#[ SEVEN HUNDRED AND EIGHTY ONE WORDS WOW ]

[fortheloveofwonderland]

What Lies in Our Anatomy | S.R | Part 2/3

Previous Part | Next Part

Summary - staying away from Spencer was a lot harder than you expected. But keeping your relationship from a team of profilers would be almost impossible.

Warnings - drinking, swearing, getting caught, fingering, handjob, bisexual Spencer, arguing, angst, cheating and affairs, brief hint that Spencer’s best friend is Riley Jenkins sister.

Word Count - 7.2k

Part Two - Losing My Religion

September - Nine Months Ago

“I feel like all we do is have sex.” You rolled onto your side, picking up a slice of pizza from the box in the middle of the bed. 

“We’re not having sex right now. Ergo, we do more than have sex.” He chuckled, taking a bite out of his own slice and not so subtly trying to pull the sheet down to expose your naked breasts. 

You held it tightly around your body, rolling your eyes at his attempt to see you naked again already. 

He was laying on his stomach with the sheet thrown off his body, your eyes grazing over his bare ass every so often while you ate. 

“We’ve spent the last seventeen hours in your apartment and at least sixteen and a half of those have been spent in this bed.” You picked at a piece of pepperoni.

“You’re complaining?” He chuckled lightly, finishing his slice and discarding the crust back in the box that laid between the two of you. 

“Not complaining.” You mused. “I just…I feel like I know nothing about you. It’s been a month of amazing sex but I’d like to get to know you.”

“You know me intimately.” He smirked at you and you freed your leg from under the sheet so you could kick him lightly in the side.

“You know what I mean.” 

He shuffled up the bed so his face was next to yours. His messy hair splayed out against the pillow and his eyes were sparkling in the dim light of the room. 

“What would you like to know?” He stroked the side of your face.

You hummed at the feeling, so content at that moment in time. 

Staying away from Doctor Spencer Reid had been the hardest thing in the world and in fact it had only lasted four weeks. 

Those four weeks were the most difficult of your life. 

Every time you laid eyes on him you wanted to jump his bones. Working with him when you weren’t sleeping with him was more difficult than it had been when you were. 

It had been just as hard on him too. 

Eventually he’d given in, called you into his office one night after everyone had gone home. 

He told you he couldn’t stop thinking about you and that he was infatuated by you. 

And you’d ended up having sex on his desk. 

For the past month you spent all your free time with Spencer in bed. You kept your personal and work life separate and never hooked up during cases. 

But once back in DC, the two of you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. And with the sexual tension diffused, you were able to focus on your work more and not get distracted by him. 

“Anything. Everything.” You tossed your pizza crust in the box. “Are you really as smart as people say you are?” 

He chewed on his bottom lip as though contemplating that for a moment.

“I have an IQ of one hundred and eighty seven.” He shrugged. 

“For real?” 

“For real.” He laughed. 

“Wow.” You suddenly felt a little inadequate. 

“Anything else you’d like to know?” He was smirking at you. 

“Why did you leave New York? There’s a lot of rumours going around.” 

“Oh yeah?” His eyebrows shot up in amusement. “Like what?”

“That you got demoted after you shot an unarmed guy.” 

His lip twitched into a smile and a soft chuckle escaped him. 

“That would get me demoted.” His eyes sparkled. “But it’s completely untrue.” 

“So why did you leave New York?”

“Fancied a change of scenery.” 

“You actively took a step down?” You raised an eyebrow at him. 

“I did.” He knew you’d have more questions so he continued. “I worked for the New York field office for almost twenty years. I worked my way to assistant director and it was…nice. But it was all paperwork and politics, I never got out in the field and I was bored. When I got the call about the job at the BAU…the timing was right. I was ready for a change. That’s all there is to it.” 

“No, there’s more to it than that.” You narrowed your eyes on him skeptically. 

“Are you profiling me?” He laughed, suddenly kicking the pizza box off the bed and rolling himself on top of you. “Because if you want to play that game you’ll lose.” 

You giggled when Spencer started attacking you with sloppy kisses all over your face and his hands began running all over your body. 

You wrapped your arms around him, keeping him close, your laughter started to subside as his hands wandered lower and you felt him growing hard again. 

And soon, all thoughts of your previous conversation were banished. 

***

November - Seven and a Half Months Ago

The car was blanketed in a tangible silence. 

You kept your eyes trained out of the window while he drove, gripping the steering wheel tightly. 

It was the first time you’d been alone since your birthday a few weeks ago, when the incident occurred. 

Neither of you had spoken about it since but now alone in the close confines of the car, it was all you could think about. 

And you knew he was thinking it too. 

Saying something might make the situation worse. But not saying anything would make it more awkward. 

You sighed and glanced across at him. His eyebrows were furrowed heavily as he watched the road in front of him. 

Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth and gripping the sides of the chair, you decided to say something. 

“You uh…you haven’t told anyone, have you?” You held your breath as you saw his grip on the wheel tighten. 

“What, that you’re sleeping with our boss? No, Y/L/N, I haven’t told anyone.” He grumbled. 

You’d never heard him like this before. Granted you didn’t know him that well but he was usually so friendly. 

It was probably inevitable that you’d get caught. You and Spencer hadn’t been careful enough. 

It was your birthday and you’d had a few drinks. And when Spencer suggested hooking up you’d known it was a bad idea. But you just couldn’t help yourself around him. 

You turned your attention back out of the window and gnawed on your bottom lip. 

“Good. Thank you.” You whispered, half hoping he wouldn’t hear you. 

“You’re both good agents. If I tell someone you could lose your jobs and the team doesn’t need that. I didn’t do it for you or Reid. I did it for the team. And I’m sure you’re smart enough to know this will only end in disaster.” 

You knew he was right. You’d known that since the first day Spencer walked onto the jet as your Unit Chief. 

But you couldn’t walk away from him. You were already in over your head. It stopped being about just sex for you. 

You hoped he felt the same. You hoped when you inevitably fell, he’d be there to catch you. 

Otherwise you were in for a hell of a fall.

***

October - Eight Months Ago (Two Weeks Prior)

You sipped your wine, leaning back against the wall as you did so, trying to act coy.

Of course you were being anything but. 

He periodically caught your eye and smiled at you softly around his scotch glass. 

You felt yourself blush each time and tried to hide it with your glass. 

The two of you were far from subtle, staring at each other across a crowded room like a couple of awkward teenagers. But if anyone noticed anything, they didn't mention it. 

“There you are!” Garcia’s voice caused you to tear your eyes away from Spencer and you hoped you weren’t still blushing as you looked at her. 

“Hi.” You squeaked, voice a slightly higher octave than usual. 

“Are you ok?” Garcia frowned a little, clearly noticing the change in your tone. 

“Yes! You just scared me.” You sipped your wine, hoping she’d buy it. 

At least she wasn’t a profiler. 

“Ok.” She clapped her hands together before gripping you by the shoulders. “It’s time to open presents!” 

You hadn’t planned on telling the team it was your birthday, but of course Garcia was privy to all the personnel files. 

They’d thrown you a surprise party at The Simmon’s house, all the kids were off with their grandparents for the night. 

There had been a lot of alcohol flowing and you and Spencer hadn’t stopped making eyes at each other all night. 

You let Garcia lead you through to the living room where the rest of the team had started to gather around a large pile of presents. 

One by one you opened them, thanking everyone for their sweet and thoughtful gifts. You’d only been on the team three months but you already felt so welcome in the family. 

The last gift Garcia handed you was a dark red gift bag tied with a matching ribbon. It had a little gift tag attached to it which simply read “your secret admirer.” 

You felt your chest tighten and you glanced up to see Spencer smiling at you. 

He was playing a dangerous game. It was as though he wanted to get caught. 

“Secret admirer?” Garcia squealed loudly, right next to your ear. 

“Uh yeah…” you swallowed, toying with the bag in your lap.

“It was left on the doorstep just before you all started to arrive.” Matt offered. 

“Is there something you aren’t telling us, Y/N?” Tara giggled. 

“Uh…” you briefly looked at Spencer before looking back at Tara. “I might be seeing someone. But it’s new and…secret.” 

For a few moments the team started speculating amongst themselves giving you a chance to look across at Spencer again. 

He was grinning from ear to ear like the Cheshire Cat. He was enjoying this too much.

“Well then, are you going to open it?” JJ cajoled you, nodding towards the bag. 

You gripped it in your hands tightly. 

“Why do I feel like I’m going to live to regret this?” You mumbled quietly under your breath as you pulled the ribbon off the top. 

You opened the bag and peered inside, seeing a neatly folded pink tissue paper parcel at the bottom of the bag. 

Cautiously you pulled it out and set it in your lap but you were already sure you knew what was inside. 

“I don’t think this is the kind of present I should open here.” You whispered to Garcia at your side.

“Oh don’t be silly!” She chirruped, clearly not sensing your discomfort. “Open it!”

“I really don’t think-“

“Come on Y/N!” Luke goaded you with his signature grin. 

“Guys, I really don’t think that it’s a good idea to-“

You were cut off by JJ reaching over you and snatching the parcel from your hands. 

Your chest tightened again and you looked between JJ and Spencer, who looked incredibly amused. 

“If you aren’t going to, I will.” JJ laughed, ripping open the pink tissue paper with ease. 

You closed your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose and you knew Spencer was loving every second of this. 

The room fell silent. You kept your eyes squeezed tightly shut and held your breath, waiting for someone, anyone to talk. 

It felt like hours. Thick, palpable hours. The silence was deafening. You thought you might be sick. 

The first person to break the silence, as usual, was Garcia. 

“Oh.” She stared at the item in JJ’s lap. “Oh well…they’re pretty aren’t they?” 

“Guys you all need to step up your games.” Tara laughed. 

“Yeah take note boys, these are extremely expensive. Y/N’s secret admirer went all out.” JJ agreed. 

“I feel like I shouldn’t have seen that.” Rossi groaned. 

You finally opened your eyes just as the older man was leaving the room, shaking his head. 

Luke and Matt looked equally as uncomfortable while the girls all fawned over the present still in JJ’s lap. 

You finally looked at what it was and felt your cheeks burn instantly. 

In JJ’s lap was a fire red lace thong and matching lacy bra. 

You looked back at Spencer who was trying to hide his laugh behind his glass. 

You wanted to strangle him. You wanted to smack the smug look right off of his face. 

“Whoever your secret admirer is did very well.” JJ handed you the lingerie set which you quickly balled up and stuffed back inside the gift bag. 

Your cheeks were probably the same colour as the garment right now. 

Thankfully it died down pretty quickly and everyone went back to enjoying the party. You kept the gift bag on you, slung over your arm in the hopes of avoiding anymore embarrassment. 

A little while later you felt your phone going off inside of your purse. 

When you opened the message, you felt your cheeks burning again and were so glad no one was near you, peering at your phone over your shoulder.

📲 Spencer Reid: put on your gift and meet me out front in ten. 

That man was going to be the death of you. 

How you’d kept your relationship a secret from a group of profilers for two months was beyond you. And tonight he’d almost blown your cover completely. 

But nonetheless, you did as he said. You were such a sucker for that man that you couldn’t deny him anything. 

You excused yourself to use the bathroom, slipped the lingerie on under your dress before trying to sneak out the house without anyone noticing.

Thankfully, everyone was already quite drunk at this point and no one spotted you as you slipped out the Simmon’s front door. 

Spencer was waiting for you at the bottom of the driveway, leaning up against the side of his old car, arms folded over his chest. 

You hurried over to him, but stopped short before you reached him. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Doctor.” You raised an eyebrow at him. 

“They’re clueless.” He unfolded his arms and reached out for you, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer. “Did you put them on?” 

“What if I didn’t?” You dared to tease him.

Spencer chuckled dryly, moving his hands up to your shoulders and brushing one strap of your dress down your shoulder. 

He moved it enough to expose the bright red strap of your new bra. 

“You’re such a good girl.” He breathed, placing a kiss of praise to your shoulder. 

“We could get caught.” You whispered but your body was already begging for him. 

“They’re all too drunk to realise we’re gone. And we won’t be long.” He whispered against your skin, reaching behind him with one hand to open his car door. 

He took your hand and pulled you with him as he sat down in the driver's seat, reclining the chair. He tugged you down into his lap and closed the door behind you. 

His lips attached to your neck and started sucking deep bruises into your flesh. You grinded down on him, feeling he was hard already. 

His hands wandered over your thighs until he gripped the hem of your dress and pulled it up your body and over your head. 

He discarded it on the passenger's seat before raking his eyes up and down your body clad in his gift. 

“Fuck, I knew that would look perfect on you.” He growled, bucking his hips up. 

“It’s fucking La Perla. This must have cost hundreds of dollars.” 

“Worth every single cent.” He ran his hands over your back and down your ass. “You look like a fucking goddess.”

He pulled you in for a kiss while his hand worked between your legs, moving the thong aside and gasping at how wet you were already. 

He ran his fingers through your folds before settling his thumb on your clit and rubbing circles on the bud. 

You moaned into his mouth and rocked back and forth in his lap. 

“Happy birthday, angel.” He spoke against your lips. 

You simply moaned in reply, grinding against his fingers. 

Knowing you probably didn’t have much time before someone would be looking for you, you started undoing his belt and pants and moving them down enough to free his erection. 

He kept rubbing your clit while you took his shaft in your hand and started stroking it. 

He bucked up against your hand, moaning softly as he picked up his speed between your legs. His free hand moved to the clasp of your bra and toyed with it for a moment. 

Just as he was about to unhook it, you were both startled out of your pleasure by a knocking on the car window. 

Pulling back from Spencer’s lips but keeping your body close to his to shield you both, you turned your heads towards the window. 

David Rossi looked the picture of unimpressed. 

His thick eyebrows were furrowed heavily and his eyes were dark with frustration. 

“I’m going home. You’re blocking me in.” His voice carried through the closer window and he nodded his head behind him to where his car was on the drive. 

You nuzzled your head into Spencer’s shoulder, trying to hide your utter mortification at the situation. 

“Two minutes.” Spencer croaked in reply. 

You heard Rossi step away and you groaned loudly against Spencer’s neck. 

“I told you we’d get caught.” You mumbled. 

Spencer didn’t speak. He simply helped you back into your dress and tucked himself away before motioning you out of the car. 

***

June - Present Day

Spencer found him waiting in his office, sitting on the couch, drumming his fingers against the leather. 

He looked up as Spencer entered the room, closing the door heavily behind him. Spencer shuffled towards his desk and sat down on the edge of it, looking his husband in the eyes. 

Ethan was not a profiler but he had one of the best poker faces Spencer had ever seen. They’d been together for years but Spencer still struggled to tell what Ethan was thinking from time to time. 

Now was no exception. 

Ethan tore his eyes away from Spencer and glanced down at the wedding ring on his finger. He’d never once taken it off, not even when Spencer left. 

Spencer looked down at his own matching band, the one he’d only worn again for a few months. It felt like a noose slowly strangling him. 

Ethan looked back at him and this time Spencer saw the sadness in his eyes. 

“You’re still sleeping with her, aren’t you?” He croaked out. 

“No.” Spencer told him honestly. “I haven’t slept with her since you came to town.” 

“Bullshit.” Ethan scoffed. “Do you think I’m an idiot?” 

“No, I don’t think you’re an idiot.” Spencer shook his head. “I think you’re a hypocrite. I think you’re an asshole. But I don’t think you’re an idiot.” 

“We got married too young.” Ethan ran his fingers over his beared jaw. 

“Probably, yes.” Spencer agreed. 

“That’s on me, I was too quick to propose. I always knew you were straight.” He shook his head sadly. 

“Oh for the love of god. I married you didn’t I? In fact I married you twice!” Spencer rolled his eyes. 

When he and Ethan had decided to get married, same sex marriage had not yet being legalised and they’d formed a civil partnership. Once it was made legal six years later, they’d gotten married all over again. 

“And,” Spencer continued. ”I’m not the only one in this relationship who has slept with a woman! Like I said, hypocrite.” Spencer scoffed. 

“You weren’t into guys before you met me. I should have known.” 

“Oh fuck you Ethan, don’t throw that in my face.” Spencer pushed himself to his feet. “If you get to be bisexual, so do I! You slept with a woman behind my back when we were still together. I slept with a woman after I left you.” 

“I thought we got past this, Spencer. You gave me another chance. You can’t keep throwing my affair back in my face.”

“Like hell I can’t!” Spencer raised his voice. 

Ethan pushed himself up from the couch and came closer to Spencer, anger spilling from his eyes. 

“I might have slept with someone else-“

“My best friend.” Spencer cut him off. “You slept with my best friend.”

“I might have slept with someone else,” Ethan repeated, clearly ignoring his husband. “But you fell in love with someone else. That’s worse, Spencer. That’s fucking worse!” 

“I wouldn’t have been in the position to fall in love with someone else if you hadn’t cheated on me! I was fucking miserable Ethan! I was hurt and I was broken and I met Y/N and she…she…”

“She what?” Ethan snarled. 

Spencer ran his fingers through his tousled curls with a heavy sigh. 

“She made me feel things I never felt for you.” He confessed. There was no point lying now. “I was a kid when we got married, I didn’t know what love was. I thought you were the love of my life, I really did. But I was just a kid. We were both just kids, Ethan. 

Our marriage wouldn’t have survived even if you hadn’t slept with Amelia. We were kids who thought we knew what we were doing but we were just playing adults.”

“So what are you saying?” Ethan folded his arms across his chest. 

“I’m saying,” Spencer sighed again, glancing at his wedding ring once more. “I choose her. I choose Y/N.” 

Ethan felt his chest constrict as he watched Spencer slide his wedding ring off his finger and hold it in his palm. 

“Spencer, don’t do this. We can work through this.” Ethan went to reach for the ring but Spencer snapped his palm closed. 

“No we can’t.” Spencer shook his head. “We tried to work through this but I can’t do it anymore. The truth is I don’t love you anymore and I haven’t for a long time.”

Ethan didn’t look surprised by his words. He was under no illusion, he’d known Spencer didn’t love him anymore, if he ever had. If truth be told he probably didn’t love Spencer the way he used to. 

But they had history. They’d been together nearly half of their lives. He wasn’t prepared to lose Spencer, not like this. 

“Don’t say that. We’ll be ok, Spencer. We’re always ok.” He grabbed Spencer by the shoulders frantically. 

“Ethan, stop.” Spencer tried to push him away. 

“I can’t lose you. Not to her.” 

“You lost me the moment you decided to sleep with Amelia.” He got free of Ethan’s hold and pushed past him towards his office door. 

He stuffed his wedding ring in his pocket as he threw the door open. 

In the bullpen his team tried and failed to pretend they hadn’t been watching the two men through the window and quickly turn their attention back to their desks. 

He noticed immediately that your desk was empty. He needed to find you. 

Ignoring the fact Ethan was hot on his heels and the concerned looks from his team, he marched across the bullpen towards the glass double doors. 

You had to be with Penelope. He had to find you. 

He shoved open the doors but before he could start down the corridor towards Penelope’s office, he stopped in his tracks when he saw the brunette stepping out of the elevators. 

“Amelia?” Spencer’s face fell the moment his eyes landed on her. “What are you doing here?” 

“Amy?” Ethan’s voice came from behind him. 

“I assumed I’d find you here.” She addressed Ethan instead of Spencer. 

Spencer didn’t hear her though. He didn’t hear anything apart from the sound of his heart beating in his ears. 

His blood froze in his veins as he honed in on what was in Amelia’s arms. 

Ethan and Amelia continued to talk but no words made it to his ears. 

All Spencer could focus on was the tiny, swaddled baby in her arms. 

***

July - Eleven Months, One Week Ago

Letting himself in his brownstone, Spencer huffed out a sigh he’d been holding in all day. 

He hung his satchel on the coat rack by the door and kicked off his shoes before running his fingers through his bird nest of hair. 

He’d gotten the call again today. It was the third time in two weeks. 

Years ago he’d put his name forward for the Unit Chief job at the Behavioural Analysis Unit at Quantico. Although he loved New York, the BAU were the best of the best. 

He’d never heard anything from it and not long after he’d been promoted to assistant director of the New York field office and forgotten all about it. 

But now the BAU Unit Chief was stepping down and they wanted him as her replacement. 

He hadn’t even mentioned it to Ethan. Ethan hated DC and would never agree to live there. He’d probably hate the idea of Spencer taking a step back down the ladder he’d worked so hard to climb too. 

Being AD was exhausting. He wanted a change of pace. But he knew his husband would never go for it, so he didn’t even bother to tell him. 

He loosened his tie and let it hang limply from his neck. He headed down the hall towards the kitchen for a much needed glass of scotch. 

As he reached the doorway, a sound coming from upstairs caught his attention. 

He frowned to himself. Ethan told him he had a gig tonight and he wouldn’t be home until late. 

He held his breath and listened closely. It was a faint, soft thudding sound followed by…was that a moan? 

He scratched the back of his neck as he padded towards the staircase. 

He quietly crept up the first two stairs, hand instinctively finding his weapon in the holster on his hip. 

He didn’t draw it just yet, only curled his fingers around the grip. He climbed a few more steps, the thudding getting louder. 

When he was just over half way up the staircase, fingers tightening around the grip of his weapon, another sound caused him to freeze in his tracks. 

“Oh fuck, Ethan!” 

Spencer’s hold on the gun loosened and his hand fell to his side. His heart started hammering against his ribcage. 

Moans, he could hear moans. Female moans. 

He suddenly bolted back into action and ran up the rest of the staircase towards his bedroom. He flung open the door and his worst fear manifested itself in front of his eyes. 

“What. The. Fuck.” His jaw fell open and his eyes widened. 

The two people in his bed stilled their movements and looked towards him in the doorway. 

Ethan was on his back on the mattress, his hair frantically sticking up at every which angle. The brunette straddling him chewed on her lip guiltily, pulling the sheet up to cover her naked body. 

“Spencer,” Amelia slid off of his husband. “Fuck.” 

Spencer looked between them and the discarded clothes littering his bedroom floor. 

He clenched his jaw so hard his teeth grinded together. His heart was furiously pounding and all he could see was red. 

“Spence…” Ethan sat up, a guilty look on his face too. 

“I’m sorry Spencer.” Amelia was still chewing her lip. 

Spencer glared at them, anger flooding every nerve in his body. 

“Sorry?” He spoke the word like it was alien to him. “You’re sorry?” 

Ethan shuffled out of the bed and grabbed his boxers which he slipped on.

“We can explain.” He held his hands up as he approached his husband. 

“You can explain?” Spencer glared at him. “Oh please do, I would love to hear an explanation for why the two of you were naked together in my bed.” 

“Spencer, I’m so sorry. It was a mistake.” Amelia reached for him from where she knelt on the bed, sheet wrapped around her body. 

He batted her away. 

“You slept with my husband.” He snarled at her. “You’re supposed to be my best friend!” 

“I’m sorry.” A few tears trailed down her cheeks and Spencer wanted to slap them off her face. 

Instead he grabbed her roughly by the arm, dragging her to her feet. 

He grabbed up her clothes in his other hand and threw her out of the bedroom, clothes flying behind. 

“Get out of my house, you bitch!” He spat at her. 

“Spencer, please let me-“ 

“Shut up.” He cut her off. “You don’t get to talk. Get out of my house you fucking homewreaker!”

Amelia was sobbing by now but it didn’t do anything to subside his anger. If anything it made the rage bubble even more. 

“We’ve known each other since we were six years old! Six fucking years old! I was there for you when Riley died, I’ve always been there for you! And this is how you repay me? Fuck you, Amelia! Get out of my house and don’t even think about coming back!” He slammed the door in her face before she could reply, too enraged to even look at her. 

He spun back around to face Ethan who still stood by the bed in his boxers. 

“I’m sorry, Spence.” He sniffed, chewing on his bottom lip. 

“Sorry you did it, or sorry you got caught?” Spencer scoffed, pushing past his husband towards the closet.

“It was a stupid mistake! A one time thing! I'm so sorry!” Ethan started to cry as Spencer threw open the closet and started rifling through it. 

“I don’t care if it was a mistake. I don’t care if it happened once or twenty times! You fucked my best friend!” Spencer yelled, tossing items of Ethan’s clothing over his shoulders.

“What are you doing?” Ethan choked on a sob.

“What do you think I’m doing? I’m kicking your ass out.” He kept pulling items off hangers and throwing them behind him. 

Soon shoes started flying towards Ethan and he narrowly avoided being hit by them. 

“Spencer, talk to me.” Ethan moved through the debris Spencer was creating towards him. 

“There’s nothing to talk about.” He turned away from the closet and pushed past Ethan on his way to the dresser. “You cheated on me. In our bed. In our HOME! There is nothing to talk about.” 

Ethan flung himself at Spencer, wrapping his arms around him from behind and sobbing.

“Please, Spencer! Please don’t throw away all our years together for a stupid mistake!” 

“Don’t touch me.” Spencer practically wrestled Ethan away from him. 

He looked at him, tears streaming down his cheeks and Spencer hated his husband at that moment. 

“Spencer…” Ethan pouted.

“I am not the one throwing our life away. You did that when you chose to sleep with my best friend. This is not on me.” He turned away again and started rifling through the drawers of the dresser and throwing Ethan’s underwear and socks over his shoulder. 

“I was lonely! You’re never here! And even when you are here physically, mentally you’re always so far away!” Ethan whined a little as he spoke. 

Spencer clenched and unclenched his fists at his side and took a few breaths before turning back to face Ethan.

“I’m never here because I have a real fucking job Ethan! Something you would know all about if you hadn't dropped out of the academy your first week! I’m never here because someone has to make money to afford this house! Someone has to make money because god forbid you ever got a real job! 

I work fucking hard, I pull long hours because how else would we afford to live? We can’t exactly live off the money from your sporadic gigs, can we? So don’t blame me for the fact you cheated. There’s no excuse. You made that decision. You did that. Not me.” He started collecting up clothes in his arms and Ethan followed him around like a lost puppy. 

“I never asked for this lifestyle, Spencer. I never even wanted to live in New York! I would have been happy in New Orleans in a…a shack if you were by my side! I didn’t need the big house or the Central Park views. You wanted that, I never asked for any of it. You work those hours to afford a lifestyle you wanted, not me.” Ethan followed him to the door which he threw open, thankfully Amelia had better sense than to stay, and headed to the stairs. 

“You wanted to join the FBI! One week into the academy and it got too tough for you. You’re telling me you’d rather be a jazz musician in New Orleans than live here, in our beautiful, expensive home?” Spencer glared at him. 

“I always wanted to do that, don’t pretend this is the first time you’re hearing it. You wanted to work for the FBI. You wanted to live in New York. And I agreed because I love you! But I have never had a say in this relationship. We’ve always done what you want to do because Spencer Reid always gets his own way. I haven’t made a single decision for myself in nearly twenty years!” Ethan was still crying but his voice was raised now. 

Spencer dropped the clothes in his arms, landing at the top of the stairs, before he suddenly advanced on Ethan. 

Ethan backed up against the wall as Spencer got closer, he was practically foaming at the mouth. 

He gripped Ethan a little roughly by the shoulders, his fingernails digging in his bare skin. 

When he spoke, the venom laced in his words scared Ethan slightly. 

“You decided to sleep with my best friend. That was a decision you made. And if I was such an overbearing and controlling husband then you should be happy to hear that I never want to see you again.” He let go of Ethan and marched back to the top of the stairs and kicked the pile of clothes. 

Spencer watched them flutter down the staircase before looking back at his husband. 

“Get out of my house.” He spat. 

“Spencer, please. We can-“

“Get out now. I will pack the rest of your shit up but you will never step foot in this house again. Get out!” Similarly to Amelia, Spencer grabbed Ethan by the arm and dragged him down the stairs. 

“Spencer!” Ethan tried to break from his hold as he was tugged towards the front door. 

Spencer ignored him, throwing up the front door with his free hand before pushing Ethan over the threshold and kicking his clothes out behind him. 

Still in just his boxers, tears streaming down his face, he looked at his husband forlornly from the front step. 

“Please, Spencer. Please don’t do this.” Ethan sobbed. 

“Go to hell.” Spencer spat. 

His final move before slamming the door in Ethan’s face was to rip his wedding ring from his finger and throw it at Ethan. 

Ethan fumbled to catch it and opened his mouth to speak but the door was suddenly crashing closed in his face. 

Only once the door was closed did Spencer let his tears overflow. 

He collapsed to the floor in front of the door and pulled his knees to his chin while he sobbed into the fabric of his pants. 

Ethan continued banging heavily on the door, screaming through the wood but Spencer neglected his pleas. 

His body trembled as he cried over the end of his relationship that had been the better part of half of his life. 

In one fleeting moment, he’d lost everything. Ethan made one stupid decision and Spencer’s whole life was turned upside down. 

He felt like his heart was splitting in two in his chest. He struggled to catch his breath between his sobs. 

As he cried into his knees with Ethan screeching through the door, Spencer made a decision. 

Tomorrow he was going to call the director of the Behavioural Analysis Unit back and accept the job at Quantico. 

***

January - Five Months Ago

“I’m not going to lie to you,” Spencer glanced over at you as you walked hand in hand through the park. “As much as I love having sex all the time, it’s really nice to be out in public with you.” 

You giggled, giving his hand a firm squeeze. 

“It’s amazing what you can discover when you leave the bedroom.” You smiled up at him as a light breeze hit your face. “Tonight has been wonderful.” 

Spencer had surprised you turning up at your apartment that night and at first you’d thought he just wanted to have sex, which you wouldn’t have been opposed to. 

But that hadn’t been his idea for a change. 

You’d been shocked when he handed you a huge bouquet of red roses and a garment bag. He’d smiled at your confusion and kissed you softly on the cheek. 

“Go put that on, we’re going out.” 

With very little protest you’d hurried to your room to inspect what was in the garment bag. 

Sheathed inside was the most gorgeous royal blue, satin dress you’d ever seen. It fit you perfectly, hugging your curves and dipping low enough to show a classy amount of cleavage. 

It stopped halfway down your thighs and felt like heaven against your skin. And there was something so sexy about wearing something he’d picked out for you. 

He took you to an extremely fancy restaurant and ordered the most expensive bottle of wine. He paid for everything despite your insistence to split the check. 

You’d told him he didn’t need to work this hard to impress you, you were already interested in him. But he informed you he enjoyed spoiling you. 

So who were you to argue? 

“The night is still young.” His eyes twinkled in the moonlight. “And my apartment is just a few blocks from here.”

“How convenient.” You smirked at him. “You might get to see the gift I got for you then.” 

He stopped in his tracks and looked down at you, eyes wide. 

“You got me a gift?” 

“Uh huh.” You laughed, snaking your arms around his neck. “It’s purple and lacy and leaves very little to the imagination.” 

“Fuck.” He hissed, pressing his body against yours so you could feel just what your words had done to him. 

He cupped your face and drew your lips to his for a kiss much too heated for the public setting. 

“Someone’s eager.” You whispered against his lips. 

“Always. You drive me wild woman.” 

You giggled again as he deepened the kiss, holding your face in his large hands. 

A soft moan left your mouth and he captured it with his own. 

You would have let him take you there and then, not caring about public indecency or anything of the sort. Spencer had that effect on you. 

As his hands started to trail down from your face, down your arms to grip your hips, a voice startled you away from one another. 

“Reid? Y/L/N?” 

You sprung apart instantly, hearts racing as you glanced in the direction of the voice. 

Alex Blake stood a little down the path, hand in hand with whom you assumed to be her husband James. 

You looked at the floor guiltily and thought it was better for Spencer to deal with this one. 

“Uh…hi Alex.” He scratched the back of his neck. “You must be James.” 

James offered him a small wave, looking a little confused as his eyes flitted between his wife and Spencer. 

“James, this is my Unit Chief Spencer Reid. And Y/N Y/L/N.” Alex let go of James’ hand and stepped a little closer to the two of you. 

“Please don’t tell anyone.” You blurted out as she came closer. 

She had a stern look on her face like a mother about to scold her children. 

“How long has this been going on?” 

“We met before we knew we’d be working together. I didn’t know she would be on my team when we met.” Spencer sighed a little. 

“We tried to end it.” You spoke up. “When we realised he was my boss. But we just kept ending up together.” 

Alex looked between the two of you a few times while you wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

At the very least, she hadn’t caught you in such a compromising position as Rossi had. That was something you supposed. 

“I’m almost impressed you managed to hide it so well. I had no idea.” She shook her head with a small smile. 

“That was kind of the idea. Hiding this from profilers hasn’t been easy.” Spencer shrugged. 

“As long as this doesn’t affect the team, I have no reason to tell them. But if it does start to affect us…” Alex trailed off. 

“We understand.” You nodded. “Thank you Alex.” 

She looked between the two of you one last time before you waved her and James goodbye. You and Spencer continued in one direction while they continued in the other. 

Once you were out of the park, Spencer threaded his fingers through yours once more and brought your hand up to his lips to kiss it. 

“So that’s two people who know.” He sighed a little. 

“Are there rules against this? I know it’s frowned upon but could we get into trouble?” You looked at him out of the corner of your eye. 

“Yes.” He sighed again. “Superiors aren’t allowed to fraternise with members of their team. The FBI is very strict on it. If we were both SSA’s it wouldn’t be a problem.” 

“Maybe we should end this before more people find out. I can’t lose my job, Spencer. And I don’t want you to either.” You chewed on your lip and once again Spencer pulled you to a stop.

His expression was very serious as he looked down at you. 

“Is that what you want? Do you want to end things?” He kept hold of your hand but it felt a little like it was shaking. 

“No, not at all. But I just think that-“

He silenced you with a kiss and like always you melted into him. 

He let go of your hand so he could wrap you in his arms while he kissed you. It wasn’t as heated as earlier, but it was certainly passionate. 

When it ended, he stroked the side of your face and looked down at you with large, slightly sad eyes. 

“I can’t lose you.” He confessed. “I’m in too deep Y/N. I know it’s dangerous and risky but to me it’s worth it. You’re worth it to me.” 

Your heart soared at his words and the way his feelings for you seemed to pour from his eyes. 

You’d never felt like this about someone before. And you were sure no one had ever felt for you the things Spencer clearly did. 

“You’re worth it to me.” You repeated his words with a smile. “You’re more than worth it, Spence.” 

His face broke out in the largest smile and he kissed you again, harder than before. 

If you got caught it would be worth it. The BAU had been your dream for so many years but now you had a new dream. 

And his name was Spencer Reid. 

Taglist

All ships & genres

@muffin-cup @andiebeaword @measure-in-pain @takeyourleap-of-faith @dirtytissuebox @smurphyse @ssa-uglywhore27 @reidselle @reidsbookclub

SR x reader

@dreatine @radtwinkie @drayshadow @rainsong01 @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @pastelbabygirl19 @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @people-whatabunchofbastards @justreadingficsdontmindme @dielgonacoffee @hotchandspencearedilfs @im-totally-not-dezi

[fixzorforever]

Wow, so this is waht messaging in tumblr is like. Weird Space in here, is this space unlimited or limited. How many charcter limits does this Ask Box Allow me to proccess with, will it halt to proccess after so many or would it not care in any of the slightest of instances of having either one character impute or over seven hundred fiftyfive thousand eighty-eight hundred four decimal five tenth. Will the reader stop reading this after having to read that rather silly number, or will they realize that there is a clue to a mysterious puzzle hidden amonst these writhing ashes, will they kick around in search of the other clues and hault and re-read this title block again and again to see the secrets they hast missed. Oh it looks like this text block expands as I continue to create more and more text lines, how enjoyful now I can create full and ensatiated paragraphs in here that lead no where and nothing about everything. Are you still reading with me OP as I write along this haunting pathway leaden with blasted mortars and shells of the previous engagers, or hast thou left moi alone in this perilessnessless journy that only I can summon, and grant myself the immunity of nonscense. As my spelling of the English (mostly) language alters making new words and true words that not even this grammar and spell checking program setup by Tumblr can tell waht I am writing. Now heres for some trivial knowledge that only a person egated with plants and thier historys can enjoy of, Sarcobatus vermiculatus is a species of shrubby flowering plants in the Family of SARCOBATACEAE, Sarcobatus is Greek naming which is to mean Fleshy Brambles, refering to its rather prominent leaves. Native to the Prairie lands right after the British Columbian Cordillera and extending down through the Dry lands of The United States of America. This plant is potentialy the sole species of a genus, as there are only two species in the Sarcobatus genus but that is in debate wether if Sarcobatus baileyi is just a varient of Sarcobatus vermiculatus, but they werent always like this. Before the year of two thousand nine they were apart of the family CHENOPODIACEAE, the Amaranth Family, and still at that point listed as the name as it currently holds but after the Angiosperm Phylogeny Group III it was re-evaluated with the DNA analysis and similar studies to prove that it was likely not of the Amaranth Family but more likely its own as it shows closeness with three other Families, and a potential Sister Taxon, Agdestis, which only holds no answers if Agdestis is actually its own thing and is commonly with uncertainty place in the SARCOBATACEAE group instead of its own. Now Sarcobatus common name is Greasewood, and a specimen was found in the Expedition of Lewis and Clark in North America. It has very tough and durable wood so it was used for Arrow Shafts and Firewood, but dont eat it as it will give you Potassium Oxalate Poisoning (Sheep are Vulnerable to this) it will give you Liver Failure. More interestingly this plant wants Salt and will only grow common in areas of alkaline and saline soils, often in or near stream beds, but its a desert plains plant so it just grows in the anceint salt rivers of the plains, so you can guarantee the area to be not good for growing other non-alkaline loving plants. Huh Wow we got this page fairly long and I still can write, but my text is now being written just above the task bar of my computer, will it go lower I cannot tell you but it does seem to be growing closer to that which lays under. So how was this story here where you learn something that you cannot use ever, fascinating that you sat there and read this entire this that would dictate that nothing of value to you would be found and yet not you still managed to read here. Oh I could simply just scroll a little and have the text continuum continue a little further away from my taskbar darn so it seems that the under siden will not be reached todays or soon. And neat fact is that you read just over 727 words, Text limit is 4096 by the way, so take that with you. Thunder

neat, dunno why you sent this to me, a fixzor blog, and paragraphs would be useful

[sentientdevices]

💔 // eleven and talia 🤔 (mycompromise)

Who doesn’t love soul-crushing angst? Send me a 💔 and I’ll generate a number, 1-75, and post a starter based on what scenario I get. | ACCEPTING VERY HARD!

@mycompromise | 45. My muse commits murder to save yours.

     Talia has been traveling with her Thief for so long, she’s not quite sure what she would do without him. WELL, if he hadn’t STOLEN her ( and her him ), she’d be DEAD now. The Time Lords would have scrapped her, disposed of her, KILLED HER. He saved her from destruction, why should she not show that same kindness? The TARDIS has never been able to ACTUALLY return the favor, of course, she’s always simply been a MACHINE. He always leaves her, in the end. She transports him and his pets to their little adventures and then just SITS there, doing whatever it is she’s programmed to do in the situations that happen in her environment. TRAPPED BY A PROGRAM, that was her, unable to truly help the Doctor when he needed it. No, that was left to his companions. He’s always come back for her, though. And she, him. LEAPING at any chance to come when he calls. The one time that she was RIPPED FROM HER SHELL when House stole her box, she’d been so ALIVE. But dying, the body she was in was not MADE for her. This one is. With this, she can do ANYTHING.

     He’s TRAPPED, she knows it, she can SENSE it. There are people that are trying to hurt him, KILL HIM, and she can’t have that. His stupid SECOND CHANCES, he always has to put his own life in danger to keep his conscience clear, to save even the most WORTHLESS of creatures. She doesn’t see the POINT to it when he knows he could die. Then again, maybe he just wants to. But this threat is TOO MUCH, she has to stop it. She has whispers of the FUTURE flowing in her mind. He’s DEAD, she can see it. DEAD FOR GOOD. No REGENERATiON, just death. She wouldn’t be able to BEAR it, not so soon after she’s finally able to TALK to him for good. SHE CAN RETURN THE FAVOR. She can SAVE HIM. Time is in FLUX, his death is only one possible future, but she can’t give the nasty thing ( time ) a CHANCE to turn on her. This ship is USELESS, time won’t miss it. The Doctor is trying to bargain with them. Talia is blinded by the future.

     She makes her way to the control room, going unnoticed by the crew of the ship ( due to the perception filter ). THE DOCTOR HAS SOME TIME, she can see that, enough time for her to START THE SELF DESTRUCT SEQUENCE and get back to him to safely steal him away. The TARDIS whizzes away at the controls. Even if someone does notice her, the extrapolator shield, which is integrated into her, will protect her. She can put them to their deaths in peace, without worry! Talia hits the final key to start the sequence and LOCK ON, maximum deadlock. Escape pods are locked down. The ship is on MAXIMUM QUARANTINE until it can cleanse the “illness” or whatnot. There is no one that can stop it. The alarms start to sound, sirens BLARE, an automated voice over the intercom system reading out “мaхιмυм qυaranтιne. ѕelғ deѕтrυcт ιn т-мιnυѕ one мιnυтe.” Good, enough time for Talia to get back to her thief. The future shifts, now the Doctor dying is because of exploding with the ship, but it’s still in flux. She can also see herself making it to him and saving him as the ship blows up around them. She makes that her number one priority as she dashes through the halls back to her Doctor, a GRIN on her face because she’s DONE IT. The favor is returned, she’s SAVED HIM! The TARDIS sprints, LEAPS, wraps her arms around him as tight as she can.

          “DOCTOR! Doctor, I DID IT! You’re SAFE!” She cries, looking up at him with such JOY on her face. No remorse. No regret. Just RELIEF. And as the ship tears to shreds around them, Talia and the Doctor dematerialize. She’s taking him to Earth, PROUD OF HERSELF for saving him. She didn’t even think, there was never any other choice, not to her. Because they would have found him again, or he wouldn’t have left, she needed something to give results quickly and EFFICIENTLY. She needed to save her Doctor, at any cost. They rematerialize on Earth, somewhere in New Zealand, and she finally lets go of him. Hair is pushed out of her face, and she looks up at him with such a glimmer in her eyes. Standing in that grass, wearing such absurd clothing, she looks up at her Doctor and smiles.

          “I returned the favor, didn’t I? I did. I saved you.”

[emsylcatac]

Compatible

Summary:

When Ladybug brings some of the old magazines she used to read as a teenager to a sleepover with Chat Noir, they end up doing an 'Adrien Agreste compatibility test', something that she has done more than once as a teenager.

There's no way her partner could beat her at it and get a higher score than her. No way.

Read it on AO3

Ladynoir identity reveal commission for @multibug​​ ♥ | Donation drive @mlbforblm​

Thank you so much again for beta-reading this, @rosekasa​ ♥

The proceeds of this commission go to Color of Change, a racial justice organisation centered on the Black Lives Matter movement!

You can learn more about MLB for BLM & the different contributors on the blog, and you can view info for commissioning me for art or fics here!

You’re of course very welcome to commission any of our talented contributors and donate if you can! Otherwise you can help us to spread the word by reblogging the different posts from the blog! Thanks for your help ♥🤜🤛

* * * * *

Ladybug looked around the room at the mess she and Chat Noir had left from the evening before. Scattered UNO cards on the table, empty glasses and half empty bottles of wine and cider, a plate with only three or four cookies left, and abandoned game controllers on ottomans in front of the small TV.

They always left a mess when they had a sleepover together; always because they went to bed way too late and were too tired to clean it all.

She loved that.

She turned her head to look at her partner half-sitting beside her on the sofa bed. The sheets were pulled up his waist, and he was wearing a dark grey t-shirt v-neck as a pajama that suited him particularly well. She herself was wearing a red with tiny black polka-dots tank top, and a pair of small black pajama shorts.

Chat Noir was smiling at whatever he was reading on his phone. Ladybug propped her head on his shoulder, but kept her gaze away from the device.

“What are you looking at?”

He kept silent a few seconds, still grinning, before answering. “I told my best friend about what my supervisor said to me yesterday. He’s telling me he’s gonna buy an electric racket for mosquitoes and slap him with it.”

Ladybug chuckled. “I like your friend.”

Chat Noir was doing an internship somewhere in the city, and while it seemed like he enjoyed it, his supervisor sounded everything but kind to him. Something Ladybug couldn’t understand, knowing how nice her partner was.

“I thought you would,” he replied, turning his phone off and putting it on the nightstand.

After defeating Hawkmoth four years ago, Ladybug and Chat Noir had both taken a break to focus on their studies. He had been somewhere abroad from what she gathered; she had studied in another city. Now they were both back in Paris and had been for a year; a new threat needing the heroes had arisen.

It had been good to see her partner and best friend again after all this time, a deliverance of sorts. Being older opened up to a lot more freedom than they had as young teenagers: they were more lenient regarding their identities, for one. Ladybug even offered more than once to reveal each other, but Chat Noir told her he was not quite ready yet. It had surprised her a lot, but if he needed time, she would let him take it.

Still, it hadn’t kept them from getting even closer than they used to be.

Ladybug wished they could be even closer. She suspected that Chat Noir probably did, too, yet neither of them pushed for it. The very comfortable friendship they had now established was both a blessing and a curse in that regard.

While it was easier for her to stay at her parent’s house for now, Chat Noir had had a new personal studio. It wasn’t big; just the kind of place you’d expect from any average student having to rent a far too expensive place for what it was, courtesy of living in Paris—but it was enough. It was great to plot against their enemy… or for sleepovers, a habit they had taken soon after he got it.

Chat Noir looked at the pile of old magazines she had brought—they were the ones she read as a teenager, the ones she gossiped about with Alya during their sleepovers. She had thought it could be fun to try that with him, even if they were definitely not up to date.

“We forgot to read those!” he exclaimed, getting up.

She watched as he closed his eyes to pick one at random, and brought it back to the bed.

“Which one did you get?”

“Let’s see… oooh, ‘Clara Rossignole is looking for a Ladybug and a Chat Noir for her next music video’”, he read aloud. “Wow. How old is that stuff?”

“Er, I think I must have been fifteen or something so… Seven years old?”

“Amazing! Exactly what I need to keep up with the latest juicy gossip!” He grinned.

Ladybug laughed and leaned on his shoulder to have a better look at the magazine. She remembered that one with this cover very well, it was the one where there was a personality test about—

“‘How compatible are you with teen model Adrien Agreste’, page 21.” Chat Noir fake-gasped. “Spiiicy! Let’s do it!”

As he opened the magazine, Ladybug hoped that it wouldn’t be too obvious to see how easy it was to find the page right away. Despite the years that had passed, the page was still bearing the marks of having been opened and opened again and stared at for far too long, more than any other.

If he noticed, Chat Noir chose not to comment.

He grabbed a four-coloured pen on his nightstand. “Wow, my Lady, that’s a lot of ink on there! We can barely see the little symbols in front of the answers.”

Well. She had had to take the test more than once to get a better score. She’d been aiming for a hundred percent compatibility, a hundred-and-one if she was lucky, or over-compatible—as she should have been back then according to herself.

Not that she would admit that to him.

“I had done it with friends. That’s why it’s so… inky.”

Chat Noir hummed, suspicious, but didn’t push further.

“And it doesn’t work with symbols, it’s a points system. So we can’t cheat,” she added.

She would know. She had tried.

He snorted. “You remember this surprisingly well, Buguinette.”

She didn’t comment on that very accurate observation. Instead, she dropped a kiss on his cheek.

“Why do you want to do that test anyway?”

“Because it’s fun! And to see if I can get a better score than you,” he said.

She scoffed. “As if you would win! I’m unbeatable at this.”

That made him snicker. “Unlike with UNO?”

She glared at him at that and pulled her head away from his shoulder. He brought her back with an arm around her, and kissed her temple apologetically.

She begrudgingly accepted the kiss. Very begrudgingly. (She couldn’t help but smile at the contact of his lips).

(She also couldn’t help but snuggle closer to him).

“So,” Chat Noir went on, “what do we have for the first question… Oooh, ‘which colour is your favourite? Green, Blue, Pink or Red?’,” he raised a brow. “That’s not a lot of choices in my opinion.”

“Blue,” Ladybug automatically answered.

Chat Noir snorted. “No, yours is pink Bugacheat, I know that well enough,” and he circled the answer in red. “However, mine is blue.”

“Maybe I changed favourite colour.”

“No, you didn’t,” he replied flatly. She pouted. “Next question. ‘What is your favourite season?’”

Ladybug pondered. She liked all seasons, after all; they each had their charm.

“Can’t we pick all of them?”

“Well, apparently you can’t because, according to this very accurate magazine, Adrien Agreste has only one favourite season.”

“Write ‘autumn’, then,” she decided.

He circled it in red for her, and circled spring in green for him.

“Okay, ‘how many times do you blink in the span of a minute? Fifteen, eighteen, twenty or twenty-two”, he frowned. “Where did they even get these information?”

“They have very good sources.”

“Sure,” he snorted. “Does Adrien Agreste himself even know the answer to that?”

“Well, of course, it’s in the magazine,” she laughed.

She knew it couldn’t really be trusted, but she liked to take these facts as straight science when she was younger.

“God, these tests are so bad,” Chat Noir shook his head. “How is that suppose to tell you if you’re compatible with him or not?”

“Hey! Don’t criticise my magazine or you’ll offend mini-me!”

“Well, Babybug, I think the questions from your magazine are dumb. And I’m answering… I don’t know... eighteen maybe?”

“Put twenty-two for me,” she said proudly.

She remembered the answer corresponding to Adrien’s to that question, but he didn’t need to know that.

They went on like that through the rest of the test, from morning routine to favourite scent—“Ew, why are one of the answers camembert?”— and gut reaction when faced with an akuma—“you would jump off of a building, Kitty”.  Ladybug tried to answer what ‘Adrien’ would do instead of herself, and Chat Noir corrected her each time—“I choose passion fruits!” - “there’s a reason you always take strawberry ice-creams, my Lady. You can’t fool me!” — until they arrived at the end of the test.

“Aaaaand I’ve got a score of…” Chat Noir paused, looking and calculating the results, “eighty-six percent! While you, on the other hand, despite trying to cheat on at least five questions—”

“Hey!”

“—have a score of… Aw, only forty-one!”

“What?!” Ladybug all but screamed.

“Ah, yes, it looks like I beat you Buguinette!” The little shit sounded so proud with himself.

“There’s no way your score is higher than mine,” she said, snatching the magazine from his hands and scrupulously recounting the points herself.

There was no way, indeed.

And yet.

Chat Noir knew how to count, alright. Ladybug was silently fuming.

No, it didn’t matter anymore whether she was compatible with her old crush or not. And yes, the magazine was probably incorrect anyway.

And sure, Adrien was twenty-two now, not fifteen, so his answers would probably not be the same anymore, but still.

She had to defend young-Marinette’s honour.

And in honour of young-Marinette’s past struggles and unconditional love, there was no way Chat Noir of all people could be more compatible with Adrien than herself.

Chat Noir’s laughters brought her out of her shocked horror.

“Aw, don’t pull that face, Bugachups, sometimes you win, sometimes you lose! Maybe you’ll beat me to the next! Say, they don’t have a compatibility test with Chat Noir by any chan—”

“You cheated.” She stated it calmly but coldly. She had to be calm about it. “You must have.”

Chat Noir guffawed. “I’m not you! Also why so upset? Afraid I ruined your chances with…” he took the magazine back from her hands to read the caption under the test’s title, “...Paris’ favourite teenage boy?” He frowned. “Hey, shouldn’t that have been me at the tim—”

“No, I’m not afraid of anything like that,” she grumbled. “It’s just that… I used to know everything there was to know about Adrien Agreste back in the day.”

He blinked. “Everything?!”

“Everything,” she repeated. “Also, I don’t need to do a Chat Noir compatibility test to know that I’d get a hundred percent at it.”

He snickered. “I sure do hope that you’d get a higher score with me than that poor forty-one percent.”

She hit him with her pillow. For making fun of her, and for not having taken the bait.

“Yes,” she insisted, “I’d have a better score and I’d get the highest, thank you very much.”

He gently pinched and squished her cheeks while nuzzling his nose against hers teasingly. “Aaaww, of course we would be the most compatible Buguichou, we’re made for each other!”

Better.

Still, they had become so comfortable with each other now that it could mean everything and nothing.

“Chat Noooiiiiir,” she whined in lieu of pushing further, “stop annoying me!”

He released her and laughed. “You love it when I annoy you!”

Yes.

“No.”

He snorted and shook his head. “Anyway.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “What was it about you knowing everything there was to know about teen model, Paris' darling extraordinaire Adrien Agreste?”

She groaned. “Please can we not?”

“No. I want to know more about the boy I’m eighty-six percent compatible with, Bugaboo! And who better to teach me all I need to know other than the finest expert you aaaaar—”

She snatched the magazine back from his hands and swatted him with it.

“You’re” —swat— “not” —swat— “more compatible than me” —hit— “with Adrien” she had him pinned on the bed and he was giggling, trying and failing to push her away, “because I had the biggest crush” —swat— “on him and I was” —swat— “in love with him, do you understand?”

She stopped hitting him to throw him her deadliest look.

“Wait, what?” he said, still grinning from the fight. “You were in love with him like… in love love?”

She crossed her arms. “Yes, I was in love love with him.”

He snorted. And then, slowly, his body shook more and more, the laughters coming from him getting louder and louder.

“You—,” he choked, raising a finger in her direction, “you were in love with Adrien Agreste when we were fifteen.”

She sighed. “Yes, I was in love with Adrien Agreste. Go on, laugh all you want, ‘ha-ha-ha, Ladybug was in love with Hawkmoth’s son, ha-ha,’ so funny.”

“Oh my god, yes, Ladybug in love with our enemy’s son,” he kept laughing. “Waaait, wait wait, hold on, that’s excellent but… when you told me you were in love with someone else, back then…”

Her stomach fluttered at the memory that yes, Chat Noir used to be in love with her.

“...Does that mean that he was the boy you were referring to?” he looked at her expectantly.

She didn’t reply.

“He was?!" he exclaimed. “Ladybug, that’s… that’s… that’s hilarious!” and he was back laughing, even louder than before.

She glared at him, before grabbing her pillow once again and hitting him with it.

“No, no—I’ll stop, I’ll stop! But you don’t understand, this is so funny!”

“I really don’t see why.” And with that she lay down on the bed and turned around, her back to him. “Adrien is a very sweet person, I had great taste.”

Today, however, by loving Chat Noir? Maybe not so much, she decided.

A warm hand settled on her arm.

(She still had great tastes).

“Say, my Lady… if you were to meet that Adrien boy today and he were to ask you on a date… would you say yes?” She could still hear the remainder of his amusement in his voice, but he seemed to have calmed down, now.

She turned around to face him. He was lying on the side, propped on one elbow with his head resting on his hand. She pondered his question a few seconds. She hadn’t seen Adrien in a while, after all.

And… there was someone else now. She wasn’t fifteen anymore.

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

He was rubbing small circles on her arm.

“Oh?” he said with a hint of amusement in his voice. “What would fifteen-year-old-Bugbooboo think about that?”

She snorted. “She wouldn’t believe I’d ever say that. She’d think I lost my mind.”

He chuckled with her.

She frowned. “But… well, we all change when we grow up and… Adrien is probably still a great person. And I mean, with what he had to go through, I admire him a lot. But also, there’s some—… there’s…  there’s...”

“There’s what?”

You.

“Chat Nooiiir,” she tugged at the kwagatama around his neck instead, and raised her eyes to his. She bit her lip. “You know.”

She couldn’t get the words out of her mouth. Even after all these years, confessing was still something she found herself struggling with. But she kept his gaze as he silently searched hers; she wouldn’t back away or hide from it.

She kept it as he slowly took the hand that was fiddling with his necklace and lifted it to his lips. Kept it as he gently kissed the tips of her fingers. As she felt a shiver and the heat rising to her cheeks and was sure he could see it, too.

And she still kept his gaze as he lowered their hands on the mattress, and caressed hers with his thumb.

He knew.

And he reciprocated. She put a hand on his cheek, and slowly brought her face closer to his. She was about to close her eyes and the gap between them when a finger on her lips interrupted her.

Chat Noir closed his eyes, letting a small smile tug at his lips. Took a deep breath. Exhaled.

Opened his eyes again and looked right into hers.

“What if…” he said nervously, almost as a murmur, a deep contrast to his amusement from earlier. “What if I told you that… that you could have both? In one person.”

Her eyes widened. She sat up suddenly and grabbed his face. Did he mean that—

“Chaton?!” she said surprised —questioning. Her eyes frantically searched his.

He took one of her hands and brought it to his mask. And slowly nodded.

Carefully, shaking, she removed the home-sewed mask from his face.

His eyes were closed, but it was the unmistakable face of Adrien that met her. And older Adrien, an Adrien who was still the same but also so different.

An Adrien who was Chat Noir, and had always been—an Adrien that she knew more than she could have possibly thought.

As he opened his eyes to look at her, she took both his hands and kissed them. She noticed that she was crying when she saw tears dropping on his ring. She didn’t care.

It suddenly hit her that this boy had had to fight against his own father—and that it was certainly why he hadn’t been ready to show himself before. What he just did now, finally revealing himself to her—this was huge.

But looking at his gaze, soft from her actions, and feeling his hand wiping her tears away, she decided that it was probably not something he wanted to discuss now. And she didn’t want to ruin their moment, their reveal, with pity and talks about his father: the very thing he had probably tried to avoid when he was still insecure about who he was under the mask.

She giggled through her tears. “You’re beautiful,” is what first made its way out of her mouth.

That made him laugh and oh god, she was making him cry too now.

“Take off my mask. Please,” she whispered, kissing his fingers once more.

He sat up next to her, are gently put a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Then, he did as she told—and gasped.

“You—you’re Marinette!”

She giggled again. “And you’re Adrien!”

“I was thinking about you the other day. I was wondering how you were doing and…” he trailed off.

“And now you know!”

“And now I know!” he grinned. “You’re wonderful… I missed you so much but… it also sounds weird to say that now, doesn’t it?”

“Well… we could still catch up, around a coffee and uh… is this date with both Chat Noir and Adrien still on the table?” she asked.

Was she being a bit too straight forward? Probably. But she had troubles to control her mouth right now.

“When will it not?” he breathed.

She squealed and wiggled on her spot, grabbing his face. But before she could come closer to him, she faltered and stopped, remembering his finger on her lips a few minutes before.

“Uh, can I kiss you this time?”

He chuckled, a soft blush gracing his cheeks—and kissed her in answer.

She immediately closed her eyes at the contact of his lips and kissed him back—slowly, deeply, tasting him as much as she could. He tilted his head to give her a better access, and she climbed on his laps to be more comfortable—and closer to him.

Marinette lost count of how many times they came back for each other, of how many times their lips met, or their tongues. She felt so happy and so good—so in love.

When they separated and looked at each other, shy and giddy smiles on their faces, she couldn’t help but drop another tender kiss on his cheek, and caressed it afterwards.

“Now I know what you found so funny earlier,” she told him.

“It’s hilarious, right? We were so dumb!”

“We still are,” she added.

“We definitely still are. I can’t believe I didn’t know that Marinette was in love with me in collège, wow.”

“Is in love with you,” she corrected, still caressing his cheeks. “Present tense.”

She would always remember the look on his face when she said it. He was in love with her too, there was no doubt about it.

Suddenly, she was hit with a realisation and looked at him in horror. “Wait a minute. That means… That I have only forty-one percent compatibility with Chat Noir?!”

Adrien burst out laughing. “My Laaaady, you can’t seriously believe these tests, right?”

“Well, no, but we still should have way more compatibility than forty-one percent. Who even has that with their super-hero partner?”

“Marinette,” he said, amused, “my Bugabisous…I don’t even have a hundred percent with myself. It would be hard to live in my own head.”

She blinked. “You’re right. That test is dumb. But how do we know if we’re the most compatible then?”

Adrien chuckled, and put his hands around her waist, bringing her closer to him. “Well, you’re the Guardian, I think you can make up the rules for that.”

She put her arms around his neck. “That’s true. Then I decide that we’re a hundred percent compatible.”

“A hundred percent, uh?”

Their foreheads were touching now.

“A hundred-and-one,” she whispered against his lips, and she kissed him.

[doctenwho]

Ten’s Proposal

Sure can do! I’m not the best at romantic stuff (I’m attempting to learn, and getting better I think), but hopefully it’s what you were looking for! Thanks for the request, and I’m glad you like the content!

Get ready for some Ten being a giant romantic and a bit of a nervous wreck! 

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3,557

Summary: Read the prompt above!

(Gif doesn’t belong to me, credit to creator!)

“Right then!”  

Your body jerked roughly as the TARDIS landed, feet slipping a bit as your hand shot out to grab one of the rails behind you to ground yourself. Not only had you not been expecting to land right then (the Doctor had given no warning), but you’d also been a bit lost in your own head.  

“We’re here,” the Doctor continued on with a grin, pushing a few buttons and pulling a lever on the TARDIS’s control panel, “c’mon then, a whole new planet for us to explore!”

You righted your footing, pulling yourself upright in order to glare at the Doctor halfheartedly. He turned towards you with an excited grin, but blinked when he caught sight of your glare.  

“Whot?” His eyebrow rose in confusion and his eyes tracked your movements of steadying yourself.

“A bit of a warning would’ve been nice,” you huffed as you moved to join the Doctor at the console, he gave you an apologetic smile before averting his attention back down to the screen on the TARDIS’s console. “Where are we exactly?”

“A small planet just beyond the milky-way. We’re about thirty-four thousand light-years, give or take, away from your earth.” The Doctor explained, turning the screen he’d been studying towards you so you could get an image of what he was talking about. A lot of what was written on the screen you didn’t understand, number higher than you could count and planets listed that you’d never even dreamed could exist.

“Thirty-four thousand light-years away from earth?” You gaped, trying to make sense of what was being shown, “how far is that?”

“Hn,” the Doctor paused, taking a second to do some quick mental math, “a light-year is nearly six trillion miles, and the milky way is roughly twenty-seven thousand light-years away from your earth, so, this planet would be... eh one point nine million nine hundred eighty-seven thousand three hundred twenty-six multiplied by ten to the power of seventeen miles? Give or take, once more.”

You watched as the Doctor ran a hand through his hair, almost as if he were trying to clear away the numbers from his brain, then grinned at you.  

“...what?” you couldn’t help but ask. Everything he’d just said had really gone in one ear and out the other. It was like he’d just started speaking Gallifreyan to you, when you knew he was still speaking English, just... really, really smart English.

“Alot,” he simplified for you with a fond smile, “a very, very large amount of earth miles.”

“We’re very far away,” you mumbled, eyes still locked on the screen, trying (and failing) to make sense of the large line of numbers.

“Incredibly far away,” the Doctor agreed with a laugh. “Now, we’re not here to talk maths, we’re here to have a look around, right?”  

You didn’t really say anything else as you watched the man stride towards the TARDIS doors and throw them open, he turned back to grin at you, then gestured you over before stepping out of the TARDIS, “it’s just as beautiful as I remember,” the Doctor sighed happily, before glancing back at you and holding a hand out as an invitation, “well, c’mon, (Y/N).”  

You barely even hesitated before moving to follow him out, peeking out the doorway before gaping at the scene before you and taking the Doctor’s proffered hand.  

He pulled you out, into his side so he could throw an arm over your shoulder, “welcome to Noelani, (Y/N).”

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, stunned.

It was an ocean, a sandy beach, with a beautiful ocean.  

But it wasn’t anything like you’d ever seen before. The water was a rich purple, and the sand a stunning white that could put the Bahamas or Hawaii back on earth to shame. The sky was clouded, but two bright orange suns could be seen shining high above the waves.  

“It’s... it’s beautiful,” you stammered, because it truly was. It was like an edited photo from one of the beaches on your planet. Familiar, but completely out of your world too.

“Indeed,” the Doctor nodded, stepping down and dragging you along with him. “I’ve always loved coming here. It’s one of my favorite places in this universe, since no matter when I come the suns are always shining.”

The man paused, thoughtful before he added a slow, “I haven’t come around for a while, but it’s still exactly like I remember.”

“You stopped coming?” You asked as you fell into step with him, barely able to draw your eyes from the world around you. It didn’t look real, but then again, when did anything the Doctor showed you look real?

You couldn’t imagine knowing a place like this and not coming back—as of now, you’d surely want the Doctor to bring you back and you hadn’t even left yet.

“It’s been... fifty-seven years? Fifty-eight?”

“Wow,” you turned to look at the Doctor. The two of you were down by the water now, close enough to touch if you wanted, but you stayed back with the Doctor. He wasn’t looking at you, just staring out to sea thoughtfully.  

You stood beside him for a moment, letting him think, or whatever it was he was doing, before you cleared your throat, drawing in his eyes, “is it... okay to touch?”

The Doctor’s eyes followed your gesture downwards towards the water that was slowly climbing towards your shoes. If the water did prove to be safe, you’d probably take your shoes off and walk along the sand—or maybe in the water if it was warm enough to do so.

“Oh,” he looked from the water back to you, “oh, of course! It’s perfectly safe,” then, the Doctor was crouching down and dunking his hand into the water, whether to prove its safety to you, or to test it before you could in case he was wrong, you couldn't tell, “yes, it’s perfectly alright. No different from the ocean on earth.”

“Really?” you asked seriously, leaning forwards to dip your fingers into the purple water. It was perfectly warm—cool enough to be refreshing, but heated enough from the suns that you could jump right in like a regular swimming pool on earth.

“Of course,” the Doctor nodded, standing to his full height and wiping the wetness on his hand off onto his trousers, “well, a bit different.”

“Because it’s purple?”

“No-- well, yes,” the Doctor laughed lightly, “it is purple, but that wasn’t what I was going to say. This planet is really like nothing else in the galaxy.”

“What does that mean?” you asked curiously as you took your hand from the water and shook off the drops clinging to your fingers. The water came off just like regular water would, you’d kinda expected the rich purple colour to stain your hands.

“Everything is clean,” the Doctor explains, “it’s untouched by anything, clean of humans and creatures, and even Gallifreyians. There’re no lifeforms of any sort. No aquatic animals, no fish, or trees, no underwater plant life. It’s created its own ecosystem without really having the necessary components to create one. Technically speaking, nothing that breaths oxygen should be able to survive here.”

“How can it be untouched if we’re here?” you ask before jumping onto the next, more important question, “wait, how are we breathing?!”

“That,” the Doctor turns to you with a grin, “is the fun bit. It cleans its self. Algae unlike any other, on any other planet I’ve seen. It cleans and filters the water and air, turns any carbon dioxide that happens to be here back into oxygen like any other photosynthesizing plant. Even the sand gets cleaned, which I’m still not sure how that happens when this planet is inhabited.”  

The Doctor blinked in mild confusion before continuing on, “in two weeks, it’ll be like we never even stepped foot on this planet. It always reverts back to its pristine initial state.”

“That’s amazing,” you grinned, “it’s so beautiful here, why do more people not know it exists?”

“It’s hidden a bit,” the Doctor grinned in return, “a gem hidden behind the universe’s tourist attraction, like the milky way. I only found it because I was looking for it- well, I was looking for nothing, seeing where the TARDIS took me, but found it anyways.”

“The TARDIS made a good find then,” you gave the man a smile, taking his hand again after wiping any of the water that had still clung to you had even after the shake onto your shirt.

“She did,” the man laughed, “as far as I know, no one else knows of this planet, but that’s just going off of that I’ve never seen anyone else here before.”

“More ocean planet for us then,” you laughed as the Doctor started walking, pulling you along carefully.

“Yes,” the man smiled adoringly, “but we can’t stay here too long. We’ll run out of oxygen, since there’s only the algae here to filter the carbon dioxide back into oxygen. That process is a bit slower than us breathing though. We have... I’d say three days between the two of us of fresh air, before we’ll need to head off and let it revert back once more.”

“Three days seems like a good vacation,” you joked. The Doctor laughed, dragging his thumb along your knuckles where he was still holding your hand before he interlaced your fingers together.

“Shall we walk along the shore?” the Doctor offered softly, looking down at you fondly. He had a soft smile on his lips, and his eyes kept scanning your face, “there’s a peninsula a bit away but it has a beautiful view.”

“Sounds good to me,” you gave a supportive one shoulder shrug before smiling at him, “I’m going to take my shoes off though. I’d rather not have my shoes filled with sand.”

The Doctor nodded, releasing your hand so you could kick off your shoes and gather them up so they didn’t get lost or forgotten on this planet.  

“I’ll carry them,” the Doctor volunteered, taking them from your hands and holding them by their collars in one hand. He slipped his other hand back into yours, grinning at you before leading you along down the shore.  

You’d never seen anything as beautiful as this planet. Not on earth, not on any other planet the Doctor had taken you to in the years you’d known him. It was unique, and lovely and it made you feel special that the Doctor would bring you here. He’d spoken highly of the place since he’d brought you here, and it made your heart stutter in your chest that he thought you were worthy enough to show it to you.

The Doctor looked lost in thought as he led you along. Occasionally he’d glance in your direction, almost as if he were checking to make sure you were still with him, even though he was holding your hand. When you’d catch him staring at you, you’d raise an eyebrow in question, but he’d just smile widely and turn away without a word.  

The two of you walked for a while, but you couldn’t complain. The sand was soft and almost fluffy under your feet. It wasn’t as rocky and granulated as it was on earth, but fine and almost like a dense grainy dust. And even with the two suns shining down on you, you weren’t hot or sweating after all the walking.  

You were walking closer to the ocean, and every few minutes the water would crawl up and brush against your toes and the sides of your feet, but it was really nice. The Doctor was on your other side, staying on the dry sand since he hadn’t taken his shoes off.  

It wasn’t long until the peninsula came into view, just as the Doctor had described it. The purple water crashed softly against the sand; waves small but visible. You hurried your pace, dragging the Doctor behind you this time. You wanted to stand in the middle of the sand and see nothing but water in front of you and to your sides.  

You really wished you had a camera of some sort because it really was breathtaking. You knew people on earth who would’ve killed to see something like this. And you really weren’t sure anyone would really believe you if you told them.

“Do you like it?” the Doctor asked by your side when the two of you stopped moving. You turned your attention from the waves, looking towards him and nodding with a wide smile.  

“I really do,” you told him.

“Good,” the Doctor smiled, almost like he was pleased with himself. The two of you just stood for a moment, looking out at the sea.  

“You know,” the Doctor spoke, “there is a reason I brought you here...”

“Oh?” you looked back over at the Doctor. He’d set your shoes on the ground beside him, and his hand that wasn’t holding your hand was tucked in his suit jacket pocket. “And what would that reason be?”  

“There was something I wanted to ask you, I’m just not sure how to do so. I feel like it differentiates between planets, and I... well, I don’t want to do it wrong.” The Doctor turned towards you, tilting his head as he let your hand go. Before you could frown at him doing so, you were distracted by him stuffing the hand you’d just been holding in his remaining pocket.  

It looked like he was looking for something. Searching through his pockets—it wasn’t unusual for him to lose something in his bigger on the inside pockets.

“You can ask me anything,” you promised, watching the man closely.  

“I know,” the Doctor paused in his searching through his pockets to grin at you, “now, uh, as you know I’ve had a few companions through my life who choose to stay with me and travel through space and time. And as much as I love having companions with me, keeping me company, I’ve learned not to... get attached to humans. For obvious regenerating Time-Lord reasons.”

You weren’t really sure where this was going.  

“But I, well, the thing is, I’ve gotten a bit attached to you. Well, more than a bit attached. You’ve been with me for, well, for years now. You’ve been a constant in my life for so long now. I... well, I can’t really imagine my life without you. There have been very few people that... that I love, and you’re one of them.”

You didn’t say anything, letting the man sort through whatever he was trying to do. You were sure anything you said would’ve distracted him. So it was best to just let him do whatever he needed to do before you replied, or touched him or anything along those lines.

The Doctor looked down for a moment before looking back up at you. He pulled one of his hands from his pocket and took your hand into his once more, holding it tight and secure, but soft as well.

“You make me happy, and you’re always by my side, and, well, the TARDIS loves you too. You’re... well, you’re just perfect. You’re perfect and I’ve not thought about you as just my companion for quite some time now. I... I love you; I love you differently than I love my past companions.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, squeezing his hand softly.

“I know,” the man gave you a goofy grin, “I’ve known that all along, but you never knew I loved you in return. I have for... for a long time now.”

It made you smile that the man was saying he loved you. You’d told him you loved him when the two of you first started kind of dating—which was after about a year and a half earth time of space travelling together.  

The Doctor would never call it dating, but that’s what it was, whether he liked it or not. Maybe it was more courting to him, but whatever it was, it was as close to human dating as you could get. And you loved every minute of it.  

He’d never once muttered the words back to you though, not even the times you were sure he was going to say it back, or when he looked like he was biting his tongue to keep from repeating them back to you. He’d always had a sort of reluctance to saying anything overly fond-- like I love you, which you could understand. He’d probably said it too loved ones he lost along the way.  

You knew he loved you—but it was something else to actually hear him say it.  

“I should probably get on with it,” the Doctor mumbled. You eyed the Doctor hesitantly, curious but a little afraid of what could be coming next all the same.

He shook his head, as he cleared his throat, “it’s been a very long time since I’ve even thought about asking anyone this but,” the man suddenly dropped down onto one knee, managing to keep his hold on your hand, pull his second hand which had been tucked in his pocket the whole time out, and all without tumbling down, “(Y/N), my brilliantly amazing human companion, will you possibly do me the honors of marrying me?”

And it was then that your brain short circuited.  

In his hands was a ring. Small, but perfect. It had tiny little gems that you couldn’t really make out with the suns light casting through them and making them sparkle beautifully. The band was gold, but you were almost certain it wasn’t earth gold.

He’d just asked... he wanted to marry you. In that moment you didn’t know how to speak—how to express your enthusiastic agreeance to the proposal. You weren’t even sure you could form words beyond the unintelligible slur of letters falling from your mouth.

Marriage. The Doctor wanted to marry you.  

“I’m sorry if this was wrong for human ideations,” the Doctor mumbled, forcing you to blink yourself out of your excited daze, “I’ve only ever seen one romantic film from your earth, and I really tried to mimic it with the romantic setting and the ring and the monologue but if-”

“Yes.”

The Doctor froze, fingers tightening around yours for a split second before they relaxed. “Yes?” he repeated like he’d heard you wrong. He looked ready for rejection, even if you’d literally already said yes. He was still on one knee, staring up at you.

“Yes!” You gave a sharp, excited nod, which was followed by an almost frantic laugh. You reached your hand up to cover over your mouth, as if you could stop the unvoluntary sounds you were making, “yes. Yes, I’ll marry you, Doctor!”

It took less than a second for the Doctor to be up, pushing up into your space and grinning widely in excitement.  

“That was a yes!” The Doctor beamed, eyes lighting up in sheer excitement as he bounced on the balls of his feet where he was stood beside you, “you said yes! Oh, (Y/N), my love, you said yes!”

The Doctor slipped the ring he’d held out to you onto your engagement finger (on the wrong hand, but you’d fix it later), then he was cupping your cheeks and pulling you into a kiss you couldn’t be happier to accept.  

He pulled back in the same excitement he’d pulled you in with, eyes wide and adorning, and smile as bright as you’d ever seen it. You were sure your smile matched his almost identically. “You said yes,” he repeated, like he almost couldn’t believe it.

“I said yes,” you laughed, eyes watering as you looked up at the Doctor. His eyes were a bit wet too, but he looked more concerned over your damp eyes than his own.  

“You’re crying,” he whispered, cradling your jaw in his hands and swiping his thumbs under your eye lids to wipe away the tears.

“So are you,” you giggled, lightly slapping your hands on either of his cheeks so you could dry his tears as he’d done to you. “Happy tears,” you added as an explanation for the both of you.  

“Incredibly happy tears,” the Doctor gave a light laugh, “you’ve made me so incredibly happy, my love.”

“We’re getting married,” you dreamily whispered in reply. You still couldn’t believe it. You’d never really though the Doctor ever would’ve wanted something like this. Like marriage. And to a human no less.

“You’ll be my wife,” the Doctor agreed, eyes fondly settling on your face, “my beautiful wife.”

The Doctor pulled you into a hug, and you happily returned it, pressing the side of your face against his chest. He held you tightly, settling his cheek atop of you head, but you could almost feel him smiling above you. His hearts were sped up, excited and happy, and it made your whole being light up with warmth.

“I really do love you,” he whispered lovingly above you, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the top of your head, “I’m so happy you said yes.”

“I love you too,” you reminded for the second time, grinning into the fabric of his suit jacket. “I always have, and I always will.”

<><><><>

Hope you enjoyed Ten’s overly excessive saying of the word ‘well’ while he’s nervous! As always, let me know if it wasn’t what you were looking for! I do hope I did the proposal justice, but I just don’t know with romance.

Oh, and Noelani means heavenly mist in Hawaiian as far as I know (from Google) and I thought it was an adorable name for the ocean planet. Now, as always, thanks for reading and new promps always appreciated!

[nambamjun]

Two Sides of the Same Medallion {KYC}

Pairing: Kang Yuchan x Reader (Female)

Genres: Greek and Roman Mythology, first meeting, strangers to friends, two witty and stubborn individuals arguing over a literal tree stump.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: This is for an ACEWRITERS event that I am absolutely thrilled to be a part of, Greco Roman Writes! Please feel free to visit the page if you have the time and check out all of the other lovely writers we have in the group along with their brilliant works! As always, comments are loved and welcomed, especially since I took one or two creative liberties with this one. I hope you enjoy ~<3

Nike is the Greek god(dess) of victory, and Victoria is the Roman goddess of the same calling. Of course they don't share the same universe... or do they? What if on a soft spring night the two would meet? Oh this is shaping up to be very interesting indeed...

There was really nothing to do. She had already run around the width of the largest island in Italy seven times. Every one of the laps felt the same, the proceeding taking just as much time as the one before it, and by the time she stopped she was only marginally out of breath, much to her great displeasure. The previous night she had counted once again how many times she could deadlift a six foot long tree trunk before growing bored (two hundred eighty three), as well as the number of pull ups she could perform from a sturdy branch before the same mental unrest met her (one hundred ninety seven). She really didn't feel like counting them again, even if it was to beat her own score.

So, no. There was, quite literally, nothing to do. This upset her very quickly. She hated having nothing to do. It got to the extent where she would almost rather there were fifteen tasks on her metaphorical plate than none, the overcrowding was almost easier to deal with than the silence. Sighing, she figured she would do what she almost always ended up doing - going to the wooded cliffs only a few miles away at the tip of Brindisi, sit against a tree, and look out over the Ionian Sea. The sun was set to rise in only few hours anyways and she never really did tire of the vibrant oranges, reds, and pinks dancing in the water's reflection.

She took her time getting there. She didn't exactly drag her feet but she didn't sprint as she normally would have. Might as well kill some time and take in the scenery. I haven't done that in a while. Ultimately she was glad she did. The spring's second bloom was in full swing and although the sun wasn't out to open up the flowering tree's petals their sweet fragrance still melded with the crisp night time air. Approaching the vista, she sensed that something was slightly off and her footsteps slowed to a halt next to a particularly large shrub. She peered around cautiously until her eyes landed on a form, seemingly human, leaning against the tree she has always claimed as her own resting place.

This alone made her eyes narrow, softly muttering, "that's my spot..."

Taking a deep breath she briskly walked on, making her way towards the offender and not even bothering to be subtle. They didn't look her way, not even when she stopped only a foot away from him. How rude. She could feel herself getting more and more petty by the second as she cocked her hip and let her arms cross loosely over her middle. She cleared her throat. No reaction. What the... oh come on... She lightly coughed. "Hello?"

The poor figure jumped and looked around frantically before meeting her eyes. "Oh my gods-" he gasped, exasperated, "-you scared me nearly half to death! You should know better than to sneak up on people like that!"

The prickle of annoyance lifted her shoulders. "Well excuse me for barging in on someone I've never met before who's sitting in my usual spot!"

"Hey this is my first time here! How was I supposed to know this is your spot?" He gestured dramatically to the ground around him.

"What should I put a sign there or something? Just nail one to the tree? Ah yes I can see it now, 'may no man, woman, or beast rest here; save for Victoria the great.' I could see that going over quite well," she huffed, the very essence of sarcasm dripping from her words as her eyes rolled once again. They settled on his face. He was actually quite attractive, now that she got a good look at him.

"So... your name is Victoria then...?" Just when I was about to let you off the hook, huh?

She sharply refocused her eyes onto his. "How do you know that?"

"You just said it...?"

"I most certainly did not!"

"Oh wow sure you caught me going off your nametag."

"Nametag??" She looked incredulously on her person for only a second before glaring at him. He didn't even have to open his mouth for her to know what he was thinking. His eyes lazily looked at her with a blank expression that said it all. Seriously? You fell for that? Sighing with a shake of her head she resigned herself to plopping down and leaning against a neighboring tree. Despite how much she wanted that spot it wasn't worth the effort, his wit was annoyingly just as sharp as hers. "Well, you know my name." He stared at her with... some other sort of expression, one she couldn't quite read. Curiosity? Recognition? It felt familiar somehow. Not just the look, something else that was so tiny she would barely even try to put her finger on it. "Yours is...?" She trailed off again.

He diverted his gaze for one or two seconds. "Yuchan."

"Yuchan?" He hummed in affirmation. She nodded her head, "good name, I like it. Took you a second to answer though, is that your birth name or one you go by?" His eyebrows rose highly.

She quickly realized the gravity of what she had asked. "Sorry if that-"

"It's just-"

They both looked at each other waiting to speak.

"You can-"

"You go-"

Small smiles crept over their faces and laughter threatened to take them both over. She reached her hand out towards him so as to say go ahead.

After a moment, "It's my own name, and it's okay that you asked."

A light and comfortable silence enveloped them. Names are a personal thing. She didn't want to outright ask but she did have a small twinge of curiosity that he picked up on by her contemplative expression. "Before I was born... people thought I was going to be a girl, so they named me Nike. It could probably have been seen as a guy's name, sure, but I never really liked it, so..." he turned his face forward to look out over the waters.

Curling her legs to her chest and loosely draping her arms around them, she slowly nodded her head again before resting her chin on her knees. "I respect that." Out of her peripherals she saw him slightly look over to her for only a second before refocusing on the view. She did the same.

Neither of them talked for quite a while. Crickets sung an aria that mixed with distantly faint rolling of water on rock, and every so often a rustle from the leaves of the trees around them dancing in the gentle breeze. It was so calm that for a few precious moments she forgot who she was, her responsibilities, and the challenges of being more than mortal. It was just her, the beautiful world, and her friend a few feet away. Friend... could she call him that? Might as well.

Unbeknownst to her, he was having almost the exact same thoughts. Or at least type of thoughts. He was glad he found this place, and even her, really. Home had been getting too much for him, his superiors only giving him more and more work to do, expecting him to be perfect all the time and be completely and unconditionally devoted to his work. There was only so much success he could give to others, though, before he would drain himself completely. That was something they didn't seem to understand. So, he stormed out, and somehow found his way to that spot. Wherever this spot even is, anyways.

This turned out to calm him down much more than he thought it would, and despite bolting from everything to be alone, the company was nice.

Meanwhile, the fact that her spot had been taken over for the night was completely out of the mind of the girl in question. She slowly allowed herself to be lulled into sleep, leaning more heavily against the tree and her fingers relaxing their grip on each other from around her legs. As unconsciousness settled around her like a heavy blanket he stole a quick glance at her relaxed figure. The corners of his lips turned upward and his eyes softened before looking back away. Exhaling softly, he knew he should get back, but he decided to stay for just a little longer. Just until the sun starts to peak over the horizon. Then I'll go.

But not yet, for now, he would stay there, in that spot, and with that girl.

A new friend.

----------

[[ Quick lil end note, no matter who you are, where you come from, or how you identify - you are valid, and you are loved. <3 ]]

[yellowocaballero]

Bonus story that I regret already

A friend requested a HLVRAI/Freeman’s Mind/HL crossover. Specifically, them getting drinks, in a pub. 

I really hate to spill that I’ve seen all of HLVRAI and Freeman’s Mind, but I figure the cat’s out of the bag. It’s three pages. It’s crack. There will be no continuation. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but tw for ableist language, suggested animal abuse, and suggested slavery. So...that’s how you know Freeman Freeman’s Mind shows up. 

God, does anybody remember FM? Am I the only person who remembers FM? Am I having a stroke? Imagine if Freeman’s Mind came out in 2020. There’d be call-out posts. 

Enjoy...I think? Rest under the cut. 

********************************************

“When you think about it, dog breeding just doesn’t make any sense.”

Thank god. Gordon exhaled in relief. The guy sitting across from him in the dim, crowded pub had finally moved on from his extensive...very extensive...opinions on the IRS. Gordon had desperately tried redirecting the conversation to something more normal, like theoretical physics, or his opinion on multi-dimensional crossovers, but instead the guy just seemed very desperate that everybody know that taxation was theft.

“Right!” Gordon said enthusiastically, just trying to get word in edgewise. He knew he liked to talk, but this guy was ridiculous. “Pugs can’t give birth by themselves. It’s inhumane.”

“Oh, forget about that shit.” The guy waved a hand, burping slightly as he slammed back more of his beer. “What I’m saying is that it’s ridiculous not to train dogs to attack your enemies.”

“I don’t actually have that many -” 

But the guy was already ranting, completely talking over Gordon. Pleadingly, Gordon looked at the other guy they were sitting with for help, but he just sat there drinking his beer with eyes distantly fixed on the tacky retro diner signs hung on the wall. Traitor. 

“When you think about the entire thing’s stupid. The breed standards are just ridiculous, first off. Breeding dogs so they can’t bite, can’t bark, can’t hunt their own food? It’s stupid. What else is the point of a dog! Anybody around here remember why we breed dogs in the first place? It’s so they can help protect us, protect the pack. Dogs used to pull their own. And now they’re just shitty little lap dogs that rich old ladies use to wealth signal. It’s fucking stupid. Dogs are just freeloaders. And I don’t have any freeloaders in my house.”

“Wow,” Gordon muttered rebelliously, “did you read about that on Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia that anyone can edit?”

“So that’s why I’m proposing my new idea for dogs. A better dog. Dog 2, the sequel to dogs, if you will,” the guy continued, completely steamrolling him. “These dogs are huge, first of all. But not too huge, since you don’t want them to be a drain on your resources. I’d say definitely the size of a St. Bernard, maybe a little bit bigger. I don’t give a shit if it’s friendly to children or whatever. I don’t give a shit about children. If they can’t survive my dog attacking them, they were never going to make it to adulthood anyway. Survival of the fittest. Anyway, my dog’s going to be big. Short hair, because we live in a hot climate and I don’t want a dog that’s shedding everywhere. It’s not exactly going to be a polar rescue dog here, I need a dog that can survive the Arizona desert. But this dog has to be two things, and these two things are completely vital. Without these two things, it might as well be a Pomeranian.” The man held up two fingers. “One: the dog must be completely loyal to me. Intelligent, but not too intelligent that it doesn’t accept me as the alpha. I’m the alpha to the dog, as I’m also the alpha to the human race. Its loyalty must be complete. Like, I say jump, the dog says how high. That’s how intelligent it is too.” He pushed down the finger, keeping one up. “Second, the dog must be a cold blooded attack machine. I ain’t owning no pussy dog here. This dog is vicious. It can kill anything, and it will do it with pleasure. This dog feels no regret, pain, anguish, PTSD, hesitance, and it never fucking misses. Its teeth are huge and it’s an unrestrained attack machine. With this dog at my side, ain’t nobody’s fucking with me. Walking down the street with this dog next to me, nobody’s looking at me sideways. The chicks dig me. Everybody thinks I’m great. That’s why this is the ideal dog, above all other dogs.”

“Wow,” Gordon said desperately, really hoping that this was the end of the fucking dog conversation, “that’s great. My friend, uh, Tommy, he has a great Golden. Says it’s a perfect dog. That’s really possible actually, it survived like six turrets -”

“Idiot. That’s not what I fucking mean.” The guy scoffed at Gordon. “This perfect dog doesn’t exist. No dog is that immaculate. And if you try breeding for all those traits, you end up with some shitty inbred dog. No way. You gotta get more creative. Just wanting the perfect dog is for chumps who don’t understand genetics, evolution, dog breeding, dog training, warfare both physical and psychology, psychology itself, sociology, philosophy, or xenobiology. No. What I’m saying now is that in order to get the perfect dog, you have to breed aliens. I’m thinking headcrabs.”

Gordon distantly felt his jaw dropping. “Head - headcrabs?”

“Or those fucked up things with garbage disposal mouths,” the guy said thoughtfully. “Whatever they’re called. I don’t respect any of those shitty aliens enough to give them names. If you want me to remember your name, you have to earn it. My brain’s filled with much more important things, like theoretical physics and being better than you.”

“Garbage disposal - do you mean peeper puppies?!”

“Yeah, whatever. What I’m saying is that I’ve really cornered the market on xenobiology. I’m the world fuckin’ expert in dealing with aliens.” He looked thoughtful for a second as he chugged his beer again, which was a first. “Well. Dimensional expert. Point is, I can say with eighty seven percent confidence that, given enough time and unlimited access to a shock collar, I can train one of those shitty alien species crawling all over Black Mesa to obey my every command and slay my enemies. I could probably even turn it against its kinsmen. Get the aliens to wipe out the aliens, and humanity comes out on top. Then I turn my alien slaves against humanity, and Gordon Freeman is at top. So what do you think? Good idea or good idea?”

Gordon stared at him, slightly horrified, slightly incredulous, somehow amused. God, he had spent too much time around Benrey. This guy would love Benrey. He could never introduce them. “Terrible idea. I can’t believe we’re the same person.”

“You’re a loser. What about you, huh?” Freeman gestured with his cup at the third Gordon Freeman, who still seemed thoroughly checked out of the conversation. “What do you think? Want to invest some money into my plan? You’ll get a three hundred return on your investment, and dominion of the country of your choice.”

Gordon Freeman stared at Freeman blankly. He seemed really checked out. 

Freeman looked back at Gordon. “Is this guy retarded or something? That or he’s high off his ass, but I know how I get when I’m high and I’m never that out of it.”

“I’m not sure you aren’t on coke right now,” Gordon groused, sipping his own margarita. Which Freeman had called a ‘girl drink’. Asshole. “Why don’t you just -”

“Hey, Doc!”

Suddenly, with no more advanced warning than the overly friendly cry, Benrey - sorry, Barney - popped up at their table. Freeman groaned, ignoring him completely for favor of his drink, and Gordon waved weakly at him. He seemed - well, nice. Much nicer than Benrey. Not that it was hard. 

“You guys having fun or what?” Barney said, leaning against the table and winking at Freeman, who made a face. “We’re having a really good time at the Barney table, let me tell you. Maybe we can do Trivia Pursuit? That’ll be fun!”

“Don’t tell me you’re actually making friends with Benrey,” Gordon said, sighing. “Dude’s insufferable.”

“Blunt as ever, Doc,” Barney laughed. “Benrey’s not that bad! Just kind of a freak, you know?”

“Yeah,” Gordon said, impossibly depressed. “I know.”

“Anyway, I actually wanted to ask the Doc if he had my keys. Hold on a hot second.” Barney turned to the aforementioned zoned out Gordon Freeman, and abruptly started waving his hands around. Wait - was that sign language? When he glanced at Freeman, he seemed interested too. 

Even more amazingly, Gordon Freeman responded, rolling his eyes and tilting his fist before digging in his pocket and pulling out his keys, pressing them into Barney’s hands. Barney winked, signed out what Gordon recognized as a thank you, and fucked off back to the Barney table. If Gordon craned his head, he could see Freeman’s Barney (whose name Freeman didn’t even seem to know) trying to drink his beer as he was thoroughly terrorized by Benrey. Gordon couldn’t fight the crush of fondness that bloomed in his chest. Benrey was fun to watch when he was terrorizing someone else - but you could say that about all of his friends, really. 

Then the implications of that exchange hit Gordon over the head. He turned to Gordon Freeman, who seemed to have gone back to checking out of the conversation. “Wait, are you freaking deaf?”

Gordon blinked at him sleepily. Gordon cursed, rummaging around on the table until he found a napkin, and Freeman passed him a pen as he wrote down in large, blocky letters ‘ARE YOU DEAF???’ and slid it to Gordon Freeman. 

Gordon Freeman stared at it. He looked up at the two of them and - oh, god, he was definitely smirking. Like the cat that caught the fucking canary. He tilted his fist in what even Gordon recognized as a yes. 

“You fucking asshole!” Gordon exploded. “You left me to suffer with this guy alone? How could you? That’s not team behavior!”

“You got pranked, bro!” Benrey called, from across the room. “Bro, you got mad pranked! El oh el, bro!”

“Shut up, asshole!”

“Hey, what do you mean?” Freeman asked, offended. “My ideas are genius. This is a unique business opportunity, here. You’ll never get another chance to make three hundred percent back on your investment again -”

“Epic fail, bro!” Benry called. 

Gordon groaned and started chugging his margarita. He would need to be a lot drunker if he was going to get through this stupid extradimensional mistake. 

[fandom-necromancer]

Alcohol induced Bravery

This was prompted by the amazing @headfulloffantasy! I hope you enjoy, I had my fun!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900

Nines startled as out of nowhere Gavin jumped in his view and slammed his fist on the table. He looked up at the grinning man. ‘Tonight, we’re going out drinking!’ ‘Drinking?’ ‘Yes!’ Nines leaned back against his chair in confusion but smiled at his partner’s excited face. ‘Gavin, I will need more information. May I ask why?’ ‘Of course!’ Gavin happily planted his ass on the table, completely ignoring that it was neither of their breaks and Nines had been about to finally finish that report. ‘You are as of now three-hundred-eighty-five days stuck with me.’ Nines frowned. ‘And fifteen hours, four minutes and thirty-seven seconds, to be exact. Why does this matter?’ ‘You broke the record’, Gavin smiled leaning forwards. ‘You have endured the asshole detective longer than anyone else.’ Nines chuckled to himself. ‘Well, maybe that’s because I actually enjoy your company?’ ‘Yeah, sorry, but you won’t beat Tina’s record there. But: You are the first one of my partners I actually enjoy the company of, so… Yeah, congrats, you got that title too. But now back to the subject: are you free tonight?’ ‘Sure. Didn’t have anything planned in the first place’, he lied, cancelling games night with the Andersons the very second Gavin had asked. Connor would understand. ‘Nice! Then we’ll meet at eight. I’ll send you the address later!’

It was one of the nicer bars in Detroit, Nines realised, as he stepped out of the taxi that had brought him here. Advertised as android-friendly with experimental thirium drinks it had quickly become a hot-spot for both species. Nines watched two women in stylish clothing exit, one blushed red, one blue. Both seemed intoxicated but happy and a very own blue blush spread over Nines cheeks as he saw them kiss. Of course, android-human couples used this spot too. He would simply try to focus on Gavin, not to make it too obvious. If only he could find- ‘Hey, tin-can!’ A hand on his shoulder made him turn around to the human. ‘Wow, Nines, looking good!’ Nines smiled awkwardly, taking in the human. Oh, it wouldn’t be difficult to keep his attention on him, but if that could keep him from flushing blue…

‘You look good yourself’, he muttered flattered at him and lowered his head. ‘Yeah, thought to leave the old leather jacket at home and try something a bit fancier. Should we go in? I made sure they have a table for us.’ Gavin smiled at him and Nines followed him closely. The man had indeed exchanged hoodie, dark jeans and leather jacket for beige pants and a light blue shirt. The fairer colours looked weird, but not out of place for him. Nines liked it. He liked it a lot. Gavin had folded up his sleeves accentuating his muscles nicely and the pants looked just a little bit tighter than what he wore at work. Nines noticed too late, he had been still staring at Gavin when they had sat down, and the man asked him what to drink.

‘Nines? Hey, Nines!’ Gavin snapped his fingers in front of the android’s face, grinning. Had he bluescreened or something? He had been absentmindedly stared at him all the way to their table. Ah, likely just a bit overwhelmed and caught off guard. Hank had told him Nines didn’t go out much. ‘Hey, anything of this sounds good to you?’ He pushed over the menu, already turned to the pages that had the thirium drinks. He smiled as Nines looked first at him, then at the card. Gavin used the time to really look at the other, too. He hadn’t been lying when he had said Nines looked good. Hell, he looked perfect. He always did. But this time he had chosen an expensive looking white coat with black accents. Now he shrugged out of it and revealed a soft looking black turtleneck that wrapped tightly around his body and fit his black trousers perfectly. Shit, Gavin should stop. They were work partners and friends. If the toaster wanted anything more, he could speak up. Gavin wouldn’t dare endangering what they had by asking himself.

‘I don’t know what anything of this is’, Nines said instead. ‘I guess it will simulate the effect alcohol has on humans. But I never drank something like this.’ Gavin shrugged. ‘Just try it. If you don’t like it, pick something else. I have your back, if something goes wrong, I’ll get you home and call Connor to look you over.’ Nines nodded to himself a few times, still indecisive. ‘You don’t have to drink anything, too. If that worries you’, Gavin quickly supplied. ‘I’m just here for a fun time to celebrate it.’ ‘No, I think I’ll try it.’ Nines closed the menu and put it back in the stand on the table. ‘Just one thing’, he added as an afterthought. ‘Should I drink too much and pass out from this… Don’t you dare drawing on me!’ Gavin laughed. ‘I don’t think we’ll get there today, but sure. No drawing!’

-

‘And then… And then he…’ Gavin was trying hard to tell the story without laughing at the ending Nines eagerly awaited. ‘He just left! Like… Went to Fowler. “Transfer me to a different precinct! If not, I’ll hand in my batch!” Funniest shit to witness.’ Nines had his chin rested on his arm that was planted on the table. He was sure that if someone pulled the table out from under him, he would simply collapse and lie on the ground until someone had the courtesy to lift him up again. However that thirium-alcohol worked, he was feeling it. He was warm, everything around him was muffled and dulled, while his mind managed to hyper focus on only one thing: Gavin Reed’s lips. Moving. Telling him how he lost the partners before him. In his opinion, none of the reasons listed where valid. Yes, Gavin could be annoying, lost his temper easily and wasn’t the best at compromising. But he was funny, intelligent, didn’t need to compromise because his approach most likely was the best one anyways and oh, he was so much more cute than annoying. Nines smiled at the memory of Gavin throwing a tantrum over his lost pen he was sure someone had maliciously stolen while it sat in his full coffee cup because the dumbass had mistaken it for the empty one.

While Gavin laughed, Nines’ eyes strayed further up to his eyes. These deep, grey, sparkling eyes with just the faintest emerald rim. The tiny creases around them as he laughed, true and honestly. He wiped the tears away with his hand, directing Nines to his scar and from there to his tough-guy scruff. As if the man could hide his soft side from him that way. ‘No, for real, my previous partners were assholes. I mean some could have been okay to work with, but nah… Glad to have you.’ Nines sighed, the words hitting where it counted. Somehow, he was sure the rising warmth in his body wasn’t – or at least not just solely – from the alcohol.

Gavin watched the android closely. He had meant what he had said. Nines was the best partner one could wish for: patient and understanding, determined enough to be convincing, but never pressed his opinions on others. He knew to read a person and understood when he needed time for himself and when he needed help. He was a true friend. A constant in his life Gavin hadn’t even known he needed. He wanted. And was that… Was the idiot flushing? Wow. He hadn’t even known an android could do that. ‘I… I’m glad to have you, too’, Nines whispered slowly, shily looking up at him. ‘I… I wanted to thank you for this. It’s nice.’ ‘What is nice?’, Gavin asked, feeling giddy about what the android was telling him. Nines looked to the side. ‘All of this. The bar. Celebrating something. Spending more time with you. Outside of work I mean.’ Gavin grinned. ‘Yeah, Nines, I like it too. We could do this more often.’ ‘How often?’, the android asked. How did he sound so hopeful? Maybe it was the alcohol, but Gavin leaned back and smirked. ‘However often you want.’ He saw Nines swallowing. Then he looked at him more seriously than the situation should allow. ‘I like you Gavin.’ ‘Hey, tin-can, me too’, Gavin shrugged swirling his glass in his hand. ‘I like you a lot.’ Oh-oh. ‘Err… I… I like you a lot, too.’ Now Gavin was the one blushing as he felt his ears warm up. Nines nodded. ‘I think I… I think I love you, Gavin.’ And with how shy and hopeful the damn android looked at him, what else could Gavin say? ‘Damn, love you too, Nines.’

Nines grinned and hobbled a bit closer on the bench of the booth. ‘Err… Would you mind if we… Can I kiss you?’ ‘Man, I thought you would never ask!’

[causallyrambling]

Kissing strangers

The sign he was holding said “Kiss me. Man only. 18 and up!” He had just gotten to the spot and he was already feeling like a fool. But a dare is a dare and Hanamaki Takahiro was not going to back down from a challenge this easily. Even if he was the one who gave himself this stupid challenge. Fingers tugging on the black beanie lower, Hanamaki pouted at the lack of enthusiasm. Maybe he was not going to be able to complete this dare today. The deal was to get a hundred kisses from men for the video. How did he end up in another dare because of one dare? Makki pondered about his life choices as he noticed a figure inching carefully towards him, pointing at the sign. “Are you for real?” A chuckle passed between them and the awkward moment. The pinket brightened up and winked. “Yes, come on.” He curled his finger at the male, who looks a year or two younger than he did, urging him to come closer. Iwaizumi was not amused at this dumb challenge but came along because Hanamaki had promised him a month’s worth of agedashi tofu if he helped with the filming.

After the first kiss, things started to pick up and Makki got the weird feeling out of his system after the fifth guy. Iwaizumi chuckled when a drunken man had insisted more than just one kiss, with Hanamaki obliging but saying, “Kissing more than once does not count.” They shared a short moment of laughter before continuing with filming. It was surprising how fast the stream of males came towards the pinket for a chaste kiss to the lips. Hanamaki did note that several of them were good looking but only had the challenge on his mind and thinking how long more before he could wrap this video up.

“Hey Iwa, how many more till I’m done?”

“Last count, you’re at seventy six, so twenty four lips more to go.” Iwaizumi held the camcorder away, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Twenty four more till a month of agedashi tofu.” By the look on his face, one would think that he was promised gold and not just tofu. “You’re weird, you know that?” The pinket reached in his jacket pocket, pulling out his chapstick, reapplying. The weather was making his lips crack easier and kissing so many lips was starting to feel a little gross. “There must be a reason why I’m friends with you.” Iwaizumi raised the camcorder again, aiming it at Hanamaki as group of students approached.

“Seventy seven, seventy eight, seventy nine, eighty!” Hanamaki counted with each pair of lips he kissed from the group of students. He noticed the uniform and started laughing. “Hey Iwa, does this count as tainting my juniors?” Questioning his best friend as Iwaizumi realized why he thought the uniform looked familiar. “Yes.” A deadpan looked appeared on Iwaizumi’s face as he sighed. As the pinket was still laughing to himself, leaving a group of students confused and flustered at the attention, his number eighty one stood before him. “Ahem, still need more kisses?” A deep baritone asked him. “It’s probably your lucky day because I do.” He noticed the thick eyebrows and sun-kissed skin, staring to smirk. Hanamaki stood taller, realizing that he was slightly shorter than the stranger, leaning forward when fingers curled under his chin, pulling his face in. The kiss definitely lasted longer than the rest before Iwaizumi shouted. “If you don’t get a move on, we are never leaving tonight.” And that broke the small bubble and Hanamaki pulled himself away from the handsome stranger, feeling a little awkward. “Eighty one!” The hand that held him dropped and the stranger had stepped away. “I wish you luck!” And then, he turned, disappearing back into the crowd. Before Hanamaki even had the chance to lament the fact that he had just lost the chance to chat up a handsome man, someone else had come up, sneaking a peck to his lips. He continued kissing strangers till he had one last kiss. “Iwa, get your ass here!” As if realizing why he was called, Iwaizumi stook his head. “Nope, nope, nope. You only said to help hold this camcorder and film. You said nothing about being kissed.” Iwaizumi stepped away from the pinket but was suddenly trapped because they had gathered a large crowd around them since they had started filming. “What kind of a best friend are you, if you don’t help me complete this, Iwa? Huh?” Hanamaki was drawing closer with a widest grin on his face. Forcefully, he grabbed Iwaizumi in a head lock, stealing the camcorder from his best friend. “Kiss number one hundred!” He pressed a long, hard kiss on Iwaizumi’s lips, making his friend flush red, with embarrassment or anger he’s not too sure but he will find out soon enough. Pulling away, Iwaizumi started grumbling in the background about murder and disowning Hanamaki but those can be removed in the editing. Hanamaki held the camcorder with both hands outstretched in front of him, grinning. “I have now kissed a hundred guys. Stay tune to see what other nonsense I will get myself into. It’s been great! That’s Iwaizumi, the grumpy best friend and,” He turned to camcorder towards the crowd. “And thanks for tonight!”

-

“You owe me more than a month’s worth of tofu, you dipshit.” Iwaizumi has not stopped harping about the tofu since they’ve finished the filming in front of the train station. A bowl of agedashi tofu sat on the table before him at this moment and he was still talking about tofu. Hanamaki wondered what’s up with him and the side dish. “Yea, yea. A tofu a day keeps Iwaizumi at bay.” The pinket chuckled as he picked up his own pair of chopsticks, going to start on his own meal. It’s been a long day of filming and he deserved all the cream puffs in the world for that. However, they were now sitting inside a family restaurant because the old man he calls his best friend wanted agedashi tofu. The creampuffs can wait. An angry, hungry Iwaizumi was definitely scary and the pinket only needs to been shown that scene once in his entire lifetime.

-

/Do you have anything to tell me Mattsun? ^_______^ /

He stared at the message, going into deep thought about what the message meant. That expression at the end said Oikawa knew something but Matsukawa doesn’t know what the brunet was implying.

/Is there anything I should know to tell you?/

/Maybe…. http://youtube.com/watch?v=mp5u0_5e8_A /

Oikawa was being weird and Matsukawa had no idea why. Although a lot of times, he had no clue what’s on the brunet’s mind. Curious a little wary, he opened the link that was sent. A youtube video opened and nothing made sense until the owner of the video appeared on screen. Oh. The pinket, he comes to know is a youtuber named ‘takahero’, sat in front of the camera explaining about the dare with various hand gestures and Matsukawa found himself watching the video with a slight smile spreading on his face.

Kissing strangers, that was the title of the video, so it shouldn’t surprise him when the popular song started playing when the pinket was done talking and the screen turned black before revealing the youtuber standing in the middle of the street with a sign. He was however, glad that he chose to use his earphones. The rest of the video played out as how Matsukawa remembered from he was watching from the sidelines before he stepped forward to join the mass of people getting kissed. However, there were some comments or inner monologues added into the video with each kiss. Some were hilarious, like when some drunken dude kissed more than once and a ‘wow dude, you are drunk’ comment hovered above the man’s head. While others were random jumble of words as though the pinket had ran out of things to say. He wondered if he would have a comment attached to his. He watched the pinket counted each kiss and chuckled when the captions were conversations of him and his friend about a group of students.

/I am not responsible for how these students turn out, teachers. I did nothing./ Was the comment floating above the heads of the group of students. It was obvious he did more than nothing though, from how flustered some of the boys were behaving. Matsukawa remembered the students. A red comment appeared before the camera panned towards him and Matsukawa let out a loud chuckle. /Hottie alert!/ He held his hand over his mouth trying to stifle his laughter but his eyes widened at how long their kiss seem to prolong. He did not remember it being that long. Narrowing his eyes, he figured the youtuber might have edited it to seem that it was longer than it was, just for the effect. He even added a weird glowy effect around them and Matsukawa couldn’t stop himself from laughing, which earned him a round of shushing from the people around him. Maybe the library is not the best place to be watching this video. Since he left immediately after, Matsukawa was curious about the other kissers after him. He had a dinner appointment with Oikawa who would have made him buy a year’s worth of milk bread if he was late. His laughter continued at the last kiss because it was obvious that the last one had been reluctantly forced into it. He could see the grumpy face grumbling, which was muted, and a weird jumble of alphabets made the caption for that. The pinket’s voice invaded his ears again, followed by waves of girls’ screaming when the camera panned towards the crowd. At the end of the video, there were a couple of other video suggestions filmed by the pinket but Matsukawa put that away to watch later. Scrolling down, he noticed that the video has been viewed a lot more than he had thought when he stepped forward to kiss the pinket. No wonder Oikawa had chanced upon it. It has probably been shared throughout the campus by now. A hundred thousand views after been posted for twenty four hours is an impressive feat. The pinket must have a large following. He continued to scroll, reading the comments. There were a couple of degrading ones that were bordering on being homophobic but the pinket’s come back was fearless and somewhat amusing. Still feeling a little amused, he typed a quick comment.

/Sliding in to say hi. – The ‘hottie alert’ guy/

With that done, maybe it’s time he went back to his books and notes. He really needed the extra marks for this semester.

/So, mattsun, what do you have to say for yourself?/

/That I kissed a stranger and now have to get back to studying, which you should be doing too!/

/O M G MATTSUN YOU LEFT A COMMENT./

/O M G OIKAWA GO AND STUDY./

/DON’T BE SASSY WITH ME MISTER. ARE YOU FLIRTING? DO YOU NEED HELP? I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE./

/BYE./

Matsukawa knew ignoring Oikawa was not going to play out well but he really did need to study and the brunet was not helping at all. Turning off his cellphone, he tossed it on top of his bagpack that was laid on the table and buried his head with his opened notebook, literally. It was going to be a long day in the library before he finished reading through these notes.

-

Four hours and several cups of coffee later, Matsukawa was finally done for the day. Throwing his arms in the air to stretch out, he yawned and started to pack. The library was closing in half an hour time so he should get a move on anyway. His cellphone slid off his bag as he packed his notes and books in and for a moment he had forgotten that he had switched it off to deter disturbance from a certain nosey brunet.

/Matsukawa Issei, I can’t believe you turned your phone off on your best friend?/

/Fine be that way./

/I’m helping you./

/Whether you want it or not./

/You’re not going to regret this./

/It’ll be good./

He was bombarded with several messages upon turning the device on. He knew Oikawa was not going to leave him alone but something tells him that he shouldn’t have left Oikawa to his own devices for this long. A long dreadful minute passed before he slid his thumbs across his screen, replying the brunet.

/Just what did you do?/

An instant reply had his phone buzzing. /Check the video page and you’ll know./

His eyes widen and he shook his head. No, he did not. Oikawa did not. Scrolling up the chat, he found the link and opened again. Immediately he noticed that the views had gone up several thousand more after he had seen it and the comment box was flooding. The top comment had the most replies and he almost smacked himself with his cellphone because that username was one he recongised. Speed reading, not only did Oikawa actually pimp him out online to ‘takahero’, the youtuber actually replied with something that resembled interest. Several others had jumped into that conversation, egging the brunet to tell more. Mentally cursing his previous choice of ignoring Oikawa, Matsukawa knocked his head against the table several times. When he was about to text-rage at Oikawa, the culprit had the nerve to text him first.

/So, long story short, I got you a date with pink boy./

/What did I do to deserve this?/

/Everything apparently. The internet thinks you owe me milk bread for matchmaking you two. A year seems about right./

/What did I do to deserve you as a friend?/

/Silly mattsun. That’s what friends do./

Giving up on trying his sarcasm on Oikawa, Matsukawa hit his forehead on the table once more for good measure. Maybe he’ll wake up and this would be a bad dream and his best friend had not pimp him out online. Although he should probably thank the brunet, since he did find the pinket cute, in an amusing sort of way. The library’s announcement came on, telling Matsukawa that it was fifteen minutes till closing time. Sighing once more, he pulled the strap to his bagpack and pocketed his cellphone. He wasn’t even sure he should be turning up for a date that was made public in such a weird manner.

/Anyway, coffee tmr at the café near campus, 3pm./

/Stop remembering my schedule./

/Na-uh, I need to know when I have a lunch buddy and don’t./

/Weird./

/Weirder./

-

Matsukawa was dreading as the time slowly ticked by. Oikawa has been messaging him all day, reminding about his very publicized date with the youtuber later. He has yet to decide if he was going to the café but the brunet had insisted that he had worked hard to get Mattsun that date so he was adamant that Mattsun was to show up at the place at 3pm sharp. Rubbing his hand down his face, he tried to ignore the hundredth text that he’s receiving from Oikawa, Maybe if he ignored him long enough, he will go away. But at last he couldn’t because the next he received was a phone call.

“Matsukawa Issei, you know you can’t ignore me forever. Also, I know for certain that your class has ended. So why are you still in campus?” At this point, Matsukawa wasn’t even surprised anymore. He adjusted the straps to his bagpack, glancing around, eyes narrowing when he noticed a familiar head of brown a floor above him on the opposite building. “You really need to stop stalking me. What would your fan girls say?” Obviously not caring about his image, Matsukawa pointed his middle finger at his friend. “Rude Mattsun! Here I was worried about your love life…” Matsukawa rolled his eyes and turned to walk away. “Mattsun that is not the right way to the café! You are going to the date, aren’t you?” It sounded a lot more like a command than a question. “You’re not my captain anymore, Oiks, stop commandeering me around.” He struck his hand out over his shoulders, waving. “Don’t you know, mattsun, once a captain always a captain. Now get your ass to the café.”

“Pft, goodbye captain.” Matsukawa hung up before Oikawa could whine another reply. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go. He just did not want to give Oikawa the right to gloat. He did have thirty minutes to decide about the date though. Without much to do and Oikawa having his next class, Matsukawa found shade under a tree, choosing to check out more videos from ‘takahero’. Sitting the warm grass patch, he leaned against the tree, opening the first video that came up with his search of the username. Apparently the pinket was known for doing the weirdest and silliest dares on youtube and has collaborated with other male youtubers. After watching five videos, Matsukawa has laughed more than he has in months and his jaw was sore from laughing and smiling. Would subscribing to the channel seem too much? Too desperate? Deciding against it, he found a newer video that was posted earlier today.

Instead of the usual edited videos, this seemed like a vlog type of video. The pinket was holding onto his cellphone and the scene seemed like his bedroom. It seems like anything can be made into a youtube video if there was the right audience subscribing to the channel. “So you guys know I’ve been sort of ask on a date by a friend of that hottie from the previous video…” The pinket chuckled. “It’s so odd and kind of weird. Like who asks someone out on a date in the youtube comment section? And it wasn’t even the person himself…” It seemed he was putting on his shoes and was heading out. “But you know what, I’ve always been told I’m weird so I think weird works fine for me.” The camera panned towards the scenery outside. “And today seems like a good day to be out and about anyway. Well, I’m hoping that this is not some prank and I don’t get stood up. But I might as well enjoy the day out and maybe I’ll get good coffee and pastry.” He turned the camera back towards his face and he was grinning. “And you guys know how much I love my pastries. Anyway, check back in later to see if I get to meet the hottie or it’s just my creampuffs and me. Oh, as much as I love how much everyone is talking about it, please don’t scare the dude off by appearing at the café. It’s time I hang out with other hot people. I’ll be on twitter! Wish me luck!” Then the video ended and it seems Matsukawa has just decided. He will be an asshole for not turning up for the date. The pinket seemed genuine enough and like he said, it could just be a good cup of coffee and pastry.

-

A short walk brought him around the corner to where the café Oikawa mentioned stood between a bookstore and a jewelry store. He had imagined it to be buzzing with people since ‘takahero’ did looked to have a following of thousands and he did see more than ten people commenting on Oikawa’s comment yesterday. But he was pleasantly surprised when the café was as always, quiet with a couple of tables taken by students trying to finish up on their assignments. Walking closer, his eyes landed on a head of pink seated indoors, at a corner table by the windows. The feeling of awkwardness hit him like a train and he stood there outside the door, deciding if this was the best decision when the pinket looked up and noticed him, his face immediately brightening into a smile. God damn that smile. Matsukawa pushed the wooden door and made his way towards the table where the youtuber had fumbled a little and stood as well. “Okay this is a lot more awkward than I thought.” A slim finger scratched down the pinket’s cheek. “Also, I wasn’t sure if your friend was bluffing but I got you the darkest as soul drink available on the menu.” He pointed towards the cup of black coffee in the seat across from him. Matsukawa chucked. “Yes, that would be right. Dark as soul, huh.” He noticed that he was taller when though this was not their first time standing next to each other. “So, I’m the hottie alert guy, Matsukawa Issei, and I think my friend has probably given you my life story by now.” A hand held his. “And I’m the dude that has kissed a hundred others for a dare. Hanamaki Takahiro.” Upon hearing the name, Matsukawa chuckled again. “I see your username is a play on your actual name. That’s cute.” He noticed the faint colour rising on Hanamaki’s cheeks. “We should probably sit and be civilized people. Instead of standing around like doofus.” The pinket gestured to the comfortable chairs, already feeling the odd looks the other patrons were giving them.

-

An hour and half later, they’ve shared more than just coffee and cream puffs. At the end of that, they had each other’s email addresses and phone numbers. They parted ways after Matsukawa realized he actually have assignments to complete because he was a struggling college student but not without Hanamaki saying that he will be in touch soon. Just as he stepped into his dorm room, a text message came from Oikawa and he knew because the brunet has set the song ‘The Imperial March’ as his personalized ringing tone and Matsukawa has been too lazy to change it. Opening the message, he smiled at the image his friend had set. It was a screenshot taken from twitter. Just after they’ve exchange contact details, Hanamaki had asked for a photo together and he was now staring at it along with a caption Hanamaki had posted to his twitter.

/Look who turned up! ;)/

/Good night Oikawa./

/Looks like you had good time, mattsun./

/Good night./

He probably owes Oikawa milkbread, but he will deal with that later.

[shieldwinter]

Of Green and Grey [Preview]

Here’s the preview for my new fic! Inspired mostly by Fallout 4 (because I’m most familiar with it over the other Fallout games) 

Synopsis: Steve was recovered from the arctic in 2040 due to melting icecaps, but instead of defrosting him, the United States government decided to store him in a cryogenic state until desperate times would call for the activation of Captain America. This time would never come, as the world entered the last World War in 2077, and the world was ravished by nuclear fallout. Over two hundred years later, Nick Fury and his group of ragtag defenders find Steve in cryogenic sleep, and release him from his icy slumber.  The United States is no more, but with the rise of an insidious scientific group known as Hydra, Captain America may be needed more than ever. 

Enter Hydra Courser B1-07, a third generation Synth, created to be their number one agent. He is tasked to infiltrate, and take down these so called Defenders, Avengers, and meets his match in Captain America; both mentally and physically. The peak of technological innovation, meets the peak of human perfection. What can become of them?

He was cold. He was numb. Moving his fingers proved to be difficult. They were stiff, his bones feeling brittle, as he attempted to curl them into a fist. His eyelids were another challenge, darkness clouding his vision as Steve fought to open them. They felt glued together, frosted over with a biting chill. Was he breathing? He couldn’t tell. Every breath he tried to force in burned, like he was shoved down face first into a snowdrift, forced to struggle in oxygen.

Where was he? The last thing Steve remembered was the Valkyrie, the fight with Johann Schmidt, speaking to Peggy and putting the plane into the water. He remembered the feeling of rushing arctic water, filling the plane and sinking her down, down, into the depths of the ocean. He remembered accepting his fate, knowing people were safe because of his sacrifice, and that Steve could die relieved, could die a hero. 

He didn’t feel dead, however. He felt like he was struggling to wake up, to fight against the cold that consumed him. Steve felt like he was slowly getting warmer, his body regaining some function as more time passed. He sucked in his first breath that didn’t hurt, but it resulted in a gasping cough, his lungs fighting the chilled air. “Oh my god, Nick, he’s alive!” He heard, the voice sounding like it was underwater, and Steve lifted his head to the best of his abilities, finding frosted glass obscuring his vision. So he was alive, then? This wasn’t some bizarre afterlife that was defrosting him from the arctic before opening it’s gates. A buzzer sounded, then a mechanical voice blared from somewhere in the distance, and slowly the frosted glass left his eyeline, lifting and lifting to reveal a man with a shock of blond hair, wide blue eyes peering at Steve as if he was some kind of anomaly. 

“Who..?” Steve tried, but with the rush of warm air flooding the chamber he was in, his iced over clothing began cracking away, his only anchor to keep him upright, and he began to tumble over. “Wow, wow, wow!” Shouted the man, and suddenly too warm hands landed on him, preventing Steve from smacking into the ground. “Shit, dude, you’re like ice. You alright?”

Steve blinked, and blinked again, his vision swimming. He tried to focus on his surroundings, but everything was so grey, so metal. “Who..? Where am I?” Steve tried again, his voice coming out wrong, scratchy. The man held him up, shifting his grip to straighten Steve on his own two feet, and he stepped back to arm’s length. He looked him over with concerned, and curious eyes. “Name’s Clint, and we’re in some fucked up military facility.” The man, Clint, offered a smile with his words, and Steve wondered if it was supposed to reassure him. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed movement, and turned his head to see a dark skinned man, with an ominous eyepatch over one eye, and a red-haired woman who seemed to have a permanent frown, evident by the down turned smile lines on her face. The man with the eyepatch stepped forward, and Steve took note of the confident way he walked, accentuated with the long trench coat he wore. “I’m Nick Fury, and this here is Natasha,” he made a motion to the woman, still standing behind him. She hadn’t bothered moving a muscle. “Now that our introductions are out of the way, who are you?” Nick asked, his tone commanding. It reminded Steve of Colonel Phillips, a man who asked questions expecting immediate answers. 

Steve, feeling sure of holding his own weight now, shrugged off Clint’s hands before taking a step back and rising to his full height, assuming parade rest. Clint backed off, understanding that Steve didn’t need the support. His clothes felt wet, the longer he stood there, body warming to the temperature in the facility, and thanks to the serum that coursed through his veins. “My name is Captain Steve Rogers, sir. United States Army,” he informed, voice finding that happy medium between his normal timbre and the tone he used with the Commandos. 

There was a snort of a laugh, and Steve’s attention flew to the woman, Natasha, who hadn’t made a move or a single sound since he fell out of the chamber. Now, she looked amused, whereas Nick had an eyebrow raised. It was like they found what Steve had said odd, out of place, and he couldn’t wrap his head around why. Sure, he had just been defrosted right in front of them, but that didn’t seem to faze them much aside from Clint’s comment of him being alive, and feeling like ice. Yet his military introduction stifled a laugh out of Natasha.

It was Clint who spoke first. He seemed to be the more hospitable of the three, and the one to show the most emotion. “You’re pre-war?” He asked, sounding awed, but his words caused Steve to blink, dumbfounded. Pre-war? What did that even mean?

He voiced as much, falling from his parade rest to lean back on his heels. “What does that mean?” “Y’know, from before the Great War?” Clint elaborated, but it only led to Steve feeling more confused. “Son, the Great War happened before my time,” he tried to explain, glancing from Clint, to Natasha - who still looked amused - to Nick, who just looked like he sucked on something sour. “I was just a few months old when the Treaty of Versailles was signed.”

Now, it was everyone but Steve’s turn to look confused. What the hell was going on? “The Treaty of Versailles?” He spoke again, tone questioning, “the ending of World War One?”

“Oh shit,” Natasha said, the amusement completely gone from her face, replaced by horror. Nick glanced back at her, before his attention went directly to Steve. He looked disbelieving, angry almost. “Are you trying to tell me you were alive for the first World Wars?” Nick asked, voice booming. If Steve wasn’t used to dealing with military superiors, he would have flinched back. He held firm, however, unsure what Nick was about to get at. “Yeah. Steven Grant Rogers, born July Fourth, Nineteen-Eighteen. I fought and served in World War Two, on the Western front,” he explained, and at the stares he got, a creeping chill shuddered up his spine, and it wasn’t from the chamber. It wasn’t from the arctic. This was different, this was terror. “What year is it?” and he was met with silence, the trio looking back and forth to each other. Steve felt that terror spike, his heart in his throat. He took one step towards Nick Fury, fists clenching at his sides, and he didn’t miss the way Natasha’s hand went to a gun at her hip that Steve failed to notice. “What year is it?” He repeated, voice demanding.

“It’s Twenty-Two Eighty-Seven, Captain Rogers. The United States fell in Twenty Seventy-Seven. Seems you’ve been asleep for over three-hundred years.”

Steve felt off-kilter. He felt like the ground was slipping away from him. This was so much worse than the water of the arctic. This was so much worse than going through with the serum. Not only was the war over, but the United States was gone. Everything he fought, and died for, was gone. His friends weren’t just dead, and buried, they were ash. Were their headstones even still standing? How long was too long without proper maintenance to a cemetery? And God above, Peggy. He wouldn’t get to see her again. He wouldn’t get to know if she went, and had a family. Three-hundred years was a length of time he couldn’t even wrap his brain around. Everything was gone. He felt his knees hit the ground first, and Steve thought he heard Clint’s shout of surprise, but darkness began to consume him again, only this time Steve craved the biting chill, but was only greeted by smooth metal. 

[kriativity]

Chapter One: The Woman Who Whispered

    The Woman Who Whispered was very old––eighty, seven thousand five hundred-years-old to be specific. The Woman Who Whispered looked sickly, with her cement gray eyes, hair, maxi dress, and skin. The Woman Who Whispered was on the phone to Nocia, alongside Isla.

Isla was rereading one of her favorite books: Fangirl, by Rainbow Rowell, it was quite relatable for Isla, who was a Marvel, Star Wars, Taylor Swift, K-Pop, and book obsessed thirteen-year-old girl, who had an ao3 account. Fangirl was a rather good book, though Isla couldn’t get her mind off The Woman Who Whispered; every time she’d look up because she was frustrated. After all, the main character did something stupid, Isla would hear The Woman Who Whispered muttering words like, danger or triumph and even several names, including Isla’s.

Isla had finished her reread of Fangirl when the plane landed. She and her parents scrambled to get out of the plane. Her parents waited outside, whilst Isla grabbed her suitcase, books, and ear-phones from the seat and the upper-hand compartment; which was exactly what she was doing when she was given a tap on the shoulder by The Woman Who Whispered. Isla just smiled at her, but clearly, The Woman Who Whispered was not satisfied with just a smile, so she whispered to Isla––her voice, very much matching her appearance.

“Isla Jaykripa Kalaiarasan, you and several others are in danger. Grave danger.” She whispered, her voice almost blending into the silence of the airplane, yet the whisper was heard by Isla.

“Who are you?”Isla asked.”And how do you know my name?”

“My name is Claire Rogshirocks but call me Claire, and to answer your second question you’ll know incredibly soon.”

“Ok….Claire.”Isla intoned.”I suppose I’ll look for clues.”

“No need to do so.” The Wo–––Claire said, her voice was huskier, and even quieter, though Isla could still hear it.”You’ll find out naturally, and very very soon.”

“Let’s see about that,” Isla said, right before seeing Claire disintegrate into gray dust. Isla rushed out to the airport. Her parents stood there as if she hadn’t taken longer than expected. Isla and her parents headed to the baggage claim to get their checked luggage before leaving the airport

***

Isla’s mother called out for a taxi with a very shrill whistle. A yellow cab rushed through the busy streets of Albany, New York, to find the family waiting for it. A balding man stuck his head out of the window. The family got into the car and asked to be driven to Eutychia Academy. As they drove, Isla watched the busy city run out of sight. Wow, Isla thought. The city seemed nice, though she wouldn’t be there most of the time, as Eutychia Academy lived farther south, closer to Reikla Beach

Eutychia Academy was one of the most wondrous schools of the century. The owner was a woman who inherited millions of billions of dollars from her family once they had died. With that money, she decided to make a school, an unconventional one. A school that held the key to the treasure chest that was learning, with hands-on activities, bigger budgets, no grades, and shorter days, and no homework. It was an independent school so there was no reason for tests, like the P.S.A.T. or the S.A.T. . There was also individualism in the curriculum, students had to interview for a spot at the school and they would choose a study, which is a certain subject a student would focus on. (though, if desired they could experiment with different subjects) Isla, herself, was studying Creative Writing, and also had a class in journalism, and decided to join the Film Club. The school also had a university, that anyone who went to the school could go to. Isla was incredibly excited to study at Eutychia Academy.

Once they had gotten out there, Isla rushed out of the car. It looked just as it did on the website, with its multiple campuses and buildings made of brick. The building was crawling with its students. Isla saw the courtyard, where one girl with her caramel hair tied up in a ponytail was sitting and working in her sketchbook. She was working in front of the office where someone would get checked in and admitted into a dorm. Isla and her parents walked up there to check into Isla’s dorm unit. Inside the office, the family found a blonde woman with sky blue eyes sitting at the desk, furiously working at her gum while typing away at her keyboard.

“Hi! Could we check into my unit?”Isla asked.

“Of course we can. My name Mrs.Keefner, the receptionist here.” Mrs.Keefner said. “What’s your name?”

“Isla Jaykripa Kalaiarasan.”Isla answered

“Ok, let me just type in your name in the search engine and we’ll be good.”Mrs.Keefner said.

“Thank you so much, Mrs.Keefner!”Isla said.

“Of course, sweetpea, it’s my job after all.”Mrs.Keefner replied as Isla smiled. “You’re apart of Unit .”

“Ok, thank you,” Isla said. The family walked out of the office, and they rolled all of Isla’s suitcases––one for books, one for manuscripts, and another for her clothes. Isla’s parents said goodbye, hugged, and kissed her, they also made sure she didn’t forget a bag or anything like that. Isla found the girl with caramel hair still sitting and working at her sketchbook. Isla could tell she was around her age––thirteen or fourteen, definitely a freshman. Isla was at least a few inches taller than her. She seemed talented, drawing some sort of anime character. Isla wanted to say, hello or something, maybe make a friend, for once.

“Hi, I like your drawing,” Isla said.

“Oh hi! Er…...who exactly are you,” she said.

“Isla. Sorry to disturb you, it’s just, you seem talented.”Isla said. “What’s your dorm unit, you might as well want to get there.”

“Oh, I’m apart of Unit eighty-seven, and if you’re wondering my name’s Josephine Bernstine, call me Josie please,” Josephine said.

“No way! I’m apart of Unit eighty-seven too.”Isla said.

“That’s so cool. Want to find it together?” she asked.

“Yeah let’s do it!”Isla replied, with utter excitement.

The two of them found the map, which sat at the center of the courtyard. They looked around the map, eventually finding the dorm complex. They found Unit eighty-seven on the map, and eventually found it in front of them.

The units were like houses, and they held seven people. They had a living room, a kitchen, and an office, with sections on each side––one for a person. The dorms were private once claimed, you can only go to another student’s dorm with their permission. They held both boys and girls, though the dorms were sectioned, based on gender.

“Wow,” Josephine said. That would be one way to describe it, Isla thought to herself.

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

What Might Have Been - 19

@goodomenscelebration - Themes

Quite a lot has gone up! Read all chapters on AO3!

Still trying to post as many as I can but my computer is going wonky. The final 2 may have to wait for the morning (and then a break as I write more - it’s outlined, I swear!).

(CW: cliffhanger that I’m not resolving tonight! we are overdue for a POV switch)

(Also CW for Aziraphale being injured)

For those who missed the previous sections, “Kasbeel” is the name Aziraphale is traveling under. He is in an alternate universe, and the AU Aziraphale is not nice.

Stars

Kasbeel landed on the far side of Milton Keynes and hummed his wings. They would hear it, even at this distance, but it would take his godchildren some time to find the parking lot. Time they didn’t have.

He set Alex down beside the glass doors of the enormous steel building. They didn’t slide open automatically, but few things worked anymore. “I’m going to need to leave you here while I gather the others,” Kasbeel explained. “I believe there is a café of some description inside. See if any food survived the last seven years, you should know what to look for.”

“Ok,” Alex glanced nervously at the nearly-black sky. “They…the angels aren’t coming back, right?”

“I don’t know.” A metal fence ran beside the walkway, each pole twisted and rusted through. He picked out one that looked mostly solid and snapped it free. “If anyone tries to bother you, hit them with this repeatedly and scream as loud as you can.”

“Yes, sir!” Alex grinned, taking the metal rod.

“Oh, and as our people arrive, let them know they’re to gather at the covered area over there.” He pointed right. “I will return shortly.”

As he turned away, a wave of nausea – exhaustion – overtook Kasbeel. He ignored it, wiping more golden blood from his forehead. Not yet. Not yet.

--

Two hours later, Lyla stood just past the covered walkway, watching Kasbeel return from the dark sky. He flew much lower than he usually did, though he only carried Sofia. He stumbled as he landed, but carefully placed the nine-year-old girl onto the ground. “That’s…that’s all I could find.”

“Inez is still missing,” Lyla said. “And Ravi.”

“No, they were with me,” Sophia said, tears in her eyes. “Angels got them. They told me to hide under a car and…it worked…”

“That’s everyone accounted for, then,” Kasbeel said. She’d never realized an angel could look so pale. “Seven taken. I…I’m truly sorry…I did my best…”

Lyla pulled his arm over her shoulders and he leaned on her, heavily. “Look, you need rest. Why don’t you find someplace to stay for the…the night…” she glanced up at the blue-black sky, cinder sun still well above the horizon. Stars were already coming out. “We’ll be fine here.”

“No. You won’t.”

A murmur ran through the crowd. Ella was gesturing at Lyla to bring him over, several others were talking to Mickey. Some of the looks shot towards Kasbeel were grateful. Most weren’t.

“I think…I think they’re going to have some questions for you.”

“Ah. They saw him. I’m surprised I was able to keep it secret as long as I did.” He pushed himself upright. “Do you still trust me, Lyla?”

“I…don’t know. Should I?”

Instead of answering, he shuffled forward, resting his hands on the railing. “I suppose you’ve all heard by now.” A hush fell over the gathering, and his weakened voice seemed to carry, reverberating through the air. “And I want to tell you…it’s true. I am Aziraphale. Angel of the Eastern Gate, Principality of Earth. But not this Earth.”

To Lyla, it was just a rush of voices; she couldn’t make any sense of the shouts. But he just nodded as if he heard every word. “You’re right. It doesn’t make any sense. I fell through a – a hole in the sky, and I wound up here. On my Earth, none of this happened. We stopped the Apocalypse. No, I was barely involved. The humans stopped it, mostly.” He looked around the crowd. “I don’t know why that didn’t happen here. But I am…truly sorry for everything you have suffered.”

Another roar from the crowd, backing away, pulling the children from him. “This isn’t a trick!” He lost his balance for a moment, almost bending double over the railing. “What would I have to gain? The Guardian…the other Aziraphale…he could have taken all of you…”

Lyla stepped up beside him, rested a hand between his wings. “Kasbeel…I mean, A – Aziraphale…perhaps you should go. We can find our way to London from here. It’s only another week, maybe less.”

“You won’t make it!” He pointed to the sky. “The sun is already being extinguished. Next the moon, then the stars will fall – three days at most, almost certainly less.” He looked around the crowd, struggling to regain his composure. “I don’t know if you’ll be safe there, I don’t know if anywhere is safe, but…I will get you there. I promised.”

“How?” she demanded. “You’re half-dead and it’s forty miles away.”

“My dear Lyla. Don’t you know where you are?” He gestured around the enormous parking lot, towards the oversized vehicles left abandoned by the covered waiting area. “This is a bus station.”

--

Aziraphale leaned against the largest bus, trying to catch his breath. Not that he needed to breathe, but it really shouldn’t hurt this much to do so. He was only bleeding from a few spots, but he suspected the damage was worse than he’d originally thought.

He didn’t know what would happen if he discorporated here. So, he would simply have to do his level best not to.

Lyla stepped off the bus, shaking her head. “Well, it’ll only fit about seventy-five people, but you’ll be lucky if that many are willing to let you drive them.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I never learned to drive.” He shifted, pressing a hand against his ribs. “I’m going to fly it.”

“Fly it?” She glanced down the length of the bus, about seventy or eighty feet, several tons of steel. “Is that…something angels can do?”

“Well, I managed it once.” He smiled as confidently as he could. “Er, with two bodies on a scooter. But the principle is the same, and if I can replicate the feat, we should be in London in, oh, a matter of minutes. And across that energy barrier. I believe I know how to cross it.”

Lyla leaned closer, running a finger over the cut on his forehead. It stung, in a strangely bright way, causing stars to flash across his vision. “Fine. Is that something you can do? You look like you’re in a lot of pain.”

“I am.” He grimaced. “But my friend is in worse pain.” He could still hear the screams from the video. How long had Crowley been screaming? “I will see you all safe, and then I will rescue him and…”

“And what? You just told me the world ends in three days.”

“Well, precisely.” He smiled, trying to make it more hopeful than he actually felt. “Plenty of time. Once Crowley and I start working together…”

His eyes fell on the moon, just past first quarter, rising above the horizon. It was red as blood.

“Everyone on the bus.”

No one moved.

“Please. I promise I will get you there.”

Ollie started to walk forward, but Mickey grabbed his hand and pulled him back.

“My friends…” He pushed himself to stand up straight, ignoring the flashes of light at the edges of his vision. “No. I suppose I can’t call you that. If I were really your friend, I would have told you the truth from the beginning. But despite that, you trusted me. For nearly three and a half years, you’ve followed me, and I tried to keep you from danger.”

He shuffled forward, and the crowd pulled back slightly. “I know. I failed. We lost seven people today. I’ve led you, without supplies, without shelter to Milton Keynes of all places. But I won’t abandon you here. Let me lead you, one more time, to safety. And then you can…you can all leave, and spend what time you have left as you wish.”

Silence settled over the bus station.

“Wow. You know we don’t care about any of that, right?” Alex stepped forward still holding the metal bar. “Look, can that freaky double read your mind?”

Aziraphale blinked. “Er. No, not in any meaningful way.”

“Can he sense where you are?”

“Not at all, I should think.”

“The first time, he stood as close to you as I am now,” Lyla remembered. “Never even turned his head.”

“Alright.” Alex turned and waved to the crowd. “You heard them. Everyone on the bus.” And immediately, two hundred and seventy-three humans surged forward, filing quietly onboard.

“That’s…why…?” Aziraphale stared after them, at a loss for words.

Alex stepped next to him and scoffed. “You really think we didn’t trust you? Come on, Kasbeel, have a little faith.”

--

It would have taken much more than a miracle to sit that many people comfortably. They sat in each other’s laps, stood in the aisle and the doorwells, pressed as tightly together as the human body allowed. Someone even attempted to ride in the loo, but quickly abandoned that idea.

“I imagine this is how it feels to ride the Underground,” the angel commented, looking for a button that might start the bus.

“So if you never learned to drive,” Lyla asked, pressed against the back of his seat, “and you never rode public transport, how did you ever get anywhere? Flying?”

“Heavens, no. Crowley drove me.” A pained smiled fought across his face. “Ah, this must be it.”

He pressed the button.

The engine revved, and kept revving, several octaves above its usual pitch.

The bus jolted, pressing two hundred and seventy-four humans (and one angel) even closer together. Several in the aisle would have fallen from the change in balance, except there wasn’t even room to move.

“Right. Everyone hold on to…something!”

The whine of the engine reached a level humans couldn’t even hear.

And the bus shot forward.

The speedometer topped out at 150 mph, but they accelerated past that in the first seconds.

--

All along the M1, abandoned cars vibrated, bits of rock trembled in the still air.

A flash of blue-shifted light, shaped something like an inter-city bus, streaked past ten feet above the ground, vanishing in a blaze of red against the star-speckled sky. Five seconds later, anything on the motorway that was still flammable spontaneously ignited.

By the time the sonic boom arrived, the bus was nearly to London.

--

“What’s that? Is that it?” Lyla leaned over the angel’s shoulder straining to see through the windscreen.

“I hardly think that could be possible, we haven’t been driving for two minutes.”

“But we’ve got to be going nearly the speed of light!”

“My dear child, no. That would be dangerous.”

“We wouldn’t have passed that quickly if it was London,” Mickey pointed out. “Looked like a couple of warehouses.”

“There! That’s it!”

“No, that’s a service station,” said Mrs. Sherwood, somehow managing to stand despite carrying a child on each hip. “Used to be where you’d stop to put petrol in the car.”

“Oh. Hey,” Lyla leaned forward again. “Do we need petrol? Because if it takes more to drive fast, than we’d probably run out—”

“Lyla, please!” The bus lurched upwards, dodging above an overpass. “I am trying to break the laws of physics here, I do not need distractions!”

“Are we there yet?” called a child’s voice.

“Yes, yes!” Lyla slapped his shoulder. “There it is! A city! Just ahead! London!”

“No, that’s too soon…”

“I see a map!” Mickey pointed to a pocket on the side of Aziraphale’s seat.

“Got it!” Lyla leaned down to grab it at the same time Mickey did, cracking their skulls together. “Ow! Come on, I’m the navigator here, I should get to read the map.”

“Who said you’re the navigator? Navigator’s the one who calls—”

“Shotgun!” Alex squeezed between them, elbowing Mickey hard in the stomach. In a flurry of paper the map spread between the teenagers, showing the whole of England.

“Right. London’s over here, isn’t it?” Lyla jabbed with a finger.

“Don’t you even know how to read? That’s Sheffield!” Mickey traced a finger across the endless squiggles. “London is…here. And we’re coming down this road, so that’s…Luton! We passed Luton.”

“Wonderful,” the angel said, jaw tight. Lyla suddenly realized the strain he was under – his forehead broken out in a sheen of sweat, the cut on his forehead dripping golden blood again.

“Are you going to make it?”

“I can…keep this up for hours,” he assured her, though his smile wasn’t very convincing.

“Hey, Kasbeel?”

“Is this important, Alex?”

“I think so.” Alex’s voice was much more subdued than normal. “I think one of the stars just fell.”

All eyes turned to the windscreen, at the stars that filled the sky between the grey sun and the blood-red moon. Ahead of them, Arcturus trembled, broke loose, and streaked down towards the horizon.

The bus accelerated.

--

Aziraphale was nearly gasping, bent over the wheel, trying to hold everything together. He had to think of everything, the shape of the bus, the bodies inside, the air – humans needed air, this wouldn’t work if it all pooled at the back. The edges of his vision were already fading dark, and still the stars, Crowley’s stars, fell from their appointed places.

But there, ahead, the strange heat-haze glow of the M25, the demonic sigil surrounding London, sealing everyone in. “Ha,” he said, too tired to actually laugh. He could just make out beyond it – the fields still green, still lit by a sun he couldn’t see, the towers of the city rearing high. The rumors were true. The city was safe.

As he had seven years before, Aziraphale concentrated on the counter to the sigil Odegra, which would allow him to pass across the barrier unharmed.

Nothing happened.

“Who has the map?” His hand reached frantically towards the children behind him. “Someone! I need to see the map of London!”

Paper hit his hand, and he tore his eyes away from the road just long enough to look at the shape of the M25, the crooked ring looped around London.

It was a demonic sigil.

It was not Odegra.

It wasn’t anything he recognized.

Different Earth. Different Crowley.

“Oh…fuck,” Aziraphale said weakly, as the bus careened at full speed into the wall of light.

--

(Is that cliffhanger enough? Also, can you believe that I nearly went straight to London after “Miracle”? Look at EVERYTHING we would have missed! Quick shout out to @angel-and-serpent who suggested having the sigil NOT be Odegra. Surprise! I don’t think this was what you expected.)

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

WhatsApp?, Part 17. (Steve Rogers x reader)

Description: You’ve never been lucky with guys. You just wanted to catch someone’s eye, to be loved. One day, that’s about to turn completely - with one fake, completely imagined number a guy gave you.

A/N: We will be wrapping up soon, folks. Let's have two last chapters and were done!

Warnings: Reader being a paranoid silly dummydumdum and angst and angst and fluffiness. I have u guys, alright?

Word count: 3.1 K

Tagging: @missdictatorme, @songforhema, @mikariell95, @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

Read the rest here: Part One  Part Two  Part three  Part four  Part five  Part Six Part seven  Part eight  Part nine  Part ten  Part eleven  Part twelve  Part thirteen  Part fourteen  Part fifteen  Part sixteen

If you like to have your readings in order :):  H E R E  

Four months after the last chapter:

You sat on the toilette for what seemed like forever, in a complete shock, gasping for your dear breath. You felt as you were crying, sobbing, being a hot pile of mess. Pete was sitting next to your small cabin on the ground, hugging his knees, listening to your heartbreaking sobs.

You and Steve were together just for a few months, four and a half to be exact and you couldn't think of anything more perfect. When he was at home, he was literally the sweetest guy around.

He knew his way around with cooking and preparing just the best baths, nobody was able to make the bed like him. Every time he cleaned up the place, you couldn't recognize it. And you didn't know if he used some forties tricks when it was his turn doing the laundry, but it smelled so good every damn time he hung the clothes.

It was more than fair to say that Steve Rogers was living at your place basically. He moved his clothes there, so you could basically wear them as yours, he was buying the groceries and taking care of the flat.

Your relationship grew stronger and stronger, but with that, you needed to count on the paparazzi sniffing around your private life. They exposed you and Steve many times and you only giggled when you read the articles out loud to Steve when he was in the shower. Sometimes you were reading it with Peter when Steve was out of touch.

You were making fun of that, but Steve got fed up after a while. He was under the public microscope for a long time at that moment when your relationship started, so he talked with Tony (IT WAS TONY STARK HIMSELF, YOU LITERALLY FREAKED OUT WHEN STEVE SAID THAT IT'S JUST 'TONY') and Tony made some steps to keep the newest Avenger lovebirds out of the public eye.

Everything was awesome... Until that one evening.

How to put it right? Let's just say it how it was - you both absolutely loved sex, let's be honest here. Steve adored and loved your soul, but your body was just gorgeous for him. He was a boy from the eighties who didn't have a proper lovemaking session for seventy years, maybe even never.

So, naturally, when Steve got home after three weeks lasting mission, you took a day off at work, just to be with him at home all day, basically not leaving bed all day. That was maybe the day you just got... Pregnant.

Yep. That's right. A baby was inside growing inside of you and your heart was beating loudly at that moment. What the hell should you do? What were your options? Your brain couldn't exactly think when you were a crying mess sitting on the toilette.

Steve told you one time that the family man who lived in the forties died inside of him when he got out of the ice.

So you were worried that Steve will not take it too happily, even though you knew that you were seriously paranoid.

"Is everything ok out there? You're freaking me the hell out." - Pete knocked on your cab lightly, which actually reminded you of his presence. You weakly pulled yourself together, dried your cheeks and stood up. When you opened the cab, he almost jumped right into your face. - "You're not pregnant, right? That's why you're crying."

You didn't answer, just gave him the test and leaned your hands to the sink to watch your face in the mirror.

A mom. You'll be a mom. Was that even real? Were you even ready for that? You had a small bean inside of you. Your mind was splitting into two different people - one of them was optimistic and the second one was depressed like hell.

A strange warm feeling surrounded your heart and you smiled at yourself. Hormones were making you a bit crazy, like riding on a rollercoaster. The fear of telling him was sitting on the back of your head all the time, but for a moment you focused on happiness.

"You'll be a mom." - Peter whispered. He was in shock, but you could feel that happiness is written down in his voice. - "That's great! I will be his or her uncle and we will be best pals... Y/N, what's wrong?" - Peter asked worriedly and hugged you, nursing you slowly. His lips kissed your temple gently and his fingers smoothed your hair.

"I'm just so fucking afraid, Peter. What if he tells me that he doesn't want it anymore? He's at least a hundred years old. He doesn't have a much stable life, his job is dangerous and... I don't know." - You cried out to his shoulder and hugged him even tighter. You had a grip of a tiger or a bear that surprised Peter.

"Are you even listening to what you're saying, you weirdo?" - Peter took your face to his palms and smiled at you. A fifteen-year-old boy was nursing you because you were afraid of a baby. Your own baby. You were going to be a mom. You were acting like Ana in Fifty shades said, you had a little bean somewhere out there.

"Steve will be out of his mind when he's gonna find out. That man was designed by God to be a dad. Whether it will be a boy or a girl, you will be great parents. And May and I will be the best uncle and aunt duo." - He kissed your temple again, but someone interrupted you. It was Deena. She screamed, put her hand on her heart and closed the door with a loud bang. Then she opened the door again, looking at you, crying your eyes out and Peter, with his arms, circling around your shoulders. You both watched her, Peter with a big smile and you with your eyes hurting a bit.

"Okay, you two. I know you have a strangely friendly relationship, but this is fucking wild. What the fuck is going on?" - She just strode there, putting her hands on her hips, frowning at you and Pete. She had a primadonna attitude until Pete turned towards her with a pregnancy test in his palms.

"Oh my fucking God. You cheated on Steve with... Don't you fucking tell me." - She tried to tell a joke, but a small smile appeared on her lips. Her face was gentle all of a sudden as she watched the positive stick in her hands. You would never say that Deena could be a family type, but that situation totally wrecked her family-cold facade. She looked at you with a graceful smile, and ten hugged you. Then, she put her palm on your belly, slowly caressing you with his fingers.

"Hey, little baby. We know about you, honey. Oh my god, Y/N." - Deena looked into your face with a loving gaze. - "I think I'm gonna cry. Jesus fucking Christ, what have you done to me?" - She smiled and winked at you to get the tears away. - "Steve will be so happy. And Buck will probably cry. He's a sensitive pussy these days."

"But how the fuck am I supposed to tell him?" - You stared to the side, leaning your ass to the sink, watching both of them. - "I'm so afraid now."

"What are you thinking about, dummy?" - Deena looked at you with an ironic face, laughing. - "Just tell him. He's an honest man and he will most probably explode with euphoria. You know what? I have an idea." - Her palms held your shoulders, so she couldn't look away from her.

"You'll try it on Bucky, the whole telling thingy. Hell. He'll order you his fucking plum diet. Just be cool, you'll tell him, test it out. Buck will not tell Steve a single word if you ask him to. And now, get the fuck out. Both of you. I need to pee." - She smiled and kissed your cheek in a motherly mode. You could feel that she's so proud at that moment, so proud she couldn't even express it.

"Hey. Heads up. You'll do great. Wow. A baby. That's wonderful. In a few months, you'll be so big. Like, I mean, a big tummy, there will be a baby and I can chat with them." - Peter was so excited that it made you smile. Yeah. You'll be big. You'll be huge. Like a balloon. And you'll fart a lot. But that will be alright. Cause there will be a baby inside of you. - "You can't even guess how proud and happy I am."

"Yeah. Stop grinning so much, dummy. The whole office doesn't need to know that I'm pregnant the first day I found out that. So shush." - You shoved the little stick into the back pocket of your jeans and went there with a big smile.

Bucky was already in the office, leaning next to Val's shoulder and watched some video. Suzie watched you with her silent stare, feeling that something's off about you. But she just nodded and didn't ask. You loved that Suzie was the silent friend. She didn't ask unnecessary questions at all. But just as Suzie knew instantly that something happened, May could feel it in the air.

"Okay, you moron. Don't furrow at me like that and just tell me. What's wrong?" - May leaned her ass into your desk and looked at you with her motherly state. She had warm eyes and a kind smile, soothing the back of your head. But you just wiggled your head and decided on not telling her, not just now.

"You're like another child to me, baby. Just as protesting as Peter at the start of his puberty." - She leaned down and kissed your forehead. - "Remember that whatever happened, it's going to be good. When you feel like telling me, you'll. I larb you so, so much." - And then she left. You looked at Peter with a surprised face and he shrugged his shoulders. You were so glad that you may don't turn her NCIA attitude on just left it be. But then you saw Deena, looking like a little devil, leading Bucky to you. He looked really scared and surprised.

"Okay. She told me that you have something to tell me. And I'm not going to lie, I am a bit afraid what the hell is going on because she was deadly serious." - Buck said in a guessing tone. Deena frowned at him.

"Who the hell is some 'she', Mr. Burnes?" - She put her arms on her chest. Deena was just joking, but her face was deadly serious.

"She is my lovely girlfriend who is the best in the whole world, miss Green." - Bucky smiled, leaned onto her body, kissing her from her cheeks down to her collar bones, making her laugh. - "But let's talk, miss Y/L/N, soon to be Mrs. Rogers." - Bucky told you and take you away from the rest of your coworkers.

"That's not too far fetched." - You whispered back and Buck opened up his mouth with a surprise before turning his expression to a big smile.

"So that little jackass wants to marry you? I know that he's really in love with you, but this is a pleasant surprise." - He leaned into one of the windows, watching you nervously biting his lower lip.

"No! No! We're not having a wedding, Jesus. We're only for not even five months, Buck. You're crazy. I need to tell you something different." - You leaned next to him and put your head on Buck's shoulder.

"Okay. What's it, baby girl? You can tell me anything. I'm your and Steve's friend. I'm curious about what has happened." - Buck hugged your shoulder with his arms, bringing you closer to him. He was just the greatest friend, he made you feel safe and fooled to tell him almost everything. So you felt as you relaxed when the little, quiet sentence just got out of your lips.

"We're going to have a baby." - You whispered and looked at Buck with an innocent look.

"Doll, are you serious?" - He asked silently and his face leaned down to look at you.

"Yeah, my magical assistant Peter helped me to do three to four tests this morning. All of them were positive." - You smiled at Buck. His reaction nicely surprised you and made you feel sure about having a baby with Steve. Your emotions and hormones told you that it's going to be all right. Buck was a bit tougher Steve from what you could tell. And his reaction was like someone has lit up a fire inside of him, his smile felt warmer and lighter, his eyes shined with excitement. - "But I'm a bit worried about Steve's reaction. Like... He told he ain't that family man anymore. So..."

"Okay. So I'm an experiment. You think he's going to freak out, or that he'll be rude or he's going to pack his things and leave?" - Buck asked you honestly, he exhaled out loud, ending it with a giggle in the end. - "My pal would never. He'll be out of his mind, I swear in the name of God. It will make him love you even more. Hey. Let me tell the thing like this: every man, especially the two of us, want to have some small princess or a tough small pirate. It's a dream we think we can't reach. But you're the example of fulfilling that dream."

"What dream are you two talking about? Can I join the discussion?" - Steve's voice freaked the living hell out of you. Bucky felt how your body began to tremble, so he smoothed your back calmly. Steve took you to his arms and hugged you, kissing you tenderly on your lips, making you smile. - "You've been crying, sweetheart. Something's wrong?" He held you in his hug and you hugged him even tighter. Steve could sense that something's up, he could tell every time you cried or felt down. It was just like his sixth sense.

"I brought you some tea for your sickness, I heard that it helps a lot. Also, I have some food from the restaurant you like, some tomato soup and some lasagna." - He showed you a travel teacup and a bag in his hand, smiling excitedly. - "You told me that you will not have enough time today, so I took you something good to eat, doll. I will not let my girl starve, will I?" - Steve played with your hair and kissed the back of your head. Bucky disappeared in the meantime, leaving you two in a loving bliss moment.

"What would I do without my big guy, right?" - You tiptoed and kissed his lips. But then sickness took hold on your belly as you began to realize that you should tell him before you'll lose your courage completely. He wasn't blind, so he could do the math when the time came, seeing your growing belly and tired attitude. - "We, like you and me, have to talk. Right now and right here otherwise I would not tell you." - You left his side and left the bag on the floor under the window.

"Doll. Before you'll tell me anything else, just let me tell you that I love you and if you want to leave me..." - Steve played with your fingers and he looked like he's about to cry. You immediately took his face to your palm, shushing him with a passionate kiss.

"Shut up for a minute, you dummy. This is stressing me the hell out and I really want you to know." - You smoothed his wide shoulders with your nails and you still held him close. - "Especially when you and I need to go through all of this together."

"Is something wrong? Are you sick? What happened?" - Steve was smoothing your face with his thumbs gently and lovingly and his face was really looking like a lovesick puppy. Before he could guess any other option, you burst out.

"I'm pregnant. I'm... Pregnant." - You said twice, slowly and more scared for the second time. You couldn't even believe what you were telling him. Your face was pale and scared, you looked tired and sick. Steve just froze in one place, his mouth shut and his gaze was piercing through you, his arms around your shoulder.

"And are you... Sure? Like deadly sure? Seriously?" - Steve asked in a low, emotionless voice. You trembled in his arms, beginning to cry and your lower lip curled. You slowly nodded and first tear left your eye, falling down on your face.

"So... A baby. Wow." - Steve said with his expression slowly lighting up. - "We are going to have a baby." - All of a sudden, why you still cried, he was crying too with a sweet smile on his lips. He took you, carefully, at your waist, hugged you and carefully twirled you around. - "Y/N, I'm doing to be a dad." - He exclaimed with the happiness of a little boy.

"So you're not angry with me?" - You beeped quietly and looked at your boyfriend crying and you started to cry even more after that. You both stood there and cried like little children, hugging each other.

"Are you serious? Y/N, this is most probably the best day of my whole life." - Steve dropped on his knees, put his palms on your tummy and kissed it with a loving expression. Your fingers ran through his hair as he spoke directly to the baby. The tone of his voice was sweet and loving, he was mumbling and he held your waist in his hands.

How could you be so terrified? Why were you so paranoid? Steve took it the best way he actually could, he really was out of his mind completely, shining like a star. You loved to see him like that. A proud daddy-to-be. You could feel that he's happy, happier than ever before.

"Isn't it a bit too soon for you?" - You whispered after a long, sweet make our session. Steve was passionate and he was showing you all the love he had inside.

"It could happen a bit later, that's true. I'm amazed and surprised because this is a serious miracle. But I know you, you're my best girl, my loving and supporting girlfriend no matter what I decide to do. So we have two things on our list now, what do you say?" - He hummed in a pleased tone, being all-loving and caring for you.

"Two things?" - You opened your mouth, being surprised.

"First things first, we will prepare our home for this little angel." - He whispered and stole another kiss from you. - "But we can't bring him to a world where their parents aren't married. And I'm serious about that."

[tsfanart]

The Last Week--Chapter 6

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

--

At 5:30 on Friday evening, Logan got into his car, drove across the street, and pulled over. He froze. It felt weird to not get out of his car and ring the doorbell...but Logan didn't feel like wasting his time anymore, either. So, with a wince, he lifted his hand and honked the horn.

Virgil came out a few minutes later and got in the passenger side. "Hey!" he greeted. "How was your day?"

"It was fine, and yours?" Logan asked, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Pretty normal on my end," Virgil said, but then he trailed off.

The car ride was quiet the rest of the way, but when they reached the restaurant, Logan softened a little. They parked the car and made their way inside.

"Oh, hey there, guys!" the host greeted them. "Funny seeing you both here so late in the year!"

Virgil shrugged. "Yeah, well, here we are. Reservation for two?"

The host found the reservation and led the boys to their table, and Logan smiled a little more. Virgil couldn't have come up with the idea at the last minute if they had a reservation.

They sat at the table and ordered their usuals, and then Virgil perked up. "Oh hey, guess what I brought!" he singsonged. He reached into his pocket and pulled out two pens and a pad of sticky notes.

Logan grinned in spite of himself and reached for a sticky note. He took one of the pens and scanned the room, looking for things to write down. It was a game they always played when they went to Baire's Lair--a combination of I Spy and 20 Questions. They each had to write down three things that they saw around them, and then they would trade piles. Then Logan would put one of the things that Virgil saw to stick on the latter's forehead, and vice versa.

"Alright, you ready?" Virgil asked after a few minutes. Logan looked up and nodded.

"Okay then...time to trade!" Virgil announced. The two exchanged piles of sticky notes and looked them over.

Logan stared down at the notes in front of him. One of them was a green jacket that a man the next table over was wearing; another was the salt shaker that was right in front of them; and the last one was...a Miami State hat that someone on their other side was wearing.

His heart sank at that last one, but he selected it anyway. It was all that mattered at that point, after all.

Logan looked up and nodded, and he and Virgil both leaned across the table to put their respective sticky notes on each other. They sat back.

"Alright, so, you ready?" Virgil asked. Logan gave a thumbs up, so Virgil leaned forward and stroked his chin.

"Hm..." Virgil began, "am I all one color?"

Logan shook his head. "Nope. Mostly one, though. Uh...am I green?"

"No, you are not!"

The game continued as normal for the next few minutes, interrupted only by the arrival of their food. Virgil guessed his pretty easily, but it was a while before it became clear to Logan what was going on.

"Wait..." Logan said, "am I the Harvard sweatshirt that's on the coat rack over there?"

Virgil nodded cheerfully. "Yup! You've got it!"

"Huh. I guess we were kind of on the same page then, huh?" Logan choked out.

Virgil shrugged. "Eh, makes enough sense. It's only a few days off, right?"

Virgil's nonchalant behavior was starting to disturb Logan again. "Yeah...that it is. But hey, no sense in worrying about that, right?" He ripped off the sticky note and crumpled it. "We've still got a little over a day left, after all."

"Yeah, for sure," Virgil said, and Logan looked up, surprised to realize that the other's voice had cracked.

Logan glanced down at his plate and looked back up at his soon-to-be ex shyly. "Hey, um, do you want to maybe get a check or something? And then after that we could..."

"Go to the park?" Virgil finished. Logan nodded tearfully, and Virgil gave a half smile. After paying for their food, the two left to walk to the public park just a few blocks away from the restaurant. They found a patch of grass, moved a foot or so away from each other, and laid down for a while to stargaze and think.

After around half an hour had passed, Virgil got up to lay down next to Logan. Logan turned to look at him.

"I'm glad you're gonna be able to do such great things next year," Virgil said shakily. "Really, I am. And you should be proud of yourself for it."

Logan looked down and picked at the grass below him. He shrugged. "I know, I am. It's just...I'm gonna miss you."

"You are?" Virgil asked in disbelief.

Logan sat up and tilted his head. "Well, yeah, of course. Nobody at Harvard knows what I need when I get anxious at the store. No one there knows how to play our sticky note game. No one else has had an epic pillow fight with me or endured Mr. Spinner's wrath firsthand. And no one has seen me at my worst and decided to stick around anyway.

"And I know everyone says that I'll make new friends and stuff, but...I don't care, okay? It doesn't matter. They're all the same. Just faceless, pretentious blobs." He laid back down again. "But look, I'm happy for you too. I'm glad you're so excited about all this...at least one of us is, anyway."

Virgil's heart sank with guilt. "Logan, I...I owe you an apology for what went down yesterday. I thought I could trick myself into being happy and not caring. Because you're right, everyone around us is saying that."

"Well..." Logan began thoughtfully, "screw what everyone else says. Maybe they don't have the right idea. And maybe...maybe we had the wrong idea here in trying to live in the present this whole time."

"Yeah..." Virgil said. His lip started trembling. "But...we're okay though?"

"I think so, yeah," Logan replied. He outstretched his arms, and Virgil leaned in for a real hug this time.

Eventually, Logan pulled back. "Well, hey, there's still one thing left to do!" he pointed out. He stood up and extended his hand, and Virgil took it.

"That there is," he said with a smile. "So...your room, or mine?"

"Probably yours," Logan said. "We'll head back home and meet up in a few minutes?"

Virgil nodded. "Sounds like a plan," he said. The two walked arm in arm back to Logan's car, and had one last silent car ride home.

--

Shortly after getting home, Logan knocked on the Donovans' door for the last time, hiding his gift behind his back. Virgil opened the door.

"Hey...come on in," he said shyly.

Logan ducked his head and followed Virgil upstairs, but when they got to the door, Virgil paused. "Wait, one second..." He ran inside and got his own gift, and then opened the door again hiding it behind his own back. He nodded, and Logan came inside.

They sat down on the bed. "So...we'll share them on the count of three?" Virgil asked shakily.

Logan nodded, and they counted down. And then, as if they were hot potatoes, the boys both threw their gifts in the other's lap and glanced at one another sheepishly.

Logan looked down at his lap. As he had figured, Virgil had made him a multicolored scarf. He smiled and picked it up. "Oh, wow. This is really great. Thank you!" he said genuinely.

"Yeah, it's..." Virgil began. Then he turned red and chewed on his nail again.

Logan tilted his head. "It's what?"

Virgil looked straight ahead and started swinging his feet. "Well, the colors aren't exactly random. I mean, the colors themselves don't mean anything, but their order does."

"Oh yeah? And what meaning would that be?"

Virgil took a deep breath. "Well, I was thinking about how your messages for the week were in Morse Code, among other things, of course, and I wondered if I could do something with that for your gift, and I thought, what if each color represented a different thing? So the pairs of blue rows stand for dots and the pairs of purple rows stand for dashes. And the single black rows stand for letter breaks and the single gold rows stand for word breaks."

Logan smiled in awe, and examined the scarf closely. Virgil turned to look at him. "It's upside down," he clarified.

"Oh! Okay." Logan turned the scarf around and continued inspecting it. Finally he laid it in his lap and let out a high-pitched sound. "Logan and Virgil," he choked out.

Virgil nodded, and Logan leaned over to hug him again. "Thank you so much."

Virgil smiled. "You are so welcome. But hey, now it's your turn!" He picked up his gift, which looked like some sort of atom model made with the wires and styrofoam. "What exactly is this, anyway?"

"Oh, right, of course!" Logan lit up. "That's a Cesium atom. It measures seconds in an atomic clock. Did you know that one electron in the outer shell of a Cesium atom vibrates over nine billion times every second?"

Virgil raised his eyebrows. "Wow, really?"

"Yup!" Logan nodded. "That's the technical definition of a second, actually. Anyway, there are over 250 million seconds in eight years, and I multiplied those numbers together to get...two quintillion, three hundred nineteen quadrillion, one hundred ninety trillion, six hundred eighty-three billion, nine hundred eighty-nine million, seven hundred sixty thousand vibrations all together during the time that we've known each other. And that's the number that's written on the nucleus. Oh yeah, also I used rainbow beads for the electrons because, well, that's self-explanatory." He trailed off and looked away, but Virgil brought his face back around and kissed him on the nose.

"This is, without a doubt, the Logan-est gift I've ever seen in my life. And I mean that in the best way possible."

Logan broke out into a grin and sighed in relief. "Thanks, Virgil...for everything."

Virgil nodded again and shoved both of the gifts aside, and pulled Logan into the tightest hug he could muster. Logan reciprocated the hug and held onto his boyfriend for dear life, and they stayed that way the whole rest of the evening until they fell asleep.

[writerofculture-blog]

Chapter 14-End

2017

“Deaky, are you home dear?” Brian called out as he entered the front door singing to himself.

“Yeah, in the study.”

Brian waltzed across the living room to find John and grabbed him in for a snog as soon as he saw the younger man.

“What’s up Brian? Why are you so happy?” John was startled by the extravagant greeting, understandably so.

“It’s our movie Deaky. They have finally announced all the cast and the day to start shooting, officially. It’s finally happening.” Brian exclaimed, beaming with excitement.

Bohemian Rhapsody, a biopic of Queen as a band, was a project Brian started working on seven years ago. The project ran into so many issues through the years, scripts being changed, people being fired, that John thought it might never happen. He didn’t know if he liked the idea to begin with, but Brian had a point. If they didn’t do it, then someone else will. It’s better for them to be involved in the production.

“That’s definitely something worth celebrating.” John nodded.

“Wait until I show you the pictures of the cast Deaky.” Brian jumped onto the couch and turned on his laptop.

“Watch it Brian. You are 71, not 17.” John scolded. Brian was so excited he’s like a little boy.

John sat down beside Brian and glanced over at the screen while Brian was pulling up the pictures of the cast of Bohemian Rhapsody in their costumes.

“This is Gwilym Lee. He’s going to play me.” Brian started with himself. John could definitely see the resemblance of the Welsh actor to younger Brian. Tall, lean, with rather square chin and intelligent hazel eyes, the Brian he fell in love with before he knew what love was.

“This is Ben Hardy. He will be Roger.” John snickered as soon as he saw Ben’s picture. Of course, Roger would find the blondest and prettiest boy in England to play himself. That silly self-centered twat.

“What about me?” John asked curiously.

“Hold on.” Brian pulled up the picture of a long-haired brunette, “this is Joe Mazzello. He will be you Deaky.”

“Holy shit, he really does look like me.” John inhaled sharply.

“Yeah he does Deaky. I actually think your character bares the most resemblance. You didn’t happen to fuck some American bird in the eighties and forgot about it did you?” Brian snorted.

“Fuck off Brian.” John punched Brian’s arm, “wait, did you say he’s American? You got a bloody American to play me? Can he even do my accent?”

“Come on Deaky. He looks more like you than any of your sons do and he’s a good actor. Of course, he can do your accent. Besides, Freddie is played by an American actor too.”

“Are you bloody serious? Freddie will have a break down if he knew he’s being portrayed by an American.” John exclaimed.

“Here, take a look. This is Rami Malek.” Brian pulled up a picture of Rami in full costume, with Freddie’s black long hair and teeth.

“Wow.” John felt his heart skip a beat as for a split second he could not tell the difference between the picture of Rami and Freddie. “Brian, I think Freddie will like this.”

Brian put an arm around John, “we have to make sure he likes it Deaky. We owe it to him.”

John leaned on Brian’s shoulder and asked, “when does the shooting start?”

“In three weeks. We will go together, okay?” Brian rubbed the younger man’s arm.

The first time John went on to the set of Bohemian Rhapsody, he definitely had a déjà vu. The stadium in front of him was the exact replica of the Wembley in 1985 Live Aid concert where their performance was voted the best live performance of all time. It was during a difficult time for the band. Their previous 2 albums Hot Space and The Works were a disappointment on the radio and in sales. Brian, Roger and Freddie were all working on solo projects. John even thought maybe this was it for Queen, maybe they had past their prime.

Then Live Aid happened. The support from the audience was a great boost in energy for all of them. Riding on the excitement, they went back to the studio to record another album and planned another tour. Little did they know at the time that would be their last tour.

Was Freddie already infected with the deadly virus back when Live Aid happened? Probably. John thought. Would Freddie have given the same magnificent performance if he knew? Probably. Freddie was born to be a performer.

“It’s uncanny, isn’t it?” Brian’s voice brought John back to reality. He took out his cell phone to start taking picture of the set.

“Definitely.” John murmured.

John followed Brian and the crew to the trailers set up for the actors. When one of the crew knocked on the door of Joe Mazzello’s trailer, a smallish young man with John’s ridiculous perm in the 80s opened the door. John stared at Joe for a moment, unable to speak. Brian was right, Joe does bare more similarities to his looks compared to any of his sons.

John held out his hand to the American actor, “I’m John, John Deacon. How do you do?”

Joe earnestly shook his hand, “Hi, I’m Joe. It is really an honor to meet you Mr. Deacon. I am a huge fan.”

2018

“Brian, are you ready? Roger is outside with the limo.” John called as he went upstairs trying to find the older man.

“Coming Deaky.” Brian called as he came down the stairs, “how do I look Deaky?”

Even after so many years, the sight of Brian all dressed up in a black coat with maroon fringes on top a black shirt, tall and handsome still took John’s breath away.

“You look handsome as always dear.” John smiled.

“You look magnificent yourself Deaky.” Brian grabbed John’s hand, “let’s go. We are going to enjoy this tonight.”

The premier ceremony of Bohemian Rhapsody hosted right by Wembley stadium was a great turn out. John figured he should be used to crowds, being on stage at so many concerts and still touring at his late sixties. But the thought of so many people watching the movie together with him for the first time still made him unbelievably nervous.

Even back in his younger days, John hated interviews because he never knew what to say. The way reporters haunted Freddie during his last days on Earth made John hate the British press with all his gut. He swore he would never talk to any of them again. Nowadays he refused to go on any interviews or talk shows. He was reluctant to come to the premier night because he knew he can’t avoid talking to reporters. But once again, Brian and Roger always had a way of convincing him.

“Mr. John Deacon! I’m so excited to see you here!” Bollocks. John swore under his breathe. The MC was walking straight toward him. It’s impossible to hide.

John forced a smile on his face.

“How do feel tonight at the world premiere of the movie Bohemian Rhapsody?”

“I’m definitely excited. It had been a long way for the movie to be at this stage. The cast and crew had done a wonderful job. I think people will really enjoy it.”

“There are hundreds of thousands Queen fans watching tonight around the world. I’m sure they would love to hear a word from you. Do you have a message for them?”

“Thank you very much.” Was all John could mutter. Good thing Roger just walked by and grabbed the MC’s attention.

Brian found John just before the viewing of the movie began and whispered to him, “that wasn’t so bad, was it Deaky?”

“Easy for you to say.” John wiped sweat from his forehead despite the chill of the autumn evening.

The movie began. John had seen it many times before but seeing it on the big screen with thousands of others was definitely another experience. 4 of them in their twenties, young and carefree, with nothing in their pockets but a big dream. Their voices, their songs, their laughter. Memories from almost half a century ago flooded John’s mind. He naturally grabbed for Brian’s hand.

Life was no bed of roses. John knew he had made many mistakes. Maybe he should have never picked up a bass guitar. Maybe he should have never joined Queen. Maybe he should have never married Veronica. Maybe he should have never left her.

Sometimes John felt he watched his whole life passing by in front of him, as if it was all a dream. But as long as he was able to hold the hand he was holding now, he felt real; he felt safe.

Just as the words that Freddie sang filled the stadium.

I've paid my dues Time after time I've done my sentence But committed no crime And bad mistakes  I've made a few I've had my share of sand kicked in my face But I've come through

We are the champions, my friends And we'll keep on fighting 'til the end We are the champions We are the champions No time for losers 'Cause we are the champions of the world

  As the credits of the movie were rolling out, Brian squeezed John’s hand. “I think we did Freddie proud, Deaky.”

“I think so too.” John beamed.

“Freddie, I think I know what I am going to do.” John sighed.

“That’s wonderful dear.” Freddie pulled John into a tight embrace. “Life does not go on forever.”

John nodded. “I wish you were still with us Freddie. I wish I could see you again.”

“You can see me whenever you need Deaky. You only see what you want to see.” The singer gave John a toothy laugh and disappeared.

The noise from Wembley stadium became fainter. John started to feel the coldness and wetness of the freezing rain, the hardness of the concrete and the pain from the curb hitting his head.

“Mate, you’ve got to wake up. You will freeze to death here.”

John opened his eyes to a stranger violently shaking his shoulders. The rain seemed to have stopped, leaving only the chill and quiet of the winter night.

“Finally, you are awake.” The stranger let out a sigh of relief. “How are you feeling? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

John shook his head and stumbled up. He mumbled ‘thanks’ to the stranger. John before hailing a taxi and as soon as he got in, told the driver Brian’s address.

The END

[peanutsoulofavengers-blog]

Solar Sytem. (Peter Quill x Mother!Reader + Peter Quill and Reader’s daughter)

A/N: Well… I was in my bed yesterday and thinking about that one-shot that I’ve posted about Peter Quill’s girlfriend being pregnant and I couldn’t help but smiled when I thought about something really cute. So this is pure fluff with Dad!Peter and his daughter. I originally planned to write it yesterday before falling asleep, but I was so tired that I wouldn’t! But here it is.

Summary: You have caught Peter Quill, your boyfriend, explaining what the solar system to your tired daughter is, and talking about stuff with her. You didn’t say a word and listened him too.

Warning: None. Excepting that it can have English grammar errors. I apologize. Use Stevie Wonder’s song lyrics “Isn’t she lovely”.

 Request / Ask Something | Masterlist.

                                                   Isn’t she lovely?

 You walked to your daughter’s bed and contained yourself of walking more, when you saw Peter with her, lying down just next to her. You were standing here: hidden in the dark. The Ship has been upgraded since her birth and you couldn’t help but smile when you saw the arm of Star Lord surrounding your daughter little figure, making her close to her dad. You were both in the Solar system and just in front of the seven planets. Including your original one: Earth. The little one, blue, green and white by the clouds surrounding the cyan sky that every human loved dearly. But you didn’t mind. Your family was clearly more important than where you were from.

- And here… It’s Saturn.

- Wow… She haves a lot of rings…

- Yes. Hundreds of thousands of rings. When I was in school, I thought she has been married many times.

- My favourite one is Venus…

- Oh?

- Yes, mama told me that she was the prettiest planet of the solar system and that her name was from a goddess.

 You smiled. It was true. Yes, she couldn’t be at school, but it doesn’t mean that you and Peter weren’t able to teach her things. For nothing in this world, he would miss bragging about Earth, the Missouri and the music from the eighty. But you couldn’t blame him anyway, it was the only thing which kept him connected to his mother, and human kind. He caressed her hairs, gently, softly while she was in total admiration in front of such beautiful planets and stars. You were truly trusting Rocket in his way to drive the ship anyway, you weren’t scared at all. In plus that it was something that you knew since you were a child, nothing surprising for you.

 - Dad…?

- Yes, little star?

- Why don’t we go to Earth? That’s we are from. Me, mom and you…

 You heard Peter chuckled about the question, it was so innocent. She was so innocent and scared about asking it, he wasn’t going to be mad for something so little important. He kissed her head and just after, two or three kisses on her forehead. Making her close her eyes and getting sleepy by the tenderness of her father. Himself got sleepy minute after minute. He continued in his explains.

 - Earth is a dangerous place little star, more than any planets that we already visited with you trust me. It’s not aliens the problem but the humans themselves, they’re dangerous for you, as us. They’re easily scared of things superior to them and they usually reject it. Me and your mother don’t want anything bad happen to you, we couldn’t get over it. You are everything we have. I couldn’t let anyone possibly dangerous touching at least one hair of your little head or even hurting you physically. No one.

 She looked at her father, curious but she has contained herself to say something she shouldn’t say. After all, Peter was just worried about her health and it was already difficult to keep her safe from any kind of aliens, it was just suicidal to be on Earth. She approached herself against her father chest, only covered with a shirt and stayed here, placing her little hands on his pectorals, her head against it too. Star lord smiled and kissed her once more, hugging her tight, covering her with the blanket instead of him.

 - Why does humans have that big grey star by night and not us?

- It’s not a star baby… It’s the moon. She shows up when night comes. Night, it’s when humans must go to bed. For us, it’s always night. For them, Earth is in a constant rotation and the huge red, orange and yellow star is the sun. That’s what make humans living and telling them that they must work, eat, cleaned up…

- Then… They need assistance in everything?

 You have contained your chuckles. Compared to Peter who wasn’t ashamed of laughing. Not at all.

 - Somewhat yes. But not every time.

- And you dad… You needed assistance when you were on Earth?

- Yes. As you need to. Every human need assistance, but that’s how we learn things, and we don’t need assistance later because we learnt about how to do it. When humans have kids, they give what they have in the bottom of their hearts for raising them correctly and making them be good people later.

- And… You sure that I am a good person?

 Peter closed his eyes, smelling his scent.

 - Yes love… More than anyone on this ship.

- Even Auntie Mantis…?

- Oh well… Ask to her when you’ll be awake!

 You heard both of your loves yawning loudly. It was totally them. Yawing at each occasion they can, Peter loved being asleep as your daughter loved it too. And you could admit that you were also a lover of the sleep concept. You replaced a part of your hair behind one of your ears and closed your eyes too. You wanted to sleep with them, placing your head on Peter’s torso and falling asleep while you could hear his deep calm breaths. But you could bother them, and you didn’t want it.

 - And this one? She asked, pointing her little finger to Jupiter.

- She’s called, Jupiter. She’s one of the biggest planets of the solar system. If we placed Jupiter in front of Earth, we couldn’t even live on Earth because Jupiter’s weather is very unstable and dangerous. I’ve always found her scary.

- But being big doesn’t mean that you’re bad…

- No, it’s not little star. You right. But like I said: people usually get scared of what they can’t understand.

- Yea yea… She whispered before yawning slowly.

 Peter laughed quietly, kissing her forehead once more. He was so happy to be a dad and for nothing else, he would be giving up you both. You knew it. Your daughter tried to cover him a little bit with the blanket but her little hands weren’t big enough for being effective. He replaced the blanket at her initial place.

 - You can get a cold dad…

- And? I prefer having a cold than you…

- Dad?

- Yes, little star?

- Who is my grandma and my grandpa?

 You closed your eyes. Attempting to not see the sadness winning Peter’s eyes. But at your surprise, he took an enjoyed voice. Really. It was something strange, considering how much his mother and his adoptive father touched him from the bottom of his heart. You were even prepared to walk in and stop your daughter in this attempt to talk about family.

 - Your grandma… Her first name is Meredith-…

- Hey, it’s my middle name!

- Yes, it is love… She was the awesomest woman walking on Earth. The best mom that I could ever dreamed of. Unfortunately, your grandma was sick, and she lives now in a place where humans and us are unable to reach. That’s why you never see her. But I’m sure that she sees us, she’s watching on you every second of your life and she loves you as if she could talk to you. Maybe that someday, we’ll be with her. Who knows?

- Oh… I love her.

- And she loves you.

 You heard Peter’s voice broke words after words.

 - And your grandpa… He wasn’t my biological dad, he was man with blue skin, he adopted me when I was a kid. I loved him as he was my father and he’s surely with your grandma now. He was the leader of a group and was the strongest person I know so far. He saved me when I… You understood that he was hesitating to explain what death is. Well, if he hasn’t been here when I needed him, you wouldn’t be with me currently.

- Oh… What was his first name?

- Yondu.

 She took a surprised expression.

 - It’s weird.

- Yes, but it suited him so well. None of any first name would suited him better than his.

 When she saw that Peter was now crying, she felt so sad. Your daughter hugged him tightly, apologizing for asking these questions and making her dad being sad. Peter opened his eyes and smiled in front of the expression of guilty that his lovely little star took. He could swear that he heard her heart being broken by hearing her father’s sobbing.

 - Little star… For nothing in this world, I would be angry against you. You don’t have to be ashamed for just wishing to know the identities of such amazing people. But it’s time to sleep now, next time if it’s not your mommy, I’ll tell you another stories in space.

 She closed her eyes, obeying to what her father said, Peter closed his eyes once more before falling asleep even without feeling it. You approached slowly once they were in a deep sleep and took one more blanket for covering the body of you beloved man. You kissed his cheeks and the head of your progeniture before walking out the room, closing the door.

 Isn’t she lovely made of love.