#(anyway thank god I got one good parent and I got far enough away from the other to be able to actually get to know him.)

[cesium-sheep]

apparently when he was given baseball tickets for whichever gift holiday (I think it was for his birthday from his mom) he was given two tickets. which, if it's from his mom, like. I know that game girl. I see that. but it's not my circus so like whatever, I still get to see baseball and I don't have to be more than distantly polite to you either.

[sanjisboyfie]

eren first meeting his roommate

aka ; eren yeager having a gay awakening <3

-> might be a series? idk i love roommate eren a lot so probably will be a series LMFAO also also there's really no obvious romance here, it's just silent admiration and crushes

also eren is very much puppy-like and high energy in this one hashtag sorry if u love emo eren, he will NOT be emo here!!! hashtag no regrets.

eren yeager x male reader

— eren was dead broke. his ass definitely did not have enough money for either dorming on campus or off campus, but off campus was the cheaper option. and since he went to a college so far away from home, it would be too big of a hassle to commute. so him and his parents compromised by giving him an "allowance" every month, which would basically pay for a third of rent. but that meant he had to use his own money to pay the next third, then find someone else to pay the final third. ( 1/3 being paid by his parents, 1/3 being paid by him, 1/3 being paid by a lifesavior roommate, aka you!!!!!)

— it was very odd to see eren, who on first impressions seemed like an intimidating individual, sit you down at the empty kitchen table and beg you, literally beg you with his hands in praying form, to room with him. he was very, very obviously desperate to find someone else to live with.

"please, i will be good - i've heard from all my friends i'm a great person to live with, my mouth will vouch (he is a terrible person to live with, but if he has to do more household chores in order to get a roommate he will). i will let you speak to my own mother and father, they will vouch and say-"

"i believe you, eren, why are you crying?"

"PLEASE LIVE WITH ME!!!"

that's an exaggeration of what happened...he didn't actually start crying, but his begging was insistent and borderline pathetic.

— in the end, you agreed !!! paying 1/3 of rent was better than paying 1/2 + the place wasn't in a terrible location, it was close to school, and was a pretty good size for two bedrooms. since eren was already settled in, he helped you move in. and that was when you were given a free GUN SHOW because damn was this man working hard in lifting your many boxes of belongings. it was almost like he wore a tight shirt on purpose, just to show off. he very adamanently told you that you didn't need to hire movers and he'd do all the heavy lifting, along with muttering about how they were "scammers" with how much they charged.

"eren, i can lift some of these-"

"no, please, consider this my thanks for moving in with me," eren grunted, holding a huge box of your clothes with relative ease. he was sweating, but that was because this was probably the third box of heavy stuff he had to carry from the car to the building.

he was wearing a beige shirt that hugged his muscular form, emphasizing every single ripple underneath the fabric. and as you two stood in the elevator (thank god the building had an elevator or else eren would have had to carry all the boxes up three flights of stairs), the only sound in the metallic box was eren's heavy breathing.

his muscular chest (boobs) were moving up and down as he tried catching his breath, his hands lifting to wipe the sweat off of his forehead with the collar of his shirt.

your eyes watched each of his movements carefully before you snapped out of it with the dinging of the elevator to tell you you were on your floor. you got out of elevator first, holding your arm to the door to prevent it from closing on him.

he shot you a smile in thanks before proceeding to easily lift up the box (it was at least over 50 pounds, mind you) and walk ahead to the room.

what you didn't know was that eren's cheeks were burning red as he had felt your stare on him earlier and it made him feel shy. you didn't have to know that he was purposely flexing harder with each cardboard box he had to lift. it was his own subtly way of trying to impress you, anyway.

it was flustering to know that it was somewhat working.

— after all the boxes were situated inside of the small apartment, he went to put all of your utilities away, like your own set of utensils, plates that you bought to share, and a couple of mugs. meanwhile, you went to your room to personalize and unpack all of your clothing. as eren was occupied working in the kitche, he felt himself smiling to himself as he carefull put away any of your belongings in the shelves. he felt himself laughing at one of your comedic mugs, a ceramic figure that took the shape of a chubby cat. the tail of the animal curved into being the handle and a funny expression was painted onto the cat's face.

"what's so funny, yeager?" you challenged, stretching your hands above head, "you think my mugs are funny?"

eren laughed, putting it away intot he cupboard and turning to look at you, "i think they're cute, they're also fitting,"

you made a face of uncertainty, which only made eren's grin go wider, "alright, you'll see."

"i'll see what?"

"you'll see — when i get you your own mug, you'll learn to appreciate it more,"

"oh, god, please don't." eren said, leaning against the counter on his elbow and staring at you, who were sitting on the other side, "for your first night here, you want me to treat us to take out? the chinese place down the road is really good,"

he watched your expression carefully. wordlessly, you walked around the counter and to the fridge. once you opened it, it took you a total of three seconds before you looked back at eren with a grimace.

"the only thing in here is ketchup and mayo..."

"those are the condiments i use to eat my fast food with," eren shrugged, making you only become more flabbergasted. "what??"

"oh my god, let's finish unpacking later, we need to go buy groceries,"

"but you didn't answer my question on dinner?"

"i'll make dinner — you save more money buying groceries and making meals out of them instead of buying takeout everynight, eren," you lectured, making him tilt his head in thought. he supposed you were right, so he didn't argue against going grocery shopping.

as you announced you were just going to change quickly, he then thought about it for a second longer. then a blush fell on his face as he imagined you at the kitchen, cooking a meal for just him and you.

god, was he really developing a crush on his roommate that just moved in?

— the grocery shopping turned unserious very fast. bring eren to any public environment and he won't be able to stay on track for a second. you didn't really know eren that well (it sounds silly to say that considering you are now living with him, but prior to agreeing to be his roommate, he really was just a stranger to you), so to see his more childish side bleeding through his cold exterior was a good change of pace. he was a very goofy guy, making funny faces at babies with the intent of making them cry, and would easily get distracted. he had tried dragging you off to the pokemon card wall several times when all you needed were groceries.

"did you see the way its face scrunched up?" he grinned in excitement before focusing on mimicking the expression a baby he tormented made. you laughed at the face he was making before smacking his shoulders.

"be nicer! they're just babies, eren," you softly scolded, weak chuckles escaping from you.

"just babies that make funny faces," eren laughed, switching from standing at your left side to your right side repeatedly as you stood in front of the produce section, "what even are you going to make tonight?"

"hm, how about pasta? you like pasta?" eren nodded his head in affirmation, "i was just going to buy some staple fruits and vegetables too, though, in case we get hungry for snacks,"

"snacks? i can run to the chips section too then! what chips do you want?" eren said, very excited to go to his second favorite section of the store (the junk food aisles).

"just get me a bag of f/c," you requested politely, making him nod like an eager puppy and run off.

you finished going down the list of basic ingrediants for a white sauce pasta, while also grabbing anything that you could use for other dishes in the future.

just as you turned around to your now full cart of vegetables, sauces, fruits, and meat, eren came bounding back towards you. this time, he was now holding five bags of chips, in his mouth he was carrying a single packet of pokemon cards, and in his fingers he was desperately holding a lottery ticket.

"look! we can open up a pack of pokemon cards, i got you one too, it's in my pocket though, since i figured you wouldn't want my spit on it, and then i also have a lottery ticket. i have a feeling we will win it big! and if we do, we won't have to pay rent for like five months!"

"eren, what the fuck? i thought you were just getting chips,"

the accused man pouted at the tone you were taking with him, dropping his arms into the car to free them of the five bags of chips, "i was!! but look, i'll pay for the lottery ticket, chips, and pokemon cards! c'mon, it'll be fun to open the cards together and everything!"

he almost pouted at you, can you belive this guy? pouted at you with begging puppy dog eyes. you almost smooshed his face with the palm of your head, but restrained yourself.

"fine, let's just go and pay,"

eren grinned in achievement, pumping his fist into the air, "c'mon, i wanna open these on the ride home!" he said, referring to the pokemon cards.

"alright, alright, i don't know anything about them though, so you're just gonna have to tell me what's good or not,"

"if it's shiny and reflective, give it to me, that's all you need to know," eren said dismissively. he swiftly took your spot behind the cart, pushing it with ease and only allowing you to walk beside him. "what pasta are you cooking for tonight?"

"i bought alfredo sauce, so i'll just add in some vegetables and to the pasta and make...chicken alfredo? if that's alright with you," eren almost salivated at the thought. he simply nodded his head eagerly, the bangs around his face bouncing at the movement.

"sounds delicious! man, i really lucked out with you as my roomie, huh? we're gonna make a great pair!" he threw his arm around your shoulder and pulled you in closer as he said this, an innocent grin on his face.

— that night, the two of you sat on foldable chairs watching tv. eren's parents gave you two as a house warming gift. it was small, but it was working so that was all that mattered. eren and you laughed at the tv screen until the late hours, where you both agreed to finally call it a night.

"should i make breakfast tomorrow morning? or are you gonna be in clases by the time i get up?"

eren frowned, "i have classes all day tomorrow, from 8 in the morning to 7 at night, so you don't have to worry about making too many servings,"

you nodded in understanding, "alright, then, i'll see you when you get back then,"

eren and you were about to break off to your own rooms, but he called out to you one last time, "uhm, what time are you gonna be in classes?"

"i only have one class tomorrow, 1 to 3:15," his face brightened up, which instinctively made you smile at him in return.

"we can go get lunch together then," he offered, "there's a good place that has burgers, it's like a ten minute walk from the main campus. i have a break in between classes at 4? if that's okay with you, of course,"

you grinned so wide that it almost hurt your cheeks. eren was a really nice guy, he was going out of his way to just get to know you better and spend some time with you, "yeah, that sounds perfect. meet me at the bus stop that's right outside the main hall and we can walk together,"

"okay, yeah!" eren nodded his head repeatedly, the bangs on the side of his head once again moving at such rapid mvoement. "then, i'll text you tomorrow when i get out of class!"

"sure, that sounds good." there was a pause and you pivotted your torso to turn away from the smiling brunette, "good night, eren,"

the man blinked and nodded his head, also turning away, calling out a, "goodnight, [name]," very quickly.

and the two of you fell asleep with grins on both of your faces. eren had brought the blanket up to his face, as if he was paranoid that there were someone watching his blushing face only redden. your smile was really, really handsome, his heart felt like it was in his throat everytime he remembered it.

[wardenparker]

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 12

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 12.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Pregnancy. labor, childbirth, health emergency, hospital stay, talk of living wills and things going wrong, traumatic birth, mentions of death/possibility of death, reassurance, emotional hurt/comfort. Summary: Months after going public with your relationship with your soulmate, you and Marcus get the phone call you've been waiting for: Sydney has gone into labor! Notes: The migraines and the pain aren't gone but the story continues! This week is a rollercoaster, my darlings. I hope you enjoy 🧡

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11

The call came late on a Saturday night during the first full week of September. Busy getting ready to go out for a later-than-usual date, you had jumped straight up in the air when your phone started ringing. The words 'labor' and 'hospital' got you and Marcus moving instantly, and you were off to meet Juan and Sydney at Sibley Memorial Hospital faster than a heartbeat.

“Now, it’s gonna be awhile.” Marcus warns you, even as he speeds towards the hospital. “I might have to come back to get you some clothes.”

"As long as it doesn't take as long as Junie did to be born," you joke, trying to dispel your own tensions even as you fidget in your seat. "Mom was in labor for twenty-six hours. I think Syd will just reach in and pull the baby out before she waits that long."

“She’ll be yelling that she has a dinner menu to put out.” Marcus snorts, understanding how frustrated Juan has been when his wife refused to slow down until the very end.

"If she doesn't have her recipe notebook out within an hour of giving birth, I'll be astonished." She never slows down, your best friend, and you adore her despite it being worrying sometimes. At least you got her to agree to the more-than-generous New Parent Leave package the inn has adopted. They're both technically on your payroll so you know they'll be well taken care of.

“The new sous chef she hired to help the old one step into her shoes has worked out really well so far.” Marcus knows that talking about the inn will help you focus. Keep you from worrying yourself up into a state until you can lay your eyes on Sydney.

"She needed another set of hands anyway." Just because you know what he's doing doesn't mean you're not grateful, and you fidget in your seat before glancing down at your phone for the thousandth time. No new texts. You just have to remind yourself that that is a good thing. "Hopefully this new guy will work out and she'll keep him on long term."

“Yeah, it’s nearly a fully house every night in the restaurant.” Business in the inn might have taken a slight hit from the negative press, but the food was still bringing in the locals.

"Thank god for that." Over the last few months your bookings haven't been too stellar, but you've been making up for it with restaurant patrons and special event bookings. At least you had room enough to accommodate Marcus's parents when they came up in July. "I don't want to think about what would have happened if we'd lost restaurant sales along with bookings."

“I’m just happy that the ‘anonymous sources’ have tapered off lately.” The accusations are still out there but you and Marcus have been laying low for now.

“What I wouldn’t give for two seconds with our sniveling exes.” It’s obvious that it has been Sam and Vanessa feeding things to the gossip columnists, although technically all you have is your say-so. They’re being clever enough to make sure that there is no paper trail and nothing being said that marks them as the obvious source of the negative rumors. “Why do we have to be the better people?” You gripe with a pout. “We could just as easily say made up shit about them. For all we know, they were the ones having an affair and this is a whole situation of they doth protest too much.”

“I don’t think so.” Marcus would love for that to be the case. “That week of the state dinner, he was sick.” He reminds you. “I think Vanessa went over to his house and somehow discovered she’s his soulmate. She told me that she had just found out, not that she just met him.” He theorizes. “And now, they are twisting their own narrative, but I don’t understand why.”

“If they’re trying to discredit Mom through me, it’s not working.” Though your business may have taken a hit, your mother’s first term has been fairly impressive so far. She’s getting her legislation moving at a brisk clip and her focus on the economy is already strong. You sigh, though, pushing out the bad thoughts, and squeeze his hand over the gear shift. “They don’t get to ruin our goddaughter’s birth. That’s not in the cards.”

“Nope.” Marcus made sure to pack the gifts for mother and baby in the car while you were rushing around to get dressed. Both of you are excited. “Doesn’t matter, today is about Sydney and the baby.” He chuckles. “And poor Juan too. I know he’s a wreck right now.”

“He’s so excited and so nervous.” The clock on the dashboard reads ten minutes until midnight and you squeeze his hand again to relieve some of your own nerves. It’s not like you’re the one having a baby. There’s no reason to be nervous, but you are. For your best friend and your goddaughter and for Juan who is like a big brother to you.

“Yes he is.” Marcus tosses you a grin. “I know he’s supposed to be handing out cigars, but I managed to get my hands on a box of very nice ones. When the baby is born, I’m going to give them to him. To celebrate the important milestones with.”

“They’re the ones your dad smokes, aren’t they?” Beaming that grin right back at him, the conjured memory of the vanilla and spice scent of Matthew Pike’s favorite cigars is easy to conjure. “He’ll love that.”

“I hope so.” Marcus grins. “I can just imagine how proud he’s going to be. He’s going to be crying as he holds his child for the first time.”

“He’s going to be a leaky faucet by the time we get to the hospital,” you predict with an affection laugh. “They deserve this. They already love that little girl so much and they’re going to be amazing parents.”

“Yes they are.” He can’t help but be a little envious, although it’s not a sharp feeling because he knows it will happen for the two of you soon enough. He will be content with cuddling his new goddaughter.

There’s little traffic at this time of night, and before you know it you and Marcus are parking and heading inside to track down the room number that Juan texted to you. Sydney and Juan’s families will be alerted when the baby is born, but it was their wish to have you and Marcus in hand for the birth. You’ll be right there in the delivery room with Syd and Juan while Marcus keeps the families updated in a group chat. You’re co-captains of Team Moral Support and you’re excited for every second of it.

His hand is on your back as you stop in front of the door. “Are you ready, sweetheart?” He asks with a beaming smile.

“Nervous. Excited. Very ready.” You lean back to steal a kiss, warmed through by the comfort of having him by your side for this enormous step in the lives of your close friends. Your chosen family. “And…I can’t wait until it’s us.”

“Soon enough.” He promises. “Soon enough.” He pushed the door open and knocks with the back of his knuckles. “Knock, knock.”

“Oh thank god!” Comes the response from inside, and you’re laughing at the relief in Sydney’s voice when you and Marcus push inside. “The Godparent Brigade has arrived! Here to pump you up, handle your relatives, and fetch your sushi after the little peanut has arrived on the scene.”

“Get the sushi before anything else.” Sydney demands, rubbing her stomach and nearly salivating at the thought.

"I've already got your order in my phone, and Marcus will jet out to get it. You won't have to wait at all, honey." It doesn't surprise you in the least that Syd is thinking about one of her favorite foods, but you move over to her side in the bed as the two men hug and give your best friend a squeeze on her shoulder. "How are you doing? Do you want me to go strong arm a nurse for some ice chips?"

“Juan already has two cups of them, letting them melt down.” She grins at you and then winces when another contraction hits.

It takes everything you've got not to wince or cringe along with her, knowing that it won't do a single lick of good and won't help her feel any better. "How far apart are they?" You ask instead, rubbing her back in small, soothing circles.

“Twelve minutes, forty-seven seconds.” Juan tells you as he looks down at his watch and then back at his wife. “We are down from fifteen minutes.”

"Getting closer and closer!" Practically squeaking with excitement, you can see the same light in Juan's eyes despite the worry lines in his furrowed brow. He just wants everything to go well, and you can't blame him there.

Sydney huffs out a small laugh, knowing you are doing exactly what she had wanted you to. Cheerlead for her. “Did you happen to bring those hard candies?” She asks, her eyes wide and pleading.

"Yes!" Ready to dig into your purse immediately, you swirl around and grab your bag from where you had dropped it to one side when you came in the room. "I've got sour lemon and orange, and I've got the sweet strawberry ones. What are you feeling at the moment?"

“Sweet.” She practically moans the word and reaches out to you with grabby hands. “Don’t hold out on me now.”

"Here we go, babe." One of the candies is deposited in Syd's outstretched hands and a few more get tucked into the pockets of your cardigan to make sure you have one on hand for her at no more than a moment's notice. "Plenty more where that came from, I promise."

“You are the best.” She moans, popping the candy into her mouth and rolling her eyes in pleasure.

"Now how are you doing, Dad?" With Syd moaning over her small treat, you turn your attention to Juan.

“I’m hanging in there, but I think I forgot my bag.” He rolls his eyes and huffs. “Too busy making sure the car seat was secure.”

"Babe, you have a key to their place, right?" If not, you'll pull out your keys and send Marcus back to Alexandria with your spare house key instead. You would go yourself, but you vowed not to leave Sydney's side once you got to the hospital. The kind of vow that is definitely life or death and she will hold you to.

“Juan gave me one.” Marcus nods, and agrees with your silent plan. “I’ll run and get the bag. Pick up some coffee that’s better than the shit they serve here, yeah?”

"I have a feeling we're going to need it." Juan nods and claps Marcus on the shoulder gratefully.

"I'll call you if anything changes," you promise him, turning back to your own soulmate. "You're amazing, sweetheart. Thank you."

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He reassures you, leaning in to kiss your lips before hugging Juan and bussing Sydney’s cheek. “Ask for the good drugs, mama.” He teases with a wink, wanting her to laugh.

"You bet your ass!" She groans, wincing more heavily with this contraction than she had with the one before. "Get back here fast, Marcus. Speed. Lots!"

“I’ll use my badge if I get pulled over!” He calls back as he rushes out of the room.

"He'll be back in no time." Realistically you know it will take quite a lot of time, in fact, but your job tonight is not to be realistic. It is to be positive and upbeat. To keep spirits high. "I think Malachi is going to win the betting pool." You grin and stand up by the head of the bed with Sydney, right there to hold her hand if she needs you. "He had Monday – tomorrow, technically – as the day, but I don't think anyone had Sunday."

“Juan…” Sydney smiles. “Take a nap, baby. I know you are exhausted. You were about to go to sleep when my labor started. Birdie is here, so get some sleep.”

He raises an eyebrow, knowing his wife is in pain, but also knowing that a short nap will ensure he is at his best to help her. "We'll take shifts," he compromises, eyeing you just as much as his wife. "So someone is always here holding your hand and timing your contractions. Short naps only. I don't want to miss anything."

“I promise I won’t push her out without you.” She teases, leaning in and pressing her lips to his. “Go, it might be your last nap for the next eighteen years.”

"I love you, Warrior Queen." There are more kisses and more sweet words, and finally Juan crosses the compact hospital room to curl up on the Dad Bench and try to get at least a little bit of sleep before his baby girl enters the world.

“I don’t want to be horrible through this.” She admits quietly. “I’m hoping the labor progresses so I get an epidural quickly.”

"There is not a single person who is going to even blink an eye if you are upset during this labor," you promise her. She pats the side of her bed and you perch on the edge of the mattress, holding her hand all the while. "If you wanted or needed to rage through the whole thing, we would stand by your right to do so. But we'll also stand by your choice to do things any other way. Whatever way is going to be the best possible experience of bringing your first baby into this world."

“Will you do me a favor?” She asks quietly, eyeing Juan as he turns into the couch and gives you his back. He’s already snoring lightly so she’s not worried about him overheating. “If something happens…..” This is the first time that she’s ever said anything out loud and her eyes are anxious. “I’ve signed the paperwork already, but if something happens, I don’t want to stay on machines.” She whispers. “Promise me that you’ll help him let go. And if it’s me or the baby…you know what I want you to choose.”

“Nothing is going to happen.” As firmly and sternly as you can, you squeeze your best friend’s fingers in yours and bite back the instant tears that spring but behind your eyes. The fact that this conversation is even necessary is heartbreaking, but women die in childbirth every single day. Nothing is going to happen. You almost shake with determination but that isn’t what she needs right now. The person who means the most to you in the world besides Marcus is looking you in the face and asking you to be loyal to her. And you will. “I promise.” Two small, devastating words. But if she’s thought this far ahead, she’s also had another thought. “You have a will somewhere?”

“In the safe at home.” She nods, relieved that you are not fighting her and it’s obvious on her face. She had expected an argument, she knows she would have gotten one from Juan, which is why she chose you as her medical POA. “The papers are in an envelope in my bag.” She nods towards the incredibly organized hospital bag.

“Okay.” You nod, still holding her hands tightly. “I love you. I will honor your wishes. Now tell me which onesies you packed to bring her home in so you can get excited again.”

“All of them.” Sydney snorts, only half kidding. “There are twelve that I couldn’t decide between, so I brought them all. Figured we would decide which one looks best when we are holding her.”

“We can absolutely decide later.” She’s already a little sweaty at the top of her forehead from the contractions and you nudge a cup of melted ice chips toward her just to cool her down. “Do you have a top three?”

“The ones in the right hand pocket.” She takes the cup and starts to gulp down the cool water.

In the right hand pocket of Sydney’s neatly packed hospital bag, three folded baby onesies await their new owner: one from her mother in law covered in little surfboards and ocean waves and sunglasses to represent how much Juan had loved surfing when he was out in California. One from Syd’s sister AnnaLeigh with Once Upon a Time…a Heroine was Born written out like the beginning of an illuminated fairytale, and one from you and Marcus emblazoned with the logo of Syd’s favourite hockey team to get her baby girl started out right. “They’re fantastic choices,” you hum, looking at the clothes with misty eyes.

“You see why I couldn’t choose?” She laughs, shaking her head and setting down the rest of the ice chips to melt. Seriously not understanding why they just wouldn’t give her water. Labor is fucking thirsty work.

“I think I like AnnaLeigh’s,” you admit, before tucking them back into the bag as carefully as they had been before. “But we’ll see how she feels about them when she’s here. Who knows? She might come out the chillest baby in the world and then we now she matches Juanito’s surfer phase.”

“Juan actually likes that one too.” She admits with a grin. “He’s so fucking excited for this baby to come. He swears if he could carry her for me, he would.”

“He totally would have if he could.” The grin on your face breaks wider, and you sit back on the edge of Syd’s bed with her. “So would Marcus. In a heartbeat.”

“How did we get so fucking lucky?” Her eyes mist up, overwhelmed with the beautiful thought of both of you so happy and cared for with your soulmates.

“I truly have no idea.” The mist in her eyes halts for just a moment as another contraction hits, but it doesn’t fade. It doesn’t dim. Syd’s happiness is true, and you’re so grateful to see it. “Thank god they get along though. We’d be screwed if our soulmates weren’t friends.”

Panting, she leans back and rubs her belly. “We would make them be friends.” She jokes. “The most awkward small talk over beers until they find a common interest.”

“Lucky for us?” You sit forward and help her readjust her pillows from where they had fallen out of place. “They’re basically as inseparable as we are again.”

"Lucky for us." She agrees, leaning back with a sigh and smiling at you. "Thanks. You know what I need before I do sometimes."

“For most of the time we’ve known each other, I’ve been shocked that we aren’t soulmates.” At some point in your teenage years you had discussed it, but your appendicitis scar already existed and she has never born that. “I gotta be honest, I used to be bummed that we’re not. But when you met Juan, I understood why.”

She kisses the air in your direction. "Because you had Marcus waiting on you, too." She reminds you. "We are better than soulmates. We are sisters by choice."

“I would have waited forever for him.” She gets the same air kiss from you, and you descend into giggles together. “We really are lucky.”

The giggles are interrupted by another contraction, making Sydney hiss and squeeze her eyes shut as she tries to breathe through it. Coming out as more of a whine until the pain passes again. "They- They are getting closer." She huffs when she can talk again.

“We’re down to eight minutes and sixteen seconds apart,” you tell her, checking your watch. “You’re doing awesome, Syd.”

“I can’t believe it.” She grunts when she gets a foot in her rib. “I don’t know whether to be impressed that it’s going so fast, or cry because I’m not further along.”

"You're allowed to be both, you know." Frankly, you're both. She is progressing quickly but you know she would rather have just arrived fully dilated and ready to go. "Just remember. At least she's not dragging her heels like Junie did."

“I don’t know how your mom did it.” She huffs, thinking about your mother and how excited you had been for a younger sister. “She was still working while in labor.”

"My mother is some kind of weird combination of feral cryptid being and absolute machine," you chuckle, shaking your head. "If I'm trying to do bookings and make staff schedules during labor, please slap me."

Huffing out a laugh, she grunts and rubs her belly again on the side. “Done.” She pants. “But get me my notebook.” She points to her bag. “I just thought about a salted Carmel mocha crème brûlée.”

“I am only agreeing to this because it will take your mind off the pain.” Still, you dig into the pocket opposite the onesies she has earmarked as favorites and come out with her battered and beaten recipe notebook. “It sounds like it will be nice to send to your sous chef.”

“It sounds like something I want to eat right now.” She groans, flipping open the tatty cover and laying it on her baby bump to quickly write down her idea.

“You’re going to be a little distracted and busy for a while,” you remind her. Still you can’t help but grin at her tongue poking out from between her teeth as she scribbles.

“Doesn’t mean I’m not hungry.” She moans pitifully after finishing the notes. “I was in the middle of getting a snack.” The pout that pushes her lips out would be comical under different circumstances but she’s horribly disappointed to have not gotten to eat before being bustled into the car by her frazzled husband.

“What was snack time tonight?” It is absolutely always the way to distract her when she’s feeling bad, and tonight is All Sydney All the Time, so you’re focused in one her.

She groans and whimpers slightly at the food she had to leave on the counter. “Cottage cheese with fresh peach compote and balsamic glaze.” She pouts even more. “It was going to be amazing. But I had to tell Juan that I was cramping.”

“I’ll make sure there’s plenty in your fridge waiting for you when you get home.” You can promise her that, along with their fridge and freezer being fully stocked with ready-made meals and easy to use ingredients that should last more than two weeks. Between you and Marcus and Malachi and her staff, you’ve all been secretly helping prep for baby’s arrival for a week already. Even Agent Bailey made a contribution to the frozen meals and added some veggies from her garden.

“Thank you.” She smiles you softly. “I can’t believe that when I leave, I’m going to be holding her.” She admits with a grin.

“She’s almost here.” As if to affirm it, another swift kick to Sydney’s abdomen is brutally obvious, and you grin. “And she’s excited about it.”

The two of you settle into a comfortable silence. Broken by contractions and the quickening of their pace. Sydney trying to be quiet as she pants through them to let Juan sleep.

Checking your watch again and finding nearly two hours have gone by, you tilt your head at your best friend and hand her another strawberry candy. "Marcus should be back soon, and your contractions are barely more than five minutes apart now. I think it's time to wake Dad up and call for the nurse."

Marcus has Juan’s bag in the backseat and he had cancelled the reservations he had made for tonight. They aren’t going to be used, and he had apologized profusely. Still, he stops at the inn to run up to the small gun safe, using the biometric lock to open it and reveal a small ring box. He had been planning to propose tonight, and he still can, it will just look different now.

"It's happening, isn't it?" On his one night shift per week, Malachi had seen you and Marcus hustle out the backdoor of the inn with bags in hand and seen not long after when Marcus reappeared in a hurry. Now he is waiting at the back door once again, but this time to snag Marcus before he can disappear in to the night.

“It is.” Marcus nods with a huge grin spreading across his face. “Juan forgot his bag. I’ll text you when she’s born.” All the staff are invested so he will be sure to let them know. “You’ve got the inn?” He checks, although he knows what the other man will say.

"That baby is your godchild." Malachi smiles surprisingly softly. "This inn is mine."

“I know.” He reaches out and squeezes Malachi’s arm. “Birdie trusts you with her most important treasure.” He praises.

"Not quite." He winks at the other man, considering him a friend now after many months of back and forth, and grins. "She'd never leave me alone with you."

Marcus snorts, well aware of the man’s proclivity to flirt. He matches that grin. “That’s because she knows how persuasive you are.” He jokes, winking at him playfully. “Besides. You are still yearning for your soulmate and will only be happy when he breezes into your life like he’s always been there.”

"Check all those doctors for my ankle tat, handsome." Malachi teases, shooing Marcus toward the door. "A man in scrubs is better than a man in uniform."

“I will.” He gives Malachi a salute and hustles out of the door to speed back to the hospital as quickly as he can.

It's on the heels of a nurse when Marcus comes back into the room, with Juan standing at Syd's side holding tight to your hand while you have been banished to the corner of the room so the nurse can do her work. "It's almost time!" You tell him excitedly, wrapping your arms around him the second he makes his way over to her.

“Holy shit, I made it just in time then.” He can’t believe how fast it’s gone, he had expects at least half a day or more of labor.

"Apparently Constance does not want to wait." The shine of tears in your eyes isn't going anywhere now that you're about to head to the delivery room with Sydney and Juan, but you hug Marcus fiercely. "And I can't wait to meet her. I'm so glad you made it in time."

“Me too.” Marcus presses his lips to yours, letting you cling to him for a second before you pull back. “Does she want me there for Juan or should I stay here?”

"Stay here and hold down the fort for us? She's going to be exhausted when it's all over but she's nervous about everything being okay in the room while we're gone." Wishing so dearly that this was your night only makes you smile because you know that it's only a matter of time.

“Absolutely.” Marcus nods and looks over at Juan and Sydney. “I’ve got everything here. You go meet your daughter.”

"We'll be back soon." Juan is beaming, practically hopping around, and looks like he might jump out of his own skin if given the chance. "She's almost here!"

Marcus laughs at the bubbly excitement, watching as the nurses wheel her bed out, with you and Juan right on their heels as she’s transferred over to the delivery room. “And now…” Marcus pulls out the ring box and flicks it open to look down at the gorgeous ring. “We wait.”

It's over an hour before anyone comes back into the room, and when it happens it's just you alone with a look of exhausted panic on your face. "Everyone's okay." The first words out of your mouth, but you murmur them while shaking slightly and bolting into his arms, so it isn't terribly reassuring.

That doesn’t sound reassuring, coupled with the desperate way you cling to him. Marcus folds you into his embrace tightly.

“She was breech…” Sniffling through the explanation and clinging to him even harder is about the best you can do right now. “And they couldn’t get her to turn. Then—then they did an ultrasound and figured out that—” The shudder that runs through you is all-encompassing. “She had her umbilical cord around her neck. So they had to do an emergency c-section.” The shaky breath you exhale as you lean back is enough to make him quake right along with you, but he holds you steady. “And then the placenta ruptured after they brought the baby out and—and Syd just kept bleeding—”

“Oh shit.” Marcus whispers in horror, his heart plummeting to his feet and he swallows harshly. “But they are both okay?” He had heard you say they were, but he needs the confirmation.

“They’re both okay.” You can barely manage to nod, tears spilling over for yet another time. “They took Constance to the NICU and Juan is with Syd in recovery until they okay her to come back here.”

“Thank God.” Marcus breathes out softly. “Hopefully Syd is asleep? I know she would be frantic if Constance isn’t with her after that.”

“Awake, but exhausted.” You’re still gripping his leather jacket, refusing to let go. It had been warding off the chill in the air conditioned room but now it’s your life line. “They let her hold the baby for a few minutes before they whisked her off to the NICU.”

“How is she?” Marcus asks quietly, worrying about the baby. “Could we sit with her in the NICU?”

“The doctor said not to worry.” Though you sniffle again, clearly very concerned. “That she’s seen babies in far worse condition come through it totally fine. But they wanted her in a place where they can help immediately if they need to.” Two tears leak from your eyes but you brush them away with the back of your wrist and try to breathe. “They’ll come down and tell us in a little while if she can come be with Sydney or if we’ll be allowed to visit the NICU. For now we just gotta—we gotta stay put. That’s why Juan wanted me to come tell you.”

“Then that is what we will do.” Marcus promises, rubbing your back gently. “I’ll wait to pick up her sushi, hmm?” He wants you to decide that is the best option because he’s not leaving you right now. Not for anything in the world. He’s already reached out to his team to let them know he’s out of pocket for right now.

“Until after she gets some sleep.” You nod against his chest and wrap your arms around his waist for a sturdy anchor. “This is…not a celebrating time. The only thing worth celebrating is the fact that they’re okay.”

The ring he had planned to give you tonight burns a hole in his pocket, but he hums in agreement, pressing his lips to your head. “I completely agree.” He murmurs softly. “We will just make sure that they are in perfect health.”

“I love you so much.” The sheer relief of having him in your arms now after nearly losing your best friend — both of them meaning more to you than life itself — is unspeakable. “And I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He promises. “I think I’m going to text the group that mom and baby are resting comfortably and we will make the announcement later?” He asks. “I don’t want people to bug Juan or worry.”

“I think that’s probably a good idea.” The last that the baby arrival group chat had heard, Syd was being wheeled to the delivery room. They deserved an update.

“Why don’t you go into the bathroom and wash your face, sweetheart?” Marcus urges. “Change into your comfy clothes and I’ll send out a text.”

“I’m too anxious to sleep, but I’ll wash up and change.” It seems like it will make you feel less frazzled, and therefore more on your game to help your friends. “But if you need to lie down, you should. I’ll wake you up when the nurse comes in with news.”

“I won’t sleep.” Marcus is too focused on you, too in tune with your nervousness to ever nap. Not right now.

“Then change with me and settle in,” you suggest instead, knowing that if your positions were switched you would feel the same. “It might be a long night.”

Marcus nods. “I can do that.” He promises, rubbing your shoulders and moving towards the bags. “If you want to take a quick shower, no one would blame you.”

“I think I’ll save that trick for refreshing myself in a few hours from now.” Predicting that you’ll need it, you kiss him now and slip off to the adjacent bathroom with your overnight bag to change.

Marcus pulls out his phone and calls down to the florist department that is on the ground floor of the hospital, wanting Sydney to come back to a lovely bouquet.

Wash your face. Change your clothes. Try not to break out crying again that you almost had to put that conversation with Syd a few hours ago into action. By the time you come out of the bathroom in Marcus’s old FBI Academy sweatshirt and a pair of yoga pants, your shoulders are drooping and your feet are dragging but at least you’ve stopped crying.

“Oh sweetheart.” While you had washed your face, Marcus had changed out in the room. “Come lay down with me on the sofa/bench thing.” He urges, reaching for you again.

“The Dad Bench.” Curling up into his side immediately, you lay your head on his shoulder and breathe out another sigh. “After you left, she made me promise to make the decision if something went wrong,” you tell him quietly. “Juan would never be able to…and she knew…that if she made me promise. I’d do what she wanted.”

He had been stroking your arm, fingers freezing as he absorbs the implication of that statement. “I’m glad it didn’t come to that.” He closes his eyes and sends up a prayer of thanks and continued good health to whomever might hear him. He doesn’t wish that on anyone, least of all his soulmate and one of his best friends.

"It almost did." Tears come again, fresh and few, but they are definitely there. "The only other time I've heard Juan pray in Spanish was when his mother had a heart attack a few years ago."

“I would be praying in every fucking language I could if it were you.” Marcus whispers. “To every God ever imagined.”

"Everyone is okay." Having to remind yourself of it fairly often seems...fairly reasonable, all things considered. You had stood at your best friend's side and looked her and her soulmate in the eyes as the doctors worked to control her bleeding. As she lay on a table with the distinct reality that those would be the last moments of her life.

But no. Everyone is okay. And soon they'll send her downstairs so she can rest comfortably, and they'll bring little Constance to her to have joyous moments with her family instead of fearful ones.

“Everyone is okay.” He echoes softly. “But…I asked the nurse for a rollaway bed for you.” The nurse had slipped into the room to check on you while you had been in the bathroom, before he had changed. You had just walked into the other room and closed the door, in fact. He had thought it would be best to prepare for you to not leave this room anytime soon.

"Did she say anything else?" No news is good news most of the time when you're in a hospital, but if Marcus got to speak to a nurse you want to know everything.

“She said that momma and baby should be in here by the time visitor hours start.” He couldn’t get a timeframe beyond that, but he took what he could get.

"That's..." Turning your wrist to check your face, the dial reads just after four in the morning. "That's about four hours. And I know Juan won't be down without them. So...I guess we should settle in?"

“Of course.” He doesn’t move, just continuing to hold you. Feeling you relax against him slowly.

"I guess...rain check on date night sex?" You huff weakly, trying for a joke. By this time of night on a date night you would normally be fast asleep – and very naked – in each other's arms.

“A rain check with you is better than any legal tender.” He jokes back, smiling softly even though he had hoped it would be engaged sex.

"What a night." The longer that you sit with him, the calmer you get. It's such an enormous thing for you, to have someone to anchor you as well as he does, and you sigh again as you deflate just a little more into his side.

“Not exactly how I imagined the night going.” Marcus admits with a small sigh. He’s not unhappy, he just wishes the birth hadn’t been so traumatic for everyone.

"Tell me what we were going to do tonight." Thinking about absolutely anything else seems like a very good idea right now, and while you know it was already late when you were leaving the apartment, you also know that Marcus had made plans for tonight.

“I had booked us a late table at Kingbird.” He tells you, smiling at the fact that Sydney had pulled the strings to get the reservation. “It was supposed to be the last table of the night.”

"The restaurant at the Watergate?" Your eyebrows raise when you look up at him and you're practically pouting. "I've been dying to try that place."

“I know.” He had asked and there was a list of places, but he had chosen that one to immortalize as special for the two of you. “And booked us a room at the hotel.”

"Shit." The pout on your lips deepens when you realize how much work Marcus had put into the night, only for it to be interrupted. "I'm so sorry, love. We'll have to reschedule everything. It sounds like it would have been beautiful."

“This is more important.” Marcus insists. “Don’t apologize. This is where I want to be, with you.”

"I don't think I could make it through tonight without you." It would be too much to handle on your own. With such deep emotions entangled in every second of the night, without your anchor you might have just flown apart. "I don't like the idea of doing anything without you anymore."

“You would have, sweetheart.” Marcus knows that, you are so damn strong. So much stronger than you ever believe about yourself. “I know you would have, but you don’t have to.” He stresses. “I’ll be here for you. Support you, comfort you. Celebrate your success and mourn your losses with you. I’m right here.”

"There are no losses to mourn tonight." And you'll be thanking every deity out there for any part they may have had in it. And also making sure that you note down the name of Sydney's doctor for your own pregnancies, because that woman worked quickly and thoroughly and without hesitation to make sure that both mother and baby made it through a birth that would have killed them both in decades past.

“We celebrate life.” He agrees softly. “And love. That little girl is loved so much already.”

"She's beautiful." And of course, there's a sniffle again. At least this one is happy and relieved. "Syd's big eyes and Juan's dark hair."

“Juan is going to be miserable when she gets older.” He laughs quietly. “She’s going to be gorgeous.”

"If she's anything like her mom, she'll have her head too far in the clouds to notice any of the boys or girls chasing her," you laugh along with him, remembering Sydney in high school. "Syd never had any clue how sought after she was."

“She was waiting for Juan.” It’s a bit of a romantic stretch, but it could also be the truth. “Plus she was too in love with crème brûlée. No mere man could compare.”

"She was dreaming about a caramel mocha one while you were gone." The maddening fear is starting to subside, finally, and you sink ever more deeply against Marcus on the bench. "I swear I'll make them for her every day for the rest of her life after what happened tonight."

“See?” He smirks to himself. “She loves them and I’ll help you. I can take the next week off, help with the inn and let you focus on Sydney and co?”

"You don't have to do that." It's a lot to ask of him, and you know that even though he has plenty of vacation time, you were planning on taking a trip down to Texas to spend New Years with his parents. "It's a deeply appreciated gesture, though."

“I don’t mind.” He protests, although he had been certain you would not let him do that for you. “I hope you know that.”

"I know, my love." In his lap, your fingers find his and tangle your hands together. "Why don't we wait on that decision until we see how Sydney and the baby are doing? I don't want you to take extra days out when I know you had been wanting to do other things with them in the next few months."

“Alright.” He will do what you want, let you lead this but he won’t let you exhaust yourself trying to carry everything. “Hopefully they will deliver the flowers I ordered before Syd comes back into the room.”

“You ordered flowers?” Sometimes you really feel like the things he does are magic, from small to large the gestures of love and support are always so deep that it seems impossible for him to not be the Superman of emotional support. “Honey, you’re—you’re too good. Too all of us.”

Marcus snorts. “My mother insisted we order flowers from her and dad, before this all went sideways.” He adds. Wanting you to know the context. “But Sydney just went through a traumatic childbirth. Flowers are the least I could do in order to make her feel loved and special.” He had ordered the flowers his mother wanted and then ordered other arrangements, including a welcome bouquet for Constance herself.

“Everyone is okay.” More reassuring this time, the words still come out in a hush and your eyes drop from Marcus’s for a moment before fluttering back up. “Thank you for being you,” you murmur after a moment. Marcus is that supportive and bolstering friend and family member. This is just who he is. And you’re so entirely grateful to have him here with you, especially right now.

“I don’t know if I would thank me for that.” Marcus teases, leaning in and kissing your forehead again. “But you can always count on me, hummingbird.”

“I know I can. And I’m thankful for that.” More than you could ever say. More than any words you have.

“Close your eyes.” He orders softly. He knows you are exhausted and emotionally spent. You need the rest so you can care for Sydney, Juan and the baby when they are back in this room.

“I can’t guarantee I’ll sleep.” Though you’ll try, knowing that the nurse doesn’t expect Sydney or the baby to be able to come down for at least a few hours.

“I know. Just closing them will be good.” He murmurs softly, still rubbing your back when you shift to lay across him. “You’ve been crying.”

“You would have been proud of me,” you murmur, settling against him one more time and shutting your eyes. “I kept it together until after everything happened.” It was shock, probably, but you still managed it. “Therapy is going to be a doozy this week.”

“Yes it will.” He won’t deny that or try to minimize your feelings. “You don’t need to skip it.”

“I’m absolutely not going to skip it.” Not this week, of all weeks. Not at all. The heaviness of the night is tugging at you, not for sleep but for rest, and for the first time you think you actually might be able to calm down fully as long as you can stay in Marcus’s arms.

Humming in approval, he doesn’t speak, letting the silence draw between you and waiting for your breathing to start slowing down.

The nap lasts about two hours. Two hours held tight in Marcus’s arms on that padded bench, and when you shift against him the small sound of noncommittal discomfort and surprise is enough to tell you that he fell asleep too. Good, you think, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Everyone deserves a reset tonight. Even little Constance.

Marcus wakes quietly, as soon as you move, and he slowly remembers that he’s not in your bed. Both of you are at the hospital. He hums and sighs softly, knowing it hadn’t been a long nap, but it will do wonders for the coming hours.

"Hey handsome." The room is quiet and so are you, sitting up to stretch beside him and bring your limbs back to life.

“How did you sleep?” Marcus asks softly, watching you through heavy eyes.

“Better than I thought I would,” you admit, though you have a feeling that’s only because you didn’t sleep deeply enough for nightmares to set in. “You?”

“Pretty good nap.” He yawns. “Although I know I’m going to have to get coffee for all of us.”

Checking your watch, you stretch again and knock against his side with a lopsided grin. “The cafeteria should be open soon. I have a map of the hospital in my bag so you won’t get lost.”

“Just for that, I’ll bring you two coffees.” He groans, standing up and stretching out. “I should get dressed.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t be the only visitor to go get coffee in your jammies.” Far from it, if you had to hazard a guess.

He snorts slightly. “I don’t doubt it. But I would hate to steal any of Juan’s new dad thunder.” He jokes, winking at you.

“Juan will be doing everything in bespoke suits with giant buttons that exclaim New Dad! for everyone he meets.” It’s sweet to think about, now that the fear is mostly past. It won’t wither entirely until you get to see mother and baby, but that should be soon.

“Of course he will.” Marcus laughs. “He’s already got an app on his phone that is just for organizing pictures of the baby.”

“Make sure you get the name of it,” you tease, leaning over to kiss him and getting one last stretch in — right into his arms. “We’ll need that for our kids, I’m sure.”

“You know it.” Marcus grins. “I’ve already downloaded it. It also has a wedding portion of the app. Basically you can upload all your important moments in it.” He doesn’t mention that he had set it up for the proposal that didn’t happen last night.

“You think of everything.” He really does, so it’s barely even an embellishment. At this point you’re just relieved that you can think of small things again instead of the larger, overhanging fear of just a few hours ago.

“Not everything.” Marcus snorts, winking at you. “Otherwise, I would have had coffee delivered by now.”

“Mostly everything, then.” One more kiss and you pull back to get your things sorted out around the room. “I’m going to tidy up a little and get out a couple of comfort things for Syd. So when she comes down she’ll have her favorite cardigan and things like that.” Absolutely anything you can do to soothe your best friend’s hellish night, you’re going to.

“That sounds perfect.” Marcus agrees. “I’ll go grab the coffee. What do you want, sweetheart?”

“Just my usual.” Your hum of appreciation is more relaxed than it would have been earlier in the night. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too.” He promises as he quickly starts changing into the clothes he had brought.

Marcus is gone for about a half an hour before the door to the room opens again, but when it does it's Juan there – holding the door open wide as one of the overnight workers from the transport department wheels Sydney's bed back into the room with her nurse hot on their heels.

“We are back.” His tone is exhausted but elated at the same time. It’s been a sleepless night for him. Afraid that he would close his eyes and Sydney would be gone.

"How are you feeling, honey?" You're at Sydney's side as soon as the nurse is done getting her settled. The woman has the patience of a saint and excuses herself to go retrieve Constance, who is being allowed to leave the NICU.

“Tired. Sore.” She admits with a quick, tired smile. “Impatient to hold my daughter.”

"She'll be down soon." Glancing at the door where the nurse has disappeared to bring around that same little girl, the warmth in the room starts to grow exponentially. "Marcus went to get coffees. And I'll bring sushi for lunch. Cross my heart."

“I don’t know if I’m hungry.” Sydney admits with a slight shrug. She’s still a little disoriented from the drugs. “But coffee sounds amazing. I could sleep for days.”

"Then we won't worry about food right now. But Marcus is bringing back coffee for you, and he should be back very soon." You grin at your friends and send them both a conspiratorial shrug. "I sent him with a map, otherwise you know he would have gotten lost."

Juan laughs as he fuses over Sydney, hovering as if she might disappear if he steps too far away. “He should have been a Lieutenant in the military, as bad as he is.”

“I’ve just learned to always have a map for new places or to set up the gps in his car without asking.” It’s a quirk, and you all have them, but Marcus’s ability to get lost almost anywhere is a standing joke between the four of you and it’s so, so good to hear Syd laugh. Even if it’s only a little, it’s completely worth it.

The knock on the door comes just a moment later and Marcus pokes his head in. “Oh you’re here!” He brightens up and pushes the door open, the delivery person from the flower shop hot on his heels. “I was hoping to get all this inside before you did.”

“We just got back.” Syd is groggy for sure, but not so badly that she doesn’t register the tray of coffees and bag of food with the hospital’s cafe logo on it that you jump forward to snag from him and the delivery of flowers that comes in behind him. With the tension and fear of the last few hours and all the emotions and hormones still raging in her, Sydney is immediately in tears. “You—you got flowers?” She half-squalls like it’s the kindest and most loving thing any person has ever done in the history of time. For her, especially right now, it definitely feels like it.

“Ohhhh don’t cry.” Marcus frets slightly, even though he’s pretty sure that they are happy tears. “I wanted you and Constance to have a beautiful reminder of how loved you both are.” He walks over to the recovering woman, that he now regards as his friend, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “More are coming too.” He promises.

“It’s so sweet!” Syd huffs between large tears, hugging Marcus as tightly as her recovering body will permit. “You’re so sweet.” Even after we interrupted your plans, she thinks loudly, but manages not to say it. She knows what last night was supposed to be and she hated having to call when she knew Marcus was about to sweep you out the door.

“You deserve nothing but happiness right now.” He promises, looking over at Juan and squeezing Sydney gently before he pulls back and moves over to the new father. “Congratulations.” He is somber, aware of what the agony of the night had done to his friend.

“It was a hell of a night.” Juan pulls Marcus in for a hug — something the two men need right now for grounding, but Juan also murmur, “And sorry for the timing” to Marcus before pulling away.

“Don’t ever worry about that.” Marcus insists. “Doesn’t matter if I was in the middle of it, we would have been on our way.” Yes, proposing to you and giving you a beautiful moment is important to him; but some things are always much more important and this is at the top of that priority list.

“We’ll make it work.” Juan promises quietly, glad to see you absorbing Sydney in conversation while she marvels at the flowers that Marcus ordered.

“How’s Constance doing?” Marcus asks quietly, not seeing the bassinet in the room. “Will she be released from the NICU soon?”

“Our doc said she’s stable, so she can come down and have some family time and be fed.” As a brand new father of only about two and a half hours, that has Juan both puffing out his chest and teary with pride. “The nurse should be bringing her down now.”

“That’s great!” Marcus grins, knowing that both mama and daddy will feel better with their newborn daughter in their room.

Having settled Sydney with her coffee and treat — Marcus brought muffins back from the cafe — you excuse yourself to the bathroom and feel like you can finally breathe. Syd is here. You can hear her muffled laughing through the door. And the baby will be down soon. Everyone is okay.

“Looks Marcus…” Sydney’s voice is hushed and he can tell by her guilty expression what is coming. “Please, don’t apologize again.” He begs her softly. “There is nothing to apologize for.”

“I can call Kingbird,” she offers immediately. Explain it was my fault you had to cancel and get you a new reservation.”

“No.” He shakes his head and glances back at the bathroom. “I don’t think she’s going to be leaving your side for quite awhile and I cannot in good conscience try to convince her otherwise.”

He insists that she shouldn’t apologize more but Sydney still feels like she ought to, pursing her lips until she eventually tilts her head to look up at the men standing side by side at her bed. “You could still do it tonight if you wanted to,” she offers. It’s technically morning now — past six, anyway — but she hasn’t gotten any sleep yet so everything blends together. “It…” she blows out a sigh. “I know it wasn’t the easiest night.” For her especially. “But it would be nice to have Constance’s birth surrounded by happiness. Instead of what might have happened.”

Marcus considers it for a moment, frowning slightly and he bites his lip. “That is— are you sure?” He would never want to take away from Constance and her birth.

Sydney sits back in her hospital bed and takes Juan’s hand, letting him anchor her the way you always do with Marcus. “I don’t want the only thing I remember about the day my daughter was born to be that both of us almost died,” she admits quietly, knowing it’s a little selfish to ask him for this but also knowing that the happy memories you make together mean everything to the four of you.

He can understand that and he bites his lip. “Then….what do you think about me proposing here?” He asks. “It’s not the most romantic setting, but I think under the circumstances, it’s the best place to do it.”

“There’s flowers and best friends and I know you brought her back her favourite muffin.” Juan chuckles, feeling a bit misty eyed over more good things happening. “What’s more romantic than that?”

“Maybe we can do something that involves the baby?” Marcus suggests.

“I will squall.” Sydney warns, already tearing up all over again. “But quickly before she comes back…wrap the ring box in the baby blanket?”

“Perfect.” Marcus dives for the bag that had been packed for Constance and finds the soft baby blanket they had decided to wrap her in while in the hospital. “When the baby comes in, ask her to get the blanket for you.” Marcus tells Sydney.

“If we can keep a straight face,” Syd laughs, but agrees immediately.

Marcus hides the ring box in the folds of the blanket. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“More than.” Sydney promises, right before the bathroom door opens.

You had washed up a little again, refreshing yourself and feeling a little more human while you were in the bathroom. “Did you manage to rest a little while you were upstairs?” Your focus is right back on Sydney but you take a second to give Marcus a kiss of thanks when he hands you your coffee.

“Yes.” She’s still tired and exhausted, but she smiles. “I did, you don’t worry about me.” She huffs, knowing that it won’t do any good. You will fret over her just like Juan will. “Looking forward to sushi later.”

“We’ll have a sushi party and baby girl can get milk drunk like a party animal.” Making the best of what had been a nearly calamitous situation is good for everyone’s spirits right now. You help the guys set up a little area as a breakfast ‘table’ for the three of you and set Sydney’s things on her tray. It’s about time for the morning shows that Juan loves so the tv goes on, and seconds later the nurse enters with her bundled up charge yawning as loudly as her little lungs can manage.

“Oh my god.” Marcus coos as soon as he sees the little angel in the flesh. She is perfect and nothing will convince him otherwise, falling in love with his goddaughter in a split second. “She’s so precious.”

“She’s perfect.” As expected, Sydney and Juan are both in tears all over again, and the nurse who helped Sydney get comfortable upstairs makes sure Mom and Dad have everything they need before bowing out to let the family bond.

“She’s beyond perfect.” It’s all you can do not to cry with them, looking at your best friend and goddaughter together.

“Isn’t she?” Sydney completely agrees as she finally gets to hold her newborn daughter. Completely in awe of how perfect she is.

The room is practically full of the sound of smiling, whatever that really is, but you end up half-laughing under your breath and looking to Marcus with fresh water behind your eyes. "I want one too," you laugh, overwhelmed with absolute joy and love.

He laughs at your eagerness, the yearning and knows that you are only partially joking. “I don’t know if we could top how perfect she is.” He admits with his own chuckle.

"Maybe not." The only possible place for you to be right now is snuggled into his side and you tuck yourself in there to just stare at your goddaughter together. "We can't know until we try, though."

Sydney spares a glance at Marcus, who nods as he holds you close. “We have to get through a few other things first.” He reminds you.

"I know." You hum when he presses a kiss to the top of your head and sigh again. "I just love her so much and I wanna give her everything. Including playmates."

Sydney coos at Constance and cuddles her closer. “Birdie, would you get me her baby blanket?” She asks softly. “From her bag? I want her in the things we picked out.”

"Yeah, of course!" You hop to immediately, slipping out of Marcus's arms to go to the bag Sydney packed. The baby blanket from Sydney's parents is folded near the top. It's a light thing, a beautiful hand knitted piece done in their chosen color of green and then embroidered with the initials CMB for Constance Marie Badillo.

The blanket slips a little in your hand when you pick it up, and when you go to right it a small but weighty something falls out from the center. The realization that it's probably something that Juan tucked away as a surprise for Sydney has you tucking it back inside quickly and handing over the blanket like you're suddenly holding a hot potato.

Sydney hadn’t been expecting you to hand over the blanket so fast so she pushes towards you again for a moment. “Hold it please.” She requests, knowing you will do anything. She has to give Marcus time to get into position.

"Of course," you agree again, bobbing your head on a nod. Glancing over at Juan makes you wonder if you should do something to help, like opening up the blanket so she can see the little jewelry box or something. Maybe hold it sort of presentationally? You can't quite make up your mind and end up clutching the blanket to your chest in surprise when you hear Marcus clear his throat and whirl around to see him down on one knee in the middle of the little hospital room.

That jewelry box was definitely not for Sydney...

“Before you panic, I have the happy new parent’s permission.” Marcus promises as he reaches for the hand that is not clutching the blanket protectively. “And today is a celebration. Of life, and love.” He tells you softly.

"Oh my god." It's just about all you can think to say as you choke on a fresh round of tears and tighten your fingers in his hand.

“I know.” Marcus flashes you a grin. “Sweetheart, there is no one else I want by my side, confiding in, planning for the future and sharing part of my soul with.” He promises you. “I love everything about you and there is not one thing that I could possibly imagine changing. I love your loyalty to friends and family, your work ethic and your tenacity. Your tender heart and your penchant for dreaming.” He takes a big breath, clearly saying your full name. “Will you marry me?”

He can barely finish the question before your thick, cracking voice is chirping endless yeses. Before you're crumpling to your knees to kiss him, cradling the blanket between you as delicately as if the baby was already wrapped in it. "I love you" gets mixed in with all the "Yes!" and more "Oh my god" as if you can't quite believe that it's finally happening. From the moment that the two of you individually became a unit, you've both known that this was the direction you were heading in. But now that you're here? It feels even better than you could ever have guessed.

He knew your answer, he’s known it, but he still giggles in relief and cupping your cheek to kiss you. “I love you.” He promises softly, pecking your lips again and again. He hears both Juan and Sydney sniffling happily and knows this was the right call.

For a moment the room is just happy tears and sniffles and giggling, and you’re both so jittery that you get a little mixed up in retrieving the ring box from deep inside the handmade baby blanket in your arms. Marcus had said he bought your promise and engagement rings together so they would match and of course his decision is perfect — the haloed diamond stands out over heart shaped stones of the promise ring he gave you months ago, and the fact that they’re from him makes them so perfect you could just fall apart right here in his arm.

“It was.” He admits with a modest tilt of his head. “But I think that this might be even better. “Your best friend and goddaughter got to witness it.”

“And your best friend too.” No one who ever ran into Marcus and Juan now would think they had spent so many years apart. They’re more likely to be mistaken for twins than anything else, and actually had been on a dinner out a few weeks ago.

“It makes it better than anything else.” He nods in agreement, looking over at your friends. “We are friends and family.”

“Matron of honor and best man?” It’s hardly a question, but Marcus has slipped the beautifully shimmering engagement ring onto your finger and you glance back over at your tearful friends with absolute joy. “And the tiniest, sweetest, most perfect little flower girl in the whole world?”

“The perfect flower girl.” Marcus agrees with his own emotional chuckle. “And of course they are our matron of honor and best man. What else could they possibly be?”

“Your caterer.” Syd half-complains with a pout, but it’s so half-hearted that she just ends up laughing through the tears. “Get over here and let us hug you two, and meet your goddaughter up close. Obviously we’re going to be whatever you want us to be. All three of us.”

“Not going to happen.” Marcus snorts, shooting Sydney a smile. “You’re going to participate in the reception. But…” he shrugs. “We will let you create our menu.”

“Here we go.” Juan teases, gently taking the baby blanket out of your arms to wrap up his daughter with the already precious heirloom. “Breakfast and wedding planning.” He grins down at Sydney. “I’ll get your notebook and take notes. You focus on our angel.”

Marcus laughs because he knows that’s exactly what will happen. Although there might be a little more cooing over the baby than anything else going on. As it is, he can’t wait to get his hands on her.

“I already know what wedding cake you want.” Syd grins, readjusting in her seat so this conversation can include food for everyone, including little Constance. She’s already gotten her little girl to latch once without a hellish amount of trouble so she’s hoping to do it on her own this time.

There has already been plenty of conversation about Sydney breastfeeding, but Marcus busies himself with his bag while she gets her daughter situated. It’s not because he’s weirded out, just a respect thing, giving the new mother time to get used to being exposed without feeling like she’s in a fishbowl.

“I’m covered,” Sydney assures him, after a few minutes of fussing where Marcus does anything but look directly at her. His respect level is top notch and she appreciates that about him. “Let’s talk food, please? And—” Before she can even ask, Juan is handing her a cup of water and she melts and murmurs a quiet “Thank you.”

“I just wanted to give you some time.” Marcus joins the small group, sitting down when you stand up and pulling you into his lap while Juan sits on the bed with his wife and child. “So right off the bat, what’s your first ideas?” He’s smart enough to know the final menu will be completely different from the first one.

“Americana.” You and Sydney grin at each other and you lean back in Marcus’s lap to sip your coffee while you talk. “Updated versions of classic American dishes.”

“What would that look like?” He asks, frowning in confusion. “Meat loaf?”

“Could be.” Sydney nods. “It could be things like gourmet versions of tv dinners.”

“Or it could be modern versions of older popular dishes,” you nod in agreement. “Like upscale Steak Diane or deconstructed chicken pot pie.”

“Finger foods?” Marcus asks. “I’m sure there will have to be a buffet of canapés.”

“Depends on the events.” Smiling around a sip of iced coffee, you press a kiss to Marcus’s temple a second later. “I’m thinking four.”

“Four events?” Marcus chuckles. “That’s bachelorette party, bridal shower, rehearsal dinner and wedding?”

“Maybe five,” you admit with a sheepish grin. “You said you wanted to have an engagement party.”

“I think that it’s a good place for the publicity your mom wants.” He reminds you.

“Five events is a lot, but if we space them out I think we can manage it.” Looking down at him with an absolute glow on your face, your brand new engagement ring catches the light and makes your chest swell. “What season do you want to get married in?”

“Any one you want.” It’s fair in his mind, he’s been married before and all that matters to him is that you repeat your vows in front of friends and family. What the weather is like doesn’t matter a lick to him. “I guess it depends on how fast we can get it planned?”

“Don’t do less than six months,” Juan warns. His cousin had rushed things to disastrous consequences.

“I wouldn’t.” You can totally agree to that. “My impulse would be to say a year but…I’ve kind of always liked the idea of a summer wedding.” Chewing on the idea, you turn your eyes back down to Marcus again. “Roses stop blooming at the end of the summer.”

“Early fall?” He suggests. “October? It gives us seven months. And you will more than likely have White House help.” He shrugs. “Along with mine, of course.”

“If we did October, maybe I can do a summer bridal shower in the White House rose garden?” Your eyes widen, practically begging. “I would really love to use the rose garden.”

“Then you better make sure your mom doesn’t book it for a tea party.” He teases with a wink, reaching for your hand that now holds his engagement ring. “I think October is perfect. Hell, we could do a Halloween rehearsal dinner.” He jokes.

“Don’t even tease me about that,” you huff. A Halloween event would be exactly your style. “Halloween next year is on a Wednesday, otherwise I would be begging you to get married on Halloween.”

“Baby, if that’s what you want….” He shoots Juan a grin and shrugs. “I’m okay with that.”

“I don’t want to get married on a Wednesday night.” No one parties deep into a Wednesday night in their thirties. It doesn’t feel as special to you. “How about we get married earlier in October and I talk you into visiting the Paris catacombs with me on Halloween night during our honeymoon?”

“That works for me just as easily as anything else.” Marcus promises. “Only thing I care about is you and I celebrating our love and making a public commitment to each other.”

“I love you, too.” If it were just the two of you, you would be getting dressed to run off to a soulmate chapel immediately. But promises have been made and they need to be honored, and every chance to declare your love for Marcus loud and clear is worth taking. “Any Pike family traditions we should keep in mind that I don’t know about already?”

Marcus smiles. “There’s a jewelry set that is passed down to be used in the wedding, if wanted.” He adds. “It was my great, great grandmother’s.”

“Really?” Your expression softens immediately, eyes widening a little, and you nod right away. There is no question in your mind that you’re going to wear it. “Your Mom swore to pass down some family recipes after the wedding but she never mentioned heirlooms.”

“It’s only ever offered after the engagement.” He explains. “We had a certain cousin’s wife - I’m sure you can guess who - think that it was for her to keep.”

When Sydney and Juan look equal parts amused and confused, you snicker slightly. “Hannah has very interesting thoughts about the family,” you tell them, glossing over the few less than kind things Hannah Pike had said either to you or that had been relayed to you. “Which reminds me. I’m absolutely going to ask Selena to be a bridesmaid.”

“Sydney, you will love her.” Marcus promises. “She’ll be flying out every other weekend to help you plan.” He warns you. “Or just staying out here, she can work from anywhere.”

“She’s been thinking about moving,” you admit, barely biting back a grin at how much fun it would be to have her nearby permanently. Marcus’s cousin has become one of your closest friends in the months since your first visit to Texas. “She said she wants to come see what winter is like here to make sure it’s not too bad, but her office is opening a DC branch and asked her if she would be interested in heading up the new team out here.”

“How do you know that and I don’t?” He asks, putting on a faux pout.

“Because she hasn’t told your aunt and uncle yet and she didn’t want it to get back to the family.” That grin of yours becomes full force and you kiss his temple again. “She was trying to save you from having to lie if you got asked.”

“Well, then, you didn’t say anything to me.” He mimes zipping his lips and locking them to throw away the key.

"Probably a good policy," you agree, snickering quietly even as you squeeze his shoulders tightly.

There’s a sense of lazy content in the room. Everyone slowly savors the baked goods that Marcus had brought and sips their coffee. The baby, Constance, is the noisiest of them all, her hungry sucking and grasping one that makes all the adults smile as they look at her every thirty seconds.

She is Sydney’s entire focus, and when the baby is done with her own breakfast there is a little fuss over making sure she’s burped properly before she cuddles up against her mother’s chest to have a post-meal nap. Something that makes Sydney sigh in relief and hold her close. “You’d never know how bad last night almost was by looking at her.”

“Children are resilient.” Marcus muses. “She will never remember her birth and be completely unaffected by it, while it will stay with us forever.”

“All the better.” Sydney soothes one hand over her sleeping daughter’s back.

Marcus watches the loving gesture, almost aching for the time where he can watch you soothe the children you will have together. Will you look as much like Madonna and Child like Sydney does now? He thinks it will be even more profound like undoubtedly Juan feels like it is.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

HHL: @haileymorelikestupid @anoverwhelmingdin @storiesofthefandomlovers @missladym1981 @babeincolor @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

My Masterlist!

[buckys-black-dress]

i follow you (pretend you want me to)

a/n: hey guys. i know its been a reeaaaally long time but here we are with a nice lil best friends brother bucky fic! this is what happens when your best friend has a cute older brother but you know it'll never happen.

wc: 3k words

[ best friend's brother!bucky barnes x fem!reader ]

-

You never, ever, in all in your years, imagine you would find yourself in the position you're currently in.

As someone who only recently became local to the New York City area, your best friend Rebecca has been letting you stay at her place as a favor as you search for an apartment.

It's been a bit difficult so far, as the rent is insanely expensive and you've been extremely busy with your job as a new nurse.

The other part?

Oh, right.

The fact that Rebecca lives with her shy, albeit gorgeous, older brother, James.

You've been best friends with Rebecca for 3 years now, but you both clicked so easily from the beginning, like sisters. You would spend any free weekends traveling to New York to see her, which meant staying with James when he was there.

At first, you never realized that James himself was just a quiet guy. At times, his silence made you uneasy; like he was silently judging you.

But over time, you've come to realize he just kept to himself. He was also a big homebody, but he still has a solid friend group that he goes out with from time to time.

So back to the current situation.

Rebecca had an early class she had on Fridays, and she left while telling you to make yourself at home and raid the fridge for breakfast.

So, naturally, you asked James if he'd like some, as well.

And he agreed. So you got started on a breakfast spread that Rebecca could have some of when she got back as well.

"You made so much food, Y/N. Who's gonna eat all of this?" James comes out of his room, sweatpants hanging low on his hips and a white t-shirt that may be a size too small for him.

Good god. Why am I staying here? I really need to find my own place. Fast.

"Oh, well... I felt bad. So I thought I'd make enough for Becca when she got back. It's also a thank you for letting me stay here, I guess." You justify with a timid smile.

"You know you're always welcome here, Y/N." He smiles and you feel your heart stutter.

"Thanks, James. I really appreciate it. Anyways, the food's all ready if you wanna sit and eat?"

He nods and takes his place at one of the wooden stools on the other side of the counter and you slide a plate in front of him.

"So, Y/N, I never asked you about what happened when you got home?" James poses after a few minutes of silence.

He was referring to when while you were gone for a weekend coming to see Becca, but your mom had recently found out you had gotten a tattoo on a whim while you were out with friends one weekend.

Of course, you hid it from your parents, and while you were careful to not let it show, you knew the spot wasn't too hidden and it was only a matter of time until they saw.

Your mother saw it on a faithful afternoon, and from there it spiraled.

Your dad hated tattoos, but your parents had let you get one when you first turned 18 as a one-and-done deal.

Of course, one wasn't enough.

The tattoo was on your inner upper arm, placed delicately right in the crook of your underarm. You often had to look for it to see it. It was a small envelope with a heart sealing it. It was simple and cute, on a whim you decided to get it and you loved it.

Although you didn't think every tattoo had to have some deep meaning, this one was just for you.

But alas, while you were away for a weekend, your mother had decided to tell your father about it.

It was a good thing... and a bad thing.

On one hand, you knew he was going to be extremely upset with you.

But on the other, he had a few days to process what you did while you were still gone, and you hoped this would help him calm down a little bit before you got back.

While you were with Becca, James was the one who found you in a panic about the news when your mother told you that she told your father.

"Hey, you okay?" His voice comes from across the room.

Your form on the couch is quite the sight. Eyes, bulging and wide. Shoulders squared and tense. Not a hint of a smile on your face.

"Uh- I... I am not. But that's alright. I can deal with it later." You try to laugh it off.

"No, what's wrong? Maybe I can help." He offers, and you smile at that. You wonder how a while ago, you thought he hated you. He was just a quiet person.

"I just... I'm in trouble with my parents. I got a tattoo a while back and my mom saw it, and now she told my dad while I'm here. So I think I might get my ass kicked once I get back home." You explain with a nervous laugh.

"Oh... that really sucks. What's the tattoo?" He asks curiously, and you lift your t-shirt sleeve to point it out. "That's not so bad... trust me, I've seen much worse."

"Yeah, my parents just don't love tattoos and I was only supposed to have one that they allowed, but this one was just for me, you know?" You tell him.

"I get it... I mean, you're probably gonna still get more down the line, so maybe this is a good thing. Get them acclimated to them." James laughs, and it makes you crack a smile.

"Oh," you breathed out a laugh, "it was honestly fine. He got mad for a few minutes and kind of got over it. He would get pissed when I would wear shirts where you could see it but he's pretty much past it now."

"That's good. So does that mean it's okay if you get more, or they're still gonna give you a hard time?" He wonders.

"Funny, I've actually already gotten another since then. But it's also pretty small." It was kind of ironic how big of a deal your parents made, but they just decided you were never going to listen. So now, it was just best to do whatever you wanted.

Which was to get a bunch of tattoos.

"Really? Can I see?"

The question catches you off guard for a moment, not expecting him to be so eager to ask you to see the new ink.

"Oh! Sure, it's on my back, so let me just..." Your voice trails off, quickly turning away from him to lift the back of your t-shirt that you've slept in. "I think this one is my favorite so far." Your voice is weak, feeling exposed with your entire bare back out.

The tattoo was on your back, just below your left shoulder blade. It was a unique placement to you, the wording you've chosen going vertically rather than horizontally.

The script reads 'golden' in the most delicate cursive, written by your grandmother. It was your first tattoo that held sentimental value, and you loved it more than anything you've ever seen.

The silence hung in the air, and you could feel his eyes lingering on the one patch of ink on your back. You wish you could look at him and see what he if he had anything particular that could give away how he was feeling.

You wanted to speak, but there seemed to be too much tension that built in your throat.

When you almost got the courage to say something, you feel a light fingertip skate right over the spot. You're pretty sure all breathing stops.

Oh, now I'm not saying anything.

"It's... it's a beautiful tattoo. Suits you well." James' voice was low and raspy, and it made you shiver. As if him being in such close proximity to you was causing him physical pain.

"Thanks..." You struggle to catch your breath. What the hell is going on?

Not once, in all your years of knowing him, has James ever made it even seem like he had any interest in you. But now... now your head was spinning and his finger was still tracing over your skin and you can't fucking breathe.

"I- uh, sorry, I should start on these dishes." You nervously spit out, somehow forming a coherent sentence.

But as you move to get out of your chair, the same hand that was on your back a few, mere moments ago was now holding your wrist. It was as if his entire hand swallowed it.

Fuck.

"Y/N." He holds your gaze a little too intently, squirming under it.

"James..."

"Did I... was that uncomfortable? Did I go too far?" He sounded nervous, and you almost wanted to cry at how sincere he sounded.

"Oh, no! No, no, James, you- no, you're absolutely fine! I- I wasn't expecting it, and you touched me, which I don't think you've ever done it like that before, and it was just a lot-"

"A lot?" James' mouth is slanting into a grin and you hate how handsome he looks, you despise how devastatingly beautiful he is.

"Don't smile at me like that, you have never once in your life smiled at me in that way and I don't think I can survive this if you're making fun of me."

"Making fun of you? Y/N, I would never-"

"Oh you so would, don't even start with that."

"Well, I wasn't doing it this time! Jus' really like your... tattoo..." The uncertainty of his voice makes you pause your spiraling thoughts for a moment, and you have to take a good look at him.

"You like it?" You take your seat next to him again, facing him.

You were closer to him than you remember before.

"Well, more than like it, but whatever." He mumbles under his breath, his eyes trained on your face.

Your breathing practically stops at his confession, not knowing what to do with this information.

But it seems like he does. His vision has not once wavered from your eyes or lips.

Why is he looking at your lips like that?

"Can I kiss you, Y/N?" James' tone is quiet, intimate.

Oh. That's why.

"Yeah." You can barely strangle out of your throat, but you needed to say it before this opportunity slipped right out of your grasp.

And before you could even suggest that he didn't have to kiss you if he really didn't want to, you feel the breath escape your lungs as James places his lips upon yours.

They're chapped, a little rough, but you don't mind it one single bit. His hands come to envelop the sides of your face, and you think you could become a puddle on the stool, right there and then.

For a moment, you feel like none of this was real. What are the odds, your best friend's extremely cute older brother, who you've found attractive for some time now, is kissing you? The same one who has always acted indifferent around you? The one you thought saw you as nothing?

When you finally, (begrudgingly,) pull away from him, you have to take a moment to yourself; your eyes stay closed. Maybe this was all a dream and you've been imagining this whole thing.

"Open your eyes, Y/N. I wanna see those pretty E/C eyes." James doesn't demand, but his tone makes you want to open your eyes.

As your gaze is fixed on him, you wonder what he's thinking. What did he think of that kiss? Did he like it? Was it something he wanted to do again? Did he absolutely hate it and never wanted to see you again?

"I can sense you're spiraling in there, sweetheart. What's going on up there?" His hand is caressing the side of your face, and you feel like you could melt just there and then. A puddle on a stool in the kitchen is how Rebecca will find you when she gets back.

"I... I don't know. All I can think about is your hand on my face right now." Is what you can bring yourself to answer with right now.

"Do you like my hand being there? Or would you like me to move it?"

"No, please don't move it. I don't know what'll happen if you do." You sigh dramatically, and it elicits a smile from him.

"What do you mean?"

"What if you move your hand and suddenly I wake up and this was all some cruel dream? What if this isn't real and it's all in my head right now?" You ask, quite pathetically, you admit.

"It's not a dream, angel. I kissed you. You let me. And I think now would be the appropriate time for me to ask you something." James says gently, like the bubble around you two will burst if he speaks any louder.

Your brow furrows in question, and you nod for him to go on.

"Would it be alright if I asked you out? On a real date? I've been wanting to take you out for a while now... and I think now's a good time to ask." He smiles that smirk again, and you want to melt all over again.

"I would really, really love that, James." You feel like you're floating right now, like it's too good to be true. "Can I tell you something funny?" He nods.

"I've... I thought you were cute from the day I first met you. But you always acted so... indifferent around me, so I never thought I even stood a chance, and I kinda gave up on the idea you'd ever see me that way. But now... I think this is one of the best days of my life."

A moment of silence passes between you two.

"Y/N... the first time Becca introduced me to you, I thought to myself, 'She's the most gorgeous person I've ever seen.' And from that day on, I tried to find a way to talk to you, but I was just a wimp. But trust me, you were running circles 'round my mind from the first day." He confesses, and you feel the blush overtake your face at his confession.

"Really, James?"

"Really, Y/N." His smile makes you believe it.

"I knew it! I knew it, I was wondering when one of you wan gonna break!' Rebecca's voice comes from the doorway of the apartment, you and James breaking apart at the yell.

"Jesus, Reb, gonna give me a heart attack one day." James mumbles.

"Shut up! Don't try and change the subject! I knew you two had a thing for each other. Did you guys kiss? Oh my-" Her dramatics continue on, and you hold back the smile while rolling your eyes.

"Well, your brother here is going to take me out on a date. Happy?" You supply, hoping it'll calm her down.

Of course, it does the opposite.

"Really? Holy shit, didn't think you had it in ya, Jamie! Good job!"

"Rebecca... please. I'm two seconds away from tackling you to the ground."

"Try your best, big guy. I can handle it!" She replies, and you stifle your giggle as James moves up from his seat and starts towards his sister.

"No!" She shrieks, running away.

"You said you could handle it!" James' voice resonates from another room she ran into.

"I lied! Stop! Leave me alone! Y/N, help!"

"Sorry, Reb. I got nothin'!" You yell out, hoping she heard you.

"Oh, I see how it is, now that he told you he likes you you're taking his side!" She runs out, James hot on her heels.

"That's right!" He confirms, flashing you a quick grin as he runs.

"James, leave her alone. I have something for you!" You hope to catch his attention, and it works when he stops right in front of you.

"What's that, pretty girl?" His arms come on either side of you on the chair and countertop as you're sat sideways on the stool.

You don't speak, just pushing yourself up to meet his lips once again, feeling him melt into you as your hands lace behind his neck to pull him down even further.

"God, now I'm gonna have to get used to this." Rebecca fakes a gag at you two.

"Yeah, you better. She's not goin' anywhere." James replies without moving his eyes off of you. "C'mon, both of you, get ready. Gotta treat both my girls to a nice cup of coffee. Ten minutes!"

As you nod, you watch him walk into his room, and Rebecca just stares at you with a maniac smile. She moves towards you and wraps you in a bone-crushing hug.

"I'm so happy for the both of you. I can't believe he finally made a move." She tells you.

"You knew?"

"I could tell. He always had that look in his eyes when you weren't looking." Rebecca explains.

"What look?" You ask, bewildered.

"Y'know... the look. The look that you can't see, but everyone else can tell. He's got hearts in his eyes and angels flying around his head." She laughs.

You can't say anything, stunned by her words, but she just pats your shoulder and motions for you to get ready.

"C'mon, let's get you dressed, or we'll never hear the end of it from him."

"I heard that!" James' voice echoes from his room, and you both laugh.

As you walk into Rebecca's room, you can't help feel like you're finally whole. Like you aren't crazy, and that maybe... just maybe... there really is someone for everyone.

[avengerscompound]

The Interview - Chapter 23

The Interview - A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Rating:  E

Warnings: nothing

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Melody Danes

Word Count: 1857

Summary:  Melody Danes gets the break of a lifetime when as a lowly intern, she’s assigned to write a profile piece on Captain America.  Steve Rogers is a hard man not to fall for and as she and Melody get closer and Melody’s career takes off, jealousy leads to sabotage, and the potential to bring her whole world crashing down.

Chapter 23

The plane touched down in Eugene just after midnight.  It was too late to rent a car, so Melody’s brother came to pick them up.  Because they were landing at a private hangar, he could drive onto the tarmac to meet them.  It was funny to come down from a private jet to be met by an early 2000s Dodge pickup.

Melody and Steve approached her brother as the crew loaded the bags into the pickup.  She worried things might be weird between them.  The fight had never been with her brother, but they hadn’t spoken much outside of Facebook and Instagram since she’d moved out.  She’d always worried that he’d taken their side in all of this.

Instead, he came straight to her, pulling her into a tight hug.  “Oh my god, it's so good to see you!”

She hugged him back, relaxing into his embrace.  “You too.  I missed you.  Thank you for coming to get us.”

“Of course, I wouldn't leave you stranded,” he said.

You pulled away and gestured to Steve.  “River, this is Steve.  Steve, River.”

Steve stepped forward and offered River his hand.  “Pleasure to meet you,” he said. 

River was tall enough to look Steve in the eye but he was lankier and more wirey than her boyfriend.  He was wearing his hair in twists and had a goatee.  He also had some new ink that Melody had never seen before.  She wondered how her parents had reacted to that.  He took Steve’s hand and shook it.  “It’s all mine, Cap,” he said.

Steve chuckled and shook his head. “Steve is fine.”

“Come on you two,” Melody said. “I don’t want to freeze my ass off on the tarmac.”

For Steve’s sake, Melody climbed into the back seat and he got into the front passenger beside River.  She stretched out in the back seat and rested her head against the window, wishing there was a pillow she could use.  It had been such a long day and she just wanted to pass out.  She closed her eyes anyway, listening to the engine and Steve and River’s conversation in the front as she rested in the back.

“How far are we going?” Steve asked.

“It’ll be just under an hour.  We’re a bit out.  Not too bad though,” River replied.  “Mom and Dad will be asleep when we get in.  So you won’t get to meet them until tomorrow.”

“That’s fine,” he said. “Meeting your girlfriend’s parents is hard enough without having to do it in the middle of the night.”

“That’s true,” he said.  “But they’re excited to meet you.  And to see Mel.  It’s been a while.”

“Melody and River are very unique names,” Steve said.

River laughed.  “They’re not too bad, thankfully.  But yeah - I think Mom and Dad enjoyed the 60s quite a lot.”

“There was a huge free love movement in the 60s,” Melody piped up from the back.  “Lots of people fighting authority and authoritarian rule.  One of the side effects was people giving their kids names that felt like they were connected to the Earth mother.”

Steve chuckled. “Right.  I guess that makes sense.  Though it seems extra confusing with the whole…”

He trailed off.  Melody knew how that sentence ended.  With the whole incident where they wouldn’t allow their trans niece to move in with them after her parents rejected them.

“Yeah,” River said, his voice dropping a half-octave.  “No one can quite work that one out.”

There was a heavy pause in the air and after a little while it seemed to get a little uncomfortable for Steve.  “So what do you do, River?” he asked.

Melody dozed as she listened to their small talk in the front.  River’s new internship at the Portland Art Museum.  What it was like to wake up in the twentieth century.  At one point River just spoke about how overrated Voodoo Donuts was for ten minutes and then ended with saying he’d drive out there and get some so that Steve could see for himself.

She sat up when the tires began to crunch on gravel.  She blinked and stretched.  The porch light was on but otherwise, the whole place was dark.  The shape of the peaked roofs was just visible in the gloom.  Looking at it in the dark made her stomach twist into knots.  This week had been so terrible with work and his fans and now she was back at her childhood home.  A place she hadn’t returned to in almost a decade after a fight that had left her homeless for over a month.

“You’re really far out, huh?” Steve said as River pulled into the garage.

“Oh, yeah,” River said.  “Dad had this dream to build a house in the country.  This is it.”

“There’s animals,” Melody said. “I’ll show you around tomorrow.”

They grabbed their bags and went inside.  A light was on in the hall, but otherwise, the house was completely dark. Two white German Shepherds greeted them, Melody had only seen them in pictures and she crouched down and held her hands out to try and introduce herself to the dogs.  When River patted and told them they were good dogs, they relaxed and came to investigate Melody and Steve.  “I’m gonna head to bed,” River whispered.  “I’ll see you in the morning.  Nice to meet you again, Steve.”

“You too.  Sleep well,” Steve replied.

“Night, Riv,” Melody whispered.

When Melody eventually pulled herself away from the dogs, she led him down the hall to her old childhood room.  It was just as she’d left it.  Her bookshelf was filled with so many books they were two deep in places, and a collection of stuffed animals sat on top.  Her desk had a stack of papers on it and several novelty pens in a mug with a carebear on it.  Her old desktop computer and printer were still there too.  She’d taken her comforters with her when she’d moved out, so the bed had been made up with some new bedding she didn’t recognize.  She was grateful that she’d upgraded to a full bed when she was in high school because even a full was going to be a squeeze with Steve.  If she’d had a twin bed, someone would be sleeping on the floor.

Steve was completely fascinated by her room.  He walked around it slowly, picking things up and turning them over.  “I can’t believe I’m in your childhood room.

“Different from yours I bet,” she said.

He nodded.  “Very.  I did have a lot of books too.  But I used to stick my art to the walls.”

“Well, next best thing,” she said and pulled open the top drawer on her desk.  Inside were stacks and stacks of notebooks, all filled with her writing.  Poems.  Short stories.  Novels both finished and unfinished.  Screenplays.  Fanfiction.  Thousands of words of erotica, written before she had a real understanding of sex, and full of misguided tropes and physical impossibilities.

Steve pulled the one at the top out and flicked through the pages. “This is all your writing?” he asked.

“It sure is,” she said as she started to get undressed.

“Can I read some of it?”

She scrunched her nose. “It was all written before I left the house, which was a few months before I went to college.  So it’s pretty cringey.  And also probably very bad.”

He shrugged.  “I know, but I’d still like to.  Not all of it.  But I’d just like to see.”

“Okay,” she said.  But not now.  Let me find some that aren’t terribly embarrassing.”

He chuckled and came over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and drawing her in.  “How are you doing?”

She shrugged a little.  “I feel a little sick if I’m honest,” she said. “Like my stomach is eating itself.  I’m so worried about tomorrow.  I don’t know if I should try and just pretend nothing happened so we can get through Thanksgiving and you’ll have met them and I’ll go back to New York and nothing will have changed, only we’ll tentatively be back in each other’s lives in some superficial way.  Or if I should confront them and try and get past this because they really hurt me and if they still feel like what they did was the right thing, I don’t want them in my life.”

He wrapped his arms around her so that one hand was pressed to her cheek and the other was on her hip, and he pulled her in tight, resting his chin on the top of her head.  “Whatever you want to do, I’ll support you.  I hope you know that.  If you want to start the day with a big cathartic confrontation and it doesn’t go the way you’ve planned, we can fly back to New York and have Thanksgiving with our friends.  If you just want to play nice and get through it without any arguments, I’ll smile and make small talk and you can vent to me anytime we’re alone and I’ll nod along and sympathize.  I’m here for you, Mel.”

He pulled back and looked down at her.  “And I get it all.  I grew up in a home of abuse.  I behaved just to get along sometimes.  And I made waves when I thought that was needed too.  I know how tricky family can be to navigate.”

She got up onto her tiptoes and pecked Steve’s lips.  “I love you so much, Steve Rogers.”

“I love you too, Melody Danes,” he said.

He snuggled into his chest again, just listening to his heartbeat and letting it soothe her.  He held her not rushing her along, not trying to make it anything.  He just held her and he didn’t let her go until she was pulled back from him.  “We should really get ready for bed.  It has to be creeping towards two.”

“Good idea.  Where’s the bathroom?” he asked.

She pointed him across the hall and while he washed up, she changed into her pajamas and put her hair into a bonnet.  When Steve came out they traded places, and by the time she crawled into bed, she felt a little less nauseated but exhausted down to her bones.

“You’re probably going to wake up before I do,” she said, as she maneuvered herself so that she was tucked in close to Steve, with her head in the crook of his arm.

“I know,” he said.  “I usually am.”

“You can wake me up if you need to.  You shouldn’t have to meet my parents by yourself.”

He hummed and pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’ll see how I go tomorrow,” he said.  “Don’t worry about me, sweetheart.  Just get some sleep.”

She leaned up and pecked his lips.  “How did I get so lucky?”

“I’ve been asking myself that since you agreed to go out with me,” he replied.  “Night, Mel.”

“Night, Steve,” she whispered.  She closed her eyes, and despite how much stress she was still holding on to, or maybe because of it, she was asleep almost immediately.

// NEXT

[mpregjohnwinchester]

You KNEW my prompt was gonna include pregnancy lmao but I’m gonna say samdean accidental pregnancy — your choice if Dean or Deanna, your choice which season but I wanna see Dean(na) confessing to Sam that s/he’s knocked up!

here you go mate <3 (sorry for sneaking my deanna and david bowie headcanon in here but i had reason to believe you wouldn't mind xD - and exploring this pushed me nicely out of my comfort zone so thank you for the prompt!)

The skies over the salvage yard are pink with shepherd's delight clouds.  The evening breeze has a little bite, and the air smells like rotting oil and dead leaves. The latter scent is one Sam associates with shoplifting school supplies, with the good coffee shops opening up on campus again. It's an awkward nostalgia, but it comes to him anyway as he buttons up his shirt for warmth and makes a start on staking out the boulevard of broken cars, armed with two bottles of El Sol and a mental note of all the phrases he's learned not to say. Deanna's gotta be out here somewhere.

The thing is, Sam thinks as he passes the nearly restored Impala, it had seemed like his sister was doing a little better. She's still sharp tongued and irritable, but she's not been spending 12 hours a day doing god knows what under that hood. She's been hanging out with Sam and Bobby more in the evenings, not really saying much, but sometimes she smiles with her whole face at something someone says, and Sam's always a little surprised at the force of his relief. She's even been talking a bit about getting out on the road again, even if she never directly mentions Dad; but Sam's caught her quietly leafing through his journal now and then lately. Not that he's said anything about it, because that's just asking for trouble; and anyway, regardless of any improvement, Sam still has no idea what's going on in Deanna's head, really. She feels very far away.

She went out this afternoon. For hours. Didn't say where she was going; but it's got to be the first time she's left Bobby's place in weeks. She left her phone behind on the nightstand, in this way that Sam couldn't help but suspect was intentional, because there had to be something about that; had to be something in the way Deanna caught Sam's eye through the window as she was coming back, coming all slow down the path with Dad's jacket over her shoulders and this tight expression on her face. Something in the way Deanna had sharply changed direction at the sight of him, veering off until she faded into the salvage yard and Sam couldn't see her anymore. And it's not that Sam meant to be hovering near the front of the house at the exact moment of her return like a worried parent, but shit happens.

Let her be, son, Bobby had said, without looking up from his scotch and that leatherbound demonology book he'd been annotating all day. Harder you push, the more she's gonna clam up.

It bothers Sam when Bobby talks like that, like he knows Deanna better than Sam does or something. As for letting her be - well, if Bobby knows Sam at all, he's got a strange way of showing it.

As Sam goes deeper into the yard, he can hear music. Tinny, faint; but Sam recognizes David Bowie. He spent enough time being subjected to every single tape the guy ever made, even the really out there ones, over and over again as a kid to know that voice anywhere. That had been one of Deanna's more intense phases. Sam thinks she finds him comforting now, maybe; familiar, well worn, like an old blanket. She'd deny that, of course, the way she always denies shit that she thinks sounds girly, or maybe just vulnerable - but it hadn't been lost on Sam over the past year, how Deanna would play those tapes during nearly every overnight drive they took. Her hands always a little too tight on the steering wheel, Dad's unknown whereabouts breathing down the backs of their neck like a spirit.

Sam follows that bustling piano, ch-ch-changes, until he finds his sister. She's sitting on the floor, leaning against the dented door of an eighties truck with a mangled hood. The windows are down. The music is coming from inside.

Dad's jacket is so big over Deanna's shoulders. It practically drowns her, looks kind of ridiculous, if Sam were to be mean about it; still smells like Dad's cigarettes. Deanna doesn't look up, when Sam approaches, but she doesn't hide her face or snipe at him to fuck off either. Which means this is already going well.

"Hey." Sam says it cautiously. "What are you doing out here?" 

Her eyes roll up at him. "Making bacon and eggs, jackass. What's it look like I'm doing?"

Sam doesn't know, actually. Still, he takes the sarcasm on the chin. He holds one of the beer bottles out to Deanna; she glances at it, then shakes her head.

It surprises Sam, but he doesn't push. "You look like crap," he offers.

Deanna snorts. "Well. Don't you know how to make a girl feel special."

There's no bite in it. That tells Sam they're okay. She does, though; look like crap, that is. Tired; washed out. She's been sleeping in the day a lot. Bobby says it's the grief, that she needs it. Sam could believe that. He wonders, though, if Bobby's heard Deanna throwing up in the night lately. Not just one of her tactical upchucks to stave off a hangover, because she's not been drinking all that much lately; but these real hacking puke sessions that jolt Sam out of sleep in the early hours of the morning. She never comes back to her bed afterwards. And Sam has his suspicions about that too, like with the left behind phone; it's Deanna's way of not giving him a chance to pry. She knows how thin the wall between the bathroom and the spare bedroom is.

"Can I sit?" Sam asks.

Deanna shrugs. It's as good as permission.

Sam lowers himself down beside her, gets comfy on the rough gravel. He puts down the beers; doesn't feel much like drinking by himself.

They sit in silence for a while. Puts Sam on edge; but it's hard to know what to say to Deanna most of the time these days, which isn't a position he's ever been in before. Then again, they've never been in the position of losing their father before, so there's that. It still doesn't feel real. It probably never will.

"Keys were still in the ignition," Deanna says, nodding up towards the truck. "Tapedeck works. Engine's salvageable. Bobby's way too quick to junk these babies. Upsets me."

Sam smiles. "Dare you to say that to his face."

"Hey, maybe I will. If he gave me half a day with this death trap I'd get her purring again. Turn her into a whole new woman."

She folds her arms, tilts her head back against that dented door. Her eyes are kinda pink and bleary.

"You should see the tapes in the glove compartment," she adds. "'S a fucking goldmine.

"Is this Hunky Dory?" Sam asks.

Deanna raises an eyebrow. "Wow. And there I was thinking you weren't paying attention all this time."

"You didn't exactly give me a choice. You only played this album every day for like ten years."

Deanna grins. "I'm proud of you, Sammy. I knew you'd learn to love it eventually."

"Love is a strong word," Sam replies.

Deanna snorts again. Something like affection passes over her face. Sam hasn't seen that in a while.

"I lost this album years ago," Deanna says. "Think it ended up with Dad, maybe. You know how our stuff used to always get mixed up." 

Sam's a little stunned. And maybe it shows, because Deanna narrows her eyes at him. "What?"

"Nothing." He swallows - "Just that you, uh, mentioned Dad."

"Yeah. So?"

It's quick, defensive enough for Sam to know to shut up. He's getting good at that kind of thing. 

Deanna's scowl fades; she grins, lightly punches his thigh. "You creep. Quit staring at me."

Sam didn't realize he was. But if they were a different kind of people, maybe Sam would tell Deanna how pretty she looks under the dying sunlight, under those pink, glowy clouds; but he wouldn't really know how to put something like that, and Deanna would never let him live it down if he said it aloud anyway. So he keeps it to himself. Instead, he watches Deanna pull at a spooling thread from her shirt sleeve peeking out from beneath Dad's jacket.

"You know," Deanna says, "being out here always reminds me of us being kids. Bobby letting us play in the yard until the sun went down. Bringing us lemonade. Do you remember?"

Sam smiles. "Yeah, Dee. Of course I remember."

Deanna carries on like she wasn't expecting an actual response. "We'd never had homemade lemonade. Remember how I used to try to make it for you when we got back on the road? Mine always kinda sucked, though."

Sam feels a little on edge, hyper aware of everything his body is doing, like he's trying not to spook a wild gazelle. This is the most Deanna has spoken in weeks. "You tried," he offers, because she did, Deanna always tried so hard with stuff like that. He hasn't thought about Deanna's crappy lemonade in years. With Bowie warbling about life on mars on the stereo, and the memory of Deanna's sticky too-bitter attempt alive on his tongue, it feels like it's 1992 again.

Deanna keeps pulling at that thread. "You know, back when I used to watch you - I was, I dunno, maybe ten or eleven. And you were so - you were so damn innocent, you know? Just really cute, I guess."

"Cute?" Sam echoes.

"Yeah." There's this tight, half-smile on her mouth that Sam can't quite read. "You were so curious about shit all the time. Always wanting me to tell you stories. Always getting yourself scraped and bruised because you couldn't stop fucking climbing stuff." 

Sam isn't sure what to say. There's something about remembering himself as a child that makes him uncomfortable. Maybe it's the idea of being so small and so helpless; or maybe it's the memory of that hard-to-place unease that lived inside of him like blood from the moment he was fully sentient, that gut-deep sense that something about his life - his family, his barely present Daddy - just wasn't right.

"You were a pain in the ass," Deanna continues, with this fond chuckle. "Asking me questions all the time. Wanting to know how every little thing in the world worked. If I didn't know the answers, I'd just make 'em up. You believed everything I said." She clicks her tongue. "Man, do I miss that."

Why are we talking about this? Sam nearly asks. But that runs the risk that Deanna will snap shut like an oyster, and Sam will never get the answer at all. So he keeps his mouth closed. He lets Deanna carry on.

"Sammy, I used to -" She trails off, looking weirdly sheepish. "This is so so fucking weird, but like - when I was watching you, I used to wish you were actually my kid. And you - you kinda were, you know? Felt like you were mine... mine just as much as you were Dad's."

Dad, again. Sounds so unfamiliar in Deanna's voice now that it takes Sam a moment to process the revelation that came before it. "You did? Seriously?" is all he manages.

"Yeah." She's looking at her lap. Still that tight half-smile. "Seriously."

And Sam struggles to know what to do with that, what it means. Because it's hard, lately, for Sam to be angry with his father about much; makes him feel almost empty, actually, after a lifetime of nursing this near-addictive resentment over things he never fully understood. And of those things, Deanna - getting her stuff mixed up with Dad's, being so intertwined with him, resembling her martyred mother so much Dad could never stop commenting on it - Deanna seeing Sam as her own, apparently - well, he doesn't know. Sometimes Deanna just says shit. He probably isn't meant to read into it.

And besides, Sam doesn't know anything for sure. Always felt like he never really wanted to. And as he's already made his choice to love his father, he needs to keep it that way.

Deanna shuts her eyes, then. They're puffy under her lashlines, kissed with gray. "I mean," she says, "Don't get me wrong. You annoyed the crap outta me sometimes." She shrugs, hard, like a defence to an attack Sam hasn't made. "I - I do know that, Sammy. I know there was times I coulda been nicer to you." She looks a little pained.

"We were just kids Dee," Sam offers. "Not like either of us were exactly saints." 

"I keep remembering," Deanna continues, in that way, like Sam hadn't spoken again, "There was this time Dad kind of - got caught up in something. Still don't know what. But he wasn't home when he said he'd be. We were running out of everything. Food, money. No one was answering the phone. And you - you were driving me insane, Sammy."

Deanna says the last part a little too quietly; her head bows, hair covering her face. And Sam thinks he knows where this is going. He's getting a little uneasy.

"You just - you kept on and on with your damn questions. 'Where's Dad? What does he do while he's away? When's he coming back?' Then you - you asked about Mom."

"Deanna-"

She shakes her head, cutting him off. Something bitter on her lips, not quite a smile. "Who punches a five year old in the face, Sammy? I can't believe I -"

"You were only nine, Dee." Sam reminds her, when she doesn't finish the sentence. "You didn't know any better."

And it's true; Dad made sure of that, with his shoot first, ask questions later manifesto. But Deanna would never see it that way. She just laughs, colorless, bitter. "Yeah. I did. I shoulda, at least. I just -" She huffs. "Sometimes it feels like I just - I couldn't stop screwing up."

"You were doing it all by yourself." As the words leave his mouth, Sam registers how they sound. Like something you'd say about a single mom, some divorced thirty something with three kids, working two jobs to keep everyone fed and clothed. Not a nine year old.

"I guess -" Deanna sucks in a breath. "I just think about that a lot. That's all."

There's this dread growing inside of Sam as he watches Deanna's mouth twist up; she blinks, angrily. "Are you - crying?"

"Shut up," she mumbles.

She turns her face away a little. Draws her knees up to her chest. And it's strange and unsettling for Sam to see, like a horse walking on its hind legs or something; because Deanna doesn't cry, crying is for girls, and anatomy aside, she doesn't much like being seen as one of those. Even before Dad's pyre she stood, solemn and silent, breathing slow, composed. A hell of a lot more composed than Sam was, anyway.

"What's going on, Dee?"

She shrugs. That's very different to I'm fine.

And if things had been in any way close to normal over the last couple of months, Sam might touch Deanna's hand right about now. Lace their fingers; cup her face. Kiss her, maybe, the way she hasn't let him kiss her in a long time. Not since - well - not since the night they let Dad go. Sam can still remember the heat from the fire on his face, the way Deanna's hair felt grainy with ash; how her lips had tasted earthy and swollen, how she felt so small and fragile in his arms, more than she ever had. Still his big sister. Still the person he wants when he's scared and spiralling and doesn't know what to do but grab onto her, and hold on and on and on.

Deanna sniffs, loudly. "I just - I had so much on my shoulders, you know? Dealin' with you... dealin' with Dad..."

Her voice cracks a little. Sam says, "It was - it was a lot. I know." 

A lot. So much summed up in those two words, but it's not like Sam's had a lot of practise in talking about this.

Deanna laughs down at her folded knees, all thick. "You don't know, Sammy. You don't know at all. And I'm - I'm really glad you don't."

Sam isn't sure what to say to that. Partly because he can't gauge Deanna's tone, and partly because that feels like one of the most honest things Deanna's ever said to him. And now he's really worried.

"I just - I always wished I had another chance, you know? A chance to do over all those screw ups I made."

Tentatively, Sam reaches out to put a hand on her shoulder. It tenses a little beneath his fingers; but she doesn't pull away. That's good.

"I don't know where all this is coming from, Dee," Sam admits.

There's a pause, and Deanna seems to blink for a little too long. "It's - Sammy, I just keep on thinking. Dad's - Dad's gone." 

It's the first time she's actually said it. Sam swallows; throat feels a little thick. "Yeah. I know."

"And I was just getting - you get used to things being one way, you know?" She runs a hand through her hair, shiny with grease like oil slicks. "It's always like that. You start getting used to things, and then - then some other shit happens. And suddenly things are a whole new way. Before you can even fucking -"

"What do you mean?"

"Sammy, I knew something was wrong. I - I think I knew all along. But - today..."

Sam does everything in his power to keep his growing anxiety out of his voice. "Where did you go today, Deanna?" 

Her lips press together. She's still looking at her lap.

That dread expands, curdles, in Sam's gut. "Tell me."

Her hands are shaking against her thighs. "I - I went to the doctor."

That's absolutely the last thing Sam expected. "Since when do you go to the doctor?"

"I kinda had to."

Sam watches the little quiver of her fingers; and with that, he thinks back to the puking, the tiredness, how not right his sister looks. He thinks about Jess, how they were talking about what color to paint the living room 24 hours before she went up in flames on the ceiling. He thinks about Dad calmly sending him off for coffee before he…

Things are one way. Then suddenly they're another. Before you can blink, before you even remember your own name.

"Are you - are you sick?" Sam tries to keep his voice even.

Deanna isn't looking at him. "Kinda."

Sam thinks about Deanna hooked up to wires and machines. The miracle; how miracles don't happen. He's been harboring a little fear that there has to still be something wrong. A lacerated organ. A foreign object. Something they must have missed. But he thought - hoped - it was just that - a fear.

Sam sucks in a breath. "Okay. So - so what..."

Deanna smiles grimly. "Turns out I've got a parasite."

He watches Deanna shift. Her hand move towards one of the pockets of Dad's jacket. She keeps her eyes on her lap as she passes a small slip of paper to Sam. Small, rectangular. He takes it.

It's a moment or so before he realizes what he's seeing. Kind of like a photograph; a fuzzy sepia. Odd shapes that slowly begin to make sense.

"Ten weeks," Deanna says, her voice a little hoarse with disbelief. "I'm - I'm ten fucking weeks pregnant, Sammy."

Sam stares numbly at that ultrasound still. At the shapes, like two beans stacked on top of each other. Faint, fuzzy lines. Tiny arms. Tiny legs. He stares at them until they blur.

Ten weeks. Ten weeks since -

"So it's - " Sam can't finish the sentence.

"Yeah, Sammy. It's yours."

Her voice sounds very far away. And Sam can smell ash and fumes, traces of hospital grade body wash on Deanna's skin, skin that was bruised all over from cannulae and wires; and Sam couldn't catch his breath because Dad was gone, the last of him was just yards away on that burnt out pyre, gone; and Deanna's hands were on his face, tangled up in his hair, forehead pressed against his, and she was straddling his lap in the Impala's backseat, her eyes shut, muttering ssh, ssh over and over, maybe to Sam, or maybe to herself, but she kept saying it, even through the long kisses she kept pressing to his mouth; and Sam remembers he could barely see, he felt like he was choking on that ashy air, but he had Deanna, and he needed Deanna, he'd never needed her so much in his entire life. And Deanna understood, the way she's always understood things like that; and Deanna had kept on with her kissing and ssh-ing as she moved on top of him, fast, desperate, and Sam had clung onto her waist and met each roll of her hips, fast, anguished, because he couldn't get close enough, deep enough; and Deanna had been making these pitchy, breathless sounds like she was in pain, but she didn't stop Sam, and the whole time her eyes were wide and fixed on his face; and Sam remembers tangling her hair around his fingers like rope, he remembers arching up against her as he came, his body going through the motions, his senses numb to it. That numbness hasn't really left him since.

"Sammy, say something."

Deanna's voice, strained, cuts through the memory. Hauls Sam back to the present; Bowie, rotten oil, dead leaves. That autumnal breeze. His sister's face, tight and worried. Sam recognizes that pallor a little more now: shock.

It's passing through Sam as well. Of all the things he expected - this was nowhere on the list. Nowhere close.

"Alright," he manages eventually. Amazed at how calm he sounds. "What do you wanna do?" Because that's the thing to ask, right?

Deanna's lips twist again. "I mean - like, right away, I thought about just - you know - going off and taking care of it. Not even telling you. Just - "

"You wouldn't have told me?"

"I said I thought about it, Sam." She clicks her tongue; another rough wipe of her eyes. "I'm telling you now, aren't I?"

Sam keeps staring. Staring, at that image. That tiny, tiny baby. 

"Is that what you want?" he manages, eventually. Hoarse as Deanna. "To - take care of it?"

Deanna's pause seems to roll around the length of the yard. Then, her eyes stray to her lap again. "You know, Dad used to lecture me about this shit. Made it very clear how disappointed he'd be if I ever accidentally got myself knocked up."

Sam says, "Really?"

"Yeah. All the time." There's something acidic in Deanna's voice. "And you know why he harped on about it so much?"

"Why?"

"Because he said it wouldn't be fair to bring a kid into all this. Into the life." Deanna laughs, this flat, one-note thing. Something sharp flashes through her eyes; something gone too quick for Sam to fully identify. "Can you believe he said that to me? After everything he..."

She stops. And Sam watches Deanna's face reset, as if she hadn't expressed something like anger towards Dad for the first time ever. Something like what Sam has been saying, feeling, thinking, ever since he was old enough to understand. Everything Deanna always denied.

"It wouldn't have to be the same." It comes out of Sam's mouth before he can catch up with it. "You know. The same as we had it."

Deanna keeps on looking at her lap.

"You -" Sam takes a breath. "You know that, right?"

Deanna sighs. More like the breath whipping out of her body. "I'm not gonna stop looking for the demon, Sammy."

She says it like she expected Sam to insist on it. He clarifies: "I'm not saying we do. I'm saying we make it work."

He has no idea how. No fucking idea. His brain hasn't quite absorbed what's in front of him yet, the news undigested; but he's certain, somehow, of that.

Deanna gives that odd laugh again. Sam isn't sure what it means, this time. "It's also..." She picks at that thread on her shirt again. "I mean, the doctor said it looked healthy. But what if it comes out and it's like, a cyclops or something?"

"Why would it be -"

Deanna's shoulders rise. "You've seen Deliverance, right?"

Oh.

Sam swallows. His eyes stray back to the picture. Not that he can see much; not that there's much to see. But there's enough there for Sam to think it looks absolutely perfect.

"There are risks," is all he can think to say. "But it's - you know. It's not completely inevitable."

Deanna narrows her eyes. "You've already looked this stuff up, haven't you?"

She says it in this accusatory way. Sam runs his thumb delicately across the grainy image. "There was always a chance this could happen, Dee."

Always a chance. They've never done much to mitigate it, really. There's not enough space in Sam's brain right now, to wonder why that is.

Deanna skips over it too. Runs a hand through that greasy hair. Her lips twist.

"I just think," she says, after a while, "even if it comes out with three heads, playing a fucking banjo... would I care? You know?"

She's still not quite meeting Sam's eyes. Sam prompts, "Would you?"

"I mean. It's not like it'd be the only freak in this family, right?" A smile spreads across her mouth. "Sammy, you know I wouldn't care. I'd -I'd love it no matter what."

"Me too." It comes out thick; Sam's never been more sure of anything in his life.

He hands Deanna back the picture; takes her hand, deceptively delicate and cold in his, as he watches her eyes fog up with tears again. She doesn't hide this time; leans in to press her forehead against Sam's, just like that night ten weeks ago, just like they've come full circle. And fuck, it feels like forever since Sam's been touched like this, touched by anyone; he's just wondering if leaning in for a kiss would be pushing it, when he feels Deanna's plump, dried out lips brushing his. They feel a little sticky, and there's this malodor to her breath, but Sam barely registers it. It's like coming home.

I missed you, he doesn't say; can't, when Deanna's mouth would smother it anyway. When Deanna would only screw her face up and call him a big girl, and he'd rattle with guilt about feeling a little humiliated by that, but he'd feel it anyway.

Deanna pulls away first. She's a little flushed, and Sam can faintly see the capillaries in her face, like pink lines on a map under her skin; she squeezes his hand, laces their fingers. Moves them together until Sam's palm is flat against her stomach, the warmth of her body underneath that worn flannel.

"I keep thinking I can feel it," she whispers. "Now I know it's there."

Sam watches their interlaced hands dumbly. Overwhelmed. He can too.

"I kinda hope it's a girl." Deanna's voice has that hoarse quality again. "So I can - so she can have a Mom. So she can have what I didn't have."

She says it at the exact moment Sam finds himself hoping it's a boy. His reasons are similar. But for someone who doesn't like to talk, Deanna's always been way better at articulating stuff like that.

"You'll be a great Mom, Dee," he says, firmly. You were to me.

"Alright. You don't need to kiss my ass." Deanna ruffles his hair, like she did when she kissed him goodnight as a kid.

It takes Sam a moment to find his voice again. "I mean it, Dee. We'll make it work." He says it with this conviction that rises up from somewhere deep. "And I'm gonna be here for you, alright? Every step of the way."

Deanna groans. "Jesus Christ. I knew you'd be like this."

But she's smiling. And Sam allows himself to as well.

"Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

“You know Dad would kill us, right? But man, do I wish he was here right now.”

She says it with a laugh in her voice, her face all twisted up; and Sam can't help but remember how he and Jess had talked about kids, vaguely, sometimes, kind of like a concept, a distant dream. How Sam had thought to himself about Dad a lot then, too, the way he never really stopped thinking about Dad and Deanna. He remembers wondering to himself whether Dad would be proud. Whether he'd even want a grandkid; if he'd want to know at all. Back then, Sam genuinely toyed with the idea that Dad wouldn't even care. Never come back, Sam.

It's not the same, now. Holy fuck, this is not the same, and it can probably only be a good thing that Dad's not here to know about this; so Sam pushes away the thought. He puts his arms around Deanna's waist and pulls her as close as he dares.

"It'll be okay," he says again, because he can't think of anything else. Because it has to be.

Deanna's looking at him kinda intently. "Sam, do you think this is Dad's way of like - you know - coming back?"

"Uh - what?"

Deanna shrugs. "Dunno. Just - hormones talking, I guess." She squeezes Sam's hand against her stomach. "Forget I said anything."

Sam's not sure he can. They don't say anything after that.

[uramilf]

can you write a ross x singer reader where the reader is pregnant and they have been keeping their relationship on the low so when they make it official their fans are completely shocked

A/N: Yes this is actually adorable

Ross came into your shared bedroom and lay down on the bed beside you. You groaned as he woke you up; you already weren't getting enough sleep with the baby on the way, nausea waking you up at least twice every night. He had been playing a show at a venue that wasn't too far away, so he was able to come straight home to you. "Sorry, babe, I didn't mean to wake you," he whispered. "It's ok, love. How was the show?" "Good. Really great, actually. The boys want to know how you're feeling." "Like I'm growing a human inside of me," you grinned. "So not fabulous." Ross smiled sympathetically. "I know it's tough, darling, but the sickness will be over soon and-" "And then the extreme back pain and the kicking and the constant intense pressure on my bladder will start," you interrupted him with a laugh. "God, it's really a joyful experience, isn't it?" Ross rubbed a hand over your stomach and kissed you. "I know darling. You're so brave, you know that?" "It'll all be worth it anyway when little baby Macdonald gets here, right?" Ross agreed and kissed you again, before asking how your day had been. "Oh, it was alright. I went down to Costa earlier for a coffee and when I got back there was some paparazzi photos online - and get this; my baby bump was totally showing and nobody's even noticed yet." "Really? I thought The Sun would be all over you the second you started showing." "I know. I have to say, people are gonna lose their minds when they eventually find out." Just then, Ross's phone rang. "Oh, it's Matty. Must've forgot something in my car." But Matty's voice sounded panicked. "Y/n, have you been on Twitter recently?" he blurted out. "No, why? Matty? What's happened?" "Fuck. I'm sorry guys, I know you wanted to keep your relationship and the baby a secret for a while longer, but some photos have come out of the two of you leaving my house on Sunday. Everyone knows." You thanked Matty for letting you know and hung up the phone. Ross was already scrolling through the photos on Twitter, but to your surprise, he wasn't annoyed. He was smiling. "Oh, babe, all your fans are so excited for you, look at these comments!" he beamed. You had a look through the photos yourself now. There was one of Matty with a hand on your stomach, saying bye to his future niece or nephew, and one of George doing the same. There was one of Ross placing a kiss on your head with an arm around your waist, and one of him helping you into the car, where your slight baby bump was visible. You scrolled through some comments and smiled as widely as Ross had.

"Oh my god! I can't believe two of my favourite people in the world are literally having a baby together!! I've shipped them ever since that photo of them dancing together at a Taylor Swift concert came out."

"Look at Y/n's little baby bump, she's actually fucking glowing."

"AWWW another '75 baby! I hope they're best friends with Adam and Carly's kid. Y/n and Ross make such a gorgeous couple."

The comments made your eyes fill with tears when you realised that both your fans and Ross's were over the moon for you. It wasn't long until the calls came flooding in, from your friends who weren't aware of your pregnancy yet, Matty's mum, even Carly who already knew but wanted to let you know she was always there for you for some mum-to-mum advice. You looked at Ross with a big smile on your face before you went back to sleep that night. "Can you believe we're gonna be parents?" "No, darling, I can't. You're gonna be the best mum." "I love you, Ross." "I love you too. So, so much."

[theomnicode]

Garou and Saitama: The potential for mutual, personal growth

Garou saga is over and I thought the mutual growth period for Saitama and Garou was just over and done. That we'd say goodbye for Garou for a long duration.

But on a second though...

I'm not ready to give up on the Saitama and Garou dynamic yet.

The more I think about it, the more I want it.

What was so "slowly and surely" becoming indispensable part of Saitama's character growth anyway when the moon fight happened instantly? Garou got drugged by monsterization and brainwashed by God. It was forced, it should not have happened normally. Then Saitama forgot everything that happened and no growth was technically achieved.

This is not it folks.

No, no, I want-

Actual, indispensable, mutual personal growth. For these characters.

It is honestly, more important than ever, that Saitama actually reach out to Garou and has that chat. Because of what Bang is about to do again.

Break his trust. Making Garou feel like he's all alone in the world again. That he really has nobody he can turn to with his problems that are something he wants to spare Tareo from.

Never forget that Garou has been pushed to the point of being suicidal. And there really is no better character to relate with this and help Garou heal than Saitama, who has so far successfully helped his own disciple Genos not feel like he wants to or has to self-destruct anymore. Saitama has one mark on his sleeve now, what is one more?

But this kind of help needs time, patience and close contact.

Essentially, Garou would have to become Saitama'd disciple and move in.

Even if Bang made a change of heart and suddenly stopped trying to make Garou into a hero in his stead and tried to do the exact same thing, Garou can no longer trust him.

Not completely.

Bang trying to order him around will only ever remind him of God who imposed his will onto him and so, it is in Garou's nature to resist, even if the intention was good. He does not like being ordered around. He is very willful character. Mind does not forget bad memories easily or the emotional connections.

Bang breaking his trust again, after trying to mend the bridges only serves to reinforce the notions that Bang can no longer be trusted with on a personal level, because he would just betray Garou again.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

The trust has unfortunately been broken on a subconscious level and will take more time and effort to mend. If it will ever mend when Bang betrays him again. It's not going to be fully Bang's fault, but its not like he knows what happened to Garou exactly and what was being used against him, his own visage.

Garou does not have time to mend this relationship. He needs help asap.

Saitama still owes Garou both Genos and King's lives. The lives Garou saved on his own volition. Saitama does not like to be indebted to anybody because he's highly independant.

I wonder if anybody has ever sincerely thanked Garou before for a job well done. Or valued something he has achieved. Or seen through him and who he really is as a person. It honestly does not look like it.

But this heartfelt thanks is enough to return some life to Garou's eyes. This sweet sentimentality, as much as he despises it, came through.

Saitama thinks Garou will be fine, but this will change when Bang does a major error again and parachutes him into the Hero roster without asking. And all the issues that arise from such a thing, like Garou being shown favouritism and taking the blame from other heroes for special treatment. It's not something Garou will be able to stand and he will just run away again.

These pictures tell me a thousand words about how badly Garou wishes he had someone to actually be a guiding, parental figure. Something Bang does not want to be or is not capable of being, because he has always shied away from that responsibility.

Garou ran away from his own parents who don't give two shits about him and disowned him and then found Bang. Who he thought could understand him and whom he thought he could emotionally connect with fully. And maybe be a parental figure unlike his own parents.

But Bang can't just seem to understand where he is coming from and what he actually needs or how he actually feels.

That's why when Bang asks of his girlfriend choices, Garou tells him a white lie. He's not sure of how Bang would react if he knew of his true orientation and so he can't trust him with his closely guarded secrets.

Very much in parallel to Saitama who is very much alike him, when he tells a white lie to not get caught, afraid of getting into trouble.

It plainly tells me that the emotional trust just is not there between Garou and Bang anymore and he can't tell him things he might be able to tell to a parental figure.

Enter Saitama, who has already forged one familial bond with a younger character, because it was what he thought Genos needed to heal.

Saitama has very deep ingrained paternal instincts, even if he is not otherwise motivated to do anything and he's great with guiding kids in general. He's hardwired in this direction. Paternal instinct is rooted in development, rearing/discipline, and overall guidance and Saitama has this down to a pat.

It would not only be a wholesome development, but a really funny one too, because Saitama and Garou can have a really hilarious dynamic.

They are both trolls. Garou is abrasive and smart and Saitama is witty. They both like to poke fun at other people. Both are tsunderes about things they care about. They complement each other well. Garou is more active and extroverted while Saitama is more passive and introverted. They would get along really well.

I can easily imagine Garou calling Saitama "Baldy baka" and Saitama losing his shit over that. Garou would just absolutely love to needle Saitama just to get a reaction and Saitama would answer back with his dry wit and murder Garou on the spot with words.

(I just want Garou to fondly call Saitama Baldy or Baka, sue me)

They both love food too.

In case Saitama actually took Garou in because Garou really needs a place to stay and so they can be in close contact and personal to work through their issues, at least for the time being. Saitama would go broke trying to feed 3 people however, so he would tell Garou to find a job. Garou would get motivated just because it would seem unfair to him that Saitama has to use his money to feed him. Especially because he can eat a ton.

Other types of scenarios I can easily imagine happening is Garou picking up on the fact that Genos is ultra jealous of other disciples or anybody trying to seemingly take his spot and if Garou lived in the household, he would easily see just how much Genos does for Saitama daily. And call it out plainly as the love language that it is that Saitama is so obtuse about.

Garou: This guy is totally jealous of me being here. Garou: Does he do all the chores here every day? He doesn't need to. Saitama: Huh? Whadduja mean? I do chores too. *sips drink* Garou: I bet he's just trying to get on your good side. He has the hots for you, it's so obvious. Saitama: *spits out drink* Garou: Wait, you didn't know? PPfffff, you really are a Baldy. Saitama: *catatonic*

(baldy is a word for stupid too in japanese)

Not just that though. It is not just a potentially hilarious dynamic, but a mutually highly beneficial one.

As much as Saitama can help Garou actually get back on his feet, motivate him find his own wants and needs like finding a job and finding himself, enjoy his life again and provide guidance and empathy and temperance, Garou can offer Saitama his unfaltering moral compass even at the peak of emotional high, teach him how to take criticism, share the lessons he knows in mindfulness like meditation for emotional regulation and most importantly, help motivate Saitama to actually seek personal growth for his own sake and not for other people's sakes.

He is so far the only person in the series who has managed to teach Saitama anything, when he is unmotivated and unwilling. Just by convincing Saitama with his own motivation and a look.

The inner drive is something Saitama really needs to learn too, lest he give too much of himself to other people and forgets his own needs. And Garou has self-motivation to share in spades.

Then we cannot forget the fact that Garou can teach Saitama martial arts. Or because he's that smart that he can do quantum physics on the fly based on feel alone, make Saitama figure out what his powers can actually do and help him become more in touch with himself.

If Saitama is to ever falter because his empathy and his extreme emotions get the best of him and cloud his moral judgement, I want Garou to be there as the inner critic and moral compass that he needs to get through those emotional upheavals.

Garou's inbuilt injustice radar can also help Saitama a long way to actually make the world a better place, because Garou can sniff out unfairness like a hound for everyone to see and hear about.

And he's not afraid of raising hell over those issues. Meanwhile Saitama is very non-confrontational. Issues won't disappear unless confronted.

Like true yin and yang, their mutual co-existence can complete each other to be their true selves.

That's why Saitama needs to find Garou and give him the table talk. Find out all the things that bother him since Saitama can read Garou so well. So he's able to help him and in return, Garou can help him as well.

Squandering this great dynamic feels like extremely wasteful, with the way they've been developed too.

It's not an easy road to raise an unruly teen-barely adult when you're just 25-years old yourself but hey, that's just another lesson in road of life.

[imissthembutitwasntadisaster]

Christmas update on my best girl Lailah? If there's anything more to tell, you know

Lailah, the story that this is referencing.

The problem with Lailah is that I very firmly believe that her story is best left open ended - is it a tragedy? Does she survive? Who knows!!! So unfortunately I couldn't give you anything solid as a story per se, but I hope this works? I really enjoyed writing it.

The world ended, but you knew that already.  You’re not new to this, are you? It’s good to see you alive, it’s always good to see you alive.  I hope the winter hasn’t been too cold, I hope the heels of your shoes haven’t worn through.  Mine have but it’s fine, I’ll stitch them up no worries.  Anyway, back to the end of the world. 

I’m sure you know the drill by now.  In the aftermath you’ll find, dotted all over this island, what used to be a country but isn’t anymore, hospitals, office buildings, shopping malls, service stations, all converted into homes for those left behind (although by now most of them are second or third generation, it’s been a while since the end, you see).  People grew, they changed, they gave birth and died, they settled down and formed new communities.  And twisted among these people, snaking through the buildings like wind whispers, like threads of courage, are the stories.  Thousands of stories, repeated over and over until they lose one meaning and gain another.  The heart-blood of the survivors.  Usually I’d tell you one now, something steadfast and winding that might give you hope.  But today I’m afraid I don’t have anything solid, just rumours and gossip.  Not the sorts of things people would tell at firesides, but the short accounts they toss around at midday in the five minutes of rest before they have to be somewhere. 

One community of survivors arose in what used to be a shopping centre.  They call it the Hollows and it used to be under a cruel and vicious leadership.  One dictator rose and terrorized his people for years, spewing bile and blood and rage.  He fell at the hands of another, perhaps less brutal but still ruthless, still merciless.  Like a villain in a children’s book.  Eventually the people rose up against her, unable to live one more day without living, and she was run out of town.  That’s all we know for sure. 

A number of hunters say they killed that Evil Queen as she fled from them, left her body in the woods.  No one knows if they’re telling the truth or not. 

Some say the she got away, that she ran fast enough to escape them all (some even say she did it through magic and more people believe it then you might think).  She’s hiding somewhere now, plotting her revenge.  Parents tell their kids not to go out too far, otherwise she might jump out from the bushes and snatch them and eat them all up.  Some get scared by that but most children just laugh.   

Others, older, who were there when she was in charge, just shrug their shoulders.  They don’t know if she’s alive and they don’t care.  They threw her out once, they say, they can do it again if she comes back.  If she doesn’t, all the better.  She should be getting pretty old now herself anyway, if no one lets her in she won’t be able to enter.    

Sometimes rumours come from the north.  They talk about a woman at a sanctuary that used to be a hospital, a woman who looks very much like an old tyrant.  They say she’s happy now, that she draws little cartoons for the children, that she weeps a lot and laughs more, that she is quiet and kind and has secrets in her eyes that she will take to the grave.  They say if you ask she’ll just tell you that she’s trying to be better, that she’s trying to do better.  They say they’ve heard her thanking God and all that’s good that she managed to hang onto something decent inside her, she doesn’t know how but she did. 

But others say they’ve been there and never saw her there, never even heard of her. 

(If anyone remembers her real name, they don’t say it.)

I’m the teller, so I say she made it there, I say she’s happy.  I say her plan was liberation all along, to incite the people to free themselves.  After all, she used to illustrate children’s books, she knew the importance of a good villain.  She wrote a story of freedom and strength and rebellion that will be told for decades to come.  I think she gets a happy ending for that.  At the hospital her hands have finally started to feel clean again, she has forgotten how it feels to hold a gun, how it feels to wield power over those weeping terrified before her.  She has nightmares often, but her days are peaceful.  She can’t help in rebuilding the houses surrounding the Building much anymore, her back hurts too much now, but she paints the walls when she can and still cries over colours.  She had to build a world out of black and white, you see, had to fight to make sure no one ever saw the grey.  Shades still take her by surprise. 

But that’s just what I think, and there are thousands who would disagree with me.  She’s dead, they say, or gone, or evil, and really what evidence do you have she was even trying to be good? And even if she were, what evidence do you have that she managed to keep a hold of it? How does someone keep their soul when they do all that? It’s hardly possible, not here, not now.  It’s the end of the world, why do you keep telling stories about good things happening? Remember, much more awful has happened here than good, this is a tragedy more than it is anything.  Do you really understand what that means? Do you understand what has been lost? For all it is dressed up in flowery language and fancy metaphor, the fact is billions died, they are dead and gone and people screamed for them and are screaming still.  Their corpses are rotting.  The weeping in the night will never truly fade.  That’s what they say. 

Look, I’m sorry, I know it’s not much of a story but we’re both busy and there’s not time for a real story, not tonight.  And really my point is this, when I say the world has ended do you really think about what that means?  So much of what we take for granted is just what we make, what we choose to build into a world and now look, it’s shattered like ice.  We’re lost and frightened and so often horribly alone.  Things change faster than we can understand, we’re not made for it, not for this sorrow, not for this grief.  But we have to live through it somehow and we do.  So really that’s the point, that’s the choice: the story is yours.  You’re standing here looking at a barren broken world, at a planet with a hole at its centre.  Someone has to fill it up again, someone has to put something in it.  The story isn’t necessarily what happened, what happened is just facts.  The story is what’s true.  Do you want her to be wicked and cruel? Do you want her to have died alone in the woods? Or do you want her to have survived? Do you want her to have had a plan for goodness all along? Do you want there to be kindness hidden at the heart of it?

Then go tell a story that says that, go build a world in which it can be true.  It’s the end of the world and you’re still listening, that means it can be the beginning of one too.  Despite it all. 

[lonely--shine]

Alnair 🌂🧠 Atlas 🍎🎯 Shell 🎓🍀 Ebis ✨🥊🎯 Marcus 🌂

Thanks for all the questions!! :D Let's see...

*Alnair

🌂 - What genre do they belong in? Fantasy! She's an Arcana game OC, so fantasy all the way in.

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC? They're the perfect mashup of self-insert to project into and character of its own to explore paths I myself would personally not walk through. I also love how she lets me rewrite canon events however I want xD

*Atlas

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like? In short, pretty good! Atlas has two moms, Naith (they/them) and Irdred (she/her) (and the auntcle/biological father, Laith (she/he/they)) and loves them very much. Atlas picked many interests from them (art, gardening, etc), specially from Naith. And athough he travels far and often (he picked that from Laith), he still keeps in touch regularly and visits home once in a while.

...wow, me giving a character a perfectly healthy background/family. This is rare to happen. Quick, make a wish!

🎯 -What do they do best? All things plants. In magic? That means potions, charms, etc. In daily life? You got him gardening, cooking, brewing tea... If it involves working with plants one way or another, he has you covered.

*Shell

🎓 - How long have you had the OC? I wanna say May 2021? *goes check* Yeah, I posted about her in June 2021 for the first time, so maybe I had her for like. maybe a month before that. Which means I had her for almost three years already? And she's still so little developed? Gods. In my defence I don't choose what my brain fixates on and also my life went to shit in late 2021 and kept like that for two years, so yeah. I want to take better care of my OCs and stories now tho ^^

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC? At first I just needed someone to comfortably play Asra's and Julian's routes with because it didn't quite work with either Alnair nor Atlas. Then I started wondering if it was possible to have one character that fitted all six Arcana routes. So I gave her an angsty backstory by which her identity was stripped and to be reshaped by the route she takes, gave her the name 'Shell' solely so I could have the play on words "Shell is your name and that's what you shall become" as part of her 'curse', and ta-daa! Yet another OC for the collection was born xD

*Ebis

✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name? Okay, bear with me. Ebis is a Submachine OC, loosely based on the Player. And I say 'loosely' because there isn't really any information about Player to base Ebis on. Anyway, in one of the games you get out a padded room and there's the patient number 2183. Which, in digital clock numbers, if mirrored, kinda read like 'Ebis' if you squint hard enough. That's the logic Ebis follows to choose her name, since she wakes up without memories and it's easier to think of herself as 'Ebis' than a 4 digit number anyway.

Maybe it's a dumb way to decide for a name but if it works it works.

🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do? She loves tinkering away with computer software, which is good for her because she makes a job out of it post-canon (I have not written about that, but it exists in my head), and also numeric games for when she wants to scratch that brain itch without dealing with the inevitable bugs. She also loves gardening and not only that but needs to get her hands into the dirt and feel the sun on her face regularly for optimal mental stability. As for hating... I can only think of anything that would involve her going underground? Trauma related thing, after Submachine she's had enough underground for the rest of her life. Otherwise I don't know, I haven't given much thought to it. Oh! But she's incapable of sitting still and doing nothing, if that counts.

🎯 -What do they do best? She's very good at computers and programming... and the less socially accepted side of it as well (by which I mean she knows how to hack stuff, but she doesn't do that post-canon, and in-canon she does by necessity).

*Marcus

🌂 - What genre do they belong in? As the other Submachine OC I guess sci-fi/fantasy? Adventure? There's some post-apocalypse vibes to much of the game as well. Post-canon this would turn to the fluffy slice-of-life this poor tired man (and Ebis as well) deserves.

And that's all!! I believe I have talked enough for the day, thank you so much for the questions, they made my day :D

[warmaidensrevenge]

Joseph Quinn falls for a peasant.

Joseph Quinn x Plus size reader

If you want to read my other work you can find it HERE

Ok I'm gonna dabble into this real world type setting. Because my heart aches.

Warning: language, and angst.

Not proof read and no word count

Summary: life is hard for Joe. He loves all the attention he's getting but it makes it hard to find a nice girl. But one day changes everything.

If you would like a part 2. Please let me know. If not. Well I'm gonna write it anyways. This is my swamp and I do as I please. Kay love ya bye.

Part 1: what ifs?

😓❓

It's been a year since Stranger Things and Joe is still at the forefront of everyone's mind. The sudden eruption of his career was overwhelming for him. Of course he was used to the small interactions he got before he portrayed the character famously know as Eddie Munson. But after just a mere 20 minutes of screen time changed his life forever. Trying to adjust to this added fame was hard to say the least. Constant travels to places that he only dreamt of going where now his new normal. Hotel rooms where his new scene. To be honest, he hated it. The stupid TSA, the continuous harassment he got from obsessive fans got to be too much. Sure he loved all those who supported him and got him to where his is now. But sometimes he would just like to rest. To top things off he was lonely. Even being in a room full of people there solely to see him, it still felt like no one really saw him. Besides the men and women who threw themselves at him. He was 29 about to be 30 and he still lives with his parents in south London. Not that he minded it. But he wanted to take care of his mum and his family that have supported him through out his journey. That's why he agreed to do modeling too. He wanted to earn enough to get his parents a house. So he was on a constant move. But his was missing something or someone. He met a lot a good looking woman. Some not so nice. But none the less still women who were interested in him. Weeding through the real ones not full with lust was harder than he thought it would be.

After a while he decided since he spent so much time in America he would get an apartment there. But definitely not in LA. He hated LA. It was just to much for him. So he decided to get a studio apartment in Seattle. Close enough to California but far enough to not be bothered so much when he would film and model. He picked a lovely place that was high up that he could over look the city. He liked Seattle so much because it reminded him of the weather in London. He would go out to this small tavern to drink and sometimes play a song or 2. They had an open mic night twice a week and he loved it. He would always wear outfits to hide his identity. But every once in a while someone would recognize him.

One morning he was walking to a small coffee shop to get a tea when he bumped into a woman coming out while he was going in. Spilled her drink all over her.

" Oh I-I I'm so sorry."

Your were holding your shirt away from yourself. "It's ok. I should have been paying attention"

He watched as you took off your hand bag and jacket.

" Could you please hold this?" You said holding out your things to him.

For some reason or another you didn't look at him. You had taken off your shirt leaving you in a black spaghetti strap under shirt.

" I'm so sorry. Please let me buy you another drink" he offered.

You shook your head an took your jacket and bag back. " No that's ok. Thank you but I'm running late."

That's when you finally looked at him.

Oh my god! That's Joseph Quinn.

" Umm you have a good day." You said before turning heel and sped walked away.

He called after you, but you were already crossing the street.

Does she not no who I am?

He was dumbfounded. Normally people recognize him instantly. But you didn't really give him the time of day. He went into the shop and order a tea. That's when he saw a familiar look the servers gave to him.

" Oh my god Joseph Quinn" one of the employees said.

" Ello love." He loved at the reaction he got.

After a few pictures and autographs he spoke to one of the employees about the woman who had just left. He found out that you were a regular. That you went every Friday in the early mornings. But today you were running late. He wanted to see you and apologize again. At the very least get your name. Which he did. And from the information he received, he found out you worked in a building up the street. He wanted to come back the next Friday but he was going to Milan for a fashion show. So it was gonna have to wait.

...

Did that really just happen? What the actual fuck.

Making your way up the block to work you couldn't help but think about who the hell you just ran into and who you walked away from without so much as a hello.

No that can't be him.

As you made your way into the building you opened up the office and turned on the light. There were already a few clients waiting for you. You had set up the front desk and turned on yours and Brenda's computer. You and her were receptionist/ assistants in a lawyers office. Normally you were never late. But last night you decide to get high with your best friend Colin who came to visit from Minnesota. You met Colin when you lived in Wisconsin a few years back. But when he went to college you had a job opportunity in your favorite city. So you packed up and moved to Seattle after your 6 year relationship ended.

The day was filled with clients and small talk with Brenda. She was this nice older woman who had been working there for the greater part of her life.

You were sitting in the break room picking at your salad still thinking about the guy you ran into this morning.

" What's is it hun?"

You looked up to Brenda who was making her way to the table.

" Uh nothing I'm just not that hungry."

" How is that when all you eat are salads?"

"I'm trying this keto diet. I really need to lose some weight. The doctors said that it's the reason why I can't sleep. I even have a stupid sleep study on Sunday."

" Oh you're gonna get a CPAP machine. Those things are a pain."

" Yeah. I just hope I don't need one. So I'm trying to drop a few pounds. Maybe that will help with my snoring."

" Sure sure. So what are your plans for the day?"

" Colin? That's the gay one right?"

Your face filled with excitement. " Oh man Colin is here for a few days so I'm gonna take him to see Wicked."

" So when are you gonna start seeing someone?"

He's literally my only friend.

You nodded.

" Hun don't let work run your life. You are young. It's time to start getting out there."

" What? No please we work too much to have a life like that."

You hadn't dated anyone since Lucas. You guys actually had gotten engaged when you realize that he wasn't the one for you. He was upset of course but he understood that the marriage would have never worked out if the love wasn't mutual.

You went home around 4:30 and found your bestie doing some light reading.

" Poop! I've missed you." You said walking over to the couch.

" Bitch where have you been all my life?"

You laughed and hugged him. " So you're moving here with me right? I have a spare room."

" I wish. But I have one more year until I graduate and get my teaching license."

" Then you're gonna move here? There's loads of schools you can work at."

" Yeah that will be cool. Just don't give my room away or we're fighting."

" Oh poop I would never." You pouted

" So I have to tell you something."

You nodded and sat back against the couch.

" So I have this guy friend right. And I really like him but he's like straight."

You raised an eyebrow.

" Yeah yeah I know. Unavailable. But I just can't help it he's so fucking hot."

" Is that right?"

" Oh man y/n you don't even know. Here let me show you."

You watched as he opened Instagram and pulled up the guys profile. He was cute. Super cute. Totally Colin's type.

"Nice."

" I know right! We work at target together and man I just can stop looking at him. Do you think I can turn him to the dark side."

" Well poop I don't know. Does he have a girlfriend or anything?"

" No I don't think so. My Friend Cassie's said that she's never seen him with anyone. OH SHIT! Ok check this out. So one day we were working and Cassie started to freak out. She went to a customer and she asked for a hug and a picture. So I went over there with her and I'm like ' Who are you?' and he laughed and said that he wished more people were like me. Anyways after he left Cassie was so fucking happy. She said that he played some character in Stranger Things. Some guy named Eddie."

Your mouth dropped.

" Yeah right! So anyways that's when Ben..the hot straight guy I'm in love with came up and was like 'Oh my god his accent is so hot' and that got me wondering."

" Wait wait hold on...back that's shit up. Are you telling me you met Joseph Quinn?"

" Umm I guess."

" You guess!" You pulled out your phone and showed him a picture of him that you pulled up from Google. "Is this the guy?"

" YEAH! Oh my god. He's so fuck fine."

I mean yeah but

" Anyways soooo he said that he was hot right. Like I couldn't have made that up. So there might be a chance you know?"

" Ok ok. Yes that sounds a bit sus. But I don't know. Just ask."

" What?! I can't do that you know me."

" Yes I do poop. And I know you've gotten better at talking to guys. So just try."

" Yeah. I should just talk to him. Hey want to smoke?"

" Of course my horse." You got up and opened a window while Colin pulled out a blunt.

You sat back down. " so I can't believe you met Joseph Quinn. That's so fucking crazy. I could swear I ran into him this morning."

Taking a hit he passed it to you. " Bitch you know he lives here right?"

You shook your head and let out the smoke until you couldn't hold it anymore. "Nope. I don't look him up or anything. He's kinda just everywhere. I try not to get on social media because he's literally all I see."

" Well I do. He's 29 and he lives here sometimes to be closer to work. But he hates Americans and he really hates LA."

"Really?"

Then why the hell would he do that?

" Yeah and his birthday is coming up in a few months."

"Colin are you stocking the poor guy?"

" Well no and yes. Did you know he can actually play the guitar?"

" Umm yeah I saw a video once on TikTok."

" Oh shit come here. I'll show you all the shit I've seen. Man if this guy said for me to hop on his dick I wouldn't question it."

Same

"Gross"

The rest of the night Colin was going on an on talking about Joseph and his new love interest.

...

After an amazing weekend you said your goodbyes to your best friend. Monday morning was a weird one. Brenda was already there. You walked into the office and saw a bouquet of flowers on the counter. Brenda peaked her head to the side.

" Hey pretty flowers."

" They're for you."

Me?

" Who are they from?" You asked smelling the flowers.

" A Mr. Joe Quinn."

WHAT?! HOW?! WHAT?!

" What?"

" He's cute." Brenda said while holding up an autograph picture of Eddie Munson. " Is this the guy from Stranger Things?"

You didn't answer from the shock to your system.

"Y/n it is him. When did you start seeing-" Brenda paused to read the back of the photo. "To Miss y/n, please accept the flowers and an apology for the mishap that happened on Friday. I know your wondering how I found you. Well technically I did not. I sent out a few bouquets to all the offices in the building in hopes one would find you. My apologies again. I hope to see you soon. Possible have a drink?" Sincerely Joe."

He remembers me. Also how did he know my name?

" Umm let me see that." You held out your hand to take the photo from Brenda. You studied it and reread it again."

" Friday? That was they day you didn't have your normal Friday shirt on. Did you sleep with him?"

You shot your head up to look at her. " God no Brenda. What kind of woman do you think I am?"

"Hey no judgement here. He's a very handsome. If only I was 30 years younger."

" Stop it. I was running late that day and I rushed out of the coffee shop down the street and we ran into each other. Spilled my coffee all over me. I took off my shirt and when I finally saw him I was too shy to introduce myself . Anyways, I left in a hurry because well I was late."

" Did he introduce himself?"

You shook your head.

"hmm I wonder what he means by seeing you again. Would you go out for a drink with him?"

" umm no. He's famous no way would we be able to have a normal conversation without interruptions."

" Well maybe you could have him over to your place. Or maybe vice versa."

" I wouldn't even know how to get a hold of him"

" Hmmm let's see." Brenda opened up a browser while you grabbed the flowers and set them behind you on the desk.

You smelled them once more before looking to see what Brenda was doing.

How to get a hold of Joseph Quinn?

"Oh sweet baby Jesus Brenda don't do that. I don't want to hang out with him?"

" You liar. I can tell you like him."

" No I don't even know him to like him."

" Well you find him attractive then. I can definitely see why. You see how big his eyes are. Like a baby cows eyes....so pretty."

Yeah they are.

" See look it lists his American agent phone number." Brenda pointed out and grabbed the phone.

" NO! BRENDA PLEASE DON'T." You tried to hang up the company phone but she kept you from it.

She quickly dialed the number while you begged her.

" Shhh it's ringing."

" Brenda please." You pleaded but she held up a finger to shush you. You could feel your eyes swell from embarrassment.

" Hi. Hello is this Joe Quinn agent?" Brenda listen while you shook your head. Tears threatening to leave you.

" yes I'm calling about some flowers that were delivered to y/n.....Yes uh huh she got them.....yes that's why I called I'm her assistant and I would like to schedule something.......oh out of the country.....uh huh....so when will Mr. Quinn be returning?.....ok how about we schedule something for let's see."

Brenda looked at you and just kept mouthing no's.

"Ok she will be available this Thursday for lunch.... perfect sounds great thank you... goodbye."

Your head was in your hands.

Oh my god this is not happening. This has to be a joke.

"See not that hard."

" I hate you Brenda."

" That's ok a lot of people do. Can I keep this?" She said holding up the picture.

" Sure"

Why would he want to see me again? Wasn't the flowers enough? I thought it was too much.

...

The rest of the week was agonizing. You could not stop thinking about your upcoming appointment. It couldn't have been really right. Joseph doesn't do shit like this.

After calling Colin he convinced you to just go to lunch with him. And though you honestly didn't want to you decide on it. It's not that you didn't like him, because obviously he's gorgeous. It's just what on earth would someone with such popularity want to share a meal with someone so...well plain.

Waiting outside the small mom and pop shop under your apartment, you were having doubts. You were early so you could look at the menu and find something without sugar or carbs. But there was little to nothing. But you were definitely gonna order something. You didn't want him to think that you were just another girl trying to hide the amount of food you ate. That's when you saw a red Porsche pull up and park.

Oh fuck

...

After his run in with you, Joe immediately called his assistant to get flowers sent out. He had him attach a signed copy of a photo of Eddie Munson in hopes that maybe if you didn't recognize him that maybe now you would. Then maybe give him a chance to make it up to you.

" Joe! How was it?"

When he finally got to Milan there were troves of fans and models. Most of them being incredibly beautiful. After a long night of photos and interviews he was able to get some rest in a hotel. His phone went off. He looked and it was Jamie face timing him.

" Good mate. Real good."

" Fantastic. When are you coming back?

"I should be back in Seattle on Monday morning."

" Great! So I'm having a party on Friday. Please come. There will be food and drinks, women."

" Yeah sounds good mate."

" Perfect! So any lovelies joining you tonight?"

" No Jamie you know I don't bring anyone back."

" Well you need to. It's already hard being in this business. But doing it alone is so much harder."

" You know I've been looking. It's unbelievable difficult finding someone who is real. And actually nice. Instead of pretending to be just so they can see me. Then completely change course when I do give them a chance."

" Well you either need to lower your standards mate or find someone who isn't in this business."

Joe was quiet for a moment. Y/n.

"Joseph? Have you met someone?"

"Well not officially" he said rubbing the back of his neck.

" Alright. Spill the tea."

Joe went on about the encounter he had with the pretty woman at the coffee shop.

" Oh Joseph. Oh no. Joseph you didn't."

"Well what was I suppose to do mate. I needed her to know who I was."

" But you sent her an autograph"

Fuck

"I understand it was too much."

" You think?" Jamie said sarcastically

" Yes but what if she actually didn't know who I was?"

" I'm sure she does. You're Americas sweetheart. Everyone knows you."

"Then why wouldn't she ask for a picture or anything?"

" Maybe it's because she was running late to work. Or maybe she's not that big of a fan. Or she's doesn't care that your famous. Who knows? So has your assistant gotten back to you yet?"

" No. I don't think the bouquets won't be there until Monday."

" Oh so is it too late to take out the photo?"

" Yes it's already gone to the florist."

" Well good luck with that. And if you do get a chance to officially meet and it turns out you like her. Bring her to my party and let us meet her. And we will give you the approval." Jamie winked and hung up before Joe could protest.

He got ready for bed sending a text out to him mum and his assistant. The assistant got back to him right away saying the flowers were still pending.

Please get them. He thought before falling asleep.

...

Monday morning he got off the plane and made his way to his car. Once in he looked at his phone and turned off airplane mode. He immediately got a text from his assistant

'Lunch appointment on Thursday with Miss y/n l/n. Meet at Lola's cafe.'

He was excited. You got his gift and you didn't freak out about the other thing attached to the flowers. He looked at the address and smiled. It wasn't far from his loft. He loved that place. It had the best carrot cake he's ever tasted.

Thursday couldn't come soon enough. He was anxious. Surprising to say the least. He was always shy. And the fact that he did anything like this was not like him at all. But he was glad he did it. He wanted to get there early so he could see if they had his favorite cake. He saw you standing outside waiting.

He parked his car and tried to calm his nervousness. It's been a while since he felt like this. And he didn't know it but you were feeling the same way.

I see you're early as well.

He got off the car with his assistant to greet you but he tripped on the curb. Not paying any attention to the big step up. He almost fell but caught himself. He was looking at you hoping beyond hope you didn't see that. But you had dropped your body a bit and leaned forward to try and catch him if he did fall. Your face was filled with concern. He liked it. But once you saw that he was fine you gave him a soft smile and shook your head.

Joe nodded for his assistant to go inside while I'm could have a moment alone with you.

" Ello. I'm Joe."

" Yes. Nice to meet you. I'm y/n."

You held out your hand for a shake and he took it. Your hands were so soft and warm. He didn't want to let it go but deemed it inappropriate.

" I hope your hungry this place has the best food. And their carrot cake is to die for."

Your smile was so lovely he wished it would never go away.

" Why thank you. I make it for them."

" You do?" He was taken back.

You giggled. " Yes the owners are my landlords. And I help make their desserts sometimes. That's my apartment right up there." You pointed at the top of the building

You live close to me then? Perfect.

" Oh that's wonderful. Well your going to have to show me how you make that next time."

Next time. There's gonna be a next time? You thought

" So shall we?" He asked holding the door open for you.

" Yes thank you." You replied going in.

Polite and beautiful.

You guys put in your orders and sat down. After a few seconds of awkward silence Joe apologize again. You told him it was fine. That it was just an accident and that he didn't have to buy you lunch or send gifts.

He was gonna respond when the server came with food and drinks. You looked at him and smiled. You did the sign of the cross and muttered 'thank you Jesus for this food' under your breath.

He grinned at you when you did this. He was gonna speak again but a crowd of people came in and were being unruly loud.

You looked up and saw a gaggle of girls staring at Joseph's back.

" Looks like you have some visitors." You said nudging your head towards the females.

He turned and his heart sank. Just once would he like to have a meal in public without being bothered. Especially now that he was sharing a meal with you. He turned back around to face you.

" I'm so sorry."

You just grinned. "Don't be sorry. They are here for you. Go. Or else they will never stop staring."

He nodded and made his way outside with the crowd following him and his assistant. After about 20 minutes of photos and signing away he still had a line of people waiting for him.

" Hey Tim is there anyway we can go back in. I really would like to spend some time with y/n."

" Oh I'm sorry sir. She left 5 minutes ago. She said she was sorry but she had to go back to work. But she did give me this."

Joe felt awful. Seems like you two wouldn't be able to have any time alone. He took the piece of paper from his assistant and stepped back from the fans to read it.

It was the recipe for the cake. He smiled. He must absolutely see you again. This time just you two. After about an hour he had his assistant try and set up a dinner date for tonight. But your assistant gave him your number so Joe could call you personally. It's been a while since he's done that. Normally his friends and family were the only ones who knew his personal line. But for some reason he didn't mind if you had it.

Once he got to his loft he called. It rang about 4 times before you answered.

" Hi. Umm can you please remove my number from you call list. I would really appreciate it. Thank you."

Joe's eyes widen when you hung up.

Wait what?

So instead of calling you again he messaged you.

" Ello love it's Joe from lunch. I was wondering if you would like to have dinner tonight?"

-

You looked at your phone and almost fainted.

Oh my god. I just hung up on Joseph Quinn. Fuck me!

Instead of texting him back you called him.

-

He answered right away.

" Ello."

" Hey Mr Quinn I'm so sorry I thought you were a telemarketer."

He chuckled " You can call me Joe and it's completely a'right. I understand."

" I uhh. How did you get my number if you don't mind me asking?"

" Your assistant gave it to my assistant."

"My assistant?"

" Uh yes Brandy I believe."

" Ohhh you mean Brenda. Yeah that lady is such a meddler."

" Oh why's that?"

" Ok Quinn can I be honest with you?"

" Always."

You cleared your throat. " So Brenda is not my assistant. We are actually both receptionist/assistant at the law offices of Mark and Decker. She was the one who signed for the flowers and the one to read your note. Once I told her that I didn't plan or even know how to get ahold of you. She took it upon herself to set up the lunch."

" So you're saying you went out on a date with me under protest?"

Shit

What? That was a date? You freaked

" Umm no not at all. It was really nice of you to show. I thought I was being punked or something."

" Didn't that show get cancelled?"

" I'm not sure. I think so."

"I'm sure you wouldn't. So what's this about dinner?" You tried not to sound to egger.

" Oh no love I wouldn't do that to anyone."

Oh my Lord. If he keeps calling me that I will pass the fuck out.

" Yes of course, I was wondering if you cared to join me for supper?"

"That's sounds nice. But umm do you mind if we don't go out in public?"

" I was just about to ask you the same thing."

" Oh great thank you. Would you like to come over to my place? I had already taken out some chicken for dinner if you don't mind."

"No I don't mind at all. Should I bring a bottle of wine?"

" You can for yourself. I'm sorry I don't drink."

"Oh that's fine I'll just bring some punch or something."

" Don't worry about it. I have everything here. Just come around 7?"

" Absolutely. I'll be there."

" Great. Umm see ya soon."

" Yes. Um be seeing you."

He hung up the phone. He was so damn nervous he had to take a puff of his inhaler to be able to breath again. He was so excited that he went to his closet and looked for a proper outfit for a date that was 5 hours away. That's when his received a text. He thought for a moment that you were gonna cancel on him but to his relief it was Tim.

Tim reminded him about his flight tomorrow to LA in the early morning. He had to do an interview on Jimmy Fallon again with Jamie, Sadie, and Joe. Then after, celebrate with Jamie and the others. But now that he was able to see you again. He didn't want to go. He wanted to spend as much time as he could with you before he was off again to a different show or whatever Con he was booked to go to.

-

After you hung up you sunk to the break room floor. You had been walking around trying to calm yourself when you were talking to him. You could not believe this was happening. You wished someone would punch you in the face so that you could wake up from this dream. When Brenda came in to check on you. You explained to her what just happened and what you were thinking. That's when she leaned down and smacked the shit out of you.

You gasped as your head turned from the slap and your eyes watered. You looked back at her. Not believing she actually just hit you.

"See hun your fine. This is really happening. And you have a date with Joseph fucking Quinn. Now get your ass up and get back to work."

You nodded and got up still in shock.

Holy shit I'm having dinner with Joseph fucking Quinn.

...

@salenorona23

[princesspuresarahk]

Ed Edd n Eddy Fanfic Save Peach Creek

Prologue

It’s been two years after Big Picture show the Eds are friends with the kids of the cul-de-sac after returning from their journey to Eddy's brother's place and finding out bro's true colors with Eddy's confession along with the beating of Johnny n Plank with them now being the outcasts for awhile, but not all was peaches n' cream once everyone returned home to celebrate at Kevin's with sweet jawbreakers. After being gone for a whole day without a word and giving everyone a near terrifying heart attack the parents of the kids confronted them with a thank god you're safe/where on Sam Hill have you kids been?!?!?! scolding them for two hours straight with wanting a very, very, very good ( look me in the eye so I can tell your telling the truth ) explanation from every one of them, they all told/explained what occurred (while keeping certain things out) from the scam that went really to chasing the Eds, to making it to Bro and with the so-called game of ''uncle" to the trailer door slamming into him knocking him out along with Johnny n' Plank arriving late and not giving the eds enough time to explain and tell you the rest, after being straightforward of the whole story the folks we’re happy that their kids were now safe but still rattled with their little disappearance and everyone knew that everyone was going to be sincerely punished for their actions, so during that entire 7th-grade year AND summer.

The punishments Eddy for starters had gotten his lava lamp, disco ball, record player, and electronic devices taken away ( well all except the '' magazines '' that Ed helped hide, but failed to remember the location eventually they found them a week after their punishments were set and come to think of it even Edd n' Eddy couldn't remember where they found them ), but anyway not also that Eddy had to work at his Dad's used car shop on weekends, along with taking therapy counseling at school and to have good grades in class while also having to spend half of the summer at his Grampa's house and a boring three-week trip with his parents before August. For Ed his parents made sure to give him the worst punishment they could come up with after his mom got a really good look at her son's room she made him help do a super all-out cleaning spree (replacing the carpet, walls, the bathroom which means now he's forced to take a shower with actual soup and shampoo and bed replacing it with a platform bed so he won't shove anything under it or else so far Ed kept it clean) while using all of Ed's beloved sponges taking away his tv, monster figurines, half of his comics, along taking the stairs away again, so he had to use a rope ladder if he ever wanted to get breakfast which is another punishment he's allowed toast but no butter and absolutely not a trace of any of gravy at all which hurt the big guy's heart, during school Ed had to take extra tutoring to make good grades too that Double D gratefully helped him along with Eddy too(another part of his punishment) with their parents permission. As for Sarah she also wasn't let off the hook either, her toys and dolls were taken away and wasn't allowed to have treats or desert (Ed too) or see Jimmy unless it was at school, at summer break Ed was sent to boot camp for six weeks plus him and Sarah were sent to their Aunt's place for the rest of July until August ( everyone was let off a little around August as a tiny reward for good behavior, but still grounded ) which was a relief for them as their Aunt was a retentive or to them a neat freak.

Jimmy had his teddy bear, baking oven, and paints, including Mr. yum-yums taken away and wasn't allowed to see Sarah for the same reasons, and part of his summer was having to go to hockey camp for a week (as his father still makes him practice) and visiting relatives in another state. As for Double D our brainy sockhead had his chemistry set taken away, was given extra chores (not did he didn't mind of course)but all his research books, and tools for his inventions that he and his friends made in the past were also reprehended, but the worst part of all was when his parents took his hat away now his secret reveled for the whole world to see, his long scar on his head that he got from the dodge ball accident that happened long before he came to Peach Creek, and it was a little uncomfortable not having his hat on but after a week no one seem to notice the scar at all which made Edd feel better about himself throughout the school year even if he still wishes his hat back, during half of his summer break he mostly spent most of his time either cleaning or read some of his books he was allowed back and did some extra work/studying in preparation for 8th-grade year ( plus the Eds were not allowed to see each other unless at school).

Now comes Nazz who was forced to have her half-bald head exposed as punishment, and all her beauty products were taken away, witched made her hold a grudge against the Eds for a while and a very long silent treatment she gave Kevin for three months as she was still mad about what happened on their adventure, after Christmas she forgave them and her hair had grown fully back around May, but wasn't able to grow fast enough for picture day, which Nazz still doesn't want to talk about, she ended up spending half the summer at her Dad's. Speaking of Kevin, he ended up having his bike and tools which were still destroyed from when the Kankers had taken them away and was to either build a new bike from scratch from the junkyard or would have to walk to school like everyone else, plus his Dad talk to his boss to work part-time at the jawbreaker factory on weekends and his Dad's boss agreed to make sure to have Kevin work so hard until his legs and arms have become noodles, and as extra punishment no sports of any kind at all.

To Rolf he had pretty much miserable punishment for the son of a shepherd wasn't allowed to eat any meant or he would be forced to sleep with Wilfred, to Rolf choose the first option as Wilfred still held a grudge for Rolf when he tried to swat him with a shoe , and was also give extra chores which he was able to get done , even if he lost some weight and strength while doing his chores , he was able to stay strong by eating the beets in his garden, and as for the urban rangers , Rolf, Jimmy , and Johnny were not allowed to see one another unless it involved Urban Ranger duties , which they promised to do which they did and helped fix anything that still needed repair or that was forgotten, since as another part of the punishment the Eds had to repair/clean up the damage they caused in the lane and parts of the cul-de-sac along with some of half the cost of property damage they had to clean up and pay with community service hours , it was hard work but it was accomplished with the kids who came to help out which they didn't mind as they made peace with the Eds, even the Kanker sisters showed up to help despite they didn't do anything wrong and didn't even bother the Eds while doing so , which was kinda odd and as the new school year was beginning they left without a word ( to which a relieve for the Eds even though everyone was still a bit curious about it), but they will find out soon enough .

And last but not least Johnny 2x4, Johnny was placed under house arrest for hijacking a bus that he and Plank had ridden in on his way to Mondo-A-GoGo amusement park where Eddy's brother lives/works (no one has heard a word from him since at the amusement park, even Eddy hasn't heard from Bro when his Mom and dad went to go see him as they did on last Christmas ) anyway back to Johnny, charges were placed for running red lights, driving illegally without a permit and license and endangerment the lives of others, additional charges were added after he assaulted an Officer by using Plank to wack him on the head, after he was caught in his ''Captain Melon-Head/The Gourd " lair which was added to his record, as for Plank Johnny's father had Plank taken away and locked in the shed in his backyard, making Johnny think that Plank has been put in solitary confinement, and during half of Johnny's and Plank's summer doing community service for early parole on good behavior. At the end of August, everyone was finally un-grounded.

sneak peak of Chapter 1 “PARTY TIME boys!''

reply what you think will happen next?

[living-d3ad-gh0ul]

Sunday 11th June 2023, 02.00am

I've sat here for a couple minutes now, trying to think of how to start this post. But I keep coming up blank. So I guess I'll just start writing. I read your post before I came here to write mine, although I had actually planned to write to you tonight anyway. I've been thinking of you every single day since I last wrote to you. All the time, wishing you could be here too. Thank you for the birthday wishes, E <3 Don't worry, you didn't miss it, it's on the 28th of this month. And I'll be 28, too. I don't know where the times bloody gone haha.

The last month has been... wild to say the least. Literally everything has changed. So so much has gone on. When I last wrote to you, we were in limbo, waiting for dad to come around from his mini-coma (that's what I've been calling it, cause it wasn't quite a coma, but he was very very sleepy and couldn't be woken up much). Well he did. He came around. He woke up and he called me on the Thursday of that week, which was 18th May. I think it was only a day or two after I wrote my last post. But god was it good to hear his voice. I cried so so much and so did he. He kept telling me he'd been trying to call me, but I think he'd either been dreaming of calling me or thinking about it. I didn't care though, it was just so fucking good to hear from him and actually talk to him. We spoke on the phone for almost an hour, before he got tired again and I told him to go rest.

The specialist nurse also called me. The day before my dad came around, so the Wednesday. And um.. well.. I don't really know how to say this. She said that he wasn't responding as well or as quickly as they'd hoped he would. Or rather as he should be. So.. they were taking the biopsy and all treatment off the table. They had done some more scans and.. after careful consideration, they decided that my dad was already too far gone. That he is terminal and we're now looking at Palliative care and keeping him comfortable, rather than trying to cure anything. She explained to me that any kind of surgery would just be far too dangerous and that giving him anaesthetic could potentially be fatal. As well as any treatments could maybe him worse rather than better, even at that, they may not too much. They were now formally diagnosing him with a grade 4 malignant tumour. It's called a glioblastoma, which.. unfortunately is one of the most aggressive and deadly. I was devastated to hear this news. I'm still devastated. I asked her if I had to come down there right away, she said no, not right now.. but it'd be wise if I did come soon. Hearing that kind of thing, especially about your parent, is awful. The next day when he came around, they had me and my dad discuss signing a DNACPR (Do Not Attempt CPR). Which he wanted to sign. And I'm not one to go against his wishes, if that's what he wants then that's fine. It's his life and his choice, and he expressed that he didn't want to end up in a worse state if they did do CPR. So we signed it off, as per my father's wishes. It still makes me really sad to think of.

I ended up going down there to Nottingham on the Friday, 19th May. My friend and her partner drove me down to see my dad and I stayed in the guest room at the place where my dad lives, which was nice enough, it was just like a little hotel room really, but with the added bonus of having a small kitchen so I could make my own food and stuff. I saw him on the Saturday too up at the hospital.. and god it was so good to see him. He was obviously laid up in a hospital bed, but I still managed to give him a big cuddle and let him kiss my cheek. We held hands a lot and he told me all the things he wanted to make sure we had set in place, such as a power of attorney and a will and what songs he wanted at his funeral. It was difficult talking about some of it, but I knew it was necessary at this point. So I immediately got to work on all of it over the next few days, getting all the forms ready for the power of attorney (which.. I won't lie, it's kinda scary being in charge of someone else's life, nevermind my own. Cause once it comes through, I'll have control over everything to do with my dad's life. Health, welfare, finance, everything.) and setting up things for him on his new phone, to make things easier for him to access and use.

I was down there for two weeks, visiting him every single day up at the hospital, taking him things he might need or want, spending time with him. It was kinda strange being in a hospital ward every single day, but I didn't want him to go without a visitor at all, especially when I was in his city and my purpose of being there was to see him and make sure he was being looked after okay. It was a really really busy time, because I had to sort out all of his things, visit him and then also clear out his flat and stuff too. And then I had to find a way to get all of his things back to Scotland, because we'd made the decision along with his care team that we'd be looking for a nursing home placement back in Scotland, back home where he belongs and where he can be close to me and where he grew up. Dad was more than happy with this, he was just happy he could be close to me and I could go see him whenever I like, instead of having to travel 5+ hours to see him. I tried to make a little time while I was down there to just.. relax too. I seen some old college friends and old friends from when I lived down there when I was a teenager. I had a night out to a local pub/club with them and it was pretty good. I had felt guilty about it, but my dad told me I better go and have a good time for him and take lots of pictures and show him the next day. Which I did, and he had a big smile on his face the whole time I told him. Every doctor, nurse and care assistant in the hospital said that the minute I was mentioned or the minute he saw me, his face would just completely light up. It's kind of heartwarming to know that I mean that much to someone.

Like I said, it was a really busy time and I had a lot to do, so it passed really quickly. But it also felt like it lasted forever. This last month has felt so quick but also like it's been a year rather than a month. We managed to get dad a place in a nursing home that's only 10 minutes from me, so it's really really handy. I can literally walk to it from my house. We managed to get all his transport and stuff sorted out and he was moved up here on Tuesday of this week (6th June). I had an awful time of trying to find a way to get all dad's stuff up here, but one of my best friends mums actually really fucking helped me out and she came all the way down to Nottingham and picked me up, we both loaded her car up with all my dad's things and then we hit the road back home to Scotland. I made sure to thank the lady at the supported living place my dad lived at for letting me stay in their guest room for so long, she was really nice to me when I stayed there. My dad's family have been helping out a little too, my uncles and their families. But.. they're not very good with this kind of thing. My mother... Well let's just say, I'm currently not on speaking terms with her at all. She's been a little cruel and not compassionate at all. I'd rather not talk too much about that, she's just been a bit nasty about everything when neither me or my dad need it right now. Especially when I'm dealing with so much and basically having to do everything for my dad. I get her and my dad ended badly and that she doesn't like him, but in this kind of situation the least she can do is be a little supportive for me.

So.. dad is in his nursing home back in Scotland, all of the staff seem so nice and again.. they all knew me before I knew them. Apparently my dad does not stop talking about me and he's always telling them how special I am and how much he loves me. I've had so many of them tell me just exactly what he says about me and say that I am the absolute light of his life. Which.. I'll be honest, I don't know how to take haha. It's nice obviously, I'm just not very good at taking compliments. I get all blushy and shy, especially when it's strangers doing it. He's always telling me recently how proud he is of me too, how I'm doing a wonderful job of taking care of him and all his thing, how I'm the best thing that ever happened to him. He's full of other compliments too that he slyly slides in there every now and then too, calling me beautiful and saying how I'm so special to him. Again, I just get all blushy and roll my eyes and stuff and just go "yeah yeah I get it, you love me" lol. But it really is so nice to hear him say it all. Not that he didn't before, he absolutely did. But now it's moreso. It's like he wants to make sure I know exactly just how much he loves me before.. well you know..

His condition has.. kind of deteriorated slowly. Every day he gets a little more forgetful and confused. He can't stand or walk, so he has to use a wheelchair to get around, which someone has to push for him because he has no mobility in his left arm now too. His eyesight is getting a little worse too, especially in his left side. The tumour is pressing on the right side of his brain, so that's making everything on the opposite side not work as well or stop working. He sometimes has little hallucinations or delusions too, which is something that's started up in the past couple weeks. Which.. isn't nice sometimes, especially when he gets upset about them. He's so determined and convinced that they're real, he won't listen to anything anyone says. He's told me he always wants me to be honest with him though, to tell him what's real and what's not real, to keep him right if he gets forgetful or confused. Which I do, I just try and do it in a gentle way where he wouldn't get upset or anything. Especially when he starts thinking my stepmum is still alive.. those ones hurt the most, because they're so difficult to deal with and I don't want to outright tell him "she's passed away". I just feel like that would be cruel. So I try and jog his memory, ask him if he remembers that she was sick and what happened and stuff. That usually helps. But only for a few minutes, his short term memory is really bad and he repeats himself a lot. It's not his fault at all so I just remind him and repeat myself a lot too. Eventually the conversation moves on to something else and he doesn't even remember it happened. It's tough, it's really tough, but I'll do anything I can for him. I love my dad so much and I'm terrified for the end. It's so hard to sit and watch him get sicker and sicker every day. But I try so hard to stay strong for him, to show him how much I care and how much I love him and that he absolutely will not be alone through any of this. I simply will not allow it.

He actually bought me an early birthday present the other day. He paid for me to have my hair done and have a new tattoo (of which I'll attach pictures so you can see). He said he wanted to do that for me because he wanted me to have a nice birthday and to have some "chill time". He knows how much I love having my hair done and getting tattoos, so it was perfect. My dad loves getting tattoos too, me and him actually have a matching one and he has his favourite Moto GP riders signature tattooed on him. He met him one time at one of the races, asked him to sign his arm and literally within half an hour, he was sat in a tattoo shop getting it inked onto himself haha. My dad is a cool fucking dude. We had to sell his bike unfortunately. It was a really really sad thing for both of us, since my dad has never been without a bike for as long as I've lived. Hell even before that actually. But the lady we dealt with through it all was so helpful and she really made it all so much easier. We got the special engravings he had on his bike for my stepmum (one of them actually matches my thigh tattoo, which he had made when he got his new bike after I'd already had my tattoo done), so I decided I was gonna try and find something to do with them. And that's what I did tonight. I'll show you a picture of what I made. It's called a shadowbox. And the pictures in it are actually my dad on his old bike and his bike he just had.

I'm so glad that you're doing okay. And I'm glad you managed to sort out your GPU issue lol. I really want to build a new PC, but mine works fine for now, especially since I don't seem to be using it as much recently what with everything going on. Streaming is so much fun, I had done it for a little while a couple years ago and had a great time doing it. The only reason I stopped was because college got way too busy and then I was working all the time, so I didn't have much of a chance to do it anymore. I think you'd be really really good at it, I'm really excited for you and I'd love to know what you'll be streaming and more about all of that. I'm sorry you feel that way about your band. Have you guys tried writing some new material? Or is it just that as a whole, you just feel like things are a little stagnant? Whatever you choose to do, I support it. I support anything you want to do in life, because I know no matter what it is, it'll be great, because you are great. You really really are. And I am so grateful to you for being here for me, even just like this. I'll be honest, I did tear up a little (happy tears) when I saw you'd written to me again, just to let me know you're still here. It meant so much to me. You mean so much to me.

I really really am sorry that this post is so long again. I'm just about to go to bed and get some sleep, it's been a long day and I just got done making my dad's thing for him before I came here to write to you. I promise you I'm being safe and I know I can come here and write to you if I need to talk. I wish I could like.. actually talk to you right now. I miss your voice so much. But I can still remember it so clearly in my head. I wish I could just.. curl up and have you cuddle me for a little bit. Even if it was just for five minutes. I would really really like that.

I hope you and Chonky are doing well, I really really liked the picture of her. She's so fluffy and she looks so soft. I can't lie, when I seen her picture, I started doing all that baby talk that people do to cute animals and I just wanted to sink my hand into her belly fur and give her belly rubs. If my hand got torn to shreds from doing so, then so be it hahaha. Our little letters are really a bit of a lifeline for me right now. I've been reading yours over and over again a lot the past few weeks. They really do comfort me so much. Just to know you're out there and you're still here and you're thinking of me..

No moon for me tonight, it's been really warm and sunny here for the past few weeks, it's been nice actually. But tonight it rained and there's been some thunder and lightning, so I've been sat at my window watching and listening to that as I write to you.

I can't wait to hear from you again soon, E. And I loved the song. I love City and Colour so much. Dallas Greens voice is so soothing.

I'll talk to you soon. I miss you. I really really do. And thank you for all of this.. for being here for me and comforting me, even if only through our letters.

"Not to touch a hair on your head, leave you as you are, if he felt he had to direct you then direct you into my arms.."

N x

[hanalwayssolo]

I've scoured your page for your ocs so I have two. Please, all the questions for Briony and Javier?

I’m sorry if this took so long anon but all questions???? I am absolutely happy to serve! 🫡

Placing this under the cut because I got carried away with the idea of Briony and Javier meeting through a virtual chat and getting to have a conversation.

OC interview questions

1 Who makes up your family? How close are you to them?

Briony: So there's Cor, and he’s my dad. Not by blood, though.

B: Then my mom. Her name's Candela. Again, not by blood.

B: Never met my real parents. According to my mom they gave me up because my real dad didn’t want a girl as a first born. So...

Javier: so i think--and pardon me for saying this--but your real parents should rot in hell.

B: LMAO thank you for standing in solidarity with me. 🥺

B: Anyway! There's also my ten-year-old daughter, Ellie.

B: I could I say I'm close to all of them, and I love them all very much. 💖

B: So yeah. That's pretty much it for me. How about you, sir?

J: well no need to address me as sir, ‘javi’ is just fine, your majesty.

B: Please, I’d also appreciate if you’d just call me Briony. 🥲

J: alright then :)

J: ok so i have a younger brother. his name is carlos. not sure if we’re close. he can be annoying and i know i can be annoying to him. or worse.

J: then darcy, my ex-wife. my bonita and scout, darcy’s kids from a previous relationship whom i both treat as if they were my own flesh and blood. greta, emma, leticia. i know it sounds strange and i won’t go deep into our affairs but all i can say is that even after all my shortcomings, they were still very generous enough to give me another chance. so i’m grateful for our blended family. 

J: as for my parents, well. mi padre--i mean my dad, our relationship was not exactly a good one. it’s more of like a professional relationship. he was only el jefe to us. nothing more.

J: my mamá, however, was the best of us. but my dad didn’t really treat her well so she ended up leaving.

B: Oh gods, I’m so sorry.

J: don’t be. my dad should be the one apologizing. 

B: This is probably the reason why they put us together here. We both have issues with our real parents.

J: jajajaja looks like it.

2. Who is your best friend? Tell us about them!

B: My best friend is my husband, and his name is Gladio. He looks absolutely mean and threatening because he’s 6′6″ but he’s just about the kindest and sweetest fella I’ve ever met. 

B: How about you, Javi?

J: not to put a damper on things but i don’t have one. a best friend, that is. 

B: You can’t be serious? But you seem so amiable. 

J: you are far too kind to me, briony. :)

B: Surely you had one before?

J: well... 

J: my ex-wife. i guess she was my best friend. we’re still friends now but our relationship is not like the one we had before. 

B: Oh. I see. 

B: Okay then, I won’t probe further. And I apologize for even broaching the subject. 

J: it’s alright, don’t worry about it. 

3. What is your favorite childhood memory?

J: so my mamá is a costume designer and she often took my brother and i to the local theatre to watch musicals and shakespearean plays. we would hang out backstage and we’d help out with everyone’s costumes. i love those days.

B: Your mother sounds like a lovely woman. 💖 

B: Which reminds me, when I was a kid, Mom would also take me to theatres and we’d watch all these plays, and we were always so fascinated with the music. Especially the costumes! The masks, the props, the entire production. And whenever we get home, she’d sit at the edge of my bed and we’d talk about it all night.

B: Thinking about it all makes me miss my childhood so much.

4. What is your least favorite childhood memory?

B: Now this is the question that makes me not miss my childhood at all LMAO

J: my sentiments exactly.

J: ladies first? jajaja

B: Fine. 

B: When I was ten, my hometown was invaded by the Empire. I watched as one of their generals killed our queen in front of her children, my childhood friends. I was separated from my Mom for a long time because of it. That’s when Cor found me and took me in.

B: I think that changed me.

B: Sorry, no—it really did change me. Made me really angry at the Empire. For a time, all I wanted was to hunt down every single Imperial soldier who killed my friends, who destroyed my home.

B: But at this point… I’m not so sure anymore. And I’m just tired of being angry, of being so lost.

J: it’s strange. your experience somehow reminds me of my own.

B: Really? How so?

J: my father runs a cartel for a living. one day a rival cartel broke into our house and beat the living daylights out of us. my mother included. i was 8, my brother was 5.

J: my father changed after that. i wasn’t surprised that he would want revenge; he has always been prideful, self-assured. but that incident… something about it made him ruthless. the way he treated my mother changed. he also changed how he treated my brother and i, most of all. he wanted us to be stronger, demanded us to do better. he even punished us for being weak.

J: about what you said about being angry for a time, he was angry for the rest of his life. he certainly made good of his promise that he would make the rival cartel pay, and pay they did with their life. i remember him bringing my brother and i to their hideout and showed us the bodies. everything was drenched in blood. when my brother started crying, my father forced him to look and said, “this is what i am willing to do for our family. i want you to stare at it. i don’t ever want you to cower in fear over this kind of violence, do you understand?”

J: so i guess long story short: my brother and i, we somehow inherited that anger. and we’re still paying the price.

J: and i know i’m the last person you’d want to hear this from, briony, considering i’m but a stranger to you… but i hope you don’t let your anger consume you. as someone who has ruined a lot of good things in my life: anger is poison. nothing good ever comes out of it.

5. What is your favorite thing to do in your free time?

J: ay dios mío, finally an easier question to answer.

B: LMAOOO IKR

B: I’ll let you go first!

J: my most favourite thing to do in my free time is to cook, make wine, and to also spend time with scout and bonita.

J: how about you?

B: I love reading books and watching movies with my daughter. She’s also been very keen recently in making costumes ever since we started going to our community theatre so I reckon she and your mom would definitely get along.

J: oh for sure. :) scout enjoys hanging out in old bookstores and i can see you and him getting along, too.

B: I would certainly love to meet him! 💖 I have a good friend who tends to a humble little book shop in my city. He’d probably have a swell time there.

6. What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do?

B: Why are these questions like a rollercoaster ride????? LMAO

B: The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do is to answer all of these. And we’re not even halfway there yet!

J: likewise jajaja

J: but kidding aside though, what is the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do?

B: Hmmmmm. I’d say having to raise Ellie on my own in my early twenties. I didn’t know better at the time, and even though I’m thankful that I managed to get the support I need from Cor and my friends, it was still tough having a kid during a very tough time.

J: once again, you remind me of someone i know.

B: Really? Please do elaborate, if you don’t mind.

J: not at all. darcy had scout and bonita when she was in her twenties, too. i saw firsthand how difficult it had been for her—physically, emotionally, mentally. it took a toll on her once. bonita was at the peak of her tantrums and darcy screamed at her, too, telling her, “you think your life’s hard? you’re just a bloody baby! you don’t have the right to cry!”

B: Okay, I know how stressful that situation is because I have to admit, I had a similar experience with Ellie when she was a baby. I was so stressed at work and so I cried with her when she started throwing a tantrum.

B: Being a mother is hard work. My heart goes out to Darcy, truly.

B: But honestly whenever I think about that time now, I just find it hilarious. There I was, unable to afford therapy, so I was having a breakdown with my baby LMAO

B: I do hope Darcy finds that time as something she could laugh about now.

J: oh she does. she’s very transparent to the twins and she’s shared with them her lowest moments as their mum often as a light-hearted anecdote.

J: but i have to say—despite that, all darcy’s self-deprecating jokes aside, scout and bonita are very much understanding of their mum’s circumstances, which only goes to show how she has beautifully raised the twins. bonita is especially well aware that she can be a pain in the ass and that she’s glad her mum just cried with her even when she was a baby if it meant having to get a proper scolding without her understanding a single word.

B: So… would you count that as the hardest thing you ever had to do? Raising the kids together?

J: not really, no. i mean raising the twins was hard but it’s the kind of hard that feels so easy? i hope that makes sense.

B: Yup, it does. I get it. I felt the same way with Ellie.

J: so yeah. i suppose having to leave them that is the hardest.

B: How so?

J: because i ended up hurting them.

B: Can I ask you something?

J: sure, go ahead.

B: You still love her, don’t you?

J: yes. i suppose you can say that the other hardest thing i had to do is how to stop loving her.

J: clearly i’m not very good as it.

7. Who do you look up to?

B: My Mom and Cor, for sure.

J: i’m not sure…

B: Do you mind if I take a wild guess?

J: sure, go shoot your shot.

B: You look up to Darcy. What you’re not sure about is whether to share that information or not.

J: i’m starting to hate how astute you are, Your Majesty.

B: HAHAHAHA

B: Why thank you very much. 🥰

8. What do you think had the biggest impact on you growing up?

B: Javi and I both agree that our answer here is the same as the one we gave in #4 LMAO

9. Are you a spiritual person?  If yes, what do you practice?

J: i was raised a catholic but now i really don’t practice anything.

B: As for me, I was certainly raised to practice not giving a fuck about the gods.

10. Where were you born?  Where did you grow up?  Where do you live now?

B: Born and raised partly in Tenebrae and currently living here once more. The rest of my childhood was spent between Leide and Insomnia.

J: born and spent most of my childhood in la paz, bolivia until my family and i were moving between one south american city after another in my teens. now i live in kent.

11. What is your favorite type of media (TV, movie, books, etc)?  Name some specific favorites (which shows, movies, books, etc do you like)!

B: Books all the way. And Pablo Neruda has a special place in my heart.

J: it would be movies for me. i am particularly fond of historical drama and war films and my current favourite would be the one scout recommended that i watch, which was the pianist.

12. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be? (on vacation or permanently!)

B: I’m actually interested to go and see where you live, Javi.

J: i could say the same with you.

B: I guess we could exchange cities for a while for a vacation, no?

J: a wonderful idea. you can run my winery and i would…?

B: attend meetings with my advisors, hold court for tenebraeans needing counsel, and help my husband train my queensguard.

J: great. i think i’ll just stick to my winery then.

B: LMAO

13. You’re given an unlimited budget to build anything you want!  What do you build and where do you build it?

B: Rebuild the cities destroyed by the Empire, restore Tenebrae’s historical sights, improve the transport system, create more creative spaces for young people, among many other things.

J: i don’t think i could follow from that excellent response but all i could think of is the same thing but i’ll do it in la paz. fix everything that the cartels have destroyed.

14. What are your favorite music genres?

B: Indie rock and pop and classical.

J: Jazz. And classical, too.

15. Do you play any instruments?  Which ones?  How long have you been playing?

B: Unfortunately I can’t play shit for the life of me LMAO

B: Javi?

J: i’m strangely proud to admit that i do know how to play the guitar. my mother taught me when i was very young and it’s how we spent most of our time together: me playing her favourite songs while she sings along.

16. Describe your perfect day.

B: Breakfast with Gladio and Ellie, a quiet time in the library, a nice swim down at Zoldara Lake, and a day without me having to go about any royal duties. All four would in one day would be absolutely perfect.

J: A good cup of coffee, a walk down the vineyard, drive around town, getting some time with the twins.

17. What makes you laugh?

B: Ellie’s actually pretty funny and witty so she’s the one who makes me laugh the most.

J: bonita made me watch these silly videos of cats from this social media platform and i hate to even admit this but those are funny.

B: I didn’t peg you as someone who would enjoy cat videos. Color me surprised.

18. What’s the best way to cheer you up?

B: A good glass of wine should do the trick.

J: funny you should mention that because wine also cheers me up and i happen to have a winery.

B: Yes that’s me saying I would appreciate a bottle every now and then. As a treat.

19. What makes you sad?

J: can we skip this one?

B: Absolutely not.

J: okay then i guess what makes me sad is thinking about the things i’ve done in the past.

J: your turn

B: I’d say… thinking about the time I lost Ellie’s dad.

20. Describe your biggest pet peeve.

B: Idiots.

J: same.

B: Also people who are just deliberately unkind and those who refuse to change.

J: as bonita would say… big samesies

21. Describe your ideal partner.

B: I am very fortunate to have married my ideal partner and best friend.

J: then i guess i’m very much unfortunate that my ideal partner and i have already divorced.

B: Javi, I shit you not, after this interview I will hook you up with someone.

22. What’s the easiest way to flirt with you?

B: Here’s the thing… sometimes I can be completely oblivious with how flirting works. Which drives my husband mad at times because he’ll be doing this extraordinarily sweet thing and it just registers to me as him being awfully nice because there’s a special occasion LMAO

J: now that’s a relief to hear

B: LOL why!!

J: i just realized that i’m not as awkward as i think i am jajaja

B: HAHAHAH

J: to be perfectly honest, i can quickly get on with it through text or anything in the written form, which is probably the easiest way that anyone could flirt with me. but if it’s done in person, i do have the awful tendency to be oblivious. i have a number of people who have pointed this out, my brother most especially.

B: Now I’m curious to know: how did you and Darcy even started dating when you’re this awkward little duck? Like how did you even flirt with her?

J: texting was still not a thing at that time so i wrote her letters and poems.

B: Are you serious?? you say you’re awkward at flirting when you WROTE HER POEMS? Get the fuck outta here!!

23. Have you ever had a crush on someone?  Do you have a crush now?

B: Um, yes. And not to be an absolute sap but my crush now is my husband?

J: don’t worry, that is completely valid.

24. What would you consider your main love language?

B: I can’t say I only have one main love language; I’m actually inclined on both quality time and acts of service, for sure. I love doing things for the ones I love and whenever I get to spend time with them, and I very much appreciate it when they do the same.

J: i’m a quality time kind of guy, and also physical touch. it is certainly nice to hold someone you love and to be held by them.

B: Goddamn the poet jumped out, good sir! 🤭

[lostacelonnie]

Surviving is one thing but befriending the alt girls? Now thats thriving congrats on the friend acquisition. Oh yeah absolutely thats super cool of your mom. To be so chill. More parents should aspire to be so chill. Birds are just chill dudes who exist & you can see them & its great. Fuck gulls though. They're nice to look at but will be bastards if you have food in some places. Ive been trying to learn german here & there and it is. Something. Mood but for english. Who needs grammer rules fuck em. I dont know polish so i definitely cant say. You probably mentioned it that sounds familiar but dang. Well it at least wont be as bad? My joke answer is gay sex would be less gay than whatever bronya/seele & march/stelle have goin on. My serious answer is that but also that was really well paced & written. Svarog my bro. Love him. Cocolia confrontation had killer music & the interaction with preservation was cool too. Love fire stelle abilities. Mobile is tough but just gotta fuck it we ball through it. Ill definitely have to add rain world to my list. Dredge is like. Lovecraftian horror fishing sim. Its really neat. River city girls is a simple beat em up adventure game where you fight through town doin little quests on your way through the main one. Real fun easy controls & the soundtrack is real good. Please do id love to hear your exploits. Yeah i have work a lot & so does she plus her kids so i dont talk to mine much either. Im getting to the point in star rail where i am catching up like genshin so ill probably log in less on that too unless more story happens or an event catches my eye. After next planet story anyways. Im not far enough in simulated universe to do swarm disaster sadly. Just gotta. Level them characters as usual. Ps5 star rail gave me gepard which he's good but like. I want bronya

YEAH ITS GREAT and thank you!! we have different groups this year and im very happy ab this bc most of the popular girls im scared of that i shared a group with last year are in the other one now. so im chillen. yeah shes VERY epic hehehehe!!!!! love her. YEAH frfr i agree.... ab the gulls as well i almost got Physically Attacked by one when i was on a trip on an island near alicante cos i was hanging out in the sea and went towards a small island not far away from the shore. not knowing there was a gull nest on it. but i took the hint when one started Screaming at me like halfway through. god i am scared of these things. theyre cool but from a safe distance. and ahhh good luck with learning german!! i took 4 years of it in primary school and still dont know a thing. but its a very charming language so maybe when i get a solid hang of spanish, ill revisit it. tho it Is funny to joke with my friends ab how i didnt allow ppl to germanize me. german was mandatory under the nazi occupation and theres this one patriotic song with the lines "nie będzie niemiec pluł nam w twarz / ni dzieci nam germanił" [the german will not spit in our face / nor germanize our children] but these days its often used for jokes ab having to learn the language. and yeah i suppose thats true!! it is what it is. anyway. YEAH i actually agree with both the joking and serious part andkfnjjb ESPECIALLY the cocolia boss fight. GOD that was cool. i honestly dont use fire trailblazer abilities that much but yes she does come in handy. good luck with surviving on mobile o7 also keep me updated if you do end up playing it!!!!!! its unbelievably hard but like. in a good way. OOH BOTH OF THESE SOUND VERY FUN!! speaking of which i have so many games i wanna play..... but i literally just spent around 200zł [a bit under 46 dollars] two days ago [wait im gonna tell you how in a second]. which actually connects to dye update: i redid my hair since it washed off pretty quickly [but ah i look so nice in red] for the very event i ended up spending way too much money on. and yeah fair rn im actually going onto genshin more often than star rail bc the fontaine exploration + catching up on sumeru exploration is just. So fun. havent played swarm disaster yet either...... no time...... i have a Lot of stuff to do for school recently. its been like what. 2 weeks. and we already finished the first chapter from history and were gonna have an exam soon. which im Dreading btw bc for some reason i went for extended history in school despite being physically unable to remember dates. but hey at least extended geography is easy [so far]. so fuck it we ball. anyway ah congrats on getting gepard!!! hes pretty overpowered yeah but i want bronya as well [i say barely ever logging into the game]. which is pretty funny bc i already got 3 5* things on standard in star rail while being like 150 pulls in and they were two claras and GEPARDS LIGHTCONE. which i cant even use on march since i run her in clara teams in which i need the taunt on clara. Lol. but whatever. ANYWAY ABOUT THE EVENT uhhh you Might recall that i went to like a. con-adjacent thing last year. its actually just mainly for buying merch but a Lot of people go in cosplays. anyway i went this year as well and got a bunch of prints [of focalors, fischl, signora, silver wolf, kafka, and miku], and some other stuff [charms of himeko starrail, silver wolf, and kafka, as well as bronya honkaiimpact3rd and kafka pins]. and a very cute choker. so YEAH for the sheer amount of stuff i got id say its a very good price but i still feel bad ab spending so much money in one go sjdkgkgjh

[yellowsunflowerheart]

ABO!!!! God I love it too. 🥹🥹

I always love to see a really smart, independent, strong and powerful but omega Stephen. Everyone believed that he was definitely a strong alpha since he actually hid his real state very well. He is very adamant that he does not want or need an alpha.

He is wary of being open or vulnerable to others because his parents used to see vulnerability as a weakness. As the big brother, he was so used to facing almost everything on his own and never asked for help. He has been so conditioned that he doesn’t need help or anything so he just closes off and deals with it himself.

No one needed to know. Omega or what, he's smarter and more powerful than almost most Alphas!

He keeps fighting, fighting against his biology, social prejudice, fighting for his work, his life and then this world and few people he cares.

He has nothing but himself.

And Tony happened. This tender, kind alpha keeps looking at him like he’s the most precious thing in the world. The man he keeps pushing away but never gives up approaching him.

It was an accident that Avengers found out his omega identity. But surprisingly, nothing changed, they respect and treat him as always.

“Omega or not, it doesn’t matter Stephen. To us, you’re our friend, family, you are you, that’s why we take care of you, protect you. There’s nothing, I repeat, nothing to do with alpha, beta or omega thing. And to me, alpha or beta or omega, it won’t change my love for you, I just love you, that’s it.”

Stephen is an omega, and he finally finds a man and a home that love him for who he is, not for what.

Yeah I guess this might be a little old fashion but still, I couldn’t get enough of this kind of drama. 😂 Thanks anyway, love you!

This just got more and more perfect the longer it went on.

I love the softer dynamics in A/B/O- the love, connection, devotion between Alpha’s, Omega’s and packs. I’ve always enjoyed this far more than the hardcore, more dominate and/or controlling elements that can build A/B/O stories.

I love the thought of Alpha Stephen too, but Doctor Stephen being an Omega is so underrated, and it honestly makes so much sense, because being a doctor is literally a reflection of his regard for life.

The part of him that is able to carry, raise and care for children bleeds into his want to care for and heal patients. He’s good at his job because of his Omega traits. They’re what make him a great doctor, even if he hides behind the Alpha-like counterparts of his true intentions.

Stephen hides his care and shared hurt behind leadership and urgency. He presents a front that compliments his true self rather than letting anyone see who he really is.

It’s a protective instinct, so that he’s not manipulated, or used. It’s not a big deal, because Stephen doesn’t need an Alpha anyway. Doesn’t need love, or companionship.

Stephen has always cared for himself, solved his own problems, carried his own burdens, dried his own tears, so he’s not exactly holding out for a hero to come do it for him. He’s used to the cycle now. He can handle everything, no A necessary because he can cradle life, and nothing is more powerful than that.

So, they can think him an Alpha all they want. In fact, he welcomes it, and eventually, he strives for it.

Then, fifteen years later, he’s a soccer now, and there’s this thing with Tony Stark. It’s an issue, because Tony has seen right through him from the very beginning. He could never hide from Tony.

He didn’t just see Stephen’s leadership and stability when first aid was needed on the battlefield- he noticed the little details, too.

“You’re so gentle, like you’re not literally realigning her bone,” “You have this instinct when it comes to him, like he’s your kid and you’d sacrifice yourself just to buy him more time,” “You always know exactly where everyone is at all times,” “I don’t enjoy this self-sacrificing thing you’ve got going on, Doc.”

Tony picks apart the Alpha and Omega expectations, and instead, he just sees the man. He sees the core, which yes, is Omega, whether Stephen’s willing to admit it or not.

It makes Tony dangerous, because he could undo everything Stephen had worked for.

So, Stephen does everything not to engage. But god he’s the perfect bite to the bait. They can nip back and forth so seamlessly, fight and yet know they have one another’s loyalty no matter the circumstances on the field. He and Tony are like magnets, and Stephen’s losing his grip on his facade.

Truth is, Tony had long guessed Stephen’s true nature, he’d simply kept it to himself, reading the room, but then something goes wrong on a mission one day, and everyone finds out, and Stephen is confronted with that truth.

Stephen gives everyone the cold shoulder, unwilling to admit the truth. He won’t accept downgraded spaces on missions and a babysitter looking over his shoulder. That’s what they do with Omega hero’s in Nepal and other countries, cities, even universes. They’re treated like they’re less capable at their job- Stephen worked too hard for that shit.

Tony found a crack though, and as he always does, he wormed his way in and met Stephen face to face, fire to fire. They fought, and talked, and turns out, Stephen’s worries were all entirely misplaced.

“It didn’t rule my head before, and it doesn’t rule my head now. You’re still the same Stephen I couldn’t bare to watch fight with anyone else.”

Tony doesn’t like Stephen because he’s a capable Omega, doesn’t look at him like he’s a piece of meat, like he’s got these grand plans to reduce Stephen to his perfect little trophy.

Instead, When Tony looks at him with soft eyes, Stephen feels warmth, and pride, and excitement- not fear and resentment. He doesn’t feel like Tony’s claiming him, rather letting him shine- making sure everyone else sees it too.

That fairness bleeds through all corners of the Avengers. Turns out, Stephen’s status didn’t mean a thing. He was still one of their strongest fighters, and they were all happy to admit it.

For the first time, Stephen felt valued simply for who he was.

It was prolific, because to Stephen, ones company says a lot about them.

Tony’s words were empty unless those values were shared by his friends, family, pack.

When all three of Tony’s beloved circles accepted Stephen, Stephen finally let himself fall.

Finally, he stopped tuning out the Omega inside of him, whining and longing and craving the Alpha in perfect reaching distance for them to settle down with. Finally, he let himself feel everything, let himself be drawn in, and finally let himself kiss an Alpha. A good one. One that saw him for who he was.

Stephen didn’t know it could feel Ike this- good, safe, powerful. He’d been so wrong about everything. Being an Omega isn’t weak or a burden, it’s his own personal superpower, and his Alpha husband thinks so too