#I've been agonizing over how to best answer this ask for over an hour

[gwenllian-in-the-abbey]

Hi! 3 and 7 for the ask, please :)

Sorry it took me a few days to get to this, these are great questions! 3. Which of your fics is most different from what you usually write? This was a hard one for me to answer! I suppose Our Fathers Clad in Red is the first fic I have ever co-written, so even though I do not think it is all that different stylistically or thematically from what I usually write, the process of writing it has been very different, but in a good way. I've learned a lot too-- not to hate outlining for one, and I've learned how having two writers with different but complementary styles can really enhance a piece. @aifsaath is a very talented writer and collaborating on it is so much fun that I would gladly do it again, when a year ago I never would have imagined collaborating on a project in the first place!

7. What's your favorite piece of description or narration? It's probably the second to last scene in Chapter 5 of Our Fathers Clad in Red. The entire scene consists of Aegon alone in bed having a particularly bad morning, and I'm fond of the whole scene, but I'll post the two parts like the best below the cut:

Tears pricked his eyes. Just a nightmare, but for a moment he’d felt as if he were there all over again, on that burning battlefield, the smell of roasting bodies— their own men dying along with Rhaenyra’s loyalists, by which dragon's fire no one could say. Criston Cole had pulled him from the saddle, and this Aegon recalled clearly, for there’d been no poppy milk yet to dull his mind, he’d cursed and had called out, his voice booming across the battlefield, “Your king lives! Protect the king!”

Then there had been pain and choking smoke and a voice murmuring the Mother’s prayer and more voices screaming please oh gods please and get it off him, get it off . There had been a brother’s hand latched to his unburnt hand. “Stay with me,” Aemond had said. Aegon had thought he was dying. He remembered having the wild thought that these were his last moments, and they’d be filled with nothing meaningful, only chaos and burning. There would be no final words, no heartfelt goodbyes, just pain and noise and charred flesh. 

It had taken months for the pain to subside enough for him to manage more than a few moments awake at a time. When he started to be allowed longer periods of awareness, he’d found himself an unrecognizable mass of misshapen flesh, and his skin felt like nothing more than his own funeral shroud. He hadn’t yet then found the will to live. That had come later.

The first few months after that, he’d still wanted to die. He’d stopped begging for it at some point, but every time he’d been woken from the poppy-sleep, he’d prayed that he might not wake again. There had been fevers that would come and go, mild infections. Poppy milk had brought sleep and took away the pain, but it left him groggy and nauseous when it wore off. Food never tasted good, and he wasn’t allowed wine. When he wasn’t sleeping, the pain was constant.

He’d cycled from one misery to the next.  Would that he could say he’d been determined from the start to fight for his children, that he’d thought only of his family, but that would be a lie. At first, there had seemed little reason to live if his life was to be nothing but dream-filled sleep punctuated by hours of agonized awareness.

He clutched the blanket, trying to curl himself into a tighter ball, but his legs would not cooperate. Even the more well healed right leg was stiff from the past week of exertion. He was beyond ashamed to admit that occasionally there were moments when he wondered if it had been worth it, if it was still worth it. He was so tired of it, so sick and tired of living like this. There was not a day when some part of him didn’t hurt. 

Now that he was in the capital once again, holding court, there was the fresh indignity of judgment. Bad enough that his healthy young body was no more, he’d lost his looks too, and his dignity as a man. It was almost too much to bear, the lords asking openly if he could still sire children, the women staring at his scarred face and tittering behind their hands. 

______________________________________________________________

In Aegon’s youth, he’d experienced bouts of melancholy, as his mother had called them. Usually, they happened after a visit with his father, and most often they involved copious amounts of wine. Once he had confined himself to his quarters for nearly a fortnight, sleeping the days away only to wake at night and drink until nearly dawn while scrawling maudlin poetry and composing funerary dirges on his lute. Sing this when I die, he’d write in the margins. Sing this one for father. 

Always, it had been his mother who would eventually force her way in, usually once she realized how long it had been since she’d seen her eldest son. Once, a minor marcher lord had come to court with a trio of beautiful daughters and one equally lovely son. When his mother realized she had not seen him flirting with any of the lord’s children even once, she’d immediately become suspicious and had barged into his room with a troop of maids, directing them to tidy up, and then she’d pulled him from bed, bathed him, clothed him, and fed him as if he were six and not sixteen.

He did not write poetry any longer, or songs. His old lute was in the school room, passed down to the children– Jae hated seeing anyone play it but him, but since Rook’s Rest, he’d not even wanted to try. The last poem he’d written had been an apology to his children and Helaena, for all his failures. He’d left it beside her bed, before he’d flown off to battle. The thought of it made his breath hitch and he pressed his face into his quilts, trying uselessly to staunch the flow of his tears. 

[bonesandthebees]

1, 2, and 10 for the ask game

2. answered this one here!

10. at what point in the process do you come up with titles, and how easy or hard is that for you?

it depends on what i'm writing. if it's a smaller project (ie: a one shot or something I work on as a secondary story like nocturnal animals or honey and tangerines) then i literally won't come up with the title till the last minute before posting. if i'm trying to be smart about it i might come up with the title the night before i post it, but there have been many times I don't start brainstorming a title until i literally have the ao3 posting screen open in front of me. this is what I did with clinic actually lol I came up with the title about 30 seconds before I posted it

these titles are sometimes annoying to come up with and a lot of times I'll use song lyrics as titles just to make it easier on myself. other times I just sit and stare at the screen to brainstorm and just go with the first one that sounds good and fits the color scheme in my head.

now when it comes to longer projects like world forgetting, stars, or glass divine then I take some more time to come up with those titles. I spent days agonizing over the title for stars. I brainstormed a list of possibilities and tried to narrow it down based on what fit the colors the best and also just sounded like it fit. glass divine was similar although there was a bit less agonizing. I was brainstorming for a few hours, getting opinions from friends, until I remembered the phrase 'through a glass darkly' and thought of switching it to 'through a glass divine'. immediately it just clicked for the meaning and how it sounded, and while I still held off on making the final decision for a few more hours because the color wasn't perfect, I knew pretty quickly that was gonna be the one

do you know how you want the story to end when you start, or are you just stumbling through the figurative wilderness hoping to find a road?

I always need to know at least three things before i start writing a story. the beginning, the ending, and a vague idea of what happens in the middle. that's how I determine if a story is viable (ie: will I be able to finish it). so yes, I do always know the ending when I start posting. but I've definitely started wips without knowing what the ending is gonna be, but I'll usually figure it out pretty quickly from there

ask game!

[sapphicautistic]

My estranged-ish aunt who was once like a mother to me and who I have lain awake nights literally in this past week stressing out about the unsolveable family conflict that caused the rift, texted my partner in the middle of the night last night saying she'll be in the state briefly this weekend and can we drive 4 hours round trip to meet her halfway for berry picking?

And I know I should go if I have any desire at all to salvage this relationship but even apart from the INCREDIBLY LATE NOTICE making my autistic brain completely freak out, that's an INSANE outlay of energy and she has no idea what she's asking like she genuinely doesn't.

I have two appointments on Thursday next week I'd probably have to reschedule because I would be bedbound for a few weeks after that much exertion and she still has no idea how sick I am and probably thinks it's psychological anyways.

Also we had a family party planned for that day and so I'd have an out BUT she lives thousands of miles away and I'm pretty sure I'd look like an asshole regardless of having a reason, assuming she even believes the reason and doesn't think I made it up to avoid her

Also I'm maybe afraid to go because she's gonna wanna rehash Unsolveable Family Conflict and I do not have that in me and especially will not after sitting up, in a car, for 2 hours which is going to make me feel like death.

But despite all of this I think I SHOULD go and gf says it's my choice but she also thinks I should because this aunt is important to me but IS she anymore? She's turned into a bitter asshole who is so tangled up in her own issues and is projecting them onto others and I feel like I cannot communicate with her even though she used to be the person I could communicate with best. She is a deeply angry person who thinks she isn't and it's always ready to burst out and it makes her very hard to talk to, like even before Unsolveable Family Conflict but over the years it's gotten worse and worse.

I'm very upset and stressed out and I keep crying because I just do not want to be in this position. And I know she almost definitely didn't know herself until last night that she'd be here but I still resent being put in this position because it's so agonizing.

I wish she could just come down and join the family party because that would be a MILLION times less stressful but that would be asking HER (and whoever's with her, unclear) to spend SEVEN hours in the car round trip on what sounds like a very short trip and that's unlikely and she'd probably be resentful if she did

And I'm just on eggshells because like. She didn't even answer my mother's day text/gift, this whole thing feels very tenuous which is upsetting for its own reasons. I wish we could just talk like we used to and I could tell her my situation honestly and she could help me figure out a plan. But instead I have to guess how she'll react to stuff.

And also in addition to the last minute plan change stress there's the stress of not knowing what to expect at the halfway point because I've never been there, I am absolutely not going to go berry picking because I might actually die if they make me walk around after 2 hours sitting up in a car but presumably there's a park somewhere we could sit at? But as an autistic person the way I get less stressed about doing things is to imagine them in detail and I cannot do this for new places.

I SHOULD go but I think I don't want to and idk what to do. I wish she could just come down here, way less chance of a stressful conversation in the middle of people she has to be polite to and I wouldn't have to harm my body by all that travelling.

I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it

[dragonbird505]

AN/EN : Hi there ! It's been a long time but I've been quite busy lately, but I have a bit of time to upload again !

Here's a little story taking place in Mily's early childhood again with the Inukag family while Orion is at school and their parents at work. Hope you enjoy !

Note : Hisui, Setsuna, Moroha, Inuyasha and Kagome belong to Katsuyuki Sumisawa belong and Rumiko Takahashi ; Mily belongs to me.

FR/FR : Coucou ! Ça fait un moment que je n'ai rien publié mais j'étais occupé ces derniers mais maintenant que j'ai un peu de temps j'en profite !

Voici une petite histoire prenant place de nouveau durant la petite enfance de Mily avec la famille Inukag pendant qu'Orion est à l'école et leur parents au travail. En espérant que ça vous plaise !

Note : Hisui, Setsuna et Moroha, Inuyasha et Kagome appartiennent à Rumiko Takahashi et à Katsuyuki Sumisawa ; Mily est mon personnage.

Sore Tooth

”C’mon Mily, it’s okay! Don’t cry!” Hisui sighed, rocking the pup who’s been crying non-stop.

”Oh man… there’s no end to this.” Setsuna groaned, face in her hands.

Mily’s been crying for hours, very loudly. Setsuna and Hisui tried their best to calm her down but Towa, Riku and Rion weren’t there to help them and it’s starting to get agonizing ”What’s happening here?” Kagome asked, ”I can hear her from a mile away.”

”Auntie Kagome… please help.” Hisui asked with an exhausted voice.

”We can’t stop her! We don’t know what to do!” Setsuna followed, hopelessly.

The priestess came to look at the baby: her face was red, from crying but the inside of her mouth was beet red and her little fang had a bit of blood on it ”I think I know what’s going on.” She said softly with a smile.

”Seriously?” The teens asked.

”Yeah and I’m pretty sure Inuyasha and Moroha will know what to do.” She answered by taking the baby in her arms ”You guys can stay here and rest, you look exhausted.”

It didn’t take long for the two of them to fall flat asleep in their beds, they worked the entire night and having a crying baby on top really didn’t help.

Kagome went to her house where her husband and daughter were eating lunch. ”Oi Kagome, you’re late.” Inuyasha said with his mouth full of ramen.

”Waaa! Waaaa!” Mily cried her lungs out.

”Oh boy. The little guy’s not feeling well.” Moroha sighed after swallowing her food.

”Yeah, but I think you guys might know what’s happening.”

”Oh really? Let’s see.”

Moroha just took one good look at the baby and it was enough to tell the problem ”Lemme guess, sore tooth, isn’t it?” Inuyasha said without even looking.

”Yep, definitely.” She followed.

”Sounds like you had the same problem.” Kagome said by sitting near her husband.

”Oh boy. Yeah.” He groaned.

”I had sore teeth when I was younger after I used my rouge for the first time.” Moroha followed ”Since I had two fangs growing out of my mouth forcibly and I bled a bit too.”

”Still, it’s different here.” Her father said ”Like me, Mily’s born as a naturally fanged Hanyou. Since her teeth aren’t out yet, unlike yours were, her only newborn fang is getting just a little too big for her mouth on top of having her other teeth coming in.”

”Now that you said it, she’s almost two and her parents told me she didn’t have any teeth yet so the teething is just starting.” Kagome remarked ”So, what can we do?”

”Taking the blood off first, it’s like she murdered someone.” Moroha said seeing that poor Mily’s mouth was full of blood ”I’ll take care of that. Do you guys know where to find painkillers to calm her down ?”

”I can make these in no time.” Kagome said.

”I’ll take care of that nasty fang.” Inuyasha followed by getting up ”Be right back.”

Moroha quickly prepared warm water to give the little girl a bath. She was in pain, blood all over her face ”Poor little guy, I know how much it hurts.” She said softly, trying to calm the baby which worked only a little.

She wrapped her up in a towel and dried her up. Slowly Mily calmed down a little, Moroha could tell she was in pain ”Mom? Are you done with the medicines?” She asked by putting the baby in a tiny kimono.

”Yes! Be right there.” Kagome answered by getting closer to them ”Okay mini Mily, down the hatch.” She cooed by putting a tiny spoon full of medicines inside the baby’s mouth.

Mily frowned because it was bitter but she swallowed it ”Poor baby, it’s really painful, isn’t it?” Kagome said to the teary eyed little girl.

”Yeah but it’ll be over soon little guy, I promise.” Moroha said softly by nuzzling her belly.

”Oi! Is it done yet?” Inuyasha asked by getting in with a little demon bone.

”Dad… Why the hell did you bring that?!” She asked by smiling.

”You’ll see. Is the painkiller working?”

”It’s starting.” Kagome said with the baby in her arms. ”But we can’t get her to stop crying.”

”Give her to me. My mom used to do something to help ease the pain when it happened to me.”

The three of them sat on the bed, and Inuyasha held her tiny head by rubbing her cheek with his thumb. Her eyes were shut in pain, tears flowing down but slowly her expression softened as her tiny tail wagged, the pain was calming down ”I can’t believe it.” Kagome gasped.

”How did you do that Dad! You’re amazing!”

”Keh! Nothing that little one can hanndle! Right chibi?” He asked the baby who was staring at the bone he held in his other hand ”You want that?”

He wiggled the bone as Mily tried to catch it so he gave it to her then she started nibbling on it. Kagome could only say ”Aw!” and Moroha just smiled warmly at the pup and soon a tiny white solid fell out of her mouth and Inuyasha immediately caught it ”Here we go! All set and done!” He said by opening his hand, revealing this tiny, nasty fang.

”Aww Inu, you’re such a good dad!” Kagome cooed.

”He always has been! Best Papa ever!” Moroha followed by hugging him.

”Keh! I know that, girls!” He said boldly.

”Arooo! Haha!” Mily cooed happily.

”Aww but it’s kinda sad, her adorable fang is gone!” His wife whined.

”Who said it was?” He asked, ”Look.” He said by opening her tiny mouth revealing a new little fang.

”Oh my god! This is precious!” She said happily.

”A whole new one is coming! You’re gonna be a little warrior! Good girl!” Moroha followed.

As the girls were gushing over the little guardian Inuyasha was looking at her and seemed so relieved ”You’re already a little warrior, Chibi.”

[kandulce]

ur good at what u do it’s only a matter of time before u get many monies and famous 😩 manifesting

asdsahagsdgyas cool cool cool yeah yeah okay cool alright yep I’m so chill I am s. O chill rn yes.

I am going to get so famous and cool I’m going to be able to afford a small cozy apartment for me and my three weed-smoking girlfriends and we’re gonna go on picnics and take turns cooking dinner and— ah fuck I don’t think yearning counts as manifestation does it

fr tho thank you. I appreciate you going out of your way to compliment my work; your approval means,,,,,, Quite A Bit to me

[jedipoodoo]

Hey! I was wondering if you could do a Hunter x fem/royalty reader. I've been reading the amount I could find but there aren't that many. You don't have to, but I would love it if you could. Have a nice day!

With how popular this trope is, there should be A LOT more fics of it out there 😌

PS- as a bonus enjoy my favorite HunterxRoyal!Reader by my dear @emperor-palpaminty

Notes: Escape from an arranged marriage, fake kidnapping, female reader, rekindling an old romance. Sidenote whatever tumblr did to update its desktop posting is terrible and I hate it plz put that thing back where it came from.Word Count: 3227

Let Your Heart Win (Hunter x Royal!Reader)

"Are you ready, my lady?"

Your old nanny tried her best to sound upbeat and excited, you had to give her credit for that. You braced yourself, and looked in the mirror. If this day ended the way it was supposed to, you would never be fully prepared for what each day would hold for you. If it all went terribly wrong, you would be trapped for the rest of your life, which, from the disposition of your fiance, could be anywhere from twenty-four hours to the rest of your miserable, agonizing years.

Grand Admiral Vance was not one to be trifled with.

On your homeplanet, green was worn on wedding days to signify life and joy, but the ornate green and gold robe your mother had worn on her wedding day was far too heavy and ominous for the joy it was supposed to bring.

There was a soft knock at your door, and one of your maids answered it. Your father entered, his crown slightly askew and dark circles bagging beneath his eyes.

He ran to you and hugged you tightly. You dismissed your maids, of course you would want to spend tie with your father before you were married.

"Did the message go through?" You whispered through the lump in your throat.

Your father nodded. "Avi Singh was true to his word. The extraction team should be touching down now."

Your heart raced in anticipation. Now all they had to do was break through Admiral Vance's security, which, according to your father's old friend from Raxus, wouldn't be a problem.

"It will be alright, my blossom," your father promised, "I will be by your side the whole day."

Before you could voice any more of your worries, Vance's personal guard burst into your room without fanfare, to escort the king and his daughter to her wedding.

You held your father's arm tightly. Vance's guards formed up closely around you, to prevent any of your father's men from helping you escape. none of your people were happy with the new Empire, and they knew it. Your father had encouraged his people not to rebel for their safety, but they refused to listen. Admiral Vance had been personally assigned by the Emperor to ensure a firm hold on your system, and he had approached your father with a plan. Hand over control peacefully, or face a bloodbath.

Your planet had lost so much during the Clone Wars, and your father insisted as much to the Admiral. your people were stubborn, they would revolt either way. You still shivered at the memory of Vance's eyes on you at that comment. As your father's only heir, you were present at all his meetings to prepare to take the crown one day, and Vance knew this.

He'd presented the final ultimatum to your father. The people loved their princess, and would never want any harm to come to her. You could marry the Admiral, and he would legally become next in line for the throne, or the Empire would wipe out your people from the skies.

You agreed, only for your people.

That was only two weeks ago. there had barely been time to perform any of the proper rituals before your wedding, and during that time, your father heard how one of his old friends, Avi Singh, had escaped the empire's hold. Desperate to protect his only child, your father called in secret to ask how he had done it.

By the end of the day, you would know Senator Singh's experience for yourself.

The doors of the cathedral opened with a fanfare that sounded more like a funeral march than a wedding march. The guests stood solemnly, and more than a few tears were shed on your behalf as your father walked you down the aisle. You stared straight ahead, determined to put on a brave face for your people and let Vance know that he had no control over you.

Approaching the altar could only be done with your husband-to-be. At the foot of the dias, your father kissed your cheek.

"I love you," He whispered with tears in his eyes. You tried to hold onto his hand as long as you could. If all went well, this could be the last time you ever saw him.

Impatiently, Vance snatched your hand away, and nearly dragged you up the stairs as you tried to preserve what dignity you had left. His white suit was as stiff as a tree, how could he be comfortable in that? The old priest gave you a sympathetic smile in pity, and you nodded in respect. He began to recite the old vows of marriage. Vance's mustache twitched in irritation as the mantras droned on and on, and you silently prayed that Senator Singh's extraction team was taking advantage of the time provided to them.

Then, a shadow flickered behind the stained glass windows. One to your left, one on the right, close by Admiral Vance's men, and one hulking figure in the window, just above the altar.

Several members of the audience gasped, but before any of the Admiral's men could do anything, all the windows in the chapel shattered.

Vance screamed, and you saw the glass embedded in his arm as you bent down to cover yourself. Blaster bolts whizzed overhead as smoke filled the room. You coughed as your eyes watered, blurring your vision.

"Hurry, Princess, this way," Someone grabbed your arm. It wasn't harsh enough to be Vance's men, and you didn't recognize any of the voices of your guard. It was time to go.

You nodded, and let them help you to your feet, casting aside your wedding robe. You trusted their guidance as their arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you through the crowd and out into a side hallway that was also full of smoke. You could faintly make out a helmet that had to be helping them keep their senses in the smoky haze, but you had to wait until they found one of their companions to offer you a rebreather.

"Deep breaths, your highness," A new voice said, their hand squeezed your shoulder as both of them helped you out into the side gardens. the overgrowth provided the perfect cover from Vance's men as you caught your breath.

You wiped your eyes on your sleeve, and coughed up some of the ash from the smoke.

"Guess Wrecker's plan worked a little too well," The second rescuer chuckled. "What's Tech's ETA?"

You blinked up at your first rescuer as your vision cleared. They had long, shoulder-length curls, and half of their face was etched in a tattoo you knew too well.

"Hunter?"

He chuckled half-heartedly. "Hey Princess."

Two years of heartbreak ran through your mind in two seconds, before a familiar engine sounded overhead.

"Time to go!" You didn't recognize Hunter's companion, but he wore the same kind of armor as the rest of the Bad Batch, so you knew you could trust him.

Tech let down two grappling cables from the Marauder. Hunter wrapped his arm around your waist, yanking you against his chest as he took the first one. You wrapped your arms around his chest as you were suspended in the air for a brief moment before being pulled aboard the ship.

"Hey Princess! Long time no see!" Wrecker grinned at you as he yanked their other friend aboard. the ramp closed just as the alarms sounded in the city below, and the momentum from the engines threw you off your feet into hunter's chest. He still wouldn't let go of you.

"You alright?" He whispered. You were frozen at the tender gesture with which he pushed your hair back from your face, as if you hadn't broken his heart the last time he saw you.

This was not what you had expected of the extraction team.

The self-proclaimed "Bad Batch" had helped you free your planet from Separatist control halfway through the war. The Republic thought your planet a lost cause, but you had begged for help to free your father from a Separatist prison. Clone Force Ninety-Nine was your saving grace.

At first, their Sergeant's complete disregard for protocol and rules had driven you insane, until he had pointed out that they were breaking all sorts of rules to even come and help you in the first place. Then they had stayed around to free your planet even after your father was rescued. There was no one you trusted in the galaxy more than the Bad Batch.

But did they trust you?

"I-I'm fine," You whispered, pushing away from him to catch your breath.

"Hi! I'm Omega! What's your name?"

They had a child with them. Oh gods, they had a child with them. And all the same, this child beamed up at you. She had the same bright, shining eyes that Hunter did, and she smiled without hesitation.

"Uh...hi?" You introduced yourself, and little Omega pulled you to sit down in one of the Marauder's old worn seats.

"Hunter says that you're a princess. Do you have a crown?" She asked.

"Ah- not anymore?"

"Oh. Well, what about a prince?" She pressed.

"That's who she was trying to escape from, Omega," The new clone said gently.

"Hunter's 'er prince!" Wrecker laughed loudly, and you flushed.

"Wr-Wrecker!" Hunter scolded, looking just as flustered as you felt.

"Hunter's a prince?" Omega's nose wrinkled in confusion.

"Echo! Wrecker! Would you and Omega help me with the calculations for hyperspace? We still have to escape the Imperial fleet!" Tech shouted loudly.

Though confused, the one named Echo pulled Wrecker and Omega into the cockpit, shutting you and Hunter alone in the hold.

Hunter awkwardly cleared his throat. "Are...are you okay?" He asked. You nodded quickly as the awkwardness sank deep into your bones.

"I'm fine."

You sat up straight, the only way you knew how to deal with embarrassing situations, but the ship shook with blasterfire and you fell out of your seat and on top of Hunter, sending both of you sprawling onto the floor.

Wrecker sprinted from the cockpit, leaping over the two of you as he pulled himself up into the gunner's tail.

"Sorry! Tech said not ta interrupt ya so you could talk but we gotta get rid of these fighters!"

"Since when was Tech giving the orders?" You shook your head, running a hand through your hair.

"He's not," Hunter grumbled. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, pulling both of you to your feet. He sat you back in the seat and pulled the crash webbing over your head before settling in the seat next to you.

"Hunter, are you okay?" You asked. The ship shook again, and you gripped the bar with all your strength.

"Tech, how much longer until we can jump?" Hunter shouted. He ignored your question.

"We just have to clear this Venator-" the ship jerked to the side to avoid a collision.

"Hunter, I just want to say-"

"Echo, Omega better be strapped in-"

"She's fine, Hunter!" Echo snapped back.

"Hunter, for the love of force would you just look at me!?" You screamed.

The ship lurched forward into hyperspace, and you discovered your crash webbing was not as secure as it should have been. You fell from the seat again, but before you could crash onto the floor, Hunter was free of his restraints and caught you, braced between the rows of seats.

Both of you breathed heavily as the ships interior glowed with the familiar blue of hyperspace, unable to look anywhere but at each other.

"Is everyone alright back there?" Omega asked innocently.

You and Hunter scrambled back to your feet. Instead of meeting his eyes, you fixed your gaze on the doorway.

"Thank you, Sergeant," You said.

Hunter sighed. "Anytime, your highness."

He was annoyed. the only time he used that title with you was when you were driving each other insane. He definitely didn't like the idea of coming to rescue you after everything that had occured between the two of you. Might as well make it worth his while.

Tech appeared in the doorway, and glared past the two of you. Wrecker was still watching from the gunner's tail. At Tech's silent scolding, he slowly edged past the two of you and into the cockpit. The door slid shut again, and you were once more alone with Hunter, though it was clear that neither of you were happy for it.

"My father gave me the comm frequency for Senator Singh. As soon as we get somewhere safe I'll give him the signal to wire whatever price you name."

Hunter's eyes shot to yours, burning with fury.

"You think we came to get you...all because of money? You really think so low of me, your highness?"

You shrugged instead of trembling under his gaze, and folded your arms.

"Why else would you? You have no connections with me and my people anymore."

Hunter shook his head, and chuckled half-heartedly. "Of course, it's always about your people with you."

"It has to be! That's my job, I'm a princess, I can't just do whatever I please, I have a duty to my people just like you have a duty to your brothers!"

"And a fine mess that got you into. Tell me, is Admiral Vance as terrible a kisser as he looks?"

You slapped him, the skin of his cheek reddening beneath the tattoo. The sound echoed in the hold as you both gathered your thoughts.

"I'm sorry," He whispered, "That was uncalled for."

"It certainly was," You wrung your hands to ease the sting in your palm, but Hunter caught it. He always caught your nervous habits.

"Do you want help with that?"

"You've done enough," You huffed.

All the same, Hunter pulled the scanty medikit out from underneath the bench. There wasn't much in there, but he pulled out a half-empty tube of bacta, and squeezed a drop onto his finger. He held out his hand for yours, and you let him see it.

He wiped the bacta onto your palm, and then took your hand in both of his, using his thumbs to massage the gel into your skin. It was a familiar technique, and it almost brought you back to a camp in the mountains, hiding from prying eyes in the shadows of a campfire. Even after the bacta was gone, he continued to hold your hand, and you let him.

"Do you remember the night we took back the captial?" He asked suddenly. You looked up, but Hunter was still looking at your hands.

"Yes?"

"The celebratory fireworks were too loud for me, so you brought me into the cellar of the palace, where it wasn't nearly as loud."

You nodded carefully, "I told you how I always used to sneak down there when I was hungry-"

"-And I was surprised that Proper Miss Princess had ever broken a rule in her life." Hunter chuckled. The anger was gone, but his eyes still seemed to glow when he looked up at you.

You pulled your hand from his grasp, and took the bacta from the kit.

"You need some on your cheek." Hunter didn't protest as you gently nursed the wound you had given him. It wouldn't leave a scar or anything, but Hunter's senses made him sensitive. You bit your lip at the guilt that swamped your stomach, and then Hunter gently wrapped his hand around your wrist.

"I think about that night all the time," He confessed.

You froze. You did too, but you would never tell him that. It was the last night you had to be free of of societal conventions and classes before you were officially a princess again. You had held his head in your lap, carding your fingers through his hair as he sang to you. In the darkness, alone, with no nosey eyes watching your every move.

And then he'd kissed you.

He'd kissed you and you'd never wanted it to stop, you would have traded the entire galaxy for him.

The day following that had been a nightmare. You remembered yourself. You remembered why you could never be with him, that having him would come at much too high a cost for your people. You jumped back from him and tossed the bacta back into the medikit.

"I'll go ask Tech how far we are from the meeting point."

You tried to make a break for the cockpit, but Hunter grabbed your harm and held you tightly.

"That was the night you told me you loved me."

You were silent.

"Did you mean it?"

"No." you answered too quickly. Your entire body revolted at that answer. Your legs quaked and your eyes burned. Why did you feel this way? You had years to come to terms with this reality. You could never have Hunter. You could never truly be his, not while the millions of people of your planet depended on you.

Hunter knew you were lying.

"Princess," He begged, "Tell me the truth."

You took in a shuddering breath. "I told you the truth."

"No," He shook his head, and came around to face you again, "You told me what everyone expects you to say, because you're a princess and you have to do the right thing.

"Now tell me again. What do you say?" He asked.

A lump swelled in your throat and your eye squeezed shut, but you could still feel Hunter in front of you.

"What do you say?" He repeated, and you could feel his lips ghosting against your forehead, "The woman who never lets anyone see that they got the best of her, the woman who can take out three super battle droids with one bolt, the woman who's always put an entire planet above her own needs, a woman who told off General Grievous when he threatened to chop off your head, the woman who will sit beside you until you fall asleep at night because you had a nightmare. The woman I-"

"Yes!" You gasped, you couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Yes, Hunter, I love you."

When you looked up at him, Hunter almost looked surprised that you had actually admitted it.

"You mean it?" He whispered, caressing your hair. His lips were an inch from yours.

"I do."

He held the back of your head, and you clung to the lip of his chestplate as his arm circled your waist, pulling you in for a kiss that was long overdue. Your hand slid up behind his neck, entangling in his hair. It was just as soft as you remembered it. He groaned softly into your mouth as you tugged, and he pulled you even closer.

"I love you," He whispered against your lips.

"I missed you," You said shyly.

He chuckled softly, "I missed you more."

You rested your head against his chest, and he gently swayed back and forth with you in his arms.

"Hunter?"

"Yes?"

You squeezed Hunter's arm, "Thank you. For saving me from doing the proper thing for once in my life."

He chuckled, and gently kissed your forehead. "Anytime, Princess."

You still had no idea what your next move would be, but now you knew that you weren't going to have to do it alone.

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 10

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

A/N: Thank you guys so much for the support and feedback! I'm so glad you're enjoying this fanfic <333 Feel free to like, reblog and comment. Would love to hear more of your thoughts! Love u guys <3

CHAPTER TEN

Just like last time he was here, Bucky grabbed some cereal box, poured the contents on a bowl followed by a tall glass of milk dumped over, making a mess on the kitchen island like a ten-year-old kid. You just finished changing into some new clothes when he finished pouring the milk in the bowl.

You followed into the kitchen, pouring yourself a hot cup of coffee from Peter's new coffee maker he got just two weeks ago and cleaned the mess that Bucky had left.

"How is it," you started just as he was about to walk out, "that you can flawlessly make a drink without making a huge mess but not with a cereal?"

He plopped down on the couch and placed his feet on the coffee table and turned on the television. He shrugged in response, eating a mouthful. "I was just trying to impress you. You're Peter's best friend. I want you to like me."

You just hummed and sat down on the love seat as soon as you finished, lifting your knee to your chest and letting the warm liquid slide at the back of your throat, letting the caffeine sit in me. You gave him no response as you didn't know what else to tell him. You just gazed at him, watching him like a hawk, as he continued to take a mouthful.

But you weren't staring at him like you did before. You were, somehow, trying to read his mind because the person sitting right now on your couch felt and looked so much different from the person who kept giving you lingering stares at the bar. One moment he was complimenting your photos, and the next your face. It felt like there were two of him and you didn't know which one attracted you more.

No one had ever looked at your photos the way he did. No one had ever talked about your photos the way he did. And no one had ever succeeded in getting a sudden yet fleeting internal reaction from you by calling you "doll."

"It's rude to stare, doll."

Except Bucky.

You apologized, and averted your gaze from him towards the television screen which showed the news channel. You took a huge sip of your coffee and ignored the searing pain of the hot liquid on the roof of your mouth. That's gonna leave a mark.

You hibernated inside your room for the next few hours, watching some sitcom on your laptop. You would hear Bucky yelling at the television screen from time to time or into his phone. Some names unfamiliar to you were mentioned. You hated the feeling of isolating yourself from the world but here you were, cocooning because you didn't know how else to be around Bucky after what happened that one night.

Plus, it felt like you were a child stuck with your babysitter.

He would knock on your door, check up on you, ask you if you needed some snacks, or if you wanted to do anything else besides locking yourself up in your room. The last time he called out for you, he was asking you to lunch, to the little Italian place across the building. Starving, you agreed to come with him only if he paid.

He just shook his head with a smile on his face. "I feel like you're taking advantage of me."

"I am." You said, locking the apartment door behind. "It's not like everyday I'm out with a rich guy."

"You gotta stop calling me that. I'm not rich rich."

"Compared to me, Buck," you said, "you are. Come on, let's go, I'm starving."

Just as you anticipated, Marco was beaming at you two once you entered his place, clearing a way for you, parting the customers like Moses did with the Red Sea. He pulled out two chairs for you and Bucky. Marco, as you assumed, was more than happy to see Bucky and more of his money. Bucky shook hands with Marco, thanking him.

Once you ordered, you turned towards Bucky who was busy looking at the photos of the gorgeous places in Italy on the walls. There was a bridge of silence between you as you continued to stare at him, still trying to read him. He may be an open book but it felt like his pages were complete blanks. Pages that were deep, far away from the cover, hidden and hoping to never see the light of day.

"Hey, Bucky?" you said, grabbing his attention. "What did you mean that night? When you told me I was something else? And please, don't give me one of those 'you're not like most girls' crap." You gave a snort of disgust.

He chuckled, biting the inner part of his lower lip before speaking. "I wasn't, anyway. You just intrigue me, that's all."

You subtly glance at him. "I intrigue you?"

"Yes, honestly you do. And you're fun to be with. It's not everyday someone agrees with me to scare off a one night stand the first day we meet." He laughed. "And I would like to get to know you better. And not just here."

You knitted your brows together in utter confusion. "Wait, what do you mean not just here?"

He shrugged, his eyes leaving yours and looked at somewhere else besides you. "Like outside."

"Like outside?" You repeated, the realization dawning on you. "Bucky, are you asking me out on a date?"

Bucky lifted his head and proceeded to look at the spotty ceiling, his lips curved downward. "If you want it to be."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "I don't think it's a good idea."

Then, he shot his head towards you, an agonizing frown marring his perfectly chiseled face. "Why not?"

You could think of many reasons why it would be a bad idea. First, you haven't been on a date for a very long time. Every person who had asked you out never had the luck of receiving a good answer from you. Second, Bucky was a complicated man.

And third, it would feel like betraying Peter.

"You're Peter's stepbrother." You sighed, defeated. "I can't do that to him."

"Right. Peter."

Marco came just about damn time to give you your newly-cooked food. Bucky ordered the same thing he got last time he was here: an Aglio Oglio pasta, paired with two large slices of pizza and garlic bread while you got a footlong Italian sub dripping with Marco's secret family sauce he never dared reveal. Marco said something in Italian before going back to the counter to tend to other customers.

Bucky smiled at you before you started digging in and began to speak. "How about this? Just two friends hanging out, not in the apartment, not here, not even at the bar, and getting to know one another. No funny business. Just like this. How does that sound?"

"As long as you promise not to give me those weird creepy stares you've been giving me since last night."

"Please, you also couldn't keep your eyes off me." He rolled his eyes. "Plus, I do have to admit you do look hot making drinks." He scrunched up his nose, taking a bite of his pizza without his eyes leaving yours.

A wave of confidence surged right through you, prompting you to ask this next question: "Did the whole cleavage thing push things?" You winked.

Bucky tilted his head to the side, just like he did this morning in the apartment, swallowing his food. "I'm not gonna lie, doll, that was also pretty hot."

"You should thank my friend Nat for that then."

He smirked. "I'll be sure to. So, uh, are you in?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"Well, I don't know how you kids these days ask things. Is it like that? I feel like it is."

You rolled your eyes, chucking a piece of garlic bread to his face. "I'm not a kid. By the way, how old are you?"

"I'm turning thirty-nine next month."

"Thirty-nine." You repeated. "Wow, if we were to go on a date, you'd be the oldest guy I've dated."

"Well, I'd be honored."

After your little lunch, Bucky went back to his office in his penthouse to deal with a few things with his associates while you, on the other hand, headed to the bar and started to fix all the stuff accordingly. A few hours later, Nick and Nat silently creeped up behind you, scaring the shit out of you and nearly making you drop the bottle of whiskey you were holding. You scolded both of them which they just, in turn, shrugged off.

You pulled Nat into one of the booths, making sure you were out of Nick's sight and wouldn't be able to hear you.

"Bucky kind of asked me out on a date." You whispered.

"Holy shit, I knew it. I knew he has the hots for you!" She said with a voice louder than you would've liked.

"Sshh, keep your voice down! I don't want Nick to hear this."

"Oh right, 'cause of the whole thing."

"Yes." You replied. "So anyway, I told Bucky it wouldn't be a good idea because it feels like I'm betraying Parker."

"He's just his stepbrother. Honey, you wouldn't be betraying anyone at all."

"But Parker's my best friend -- "

"Exactly." Nat's eyes bore into yours. "He's just your best friend, not your boyfriend so go date whoever you want to date. Just not Nick. He's kind of a loser."

"Isn't there some kind of code?"

"Like a bro code?"

"Yes, something like that."

"Did you and Peter have an agreement that you shouldn't date his stepbrother?"

You shook your head no.

"Then it's okay."

"Isn't dating your friend's siblings a part of some unspoken rule?"

She rolled her eyes at you, obviously fed up with all the excuses you have been trying to make. "As long as you're not hurting anyone then it's fine."

An exasperated sigh came out of your mouth. "Well, Bucky seemed to kind of agree to it, so what was supposed to be a date turned into just friends hanging out and getting to know each other. His words, not mine."

"Right, and once you get to know each other, you two can go on expensive dates and such."

"I don't know, it doesn't feel right."

"Now, now, don't be too sudden with that thought. Deep down you kind of want this to happen. If you didn't, you wouldn't be having second thoughts about this."

Oh, what you would give to prove Nat wrong but there was nothing else you could give because you knew she was right. You were fleetingly staring at Bucky as much as he did with you. And right from the get-go, there was spontaneity which opened up a whole new thrill in you. Something you never thought you'd ever feel.

The rest of the night felt excruciatingly slow.

There were some familiar faces in the crowd and some unfamiliar ones brought in by the regulars, having fun on Saturday night. While you were taking orders and making drinks left and right, your eyes kept roaming in the nameless faces inside the bar, hoping to see Bucky but your hopes were crushed when you found no sign of him. You were forced to take your mind off him for once as you were flooded with more orders, and complicated drinks that weren't on the menu. In the middle of your shift, there was even a small argument between a college student and a man in his thirties at the pool table. Eventually, the man, assaulting the poor boy, got kicked out of the house by Steve which was just a piece of cake with all the muscles he was packing.

Steve approached you with a stern look on his face. "If you see that guy again, don't let him in anymore alright? I don't want any fights in my bar."

"Got it." You said, taking note of the man's face from earlier. You warned the other bartenders beside you and the waitresses going around. You sighed, thinking to all the times you've told Steve to hire bouncers for the place but he just said:

"What do you need bouncers for when I'm here?"

And it was kind of hard to argue with that because it did make sense. The only problem was he was always cooped up in that small office of his. You never bothered to learn the secrets he was keeping in there. He couldn't always be doing work stuff. But after a few weeks of working with him, it was best to let those things slide as he was your boss.

Once your shift ended, you texted Bucky where he was but you never got a reply. You exchanged numbers right before he went back to the White Wolf.

You were greeted by an unlocked apartment once you got there but there was no sign of Bucky.

"Bucky?" You called out his name as you removed your jacket and placed it on the coat rack just beside the door. "Are you here?"

Silence answered you back. You went into your room and changed your shirt into something a bit more comfortable: an oversized sweater. A few seconds after you changed, you received a message from Bucky telling you to go to the rooftop.

You immediately went up, the chilly New York air touching your cheeks. You emerged from the ladder with a bewildered look crossing your face. The once grimy floor of the rooftop was perfectly cleaned up, leaving no dust and dirt behind. There were two large crates in the middle, big enough for two people to sit on. On top of the crate were a large box of pizza (you assumed it was from Marco's), and two bottles of ice cold beer.

"What on earth?" You gasped, finding Bucky emerging from behind a big box just casually standing against the brick walls.

"Hey, doll." He greeted you with a cheeky smile.

You stepped towards him, enveloping yourself in a hug in an attempt to warm yourself up against the cool air. "Did you clean our rooftop?"

"I may or may not have. Who knows? Anyway, I got us some pizza. I figured you were hungry from your late shift."

As a matter of fact, you really were. Drained from the endless orders and demands, you usually didn't have the time to sneak a bite of food or even a sip of water.

"I got the pizza from Marco's. He's a really nice man and was more than glad to see me when I stopped by."

"Of course he was." you laughed, sitting down on one of the crates. You opened the box, your mouth already drooling from the sight of Marco's mouth-watering pizza. "He likes the dough. Ha! Get it?"

He rolled his eyes at you but with a hint of a small smile in his lips as joined you on the crates. "So, are you gonna spend the night in the apartment?" You asked.

"Yes."

"What, got another girl back in the penthouse?" You teased, nudging his shoulder.

He gave you a throaty, sarcastic laugh. "This time, no."

"Too bad. I was ready to give a performance of a lifetime." You chuckled, glancing at him sideways and catching him with a big smile on his face.

You looked around you. The only source of light you had was the city lights towering above, and ahead of you. "You know," you started, "if you hung those little lights on the walls or just above us, this would seem like a date."

He pretended to wipe some sweat off his forehead. "Phew, dodged a bullet over there huh?"

You giggled, tipping the cap off the ice cold light beer and bringing the top of the bottle to your mouth. The liquid felt cold in your mouth but soon warmed up, nestling inside your stomach.

"This is nice." you commented then started to ramble on some more. "It'd be nicer to see New York during sunset though. Ever since I got the night shift in the bar, I rarely do. It's all the traffic and bright city lights."

You painted Bucky a picture of the last sunset you've watched. You had no recalling memory when it was but you remembered it as another cold day (but not as cold as tonight). The colorful sunset hues plastered in the high skies. Seeing it from the rooftop felt like they could easily be reached, as if they were wanting to be touched. And without a warning, the sun started to go down millisecond by millisecond.

"To others, what happens after a sunset is just another sign of the darkness to come. And then poof, city lights." you continued, then proceeded to gesture at the sky. "But for me, the feeling after a sunset is what I love the most. The sun wallowed in serenity in the pale break of light in between those dark clouds forming. Ugh, I just love that."

"I see what you mean." Bucky hummed, withdrawing his eyes to the sky to look at you. "It's like an afterglow."

"Yes, like an afterglow." You agreed, meeting his intense gaze. "If seeing something so beautiful makes you feel good then the after of it all must be... more pleasurable."

"A lot of people tend to miss that detail after sunset." He replied. "But not you. You're a photographer, y/n. The details in nature, in people are some things you can never miss."

You just hummed in response, taking a huge sip of your beer. " So, when did your love for photography start?" Bucky asked.

"It started when I was young." You replied. "I would play around with my parents' digital cameras, take photos of literally everything around me, especially when we were on vacation. It was just a hobby then. I never thought of it as a means of living until I was in college. God, I hated business school. Every second of it. I just did it to make my parents happy but I really wanted to be out there, embracing people, embracing everything in life. It's like -- "

"Capturing people's stories in a different light?" He continued for you, as if reading your mind.

"Exactly." You smiled, quite happy that he saw it the way you usually did.

"If it wasn't for the hotel business I also would've been an artist. Maybe an actor."

"So, why didn't you?"

"Because business is all I know." He sighed. "Tony Stark, the guy who adopted me, taught me everything there was to know. As he was building his empire, he pulled me towards it and now, I'm running one of his hotels. Y'know, I don't think of him as a father or anything. More like a friend, a wingman."

And just like that, Bucky peeled himself like an onion. Slowly. Layer by layer by layer. But then he stopped. He opened his mouth to say more but then he decided to stop. You waited but nothing else came out. As much as he wanted to know you, you too wanted to know him — and not just his wild adventures but the things that were deeper than that.

It felt nice to talk to Bucky this way. Actually, it wasn't just nice. It was very comfortable that it gave you a warm sensation on your chest.

Seeing that he wasn't as comfortable as he was before opening up, you steered to a different topic. "Have you ever felt that kind of feeling?" you asked.

"What feeling?"

"The afterglow feeling."

"No," he chuckled, "I don't think so. I'm stuck in a routine, y/n. Business, party, booze, girls. Nothing exciting, nothing out of the ordinary. Everything's the same, everything feels like nothing after."

You agreed with him. "I guess I'm also stuck in a rut." You harmonized with his laughter, seeing your life flash before your eyes. "Cheers to that."

With that, you drank the night away.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ THE PROPOSITION ❜

with Angel Reyes.

Chapter Three, final. Index.

Request #1: Hola! Angel asking for Felipe to have Marisol's ring cause he went to propose to his girlfriend. But Felipe says No cause he thinks EZ deserve its more. ( And cause WE know he love EZ more ) So Angel is like " Fuck this shit" And either is breaks in Felipe house to steal this ring Or Either he go brought the biggest and perfect ring ! 🤩

BY ANON

Request #2: Hey! Angel do something very impressive for his girlfriend ( like big and impressive asking for marriage or Travel 5 states just for see her) and this ending by Felipe being very impressive by his Sons and take conscience he is a bad dad for Angel. 🙏❤️🤟🤟

BY ANON

Warnings: none.

Word count: about 3k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: @pantherclawz

Masterlist.

Almost one week without hearing his voice. Receiving one or two text messages per day, just to tell you that he's tired or that he's working. You know he is hiding something, confirming your suspicion when EZ began to decline all your calls. And, when you talked with Felipe three days ago, the only thing he told you was that he didn't know anything about his kids. So you started to think the worst. At first you thought that maybe Angel had an accident and his brother was trying to cover him, but when you called Bishop this morning, you heard your boyfriend's voice saying that he was ‘going to pick up the girl’. And now, you don't know what to think.

Licking your lips, sitting in the back garden of the house, you play with your phone between your fingers. It's almost midnight and it's a little cold outside, wearing nothing but an Angel's shirt. You decide to call him again, but it's his voicemail who answers again, even if you shouldn't be doing it after drinking too many beers, while your friends are sleeping and resting for the last seminar the next morning. But you wait for the last tone.

“Hey, it's me… your girlfriend, remember? I've been calling you… I don' know, maybe the fucking whole day. Where the fuck are you, Angel? And don't you fucking dare to tell me that you were working, 'cause I heard you this morning talking about some bitch to pick up. But fo' say something, first you have to answer the fucking phone!”

Sounds pathetic the way you are talking to him, saying all the things that you wouldn't say to him being sober. Hiccuping, you find yourself crying unconsolable, with an agonic pain oppressing your chest and squeezing your heart.

“Just… two fucking weeks, Angel! You couldn' keep your fucking dick inside your pants, for two fucking weeks! Is that the… shit I mean to you? Two years thrown overboard because of what? How many times have you done it, ah? All these… shit about not calling during a run… were you doing the same shit, Angel? How many fucking times has you betrayed me?!”

You can't help but laugh bitterly, cleaning your tears with the back of your hand, trying to calm yourself and to not wake up anyone.

“I fucking love you… with all my heart. I didn' complain about anything, never…” Although your voice sounds low and a little bit calmed, inside you there's a storm devastating you. “I put you first, always, since the first moment I met you… I can't fucking believe you're gonna lea—leave me and… the way you're doing it… I thought you were different, but I guess I was wrong”.

Hardly sniffing, you close your eyes letting go everything inside your chest, before finishing the message. Curling up your legs to surround them with both arms, you rest your chin over your knees. You can't avoid thinking about all those times he has promised you a future together, living in a big house and having children. Or about all those times he has been crying clinged to you, talking about how his father has been always putting him apart. You have cared about him more than anyone in his life. You have given him all. Without asking anything back, more than loyalty. And you wouldn't even have to ask for it.

Even so, you're starting to regret all the things you have said, without knowing if it's true or not. But how are you going to find it out, if anyone says nothing?

“Oh, shit… Oh, shit, shit, shit…” Angel is sitting on top of his bike, with a hand holding his phone and the other rubbing the bridge of his nose.

His brothers are looking at all the gestures that he's drawing unconsciously on his face. Rage, sadness, incredulous… When the message ends, he lies down over the handerball, softly hitting his head against it. He tries to call you, but your phone is practically dead, off of battery. Bishop walks towards him, having a sip from his beer.

“All good, Angel?”

“She thinks I'm fucking cheating her, because he heard me say about picking up Leti, this morning”. Stepping out from his motorcycle, he looks for Tori's number, hoping she answers the call.

Walking around the parking like a locked lion in the zoo, he's starting to think about driving right now to Los Angeles.

“The hell is wrong with you, shithead?” The female voice sounds tired, being interrupted by a long yawn.

“Tori, listen. Find (Y/N). She's drunk, thinking I'm cheating on her”.

“Yeah, 'cause you have been ignoring her ass”.

“I've been workin—”.

“Nah, c'mon, Angel. Tell these tales to someone wh—”.

“I was working to buy a wedding ring”.

Silence. Tori suddenly sits up on her bed, turning on the lights and waking up Sarah. The girl who was sleeping peacefully, now is being woken up by shaking her left arm. Having some growls as response, she looks at her girlfriend frowning, while she hears Angel's voice through the speaker.

“Just listen, please. Calm her down, okay? 'Am coming tomorrow to LA. I already talked to your boss and I can't tell you anything else. Just… calm her down, please”.

“Okay, we got this, Angel”.

Hanging up the call, both girls jump off from the bed, walking towards your room. Empty. But following your crying, they stick out their heads by the window, finding you in the garden. This hurts them too. They were with you the night you met Angel, and they also love him a lot. They know how much he cares about you and even if Sarah and Tori couldn't believe that he was with another girl, it wasn't normal his way to act the last days. But now, everything has sense, and they are pretty excited to see him tomorrow and discover what he has been preparing for the proposition.

Going downstairs and trying to hide their happiness, your friends sit by each side to hug you. A collective hug to make you feel somewhat better, but you can't stop crying.

“Baby… what's up?” Tori asks, caressing gently your hair.

“This… fucking bastard… I fucking gave him all, the best of me!”

“You talkin' 'bout Angel? C'mon, (Y/N)! He told you he made the most of his time to work a little more, and not miss you. Two weeks is too much time for you both”.

“I heard him talking about another girl”.

“So, what? Since when he can't have friends, ah? I have slept with him at his house… hundred times, and that doesn't mean that I cheated Tori, or he cheated you. And believe me, your boyfriend is a fantasy even for me”. Sarah says, making you chuckle in some way. “I'm sure he has been working hard, as you do when he is traveling. So, don't think any bullshit about Angel. He loves you more than anything, okay?”

“Let's go to bed, okay, honey? We have to be awake in five hours for a long, long, long seminar. Lucky it's the last one”. Tori says standing up on her feet, helping you to get up from the grass.

Angel comes into the clubhouse with an excited smile on his lips, like a child on Christmas Day, rubbing his hands and clapping happily calling everybody's attention.

“You got it, hermano?”

He nods energetically, walking fast to the main round table, where the oldest were waiting for him to come back from the jewelers. The Reyes tucks a hand inside his pocket in complete silence, putting over the wood a small red velvet box. Between his fingers, he supports the bottom part to open the top, showing the ring for what he has been working too hard the last two weeks; without sleeping, without resting, without a drop of alcohol, without partying. Nothing. Just working hard. The fine gold ring is perfectly resting inside a small gap, showing only the top of it. A king's crown with a diamond in it, that shines so easily with natural light that could illuminate a whole room. The crew is looking at it fascinated. And yes, the ring couldn't be perfect, but it's the feeling of pride for Angel that makes them smile.

“Fuck, brother… If she doesn' want to marry you, I will”. Creeper is captivated by the jewel, with his eyes fixed on.

“Why the fuck she wouldn't want to marry me, dumbshit?”

“Ignore him, carnal”. Coco palms his back, resting his arm on a shoulder.

“So, what you say, ah?” He asks, anxious to hear Bishop, Tranq and Taza's opinion. Without them, it couldn't be possible.

“Fuck, man, I would marry you too if you propose me with this ring”. Che is the first one, taking the step to grab the small box and have a closed look from it.

“You did a good job, Angel. You deserve it”. Tranq just says with both arms on the table.

“Prez?”

Bishop keeps looking at the box, seeming thoughtful, slowly raising his eyes to the others after some seconds in silence.

“I think you are doing the right thing for the first time since I know you. That girl deserves a man like you, Angel. And I know she is not the kind of woman who would care about the ring, but you found the perfect one”.

Your boyfriend can't feel more proud. It would be impossible.

“Go change your clothes, you have four hours of road ahead”. El Presidente places a hand on Angel's nape with a soft narrow over it.

He just nods, keeping again the box inside a pocket to get up and leave the place to his dorm, where he has been sleeping the last two weeks. The black jeans and the white shirt are perfectly stretched over his bed. The Reyes hurries up to have a shower, not wasting a second more, brushing and doing his hair with trembling fingers. He hasn't known anything about you since he talked with Tori and Sarah some hours ago, hoping that they finally calmed you down and got you rid of those ideas about him cheating you. When he's already dressed, sitting on the edge of the mattress to put on his boots, Angel grabs the black bomber jacket trespassing the box from a piece of clothing to the other, zipping the pocket to not lose it.

Coming back to the main room of the clubhouse, his brothers receive him between whistles and cheers.

“Man, you smell good”. Coco says coming too close.

“Ah, ah. Take care, brother. Don't want you to stain my fresh clothes”. He says taking a step back.

“My apologies, your grace”. He chuckles.

“Bishop?”

“Templo”. Taza says having a sip from a coffee.

Checking the hour on his phone, assuring himself that he has enough time, the Reyes leads his steps to the meeting-room, closing the glass colorful door behind him.

“Already leaving?”

“Yeah, prez, I just… want to thank you for giving me the three k left. I will continue working to gi—”.

“Take it as a wedding gift”. The mexican stops him with his own words, shaking his head and making a light gesture with a hand.

“I couldn't do it without you, Tranq and Taza”.

“I heard what you told to your brother. In the office”. He says then, lying back on his chair. “I am not going to… give you my opinion about your father, but he shouldn't behave like that, Angel”.

“I know, Bishop. And… I would thank you for not telling anything about it to (Y/N). She loves my pops”.

“That honors you”.

“Don't know, but I don't wanna be like him”.

El Presidente simply nods.

“Bring back Mrs. Reyes”.

Your head hurts like hell, having to use your glasses because of the blurry gaze you have got by the hangover. The seminar is turning out eternal. The last thing you care about right now is how to operate with an open heart, you have already done it and you could skip this part. But it's for compulsory attendance. So there you are, drawing nothing on your iPad as if you were taking notes, fighting against the pain, the tiredness and the uncertainty about Angel. He continues not answering your text or calls, and you can't help but think about what Sarah told you last night.

“... you for coming, and I hope that these two weeks have been productive for your learning”.

The claps flood the conference room, while the other doctors begin to pick up their stuff and finally leave the place. You can't believe that it's already done and that you're allowed to come back home, checking again your muttered phone expecting to find something. But the notifications bar is empty.

“Ladies and gentlemen, if you don't mind, I'm going to steal you a couple minutes. Sit back, please”. The voice of your boss through the speakers makes you raise an eyebrow.

“The desire to be noticed by that man fucks me up”. Tori chuckles with a low tone, sitting again over her seat.

“I know that we all are tired, but it's just going to be a couple minutes, I promise. I just want to help a friend”.

“No…” Sarah looks at her girlfriend really surprised, making you frown confused.

“Girls, the fuck you did?”

“You just… enjoy the show, my dear”.

You can see your boss making a gesture to someone by a side of the stage, to come closer. But when your eyes find Angel walking over it, your blood freezes and your heart stops. Lucky you're between almost more than two hundred doctors and surgeons. Leo gives up the micro to your boyfriend, looking for you. And obviously, your two friends start to yell like crazy to call his attention.

“Hey, ahm… You don't know me and I don't know you, but… I'm Angel. Dr. (Y/L/N)'s boyfriend and I came to… give her an important message”. He says with a nervous tone, before smirking at you, clearing his throat. “Hey, baby, can you… can you come here, please?”

“Go”. Your friends push you to get up, but your legs feel like butter about to fall downstairs.

As soon as he's able to hug you, he does, not caring about the claps from the people in front of you.

“Okay, okay, listen”. Holding one of your hands and pulling himself away, he laughs a little bit nervous for a second. “We met two years ago, in the middle of nowhere. I was fuc— sorry. I was hurt because of a fight. And you fixed up my wounds with so much love, patience and care, that I fell for you”.

“Angel…”

“Sh, listen. I think I'm going to have a heart attack, so let me talk before falter to the floor. Listen, you have been my best friend, my anchor, my reason to live since then. I love you more than I could ever love anyone... I can't live without you, baby. And before you say anything else like last night, no. I didn't try and I'm not going to do it, because I'm lost without you, (Y/N). So, ahm… Hey, boss, can you hold the mic'?” Turning to Leo, the man takes it back.

You're trembling, looking at your friends for a moment trying to find an explanation. But when your gaze is again on your boyfriend, he's already kneeling with a hand inside a pocket grabbing something. A small red box. And you can't believe what's happening. Taking a step back and covering your face with both hands, you start to cry like a child, with your pulse racing under your skin.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), would you marry me?”

The crew is waiting anxiously at the porch, after not receiving any news back from LA. But they all get up from their seats on the sofas and the stairs, when they hear Coco's car being driven by Angel coming closer. As soon as he parks it close to the bikes, not finding you on the passenger seat and looking at the devastated gesture on his face, they know that the proposition wasn't as they were expecting. Stepping out of the car, he just shrugs his shoulders.

“Hey, carnal, it's okay. She will reconsider it”. Coco says hugging his friend, trying to comfort him.

“She will say yes, Angel, don't give up”. Bishop palms softly his nape.

And you are drowning in laughs hidden on the floor of the back seats. Looking slightly through the window, you find the crew very affected because supposedly you said ‘no’. Taking some air, you jump out of the car yelling with a huge smile on your lips.

“Surprise, madafakas!”

“Jesus fucking Christ! I'm too old for these frights!” Taza shouts at you back, indignant with a hand on his chest barely breathing.

“I'm confused”. Gilly says from nowhere.

“What? Doesn't sound good Mrs. Reyes for you?” Walking towards them, raising the hand with the amazing ring, they all look surprised.

“I'm going to fucking shoot you, Angel”. Bishop threats him, before leading his steps to yours. “Welcome home, querida”.

“Thank you”. Hugging him, you rest your head against his chest. “Angel told me you help him”.

“It was nothing, kid”. Clicking his tongue and pulling himself away, he caresses your cheek for a second.

“Yo! Mami! You look stunning now that you're engaged”. Coco lifts you up between his arms, narrowing you under his grip.

“Yeah, you see?!”

“Hey, hey, social distancing”. Your future husband takes you off from his friend's hands, to hold you closer with an arm surrounding your neck.

“Look at you, Mr. and Mrs. Reyes”. Creeper says very proud, nodding in accordance.

“Let's celebrate it that you didn' kick my ass, mi dulce”.

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[addminds]

Executive disfunction sucks and I'm stuck in a loop of starting tasks and wandering away before they're done or just sitting for hours agonizing over them. Any suggestions other than medication? I've been trying to see a psychiatrist for years for my adhd but unfortunately I live in a city where theres basically none around and adhd medication is next to impossible to get perscribed. I feel like I'm nonfunctional.

Hey there anon! This answer is a little long, so I’ll be putting it under a cut so it doesn’t clog up anyone’s feed.

Hm… In personal experience, a lot of the no therapy, no medication coping mechanisms for executive dysfunction are very case by case. Oftentimes there are little things (or big things) we can do to make life easier for ourselves and to encourage ourselves to actually complete that executive function. For instance, I realized that before I stocked the mini fridge in my room with drinks, I would forget to drink at all throughout the day. Now that it’s more accessible, things have gotten a bit better. 

Another example could be that a trash can is too far away, or your clothes hamper is across the room, or you just don’t have some important things close enough to where you spend your time. A way to help? Try to make sure that you have certain things always in reach, like having a trash can next to your bed as well as next to your desk and next to your reading chair.

Do you forget to eat and drink a lot, or skip out on it because you aren’t close enough to the kitchen? Keep water bottles and a couple of energy bars in strategic places around your room/house so they are always accessible. Formulate and adapt your life to fit you and your comfort levels, don’t try to force yourself to function in life how it is now.

Another thing with executive dysfunction is time management. We aren’t exactly the best at keeping up with the time on our own. Luckily, there are countless apps and websites where you can input different activities for different times, and they will alert you when you need to start an activity. Plus, to make the task seem less daunting, break it down into sections. Set small goals, like maybe you’ll work on your paper for ten minutes or you’ll clean your room for five. It’s not easy to start, it never is, and that’s okay.

If you find yourself unable to get up and get started when the alarm goes off, don’t force yourself, don’t berate yourself, don’t harass yourself. Instead, ask yourself when you think you’ll be able to complete that task, and ensure that you set that as a goal for yourself. The road to improving executive function is long and hard, and it’s important not to beat yourself up for not being able to do everything all the time. Understand your limits, and if you really don’t think you’ll be able to do something, that’s okay. 

So basically, in summary, there are always going to be different methods that work for different people. Identifying certain issues and things that set off your executive dysfunction can help you to break it down piece by piece and eliminate different risks from your life. Focus on small goals, and don’t blame yourself if you can’t do something right that moment. You have to understand your own situation and your own limits.

I’m sorry that this isn’t too helpful, nor is it too clear. I just got out of a pretty heavy hyperfocus and I’m a little out of it, haha. Does anyone else have some tips for this lovely anon? 

[youremarvelous]

hi. it's ok if you dont want to respond to this, but i've been having a... pretty fucking terrible time lately and i was wondering if you could write a little ficlet about yuuri taking care of viktor? i really love h/c and you write the best, most heartwarming stuff. it's totally ok if you don't want to/you're too busy to, though. i appreciate everything you write and i really hope you're doing okay.

Hi sweetheart! I’m so sorry you’re having a bad time of things lately, I whipped together a small serving of h/c fluff for you. I hope it can help make your day a little better

Warning for a (very mild, non-graphic) description of vomiting 

Yuuri is halfway through a couple’s-turned-solo sponsor interview when his ringtone cuts through a thinly-veiled question about relationship roles—shrill and insistent. Yuuri isn’t one to do something as self-important and rude as answer a phone call in the middle of a professional engagement, but husband mode engages when he sees the caller. He finds himself apologizing, thumbing “accept.”

“Vitya?” There’s no reply for a few agonizing seconds. Yuuri holds the phone to his ear with both hands, willing the silence to sculpt itself into something less alarming. “Are you there?”

“I can’t find the dogs,” Viktor says eventually. The words are syrupy—sticky syllables that pool in Yuuri’s ear—faint and barely coherent. It’s concerning because they’re staying in a hotel room in Paris. Have been since Viktor woke up melted into Yuuri’s side at 3 am the night before, fever-hot and miserable, unable to traverse the handful of feet to the bathroom without tipping into the wall, paling into the milk-white wallpaper.    

Yuuri stands behind his chair, bowing to the interviewer in apology. “That’s okay,” Yuuri reassures Viktor to save himself the time of explaining. He mouths, ‘I have to go,’ and, ‘I’m so sorry,’ to the crew, barely registering their hasty nods of approval before taking off to the exit. “I’m on my way to help you look. Are you in bed?”

“Vitya?” Yuuri prompts when Viktor doesn’t immediately answer.

Yuuri has already flagged down a taxi and whispered, “sweetheart, are you with me,” in what he will later recognize as the most desperate, borderline pathetic voice of his life when the sound of Viktor groaning echoes through the receiver—ominously queasy but solid and there.  

Yuuri gets the feeling it’s more a general expression of discomfort than a deliberate response, but he latches his fingers into it, anyway, curls it into his palms. “I know,” he placates, fumbling in his pocket for his wallet. He’s not even sure if Viktor hears him, but it’s comforting to pretend. “I’m sorry you’re so sick.”

He’s sorry for a lot of things: trusting Viktor to accurately assess the severity of his own illness, believing him when he said it was fine for Yuuri to attend their sponsor meeting this morning, god-awful Paris traffic. At this moment in particular—running up the hotel stairs two at a time—he’s mostly sorry he’s not there to hold back Viktor’s hair when he makes a sound like his throat cracking in half, follows it up with a sickly splash.

“That’s okay.” Yuuri shoulders his phone to unlock the door to their room. He stumbles into the bathroom, drops to his knees at Viktor’s side. His phone clatters across the tile—call ended and forgotten. “You’re okay,” he soothes when Viktor pushes his hands into his face, shakes his head with a full body shiver.

Viktor doesn’t complain, but his forehead is creased with pain when Yuuri smooths his palm across it. “I should never have left you,” he says mostly to himself, frowning at the heat.

“I hate this,” Viktor says, voice crackling like hot rain on the sidewalk. It’s not an answer, but it’s all Yuuri needs.

He calls the sponsor an agonizing hour of holding back Viktor’s hair and his own tears later. They’re understanding of his plight and agree to let him finish the remaining questions via email. Yuuri answers them with his laptop in his lap, Viktor spooned up to his side—hand clenched in Yuuri’s shirt, knee crooked over Yuuri’s legs.

Yuuri wonders not for the first time how Viktor ever managed to sleep in a bed alone. He texts his Kaasan for advice in between mindlessly filling questions. Yes, he doesn’t need to worry about the fever unless it spikes over 103, yes, he should make Viktor take liquids, even if he can’t keep them down, yes, he and Viktor both consider that first whirlwind year as student and coach to be a landmark of their entire careers.

Viktor becomes fully coherent again sometime around dinner. He’s soggy with nausea and still far too pale, but his eyes are clear when Yuuri meets them.

Yuuri shuts down his 2DS, moves from the chaise lounge to the side of the bed. “Did you find the dogs?” He asks, stroking Viktor’s overheated temple with his thumb.

“Hm?” Viktor swallows thickly, lifts his hand to cover Yuuri’s. “Who let them out?”

“I hope you know the only reason I’m not singing right now is because I love you.”

Viktor smiles weakly. It doesn’t mean much. He’s known for minimizing pain that way.  

Still, Yuuri knows he means it when he leans into his side, nuzzles his face into Yuuri’s chest. Says, “I love you, too.”

                                           my yoi drabbles  |  kofi ♡