#actually washing them is like - so much work. I have to turn on the boiler for hot water. I have to burn my fingers because that's inevitab

[makingshortstorieslong]

wanted: someone else to do the dishes.

please. I'll gladly do laundry. I love laundry. I'll cook if there's someone else to eat it (I eat ingredients when im 'cooking' for myself). I'll clean the bathroom. I'll even put the dry dishes away. But please someone help the dishes keep piling up on the counter when im not looking. I'm eating off the cutting board with my fingers. my countertop is not visible. it's a dire situation here.

[dreamy625]

Overture and beginners - chapter 2

< Chapter 1

Words: 2212

Content: There’s casual drinking and smoking in this chapter, and some smooching

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For such a casual arrangement, Katie found that a quite unreasonable level of anticipation crept up on her over the intervening week. She flaked on another date with Gary and then, after ten minutes of introspection, called him back to end things altogether. With the vision, however uncertain, of a particular sweet shy smile perpetually hovering in front of her, Gary had just… faded into the background. Oh he was nice enough, and she’d liked that he had a respectable, clean job - chilled goods manager at the new supermarket - and a car, but it turned out, not much else. He wasn’t the most exciting bloke in the world, and the only thing he seemed to be really passionate about was Sheffield United. She let him down gently, blaming their incompatible work schedules rather than the fact that he was boring, and he accepted it with predictable stoicism. 

-----------------------------

Steve’s head had swivelled like an owl every time the door swung open and finally, at twenty past six, he was rewarded with the sight of Katie walking into the pub and looking around searchingly. He jumped up, almost knocking the bar stool over, and then, checking himself, strolled oh so casually over to where she was standing. 

“You came! I mean, hi.”

“Well, sure. I hear this is where all the cool kids hang out on a Friday night,” she quipped. 

“Oh definitely,” agreed Steve, eying the motley collection of steel workers and engineers, some still wearing their overalls, that made up the majority of the patrons. “Have you just got off work?”

“Err, yeah, busy day,” (in fact she had put the cover on her typewriter nearly an hour ago and had spent the intervening time in the ladies’ loo refreshing her makeup, fussing with her hair, and trying to get the ink stain off the cuff of her blouse). 

“Can I get you a drink?”

“That would be lovely.”

While Steve went to the bar, Katie scoped out a small table in a corner made less gloomy than most of the pub by the last of the evening light coming in through a frosted window. When Steve sat down with a vodka and orange for Katie and a pint of beer for himself there was a brief awkward silence when it dawned on both of them that this was now undeniably a date. 

“So, you’re not with your mates today then?”

“Oh they’re around here somewhere. Last I saw they were in the back bar reenacting William Tell and the apple but with darts and a pickled egg! I couldn’t watch.”

He mimed an unfortunate apprentice turning cross-eyed as a poorly-aimed dart approached his forehead and Katie’s laughter, and Steve’s bashful delight at having made her laugh, seemed to break the ice. After that, starting with their common ground of Wisewood Comprehensive, they shared reminiscences about Mr Taylor’s wig, the time 3B set fire to the chemistry lab, and whether the boiler room was actually haunted, before moving on to families, with Steve telling stories of escapades with his two younger brothers, and then grumbling about their shared workplace, each striving to top the other’s tales of dimwitted colleagues and virtually inedible canteen food. Steve’s shyness evaporated once he got engrossed in the conversation, and he was funny, and observant, with a talent for mimicking voices and mannerisms. Katie tried, however pretty his eyes were, not to stare at his face the whole time, and instead found herself studying his hands - black staining like all the men in the manufacturing departments, from oil and metal dust worked so deep into the skin that you couldn’t wash it off however hard you scrubbed, and long slender fingers that were always moving - pushing his overgrown fringe out of his eyes, fiddling with a cigarette, tapping on the table, tearing the corners off beermats. Three drinks and several packets of peanuts later and they were on to more personal topics - childhood dreams, hopes for the future, and, of course, music, at which point Steve’s twitchy fingers took flight, subconsciously miming chords and riffs as he talked about his favourite players. They were in the middle of discovering a shared love of David Bowie when a group of blokes from the factory walked past on their way to the pool table, and one of them did a double-take. 

“Aye aye, Dreamer’s found a girl!”

“Is this your sister, Steve-o?”

“Bet it’s his cousin - they’re like that in Hillsborough.”

Charlie, bringing up the rear, gave a couple of the young men a good-natured shove, “Come on lads, this might be the only time he’s ever spoken to a woman, don’t ruin it for him.” Still snickering and with some crude hand gestures, the group continued on their way. 

Clutching his forehead and turning pink with embarrassment, Steve apologised, “I am so sorry. I work with a bunch of hooligans.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve been at GEC long enough to know what they’re like. The office girls call your bit of the factory the monkey cage!”

He grimaced. "Sounds about right."

“Why do they call you Dreamer?”

“Because I’m always sleeping when I’m meant to be working.” He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. “And because I want to be a musician and they think that’s a pipe dream.”

“Well that’s very unsupportive of them.”

“Yeah. They’re probably right though,” he mused gloomily.

“No,” she insisted, suddenly fierce, “how dare they try to squash your dreams!” Impulsively she reached over and squeezed his hand. “You’ve got all the time in the world to get there. And you’re already doing it, playing in a band and all.”

Steve’s head was lowered and she followed his gaze to where it rested on their joined hands. Self-consciously she released her grip and moved her hand, not snatching it back but trailing her fingertips across the landscape of tendons and veins. 

“So, what would you like to do now? Another drink, or…?”

Mustering every ounce of courage he possessed, Steve stretched across the table and very lightly touched his fingers to her cheek. “I would like…” She heard him take a quick breath. “To kiss you. But I don’t want to do it with all that lot watching us.”

“Well, I would appreciate a kind gentleman who would walk me to my bus stop.”

“I am at your service, m’lady.”

Conveniently, it turned out that they lived close enough to one another that Steve could catch the same bus as Katie and only have to walk a couple of extra streets. After establishing this plan, the previously easy conversation dried up, stifled by the anticipation hovering in a cloud above their heads. As they walked, their hands occasionally brushed against each other, and they both pretended not to notice. As they rounded the corner and came in sight of the row of bus stops, they saw that there were quite a number of people already waiting there. 

“Oh goody,” muttered Steve under his breath, “another audience.” Looking around quickly, he spotted open gates leading to the yard in front of some factory or warehouse and stepped sideways into the shadowy gateway, inclining his head in an invitation for Katie to follow him. Though not in the habit of following strange men into dark corners, this one somehow seemed irresistible. 

“Sorry, not the most glamorous of locations,” he said with an anxious smile. 

“At least it's private, and doesn't smell bad."

“So…” He looked at her a little sideways, fidgeting his feet. He could feel his heart beating fast and his palms were sweaty. 

“So… I think you said you wanted to do something?” she teased, looking up at him with doe eyes.

Steve stepped closer and reached out a hand, hovering it uncertainly before deciding that her shoulder was a safe place to land it. Katie put her hand on his other arm and tilted her face up expectantly. He leaned down and bestowed a soft, chaste kiss at the corner of her mouth and then waited for a moment, in case she was going to yell ‘bleugh’ and run away - okay that had only happened once, when he was nine, but it had stayed in his mind as a possible outcome ever since. Happily, there was no cry of revulsion, so he lightly brushed his lips across hers before pressing them together. She responded eagerly, and he felt inspired to elaborate, alternating delicate pecks with firmer pressure with pulling her lower lip into the slightest pout to graze the soft inner edge. His kisses were like questions, to her, to himself - do you like that, can I do this, does that feel good? Each move tentative at first and then more ardent as the response was a clear yes! Eventually they reached some kind of natural conclusion, separating with a final clinging pop and little puffs of hot breath.

“Wow…” She blinked, temporarily unable to find any more words.

“Really? I’ve never had a ‘wow’ before.”

“Maybe we should check it wasn’t a fluke?”

The first kiss had brought them closer together and this time Steve dared to put his hands on Katie’s waist. She lifted up on her toes and looped her arms around his neck. This kiss was bolder; Steve’s tongue traced the inner edges of her lips and she parted them and moved her own to meet it with exploratory touches. His hands gripped tighter on her hips, and hers tangled in his hair. 

The increasingly-passionate moment was rudely interrupted when a group of lads passing in the street spotted the canoodling couple and whistled and hooted (honestly, was there nowhere you could go in this city that wasn’t infested with packs of feral boys). Steve, without breaking the embrace, held up his middle finger in their direction. Not really looking where they were going, he started to steer them, Katie shuffling backwards, into the deeper shadows. After a few steps, she bumped into a wall and broke the kiss with a little ‘oof’ of surprise.

“Sorry, I…” Steve started to apologise.

“No, this is good.” She trailed her hands down the front of his jacket and anchored them around his waist, tugging him closer as their lips met again.  

Pressed into each other, and back against the wall, Steve’s knee slipped between hers, bringing their whole bodies into contact. Katie dropped her hands to his bum, and he let out a half-moan, half-sigh that she felt as much as heard. That sound cemented the transformation that had been happening in her head since the previous Friday, turning the dorky kid from the music room into a handsome prince grown man, with warm lips and strong hands and… let’s be honest, a really nice arse. She felt him slip a hand between her blouse and her jacket, up her back and then round to the side, as if he was following the bra band underneath like a map. Hesitantly, he moved his hand to cup the curve of her breast and his thumb brushed over her nipple. Even through two layers of fabric the touch was enough to make her gasp, and Steve reacted by repeating the action deliberately. Eager for skin contact, Katie wriggled her hand under the hem of Steve’s t-shirt, touching her fingers to the curve of his back. But her hands were cold, and her realisation of it, and his involuntary shiver, broke the spell and they both pulled away from the kiss with simultaneous ‘sorry’-s. 

Steve dropped his hand back to Katie’s waist and took a half-step back, forcing himself to create distance between their bodies. He blew out a long breath. “So… that was…”

“That was…” She was still gazing at him with starry eyes.

“I don’t usually…”

“I don’t either…”

“Sorry, too fast…”

“No… maybe…”

He cleared his throat and tried very hard to form a complete sentence. “If I asked you… would you go on a proper date with me? One that’s not groping in doorways?”

“Of course I would.” She smiled, “Though I wouldn’t be too upset if there was a little bit of groping in doorways!”

“Deal!” 

As they were leaving the yard, they almost bumped into a group of older men also, by the jovial laughter and slightly wobbly gait of some of the party, on their way home from a night in the pub. One of the men stopped after a few steps, turned back and scowled at the couple.

“Uh oh, it’s Mr Rafferty, the foreman. Don’t know why he’s got that face on him though, for once I haven’t done anything wrong!”

“Um, it might be because you’re holding his daughter’s hand.”

He dropped her hand like it was molten metal, muttering ‘bloody hell’ under his breath before pasting on an ingratiating smile.

“G-good evening M-mr Rafferty, I was just, err, seeing your Katherine home safe,” he stammered. “But, err, now you’re here, I’ll just say goodnight.”

He bobbed his head in a kind of awkward bow before scuttling off down the street as fast as his guilty feet would carry him. Katie tore her eyes away from his retreating figure and looked up at her father’s still frowning face. She wondered if she had lipstick smeared on her chin.

‘Home’ was all he said.

Chapter 3 >

[shyficwriter]

Sick

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu & Kraglin)

Summary: You are quite sick, and unfortunately for everyone else, you won't stay in bed. Might have something to do with being delirious with fever, or maybe you're just a terrible patient. Who's to say?

Authors note: Content warning for hallucinated gore (I think? maybe horror is a better description? Let me know), and mentions of blood, and of course mentions of all the nastiness that comes with a stomach sickness (Don't worry, I kept it clean, didn't want to gross myself out lol) The characters are safe, story has a happy ending.

Word Count: 7,120

Damn, you felt like shit.

It was the first morning in forever where you could remember not actually wanting to get out of bed. Everything was sore, and damn it was just so cold. Why was it cold? Peter usually kept the ship decently warm?

You sighed and rolled out of bed, pausing momentarily when the room began to spin and your stomach tightened in nausea. Damn. That mission the other day must have taken more out of you than you thought. You didn't think you'd still be this sore and tired two days later. This was worse than yesterday, and you weren't exactly expecting the nausea, but at least it had passed.

Oh well. Nothing you can really do about it. Besides, you had more pressing matters, like figuring out why it was so damn cold. You were shaking and had to fight your teeth from chattering. Better put on a sweater.

After washing up and getting ready you headed out of your room to ask Peter why it was so cold, maybe check on the boiler yourself if he hadn't. You found him with Gamora and Kraglin on the flight deck discussing the best course to Berhert, where you guys were planning to dock for a few days and maybe chase down a few leads for new jobs.

"Why is it so freaking cold in here?" you ask. "Did the boiler break down or something?"

They turned to look at you and it was then you realized they were in their regular clothes, not even wearing jackets to keep them warm. Peter was even wearing short sleeves. "I feel fine?" he said, looking to Gamora. "Are you cold?"

She shook her head, adding that if anything, she thought Peter kept it a little too warm on the ship.

You raised an eyebrow, wondering how they could possibly be warm when you were freezing. You shook your head gently. "Guess it's just me then," you grumble.

"You ok? Ya look a little pale there?" Kraglin asked after noticing you were at least a shade or two lighter than normal and how the skin around your eyes wasn't normally that dark.

"I'm fine, Kraglin," you say, trying not to sound like too much of an asshole despite being cranky that you were so cold and achy.

Peter looked at you suspiciously a moment before saying, "Hey, come here a sec."

"Why?" you ask, just as suspiciously.

"Just come here."

You roll your eyes as you approach. "Fine." Once you stopped a few feet from him you asked, "What?"

He raised his hand out toward your forehead, and in your surprise you leaned away quick, instantly regretting it as the room began to spin again.

You gathered yourself somewhat quickly and noticed his hand coming back. You smacked it away. "What are you doing??" you asked through squinty eyes.

"I'm trying to feel your temperature, dummy. Quit moving!" he responded, irritated when you dodged him once again.

"What am I? A child? I don't need you to feel my temperature, mom." you sassed, taking a few steps backward out of the way. "I'm fine." you say irritably.

"Well you like shit."

You almost laughed in surprise at his bluntness as you leaned back with a mildly offended expression. "Well fuck you too, dickweed. You aren't exactly a looker yourself." You didn't really think he was ugly, you were just being mean, but it made Kraglin laugh anyway.

Peter shot him a look before turning back to you and saying, "I didn't mean it like that. I just think you should probably go back to bed if you aren't feeling well."

"First off, I have shit to do, I'm not going back to bed. Secondly, I never said I wasn't feeling well, I just said I was cold," you say bitterly, hugging your arms close to your chest as another chill hit you.

"Then why are you sweating?" Peter asked.

You looked at him a moment, confused, before bringing your own hand up to your forehead. Sure enough, you were starting to sweat a little around your hairline. You wiped your hand on your sweater as you gave him a bitter look before turning and walking away.

"Go back to bed!" Peter called after you.

You flipped him the bird, not turning around as you continued out of the room. "You don't tell me what to do. You ain't my mother."

Peter narrowed his eyes as you walked away. "Yeah... well... Good!"

Gamora rolled her eyes at both yours and Peter's immaturity and returned the conversation to the navigation.

***

You made you way down to the kitchen, thinking maybe you'd make some toast. Your stomach felt a bit crampy now, and you thought toast might be light enough to soothe it before you got started on your chores. Maybe some milk. Milk was nice and gentle, right?

Rocket and Groot were already in the kitchen eating some cereal when you got there. You nodded toward them in greeting as you put down some bread in the toaster. You pulled down a glass and went to open the fridge to pour yourself some milk while you waited when Rocket spoke up.

"Oh hey, we're out of milk, if that's what you're after."

You sighed. "Juice will have to do then," you say, grabbing the bottle and pouring yourself a glass of the light green liquid. You leaned against the counter and sipped at it as Rocket made conversation.

"You said you're going to blow out the dryer line today, right?"

"Yeah."

"About how long are you gonna be? I need to wash a load and I was hoping to get it started before I got to work fixing Groot's game-thing so it might be done by the time I finished."

"Shouldn't be too long. Should only take abo-"

Just then the toaster popped, making you jump a mile, and Rocket and Groot laugh at your reaction.

"Oh man, I don't get why you Terrans are so scared of that! Haha!"

You only glare at him before removing your toast and turning your attention to buttering it rather than engage about how you were definitely not scared of a toaster like you would have any other time. You just didn't feel like it today.

"I am Groot?"

"Yeah, you ok? Normally you yell back when I tease you about the toaster. You sick or something?"

You were finished buttering your toast so you turned to give him an unimpressed look. "What? If I don't yell at you, you think I must be sick?"

Rocket shrugged, "I mean, yeah?" He collected his and Groot's now empty bowls and hopped over to put them in the sink. "You've always yelled something back, what else I'm I supposed to think?" He turned back towards you and looked you over. "And are you supposed to look that... dead?"

You narrowed your eyes. "You supposed to be that bald?"

"What? I'm literally covered in fur." Rocket said, looking at you like he thought you were stupid.

"You won't be if I shave you, you little shit."

"I am Groot."

"I'm not sure if cranky's the word I'd use right now, buddy." Rocket said, throwing you a sideways glance. "Come on, let's go see if Drax wants to play cards or something." With that the pair left the room, leaving you alone to nibble at your toast and sip at your juice in peace.

It didn't exactly help the cramping in your stomach though, you realized as you placed your glass in the sink. You took a deep breath as another chill hit you and you rested over the sink a bit to get your bearings, taking a few more deep breaths hoping it would ease the cramping in your stomach.

Once you felt steady enough you left the kitchen, intent to get started on today's tasks, first being the dryer line, then changing the various air filters about the ship. You'd probably also get around to checking all the smoke detectors before lunch, but for now you just needed to get down to the laundry room to get started.

God, it was so cold.

You made your way down the hall from the kitchen and turned off towards the laundry room when you were startled by Yondu. He had been coming up the other hallway in the direction you were now headed and decided to greet you with a clap on the back and a loud, "Hey, squirt! What'cha doing?"

He always called you squirt, pipsqueak, munchkin, just because he knew it annoyed you to be called childish nicknames. To be fair, he did still call Peter, a fully grown man, 'boy,' as well as also sometimes calling him 'squirt,' and Gamora 'girl,' so at least you knew it wasn't personal.

The startle, as well as the impact of his hand meeting your shoulder sent you forward. You grabbed hold of the wall and tried to steady yourself as the hall spun around you.

"Whoa, ya alright there?" Yondu asked, not expecting to have thrown you so off balance.

You look up at him weakly and nod, breathing deeply through your nose as you held a hand to your stomach, still bent over slightly from where you had caught yourself. You thought you were going to be sick, but you were doing your damnedest to keep it together. "Yeah." you swallowed, trying to fight the slight tremors beginning to shake you. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Ya don't look it. I think you need to take your ass back to bed."

You glare at him. "I'm fine. I just need a sec." As if your body were trying to betray you, another chill shot through your spine, making you shake as a strong cramp made you fold into yourself with a, "Ow, fuck!"

Shit. You knew what was coming and there was nothing you could do to stop it. You quickly turned away from Yondu and vomited on the floor with such force that it felt like something had ripped your stomach open and you fought not to whimper at the pain. You heard him make a disgusted noise, and you didn't blame him.

Teeth chattering and dizzy, you looked at the mess and said, "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. I'll clean that up." Your vision swam as you shook, one hand gripping at the wall, the other still wrapped about your middle.

Before Yondu could think to respond you had dropped to your knees, thankfully missing the puddle of sick on the floor, and vomited again.

You couldn't stop shaking, and resigned into leaning into the wall, eyes closed as you turned your forehead to rest against the cold metal. Your breath came in shudders as you heard Yondu cry out, "Shit! Quill!" He sounded urgent, but you didn't have time to think about that, you were too busy shaking and trying not to vomit again.

You thought you heard Rocket's voice from up the hall say, "See! I knew you were sick!" and you briefly opened your eyes to look up and make out the little blurry figure approaching before closing them again, weakly throwing him the bird as you focused on keeping it together, both arms now clutching your stomach as you grimaced in pain. It would be over soon. You just needed to gather yourself so you could clean up the mess you made and then you could get on with your day. God your stomach hurt...

You heard Yondu call out for Peter a second time, more urgently than the first and adding, "Kraglin! Somebody! Get down here!" when you lost your battle against your stomach and vomited for a third time. This time Rocket's cries for Peter joined him. You wondered why they were freaking out and calling for Peter when you felt Yondu grab your shoulders to stop you from falling forwards, causing your eyes to pop open allowing you to see your puddle of sick was now red, though you couldn't remember eating anything red... Was the juice you drank red? No, it was green... "Well that's not ideal..." you slurred out, realizing that it probably definitely shouldn't be red, but couldn't quite get a grasp on exactly why you knew it shouldn't be.

The last thing you heard was the sounds of boots thundering down the hallway, getting closer as they mingled with the noises of Yondu and Rocket's shouting before everything went dark.

***

You woke up in your bed laying on top of your sheets. You still didn't feel great, your stomach still felt crampy and also now burned a bit, but it was better than the sharp pain of before and at least you didn't really feel nauseous anymore.

It was still really cold though. You sat up and your head swam. You looked down to see you were still in your sweater and contemplated putting another one on before deciding against it. You were going to be up moving around doing your chores in a second, you'd likely warm up then.

You gingerly pulled yourself out of bed, thinking you might go get some water first, when you looked over at your nightstand for the time and found that someone had already left you a glass. How kind. You sipped at the water and silently grumbled when you realized you had been asleep for nearly two hours.

Wait... why were you in bed again? You sort of remembered getting sick. Peter probably made you lay down a bit. He was a mother hen like that.

No matter, you were up now. Time to get to work.

You left your room and had made it about 20 feet before Gamora spotted you and ordered you back to bed. You made out her two stern faces staring at you... wait two? You thought she only had one of those?

"Why?" you ask, wondering if Peter's mother-hening had rubbed off on her. Way you saw it, you only threw up, it wasn't the end of the world.

"Because you're sick, that's why!" Gamora replied, sounding exasperated.

"I'm fine." you assured, making a face a her. "You worry too much, chicken. The sky's still there." Hmm... you might have gotten that phrase wrong, or did you? You couldn't quite remember. Oh well.

"Bed. Now." she ordered. You blinked and suddenly she once again only had one face. One very cross looking face. Oh well. You still knew better than to argue with her, regardless of how many faces she chose to wear today, so begrudgingly you turned around and went back to your room with a dramatic sigh.

When enough time passed that you were certain she'd be gone, you attempted your escape again. This time you got about halfway to the laundry when you spotted little Groot in the hallway. He looked at you contemplatively and said, "I am Groot?" which you took to mean he was probably asking if you were supposed to be up and out of bed. Leave it to Peter to tell the whole damn ship.

You gave the little guy your best smile and made a shushing gesture with your finger to your lips. "Our secret, right buddy?"

He smiled and ran off.

Taking that as an agreement to silence you went on your way only to not make it much further before hearing someone tell you to "Stop right there!" You turned to find Gamora and Peter looking very disapproving while Rocket stood there looking smug with little Groot sat on his shoulder. Knowing you were defeated, your shoulders fell as you said, "I know, I know. 'Back to bed.'" As you made your way past them you looked down at the little twig and muttered, "Traitor." only to be met with him sticking his little tongue out at you playfully.

Your third attempt was much the same, only this time it was Mantis who caught you and she wasn't quiet about it at all when she went running off yelling to Yondu that you were out of bed again, much to your chagrin as it prompted him to come out of a nearby room. He didn't even have to say anything. He just stared you down, and you held up your hands in defeat and said "Ok! Ok! I'm going!" before scurrying the best you could back to your room.

You didn't even get out of your room on your fourth attempt, having opened the door to find Drax had been walking by at just that moment. He stopped and narrowed his eyes at you with arms crossed, daring you to try it. You looked at him awkwardly a moment before sighing and just closing the door. Maybe you'd take a nap and wait them out. You were a little sleepy...

On your fifth attempt you got nearly to the doors of the laundry when you heard someone shout, "Where do you think you're going?! Get back to bed!"

You turned around irritably to see it was Peter and Kraglin now, looking fairly cross. Seriously!? Why can't they just let you be!

You crossed your arms. "I have to blow out the dryer line, asshat. Where are you going?" you sassed.

Kraglin leaned to Peter and muttered something you couldn't quite make out. Something about the flight hangar? Oh well, probably wasn't important.

Peter looked at you like you were a misbehaving child. "I'm going to take you back to bed, that where I'm going."

You rolled your eyes and waved him off this time, turning your back on him to continue on your quest.

"Hey!" he scolded, effortlessly catching up with you and grabbing your arm to stop you. "I'm not kidding, you need to go back to bed." He put a hand to your forehead, this time succeeding since he had you by the arm and you couldn't get away. "You're burning up. Come on, back to bed." he repeated.

"Screw off." you say weakly, the sudden motion of being grabbed making you dizzy.

"See this is what I mean. You need to rest." Peter's tone was slightly more gentle now, but it didn't make you any less cranky. "Do you really think you're gonna puke blood and then just be allowed to walk about like everything's fine? You're crazy. You need to stay in bed until a doctor can see you!"

Huh. So that hadn't been a dream... Maybe it was the fever talking, but you didn't really care too much. You didn't want or need to see a doctor. You tried to reason with him.

"If I don't blow the lint out of the line it could catch fire. You want that, Star-Brat?" Ok, so you were still a bit cranky, probably could have said that nicer. Oh well. You tried to pry his hand away but failed, sighing in frustration.

"Already did it." Kraglin lied, throwing a hinting look to Peter.

Taking the cue Peter nodded. "Uh- Yeah, he got it done while you were sleeping.'"

"See?" Kraglin said, "Now you got nothing to worry about and you can just get some rest."

You jerked your arm and this time succeeded in freeing yourself, but not without feeling faint. "Nice try." you say, stumbling back a little. "There's still other stuff I needed to get done."

Peter grabbed your arm again, afraid you might fall backward if he didn't, and this time wasted no time marching you in the direction of your room. "And it can all wait until tomorrow. Right now you rest. This is the last time we're gonna tell you."

You looked at him confused. Last time? Had there been others? Oh right... you thought remembered him and Gamora yelling at you once before... oh and Yondu... you had forgotten Yondu. Bunch of mother hens...

Too weak to free yourself again you settled for complaining that you were fine, and for Peter to just let you go about your business. It all went on deaf ears.

On the way back to your room the three of you passed by Yondu, who laughed and said, "Told ya the squirt would try and escape again, didn't I? Just as stubborn as the two of you boys."

Peter chuckled, looking to the blue man and saying, "Remember that time we had to literally tie Kraglin to the bed when he caught the Kree flu and wouldn't stay in the Med Bay?"

Kraglin rolled his eyes and Yondu laughed, looking at you. "Now there's an idea!"

You shot him a look. "If you tie me down I swear I'll gut all of you," you say crankily.

"Stay in bed then and we won't have a problem," Yondu grinned, adding, "Don't make us have to knock you out."

You glared at him again but finally allowed Peter to lead you back to your room with minimal grumbling.

Once in your room he threw back your covers and ordered you to get into bed or else he and Kraglin would tie you to it. Afraid they might actually follow through with the threat, you obeyed, grumbling about how they were treating you like a child.

"Quit acting like one and we won't have to," Kraglin quipped, pointing to the water glass on your table and stating how you needed to keep your fluids up and that it better be gone by the time one of them came back to check on you.

You just turned on your side away from them and grumbled out a sleepy, "Yeah, yeah. Leave me alone."

Satisfied that you'd finally stay put the two men left the room. Once Peter closed the door behind them Kraglin said, "I guess I better actually go clean that dryer line now, huh?"

Peter chuckled. "Yeah, maybe."

***

Peter met up with Gamora on the flight deck. "How soon until the Doc can get here?"

As soon as he, Gamora, and Kraglin had all ran down from the flight deck to see what Yondu and Rocket were yelling about and found you passed out in Yondu's arms in front of a puddle of your own all-too-bloody sick they immediately sent Kraglin back up to call one of Berhert's doctors to try and get one to meet them at the ship, knowing they were still about three days out from even thinking about landing.

"Still about a day out," Gamora answered.

"I'm getting nervous," Peter admitted since it was just he and Gamora alone now. He told her how you were you were practically burning to the touch when he was dragging you back to your room for the final time, and even though you put on a good act with the banter, you couldn't hide from him the fact that you couldn't stop shivering or the way you looked like death warmed over.

He also told her what Kraglin had said, how they thought the fever was getting to you. When they found you last you were making your way towards the flight hangar, but you thought you were headed towards the laundry. They were on opposite ends of the ship.

Gamora validated his concerns, taking his hand to comfort him before saying, "Don't worry, the doctor will get here in time."

Peter sighed and nodded.

If- No. When you got better, Peter was going to kick your ass for making him worry.

***

You woke up again a few hours later feeling thirsty and achy. You looked over to see you still had about a sip of water left and drank it. Placing the glass back on the nightstand you stared at the ceiling for a moment before realizing you also needed to pee. Ugh. Inconvenient. If you couldn't work or do anything else you'd at least rather be sleeping. Actually, now that you thought about it, right now you didn't even want to work anymore. You just wanted sleep.

You knew surely you wouldn't get yelled at for being out of bed for getting up to use the toilet, so you sat up with the intent to roll out of bed and walk across the hall to do your business. Maybe you'd get some more water on the way as well.

No sooner had you sat up did you see it in the corner. Your stomach flipped and you rubbed your eyes, but it was still there. With horror in your eyes and your urge to use the toilet completely forgotten, you stared at the horrifying sight, unable to make a sound.

In the corner of the room was a humanoid figure, looking like it had been skinned alive. It was eyeless, only dark oozing holes remained where its eyes should have been, same with its nose. It was twitching grotesquely, blood and yellow ooze sloughing off its body as it did so, puddling about the floor at its feet. It tilted its head at you with a wicked toothy grin of sharp yellow teeth.

You pressed yourself against the headboard, shaking like mad, only a tiny squeak able to leave your throat. Sweat tickled down your forehead but you didn't dare move to wipe it away.

You sat like this for what felt like an eternity but was likely only a few moments before you heard the door to your room open and heard Yondu's voice.

"Me and Rat just came to make sure ya didn't run away again." He chuckled, before noticing the state of you and his tone changed. "What's the matter?"

You didn't look at him, didn't say anything, not wanting to take your eyes off the monster or do anything that might spur it into motion, and pointed a trembling hand at it.

Yondu looked where you were pointing. There was nothing there.

He looked down at a confused Rocket and just muttered, "Shit," realizing that you were likely hallucinating from the fever. He spoke to you softly, easing himself into the room so as to not make any sudden movements, "Listen here now, there's nothing there. It's alright."

You swallowed hearing his words. There was nothing there. There was nothing there. It couldn't hurt you. It couldn't-

It took a step towards you.

"Please," you managed to get out, jerking back into the headboard, trembling. You silently begged that you would fall asleep, or wake up, anything to make the nightmare before you go away.

Yondu's eyes widened and he held up his hands as he took another gentle step toward you despite how you still hadn't looked his way. "It's alright, you're ok, whatever it is- it's not real."

"Please," you say again, pleadingly, "Please knock me out."

Yondu looked at you in confusion. "What?"

"Please... Please. Knock me out. Sedate me- I don't care." You begged. You believed his voice when it said the creature wasn't real, or at very least you wanted to believe it very badly. However, believing it wasn't real didn't change the fact that you could still see it. Tears started to leak from your eyes. "Please make it stop."

Seeing you beg like that tore at something in Yondu's heart. You guys all did scary shit all the time. Came with the job of being part of the "Guardians of the Galaxy." Everyone had seen each other scared at some point, but this was different.

He spoke softly. "Ok, ok." He looked at Rocket for assistance. When he had threatened to knock you out earlier it had only been a joke. Other than sucker-punching you, which he had no intention of doing, he didn't actually have anything he could give you that would knock you out.

Rocket spoke up, uncharacteristically softly, trying to be helpful. "Look, it's ok, we're here, you're safe." He made to jump up on the bed before Yondu could stop him.

A reddish oozing blob similar to the creature in the corner but with reddish eyes jumped up by your feet and you screamed.

Yondu's scolding cry to Rocket of "Dammit, boy! No!" was drowned out by your cry as you kicked and sent the horrible thing flying to the end of your bed. It just managed to keep from falling to the floor by sinking its claws into the blanket, and it stood back up with a shake. You shrieked as you threw your empty water glass right at the creatures head only for it to catch it and toss it aside on the bed.

Then you felt strong hands grab your wrists. You heard Yondu's voice calling your name, saying it was alright, that everything was ok, but it wasn't Yondu. It was the creature from the corner.

"I don't think that's helping!" Rocket said, hopping off the bed to narrowly avoid being kicked again.

"Well jumpin' up on the bed wasn't yer brightest idea either, boy!" Yondu scolded back. You were sliding down the headboard, trying to get away from him, so he switched tactics. He traded gripping your wrists in favor of wrapping his arms around you, effectively pining your arms with your wrists against your chest in a hug so he could rock you gently saying, "Shh, it's alright, you're safe. It's alright. Shh."

Tears ran down your face as the creature wrapped itself around you. You turned your face away, kicking and struggling to break free as you cried softly, "No no no! Please no!"

Yondu continued to rock you, hoping you'd snap out of it. After a couple more shushes and assurances that you were safe, that weren't quite working, he threw a sideways glance at Rocket. "This doesn't leave this room, got it?"

Rocket cheekily replied, "Me? Tell everyone you're a giant softie? Never!"

Yondu glared at him and was about to say something snarky in return when he heard Mantis from the doorway.

She peeked in nervously. "Is everything ok? I was walking by and I heard screaming."

Rocket got an idea. Drax had told him how Mantis had put Ego, an entire living planet, to sleep. Surely a mere Terran should be no problem. "Mantis come here, we need your help."

Mantis quickly but shyly entered your room. Seeing the state of you in Yondu's arms she worriedly asked the pair if you were ok.

"Not exactly." Rocket answered honestly, telling Mantis how the fever put you in a bad way, and they now needed her help to put you to sleep so you'd feel better.

"Think you can do that for us, Bug?" Yondu asked, still holding you tightly as you cried and struggled to get away, his eyes nearly pleading.

Mantis nodded.

You felt the creature's arms wrap tighter and you kicked fruitlessly. You had kept your eyes shut tightly, but upon feeling that you almost had an arm free you allowed them to open.

You regretted it.

There was now also a shorter monster, just like the one from the corner that had you now in its clutches. Dark horns protruded from its forehead and it opened its glistening maw as it reached a bloodied, oozing hand toward your face.

You threw back your head in a weak, terrified, cry of anguish, struggling against the hold of the other monster as you kicked and sobbed a desperate, "Please no! Don't!" before once again darkness enveloped you.

Your struggling ceased and Yondu laid you down to rest on your pillow, brushing some sweaty hair back from your eyes before standing up.

"Jeez," Rocket said, shaking his head and wondering aloud what you had seen that made you do "that."

Yondu looked down to see that Rocket wasn't just referencing your terrified crying and thrashing. He made a face of pity before sighing and looking up at Mantis. "Sweetheart, I need ya to go fetch Gamora for me, alright? If ya can't find her get Drax. I'm gonna go find some more sheets."

***

When Mantis came and told Gamora what had happened she immediately had Peter call the doctor they sent for to ask him what to do. You were clearly worsening and Peter was worried the doctor wouldn't get there in time.

Once on the line and after finding your temperature was over 40°C, and learning about the hallucinations, the doctor instructed that you needed to be cooled down immediately, and suggested they place you in a cold bath or shower. After that, they needed to keep your fluids up and monitor your fever.

Until the doctor would get there in about 18 hours, there was unfortunately not much else he could tell them to do.

So they waited.

***

The next time you fully came-to was nearly two days later.

You woke up in your bed feeling tired but better than before. Your stomach was still slightly achy, but the terrible cramping was gone. You also didn't feel as cold and stiff as you previously had.

You sat up, this time without the room performing cartwheels as you did so, and you took that as a good sign.

The room was dimly lit, but you still noticed you were wearing different clothes. You also felt... cleaner than you'd expect, for lack of better word. You realized the implications were that one of the others had likely bathed and re-dressed you and you resolved not to think too much about it as you felt a blush start to creep up your neck.

A loud snore startled you and you looked over to see Drax asleep in a chair between the wall and your bed, an open magazine spread across his stomach where he must have fallen asleep reading it.

You quietly swung your feet over the bed, intent on stretching your legs a bit, but you were startled again when your feet touched down on the floor and a loud tinkling of bells set off, startling Drax awake in turn.

After a grunt and a rub of his eyes he looked at you disapprovingly, asking what you were doing.

"I was just going to walk around a bit," you answer, doing your best not to be snarky. "Why the hell are there bells trip-wired to my bed?"

"You're supposed to stay in bed. You kept trying to get up and falling. It was Rocket's idea so we'd hear you trying to escape."

It was your turn to make a disapproving face, but you supposed you couldn't exactly be mad at them for caring, even if it seemed unnecessary. "Well, why are you here?"

"We've been taking shifts to watch over you, Peter said we were waiting for your fever to break, but I told him waiting for your temperature to return to normal would be sufficient."

"Oh," is all you could say, brushing off his absurd literalness. "Um, thank you." you add quietly. You hadn't realized.

"Yes. Now will you go back to bed, or do you need help going to the toilet again?"

You blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Well, each time you were almost awake enough to think you could walk the past couple days it was because you needed to use the toilet or you were going to vomit. I just assumed you were doing it again. You're very stubborn."

"No, Drax." you say, blushing fully now. You weren't sure if you were embarrassed more by his bluntness or the new knowledge that the others had to help you pee and clean up your sick. You didn't even want to think about if they had to wipe your ass. You'd literally die. "Even if I did, I can do it by myself. I feel much better now." It wasn't until then that it hit you what he had said. "Wait- Did you say two days?"

"I did."

"I've been out... for two days?"

"Yes."

"So... this whole time? ...You guys have been looking out for me?"

"Yes." Drax answered, seeming confused why you'd even ask. "Us and the doctor that came by yesterday." He raised an eyebrow. "Why are you crying?"

You wiped at your eyes quickly, having wished he hadn't noticed the tears that sprang to your eyes and filled your waterline. "I'm not," you sniff, looking down a the bed. "Just... Thanks. You didn't need to do that, so thanks. You can go to bed now. I feel better now. Sorry."

Drax stood. "Why are you apologizing? That's what family is supposed to do." He picked up a thermometer that had been placed on your nightstand and aimed it at your forehead. "And we did need to. You are small and weak like Peter. You would have died if we hadn't." The thermometer beeped and Drax read it. "You're right, your temperature is almost back to normal. But I suggest you still go back to sleep."

You wanted to tell him he was being dramatic about the dying part, but then you remembered that you actually didn't really remember much past seeing your bloody vomit, and you had absolutely no memory of any doctor, so you didn't push it.

"If your fever is gone you no longer need to be watched. I'll let the others know. Goodnight." Drax said, walking around the bed towards the door.

"Uh, Drax?"

He turned to you. "Yes?"

You wrapped your arms around his middle. "Thanks again."

He returned the hug, patting you on the back as he said, "You don't need to thank me. I know you'd do the same in return. Now sleep."

You pulled back from the hug and nodded, a gesture that you'd be good and go to sleep.

Drax seemed to want the confirmation of you getting back under the covers though, so with a light laugh huffed through your nose you crawled back between the sheets and obeyed. Seemingly satisfied, Drax finally left.

***

You woke the next morning feeling almost completely like yourself again.

You washed up and dressed, but not before removing the trip-wire bells from your bed, and then you made your way out of your room to get a glass of water and see if you could find the others.

Turned out, both the water and your teammates were all in the same place.

You walked into the kitchen to find everyone already inside. Before you could say anything Kraglin spoke up.

"Look! The world's worst patient lives!" he said with a grin.

"Nah, Krags, that's still you." Yondu corrected, giving you a wink as Peter agreed with him, but amended that it was a close race.

You walked over to a cabinet to get yourself a glass. "Drax told me what you guys did, and- well, thanks," you say walking over to the sink. "I mean, spare me the details, I don't want to hear anymore about it than what Drax already told me happened, but still, thanks. You didn't need to." You filled your glass and turned back to face them, sipping your water.

Yondu noted your blush and nudged you in the arm on his way to the coffee. "Don't mention it, kid."

This sentiment was met with nods and verbalizations of agreement from the others. You were family. That's what family did.

"Kay, but next time, which I hope there won't be, just stay in bed." Peter laughed.

"Yeah, yeah." you say, grumbling playfully.

"You hear that? Someone write that down." said Rocket, "We're going to hold you to that."

"Don't push it." you say, eyeing the raccoon.

"What? Your stubborn ass only tried to escape like a hundred times," Kraglin joked.

"And that's my cue to get to work," you say, setting your glass on the counter with the intent to run away from this conversation. However, you were stopped by Yondu grabbing your sleeve with an "Ah, Ah" and Gamora shoving a bowl of Yarrow Root across the table with the command to "Eat something first. You don't want to set yourself back and get sick again."

You sighed but didn't argue, knowing it was better to comply and realizing you were a little hungry anyway. You took a root from the bowl and bit into it to satisfy your friends.

That's when Peter speaks up and tells you that the doctor said you needed to take it easy for at least a day or two.

You narrowed your eyes. "When?"

"When she was here."

"When was that?" You take another bite of the root.

"Couple days ago."

You swallow. "Well then I'm considering that as time served." you say, deciding you'd take your breakfast to go.

Drax blocked your path.

"Um, can I get through?"

"No. Quill said this might happen. I'm stopping you from escaping. Finish your breakfast."

You shoot a glare at Peter before giving a hopeful look to Rocket. "You can talk some sense into them, right?"

Rocket shrugged. "Not my problem." before collecting Groot and leaving the kitchen with Mantis, who mouthed the word "Sorry" to you as they left.

You sighed, knowing there sure as hell wasn't any reasoning with the other five. "Really? This is what we're gonna do?"

"Yep." Peter grinned. Yondu and Kraglin simply shrugged behind their coffee.

Once you relented and sat down Gamora stood and stated that it wouldn't kill you to rest after being sick before leaving with Drax, who had apparently decided his job as security guard was now over. He said he was glad you were feeling better before following Gamora to the door and saying to her, without consideration that you could still hear, something to the tune that he imagined you felt better... now that you weren't puking and soiling yourself.

You choked on your water.

The other three pretended to be utterly fixated with the table and walls of the kitchen and you covered your face with your hands and moaned, "Next time please let me die."

"Will ya settle for us forgettin' it happened and never speakin' of it again?" Kraglin asked, fighting back a chuckle.

"Yes please." you squeaked from behind your hands.

Seeing an opportunity and taking it Peter added, "You still have to take the next couple days easy though."

"Anything!" you promise, lowering your head to the table.

"I think we got ourselves a deal." Yondu laughed, getting up to put his now empty coffee cup in the sink. "C'mon squirt, I'm sure we can find somethin' to take your mind off it."

And you did. You spent the next couple days just hanging around the ship with the guys and watching old movies Peter had collected over the years, telling funny stories, playing cards, and actually keeping your promise to let your body rest. Before long the whole ordeal was all but forgotten, but you were still always grateful for your family.

You knew no matter what, they had your back.

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

hi can i please request one where levi's s/o is sort of like him in personality but just melts whenever theres a baby. like she'll see a baby in town and will go from silent and moody to the heart eyes emoji but a person, or she'll babysit her neice or nephew or cousin and will be just so loving and bubbly? like its obvious that she wants to be a mum but she never brings it up because she doesnt think he wants kids and eventually they get pregnant + his reaction? sorry if this is too much (1/2)

ΑΝΟΟΟΟΝ IM BLUSHING THANK YOU SO MUCH. I really loved this request and it inspired me so I pushed before others because I had to get it out of my system. I hope you like this. It's super duper long also👉👈

Warnings: uhh pregnancy, mentions of anxiety

Tags: fluff, domestic Levi, pregnancy, modern au

Pairing: Levi/ Reader

Baby Fever

Your heartbeat grew louder with each passing second as Mike abused the door with one too many knocks. You didn't know if you could talk, or breath or do anything other than vomiting though this time from the anxiety building at the pits of your stomach and not due to your very recent event of morning sickness.

"Are you alright in there?"

You choke on your own voice as you try to huff a single response. It's not really up to your judgement of you're alright or not but rather in the small white object's that rests between the thumbs and pointer fingers of each of your hands. You contemplate if there's a way to not raise any more suspicion to the blond male, you're at his house for all that matters. Nanaba called you to take care of their their twins and you happily complied to your half sister's pleas because Mike had a very important job interview. Life had taken a toll on him lately, they couldn't afford a babysitter and he was just recently fired due to his company having to cut down expenses thanks to the pandemic. Amidst this pandemonium he had to find a way to provide for his family and help Nanaba with at least a short monthly salary. So babysitting your beloved niece and nephew wasn't much of a problem. Not until now.

At first it hadn't bothered you that your period was late, you had accepted the pcos lifestyle the hard way ever since you first got it. You would track down your period in hopes you could ever predict when it would come again but it always seemed to surprise you. Sometimes it would come in a months notice only to take four months to do a full circle. At twenty three, this was the most positive outturn as a resolution to your problem. Levi was pushing you to eat healthy and exercise to get a better grip of your situation, even though you knew it was in vain. And thus, overall it didn't bother you that you hadn't had your period still, fatigue and breast inflammation were also common problems due to hormonal abnormalities so you chose not to pay any attention to those early signs either.

What had driven you to urge Levi to drop you off to the drugstore next to Nanaba's house though was that you've been having symptoms of morning sickness for almost a week now, that you had tried to push aside for Levi not to notice. He would quarantine you on your on your own and go stay with Erwin and Hange had he any suspicion of you being down with the stomach flu. The stomach flu though didn't feel like that and you knew, you had been through it one too many times, this was something different and yet you cursed at yourself for overthinking it. You had bought the pregnancy test as something that was supposed to turn out negative, as a positive resolution that you weren't pregnant and that you should quest for whatever it was that was making your stomach turn and twist every morning.

Upon finally opening the door in an attempt not to delay Mike who wanted to attend his interview, the blond male inspected your form with a harsh gaze. "You shouldn't push yourself if you're sick. We could call my mother to watch over Eli and Blaire."

"No." You pushed it off. "I'm fine Mike, it's probably that weird mushroom soup I ate yesterday, Levi insisted on not buying it but I didn't listen."

"I see." Mike said scrunching his nose at the process. Sometimes you hated that he knew you so well that he could even smell you lying, but he was Nanaba's childhood friend before her mother married your father and had you; you had practically grown up with the blond duo so for all you knew, even if he was certainly aware that you were lying he didn't push things further. He simply placed a hand on your shoulder, the brother like nature of his touch as assuring as one can be. "If you need anything call me, I'll answer as soon as possible, drink lots of water and don't wear yourself down."

You bore your eyes into his and nodded simply. Mike greeted the twins with reluctance and let out a sigh before fixing his suit perfectly on his shoulders. The small kids smiled bubbly in return and waved at their father enthusiastically. As soon as the door closed and their father got out of sight both children jumped on you with loud giggles. The act alone was enough to curl your lips into an upward position.

By noon you had fed and lulled the kids to sleep, earning some significant time to sink into the crevices of the feathery soft sofa before Nanaba came back from her shift. As tiring as Eli and Blaire were you enjoyed their teeny company. You didn't mind their lack of ability to form full understandable sentences yet, you loved how they didn't even try to spare a second thought on what they bubbled on about and you did your best to provoke them to speak correctly. They would open their arms for you, their tiny palms signaling you to take them into long affectionate hugs as they called a baby spoken version of your nickname and you would melt at it every single time. Everyone knew you much you loved the chubby cheeked sweethearts, as much as it contrasted with your usual demeanor. There was something that truly made you feel like the best version of yourself when you were around them.

Babies seemed to be a hot topic in your group of friends for a couple of months now, ever since you started helping Nanaba in the house before Mike got fired. Levi seemed very unbothered by the subject in a way that saddened you almost; sure, you might have talked about it in the past, being that he was a little older than you and he might have understood that you longed to be a mother one day, but that was as far as that one conversation had gone. He still had that bored, stoic gaze that slipped off of yours when you would encounter a baby in the street, whereas you would basically make heart eyes and weird grimaces to any infant he would just click his tongue and avert his gaze away, to any other direction as if he disapproved off your fondness.

That memory alone left you hollowing inside as you recalled of the two very much pink lines on the screen of the test this morning. Naturally you would check with a doctor before jumping to conclusions, there still was a chance that the test was at fault and you wanted to bet on simply that. If the case was that you were actually pregnant though things were more complicated than you wanted them to be. For instance you were still in University, for your last year at that, but you had excessive amounts of studying to get your hands on your degree and Levi was cornered and ready to be squished by his job for being a vice president, which was unfair as he worked for Erwin. You understood the situation though as Erwin was struggling to keep the company going especially through these rough rough times. There was also the fact that you were terrified of Levi asking you to put the baby down, with pcos wearing your system down you were panicking that you wouldn't have a chance to conceive a baby later on. What if this was your only chance? You've always longed to be a mother so it didn't matter that it came to you this early right?

The sound of the front door clicking open shook you off your thoughts immediately. For better or for worse it was Nanaba that had finally returned, eager to strip herself of her clothes and face mask and run to the bathroom. She offered you small greeting to which you only nodded, your tired mind ordering your eyes to find comfort at small shapes in the ceiling. You didn't know how long your sister took in the bathroom, but judging by the lack of giggling coming from the babies' room you supposed it wasn't for long.

"You want to wait for Levi to come pick you up or should I give you a ride home when Mike's back? He should be home soon!" She spoke as she poured water in a red metallic boiler.

"I'll just walk. I need some air."

Nanaba emitted a soft hum in response "Are you alright? You seem off."

"Oh no." You brushed her off "I was just thinking about what I should wear at Erwin and Hange's anniversary dinner next week, and what gift to buy Levi now that his birthday is coming."

"Good, I see, just don't stress alright?"

___

The way home was longer than you had initially remembered, whether it was for your inability to walk with a steady pace or mostly because it was already getting dark and cold. You wondered if Levi would be getting home by now as you neared the apartment complex the two of you resided in. By the looks of your illuminated window he was already home as expected of him this certain hour. It probably was one of those days when he didn't have a strict deadline to attend to, which, under normal circumstances, only meant more cuddles and kisses for you. Yet, tonight was different.

"Hey Levs" Your voice lingered in his brain the moment you stepped inside.

"Hey brat, welcome home." The kiss you left on his cheek as you hurriedly headed to the bathroom was different, off almost, and he picked up on it immediately. "Did Nanaba drop you off? I had asked Mike to come by tonight, he said he'd bring some tea leaves he bought for me."

He leaned at the frame of the door as he watched you wash every crevice of your face thoroughly, paying enough attention to the insides of your outer nasal cavity. He was pretty meticulous about hygiene and especially at times like these with a hole pandemic going on he wasn't taking any chances, you knew, plus you were kind of disgusted of germs lately yourself, you thought you finally understood where he was coming from. He took a few steps ahead, away from your body in search of a clean face towel to hand out to you when you were done. You have it to him, even if he seemed cold as stone that domestic lifestyle was mesmerizing to you.

"Thanks baby, you're the best." You half smiled.

"You good?"

At this point you wondered if you seriously we're so easy to read. You supposed you were off, but you were always off and unresponsive to many things so what exactly was it about today that made everyone know you had a conflict in your mind.

"Yeah I'm just tired, I walked here."

Levi clicked his tongue at that "Nanaba's home is very far away from here, have a shower and I'll rub your legs and feet." With eyes that never left yours Levi watched as your face lit up a little more, he gave you a tiny of a smile on return.

"You prooomise Levs?" You knew teasing with him could only lead to one thing, yet you did it shamelessly.

"Tch, of course, hurry up, I'm making pancakes with eggs and bacon."

Normally at the very sound of this particular food your eyes would water and your mouth would drool but the unresponsive nature of your expression only sent a new wave of worry through Levi's chest. As much as he had wanted to convince himself you were just tired, he couldn't, not after this reaction to your favorite snack. He decided not to push you into saying anything you didn't want to though. Maybe it was that enormous amount of notes you had to memorize for your next exams in addition to your fatigue and any hormonal altercations.

"Yeah" you trailed off "babe, about that, can we have cocktail shrimp? And maybe fried rice and fries? Pretty pretty please?"

Ah, there it was. Although it was a rare occasion for you not to be in the mood of his infamous pancakes, you could still have a few different cravings from time to time. Levi let out a sigh of relief as he proceeded your order trying to figure of where he should order from, last night's mushroom soup had messed your stomach up, that he knew, but you seemed to be fine now so in theory that should be enough to prevent him from whining out his concerns.

As he closed the door to the bathroom he hummed his favorite tune to himself, softly enough as not to disturb you with your bath. He picked up his phone from the kitchen table with ease before collapsing on the couch, there was a limit to what his body could take and he had surpassed that by far these past few months. Endless deadlines that took turns one after another and extra hours at the office had been killing him, mentally and physically, making him a little more grumpy than usual. In great addition his back ached, his fingers were sore and his mind felt like canned alphabet soup every single night. Perhaps, seeing him in this state was taking a toll on you as well; you were always so protective over him, almost like a mother to her child, despite being younger, and he if he had to, he'd admit he enjoyed it a little too much than he should have.

When you came out of the bathroom he gazed over you briefly, you were sitting before the end of the dresser, standing in front of the full body mirror, examining your form. He seemed to be puzzled by your demeanor once again. Normally, or up until yesterday, you would have immediately shot out to where he was seated at to plough into his arms with wet hair, only to slightly irritate him for getting him wet, not that he didn't enjoy to smell your fresh scent anyway, but it was a game of routine for you by now. It was almost as if you were seeking to be scolded at for not rushing to dry your hair. He always wanted you as healthy as ever.

You couldn't shake off your head how soft Levi's chest is. There probably wasn't a reason as to why he's sleeping shirtless tonight, your apartment was very warm, given that it was the start of December already, but you didn't complain. The feeling of creamy, milky soft skin, perfectly excused by any coarse hair was slowly putting you to sleep. You loved how Levi was so soft everywhere you touched, it was so unlike what the world perceived of him, maybe your baby's skin was going to be as smooth and perfect as his and not as dry and oily as yours. Of course the baby's skin was going to be soft, ugh and those little arms and legs, you couldn't lie to your self, deep down you were just a tad excited to have a baby, if it meant that it would look like Levi you wouldn't want to give up on it for the world.

"Levi, does Kenny keep baby pictures of you?"

"What?" The onyx haired male raised a brow at your inquiry but didn't give you enough time to repeat yourself before he answered. "My mother had so many pictures of me so I guess that it's natural that he has some and well there probably are a few pictures from after my mother's death, I'm not that sure."

In response, he only earned a hum.

"Tch, can I lay on your chest? I want you to play with my hair." His eyes pleaded with you in the darkness. Of course you could never say no to such thing, you loved it even more when he was the one sleeping on you. Another sentence left his lips, this time with a yawn as he shifted himself on you, cooing like a small child. "I'll call Kenny tomorrow, sleep now I know you need it."

____

Under any other circumstance you would have loved seeing everyone's dumbfounded faces stating at you as if they had seen the dead rise from their graves. You had to pinch your arms to remind yourself this was indeed serious and you shouldn't let out a single chuckle.

"Please tell me you're joking" Nanaba pleaded, placing her hand on yours in disbelief.

"I'm going to screeeeeam! Shorty can't even hold it in, ghaaaa!"

"Hange he will hear you through the restroom."

Hange blinked her eyes rapidly at the sound of that. "You haven't told him?" She immediately seemed to lose her enthusiasm, something you hadn't intended to happen, especially at such a night, but you knew you didn't have a say in other people's emotions.

"Hange he never seemed too fond of the idea, why would I complicated things for him?"

Mike's eyes widened in disbelief. There was no way in hell he was having this. You were practically his little sister, seeing you so tormented as you were in the moment when you spoke those words ravaged his last nerve, causing anger to clench his hands into fists. He watched as you took a small bite of your food giving the rest to Eli who was comfortably sitting on your lap, tapping his little hands on the rim of your plate. Other than the fact you broke out such news to him, Nanaba Hange and Erwin and had expressed your fears on informing your significant other, you seemed quite bubbly. Children really did bring out such a soft side of you, he knew that was for sure.

"Hange" you spoke, unphased as ever "Levi's coming please stop screaming at me, i love you but it's only making me dizzy."

It felt as if a thousand pairs of eyes were burning holes through his whole body, his head, and everywhere around his personal space bubble. Levi could feel his pulse tense just a tad, Hange's unnerving gaze and her crippling smile were fixated especially on him, making his nose itchy. There was something very different in the atmosphere around him; Nanaba wasn't eating anymore, she was more fixated on her daughter than anyone else, Erwin was nervously staring between him and you and you and Mike were trying to clean Eli's hands from the food he had just touched. When the scenery wasn't something irregular, none of you dared look eachother in the eyes, beat it that Hange was staring only at him.

"Oi, what the fuck is wrong-"

"Levi, shorty! Does Eli look like he's enjoying himself in (y/n)'s arms?" Hange turned her sweetened gaze on you, making you choke on your words, you shot her an atrociously strict glare. "Remember when Nanaba gave birth? What do you think about babies? Maybe you think they smell a lot? But what about ackerbabies?"

"Way to be discreet Han, thank you!" Your lips puckered in anger as you brought your arms to cross under your chest.

"Wait what's going on shitty glasses?"

"Yada Yada shorty, you're not getting a word from me, my lips are sealed" Hange spoke and shut her eyes to emphasize the significance of her words.

You sighed in a pathetic attempt to relieve some tention of your chest. A tight knot had formed due to anxiety, fog had clouded over your brain and you were feeling so faint and exhausted that you just wanted to get it over with. You didn't mind standing there like a fish out of water after breaking the news to him, the tention in the air was in fact what was making you suffocate in your seat. With wobbly hands you pushed Eli off your lap, not caring about the moan of disagreement he made and you shot up from your seat, announcing you had to take some fresh air. Levi had to stop Nanaba mid tracks to be able to come after you, fast enough to be there when you got out.

Naturally, you stood seated at a bench that neared the restaurant. Your hands were covering your face scratching softly through your hair, probably in attempts to calm your self down. He approached you without any second thought, this time determined to know what was it with you. Your behavior these past week had been unnerving and overly concerning to say the least. Carefully he sat himself down next to you, his right arm come around your frame comfortingly while the left one came to caress underneath your cheek.

"You should probably talk to me."

Your voice came muffled from between your palms as you still hadn't dared to look him in the eye. "Levi, I'm, I'm so sorry it's just... I'm very anxious."

"I think I figured that, brat." His voice was so soothing, it felt as if he was speaking to you in the comfort of your private room, not on a bench outside a semi fancy restaurant

"You know when Hange talked about ackerbabies she uhm, she might have had a particular baby in mind."

Levi blinked erratically for a single second before his mouth, unable to compel to his brain's orders, formed the shape of an oh. Of course, in the moment it was hard to click with any other even but he attributed that to his lack of knowledge over the situation. Had he any clue or suspicion that you could be pregnant he would have been able to realise that it wasn't that your stress had been messing with your stomach every morning and that your extreme fatigue couldn't possible align with the erratically swift rhythm of your palms. Of course, of course it wasn't a thermometer that you had disposed of in the toilet, he wanted to slap himself for being so naive as to believe that. He was strict with recycling rules, you wouldn't have just straight up there s thermometer in the trash. Fuck now's not the time to think about recycling.

With the soft, chaste kiss at the top of your hair you finally decided to turn your gaze to him. Watery eyes met with an adoring grey gaze, a gaze you've never seen at this extreme before. "I love you, you know." Another kiss meant your head got to lift a little more, just to get closer to him. "I don't say it often but you don't have to worry, I'll try to tell our kid more often."

Your eyes shimmered with adoration at his words, despite the cold weather you couldn't bring yourself to feel not even a little tingle, Levi was keeping you so warm with his words. "Really? You want this?"

"Tch why wouldn't I, you thought I'd ever let you go and leave me lonely? I've always thought you knew we're sharing the same future."

Your lips attacked his in fiery passion. It was a natural reaction to his words, an ice melting kiss, a promise for the future. There were many reasons as to why you lived Levi but maybe the fact that you would have a little stoic faced baby running around your feet made you love him a little bit more.

[pixieungerstories]

Quarentine - 1

They always say ‘buy the worst house on the best block that you can afford’ and god knows this place was a total shit hole.  1200 square feet on an overgrown lot surrounded by McMansions.  Hell, I paid less for the place that the land was worth.  I’m amazed someone hadn’t bulldozed the place years ago.

To make a long story short, I did not look a gift house horse in the mouth.

I mean, it wasn’t a total write off.  None of the windows were smashed.  There were mature fruit trees in the backyard.  If you ignored the weeds and rotting fruit, there was a lot of potential.  The plumbing was lead pipes and the electrical was knob and tube, but I know people and I could trade favours to get that replaced.  The foundations were good and the roof barely leaked.

I spent the summer camping in a tent in the back yard and slowly getting the place winterized enough that I could move it.

It was still a creepy ass house when I did.  It had a boiler.  I had no idea how to deal with that, but I was learning.  And I learned how to ignore the whistles, hissing and banging sounds that went with having a boiler.  The old rads were cast iron with pretty little details in the corners.

There were holes in the plaster, but I just ignored them.  It wasn’t worth fixing when I was going to gut the place and put up drywall eventually.  It just made it easier to get at the plumbing.

I started just living in the kitchen and ignoring the rest of the house.  I had disconnected the rest of the electrical and plumbing and was using that as a home base while I renovated outwards from there.

There is nothing quite as creepy as sleeping in a sleeping bag on what were probably asbestos tiles in an old house that makes the weird noises that old houses make.  I kept reminding myself that they only seemed louder than normal because the place was empty and there was nothing to muffle the sound.  The shrieking had to be the upstairs window that didn’t quite shut properly.

I had the feeling that something was watching me and prayed to god it wasn’t rats.

I was in this for the long haul.  Get up, shower at the gym, go to work, come home, renovate until it gets dark, shower at the gym, camp out in the kitchen.  Not exciting, but satisfying.  Let’s face it, this was the only way I was ever going to be able to afford a house.

When the work from home order came, I had to actually get a phone line installed so I could have internet access.  Me, my laptop and a kitchen table I rescued from the curbside a while back.

The creepy feeling was worse.  I told myself it had to be the isolation kicking in.  I skyped with my best friends at night to make up for it.  The power was still a bit dodgy and kept going out, but that’s what laptop batteries and cell phones are for, right?

I was sure the cough was from the dust.

The guy delivering groceries left them on the sidewalk instead of the porch.  It was fine.  I understood completely.  I hadn’t done much work on the outside of the building at all. 

I realized I was sneezing a bit when I started having to use toilet paper as kleenex.

I was fine.  I was young and healthy.  I didn’t have any sick days at work so I was determined to just push through.

I tried to get more rest.

I dreamed about something laying a cool hand on my forehead.

The grocery store was out of thermometers.

I mean, did it really matter if I had a fever?  I wasn’t leaving the house to share with anyone.

My cough got worse overnight.  I was vaguely aware of someone lifting me up and holding a cup of cool water to my lips.  I was so fucking thirsty. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” I mumbled.  “I don’t want you to get sick.”

“I won’t,” a rumbling voice assured me.

I didn’t remember making soup, but I jolted into awareness sitting at the table with a steaming bowl in front of me.  Chicken noodle out of a can.  It’s not that hard to make.  I’m sure I could add water and heat in my sleep.  Apparently, I just did.

I was so cold that night.  I don’t know where the extra blankets came from, but they were there in the morning.

I don’t know how I ordered a bed while I was sick, but it was there and on my credit card.  So was the mattress and sheets.  It must have been the fever talking when I ordered them.  I would not have picked out anything that old fashioned looking.

How did I get all this stuff up to the second floor bedroom?  I’m sure I don’t remember stripping the paint off the closet doors.   I must be losing my mind.  I slept, I ate, I stopped logging in at work.  I just needed to concentrate on getting better.

By the time I was able to stay awake for more than an hour at a time, the city was shut down.  I was confined to my house whether I liked it or not.  I was suddenly glad my fever addled brain had ordered a bed while I still could.  

The watched feeling was worse.  I ordered some rat traps with my groceries.  I didn’t catch anything.  They didn’t take the bait.  I swear I heard snickering when I checked them in the morning.  That was a new sound for the boiler to make.

“I am losing my mind,” I repeated to myself.  Then blushed when I realized I had said it aloud.  “And yes, I also talk to myself,” I added for good measure.  “At least it is some sound,” I muttered.  “I should turn on some music or something.”

Work was officially shut down but I still had the dumpster outback.  I spend my awake time cleaning out the other rooms.  The advantage of living in a construction zore was all the dust masks.  When I needed to actually go out, that might help.  In the meantime, I carefully sorted through the things the previous owners had left behind.  Some of it was just trash, but there were some old photographs, lost buttons, even a single antique earring.

“No chance of finding a pair, I bet.  Still this could be made over into a necklace or something.”  Shit.  I was talking to myself again, wasn’t I?

I still got tired easily.  I dreamed about my mom stroking my hair as I slept.

The footprints I couldn’t explain away.

I had taken down a section of wall and spent the day carrying out the chunks of plaster before microwaving a pizza pop and tucking in early.  In the morning there were footprints in the dust.  They weren’t mine.  They were huge and it was hard to believe they were human.  Weird long toes, with the claw tips a little in front were not what I was expecting.

That was the first time I had wanted to leave the house.

I grabbed my stuff and made it to the front yard before I was spotted by a passing patrol car and ordered back inside.  I had no idea how to explain that I thought there was some sort of monster living in my house.  I was shaking as I went back inside.

“Hello?”  I called from the doorway, ready to run.  I had no idea where I could even run to.  “Um…  Is anyone there?”  I don’t know what I was expecting.  “Hi?  Um ….  I bought the house, I didn’t know there was any … thing living here.  I have been trying to fix it up.”

“I know.”

Fuck.  The scratchy, rasping bass voice was not what I was expecting.  “I … uh…  I can go back to camping in the yard,” I suggested.

“No.”

I waited to hear if he (?) was going to say anything else.

Apparently not.

“Uh … no I can’t stay here?  Or no, you don’t even want me camping in the backyard?”

“If I didn’t want you here, I would have had many opportunities to get rid of you.”

Shit.  That wasn’t ominous or threatening at all.

With a low chuckle the voice asked, “Did you mean to say that out loud?”

I froze and tried to remember what I had said.  Oh.  “No, that was an accident.  I’m not used to having anyone around to hear me.”

“I always hear you.”

I closed the door and went out to sit in the garden for a moment to think about that.  I ended up pacing, swearing and wishing for a cigarette.  I hadn’t smoked in years.    The sun started to go down and the bugs came out.  I was being eaten alive outside.  Going inside was scary but he was right.  He had lots of time to …

I flung open the door.  “Did you order furniture on my credit card?”  I demanded.

The laughter that rang out was a whole other level of creepy.  I shivered and thought about going back outside.  The door pulled itself closed behind me.  I spun to look at it and didn’t see anything.  I could hear something breathing. I turned again.  Nothing.

“If we are both going to live here, can we at least agree on some ground rules?”

“Like what?” was almost purred in my ear.  Looking around wildly, I still couldn’t see anything.

I was shaking now.  “Is there a way for you to be less scary so I don’t have a heart attack?” I squeaked.

There was nothing but silence.  Still my sense of the presence suggested it was gone.

I didn’t sleep that night.  I would just start to nod off then jerk myself awake and look wildly around the room.  I never saw anything.

Six am, my alarm went off and I could smell coffee.

All the dust had been swept up.

“Hello?” I whispered.

Nothing.  I had coffee and cereal and tried not to think about my surprise roommate.  I was so tired, I passed out at my computer in the kitchen at some point that morning, only to wake in bed upstairs in the afternoon.  “I don’t want you to touch me while I’m sleeping,” I mumbled, painfully aware that there was dick all I could do to stop it.

“Alright,” the voice said, coming from somewhere in the direction of the closet.  “But don’t fall asleep at the table then.”

I breathed a faint sigh of relief.  I wasn’t expecting the next part.

“You need to eat something now.  You are still recovering.”

There was a can of soup heating on the stove.  My breakfast dishes were gone.  I found them clean and dry in the cupboard.  “Thank you,” I whispered.  He didn’t reply.  As I ate lunch, I was psyching myself into going upstairs to look in the closet.  The door had been painted shut when I got the house, but at some point had been stripped down to the bare wood.

I hadn’t worked up the nerve by the time I was done eating.  Or washing and drying the dishes.  I found myself at the bottom of the stairs staring up at the second floor.  Did I really want to see what was in that closet?

No.

But it would be better to look during the light of day.

Eventually, I made it up there.  I put my hand on the knob and tried to turn it.  It didn’t budge.

“You want rules?” the voice growled behind me.  I spun, there was nothing there.  “Do not open that door.  Do not come into my space.”

I went from trembling from nerves to bolting down the stairs in an instant.  I nearly tripped, but felt something - him? - catch me and set me on my feet.

“Careful,” he purred.

I spent the rest of the day in the garden again.  I was still out there when the sun went down and the back light turned on.  Then the kitchen light and for a moment I could see something outlined against the antique curtains I hadn’t replaced in the kitchen.  I tried to remind myself that he wasn’t necessarily that big.  He might just be closer to the light and casting a bigger shadow.

I didn’t believe it, but I tried.

I crept back into the house like a scared child who wasn’t sure how angry their parents were going to be after they had done something wrong.  I turned on all the lights on the main floor and stayed in the kitchen away from the stairs.

“Planning on staying up all night?”

I jumped.  “How are you always behind me?”

“I live in the shadows.  Go to bed.”

“Um…  I was thinking, that should be your room, really.  Your closet.  You picked out the bed.  I can just camp down -”

“No.  Go to bed.”

“Do you really think I’m going to be able to sleep in a room with a closet that must not be opened?  I have read Blue Beard, you know.”

“So have I.  The wife gets the house and lives happily ever after.”

“The last wife does,” I pointed out.  “The first dozen or so didn’t.”

He chuckled at that.  “We made a deal, remember?”

“Are you teasing me?  What deal?”

“I don’t touch you in your sleep.  You don’t sleep in the kitchen anymore.”

“How big are you?”

The lights flickered and went off.

“Do you want to see me?”  he purred, so close that I could feel his breath on my neck.

“Not in the dark,” I squeaked.

“Go to bed.”  

The light snapped back on, leaving me blinking.

I spent the night sitting on the bed with my back pressed against the headboard trying to see the whole room at one.  Eventually, I fell asleep.

My alarm did not go off at six.  It had been turned off.  The coffee was ready but not turned on when I went down stairs.  The air smelled faintly of solder.  There was a post-it stuck to the coffee maker.  Fine copperplate handwriting told me:

I have replaced the plumbing

I stared at it dumbly.  I had replaced the plumbing to the kitchen sink and the downstairs powder room and had been washing out of the sink since I had been forced to stay home.  The only other plumbing was down to the washing machine in the cellar and the upstairs bathroom.  I pushed the button on the coffee maker and slowly crept upstairs.

Sure enough the stack of copper pipe waiting in the other bedroom was gone. 

Well, not gone.  I could see it installed through the holes in the walls.  I turned on the tap to the sink and sure enough, I had water.  I now had an upstairs, working bathroom with a clawfoot tub.

And no walls.

“I don’t like the idea of you watching me bathe,” I called out.  Then I felt like an idiot because if whatever it was had voyeur tendencies, it could have been watching me for months.  I tried all the taps and the toilet.  Everything worked.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, unsure if I was talking to myself.

“You’re welcome.”  It was the least creepy, most normal thing I had heard from him.

----

When I got back downstairs, there still wasn’t coffee but there was a new note:

Humans who do not sleep start to hallucinate

I crumbled it up, threw it across the room and jabbed the on switch on the coffee maker.  Nothing happened.  I growled as I plugged it in.  The power went out.

“Oh come on!  Withholding coffee is cruel and unusual punishment!”

“Sleep.”  It sounded like the whole house had murmured that last bit.

I wish I could say I handled it gracefully, but I didn’t.  I stomped back up to the bedroom like a petulant child.

I woke to bright sunlight streaming in through the window.  The house was quiet and it felt empty for the first time in days.  I had a bath and washed my hair and I felt better than I had in days too.  Clean and dry and dressed, I bounced into the kitchen to try and turn on the coffee again only to see my laptop snap shut.

It was with a lot of trepidation that I opened it.  I was expecting a ridiculous online purchase which is why I stared dumbly at the screen unable to process what I was seeing.

It was a CGI woman with her hands tied to something over her head being railed by a monster who was fingering her clit with one hand and fondling her breasts with the other while her belly distended in rhythm with his thrusts.

“Ugh!  Dude!  You can NOT watch porn on my laptop!” I shrieked as I frantically tried to close the window.

“Would you rather I watch you?” he asked calmly from somewhere to the left of me.

I breathed out a shaky breath.  “OK.  Let’s talk about private browser windows and how not to get a computer virus.”

When I got to the end of my tentative explanation, I asked, “Do you need … some alone time?”

There was another house shaking howling laugh.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“You need to eat.”

That brought up a whole other issue.  “Do you?  Eat I mean.  Do you eat?  What do you eat?”

“Don’t worry about me.  I am not going to eat you.  Unless you ask nicely.”

I blushed even further but got out a pan and a skillet meal from the fridge.

I spend the rest of the afternoon weeding the garden.  I came in when it got dark, heated up my leftovers from lunch and tried to figure out what to do with myself.  The nap had meant that I wasn’t tired for the first time in days.

I wondered what he would do if I watched a movie.  I hunted through the cupboards and found a bag of microwave popcorn from before the virus started.  Right! I thought.  Bowl of popcorn, a movie, skype with a few friends.  Pretend none of this was happening.

I wasn’t surprised when the lights went out.  That was just a thing now.  My computer was still illuminating a bubble around me and B99 was still hilarious.

I wasn’t expecting the bed to dip next to me.  That once again raised the question of how to deal with him around others.  I hit the mute button.  “What are you doing?” I asked icily.

“Not touching you.  What are you eating?”

“Human food.”

“Hmmm.”

I unmuted my computer to answer Penny’s question about how stir crazy I was going.

“12/10 on the looney toons scale,” I offered.

She just laughed.

All of the popcorn was gone.

“Ah hell.”

“What’s wrong?” Penny asked.

“All my popcorn is gone,” I grumbled.  I didn’t add that I had more than half a bowl left a moment ago.  Not eating me, I reminded myself.

“That sucks.  Need to pause and get more?”

“I don’t have anymore.”

She just laughed, “But do you still have toilet paper and hand sanitizer?”

I chuckled, “Toilet paper, at least.”

“I should go.  It’s getting late,” she said with a yawn.

“Yeah.  Good night.”  After Penny signed off, I just let Netflix autoplay the next episode.

“Do you need to sleep?” The whisper seemed to come from the direction of the closet but the bed was still dipped under his weight on my other side.

My heart leapt to my throat.  “How many of you are there?”

“Just me,” he purred too close to my ear.  I flung myself away from him and toppled out of bed.  Two hands caught me.

Two other hands caught my laptop.

I stared as it was placed back on the bed a little way in front of me.  The hands on my arms were cool and smooth.  “What are you?”

“I am me.  I have not asked your name.  You will not ask mine.”

“My name is on the mail.  And my credit card.  You know my name,”  I pointed out keeping my eyes locked on the screen, fighting the urge to look around.

“Nonetheless.”

This wasn’t going to work, but I had to try.  “I would like to be alone now.”

The bed shifted as the weight was removed from the side.  The black shadows that could be fingers moved from my computer.  The voice said, “Good night” from the direction of the closet.  

I sat frozen.  “In the morning, I’m moving the bed to another room.”

“Why?”

“Because the closet is yours and it’s scary being here with you,” I admitted.

“I have never done anything to harm you.”

“You scare the shit out of me multiple times a day.”

There was a long pause before he replied, “And yet you haven’t left.”

“The city is on lock down.  I can’t leave.”

“Hmm.”  

I jumped as my laptop snapped shut.  I fumbled in the dark trying to find it on my bed, “What are you doing?” I demanded.

“Taking this downstairs.  I will not bother you tonight.”

“What-” I started to say, then snapped my mouth shut as the realization that this may be his ‘alone time’.

This time the “Good night,” came from the bedroom door.

In the morning the only thing in my browsing history was netflix.  This was less comforting since I had shown him how to clear the cache.  I told myself at least the keyboard wasn’t sticky.

[madfantasy]

Long cold shower (cuz guardians hates any degree of hot shower nd turn off the boiler in summer, while u should at the day, but not at night) later, I am peppy and calmly simmering, like usual heh, cuz they told me "oh I didn't know I was living in America" shaming my shoulders being out c:

I had probably the worst 2 weeks yet of fighting — they do seem to do things purposely so I lose my mind over and they take that as a reason to justify their later actions.

They had a plan to invite some rando stranger women to visit, which I didn't understand it— it was absolutely out of the blue and she wasn't even a family member, she was divorced out of this family, so I was like why the frk this insistence to bring her to our home and we, sibs nd I, demand to act as if we gave a flying frk about her.

Our distance family were the top reason why we are living in poverty and much unspeakable abuse and we always tried to cut ties with them

So my guardians action were highly suspicious. They upped their degrading game beside tutoring us to behave as if we ever did misbehave in our collective lives, keep screaming their voice horst saying that women is "like" family if I like it or not and I better greet her etc etc If I know whats good for me, I kept saying I'm not bothering with her and I'll keep to my room. (I had to do a commission but i don't inform them of that anymore) The women kept canceling nd just rescheduling her visit, which made me dislike her already.

She visited at last, I had done another act of silence rebellion planned, last min i wore my overalls to meet her instead of the usual robes nd head cover. Guardians didn't notice, and I had to kiss her cheeks cuz she did mine, total body shudders and disregard to idk--- distancing?? They asked me to kiss her head, I didn't, but sibs did, and i gave them a look. I tried not to smile at the women like the people pleaser I am but I couldn't shut off my auto driver, it was my sib's turn to give me back the look, hehe. Anyway she looked at my siblings and I and said brides. Strick 200.

Anyway she left, guardians lying to her that we loved the groud she walks on and wish her back and etc. I finally found out why guardians wanted to meet her so bad, i can't even bring myself to say it, it did explain my twisted gut feeling all this time tho

I was in a trance, couldn't not talk or think, I don't remember when I slept or when I ate or what I did. I was living outside of my body, like a sim character, watching myself on speed 2 doing daily pointless things nd just motionless in my place but for drawing. It felt like yeah this is it, I truly can't everything and anything anymore, despair at a point of not knowing a return..

But then, like a cheesy movie scene, on tv I heard the news; women (and AFAB) now can live in homes, alone. Without "guardians", fully independent, and if they don't want to return to their previous home they r not forced back, like some property, and if they are jailed or any reason, they don't need guardians allowance to get out when it's time. No more reporting women if the guardians ( them being any blood relationship or in marriage- father husband, uncle brother son mother aunt) just suddenly decided that they don't want them leaving home anymore or tried to control their existence in any way on a whim, or have them neglecte her and don't do anything she needs desperately out of them.

What this means to me, it frees me legally from my extreme guardians + any and all distance abusive molesting blood relation that I fear linked to. Its like I'm finally free and independent by law... in theory...

Sudden devious calmness washed over me, and all what they did evaporated for a while. I found myself tearing up the chart of my previous goofy body shaming practice schedule and made a new one

I was googling apartments in the near city, I see they have furnished apartments for 300$ a month, wondered the cost of those ubers- mock ups here. I looked up camouflage shoulder abaya, cuz I adore that pattern heh

I thought to look for close airports too, shame that I have to get the vaccine to do that, (we aren't close to much hospitals to get any-- rural living). I have this lovely lady barber's insta in the capital I'd love to go to for those crisp cuts~

I drew and drew and drew, the captain helping tintin to his feet, trying to make it look animated while it's an art process when speeding and I was beyond proud of myself that it actually worked, and I was disgustingly happy with it to I point I didn't want to show it like a small weezy gremlin dragging it back to its hole, never felt that way before and it was strangely delicish.

The rest I left on me ko-fi

While listening to this on repeat

It's wonderfully easing to talk like this, to muse over these things knowing they are possible now. Even if I'm not ready or willing to do irrational actions, and havingmy siblings always on my mind. Things will get better with or without my guardians, as opposed to before being only possible to get better with them, I can wait more...

I have hope now.. I have something to live for and can find a way to do more, somehow

Bless your days with fortune my dears, your words and prayers are everything to me🍀🙏

13.6.2021, 10 pm, sweet dreams

[everlarkficexchange]

Not today

Written by: @emilia206

Prompt 4: Trope: Jealousy Katniss. Modern AU Katniss Everdeen sees his ex boyfriend as the date of one of her coworkers in the company party. She shouldn’t care, because she broke with him, one year ago and still…. when their song plays, against her better judgements, she finds herself dancing with him. [submitted by @alwayseverlark] 

Rating: Mature

Word count: 8062

British lingo you might be unaware of:

A-Level’s - Last form of examination before students go off to university. 

Ladbrokes - betting shop

Tesco - food store

(If I left anything out, let me know)

A/N: Thank you to my wonderful beta @melting-starlight, on ao3 she’s Starlight_Wren.

Forlorn, she stares down at her lager, it’s the first moment of quiet she’s had since she entered the pub. Plutarch had been the first to drag her away, talking about everything from what his lunch was like to how much the station was missing her shows. She had only been able to nod and smile, making agreeable noises at the appropriate times, but otherwise letting all of his words wash over her. Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, Plutarch had bustled off through the crowd to go talk to another unsuspecting colleague. She had tried to crane her neck over the other patrons’ head, to see if she could spot either Johanna or Annie, the only reason she had relented and come to this thing. But before she could make any discernible recognition, Fulvia, Plutarch’s right hand woman, had sidled up behind her, saying that they simply must ‘catch up’. Ever straight to the point though, she had skipped pleasantries and gone right to the heart of the matter. What had she been doing this past year? 

The answer was a pretty simple one, but for some reason that escaped Katniss, it needed lots of explanation. She had spent close to forty-five minutes getting her brain picked apart. Trying, to no avail, to explain to the silly woman the exact reason she had uprooted her and left everything behind to travel all over the globe. Meeting new people, not many, but some. Enough people, Katniss thought. At first, there hadn’t really been a point in it, other than she had to get away from the shit show that was her life. Five years she’d worked at that stupid radio station, blathering on about meaningless things that made her mind fog up with the mundanity of it all. And all she had gotten out of it was a small damp flat in the north of London, with expensive bills and an insufferable landlord. Five years of only seeing her little sister once, twice if she was lucky, a year. Five years of shattered dreams and a dead end job. And still, this woman could not understand why she would want to leave. Of course Katniss never said any of this to Fulvia, but it had been swimming around her head throughout the entirety of the conversation. Instead, she had given watered down reasons and held her tongue as Fulvia had gone on to say, “But what about that boyfriend of yours? I remember him being so supportive…” 

She didn’t want to get into that, how she had left him behind. It had been a year and the wound that it had inflicted still ran too deep, was too painful to get into. Especially with nosy, judgy Fulvia. So, she had politely excused herself from the conversation, taking to the bar and ordering herself an overpriced pint. Fantastic. It wasn’t like she was strapped for cash or anything. 

Having given up on searching for Annie and Johanna at this nightmarish reunion, she had found herself a quiet corner in the buzzing room, sitting on a lumpy sofa and setting her drink down on an aged wooden table that had ring marks on the surface from drinks overspilling. It wasn’t often that she thought about Peeta, having long since trained her mind to immediately turn and run in the other direction if any thoughts began leading her down that painful path. But now, with Fulvia bringing him up, and being surrounded by people who had all been privy to their relationship, it was only inevitable that she should think of him. Specifically, the last time she had seen him.

 —————————–

His face had closed off, completely shuttering all emotions that would otherwise flick across his face. And still, as he stood, staring blankly at her, she continued talking. Trying to explain herself, explain why she just had to leave.

“Please Peeta, believe me when I say it isn’t you,” she whispered, “I just feel so trapped in my own life, and I feel as if I don’t leave now, I never will get anywhere.”

“What about us?” he replied, tone blank and neutral, but still betraying the underlying anger and confusion.

She shook her head sadly, tears falling unbidden from her eyes. Desperately wanting him to hold her and tell her it would be alright, but needing him to stay well away from her so that she could do this. Finish this, clean and precise as Johanna had told her to do it. 

“Right,” Peeta said, voice hollow.

They stood there, silence engulfing the little flat. It was never silent in there, the generators downstairs always humming, her boiler constantly gurgling away, but it seemed even these held their breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“I think you should leave now,” Katniss said to her feet, not daring to look up at his face. 

She stood in her kitchen, stock still, as if any movement from her would cause her to break and shatter on the linoleum tiles of the floor. She listened as Peeta collected his toothbrush and spare clothes. Katniss flinched at the sense of finality she felt when the door banged shut.

 ————————-

Their break-up had been anything but clean and precise, and it wasn’t a wonder considering that Katniss had been at the helm of it. It was ironic, really, that for five years, her income had depended on her being able to talk for hours about nonsensical things, always upbeat and on the ball for the listeners chiming in, but when it came to her own boyfriend, she hadn’t been able to get the words out right. She had made him think that it was him that was suffocating her, when in actuality it was everything. She was pushing thirty and already she could feel herself stagnating. 

She wished that she could do it again, try not to make such a mess of it as she had done. How could she have known, though, the profound affect it seemed to have had on Peeta? He had always been so supportive of her decisions, only asking that she open up to him and be honest. Of course she hadn’t expected him to be completely OK with her decision, but she had been hoping that he would at least understand her reasoning. Instead, he had been angry and confused, perhaps even rightfully so, before he had completely shut down becoming cold and distant in the moments prior to him slamming out of her little home.

“Penny for your thoughts?” a perky voice said next to her, pulling Katniss out of her reverie. 

Looking up, Katniss couldn’t help but smile at the big brown eyes that were peering down at her. Rue. Her intern from a year ago. She didn’t look much different,  just a little older and worse for wear. But that’s what this job did to you, lured you in with promises of bigger and better ahead, before getting you trapped and very much stuck. 

“You don’t want to know,” Katniss replied, shuffling over and making space for the young woman.

“Oh, and why’s that?” Rue asked, her lips quirked upwards in a smile.

“Neither thinking, nor talking about it will solve a thing,” she mumbled down at her glass before taking a prolonged drink from it. She reveled in the fizz and slightly bitter taste as it washed down her throat. 

“Well, if you’re gonna be all closed off to me, your favourite intern, I’ll let you in on all of my issues to date,” Rue said, taking a sip from her own glass.

Katniss smirked. It was true that Rue was her favourite intern, but that wasn’t exactly a feat. Most interns that Katniss had been given the responsibility of taking care of had been so awful that they were fired within their first two weeks of working at the station. 

“So, remember how you warned me before you left, that this job ‘will suck me dry of all inspiration and motivation’ whilst also ‘dashing my dreams and love for the craft’ but not before ‘restricting what me on what I can talk about, and instead giving me stupid shows that will make me want to die’?” Rue paused, taking a drink from her pint.

“Yes, I do recall telling you all of those things, I assume you’ve come to the conclusion that I was correct and that you should have saved yourself while you could,” Katniss said, trying not to gloat at the fact that she was at least right about something, and it wasn’t just her overreacting and being dramatic.

 Rue nodded her head vigorously, her corkscrew curls bouncing, “Well, I’ll be honest. At the time, I thought you were just being dramatic, or maybe you were bitter about something, but you really were so right. I can’t get anyone to take me seriously or invest in any bigger show ideas, or get them to take on or promote more obscure artists. The sponsors continuously overlook me so that they can pour more money into presenters who have a body to boot. Even though that shouldn’t matter, ‘cause we’re on a fucking radio, nobody is looking at the face or body behind the voice anyway!”

 “And as soon as I try to get Plutarch or Fulvia to give me a recommendation so that I can move to something a little more low key and less industrious, they tell me that I shouldn’t leave, that I have so much potential, and that it would be such a waste for me to go do something less mainstream, because how will I ever be recognised then?” Rue finished with a defeated groan, flopping back against the leather cushions. 

Looking up at the ceiling, Rue asked, “How’d you get out? I mean for me, it’s just an endless cycle of early mornings, playing music that makes my ears bleed, and frustration that after all my hard work, I’ve just become another peppy girl on the radio.”

Katniss snorted at this, “Depressing, isn’t it? After all the analysing of different styles of music and poetry, it amounted to this.”

“Fuucckk,” Rue groaned at the ceiling fans, “It’s depressing because it’s so painfully true. Do you know how many hours I spent holed up in my room studying for my Music and English A-Levels just so I could at least get a seven, and now I’m stuck here.”

Katniss nodded her head, “Only ‘cause I did the same thing though. What were we thinking?”

“Ugh, I know! My mum told me that this was an ‘unsustainable career path’. I hate to say it, but I think she may have had a point.”

A crash came from the other side of the room, effectively interrupting their mutual venting session, a clattering of glasses fell to the floor and shattered, causing both Katniss and Rue to jump before turning around to see what happened. A flustered waiter apologised profusely to a skimpy blonde who looked upon him with narrowed green eyes, and a stain that looked an awful lot like red wine spilled on her yellow dress. The few people who had been applauding the waiters slip up began to slow their claps when they realised that the unfortunate woman who now had a stain across the front of her dress, was not taking it on the chin as it were. In fact, she looked like she was a few seconds from throwing a fit.

“Oof, would not want to be that guy,” Rue remarked, “Glimmer looks about ready to go get his ass fired.”

Katniss turned to look at Rue, who was leaning her chin on the back of the sofa, “How’d you know her name?”

Rue made a face, “She’s a presenter at the radio station, she does the show that Annie used to do.” 

“Shit, really,” Katniss said, blowing air through her teeth to make a low whistling sound. “That show was one of the more popular ones.”

“Still is. Rumour has it that the company hired her to replace Annie, who was making noises to leave, so they sent her Glimmer as an intern. Annie left a week later, claiming that the work environment had become insufferable.”

Katniss had turned back to watch as the waiter bent to pick up the broken glass, whilst so-called Glimmer rolled her eyes impatiently at another waiter who was handing her paper towels to try wipe up the mess on her dress. While watching, Katniss listened intently to what Rue was saying, “People weren’t surprised when she quit. Glimmer is quite literally the epitome of a toxic work environment.”

“Oh well, this just makes me all the more glad that I left,” Katniss said. Annie had emailed her when she’d quit, but hadn’t given a reason why. At the time, Katniss had just assumed it was because both Johanna and herself had already left, but this must have been the breaking point for her. 

“Oh, she’s not even the worst of it,” Rue said, a cynical smile touching her lips as they watched another woman with jet black hair and pinched features walk up to Glimmer, she took the paper towels from the waitress and threw them down to the floor, yelling something unintelligible, “That’s Clove. As you can see, she’s got quite a temper on her. She’s the one who replaced Johanna as DJ. The two of them together are quite… formidable.”

Katniss turned in her seat to grab her drink from the table so she could drink and watch this scene unfold in front of her. She would be lying if she said that it wasn’t just a teeny bit entertaining. Taking a sip from her mellowing beer, she almost choked when she saw who was joining the show. Blond ashen curls, broad shoulders, and a slight limp from a rugby injury that had never quite healed. It was Peeta. Her Peeta, consoling this shallow, pitiful, blonde bimbo. 

She could feel Rue’s eyes on her, watching for a reaction. Katniss swallowed painfully, oblivious to the taste, eyes glued to what was happening in front of her very eyes. Maybe it wasn’t him. It couldn’t possibly be him. There was no way, absolutely no fucking way, that the Peeta Mellark that she had known all throughout secondary school, was even remotely affiliated with such a cow. Deep down, Katniss knew that she was possibly being a little harsh, but jealousy, lots of it, was rearing its ugly green head, skewing her opinions.

“Yeah, and then there’s that,” Rue uttered, “reason number fuck knows what as to why I ‘strongly dislike’ Glimmer.”

Katniss breathed deeply, shoving down the irrational, possessive anger that was overcoming her. She cleared her throat, which had become exceptionally tight in the last two minutes, “Are they… an item?”

“I wouldn’t say so,” Rue said, turning around to face the other way again, “as far as I know, they’re just fuck buddies. Who knows, though, maybe he does the wine and dining as well.”

Katniss, following suit, also turned around, sitting stoically, and taking slow sips from her sweating drink. “So he’s fucking her.”

Rue nodded, sighing a little as she did so, “I know it might not be my place to comment-”

“It probably isn’t then,” Katniss interrupted, wanting very much to go back to her hotel room now.

  “But,” Rue continued, “you were really fucking dense to let that man walk away from you. I have no idea what happened between the two of you, but even I can appreciate that ass, and oh my god those shoulders,” she pretended to fan herself, before turning incredulous, “and he’s not even my type.”

Katniss snorted at this, turning around for a quick second, to survey the specimen that was now patting down an incensed Glimmer. She couldn’t deny that he still looked sexy as fuck. He definitely seemed to have fared this year a little better than her. Turning back around, she looked down at what she was wearing. A simple dress that she’d bought from a charity shop when she was sixteen, it was light blue and the material was soft and light, perfect for the humid weather that London summers were, but it did look as if it might be on its last legs. Her hair was loose for once, and hung in ebony waves down her back, but otherwise she hadn’t made much of an effort, as could be seen by her scruffy trainers and mismatched socks. She didn’t need to impress these people anyway. 

“Yeah, stupid indeed,” Katniss muttered. 

They sat there then, silence washing over them, until the unmistakable sound of a speaker system being plugged in echoed throughout the crowded room. Katniss looked up to see her friend climbing up onto the bar, a little wobbly on her feet, but her voice was commanding no less.

“Alrighty, I’ve been asked to do a little set tonight, but because I forgot to set up a good playlist that will please all of you old folk, I’ll be taking requests,” she made to get off the bar, but paused mid-step hollering across the room, “And if I think your song request is shit I won’t play it, feel free to take it personally.”

Katniss didn’t really care much for the offer to request music, she was just relieved to know that Johanna had, in fact, shown up. She had been wondering whether either of her ex-work-colleagues had actually bothered. Knowing that Johanna was here, though where she’d been all night was something Katniss would like to know, meant that Annie was probably here as well. 

Rue, on the other hand, immediately got up. Kissing Katniss on the cheek, she proclaimed, “Oh, I have a song that Jo simply must play.” 

She walked off into the crowd, but abruptly turned back, looking down at Katniss, who was still cocooned in the soft leather of the sofa, “Also, if you get any interesting job offers don’t be scared to recommend me,” with a wink, she waltzed off again.

Alone once again, and trying desperately to distract herself from the ‘pat down’ Peeta was assuredly still giving Glimmer, Katniss gulped down the rest of her pint, before standing to go get another. 

Waiting at the bar for the barmaid to get to her drink, she tapped out a rhythm on the polished wood. Distracted, she almost didn’t notice the familiar opening chords to a song she hadn’t let herself listen to in a year. 

Johanna’s voice sounded over the speaker system, “For all you lovesick idiots here tonight, Don’t Stop Believin’ by Journey.”

Katniss’ breath stilled in her chest, this must have been some sick joke the universe was playing on her. Despite herself, Katniss searched the room for the familiar face that she had once danced to this with at prom. Scanning the crowd, her eyes finally landed on a seemingly just as stunned Peeta Mellark, his face so pale and pinched he looked like he was about to throw up. He, too, looked to be scanning the crowd. He couldn’t know that she was here, could he? She knew  that she should probably shrink back into the shadows, or, better yet, vacate the premises and head back to her hotel room, to avoid any unnecessary drama that she most certainly did not need. Yet, against her better judgement, she stood her ground, not actively looking to be seen, but not hiding from sight either. 

Her eyes stayed on him, noticing with a missed beat of her heart that Glimmer and Clove were both conspicuously absent. The song had already passed the first verse when Peeta’s eyes finally locked on hers. His eyes widened in surprise, but beneath it was still the same warmth and affection that had always been. Her sharp intake of breath told her all she needed to know, those baby blues could still make her knees weak, could still make her feel like she was adrift and untethered in a desolate ocean, with him being the only tether to reality. Their gazes locked on one another as the second verse began;

A singer in a smoky room

The smell of wine and cheap perfume

Peeta’s eyes stared holes into her, and for a moment it was as if no time had passed, as if he was standing on the other side of the school’s assembly hall as an entire year group of nervous sweaty eighteen year olds danced the evening away to overplayed 80’s tracks. Katniss was even greeted with the familiar erratic beating of her heart, wishing and hoping that he’d just bottle up the nerve and ask her already!

That night, she had been the one to walk across the dance floor to ask him to dance, but tonight, it seemed it would be Peeta who would take the first tentative steps towards her.

For a smile they can share the night

It goes on and on, and on, and on

 Drink forgotten, Katniss stepped away from the bar, walking towards the people already congregating to dance on a small open space on the floor. The first chorus sounded through the room;

Strangers, waitin’

Up and down the boulevard

Their shadows

Searchin’ in the night

Streetlights, people

Livin’ just to find emotion

Hidin’ somewhere in the night

They met in the middle, and Katniss looked up at him through her lashes. 

“For old times sake,” Peeta murmured down to her, offering his hand.

She tried not to let his remark sting, that their relationship is in fact in the past. That he had moved on from her, that she should too. But falling into his arms, head resting over his breast bone listening to his heart thumping away, letting him sway them to the music, felt so natural and familiar. The tears stung behind her eyes, and she bit her lip to stop herself from sobbing out loud. She didn’t want to be sad, to mar this song with her regrets, when it was accompanied by so many good and happy memories. Of the two of them messing around in his kitchen, or her bedroom. 

So, she swallowed down her tears, and let herself fall back in time to when things were simpler. Letting the music and words wash over her, rejuvenating her weary soul.

Workin’ hard to get my fill

Everybody wants a thrill

Payin’ anything to roll the dice

Just one more time

Some will win

Some will lose

Some were born to sing the blues

Oh, the movie never ends

It goes on and on, and on, and on

She laughed when he spun her, then recaptured her in his arms. He swooped low, before lifting them back up and spinning them in slow circles. 

Strangers waitin’

Up and down the boulevard

Their shadows

Searchin’ in the night

Streetlights, people

Livin’ just to find emotion

Hidin’ somewhere in the night

She took the lead, moving them faster, along to the tune of the song. Pulling away from his embrace, but holding on to his hands, as she spun herself to lean her back against his chest with his arms crossed protectively over her.

Don’t stop believin’

Hold on to that feelin’

Streetlight, people

Don’t stop, believin’

Hold on

Streetlights, people

As the song began to slow again, and Steve Perry ad-libbed his way through the end of the song, Peeta turned her again so that they were pressed chest to chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and their steps became so minuscule they could do it on a pie plate if they wished to do so. She stared up into his bottomless blue eyes, a genuine smile lighting up her face for the first time this evening. 

“I missed you,” he whispered.

Her smile faltered slightly, and she looked down, ashamed at how easily she had let herself fall back into his arms. The moment of magic had ended, and she was thrown back into the icy cold reality of her life. For christ’s sake they hadn’t spoken in a year, and now suddenly they were dancing and laughing on the dance floor!

Don’t stop believin’

Hold on to that feelin’

Streetlight, people 

He turned them one last time. He leant his cheek on the top of her head, sighing quietly as if knowing about the beratement Katniss was giving herself in her head. He swayed them as the song faded out. She pulled away, chancing a glance up at his face. The pain she had inflicted onto him shone through his eyes, and though it killed her to do it, she could only pull further out of his arms, backing away. He watched after her, arms limp at his sides, and she turned, pushing through the crowd.

“Oi, watch it!” Someone called after her as she shoved past people. 

Finally, after stepping on numerous toes and elbowing a few people in the sides, she made it over to the makeshift DJ table. Johanna was leaning against it, chewing on a toothpick as she announced in a lazy drawl the next song. Behind her shoulder she could see Annie leaning heavily into some guy with bronzed curls and tanned skin, Katniss thought that she had seen him before in a couple of Annie’s instagram posts. 

“Ahhh, Brainless,” Johanna called out when she spotted a breathless Katniss standing before the table, “here to make a song request? Maybe another one that you can dance to with lover boy.”

“What the fuck, Jo?” Katniss cried out, “Did you put that song on just to mess with my head? ‘Cause it sure as hell worked.” Katniss ran her shaking hands through her hair, not caring if she messed it up, or if it got tangled. 

Johanna raised her eyebrows in surprise, “Wait, you don’t actually believe I put that song on, do you?”

“Well, who else, Johanna?!” 

“I didn’t even know you were here up until five minutes ago, let alone him!” Johanna spat out, incredulity lacing her voice, “And besides, I’m only taking requests this evening. I did let everyone know,” she sniffed, rolling her eyes.

“Ok fine, if it wasn’t you, then who?” Katniss hissed, “Because I will start throwing arms if I have to, Jo.”

“Jeez, don’t get your knickers all in a twist, it was only a little dancey,” Johanna teased. Looking at Katniss’ bemused face, she relented, “If you promise to not beat the living lights out of her, I’ll tell.”

“‘Kay fine, I promise,” Katniss said, her anger subsiding a little. Whoever it was, it wasn’t their fault that she couldn’t just leave when she definitely should have, “Just tell me who.”

Johanna nodded her head in the direction of the bar, Katniss followed her gaze, eyes greeted with an apologetic looking Rue. Rue grimaced a little, apparently having watched Katniss’ outburst. At least she looked sorry, Katniss thought. 

Her anger having dissipated, the feeling of regret and sadness settled cold and heavy in her stomach. She deflated against the table, feeling very tired all of a sudden, “I need a smoke,” she muttered, “Lighter,” she held out her hand.

Johanna grumbled under her breath, fishing through her pockets for a lighter. “Give it back after,” she warned, slapping it into Katniss’ outstretched palm.

Katniss weaved her way through the crowds once more, being a little more careful to not piss off so many people this time, until she got to the coat rack next to the door. The coat rack itself was leaning over under the weight of all the coats draped over the top of it. After some digging around, Katniss found her light jean jacket and pulled it out from underneath the mountain of others piled up on top of it. Pulling it on, she pushed open the door to the pub and stepped out into the night. 

It looked like the sun had just gone down, streaks of orange fading into the sky as dusk settled over the stinking, sweltering city. It had cooled off quite a bit from earlier, and Katniss huddled herself further into her jacket, trying to leech off any residual warmth from it. She walked down the shallow stone steps,  found herself a place to light her cigarette. Leaning against the cold brick wall behind her, not caring if she got her coat or dress dirty. She fished a loose cigarette out of her coat pocket, and lit the fag, taking a long drag from it, breathing it back out into the cooling air.

“Those things kill, you know,” A voice sounded from behind her. She scowled at how it made her heart leap hopefully in her chest. 

“I know,” she almost growled, wanting him to fuck off back to Glimmer already. She couldn’t deal with having him thrust back into her life, pretending like nothing happened between them. Like she hadn’t irreparably fucked up their entire relationship, just because she felt ‘claustrophobic’.

“I thought you were quitting?” Peeta asked, walking to stand next to her and pulling out his own cigarette. 

She passed him Johanna’s lighter, “You can’t talk,” she snorted as she watched him light his, “And anyway, I am. I just keep emergency ones in all of my coats, and in a few of my trousers.”

Peeta laughed at this, “Yeah, sure does sound like you’re quitting.”

“Hey,” she protested, “I never keep a lighter on me, that way I have to ask someone, and then they’re also accountable for my inevitable lung cancer.”

Peeta’s eyebrows rose at this, and he took a puff from his own cancer stick, “Oh yeah, and how long did it take you do that mental gymnastics.”

Katniss only rolled her eyes, and they both stood next to each other staring out at the street. They watched as a bus pulled up at the stop, and an old man stumbled out, hobbling into the Ladbrokes opposite. A siren blared somewhere in the distance. Two extremely drunk men sat on the steps a good ten metres away from them, but were loud enough for their slurred words to reach the two.

“Listen Katniss, about before,” Peeta started, breaking their comfortable silence, “I didn’t mean to make you feel crowded or guilty, or anything like that.” He looked to her, but she stared resolutely ahead, taking slow small puffs from her cigarette.

“It’s fine,” she finally said, “forget about it. I probably shouldn’t have even danced with you in the first place, what with you being with Glimmer and all.”

“Ah, shit,” Peeta breathed out, “I didn’t think you knew about that.”

“Yeah well, I do,” Katniss snapped. 

Peeta looked as if he wanted to say something, but Katniss cut him off before he could, “I really don’t want to know.”

Peeta nodded his head. They were quiet for a moment.

“I mean, it’s not like you’re not allowed anyway,” Katniss said, scuffing the toe of her already scruffy trainer against the cracked pavement.

Peeta huffed out a bemused, short-lived laugh, “Care to explain that, whilst we’re out here talking civilly?”

“What?” Katniss asked, “Are you asking why I broke up with you?”

Peeta nodded his head once more.

Katniss sighed, “I feel like I’ve told myself and everyone around me the same explanation about a million times, but standing here it doesn’t feel like enough.”

“Well, that’s convenient,” Peeta whispered.

Katniss sighed, trying not to sound too exasperated. What’s it to him anyway, she thought. “Look Peeta, I told you before, and I’ll say it again. It wasn’t you.”

“Doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop asking myself if I did something,” Peeta said.

Katniss finally turned to look up at him, as he stared up at the darkening sky, searching it for the few visible stars, “We’re not even thirty yet, Peeta, I’m not ready to settle. I wasn’t last year, and I definitely am not this year. And I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if you told me you weren’t ready yet either, and you’re allowed to be with whoever you want, even if it is someone as silly and shallow as Glimmer. I guess it’s better to get your mid-life crisis out the way now,” she said with a smirk, before sobering and adding quietly, “I’m not completely oblivious Peeta, it’s not like I don’t see her appeal.”

Peeta looked down at her, opening his mouth, she was sure, to deny that Glimmer’s big boobs were the reason. She held up her hand to stop him, “Who knows though, maybe someone’ll convince me to come to this thing again next year, and I’ll see you again. Hopefully with someone other than Glimmer. And just like this year, I’ll steal you for a dance, and then lure you outside for a smoke, and we’ll catch up,” she paused for dramatic affect, stealing herself for what she was going to say next, “After that, you’ll kiss me, right up against the cold brick wall,” she watched as Peeta’s eyes widened at her bold statement.

  Maybe it was her pint of beer that had made her so free and uncaring with her sentiments. Though Katniss would never describe herself as a lightweight, she admitted to herself that it had been a good six weeks since she’d had a proper drink. On second thought, she remembered the last time she drank before tonight being a little over a week ago, and it had been a cider. She grimaced at the thought. Fuck, she mused, when did I become a lightweight? Peeta cleared his throat uncomfortably, prompting her to continue, but unsure of whether she was finished or not. Katniss mentally shook herself before finishing in a low, sultry voice, “Just like you’re going to do this year.”

 “Fuck,” Peeta breathed out, and Katniss watched him visibly struggle to swallow. She tried, and failed, to suppress her smug little smirk, that she could still affect him like this. It eased the green beast within her, the one that had wanted to stamp her foot and cry out earlier when she had witnessed Peeta wiping down the front of Glimmer’s dress. She shook her head. She didn’t want to think of Glimmer, Peeta was out here with her now, that must count for something, right?

“Are you, umm - being serious?” Peeta stuttered, and despite herself Katniss grinned at how flustered he was getting, the pink staining his cheeks betraying how agitated he really was, “Or are you just pulling my leg?”

Katniss took a long drag from her fag, sucking on it until it was down to the stub, “Do I look like I’m joking, Mellark?” 

She watched as his pupils dilated even more in the darkening night, until the blue of his irises were only thin rings around the black pits of his desire. She reveled in being able to do this to him still, after all this time. It comforted her, in a weird, possessive, unhealthy sort of way.

 “No,” he whispered, voice hoarse and barely audible. He dropped his cigarette on the floor, not even bothering to stamp it out before stepping forwards. Large hands came to a rest on her waist, pushing her further back against the wall. She bit back a slight moan at the way he seemed to shelter her, the stark contrast of the cold wall behind her, nipping at the backs of her legs, and the heat that enmantend from his body and radiated onto her. She took a deep shuddering breath, pushing her chest upwards against his. Her hand shook slightly as she stubbed out the remnants of her cigarette against the wall next to her, before letting it fall to the ground as well. 

Their faces were so close now, their mouths only a hair’s breadth apart, all it would take is for one of them to lean in, to close the tantalisingly small space between them. “Tell me you want me to,” Peeta uttered, breath fanning her face. She bit her lip, a sly grin gracing her features.

She leant up on her tiptoes, tracing a path to his ear lobe with her breath, “Peeta Mellark, I want you to kiss me up against this brick wall, until I’m breathless and my knees are weak.” 

 He groaned loudly, and she was about to tell him to be quiet when his lips descended greedily on hers. Knocking the breath right out of her, as he sucked and bit tenderly against first her top and then her bottom lip. She whimpered, admitting to herself that she had missed the way it felt to be kissed by someone who cared. Who didn’t just do it as a way to get into her underwear. 

It was his turn to smile smugly, he pulled away from her, and she chased his lips with her own. Wanting them back, wanting him to plunge and plunder. She huffed out a frustrated growl when he moved even further away. She opened her eyes, taking in his face that grinned with feigned innocence down at her, “What’s the matter Everdeen?” He asked teasingly, “Knees not weak enough yet?”

She glared at him, he knew exactly what he was doing, and she wasn’t having any of it, not tonight. Lifting her hands to his hair, she played with the blond locks, smiling up at him demurely. She would tell him what she wanted step by step if necessary, but she didn’t think it would be. Cocking her head to the side, she mirrored his look of feigned innocence, before tangling her fingers into the shorter hairs at the back of his head, and pulling his lips back down to hers. He grunted against her, and she opened her mouth ever so slightly in invitation. 

It took her all of two seconds to lose all inhibitions, Peeta’s hands moved up from their resting spot on her waist, one cradling the back of her neck and one stroking up and down her back in a motion that made Katniss giddy with desire. Their tongues met in a dance, reacquainting themselves. Peeta’s dove into her mouth, rediscovering everything he already knew about her. 

Peeta placed his leg in between her own, which had opened a little of their own accord, bringing it upwards slightly, daring her to grind up against it. Stubborn as ever, though, Katniss refused to take the bait. Knowing him, he would probably tease her, pull away before she could really get going. But when he tugged on her bottom lip with his teeth, she relented. She could feel her knees turning into jelly, forcing her to slump down onto his leg. She ground down on it experimentally, the rough material of his jeans rubbing up against her boy shorts. Katniss swore into his mouth, and did it again, letting the motion stimulate her throbbing center. She was almost glad that he couldn’t feel the intensity of the heat that seemed to be pouring from her core, but another part of her needed him to know that he could still do this to her. Could still drive her to do halfway insane things, like letting him ravage her up against a wall with all of her ex colleagues a mere few metres away. Pulling his head down further, she held him there, desperate to drink more of him in. 

“Katniss,” he whispered against her mouth, before diving right back in. 

It was her turn to grunt at the power in which he started almost devouring her mouth, she could only cling to the locks of hair wrapped around her fingers, in hopes that she wouldn’t just crumple to the floor. She was rocking against his leg in a steady rhythm, each stroke of his rough denim trousers against her center making her more frantic, desperate for more. Her nerve endings felt frayed, threatening to short circuit and send her spiralling through the abyss. Peeta continued to busy himself with her mouth, pulling away before delving back in, more thorough and rough each time, so that she could only whimper helplessly into his mouth.

It was when the hand that had been stroking leisurely circles into her spine crept towards her front before meandering downwards, that Katniss came somewhat to her senses. She stopped his hand with one of her own, before it could get to the hemline of the skirt to her dress. She pulled away from his lips that had been stroking soft sublime on hers, and looked at him. Eyes blown wide, lips swollen and red from kissing, blond hair tousled and mussed from all her incessant tugging. She was sure she was mirroring this disheveled appearance back at him. He lowered his leg from where it had stayed resting against her, but his hand stayed trapped between their two bodies. If it weren’t so painfully obvious how much they had missed each other, it would be comical how fast and hard they’d fallen back into heated touches and frantic kisses. 

She took a deep breath, wondering if she should apologise, or at least explain, but her brain was still fogged with arousal, and she was finding it very hard to look him in the eye. Instead, she got back on to her tip toes and brought her arms up around his neck, pulling him close to her for a hug. She rested her head against his shoulder, and he slowly brought his arms around her waist, holding her to him as well.

“One day, Peeta,” she began, talking into his neck, “one day…”

“But not today,” he finished for her.

She nodded and squeezed him tighter, a hundred memories of them together flooding her mind, and for the second time this evening she had to fight back the urge to sob. She could only be relieved that he had understood, understood why she couldn’t let him do that, not now, and certainly not here. 

He squeezed her back, and she swore she felt him inhaling her smell, at any other time this would have turned her on beyond reason, but now it only saddened her. How had she managed to fuck it up again? He pressed a quick kiss into the juncture of where her neck met her shoulder, before releasing her from his grasp. 

She wobbled, still a little unsteady on her feet, but managed to start walking in the direction of her bus stop. As she walked past the two drunk men that were still sitting on the stone steps to the pub, she heard one of them call out to her.

“Is the show over, sweetheart?” he asked, sarcasm along with whatever he’d had to drink lacing his voice, “That’s a shame, me an’ Chaff here were really startin’ to ge’ into it.” 

Katniss turned to look at the man who had said it, scathing reply waiting at the tip of her tongue, but before she could say anything, the other man, Chaff she assumed, slurred out;

“Won’t you give an ol’ man a kiss before you go?” The two men guffawed as he made kissy faces at her.

“Arseholes,” Katniss muttered under her breath.

The man with salt and pepper hair down to his shoulders called after her again, though all traces of amusement were gone from his voice. He sounded surprisingly sober when he told her, “I see the way you have him wrapped around your finger, sweetheart, you could live a hundred lifetimes and still not deserve what he gave you tonight,” he burped loudly and continued, “One day he’ll realise that, he’ll realise that he’s better than tha’, be’er than you.” 

 Katniss tried to ignore his words as she waited at the traffic light for the little green man to pop up so she could cross the road, but they still made her blood run cold, because maybe he was right. She turned her head to the side, waiting impatiently for the cars to come to a slow at the T-junction, when the old man, who had since left the betting shop, added his own snarky comment to the fray. If she had known how many people were watching them, she wouldn’t have let it get that far, or go on for so long.

“When do you think he’ll notice the exact degree of your indifference?” He asked in a voice that was weathered and old, but still demanded her attention. He had posed his comment as a question, but he said it as if he already knew the answer. She wasn’t indifferent, she thought, but doubt coursed through her. Hadn’t she just used him to prove a point? A stupid petty point, that she was better than Glimmer. She shook her head at the notion, it had just been a drunken mistake, nothing more.

She turned her head to face the decrepit old man, biting out a response, “Those are some awfully big words for a filthy old beggar, let’s hope you don’t choke on ‘em.” 

The old man threw his head back and laughed, his cracked voice making it sound more like a cackle than anything. To her surprise the man actually did start choking, on his own blood. He bent forwards, crouching low as he spat blood to the floor. 

“Gross,” Katniss muttered, before hurrying across the road. To hell with the traffic, she thought, she just needed to get the fuck out of here.

 The shame and regret were already starting to curl themselves around her, and she felt almost sick with it. She was once again being reminded of how easily being around Peeta could fuck with her head, how it could make her do things that she otherwise wouldn’t do. That she’d sworn to herself wouldn’t happen again. Because, yes, her drink might have had something to do with it, but it was also him, he was intoxicating. The moment she had noticed he was in the room, she had wanted him, needed him. And it might be true that she could make him feel the same way, but people never seemed to see that he was just as good at it as she was. He was always the sweet golden boy, who had had the misfortune of falling in love with the likes of her.

She looked across the street when she arrived at the bus stop. The pub was pouring light from it’s windows and she heard the music playing. Peeta had already disappeared, and Katniss wondered how much he had heard. She hoped none of it. The old man was shuffling into the Tesco next door to the Ladbrokes, and the two men were still sat outside the pub, drinking from flasks. She looked up at the timetable that the bus stop provided, and cursed under her breath when she saw that her bus wouldn’t be arriving for another seven minutes. 

She was about to start walking down the highstreet, so that she wouldn’t have to stand, waiting like a sitting duck, when her phone vibrated in her coat pocket with an incoming message. 

Pulling it out of the pocket, she read what it said.

Johanna Mason [Sent 10:21pm]: Where are you? I’m hungry and bored, wanna get smth to eat?

Katniss considered ignoring the message, but her stomach rumbled in response to the thought of food.

Katniss Everdeen [Sent 10:22pm]: At the bus stop across the road. Don’t you have a set? 

Johanna Mason [Sent 10:22pm]: Ofc you are. Yh I do, but any moron can do this. These song requests are driving me insane tho, so… food?

Katniss Everdeen [Sent 10:23pm]: Yh alright, what tho?

Johanna Mason [Sent 10:24pm]: I could really go for a kebab… and a smoke. We’re leaving now.

Katniss looked up from her phone. Shit. Johanna’s lighter. Peeta still had it. She watched as Johanna banged open the doors to the pub. Trailing after her was a wobbly Annie and the man from earlier. Katniss looked around her, hoping one of the many corner shops littering the street were still open, but they were all depressingly closed. Katniss glared at the closed signs on all the shop doors as if their existence offended her eyes, because in that moment, they really did.

She’d get that lighter back - she turned and saw the group crossing the road - though, maybe not today.

[jemmahazelnut]

A roommate obsessed with tidiness

Summary: Laxus is looking for an apartment and finds the ideal place with the ideal roommate (as well as the boyfriend of his dreams). Too bad he's engaged. [Freed/Laxus]

Links: AO3 - Fanfiction

I tried to write something a little longer about these two lovely guys. Hope you like it :) As always, sorry for my English, I try to do my best.

P.S. There are references to sex, but nothing explicit.

A roommate obsessed with tidiness

-1-

It had been Bickslow who had told him that a friend of his was looking for a roommate to cover the bills, and since Laxus really needed an apartment, he had agreed. He had struggled enough to find a place to stay, a little for bad luck and a little for his character. The first time he had fought heavily with his roommates, so after a while he was gone. The second apartment he had been in had turned out to be a disaster: the lift didn’t work, the boiler had continuous problems and the washing machine was broken. It was actually his fault, such a low price should have alerted him.

So, he hoped that at least that third try would go well. From what Bickslow had told him, Freed was a quiet guy, they would get along well and the apartment in the photos didn't look like a mess. Despite this, Laxus was by no means positive, not after his first experiences.

He rang the bell and after a while a short woman with long blond hair came to open the door. If Laxus hadn't known that she was the homeowner, he would have mistaken her for a girl his age, if not younger.

“Hi, you must be Laxus, right?” she asked with a gentle smile. The blond nodded as the woman introduced herself. Her name was Mavis and as she led him into the building, she began chatting quietly asking him what he was doing. Laxus explained that he was a college student, second year of engineering, and was surprised at how easy it was to talk to that woman. She immediately took him to the second floor apartment to show him, and as soon as Laxus entered he was quite relieved. He looked really good, and the fact that he was tidy proved that his roommate had to be a nice guy. Unless he just did it that day.

He entered directly into a small sitting room, with a sofa in the center and a small table in front. On the front wall there was a television and some shelves. The style was modern, simple and clean. Mavis guided him to the various rooms showing him everything there and his bedroom. It was small, but Laxus was just fine. The price seemed adequate and he really liked the apartment. Despite that, he already knew it was all too good to be true, surely something bad was going to happen, and now Laxus really wanted to get to know this roommate and make sure for himself that he wasn't a freak. Although, to tell the truth, he probably would have accepted the same. He didn't really want to look for another apartment.

“The other tenant?” he then asked.

“He should be here in a moment, in the meantime we can discuss the last things” the woman told him. Laxus nodded and followed her into her living room, but just then they heard the house keys turn. “It must be him” Mavis said. In fact, shortly after the door opened and a boy with long green hair entered. Quite a handsome guy, to be honest. Laxus was honest with himself, that, at least physically, would have been his ideal type. He smiled at them and immediately introduced himself.

“Hi Mavis. Hi, I'm Freed” he said, closing the door behind him.

“Laxus” the blond introduced himself immediately. He gave it a quick look. Except for his hair so green it looked straight out of a manga, he looked like a normal guy. He must have just returned from university, because he had a computer on hand and some books in a bag. He set them aside and walked over to them, offering to make coffee for everyone, while Mavis and Laxus sat on the sofa and discussed the latest things. Laxus was more and more convinced that he wanted to accept the position, not that he had much of a choice.

When Freed returned to the living room with three coffee mugs and a small tray of pastries, Laxus almost thought that was too good to be true. He couldn’t believe he had finally found a decent apartment, with practically the boy of his dreams of him sitting on the other side of the sofa. A guy who also seemed kind. There was certainly a deception.

-2-

The deception was obviously there, but it was nothing so serious. After two weeks living under the same roof, Laxus had found out more about his roommate. Meanwhile, that he was engaged, with a bit of disappointment for the blond who, however, immediately pushed the thought out of his mind. Luckily Freed was very discreet, and those few times his boyfriend stopped to sleep didn't make a mess.

Then, he discovered that Freed had a real fixation for cleanliness. Which shouldn't have been a downside, but when he moved Laxus' things the blonde couldn't help but get annoyed. Laxus was not untidy, he just put the keys on the cabinet in the hall, and promptly Freed moved them on the shelf to the left. What difference it made, Laxus didn't know. Or, he couldn't even place a sweatshirt on the sofa for a moment, which Freed took it and hung it on the coat hanger. And he did that for every little thing, and if Laxus hadn't said anything at first, now he was starting to get on his nerves.

Another vice of Freed was that no matter how tidy he was and how much he always cleaned everything, that didn't apply to the moka pot. No, that was always in the sink, and Laxus always had to wash it before using it. Quite annoying, especially in the morning when he was in a hurry. Another thing that bothered him was that every time Freed came out of the bathroom after taking a shower, he felt like entering a sauna. Laxus wasn't kidding at all, he didn't understand what the hell he was doing in the bathroom for so long, it was probably because of his long hair that he took hours.

And that had happened that day too. Freed had just come out of the bathroom, his damp hair pulled back into a high ponytail leaving a cloud of steam inside him. Laxus stared at the completely fogged mirror and then walked out, turning to his roommate.

“What are you doing in there, the sauna?” he asked. Freed turned in surprise to him.

“I like to take a hot shower” he replied with a shrug. Laxus snorted.

“Well, you could at least open the window when you finish” he pointed out. Freed nodded absently and leaned over to the sofa, where Laxus had momentarily placed his sweatshirt. That boy really had a fixation. “Can you leave it there and stop moving my things around?” he blurted out nervously. Freed immediately pulled his arm back and snorted lightly.

“I can't stand the mess” he said frowning. “There’s a coat rack if you hadn't noticed it. It's right there” he added pointing it out.

“Fuck, I just put it down, two minutes and I'll take it” Laxus objected.

“No, you didn't just put it down” Freed retorted. “It's been here since before I went into the bathroom, so it's been here for at least twenty minutes” he pointed out. “And this is not only true for the sweatshirt, but also for the glasses you leave in the sink, what does it cost you to wash them? I always have to do it myself” he asked.

“Nobody tells you to do it, maybe if I leave them there, there is a reason. You know, I get thirsty several times a day, I don't wash a glass every five minutes”.

“Then take it to your room and don't leave it in the kitchen” Freed snapped. Okay, Laxus hadn't expected that from a single comment Freed would start throwing everything at him. Well, sometimes he forgot to put things in the dishwasher, but it's not like he was creating chaos around. It was just a damn glass.

“Well, you always leave the moka pot in the sink” he pointed out, just to have something to throw at him too.

“Because it's morning and I'm tired. And anyway, it's the only thing I mess up. It doesn't seem like a big thing to complain about” the roommate objected. Laxus raised an eyebrow.

“You always move everything around and every time you come out of the bathroom it's... like this” he said, pointing to the small room still full of steam. Freed crossed his arms. “And you never open the window” the blond added.

“I just forgot today” Freed defended. It wasn't true, and Laxus was about to tell him, but the green-haired boy preceded him. “And you could still go and open the door when you order food? Every holy night I have to go, because you always have those damn headphones on” he told him. Well, Freed was right about that, Laxus couldn't say anything. And in any case, he didn't want to fight, Freed wasn't really bad as a roommate compared to the people he had found himself with the first time. He took a deep breath.

“Look, I don't want to fight. You're not bad as a roommate, I'll try to put the keys in their place, just… don't move my stuff” he told him trying to be more understanding. The last thing he wanted was to live with tension in that apartment. Freed seemed to calm down at that point.

“Okay” he agreed. “And I'll try to clean the moka pot in the morning” he muttered. Laxus smiled slightly, relieved that they hadn't made things worse.

“And the window in the bathroom” he reminded him as he entered the sauna. Freed rolled his eyes and Laxus heard him mutter something. He didn't answer him and shut himself in, starting to undress to get into the shower. Actually, he didn't think Freed was so bothered by the glasses he left in the sink. Well, even if Laxus thought it was bullshit, he would have forced himself to be more careful. But when he was in the shower and heard the doorbell ring, he remembered ordering the kebab.

“You have already broken the pact!” Freed yelled at him from outside.

Damn, Laxus thought. That timing really sucked.

-3-

The next evening Freed had offered to make him dinner, as he had noticed that the blonde almost always ordered take-out. So Laxus was sitting at the kitchen table waiting for it to be ready. The boy had told him that he would make him an Italian dish, Laxus just hoped he was capable of it, but since Freed spent a lot of time in the kitchen, he assumed he would.

“Where did you learn to cook Italian?” Laxus asked.

“I have relatives who moved there” the boy explained, draining the spaghetti and then throwing them back into the pot with the eggs and bacon and starting to mix. Laxus watched him curiously, until the roommate brought the pasta to the table and put a large portion on his plate.

“So, have you ever eaten carbonara?” Freed asked. Laxus nodded.

“Yes, I think. I don't know if it was like this, since I've never been to Italy” he said as he began to pick up the spaghetti. He had to admit, it was really good. Freed smiled.

“Well, this is the recipe my cousin gave me. When I go there she always makes me taste something new” he revealed.

“You’re lucky” Laxus commented. “Do you often go there?”. Freed began to tell him that he had gone more often when he was younger, usually it was his cousin who came to him. Laxus began to find out more about the boy, and told something about himself as well. They had never talked for so long. Not that they hated each other before, on the contrary, simply everyone had their own commitments and they had never found themselves alone for long. The argument suddenly ended in Bickslow, the friend they had in common.

“By the way, this Saturday we're going bowling. We are three, if you want to join us you’re welcome, so we make two teams” Freed told him. Laxus nodded, he had nothing else to do and maybe it would have been fun. So, he agreed and then started washing the pots and dishes, as Freed had cooked.

“Have you ever watched 'Fiore’s kingdom'?” Freed asked, getting up and starting to dry the pots.

“To tell you the truth no, it's that fantasy series that's going a lot right now, right?” he asked as he passed the sponge over the pot. Freed nodded.

“Yes, they do the first episode tonight. You can see it, if it inspires you” Freed said. Laxus nodded. Why not? Anyway, his alternative was to stay in the room listening to music on headphones until he fell asleep. So, after finishing cleaning, he moved to the living room and the two boys sat next to each other. Laxus put his feet comfortably on the coffee table as Freed fiddled with the remote. They chatted a little longer before the episode began, and then concentrated on TV.

Laxus immediately found himself immersed in the story, and even though Freed had already seen the first season, he didn't seem bothered to have to see it again. Indeed, according to him, he enjoyed watching the episodes several times to capture every detail. Neither of them knew yet, but that would become their routine in the next month.

-4-

Saturday night arrived and Laxus and Freed went to bowling together. When they got there, they already found Bickslow and a girl Laxus had never known. In any case, she didn't seem ready for a bowling night as she wore heeled ankle boots and an overly elegant blouse.

“Finally, guys, we've been waiting for you” Bickslow greeted them. The girl turned to Laxus and introduced herself.

“Evergreen, you’re Laxus, right?” she asked. The blond nodded. “So, what's it like to live with Freed? Is he still stressful and obsessed with tidiness?” she asked as she entered the room. Laxus smiled, then it wasn't just his impression. Freed rolled his eyes and sure he was ready to argue but Laxus anticipated him.

“Actually yes, I can't put anything anywhere even for two seconds that he curses me” he joked.

“I know the situation” Evergreen chuckled.

“You're just messy and you don't want to admit it, that's all” Freed objected.

“No Freed, if everyone says you're exaggerated, then you are” Evergreen pointed out. The boy didn’t reply because the four went to the counter to request a lane. When they got to theirs, they changed their shoes and looked around, on Saturday night the place was always full. If Bickslow hadn't booked they probably wouldn't have found a place.

“So, how do we split up?” Bickslow asked. Laxus shrugged, it was the same for him.

“It's enough for me not to be with Freed” Evergreen commented.

“Same” said the boy concerned.

“Well, then I'll be with Freed, while Laxus with Ever” Bickslow decided for everyone. So, the boys split up and began to take the balloons. “Oh Laxus, I forgot to tell you, we usually make those who lose the game pay for a drink” he warned him with a grin. Laxus raised an eyebrow.

“You could have said that before you teamed me up with her”. He realized too late that it wasn't really something nice to say, and the girl immediately frowned at him.

“What do you have against me?”

“Nothing. Just... you came here in heels” Laxus muttered a little embarrassed, while Freed and Bickslow smiled in amusement.

“Yes, because I always have to be perfect. Don't underestimate me, and mind you, if we lose because of you, I'll make you weigh it” she said.

“Listen to her, she can be really competitive, that's why I hate being with her on the team” Freed told him.

“Why does she fuck you every time you make a pitiful figure?” he couldn't help but ask Laxus with an arrogant smile. Freed gave him a dirty look.

“You're underestimating too many people tonight” he commented. Laxus grinned.

“Okok, I'm not saying anything more” he said as a sign of peace. Anyway, he would find out everything soon.

Laxus had really misjudged Evergreen. Other than competitive, that girl didn’t accept losing and she was good too. Definitely a good bowling partner, they were giving the other two guys a hard time. The first three games had been won by Bickslow and Freed, but those last two were his and Evergreen’s. They were still at a disadvantage, but only by one, and ultimately the evening was fun. At the end of each game, they would order drinks and something to munch on and, Laxus had to admit to himself at least, it wasn't bad at all to see his roommate play. This was thanks to those jeans that wrapped around his backside, on which Laxus was now focusing his eyes on almost every shot of him. At the umpteenth strike Freed turned to him, with an amused and satisfied smile on his face.

“Tsk. I admit, you're not as mediocre as I thought” Laxus then told him, slightly amused. Yeah, because even though he was losing -and he hated losing- he was still in a good mood, maybe it was Freed's view, or maybe the fact that for the first time in a while he was having fun with other guys. He and Evergreen lost the game and went back to the counter to order more beers and two plates of chips.

“So, you were Freed's roommate too?” Laxus asked. The brunette nodded.

“For a while, I honestly don't know how you can handle it. He always took the make-up I left in the bathroom and hid them from me just to annoy me” she told him “He thought that this way I understood that I shouldn't leave them lying around, until I made him understand that he should no longer allow himself to touch my stuff even if we were friends” she explained. Laxus nodded.

“I understand. Well, considering the terrible roommates I've had before, he's not bad” the blond commented. Evergreen smiled.

“I think we all have stories to tell about roommates. Anyway, let's get Freed something heavy” he said, ordering a cocktail for his friend. Laxus raised an eyebrow.

“Why?” It seemed to him that Freed wanted a beer. Evergreen smiled devilishly.

“Because if he drinks, he'll start to miss shots” she explained. Laxus laughed.

“You play dirty, I like you” he escaped and Evergreen chuckled. Then the two returned with everything they had ordered from the two boys, who were talking to each other.

“Ohhh, here are the losers!” Bickslow exclaimed theatrically.

“Not for long, Bix” Laxus said, handing the cocktail to Freed, who accepted it willingly with an amused smirk on his face. He strangely didn't ask any questions and the boys started the next game. They went on to play for a while, and with each round new glasses arrived. Time passed quickly and Laxus found that Evergreen was right, Freed's shots were getting worse and worse, and Laxus enjoyed seeing him tipsy. Freed was throwing the ball and as always Laxus's eyes were on him, on his arms on which he had rolled up his sleeves and on his backside. Damn, he was handsome. Honestly, if he hadn't been engaged and if he hadn't been his roommate, Laxus would have hit him. Freed completely missed the shot and the ball went out of the lane hitting no pins. The boy snorted and sat down next to the blond, who laughed loudly.

“Nice scene, really. How many pins have you hit? Because I still see them all there” he teased.

“Just because you made me drink” Freed objected. Laxus chuckled.

“You can't handle alcohol much, you only drank a few beers” he continued with a mocking vein.

“Actually, it's the third time Ever has brought me something weird, I don't even know what this stuff is” he said, taking the glass and observing the dark contents. Laxus laughed heartily and Freed turned surprised a little red in the face.

“Did you really go out with a few drinks?” he asked amused.

“Hey, you only had a few beers. Ever gave me this stuff” the boy said offended and Laxus smiled to see him like that.

“Let's say you can't accept defeat”.

“Actually, it turns out to me that we're ahead” Freed said.

“Not anymore” Evergreen trilled indicate the score on the scoreboard. Laxus looked up, actually the girl was right: they were even. He glanced at Freed, but he still seemed to be focusing on the writing. After a few seconds he snorted.

“You play against the rules” he said. Laxus patted him on the shoulder.

“Sure, in the meantime, go get something to drink. Try not to trip over your feet, even if it would be fun to see” he told him. Freed stood up giving him a dirty look, then walked with Bickslow towards the bar. Laxus stretched his legs out in front of him, stretching before hearing the girl laugh. He looked up confused.

“You missed the scene of Freed about to stumble on the steps” he told him. Laxus smiled and turned, but apparently the boy had already recovered, because he was walking towards the bar. He was sorry he missed the scene, but if he stared a little longer then one of the two friends would have suspected something. He had been glancing at him all the time, it was really time to stop it. “I think they're closing” muttered the brunette. Laxus only realized then that in fact they were practically the only ones left there. Shortly thereafter Freed and Bickslow returned empty-handed.

“The bar is closing. Do you want to play one last quick game in order to declare who is the overall winner or shall we get out of here?” Bickslow asked. Evergreen was about to answer, but Freed hit the coffee table and wobbled it with all the glasses on it. “Hey look out” the friend next to him warned him.

“You're really drunk” the brunette chuckled.

“I'm only slightly tipsy, and then it's your fault. How many drinks did you make me drink?” Freed complained running a hand through his hair.

“Maybe I exaggerated” laughed Evergreen, who on the contrary had only taken soft drinks after the first three laps, not wanting to have a hangover the next day.

“Well, I guess we'll have to stop the game here, or it risks rolling with the ball” Laxus said.

“I can go on” Freed replied immediately “And anyway we have to establish a winner, even if, considering that you played dirty, I can already say that we won”.

“Played dirty? We all drank” Evergreen said.

“No, you took fruit juices” Freed objected. Bickslow rolled her eyes and eventually a girl from the club came to warn them that they were closing, so they were forced out of there. They said goodbye and Laxus and Freed made their way to their apartment, which thankfully was not far from there on foot. Laxus threw an amused look at the roommate, who was more likeable when tipsy, since he chatted more than usual and was more relaxed. They arrived at the building and Freed threw himself into the elevator, while Laxus rolled his eyes.

“Are you really that lazy? It's just two flights of stairs” he said as he entered.

“Honestly I'm not sure I can do them without tipping over” he muttered, leaning his head against the wall.

“Yeah, Evergreen told me I missed the scene you tripped over” he chuckled.

“I've never tripped, I just got my foot badly for a moment” Freed immediately retorted.

“You mean you tripped” Laxus insisted.

“No, there's a big difference ... have you ever played 'The Elevator Game'?” he asked changing the subject completely. Laxus turned to him.

“Never heard of it” he replied.

“Of course? It's a fun game, Bickslow and I used to play it when we were kids. It’s more a ritual than a game, it allows you to reach the Otherworld with an elevator, as long as it reaches ten floors or more. Too bad this building is small or we could do it. You basically have to go to the fourth floor first, then the second, and then the seventh. Or maybe it was the sixth. No, maybe you have to start with the sixth and…” he said thoughtfully. Laxus stared at him amused and perplexed. The elevator had arrived.

“Maybe you can explain it to me tomorrow, huh?” he amused himself by stepping out and pushing Freed out with a hand on his shoulder. Freed got carried away with no problem continuing to mumble something about that game, or ritual, or whatever it was.

“Anyway, at a certain point you will meet a woman who will ask you where you are going and eventually you will reach the Otherworld. The point is that once you get there, it's very difficult to get back to reality” Freed finished as Laxus opened the door.

“Did you really do this shit as a kid?” he asked skeptically.

“Sure, I even had a Ouija board” Freed said and Laxus found himself laughing as he pushed Freed into the apartment.

“Seriously? I didn't really expect that from you” he commented as he closed the door behind him. “But now stop talking about these things and go to sleep” he told him. Freed turned to him with a soft smile on his face and placed a hand on his chest. Laxus tensed slightly and stared at him a little surprised, trying to ignore that closeness and the warmth of his hand.

“I like you, you know? You're a good roommate, even though I always complain” he told him. Laxus stared at him again in surprise, and for a moment he thought about how good those words sounded. He smiled trying to ignore that vague feeling of warmth that was starting to build inside him.

“I'll remind you tomorrow” he told him with a half laugh, trying to hide his embarrassment. Freed chuckled.

“No, don't do that” he told him and then took his hand away from his body, much to Laxus' chagrin, and walked away to his bedroom. As soon as he closed in, Laxus sighed and closed his eyes. Whatever he was feeling he had better stop.

-5-

Laxus and Freed had been living together for two months now and it was getting better and better. Freed had learned to open the window after taking a shower, and Laxus was trying not to mess with anything. Furthermore, watching the TV series on the sofa and having dinner together had become a habit. Quite a nice habit, to tell the truth. It was weird but Laxus liked Freed's company, he liked chatting stupid things with him and listening to weird rituals he had done as a child. He liked to discuss books and movies that they both liked. And he also discovered that they had the same tastes in music, they both listened to the same band. Freed would occasionally come up with some weird recipes and they would often hang out with Evergreen and Bickslow, either going bowling or having fun in other ways. It was really good.

Except for one small detail, Laxus didn't like Freed's boyfriend. The reason was actually pretty obvious, he just didn't like the fact that Freed had a boyfriend, even though he didn't come often. Usually, it was Freed who went to his house, and anyway they were always very respectful, besides a few giggles he didn't hear much. They didn't bother him in the least.

Except that evening. That night the two were wreaking havoc, and they were clearly fucking in the next room. Actually, Laxus was quite convinced that Freed didn't know he was there, since the blonde had told him that he would go to see a friend and that he would be back late. In the end, however, Mirajane had stood him up and Laxus had returned earlier than expected, and now that he was lying on the bed, he could hear almost everything. He was pretty sure that if he knocked on the wall the two would calm down, as they weren't usually that loud. But Laxus still hadn't.

Partly because he felt guilty, Freed had had to organize that evening with the boy taking advantage of the fact that he wasn't there and he thought they would finish shortly, partly because... because ok, imagining Freed doing certain things was quite intriguing. Sure, if he had been more honest with himself, he would have admitted that he would have preferred to be in that room, but he tried not to think too much about it. To tell the truth, it was also dangerous to imagine Freed in certain situations.

At that point, however, it was too late to think about it, because the two had finished having fun. Thankfully, so Laxus could stop imagining Freed's face, or his body, or his lips and, okay, Laxus just had to stop thinking about Freed and be done with it. He had a boyfriend, what the fuck.

He closed his eyes trying to think about the least sexy thing in the world when he heard a door slam. He frowned and opened his eyes again.

“Well, then I'm going home to sleep!” he heard screaming.

“Why do you have to do this?” Laxus heard Freed ask aloud.

“Maybe because you're an asshole”.

Okay, the last thing Laxus wanted to do was go about Freed’s business and see a fight. But if he left the room, he would admit he heard everything, and that was equally embarrassing. Fuck, that shouldn't have happened. He should have just been out of the house.

“You're misrepresenting all my words, why can't we have a quiet evening without fighting over some bullshit?” Freed snapped on the other side.

“Bullshit?” he yelled that. Laxus, however, only heard an incomprehensible mutter, because Freed must have lowered his voice. Better this way, he thought. After a while he heard the front door open and close, and then total nothing. Well, that must have been a shit night for Freed. Laxus didn't want to think about it anyway. He turned over in bed, now tired, and closed his eyes, after a while he fell asleep.

When he woke up the next morning, Laxus found the moka pot on the stove and a note.

“The coffee is ready, you just have to turn it on. I'm sorry I bothered you last night, I didn't think you were home.

P.S. Your keys are hanging in the new wall key holder I bought”.

Laxus was quite surprised. So, Freed knew he was there, he must have noticed when he went into the living room and saw his keys on the usual cabinet where Laxus left them. He put a hand through his hair, understanding why the two boys had lowered their voices at one point. He lit up his coffee and sat down wearily at the table, just hoping that Freed wouldn't come up with the conversation anymore.

-6-

Fortunately, the speech never came out. Laxus hadn't asked for anything and Freed hadn't talked about it, things were exactly the same as before. The only thing that had changed was that Laxus no longer saw Freed's boyfriend around, every now and then he was tempted to ask him if they were still together, but it seemed really bad as a thing to do, so in the end he kept silent and kept his doubts for himself. And things were fine like that. Maybe he would get Bickslow to tell him later. Speaking of Bickslow, he had just written to him.

“Wait, do you play the guitar?” Laxus asked surprised opening the photo that his friend had just sent him. Freed looked up from the book he was reading. He had a puzzled expression and Laxus turned the phone towards him. The photo showed Freed, Bickslow and Evergreen when they were teenagers. Freed had the guitar in his hand, Evergreen the bass and Bickslow was on the drums. The boy's face turned red and Freed covered it with his hand.

“I'll have to kill Bickslow” he moaned. Laxus laughed and looked at the photo again. All three of them were younger. Evergreen had much frizzier hair, Bickslow had a faded blue crest, while Freed had hair down to just below the shoulders. And all three were dressed as if they were part of a punk band. Freed had a red leather jacket and a rock band shirt, Bickslow a studded jacket and Evergreen a bright green miniskirt.

“Were you really serious, did you want to start a punk band?” Laxus asked.

“Please, I don't want to think about that time” Freed mumbled embarrassed as he looked down at the book again. Laxus, however, had no intention of stopping there. He zoomed in on Freed's photo and chuckled.

“You even decorated your guitar” he noted.

“I said I don't want to talk about it” Freed snapped.

“Okay, then I'll ask Bickslow” Laxus said with a smirk. Freed at that sentence jerked his head up.

“No” he said right away. Laxus grinned.

“So can you tell me something about this?” he asked curiously. Freed rolled his eyes.

“Well, we wanted to form a band. We had also decided on the name, but… in the end luckily, we didn't do anything with it. Are you happy now?” he said shortly.

“Hey, I want to know more. Have you played around? Wrote your songs?” Laxus asked.

“Yes, we played around the streets. No, we haven't written any songs. We did covers, or at least… we tried” Freed said. “Now that's enough, I won't say a word more” he decided dryly.

“Come on, I'm curious to hear something. Sure you recorded your covers” Laxus insisted.

“Yes, but I eliminated them all” Freed said dryly. Laxus raised an eyebrow.

“So, if I ask Bickslow he doesn't have them...”.

“Why do you care so much about it?” Laxus's phone vibrated and the blonde looked down at the message, as soon as he saw it his smile widened.

“He sent me an audio”.

“Oh God, no” Freed snapped and leaned over to grab his phone, but Laxus moved his arm faster. “Laxus, don't... I swear that if you start that audio, I'll make your life hell here” he threatened him. The blond chuckled.

“Why are you so upset? Relax” he said raising his arm so Freed couldn't get there. The boy was obviously annoyed by this, and Laxus was just happy with it. The phone vibrated again.

“What the hell is that jerk sending you again?” Freed snapped. Laxus looked up at the phone and watched. It was a message: “Bickslow: Freed still has his guitar, if you ask him to play you something I'm sure he will ;)”

“So, do you have a guitar?” Laxus asked.

“I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him in the worst way” he blurted out more and more irritated without answering the question.

“If you don't play me, I'll ask Bickslow to send me all the photos and recordings from that period” Laxus said at that point. Freed's expression became shocked.

“Don't you dare” he said only worried.

“Hell, I'm really tempted now” Laxus laughed. “So, would you rather play me something or put the threat into action?”

“I don't have a guitar here”.

“Too bad” Laxus said, turning his gaze to the phone and starting to write. Freed grabbed his arm and tried in vain to pull him down.

“Okay okay. I'll play something, but please shut the damn phone. Blocks Bickslow directly” Freed told him probably anxiously gripped. Laxus locked the phone and slipped it into his pocket satisfied. He sat on the sofa while Freed went to retrieve the guitar in his room. Laxus looked at her curiously. There was a drawing of a lightning bolt above, and the word 'Thunder'.

“Don't comment, I was 13” Freed ordered badly. Laxus raised his hands in peace. Freed snorted as he began to tune the guitar.

“You still play it, right?” Laxus asked. If Freed kept her in that apartment, there must be a reason. The boy shrugged.

“Sometimes” he admitted sitting on the arm of the sofa. Laxus looked at him curiously. For him who had always been passionate about music, it was nice to be able to hear someone play. He had never had the opportunity to learn how to do it, and he doubted he even had the patience for it. “Well, if you want, I'll play you an old Phantom Lord song” he told him. Laxus nodded, he was fine with anything. Freed began to play a song that the blond recognized immediately. Indeed, the boy had to play often, as his fingers moved safely on the strings.

“Aren't you singing?” Laxus asked him suddenly. Freed stiffened.

“No” he said dryly.

“Who sang among you three?” Laxus asked.

“Ever” dry reply again. “And sometimes I” he admitted after a moment's pause. Laxus chuckled in amusement.

“Are you out of tune or do you not like to sing?”.

“I'm terribly out of tune. This is why we never continued. Bickslow didn't sing too busy playing drums, Evergreen doesn't like to sing and I'm not capable of it. Honestly, I tried. And I suck, I know for myself and before you ask me, I won't sing” he clarified. Laxus smiled.

“Now I'm curious” he retorted. “I think the audio Bickslow sent me is really a cover of yours, who knows, maybe you sang it yourself” he then commented slyly.

“Laxus, no” Freed warned him. “I'm serious, I don't want to hear that stuff, whatever it is”.

“Then sing me a song” Laxus urged him “Come on, don't be a brat”.

“Settle for the guitar, what the fuck. I'm already playing for you”.

“I don't think I've ever heard you swear as much as tonight” Laxus teased, settling himself comfortably on the sofa. Freed gave him a dirty look and then smiled.

“You sing” he told him. Laxus raised an eyebrow in surprise at that request. “After all, you’re always with headphones on, sometimes I hear you sing”. Laxus snorted but nodded. He had no problem singing.

“Okay, but you first. I'm two seconds playing that audio” he reminded him. Freed snorted and blushed slightly as Laxus curiously watched him. After a few seconds he began to sing. Laxus stared at him in surprise. Actually, he wasn't quite as in tune, but not as terrible as he had said. And, Laxus couldn't do anything about it, he felt his stomach flutter. Freed had his eyes on the ropes fortunately, so he couldn’t see the expression Laxus had on his face. Because Laxus was completely fascinated by him, by his voice, by his fingers moving, by his hair set to one side, by his whole being. And damn it, Laxus wanted to kiss him. He wanted to take his face in his hands and join their lips, run his fingers through his hair and hold him close. He wanted to stretch out on that couch with him and spend all night there, no matter what, he just wanted to be with Freed. His throat went dry, and when Freed finished singing, he tried to make himself feel good.

“Your turn” Freed said, looking up at him. Laxus found himself blushing for no reason, just from catching his gaze.

“Uh... sure” he grunted awkwardly, just hoping that his friend thought he was in those states for the fact that he was forced to sing, and for nothing else. Freed looked at him in surprise.

“Strange that you haven't made any comment on my intonation” he said then amused.

“You... you're not bad” Laxus muttered. He felt more heat radiate on his face and just hoped it wasn't too visible. The expression on Freed's face changed softening and for a few seconds he remained silent looking at him. The desire to kiss him grew more and more. Laxus didn't even realize it but he was pushing towards Freed, closing the distance and only when he was close enough to smell his shampoo clearly, he realized how far he had moved. Too close. Too much, he could feel his friend's breath on his face. But then Freed jumped off the couch.

“I… sorry… I forgot about an appointment” Freed said agitatedly. Laxus sat stiffly on the sofa.

“Yes sure”.

“Sorry, Rufus... he's waiting for me” Freed stammered gesturing like crazy. At that name Laxus stiffened. Fuck. Freed had a boyfriend. How the hell had he forgotten it? “Ye… see you, huh” Freed said. A moment later he took his jacket and left the house. Laxus stood there, feeling like an idiot.

-7-

Laxus and Freed hadn't talked about it. In reality they pretended that nothing had happened, unfortunately they were forced to see each other at home but the conversations had become much shorter. They no longer dined together, and Laxus had started ordering food again and their TV series had been abandoned. Or at least, Laxus had abandoned it, he didn't want to look it without Freed. It seemed silly to be honest, but he'd tried it once and it just wasn't the same. Not without his friend's comments. Not without the popcorn they enjoyed making together. So Laxus was concentrating on his study, still trying to have as normal conversations as possible, even though he clearly felt a certain nervousness and tension when they were together in the same room. And the worst part was that Laxus had no idea what to do to improve it. He hadn't wanted them to get to that point, why the fuck had he had to come forward that night? It would have been better to be silent and still as usual, instead he had had to push himself towards him like an idiot.

Even the outings with Evergreen and Bickslow had dwindled, and usually, if he went, Freed wasn't there, and if Freed did, Laxus avoided showing up. If the two friends had noticed anything they hadn't said anything.

Annoyed he opened the book to study, until he noticed that his phone had been vibrating for too long now. He took it and saw it was Bickslow.

“Hey” he greeted him.

“Hey, hi Laxus. Listen, is Freed alive?” the friend asked. Laxus raised an eyebrow.

“Yes” he replied dryly. He had seen him that morning before he left the house.

“So, can you pass him to me? He hasn't answered me for days!” he exclaimed. Laxus made a face, the last thing he wanted was to talk to his roommate.

“He's studying” he said lowering his voice, hoping Freed wouldn't hear. After all, if Freed didn't want to talk to Bickslow, he wouldn't have to. He heard his friend snort loudly on the other side of the phone.

“I hate him when he does that” the boy muttered.

“As well as?” Laxus asked.

“He broke up with Rufus, and now he's closing in on his silence and refusing to talk to anyone about it” Bickslow explained. Laxus was silent. He didn’t know what to think of what his friend had just told him. Had they broken up because of him? No, it was all too presumptuous to think about it and after all nothing had ever happened between them. Moreover, from what little he knew about them, the two had already been arguing for a while.

“Are you alive?” Bickslow asked.

“I… yes, look, I have to study. I'll tell Freed to call you back” he told him. He greeted his friend and closed the call. Maybe he would have preferred not to know, because now he was doing too many mental journeys and it wasn't his business. He closed the book knowing that he wouldn't be able to think of anything and put his fingers to his temples. As much as one part of him was happy that those two had broken up -one part rather bitchy, he considered- the other was thinking about what Freed was going through. It was never easy to deal with a breakup, right?

He snorted and got up from his chair entering the living room and hearing that Freed was fumbling in the kitchen. Laxus was already about to order something to eat but finally decided to talk to the roommate first. So, he walked over to the kitchen door and leaned his shoulder against the door jamb.

“Hey, Bickslow called and asked for you” he told him. Freed glanced at him, then turned back to the pan on the stove.

“He just doesn't mind his own business” muttered the roommate with some irritation in his voice. Laxus stared at him in silence for a few minutes.

“He's worried” he said after a while.

“Well, you can tell him I'm alive” Freed said dryly.

“I think you should tell him” Laxus objected. “Look… I'm sorry for you and your boyfriend. If you want to talk about it, well…” he said vaguely, not quite knowing how to continue the sentence. Freed whirled towards him, as if he had said something he shouldn't have. He glared at him, then turned back to the pan.

“Of course he told you” he growled in a low voice. “Well, I'm not sick anyway. As you can see I’m alive, I eat and I continue to do the things I’ve always done. I'm not a teenager with the first crush” he then added aloud. Laxus stared at him puzzled.

“You know there’s nothing wrong with admitting...”.

“Do you need anything else?” Freed snapped interrupting him. Laxus fell silent.

“No” he just said, then left the kitchen and went to order himself something to take away.

-8-

Laxus had just taken an exam, it also went well for him so he was very satisfied. Although the situation with Freed had not improved, in fact, since he had told him about the boyfriend, it had even gotten worse. Despite this Laxus continued to move on with his life. A little more boring and a little sadder, but he couldn't do anything about it. Freed had become a wall.

Laxus walked into the house and as soon as he stepped inside, he saw that something was wrong. Freed's shoes were in the middle of the hall, and there was an empty plate on the coffee table in the living room. Freed never left anything messed up, so that was kind of weird. Laxus put the keys down partly closing the door behind him and took two steps into the living room, noticing only at that moment that Freed was lying on the sofa and sleeping. Laxus frowned as he approached him, looking at him a little surprised. Since they had lived together, he had never caught him even taking a little nap.

He glanced over his figure, he was wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt, and his hair was loose and untidy, Laxus smiled slightly at the sight, at least until he saw a thermometer beside his arm. At that point he bent down and placed a hand on his forehead, only to feel it was actually hot. Surely he had a fever, and this explains the mess. At that point Laxus went to get a blanket from his room and covered it, then took the plate and went to the kitchen to clean it. Once finished and back in the living room he noticed that Freed had woken up, and he was yawning sitting on the couch.

“Alright?” Laxus asked him. Freed turned confused to him and ran a hand through his hair.

“I haven't had a fever for years, thanks for the blanket” he muttered hoarsely. Laxus smiled slightly.

“I asked you if you’re okay” he pointed out, as the roommate had avoided his question.

“Yes, just a little headache and cold” he replied, hugging the blanket. “For once you’re the one to put in order what I leave around” he commented.

“Yep, you're really messy. Shoes in the middle of the hall and flat on the coffee table” Laxus teased. Freed snorted.

“I know without even turning around that you didn't hang the keys in their place” he retorted. Laxus laughed slightly.

“Indeed” he admitted.

“Put them in place, it bothers me”.

“You don't even see them, it can't bother you” Laxus retorted. Freed yawned again. “Do you need something? Tachipirina, moment ...?”.

“No, I don't like taking medicine. I just need to sleep” Freed mumbled standing up with the blanket on, but immediately sat back on the sofa and hid his face in his hands. Laxus approached a little worried.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked him.

“Yes, just a dizziness. Come on now, I just need to sleep. Fuck, I never get a fever and I’ve an exam in two days” he snapped. “I guess I'll really have to fill myself with medicine” he said with a grimace.

“Eh, this is bad luck” Laxus commented “Come on, I'll make you something hot.”

“Why? Can you cook?” Freed teased him.

“You're sick but you're still whiny” Laxus commented with a smile. As much as he wasn't happy that the roommate was sick, he was happy to be able to talk to each other normally again. “And anyway, yes, I can cook. I just don't like it. Stay on the sofa, I'll be right back” he said and went back into the kitchen. When he returned with a plate of hot rice and vegetables, Freed made a smirk.

“You should have made a broth” he told him. Laxus rolled his eyes as he sat down beside him.

“You don't feel so bad if you keep complaining” he noted, observing his friend's pale face as he began to nibble without appetite.

“Admit you don't know how to cook broth”.

“Hey, stop complaining, or I'll mess up the whole apartment” he told him. Freed smiled faintly, continuing to nibble on small bites. Laxus finished ahead of him and set the plate down on the coffee table. After a few minutes Freed put the plate down with some more food on it, simply because he had no appetite, although he joked that if Laxus cooked better he would finish it. Then he took the thermometer again and measured his fever, which seemed to have subsided. At that point the boy got up, he was obviously tired and just wanted to sleep, even though he had already done so in the afternoon. Laxus took the dishes to wash them, relieved that they had talked a little about the last few days. He turned to go to the kitchen but Freed called him.

“Look” Laxus looked back at Freed. “I'm sorry about how I've treated you these days. I just don't like talking about my stuff, and I tend to close in on myself when something is wrong, I don't like people minding my business” he told him. Laxus noticed how stiff he was, a sign that it wasn't easy for him to talk about those things.

“Ok, you know I didn't want to mind your business, right? Just… well, if you needed a shoulder” he told him then.

“I know. I know, I just… I don't like talking about it anyway” Freed repeated. Laxus nodded slowly, scrutinizing his friend, who was evidently not well, and not just because of the fever.

“Sometimes it's good to let off steam, you know?”.

“I guess so” Freed whispered. “Just… saying things out loud makes me feel like an idiot. I mean, I'm not a teenager at the first crush and anyway it wasn't good between us, but still, it's not nice” he threw out.

“I'm sorry” he said not knowing what else to say. Freed shrugged.

“We haven't even been together for so long, just... it doesn't matter, anyway, I guess it just takes some time” he added with a small hint of a smile. “And you’ve some dishes to wash” he added then. Laxus smiled.

“Yes, as soon as you recover, know that I'll give all the work to you” he said with a hint of amusement.

“Sure” Freed said walking towards his room with the blanket still wrapped around him, and the blond chuckled at the view. The friend turned to him, frowning. “What do you have now?”.

“Oh, nothing, you know you're walking around with a blanket, right?” he teased him.

“Yes, and know that I won't give it back to you until I'm healed, it's hot and I'm not going to get out of here” Freed declared seriously, stealing another laugh from Laxus. Freed smiled faintly. “Thanks for everything, goodnight” he told him and then shut himself in his room.

“Night” Laxus whispered and returned to the kitchen with a smile. That had definitely been a good day.

-9-

“You mean you've never done an Escape Room?” Freed asked surprised. Laxus rolled his eyes.

“Never. I'm not crazy about that bullshit with demons and zombies and weird rituals, or whatever is in there” he said.

“Is that another way of saying you're afraid?” his friend teased him and Laxus rolled his eyes and gave him a grim look.

“I'm not afraid, it's just not things that amuse me” he objected. Freed, however, had a smirk on his face and didn’t seem to want to give up.

“Well, if you're afraid there are rooms with other themes, mostly they are logic games, they don't have to be horror themed. However, you shouldn't worry anyway, you know, zombies are fake”.

“I never would have imagined it” Laxus said ironically. Freed grinned as he pulled on his jacket.

“Come on let's go, Bickslow and Evergreen are waiting for us”. Laxus shook his head in amusement and put on his coat, then left the house and followed Freed, who was already walking down the stairs. He began to tease him that he shouldn't be scared, even though ghosts could appear from time to time because they were attracted to the horror-themed rooms. Laxus found himself listening to the boy with a smile on his face. That game didn't inspire him much, but the idea of spending an entire afternoon with Freed wasn't bad at all.

In the end it was more fun than expected. Mainly for the company, Freed was definitely the most into those things, while Bickslow had more fun fooling around with all the items he found around the room. Evergreen was equally into that game, perhaps she even reached Freed’s enthusiasm. Laxus smiled slightly as he saw the roommate struggling with a code to decode, while the girl looked for an image of a sun somewhere.

“How are you with that code?” Laxus asked him.

“Ah, I think I understand how to decode it, I just need a pen and paper”. Laxus handed him a sheet. “Your usefulness in this game is great” Freed said ironically taking it and the blond chuckled.

“You were the one who dragged me here” he pointed out. Freed looked up at him and Laxus saw a glint of concern in his eyes. “Come on, tell me how you're decoding this stuff” he said before he cared if he was having a good time. Freed for a moment showed some uncertainty, but then he began to explain to him and Laxus found himself being dragged by his friend into the game. Eventually they came out early to the great satisfaction of Freed and Evergreen.

“We’re too smart” commented the girl “Not many manage to get out within the allotted time, you know?” she asked Laxus, who glanced at Freed.

“Well, I guess we couldn't expect anything else with a nerd” The boy concerned gave an amused smile.

“I'll take that as a compliment” he decided. Laxus giggled and then they said goodbye to Bickslow and Evergreen to go back to the apartment. They got into Freed's car, which he started and began to calmly walk through the streets. He turned on the radio at a low volume, leaving the music that was passing by.

“Did you have fun? I don't get offended if you say no, you know” Freed said after a while. Laxus turned towards him in surprise and noticed that the boy had stiffened a bit. He was almost imperceptible, but the blond now knew enough to understand him.

“Sure” he replied truthfully “I mean, I’d never go alone, but if you're with the right group of people you have fun everywhere, right?” he added. Freed nodded slowly and Laxus noticed that he was nervously nibbling his lip. “What's up?” she asked him. Freed gave him a surprised look without saying anything. “Come on, there's something you're worried about” Laxus said.

“Well… it's nothing, I just didn't want to have dragged you on a boring afternoon” he admitted. Laxus smiled faintly at his concern.

“Well, it's a little hard to get bored when you have a brat next to you who shoots bullshit one after another” he retorted. Freed frowned.

“The brat would be Bickslow, right?”

“No, that would be you” Laxus laughed.

-10-

Laxus cursed as he heard the doorbell ring. Who the fuck rang the doorbell at three in the morning? Extremely irritated he got out of bed, whoever the asshole was he would have yelled at him about everything. Annoyed, he went to the intercom.

“Who the fuck are you?” he growled without any moderation. Not that he wasn't justified, he was sleeping so well before that guy woke him up.

“It's me” he heard him mutter from the other side and Laxus widened his eyes: that was Freed's voice. “I forgot the keys” he added with a sneer. “I'm so sorry” he added. Laxus took a deep breath.

“You're drunk?” he asked him.

“No... just a little tipsy”. Only from the tone of his voice did Laxus realize that he was more than just tipsy. Annoyed, he opened the gate for him.

“Wait for me there. The elevator is broken and I'm sure you’d overturn from the stairs, even if you deserve it” he grunted. He put on his shoes and left the apartment, going down the stairs cursing over and over again, until he got to the ground floor. Freed was standing with his back against the wall, his eyes closed and his head dangling from side to side.

“How the fuck did you drink?” Laxus snapped as he approached. The roommate opened his eyes.

“I don’t know. Bickslow kept ordering stuff” he mumbled. Laxus rolled his eyes and grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him towards the stairs.

“You owe me a favor, and expect revenge. You fucking woke me up” he blurted out as he climbed the stairs with his friend staggering in front of him. “My goodness, I've never seen you so drunk. You weren't like that in bowling either” he commented.

“It's Bickslow's fault, he wanted to make a challenge. But I won” he added with a smirk.

“I doubt you won, Bickslow has more resistance than you” Laxus retorted annoyed.

“No, that wasn't the challenge” Freed chuckled. “He said I'd be a stupid drunk. Obviously, he was wrong, I recited the time table of seven and I solved a physics problem perfectly” he declared with great satisfaction. Laxus shook his head in resignation as he held him straight so he didn't squash his face to the ground.

“Too bad you can't walk straight” he grunted he still irritated by what he had to do at that time. Freed laughed and Laxus just hoped no one would come out complaining.

“I can recite you the whole monologue from the Lord of the Rings opening” Freed said.

“Please, no” Laxus begged, but Freed didn't listen to him and began to mumble.

“It began with the forging of the Great Rings. Three were given to the Elves, immortal, wisest and fairest of all beings. Seven to the Dwarf-Lords, great miners and craftsmen of the mountain halls. And nine, nine rings…” Laxus nevertheless found himself smiling amused. Freed didn't walk straight, but he really had memorized that monologue. When they arrived at the door, the friend was still talking, and the blonde let him do it wondering if he was going to play the whole movie for him too. He pushed his friend into the apartment and after a couple of seconds the boy fell silent.

“See, I've said it all. Without slackening or missing a single word” he declared with great satisfaction. Laxus ran a hand wearily over his face.

“You're weird” he mumbled and Freed chuckled again. He had to admit it though, seeing him like this was fun. Finally, he had broken down all the walls, his usual composed and mostly impassive expression was gone.

“I'm hungry, do you want some popcorn? I make them for both of us” Freed said.

“It's three in the morning, I'm not hungry. Go to sleep” Laxus told him. But Freed ignored him and headed for the kitchen.

“So, I know you eat them later!” he exclaimed.

“Don't fucking scream, people are sleeping” Laxus warned, following him into the kitchen. He would have gladly gone to sleep, but Freed had tipped some popcorn out of the pan and forgot to take the lid off. “So, they'll blow up all over the kitchen, and tomorrow you'll complain about how dirty you've got it all” he pointed out.

“I'll clean it all up” Freed retorted, lighting the gas. Laxus finally agreed that it was best to stay there and make sure he wasn't in trouble. He put a lid on the pan and forced him to sit down. Luckily Freed didn't reply and sat down at the table, resting his head on his hands.

“I thought you were more responsible, you know?” said the blond. Freed looked up at him.

“I'm responsible” he said immediately. “It was just a fun night, you could have come too, it would have been more fun” he added. Laxus found himself surprised to hear those words.

“It was a guy's birthday party I've never seen before” he reminded him. Freed shrugged.

“It would have been more fun anyway. You missed Bickslow doing karaoke, a rather pitiful scene” he said in amusement.

“Didn't you do it? That would have been fun” Laxus commented.

“No, as I said I’m responsible. I knew I was going to make a fool of myself, and I pretended to go to the bathroom when Bickslow wanted to drag me onto the stage” he said. Laxus smiled as he imagined the scene, then fell silent in the kitchen. The popcorn began to pop and when they were ready the blond transferred it to a bowl, mixed it with the salt and then put it on the table. Satisfied Freed began to eat while he told him what else Bickslow had done. Laxus listened amused. A little bit he regretted not going, it would have been really fun to see Freed playing darts when his coordination was pitiful with alcohol in his body. But it was just as nice to see him like that.

When the popcorn was finished Laxus was no longer tired, by dint of talking and listening to his friend he had woken up, so he cleaned the bowl and the pan while Freed talked to him about the game of billiards and how they had all lost to Evergreen. Once he finished cleaning the kitchen, he heard his friend yawn.

“You're finally tired, huh?” he commented turning to Freed, who had risen from his chair and was closer than he expected. The friend smiled and placed a hand on his chest.

“Thank you very much. And I'm sorry for waking you up and keeping you awake, you didn't have to” he said sincerely grateful. Laxus softened his gaze trying not to focus on how far their bodies were now inches apart.

“I know. But I'm not an asshole like you, who surely would have left me out of the building” he said and Freed chuckled.

“I wouldn't have done that, I’d have helped you. I probably would have been less willing to make popcorn and would have insulted you a lot more than you did me, but I'm not bad enough to leave you in the cold”.

“Yeah, you probably would have told me to exhaustion how irresponsible I am.”

“That I definitely would have done” Freed agreed and then smiled warmly at him. Laxus felt slightly agitated under the intense gaze of his friend, who suddenly fell silent and just looked at him. Then Freed grabbed him by the collar and pushed him towards him, bringing their lips together.

Laxus didn't take long to respond to the kiss, although he hadn't expected it. Although he felt it was wrong, because Freed was drunk. And he knew it, he should have stopped it before it got too much. But it was already too much and the feeling of Freed's lips on his thrilled him enormously. Freed put a hand through his hair, while Laxus wrapped his arms around his back. The kiss became more intense, deeper and both pushed against each other. Now Laxus could feel Freed's hand descend along the undershirt and rise under him, touching his bare skin. Too much. It was definitely too much.

Before they pushed past Laxus broke away, slightly panting and staring in surprise as Freed kept running his hand up his abs. Something that Laxus wouldn't have wanted to stop, because the feel of their bodies so close sent flashes of excitement down his body. But he had to stop it. He took his wrist and took his hand away. Freed looked up at him surprised and disappointed.

“Don't...” Laxus's voice came out hoarse. “You're drunk” he said.

“Yes, but it's something I've wanted for a while. Since you almost kissed me two months ago” Freed replied. Laxus opened his eyes slightly, while a feeling similar to euphoria filled him. “I wanted to reciprocate, but… it felt wrong” he said. Laxus swallowed hard, for now his self-control was wavering. He wanted to take his face in his hands and kiss him, because that was a statement, but Freed was still drunk anyway.

“And it was, because you had a boyfriend” he decided to say after a few seconds. Freed looked up at him. “Freed, I like you, seriously, but you're drunk, I don't want that to happen now. We can talk about it in the morning” he revealed with a hint of courage. He saw a smile open on the boy's face.

“Ok” he whispered. Laxus smiled in turn.

“Ok” he repeated. They looked at each other for a few seconds in silence, both red-faced and smiling. “Let's go to sleep” Laxus said after a while, because he was sure, if he had stayed there, he would have risked kissing him again and never stop. And he didn't want it. Not like that. Freed nodded and pulled away from him. Then they both went back to their rooms, and Laxus fell asleep with a smile.

-11-

When he woke up the next day it took him a few seconds to remember what had happened and he felt anxiety fill his chest. He was obviously happy, but now doubts assailed him. Freed had been drunk the night before, maybe he didn't really mean what he said. Obviously, he was stupid to think so, it's not that he was completely out of his mind and damn, Freed had recited the entire monologue of ‘The lord of the rings’. He obviously thought about what he said. But that didn't help him calm down. Laxus put his hands to his face and forced himself to get out of bed, when he came out of the room he smelled an inviting smell, but he forced himself to go to the bathroom and wash himself before entering the kitchen. Freed was cooking pancakes. He turned to him with his lips folded in a slight smile.

“I made you coffee” he told him, pointing to the moka pot. Laxus came over, muttering a thank you and pouring it into his cup, trying not to look too much at his friend. He definitely didn't know what to say and almost hoped he was the one doing it. He took a sip and leaned his back to the fridge, barely glancing at Freed who was placing pancakes on a plate. When he finished he turned to him and spoke.

“I'm sorry about last night” he said. Laxus just nodded and Freed went on “I haven't drunk that much in a long time, I didn't really want to wake you up, and you were kind nonetheless”.

“You've been forgiven” Laxus said, pointing to the pancakes and coffee, which he threw down in another gulp and then set the cup on the counter. Freed nodded.

“Yeah, well, I hope so” he added. The silence fell again and Laxus met his eyes for a moment, Freed was thoughtful, as if he were considering something. “About what happened next ... I didn't lie, I've wanted to do it for quite a while. Doing it drunk was stupid but… I didn't regret it. I like you Laxus, and I'd really like to try dating you” he said. A slight blush colored his cheeks, and it was evident that he was a little insecure, even if he didn’t show it openly. Laxus felt a sensation of relief and adrenaline filling his stomach. Knowing that Freed reciprocated was all too exciting. A smile broke on his face without Laxus being able to hold it back.

“Well... yes. I mean, I want to go out with you too” he said. Freed's face relaxed and a tiny smile appeared. After that Laxus put an arm around his waist and pushed him towards him kissing him. And that was even better than their first kiss. Because now there was no doubt about what they both wanted. And that sweet coffee-flavored kiss proved it.

[oloreaa]

Ven asks

I’d love some Razor crest head cannons too. I miss her 😭😭😭😭

~🐎

Ps sorry for the rapid fire but I’m still snowed under with workkkkk 🙈

Of course!! And thank you so much for sending this in🥺🥺❤ those are about 700 words of some rambling about the Ven crew and the Crest, I hope you like it💕

The Crest is, of course, cold. Space travel is cold, and not even the best heaters will prevent it from sneaking in

It's the coldest in the hull, the large room not being able to hold warmth well, and spending prolonged time there with not a sufficient amount of layers on can easily lead to one getting sick

Din has managed the carbon freezer slabs so they would not be easily turned on, neatly stacked together and a cargo hold net spanned around it so no sticky tiny hands would be able to find their way into it

The little cubicle where the little one sleeps held warmth very well, and the blanket pile that had accumulated there was the first spot they would search for when Bean is missing. It's become the little playing room for the child, where they could safely put him away whenever something happens, filled with soft pillows and blankets and plushies, some flimsi for him to draw as well.

Elana's cot outside the cubicle is still the same standard one, but the amount of blankets had increased as well

Overall, the blanket number was rising exponentially, since it was a good way to use up fabric scraps and easy to sew new ones if they manage to get a bolt of fabric. Elana usually keeps those to neutral colours so they can reuse them in different ways if necessary, but she does give in and choose soft patterns for Bean sometimes. (He has yet to convince her to buy something with a frog pattern on it. It was only a matter of time, though)

The Crest has showers and cleaning utensils, thank you very much. There is a tiny sonic, a small wash basin with actual water, a mirror cabinet hanging above the wash basin. In it, basic things, soaps and toothbrushes and razors. After they get more comfortable with each other, Elana's combs and pins and hair oils are stored in there as well, to keep them out of reach from a particular curious child.

They have little utensils for food. A water boiler, a little microwave, but no actual stove. They often just make due with rations and soup, which was enough, but sometimes they try to get fresh food from the local markets on the planet they're on, and depending on how experimental they want to become, they roast meat and vegetables with the Crest's hyperdrive

The ladders bite into one's hands when they pull themselves up and down, but after a while those movements became natural, easily able to move into the cockpit and back to the hull even with little Bean in their arms

It might surprise other people, but the cockpit is actually very comfortable when spending a lot of time in it. There are a lot of things Bean should not touch, and the chairs are not very soft, but it was nice there. Warmer than in the hull, with a large viewport, and sometimes they just spend hours there watching the stars and talking to each other and playing with Bean. It's by far the most interesting room, and Din makes an effort to stop near nebulas or other natural phenomena so the little one can see it, and it switches up the monotony on the ship

Elana has never been in Din's quarters before, but although she is curious, she never asks. It's the only place he truly has for himself, where he can take off both his helmet and armour and actually relax, and she doesn't want to intrude on his privacy. Never mind that she doesn't get much as well, but it's just due to the fact that the Crest is not actually a ship made for a little family

But still, it manages, and so do the people inside. The Crest is old and doesn't work sometimes, but with every passing day, it becomes more and more of a home, and it has been a long time since Elana really felt at home

[angst-fairygodmother]

Light Fingers (The Umbrella Academy)

Diego’s vigilantism brings him repeatedly across the path of a young cat burglar. But as he finds himself developing feelings for the thief, he begins to wonder if there’s more to her than meets the eye, and whether they’re really on opposite sides. And as their relationship deepens, it brings with it a plot involving his estranged adopted father, and threatens to destroy all of them.

CHAPTER 5: REVELATIONS

Word Count: 4471  Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x Reader; teased Eudora Patch x Reader Rating: M Content Warnings: fairly graphic description of injury, blood, language Cross-posted to AO3: here

Previous Chapter: Allegiances || Masterlist

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The first thing you were aware of was the high, tinny ringing. It was quite possibly the most annoying noise you had ever heard, and you were pretty sure it was coming from inside your own head so you couldn’t cover your ears and make it go away. Your eyelids felt heavy, like there was something keeping them from opening, and your mouth felt cottony. Your stomach roiled with nausea. The more of your body returned to your awareness the worse you felt.

“Ugh,” you groaned, voice cracking from disuse. As you forced your eyes to open, thankful that your power even in its most dormant form kept the light from burning them, you registered the meeting of concrete and grey-brown bricks wavering in your vision.

You tried to push yourself to a seated position and immediately felt resistance.

“Woah, hey, you shouldn’t move so fast,” Diego said, pressing lightly on your shoulder to hold you in place.

“Am I in your weird boiler room house?” you slurred. “How did I get here?”

You heard him chuckle. “Well after you passed out, I figured you could use some looking after…and then when you weren’t waking up…I was getting ready to take you to a hospital.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that sounded like you were worried about me,” you smirked, throwing back his own words at him.

“I was,” he said softly, almost as if he was talking to himself. “Of course I was.”

You found yourself at a loss for words, and not just because your head was still fuzzy and ringing (the feeling was fading some the longer you were awake).

“How are you feeling?”

“Like death slightly warmed over.”

He grimaced.

“Seriously, two questions: how long was I out for, and why does my leg still feel like it’s on fire?”

“It’s been a few hours. That’s why I was…”

“Worried?” you supplied as he floundered.

He nodded sheepishly. “Yeah. As for your leg, you did get shot. It was pretty bad. I stopped the bleeding but the bullet is…still in there.”

“What?!” you jolted up at that, ignoring the pain and spinning sensation, staring at Diego in shock.

“I didn’t want to do anything while you were unconscious! In case you’d prefer an actual doctor do it or something went…wrong…” you registered the tinge of fear in his voice and felt a little less mad at him for leaving a hunk of metal embedded in your calf muscle.

“Well…I’m awake now so if you think you can get it out safely…I trust you to,” you admitted softly, reaching out to rest your hand on top of his where it sat on your bedside.

It was then you registered that not only were you lying in his bed, but he was kneeling awkwardly beside it, and probably had been since before you woke up. Your heart fluttered at the thought that he had been watching over you, taking care of you.

“Are you sure?”

“Yep. Definitely.” You shot him a grin that you hoped looked convincing and not as crazed as you felt in that moment.

He nodded, rising from his crouch and wincing in a way that, once again, suggested he had been in the position for a while, moving about the fairly small room gathering the first aid supplies he’d need. Your eyes traced him as he washed everything down with rubbing alcohol and soap and water, as he pulled on a pair of cheap rubber gloves, and returned to your side.

“You’re going to have to turn for me to get to the wound,” he said, gesturing. “And so I can put down a towel so you don’t bleed everywhere.”

You rolled your eyes, complying with his direction.

“I notice you don’t have any lidocaine or anything there in your little bullet treatment kit…” you observed, biting your lip nervously.

“No, sorry. I could go out and get some, but it’s late so I don’t know what’s open and the sooner we get the bullet out the better.”

“It’s fine,” you said, your voice rising an octave, betraying your fear.

He knelt back down, carefully unwinding the bandage. You couldn’t help but stare down at the inflamed skin, the horribly red, still sluggishly bleeding opening in your leg, stomach turning at the thought that it was an actual hole through skin and muscle, and you were lucky not bone and not anywhere more severe than your lower leg. Diego, noticing your expression, reached over to give your hand a quick squeeze before turning to the work.

You hissed, doing everything in your power not to flinch away as Diego rested his hands on your calf.

“I’m s-sorry,” he murmured, and you frowned, catching the slight stutter in his voice, something which you hadn’t noticed before.

“It’s okay. It’s…are you sure you can do this?”

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah, I mean, I’ve dug bullets out of myself before so…”

“Okay, gonna revisit that later, but for now, I trust you. I still wish we had something to numb the pain first though…”

After that, things became a bit of a blur. You were pretty sure at some point you screamed. It felt like your leg was being rent open by the fiery claws of the devil. You must have passed out again, because the next thing you remembered was someone lightly tapping on your cheek and opening your eyes to see Diego’s face, eyes wide in panic and lip quivering, swimming into focus.

“Fuck me with a cactus, it would have been gentler,” you muttered, wincing. “At least tell me it’s over?”

He smiled, chuckling at your colorful phrasing. “Yeah, bullet’s out, pretty cleanly and I redressed the wound. Now you just need to rest and recover and keep it clean so it doesn’t get infected.”

“Well, thank you then, Doctor Hargreeves. I guess I owe you one, and should get out of your hair.” You shifted like you were going to try to get to your feet and he immediately reached out to stop you.

“You’re not…bothering me. And I’d rather know you were okay. Besides, there’s no way you can walk on that yet. Just…get some sleep.”

“You look almost as exhausted as I feel, and there’s not exactly another bed around…” you pointed out, watching him blush and look away with a slight flush of your own.

“I’ll sleep on the floor. It’s fine.”

“Diego…” you started to protest, but were cut off by a rapid knocking sound.

“Diego, you can’t keep avoiding me,” Patch called, from the other side of the boiler room door. “I know you were at the bank robbery so I need a statement, before someone else issues a warrant.”

“Really?” you groaned. “Terrible timing, Officer.”

“Relax, Eudora is…was…she’s fine. You’ll be fine,” Diego mumbled half-heartedly, moving to open the door and let her in.

You glared at his back as he did so, annoyed that he had managed to avoid the conversation entirely, and once again you two had danced, just out of each other’s reach. You shifted hastily and tugged at the quilt at the end of the bed to try and hide your injury without causing too much pain. Still, you whimpered softly, catching both their attention as she entered the little room.

“Y/N?! What the hell happened?” she said, rushing over to you.

“Heeey, Dora. Oh this?” you gestured down to your leg and the small spot of red seeping through the gauze. “Bank robbers. No respect,” you said with a forced chuckle and a shake of your head. You felt your head swim a little at the movement and began to regret expending the energy so quickly after the secondary trauma of Diego’s impromptu surgery. “Luckily it was just a little bullet and Diego here doesn’t make a bad triage nurse.”

“Wait you two know each other?” he asked, his tone maybe as much frightened as confused.

“While you were off the grid, we hung out. Dora’s great,” you said, flashing her a wink over his shoulder and giggling at his stunned expression, feeling strangely giddy.

“Y/N,” she sighed. “I think you need a hospital, not a little first aid from this idiot.”

“Nah, I’m fine. Why do you say that?”

“You just ‘winked’ with both eyes. And you look a little green around the gills.”

“Still knew I was winking though,” you smirked before frowning in puzzlement. “But I don’t have gills…”

You didn’t catch her response, or Diego’s as the darkness rushed back in to claim you and you slumped back into his bed.

~

Patch was headed for the payphone in the hall, probably to call an ambulance, while Diego hesitated, torn between stopping her and making sure Y/N was alright.

“Eudora, don’t,” he finally managed to get out. “She won’t appreciate it.”

“She won’t appreciate anything if she dies of blood loss,” Patch shot back, glaring at him. “Besides it’s just a hospital, what’s the problem?”

He sighed. None of this was his to tell. Y/N might never forgive him. But still, he had to try and make Eudora understand. He gestured for her to come sit beside him.

“Look. It’s not a serious wound. I’m pretty sure her exhaustion and slipping in and out of consciousness is from stress. I don’t think she’s ever…done something like that before.”

“Like what, Diego? Been in a bank robbery?”

“No,” he shook his head and his voice was soft as he continued, “stopped one.”

“I don’t understand.” Patch was frowning, that confused little furrow forming between her brows which Diego (and you) secretly found cute.

“You remember how I told you about my siblings and me?”

“Yeah your Umbrella School or whatever…”

“Academy.” He frowned at how quickly the correction, almost a defense, jumped out.

She rolled her eyes.

“Anyway, there were more kids that my father couldn’t get.”

“Are you saying Y/N has superpowers like you do?”

“Not just like mine but…yeah. She can control light or something. She had a more scientific explanation.” He shrugged.

“So the flares that stunned the robbers, and several hostages…?” There was something like awe on Patch’s face.

“Were her. When they turned a gun on that kid…she just reacted.”

“Shit.” Patch rocked back on her heels, pinching the bridge of her nose the way she always did when she was stressed, and Diego knew at least part of her was trying to figure out how that was going to screw with the reports, or if she was just going to conveniently leave it out. “But what does this have to do with taking her to the hospital?”

“She’s not…trusting doctors and hospitals is hard when you’ve got a big secret like this, especially when it contributes to the problem you need treated. Plus she’s stubborn; she won’t like being forced to accept help.”

She bit her lip. “I don’t like this at all. But if you’re sure…?”

He met her eye sincerely. “I am.”

She watched as Diego returned to his ministrations, checking your pulse and adjusting the bandages, which you had managed to rumple in your shifting about, such that the long gauze strips no longer fully covered the wound.

“You’re pretty good at that,” Patch mused. “And it’s obvious that you care a lot about Y/N.”

“You’re one to talk. You never let me call you ‘Dora.’”

She blushed, looking away. “It’s not like that. Not… really. Nothing like what’s between you and her.”

“There’s nothing…we’re n-not…” Diego suddenly found himself unable to look at either woman.

He had been in love with Eudora, once, and still felt strongly for her, even if the romantic connection between them had been severed and probably wouldn’t ever come back together. But there was something about Y/N that just felt right. She made him feel seen and understood and like he didn’t need to still be ‘Number Two of The Umbrella Academy,’ he could just be Diego. She made him smile, more freely than he could remember doing in years. He’d missed her terribly while he was away, while they weren’t speaking to one another, like there had been a piece of him missing. When he’d seen her collapse, he had felt like his heart stopped. But she also scared him. They were so different, so incompatible on paper. And he thought that having her just to lose her might actually kill him, so maybe it was better not to go there at all.

“Relax, Diego,” Patch said with a slight laugh, pulling his attention back to the room and her. “It wasn’t an accusation. I’m happy for you. And I like Y/N. She’ll keep you on your toes.”

He opened his mouth to deny once again that there was anything going on between the two of you, to assure her, but she shook her head and rolled her eyes affectionately. Still he blundered onward, changing tactics slightly but still determined to deny what he knew was real, what Patch could see with her own two eyes.

“She probably doesn’t even—“

Patch held up a hand to cut him off again. “Don’t give me that. Don’t use the excuse of not knowing what you could easily find out.”

“It’s not that simple, Eudora,” he sighed.

“Nothing about love ever is.” She stood up, brushing non-existent dirt off her pant legs. “I need to get back to work, but I hope you give what I said some thought at least. For both of your sakes.”

‘Love.’ The word echoed through Diego’s mind, but not in a way that felt intimidating or worrying. It felt more like suddenly having a name for the feeling he knew was there, like hearing someone else say it made it real. But that didn’t mean he wanted to say it out loud. Or did he?

~

The world swam slowly into existence for a third time, and you groaned, sick of the feeling as much as you were suffering any ill effects. Cautiously, you propped yourself up on your elbows, and the movement caught Diego’s attention. Almost immediately, he was up out of the chair he’d been sitting in and crouched by your side.

“How long was I out for?” you asked, hesitantly, ignoring the way your heart fluttered at his closeness and how quickly he’d jumped to your side.

“Do you mean since Patch made you swoon or in general?” he teased, smiling.

You rolled your eyes. “She did not make me swoon. Although if anyone’s swoon-worthy…but no, I mean how long have I been in the Bat Cave, total?”

“You’ve been in and out for…two days or so.”

“Two…shit!” you bolted upright, trying to get to your feet despite Diego fighting you on it. “I need to go, and hope I haven’t been fired yet.”

“You need to rest! And why does it matter to you so much if you lose your job?”

“What do you mean why does it matter? I need that job. You know for rent, and food, and generally being able to survive.”

He frowned, clearly confused. “I don’t understand.”

“That’s a reoccurring thing for you it seems. What exactly has you confused this time Hargreeves?”

“You’re a thief. You’ve stolen plenty. Why does a dead end job matter to you?”

“Are you serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve tried to figure it out: why you work at the diner, why you’re always wearing the same faded sweatshirt and jeans when you’re not working. You’ve got all that money…”

“Is my sense of fashion actually being judged by a man who wears leather like it’s a uniform and not just an uncomfortable invitation to awkward sweat?”

“It is a uniform. And you’re avoiding the question.”

You rolled your eyes. “Self-imposed means it’s not a uniform. Just a…fashion?...choice.” You cocked your head to one side and intentionally exaggerated the question in your tone, making it clear to him what you thought of his pick of attire. He certainly wasn’t wearing it for comfort.

“You’re really going to insult me after I saved your life?”

“You really think I steal for myself?”

“Who else would you be stealing for?”

“Saving lives isn’t always just stabbing and punching bad guys.” Your eyes flickered away from his face, fixing on some invisible point over his shoulder.

“What?”

You shrugged. “I support myself with a day job and then at night, I take from rich assholes who really don’t need it, or deserve to hurt, and I give it to people that need.”

He fell silent, frowning and avoiding eye contact.

“Well, you don’t have to worry,” he said eventually, pointedly ignoring your revelation. “Patch called in sick for you.”

“A police officer calling me in sick? Great now they’re definitely going to think I’m a criminal and fire me.”

“You are a criminal.”

You glared at him, wishing you had something to throw, especially when your reaction made him chuckle.

“She told them you were a witness and were in protective custody. You should be good for a week.”

“So dramatic.” You rolled your eyes. “Thanks, I guess.”

“It was…her idea…” for some reason he wouldn’t meet your eyes again, and you were pretty sure he was lying to you.

“I don’t just mean the work thing,” you said, fiddling with your fingers. “You didn’t have to help me out. You could have left me in the bank, or dumped me on the EMTs.”

He shifted, sitting awkwardly on the edge of the mattress and twisting to face you, instead of kneeling beside you. Hesitantly, he reached out catching an errant strand of your hair between his fingers and twirling it distractingly. Only a stubbornness warring with yourself (and maybe a fear that if you moved too quickly you would pass out again) kept you from launching yourself forward to press your lips to his. You hated how his proximity and the subtle scent of him made your heart race, how he made you feel weak and dizzy in a way that was entirely separate from the blood loss.

As you sat there, not quite locking eyes, each watching each other, it dawned on you that you might actually love him. Strangely, it sent a sensation of calm flooding over you. It just made sense, so there was no point in fighting it, just deciding what to do with it.

“I saw your eyes when you were talking about what you thought they might do if someone found out you had powers,” he explained finally, reluctantly letting his hand drop back to his side. “I didn’t want to be the reason you were that scared.”

“Oh.” The word felt small and inadequate.

You reached out hesitantly, to rest your hand on his where it sat between you. He turned his up so that your palms were touching and laced his fingers through yours. You both sat there staring at your joined hands, each trying to figure out what it meant to yourselves and to each other.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there in the heavy, waiting silence. Finally Diego cleared his throat and pulled away, standing up.

“Are you hungry? I’m going to go out and get you some food, so you can get your strength back up,” he said awkwardly. “You should get some more rest.”

“Right, sure,” you frowned, biting back the questions dancing on your tongue. “Thanks…”

~

The next few days passed much the same way, with you trying to rest and recover, and Diego doing what he could to help you, including helping you change your bandages and giving you a literal hand when you started testing your weight on it finally. The thread of tension running between you was pulled taut and you waited for it to snap. Until, finally you couldn’t take it anymore.”

“Diego,” you started as you stood next to him, his forearm in a vice grip as you wobbled on your right foot and haltingly placed your left one on the cold concrete.

“Don’t start thanking me again, Y/N,” he said, shaking his head ruefully. “I keep telling you it’s no big deal.”

“Diligently nursing me back to health from a gunshot wound is no big deal?” you asked with a raised eyebrow and a demanding sharpness to your tone.

“No. It lets me know you’re okay.” He tried to shrug without moving the arm you were using for balance, resulting in a very awkward gesture and you giggled at it. “I’d do the same for anyone I cared so much about.”

You hobbled yourself around to be facing him, face blushing hotly. “You care about me?”

“O-o-of…c-c-c…” he gaped and floundered and the stutter that you had quickly come to recognize as a sign of his nervousness or uncertainty in himself was sharp.

“Relax, Diego. I care about you to, I just…it’s nice to hear it confirmed that the feeling’s mutual,” you smiled and gave a little shrug.

He stared at you, eyes roving your face as if searching for something. Whatever it was, he must have found it, because the next thing you knew, his free hand was cupping your jaw, thumb trailing across your cheek. And then his lips were on yours and the time for thinking or knowing was past you.

Your grip tightened further on his arm and the other hand curled around his shoulders, dragging yourself closer as his tongue parted your lips in askance, diving in to tangle with yours when you opened so willingly in answer, a moan escaping you only to be swallowed in his kiss. His arm slipped your grip to wrap around your waist as he felt you buckle, whether under the strain on your leg or the intensity of the kiss was uncertain and irrelevant to you both. Slowly, he backed up toward the threadbare chair in the corner of the room, dropping back into it and pulling you down onto his lap. You tangled your hands into his close-cropped hair, carding and tugging gently at it, making him groan, and his hands ran ticklishly up and down your sides.

Reluctantly, you pulled back, panting for air through your kiss-bruised lips.

“What the fuck was that?” you asked, eyebrow raised and staring down at him.

“I think I’ve wanted to do that for six months now,” he murmured in response, gaze adoring as he met your eyes.

“I’ve certainly been waiting for you to. Maybe I should get shot more often.”

“Don’t even joke…”

“So what changed? Was it just about admitting that I cared too?”

“Yeah, I guess. Or, actually, I think it was something Eudora said when she was here. Something she made me see…I don’t know…” he shifted uncomfortably as if trying to get away from your vision and his voice had just enough of a hitch that you knew that his stutter would come out soon if you kept pushing.

So instead, you gently brushed your fingers along his jaw to turn his head back to you.

“Don’t worry about it, you don’t have to explain…I just…I’m glad we finally got here. Now kiss me again.”

He smirked, arms curling around your back to draw you downward. “If you insist.”

~

A few hours later, you both sat at his little table, picking at your takeout.

“So, you have to get back to work soon…” he started awkwardly.

“Yep. I mean, it was a nice week hiding out in the Bat Cave, but I knew I’d to get back to reality eventually.”

“What will you do about, you know, the other thing?”

“Why? So you know when to go back to failing to catch me?” you teased, cocking you head at him with a smirk.

“No. I just know you could be using your powers differently, so I thought…maybe after everything you might have changed your mind on it.”

You growled in frustration, dropping the cheap plastic fork you had been using to nose the vegetables around in your lo mein. “Not this again, Diego.”

“I’m just saying…”

“Well I really wish you wouldn’t. You can’t say you care about me and expect me to believe that, no matter how sweet you are, when you turn around and try to change me with every second breath.” You heard your voice crack, and fought back the accompanying tears of anger. You had thought, no hoped, that now that your feelings were out in the open, he would be more accepting.

“I’m not trying to change you! I just saw what you did at the bank—“

“What? Nearly kill myself? I spent two days slipping in and out of consciousness! I’m going to probably be limping for weeks. I am NEVER doing that again.”

“You can take direct action to save lives! Isn’t that worth a little risk?”

“Why don’t you ask your brother that?” You instantly regretted the words as they slipped off your tongue.

Immediately, it was like sheet-metal shutters slammed shut behind his eyes, those warm chocolate eyes that you loved so much now gone and stony.

“Shit. No, Diego, I…I didn’t mean that…or I kind of did, but I had no right…”

His jaw twitched but he didn’t speak.

“Fuck. I fucked everything up already. Shit. Please say something? Even if you want to tell me off, which I totally deserve…please?”

“We need to change the bandages on your leg.” His voice was flat. You had heard security alarms with more emotion.

“Oh. Right.” You sighed, twisting awkwardly to pull yourself out from under the table and give him access to the wound.

“Then I think you should go.”

You were silent for a moment, watching him closely as he rounded the table and carefully unwound the gauze from your leg.

“No,” you said softly. “I don’t think I should.”

He turned his head up to look at you, mouth agape.

“We keep doing this Diego. Every time there’s something between us, we end up snapping at each other and saying something that hurts the other person and shutting each other out. And I don’t want to do that again. I really like you, and I trust you and I want to be around you, like all the time, and that’s all new and confusing and…terrifying. But I don’t want to lose it.”

“What are you saying?”

“That we should, maybe, talk this out like adults this time?” you smiled sheepishly, hesitantly.

Silence rang over the room, but you felt gentle hands on your leg as he continued to inspect how your leg was healing.

“You’re…right. We should…talk,” he said finally, and you felt the relief settle over your body, tension dropping away.

“Glad you agree,” you said with a slight smile.

[varibean]

Try Turning It Off And On Again

This was my piece for the tangled dreams zine that can be found here! I wanted to try writing a bit of Team Awesome/Dadgene so I hope y’all enjoy and lmk what you think! 

Read On AO3

It was no small exaggeration to say that, on paper, Varian was living a near perfect life. It was hard to imagine the boy-or as his father so often called him, ‘young man’-wanting for anything and for the most part he didn’t. After the battle with Zhan Tiri and the terrifying day of the eclipse, all of his dreams had been practically handed to him on a silver platter. Royal Engineer, renowned alchemist, best friend to several important people; with all that under his belt it was hard to imagine him not being in a constant state of euphoria over how well his life was playing out. Especially after his rocky start.

However if someone was to catch him in the early hours of the morning, they would be led to think that nothing had ever gone right in the history of his entire life.

It wasn’t a fact of Varian not being a morning person that was the issue but rather the sheer number of things he had to do once he got up. Early on in his career as royal engineer, Rapunzel thought it to be a great idea that he live in the palace with them. He’d been excited about the prospect at first; getting to live close with his greatest friends? Spending his days working on machines? Winding down at night in the grand ballroom for dinner? Absolutely perfect.

What he hadn’t considered was the fact that, by living in the palace, he was essentially on the clock twenty-four seven. Every morning when he woke up he skipped his usual routine of combing his hair or brushing his teeth in favor of opening up his bedroom door. That action was always greeted with a pile of neatly placed but still numerous scrolls, all left behind by the morning castle page. Each one was either a task, request, or order form filed by any and all who needed his service. It was only after he picked them all up and read through them that he continued his other morning tasks.

Life at the castle was more boring than he’d ever considered life in a castle could be. The whole place worked like clockwork and not the fun kind. The only thing that broke up the monotony of the place was Rapunzel, with her always chipper nature, and Eugene, who often tagged along with her despite his own duties as Captain of the Guard. But even that small burst of excitement was becoming less and less as time went on. Less Rapunzel, less Eugene, more work.

When Varian first arrived, everything had been wonderful and new. The scrolls at his doorstep were exciting projects, not boring chores. He had time for his own inventions and endeavors no matter how small they were, and most importantly, he got to spend time with his friends. All of those things were slowly fading, dwindling in time and importance as his daily tasks grew and grew. When writing his father about it, the older man simply replied that it was all part of growing up. Varian hated that. Still, the days dragged on, the ever steady pace of the castle completely uncaring to his internal plight of drudgery.

____

It was on a day of heavy rain and wind when Varian got the notice that something was wrong with the boilers. Nothing major enough to cause an entire village to explode, he’d been sure to put that safety precaution in place, but enough to warrant a knock on his door as he was preparing for lunch. No ham sandwich break for him today.

Apparently some rainwater had managed to seep through the shallow earth and gotten into the underground reservoir used to fill the tankers, in turn causing them to overflow. It wasn’t the overflow that was causing any structural issues, the machines wouldn’t rust overnight after all, but it was causing an imbalance in the chemical reaction. Too much water meant there was more liquid than the chemicals could properly heat, leaving everyone with lukewarm water. Tragic.

Duty called though and lunch would have to wait.

“Lukewarm water. Oh”, Varian said sarcastically to Ruddiger as he prepared to go down and find the leaky bit of earth that was causing the problem, “The horror of it all.”

The people of Corona could survive a day or two without hot water, but why should they when they had a Royal Engineer at their disposal? Nevermind the fact that he was a person too, who was currently missing out on his meal so that everyone else could wash their hands in comfort.

He bit back the desire to spout out another sarcastic comment to his furry companion, knowing that he was just being unreasonably bitter because he was hungry. Food would still be there when he got done; the longer he ignored the problem the worse it would get. In all fairness, it took priority. Besides, something like sealing up a bit of loose earth and diverting the dripping water from the tankers would be an easy fix. He could do it in his sleep.

____

Varian had been correct in assuming that the boiler problem would be an easy fix, maybe slightly tedious at best. What he hadn’t accounted for was how difficult it would be to simply get down to the reservoirs in the first place.

The problems started the second he stepped out of his room and into the main hallways of the castle. Ruddiger trotted beside him happily, the fat animal knowing that his only job was companionship and nothing more. Given the time of day and the raininess outside the place was busier than it normally was. Gardeners muttered over their tools, maids rushed to clean up dirt and grime that had been tracked in, and all the other servants began to hustle and bustle around in order to make sure that everyone was safe and well attended to.

It shouldn’t have been a long trek, just a few turns before getting to the downstairs, but the trip was elongated by everyone constantly bumping into him and pushing him aside.

Despite being a respected member of the staff, he was still just a boy in many of their eyes. He glared at the people who brushed past him, knowing that he’d helped each one of them with at least half a dozen things at some point or another. They’d been perfectly kind to him then but now he was nothing more than another body blocking their way. It was easy to be nice to someone while they were doing something for you and even easier to ignore them when the time was over.

Half way through the crowd to his destination he felt a hand grip at his arm and turning around he was met with the stern face of a maid, face flushed with frustration.

“Excuse me young man, you’re the Royal Engineer correct?”

Her voice was twice as haughty as she looked, speaking as if she couldn’t believe that she had to stoop to the level of talking to him in the first place.

“Varian. Just Varian.” He didn’t have time to deal with whatever nonsense the woman needed him for even though he had a sneaking suspicion that he was about to be given no choice.

He was quickly proven right as the woman gave a soft huff and pulled him alongside her to whatever issue she needed fixed. For a moment he considered squirming out of her grasp or maybe telling her that he was busy but as nice as those both seemed he knew that it would only come back to bite him in one form or another. If he didn’t fix whatever problem she had now then he would have to do it later. He was already missing lunch, might as well make the most of things.

She all but shoved him into one of main rooms, where he was met with several maids and servants covered in dust and circled around one of his many machines.

Ah , he thought, That explains a lot.

“Your blasted machine blew up. How are we supposed to clean up dust when the device that you made to help does nothing but blow it back in our faces?” The woman huffed as she crossed her arms.

Varian would have rather been scolded by old lady Crowley than whoever this woman was. At least Crowley didn’t balk like a fish when she was angry.

“Have you tried turning it on and off again?” Varian tried to joke to lighten the mood, but was met with only a cold shoulder and a stifled chitter from Ruddiger.

Eugene or Rapunzel would’ve found it funny.

He signed while leaning down to the device and fixing it up with one very simple step: Flipping the switch from ‘blow’ to ‘suck’.

“Let me know if you have any actual problems with it ma’am. Sadly, even I can’t fix operator errors.”

He skittered out of the room before anyone could berate him for his mouth. He smirked to himself, thinking how funny one of his friends would find that line. That was only the beginning of his troubles though.

It seemed that every step he took towards the boilers, someone needed his assistance.

Nigel’s mechanical pen needed the ink chamber fixed, Hope needed the automatic laundry cart’s wheel to be tightened, one of the chefs needed more preservation chemicals to keep the food fresh until next week.

By the time he actually got to the door to the boiler room it was well past his lunch break, time slowly and steadily creeping towards dinner. Hours of helping crowds of people with their problems and all that just so he could get to the actual problem of the day.

But yet again, right when he was about to turn the knob on the door and enter the stairwell for the boilers at long last, another hand grasped at his arm.

“Hey there buddy-”

“For the sun’s sake I just need to fix one stupid problem!” Varian shouted, turning around to face the stranger who’d grabbed him only to find that it wasn’t a stranger at all.

Instead he was met with Eugene’s surprised and amused face looking down at him, red uniform dampened slightly from the outside rain and hair slicked back in an admittedly stylish fashion.

“Well hello to you too short stack.” Eugene’s response was met with a groan as Varain pushed in the door and began to descend into the underground area. “Rough day?”

“Not more than any other day here.”

“So I’ll take that as a yes. What’re you doing going to the boilers so late, it’s almost chow time kiddo. You know how your dad will chew us out if we don’t get you your three squares a day.”

Even with Eugene’s joking nature Varian could hear a bit of sincerity in his words. He couldn’t bear the thought of confessing that he hadn’t gotten a chance to eat lunch. Instead he just kept walking downwards, the other man following close behind with Ruddiger.

“The rain cracked through one of the underground tunnel walls, which has been causing the small reservoir down there to flow faster. It’s overfilling the machines which means the formula for heating them isn’t working and that means a bunch of people upset at me until I can fix it.”

“Well of course, can’t imagine what a tragedy it must be to go a full day with only lukewarm water.” Eugene’s tone was sarcastic, mimicking Varian’s earlier sentiments on the matter.

Despite the day he had, the alchemist laughed. Of course Eugene of all people would share his same sense of humor at the situation.

“It wouldn’t be so bad if people would just let me get down here in the first place.”

“Nah, they can’t make it too easy on you kiddo, that’ll just make you go soft.”

Another chuckle rang out against the walls. It was more than Varian had laughed in probably an entire week. Suddenly the task of fixing a leak didn’t seem so bad; having company helped and though he loved Ruddiger to pieces, there was only so much conversation that a single raccoon could have.

“So what do we have to do to fix it?” Eugene asked after the laughter had settled and the two made it to the bottom of the steps, leading to the underground tunnels.

“I’m just going to put some of my newest solution on the crack and up the Flynnolium for a few hours. That’ll give everything time to reset by morning and then I’ll adjust the Flynnolium solution release back down to four percent per tanker. And it’ll also give everyone else ample time to find something new to yell at me about.”

Though he spoke with a joking tone he could see the flash of concern that drifted over Eugene’s face, making him instantly regret saying anything at all. He didn’t want to appear ungrateful to the older man; he really did love his job even with the few pitfalls that came with it. His snark was nothing more than the result of a little stress. That’s what he told himself at least.

The rest of the walk was short and comfortably chatty, Eugene going on about his latest guard duties while Varian laughed and ribbed him on his work ethic. It was nice to finally get some time to talk to his friend again, Team Awesome. He almost didn’t want his work day to be finished but the fixes he needed to implement were easy; it had just taken him forever to get down to do them. Just as soon as the two (plus Ruddgier) had made it to the caves, they were back to the top of the staircase.

“Well kid,” Eugene started, “now that we’ve got that all done let’s go get some grub. Don’t want to keep everyone else waiting.”

Eugene began to walk in the direction of the dining hall but Varian stayed put. He was hungry, that much was for sure, but he’d spent all day around people. Being around them, fixing their problems, having them bump into him and squawk at him. It was nice to spend some time with just Eugene but an entire room full of more people...now that was something different entirely.

“Actually I still have some leftovers from lunch in my room.” By which, of course, he meant his entire lunch. “I’m not that hungry anyways so I think I’m going to pass tonight, tell everyone I said hi.”

“Are you sure? Heard there was going to be cookies tonight-”

“Yeah, don’t-don’t worry about me it’s just been...been a really long day.”

Varian mustered up his best smile and gave a thumbs up as he walked away before Eugene could say anything else.

It had been a nice reprieve from his regular day to day drudgery, but it was time to go to bed and start the whole process over again tomorrow.

____

When Varian woke up the next morning he wasn’t tired which was his first clue that something was wrong. He stretched and yawned, squinting as the sun shone brightly through his window which was the second clue.

The third, and by far the most obvious clue, came when he cleared his nose and sniffed a few times and was met with the scent of fresh ham and eggs. Turning to his night stand he saw a brilliantly decorated tray of toast, butter, and scrambled eggs with ham and tomato slices mixed in.

“What in the-oh shit!” Next to the delicious smelling breakfast was his alarm clock which had apparently not gone off despite having wound it up the night before, seeing how the time displayed on it read 11:12. He was late, beyond late. It was nearly noon, he would never hear the end of it. Not only that, but there was a bigger issue at hand.

“The Flynnolium!” He darted up out of bed, not even bothering to put on his work clothes or brush his hair.

He nearly tripped over his own feet trying to reach the door. When he opened it, however, he ran face first into a solid body, sending him reeling back from the impact.

“Well good morning there sleepy head. Man, you really must’ve been worn out to sleep that long huh? Any sweet dreams?” The voice was calm and teasing with just a hint of sincerity playing against the tone of a smile.

“Eugene!” Varian steadied himself and once again tried to get by him. “I can’t talk right now, I have to go. I overslept somehow and-and the Flynnolium has been set on high for too long, I need to get down there and-”

“Set it back to four percent per tanker? Already taken care of buddy. Now come on, I worked all morning on that breakfast and you haven’t even touched it. Well, the royal chef worked all morning on it but I was in the room so i’m pretty sure that counts for something. Supervising, you know, is a very important part of the process.”

“Wha…”

Varian couldn’t even finish his sentence as Eugene guided him back to his bed and sat him down, moving the breakfast tray onto his lap.

“Well don’t sit there wasting all that hard work, dig in.”

“But I don’t...I don’t understand how-what the hell is going on?”

“Language.” Eugene chidded jokingly before sitting down beside the other, “I noticed you seemed a little stressed yesterday. So, I took it upon myself to give you the day off. Woke up this morning and turned the Flynnolium down. Bribed Ruddiger with a few apples to get him to turn your clock off and let you sleep in.”

Varian looked down at the food in his lap, speechless. He hadn’t been that tired, had he?

“Why though?” He asked, quizzically picking up a slice of toast and slowly biting it.

“I just told you, you’re stressed. We’re Team Awesome and Team Awesome looks out for each other.”

Varian continued to crunch slowly and Eugene let out a soft sigh before putting his hand on the other’s back.

“I know the people here demand a lot from you. It would be a big adjustment for anyone just to exist around this place, let alone be the Royal Engineer. Doing projects every day, people only giving you the time of day when they need you, running around like Pascal chasing after a fly. And I know I...probably haven’t helped much in that regard either. You’re the Royal Engineer because Rapunzel and I know you can handle it. But just because you can handle it on your own doesn’t mean you should have to.”

The more Eugene spoke the more Varian relaxed, shoveling more food into his mouth as he got more comfortable.

“Fankfs.” He said, his cheeks full like chipmunks, causing Eugene to laugh.

“No problem buddy. Anyways, like I was saying, I’m sorry I haven’t been around as much-”

“That’s not your fault.”

“No, but it is my fault for not trying harder. And for not realizing how tough things have been on you. So, here’s the plan, once a week from now on you’re getting a full twenty-four hours of off time. Maybe after a few of those and we’ll finally have you back on a decent sleeping schedule. Anyone who interrupts it gets thrown in the dungeon, my royal decree as Captain.”

“I don’t think Captains can make royal decrees.” Varian stated flatly, suppressing a smirk.

“Ok smart mouth, well they can now. You have the rest of the day off.”

There was a comfortable silence for a moment as Varian finished eating, setting aside the tray and closing his eyes. He leaned against Eugene’s shoulder, content and full and happy.

“Thanks Eugene.”

“Anytime kiddo. Team Awesome?”

Eugene extended his fist and Varian happily, if not a bit tiredly, pounded it with his own.

“Team Awesome. Now, since I have the rest of the day off…” In a split second Varian was falling back against his bed, rolling himself up in the blankets pillows, “I’m going back to sleep.”

Eugene laughed and playfully shoved his shoulder.

“Lazy bones. Well, have sweet dreams. Sugar plum fairies and all that.”

“Nah, I’m going to be dreaming of cute blonds who look like Flynn Rider and take me on daring adventures.”

That caused Eugene to laugh even louder.

“Wow, you really are such a teenager aren’t you? Well tell dream hotshot that if he wants your fantasy hand in marriage he’s going to have to get through me first.”

“And my dad.” Varian joked bluntly.

“Personally I think I’m the more important one to impress but, yeah, that guy too-” Suddenly a pillow hit Eugene’s face, muffling his chuckles, “Ok ok I get the message, I’m leaving, I’m leaving.”

“Eugene?”

“Yes sleeping beauty?”

“Thanks, I needed this.”

“Any time kiddo. Love ya.”

As Eugene closed the door, Varian closed his eyes, sinking down into his mattress and into a day of blissful sleep.

“Love you too.”

By the time Varian got the drowsy words out, Eugene was already gone, but it didn’t matter. He already knew.

[birth-fic-lover]

A snowstorm baby

For Kim it has been the coldest winter she had exprenced for a long time, she cursed herself for staying in this old flat. It’s single glased windows held no heat and the boiler was always breaking, it happened once again one day as she was getting ready to pick her daughter Mia up from school. Kim called the plummer, but unfortunatly she couldn’t get here till tomorow. 

As Kim walked she worried what she would say to her daughter, there was snow due and she didn’t want her daughter to get ill from the cold. As Kim waited for the kids to be let out she saw Alexia, the mother of her daughters best friend. Kim had known her since the girls started school together, they had natrally got on like a house on fire. Kim actualy didn’t mind picking her daughter up from Alexia’s house for playdates or when took forever to get ready as her and Alexia had some great chats about life.

Alexia is the known lesbain but Kim never see’s her part of any of the school’s LGBTQ+ groups or with a partner, which some may find suprising considering she has a daughter and was also heavly pregnant at the moment. As they waited they casualy chatted, Kim decided not to metion about there lack of hot water. She didn’t want Alexia to feel like she has to take her and her daughter Mia in, especally in Alexia’s condision. 

Alexia stroked her mountious belly as the children were releaced into the playground, “have a good evening” Alexia said.

As Mia joined Kim, she explained that the hot water was out again this evening. “Oh no” Mia said loudly “but what about my shower? I don’t wanna be all wrapped up all evening!”

Kim was about to reason with her when Mia’s best friend ran over to ask about the homework, of course little girls beimg little girls Mia instead told her best friend about the heating who ran to her mummy. Alexia then came over, “would you like me to take Mia for the evening? She’s due a sleepover at mine anyway, it may be her last chance to sleep at my house for a while”. Alexia held her belly as if to highlight the reason why.

Kim felt bad but Alexia made a good point, “well if it’s no trouble. You take the girls, I’ll drop by with Mia’s stuff.”

The girls cheered and Kim smiled to herself, she was glad her daughter wouldn’t be suffering tonight afterall. She put together a bag with a fresh uniform for the next day, as well as wash stuff and pj’s. She decided she would sort herself out once she returned home.

When Kim rang the doorbell she was greeted by Alexia who was covered in little flour handprints all over her belly, she just laughed. “Come on in, the girls were making mini pizzas and as you can see they got distracted when the baby kicked.”

Kim couldn’t help but smile, “I should get going, I still need to make dinner for myself and wanna get home before the snow gets thick”. It had been snowing since she had left her house with Mia’s belongings.

“I was thinking about it and you might as well stay over too, save you having to come back here. We all just got an email, school is closed tomorow as the snow is going to be so heavy. I’ll be honest I’d be suprised if your plummer comes tomorrow”.

Kim was tempted, “I’d have to go all the way back for...”

“You can borrow some of my stuff, you look like my size.. pre pregnancy of couse. It will be nice for that stuff to be used again haha” Alexia said winning Kim over.

“Okay, okay you win” Kim said coming inside, she joined the girls who were eatting there pizzas. Mia enjoyed her evening having a sleepover whilst Kim and Alexia had a nice pasta dish and chat, both single parents apprecated the grown up time. “I assume I’m in the guest room like I was for new years?” kim asked before blushing, that new years had been fun. The girls enjoyed counting down and Kim had been taken aback when Alexia gave her a bit more then a peck on the lips but never questioned it. 

“Oh unfortunately this little guy has already moved his stuff into that room, but you don’t mind bunking in with me do you? I don’t have any spare blanket and anyway you don’t wanna be on the sofa” Alexia said smiling.

Kim nodded and maybe it was her imagination but at that point it seemed to be Alexia goal to get the girls washed, teeth brushed, story read and tucked in for the night. Soon we were sitting on top of the covers of Alexia’s bed watching tv, Kim was suprised how normal it felt. It was so nice as Kim would occationally watch Alexia’s shirt ride up as she lazy rubbed her globe like belly, at one point Alexia caught her and smiled. “Sorry, this time of night I love how calm he is. Have a feel” she offered Kim, “He will spend the rest of the night wide awake keeping me up with him”.

Kim hesitated and Alexia not wanting to push the matter continued talking, “I can now feel the head right in my pelvis, makes climbing those stairs”. To Alexia’s suprise Kim nodded and found herself rubing Alexia’s low hanging belly gently. At first running her hand along the bottom, then slowly pushing her fingers back up along the top near her breasts. She stopped as she realised what she was doing, this was not meant to be getting aroused as she felt for the baby. But to Kim’s suprised Alexia said softly “oooohhh that really felt lovely”, Kim suposed both of them must not get much attention. 

Kim was right, Alexia practically had to hold in a moan of delight. She hadn’t been touched for so long, so just that touch made her nipples became hard beneath her maternity bra. When she noticed they had risen and could be seen though her shirt Alexia then got up to use the bathroom. 

She got changed and on her way back passed Kim some clothes to sleep in, as she goes and gets changed in the bathroom Kim takes the chance to take a breather. She knows that she has always classed herself as straight but she can’t stop thinking about Alexia, but she assumes that Alexia wouldn’t be sharing these feelings. Alexia has a daughter and a unborn child to think of, Kim has her daughter. Kim puts the soft nightdress on, she is suprised that Alexia would pick this for her. 

As Alexia waited for Kim to return she felt an as an odd sensation within her womb, but she put that down to the arousal she was feeling for Kim. She knew that Kim was a forbidden fruit and she knew better the to go after a straight girl, but this was all just a bit of fun. She couldn't help image those were blushes of attraction.

While in the bathroom Kim notices all the birthing supplies, from the look of it Alexia was having a home birth. Even a clamp for the cord and a at home fetal heart monitor. Kim tried to remember how far along Alexia was, would she be due soon?

But as she joins Alexia in the bedroom Alexia seems to be taking her all in, before hiding her glance and looking down. Alexia turns off the light as soon as Kim is in the bed, after a moment she asks “mind if I remove my nightdress, I’m not used to all this body heat in my bed” dispite it being the middle of winter.

Kim is glad for the darkness as she blushes, “of couse, this is your home”.

Alexia clicked her lamp on and took off her clothes, Kim couldn’t help rolling over so she could catch a glance of Alexia’s naked chest. Her firm milkfilled breasts hung from from her chest like 2 ripe fruits, her nipples were erect Kim assumed from the slight chill in the air. Without any clothes Kim could see her orb like belly in it’s full glory, she thought about the donor who didn’t even know how lucky he was to have such a beautful woman carrying his seed.

Kim then wondered if it was an anonymos donor or someone Alexia knew, maybe Alexia used the same donor as last time. Suddenly Kim was wracking her brain to work out if Alexia ever mentioned using a known donor or not. But then Kim caught herself not liking how much she suddenly cared. 

Still she found herself watching the rise and fall of Alexia's breasts, she had forgotten to rub lotion over the curve of her bump so was now doing so. Kim wondered if Alexia knew what she was doing to Kim as she feely lay there naked stroking her soft skin. As Kim shuffled she realised she was wet between her legs, again she blushed. 

She looked over and Kim saw hard her nipples were, she wondered if it ment Alexia was aroused too. "You don't have to be embarrassed" Alexia said "we don't have to do anything if you don't want to, but if you would like to have a bit of fun... then".

"I can't" Kim said "I don't want things to get awkward if I'm.... I don't want the girls to not be affected by my.."

"Relax Kim, it's a snow day. A one off day, I know that because we are not used to the snow we may find it an exciting adventure and I won't judge how you play in the snow". 

As she finished talking Alexia felt a tightening inside her womb stronger then before, but just wrote it off as a braxton hick. She thought about telling Kim but just then Kim sighed,"what if I don't want it to be a one off?"

Alexia leaned over and kissed Kim on the lips, "why don't we see how you feel after the snow day before you think about moving to colder climates."

"Stop saying your snow when you are actually so hot" Kim said before kissing Alexia, both ladies slid down the head board and Alexia lay on the mattress Kim on top. They passionately kissed, Kim's free hand exploring Alexia's belly. The baby kicked against Kim's palm, awoken by it's mothers racing heart. Kim's hands explore further down the sides of her body, stroking her butt there breasts pressed against each other. As they sat up Alexia removed Kim's nightdress, then moved her hand downwards. "Oh wow you were wet".

"Yes" Kim whispers "I'm wet for you". She started kissing her neck then down to her heavy sensitive breasts, she slipped her lips over one of her nipples. Alexia let out a soft moan, spurred on Kim swelled her tounge around. Whilst she put her hand over the other breast squeezing the nipple between 2 fingers and pulling at it. Kim found it wonderful she swapped to the other breast, Alexia's moans increased.

After a while she moved her mouth away from her breast, Kim started kissing her way down to her belly. She made a fuss of Alexia knowing that she would appreciate soft kisses across her gravid belly. "I thought this belly would make me less sexy" Alexia moaned, "but thats certainly not the case".

In response Kim slide her hand down and started to stroke Alexia's folds, she then slide a finger tip inside her. "May I?" Kim asked.

"Ohhh" Alexia moaned "you may". Kim then slide two fingers inside, she had always had a fantasy of pleasuring a woman the way she had never been. She started pumping slowly at first, then sped up feeling Alexia’s inner walls react. "Ohhhhh" Alexia moans holding her belly. "No no carry on, it's just been so long" Alexa reassured. But she felt the tightening again, she knew it wasn’t a ushal sensation for her. But this may be her only chance and tried to hide the ache she felt.

"I could always use my mouth?" Kim offered lowering her head and licking and sucking her clit, Alexia moaned and her hips thrusted along her breasts beating her belly like a drum with each thrust that Kim's fingers were still doing. Both ladies felt Alexia building up, her walls contracted and she gave a long moan her belly hardening as she came.

As Kim removed her fingers Alexia pulled her closer still on her back, she held Kim close no words spoken between them. Alexia put her hand on her belly, Kim joined in caressing the mountain that was now her belly. It was so full of life, she knew it shouldn’t but it turned her on. “Do you want me to...” Alexia started to offer but Kim shook her head, all this was turning her on enough. Alexia caught on and said “do you want to feel me down there again?”

Kim didn’t need to be asked twice, she slipped her hand between Alexia’s thighs reached down and began massaging the clit slowly but with lots of pressure this time.

"Gaaaaaah hoo hoo" she moaned unsure if it was from the plesure or another tightening, her breasts rise and fall as she tries not to explode from the sesations. But then suddenly the sensation grew into something worse and a contraction gripped her hard. “Gaaahhhhhhhh ohhh stop stop” she said cluching her belly. 

“Oh my god are you okay? Did your waters break?” Kim asked looking for fluid.

“No hoo hoo but I’m in labour” she still felt the pain, Kim held her until Alexia relaxed, she remebered that Alexia had looked like she was having a homebirth from the stuff in the bathroom.

"Do you want to call your midwife?" Kim asked her. Alexia nodded and Kim got her phone to her, but the snow had got heavyer. Alexia could tell that her midwife was doubtful she could make it, and said she should go to the hospital once she was more dilated. 

Alexia agreed but knew she wasn’t going anywhere, the snow wasn’t safe to drive in. Plus she wanted a homebirth, so that was what was going to happen. She climbed off the bed and made her way to the bathroom, Kim followed "is there anyone you want to call, I’m happy to watch your daughter.”

“Let the girls sleep, hopefully when they awake there will be a new member of the household to enjoy” Alexia said as she started filling up the birthing pool she had already set up in her on suite bathroom.

“You’re not thinking of doing it by yourself?” Kim asked wondering how much she could convince Alexia this wasn’t wise.

“My midwife won’t come because it’s not safe on the roads and it’s gonna take forever, I’m not risking my unborn child by going outside” Alexia said simply. She wondered how much Kim would fight her, but Kim seemed to just take a second and then started helping her set up and fill the pool.

Alexia then felt her next contraction, she tried to hold it in not wanting to wake the children. “What do you need?” Kim asked both about the pool and the pain Alexia was in.

“Gaah just stay by my side” she said reaching out to her, Kim was more then happy to do so. Over the next 2 hours Alexia contractions got worse, but Kim was there holding her and swaying the pain away when needed. 

“Who would of been here if I wasn’t?” Kim asked couriously.

“The midwife, I kinda only have my daughter and my son when he arrives” she said softly, Alexia rubbed her belly whilst Kim was silent. She started to sway again trying to get the pressure off her hips, but then her grip on Kim tightened her other hand supporting her belly. “Naaaaggggghhhhh hee heee naaaaaghhhhhh” she groaned as her contractions were getting more intense, she just wanted to start pushing. 

Alexia’s laboring belly was so tight, it looked like it was about to burst. Kim was shocked how watching Alexia go though such a moment made her so attractive, but she was so powerful going though this without even gas and air.

Alexia found herself wanting to sqaut, Kim got on her knees to join her. Alexa’s belly hung low, heavy with her unborn child who’s head was pressed right upto the entrance to Alexia’s birth canal. Alexia could feel it, she checked her dilation wishing her water would break soon. “I’m at 8cm, 2 more till I can push”. But the sqauting did help at least.

Kim held her, “your my hero, I was a wussy when my mia was born”.

“hooooo I bet you were” Alexia teesed as a contraction hit and she held onto Kim. She then finally felt the pop she had been waiting for and her water broke, as the fluid hit the floor she felt the urge to push. “Naaagggghhhhhhhh” she moaned, she was not wasting any time.

“Should I help you in the pool?” Kim asked, but Alexia ignored her. As she pushed she felt the head begin to move down into the birth canal easily. She could tell here body was ready to eject her son. 

“I can’t move outta this sqaut” Alexia said once the contraction was over. Kim nodded and comforted her, until Alexia felt the urge to push again. “NAAAGGGGHHHH” Alexia moaned loudly, she was glad they had closed the door to both the bedroom and the en suite so hopefully they wouldn’t wake the girls. As she pushed Alexia felt herself progressing, she spread her legs wider to componsate for her son being fully in her birthcanal.

Kim moved her position so she would be able to guide the baby out, on Alexia’s next push her folds parted and a tear drop gap was present. As the baby decended out of her Alexia was sure this baby dispite being early was huge, she felt the buldge between her legs growing. “Gaaaahhhh nnnaaaggghhh” she moaned as the baby crowned, she thought she was going to die from the pain. “ohhh god OHHHH I’m so scared”.

“No you got this Alexia, come on you are so close” Kim encoraged, and with that Alexia kept pushing till the head popped out. Kim thought she was going to rest but Alexia kept pushing till the shoulders popped out and the baby felt into her hands.

But at first the child didn’t cry, Kim saw the cord round his neck, with quick shaking hand she removed the cord from her neck. The colour flooded back into the baby’s face, then he let out a cry. Alexia put the baby though her legs and onto her deflated belly. She looked up at Kim and something in them both knew this wouldn’t be the first birth they would expreience together.

[shyficwriter]

Temporary Home: Chapter 7

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!)

Summary: Peter is determined to chip your shell away, but unfortunately, his attempts only seem to annoy you. He might need to step up his game, and by that he means recruiting Mantis, which backfires on him. This could be the start of a war, if Yondu knows what he's talking about.

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: I got a suggestion from @maribatshipper to add a scene where some actual raccoons get in the trash and Rocket finally sees a raccoon. I love the idea but I unfortunately didn't get a chance to add it to this chapter as it was finished before I saw the suggestion (I'll probably add it later, don't worry! lol) Anyways, it gave me an idea. What's some stuff you guys would like to see happen in this story? I do already know the direction of the story, but this could also be fun!

Word Count: 3,729

You were going to kill Peter. Probably Kraglin too.

It started maybe a couple hours after "the smelly incident," as you had mentally dubbed it, had resolved.

Peter got bored, found some old DVDs in the cabinet below the TV, and when he recognized a movie from when he was a kid, SpaceBalls, he managed to convince you to watch it with them.

He might have also quietly pulled the "unless you're too shy..." card for the thousandth time, and you might have told him it was getting old and he was working his way towards a black eye, but you did agree to watch the film with them. Peter had somehow convinced everyone else to watch the movie, too. Might have had something to do with the fact that no one exactly had anything better to do.

Kraglin sat at on one end of the sofa, Gamora on the other, and Peter & you were sandwiched in the middle, him next to Gamora and you next to Kraglin. Mantis, Rocket and Groot sat on the floor, while Drax and Yondu took the armchairs at either side of the sofa.

Only you and Peter got the Star Wars references, of course, but there were plenty of parts the others found funny even without it. Rocket mostly laughed about how Terrans didn't understand space at all if you thought that's how things worked, and compared Peter to the main character, Lone Star. He meant it in a derogatory way, of course.

At about the scene where Dark Helmet breaks the 4th wall with the line, "What the hell am I looking at? When does this happen in the movie?" Peter had started to notice that you didn't laugh openly like everyone else. You always covered your mouth like you were trying to stifle it, despite no one else bothering to be quiet, least of all Drax, who laughed loudly at parts that weren't even that funny.

That simply wouldn't do. You should be laughing freely with the others, like you did when Kraglin and Rocket got tangled up in the hose, which was probably the only time he had seen a genuine full laugh from you, now that he thought of it. To him, this was evidence that he was right, you needed to break that shell of yours and learn how to loosen up.

Annnd... if that required a little mischief on his part... well then so be it.

He waited a bit, just to see if you'd eventually let yourself relax, but when you just kept biting your lip not to laugh and covering your mouth when you started to, he decided he'd 'help' you along.

The scene came on where Dark Helmet's men were combing the dessert with a literal giant comb, and seeing you trying to stifle another laugh, Peter decided to poke you in the side.

You tried to stifle your squeak and you glared at him, but he just shrugged innocently. Poke you? Never... Doesn't sound like him...

He spaced a couple more pokes within the next few minutes of the film, making you jump and hiss at him to stop. He grinned at you and whispered he thought you could use some help laughing, since it seemed you had forgotten how. The little shit.

You irritably whisper back, "That's not gonna work, I'm not-"

Peter rolled his eyes playfully and replied, "Yeah. Sure. Not ticklish. You've said. Too bad I don't believe you." He made to poke you again and you pinched him hard on the arm, which you admit was childish, but he deserved it for annoying you. He gave you a pouty look in response and then frowned when Gamora scolded him and told him to quit behaving like a child.

You sat back and thought he'd finally quit.

And he might have, seeing that it wasn't quite working as he hoped, but Kraglin, who of course noticed your flinching and the childish bickering between you and Peter, caught Peter's eye and they shared a look. He wanted in on the fun. Movie wasn't all that interesting to him anyways.

Five minutes later you received a poke from each of them simultaneously, making your arms clamp to your sides. You turn your head from side to side to glare at both of them. Quietly threatening to break their fingers if they didn't straighten up and just watch the movie.

Based on their expressions it was clear they didn't take you seriously, but they seemed to back off... for about another ten minutes. That's when they decided to poke you again and you jerked up off the sofa with a "That's it." and moved to sit down on the floor next to Mantis where you knew you were out of their reach.

Gamora smacked Peter in the arm for annoying you off the sofa, but no one paid much mind or reacted with more than a glance as they were paying attention to the movie. Well, except for Yondu, who had fallen asleep and was now snoring softly in his chair.

Peter was slightly disappointed that you hadn't been able to let your guard down, but he wasn't deterred. In fact, he was more determined to not just chip at your shell, but shatter it. There was someone who liked to have fun in there, and he was determined to find them and pull them out.

Thankfully, you were able to finish the rest of the movie unbothered. Rocket complained about the sappy ending where Lone Star and the Princess marry, but then Mantis said she thought it was sweet and he waved her off, grumbling about how she thought everything was sweet, or cute, or whatever...

After the movie you decided to go out to the shed and apply the varnish to the bed frame, and when you came back inside to wash some of the varnish off your hands you were startled when Kraglin snuck up behind you to poke you in the ribs. He dodged just in time to avoid being smacked and ran out of the kitchen, his giggles joined by Peter's in the hall.

You sighed, now thinking you should have taken more time in the shed with the varnish. Maybe cooking something would keep you busy enough, but what would you cook? Your first thought was that lasagna would likely feed everyone, but then you remembered the cheese and you were not about to have a repeat of that morning. You were sure the hairs inside your nose were singed-off forever.

You walk out the kitchen door to catch the men still giggling in the hall and they jump from the unexpected sight of you, probably thinking you had come out to properly smack them for deliberately annoying you. You look at them, unamused, and say, "Supper will be in about an hour if you want it. If there's anything else any of you can't eat you should probably tell me now."

Peter and Kraglin exchanged looks before Peter turned back to you and said, "If there is, we don't know it yet."

Kraglin nodded and added, "Not a lot of experience with Terran food, ma'am."

You cringe slightly at being called ma'am, but give a short nod. "Well, here's hoping I don't poison anyone again," you say, turning to head back to the kitchen. You are stopped when another poke to your waist makes you jump and you turn back with a hand raised to smack him.

Peter recoils with a laugh and says, "Just wondering if you'd like any help in the kitchen?"

You narrow your eyes. "Nope. Think you two better stay out here. Clearly can't trust you not to annoy me." You can hear their chuckles as you walk back into the kitchen.

Mercifully, they left you alone all through the cooking and eating of dinner, (you had decided to make a stew). Well, they left you alone physically, that is. Throughout dinner they kept attempting jokes, and it was obvious they were aiming them at you in an attempt to get you to laugh. Most of them fell flat, however, because most of the jokes Kragin told hinged on you knowing about creatures or other stuff not from Earth that you'd have not any way of knowing the context for to make the joke make sense. The others seemed to get the jokes and find them funny though, so at least they seemed to be enjoying themselves. Better than awkward silence any day.

Peter was able to tell a few jokes with Earth references that you could understand, but they were such old jokes that anyone who didn't live in a cave would have already heard them before they finished primary school, so you didn't really laugh at his either. You did, however, smile politely, assuming that they were only trying to be friendly.

After dinner you started to get ready to wash the dishes, and Gamora offered to help.

"No thank you, I've got them tonight." you say, taking the couple of bowls she had gathered and put them in the sink.

"You sure? You cooked for us, it doesn't seem right to let you clean up by yourself too."

"Don't worry, I'm not going to make a habit of it, just... some nights I like to have something to keep me busy, ya know?" You turn on the tap and start washing the dishes. You hated to admit it, but that boiler Fury replaced your immersion with had proven to be very helpful with eight extra people in the house. If you didn't know better you'd say it was magic. Somehow there was just always hot water. You willed yourself not to get too used to it, however. No one had said, but surely SHIELD was just temporarily loaning it until the Guardians finally were able to go back home. You couldn't imagine them just giving you an upgrade like that to keep forever.

"Ok," Gamora relented, not wanting to push it. She could tell you probably still needed a bit more time before you could fully relax. "Thanks for supper."

"Don't mention it," you say, not looking up as you sudsed a bowl.

Gamora nodded and walked out of the kitchen, passing Peter, Kraglin and Mantis on her way into the sitting room. They looked like they were conspiring something, but as a general rule, she didn't get involved in Peter's shenanigans. That meant that unless it was going to directly annoy her, or possibly injure someone else, she pretended not to notice.

She had been right, they were conspiring. Well, Peter and Kraglin had been, Mantis was just along for the ride. With nothing better to do, the two men decided they'd put their energy towards continuing to mess with you, however, it was clear that they needed to get smarter about their approach if they didn't want to risk a black eye.

So they deployed Mantis.

It didn't take much to convince Mantis to do it either. It literally just took Peter asking Mantis if she wanted to play a game and she agreed.

In truth Peter was testing a theory. He watched from the kitchen door with Kraglin as they sent Mantis in to do the poking while you washed the dishes.

She poked, you jumped and spun to face her, clearly thinking it was one of the guys, and then the irritation softened from your face as you realized it was her and all she got was a mild scolding. Mantis looked back and Kraglin encouraged her to do it again with an enthusiastic nod.

This time she fluttered her fingers at your waist from both sides like she had the other day, making you jump again, and, with what sounded suspiciously to the guys to be a poorly suppressed giggle in your voice, you scolded her again and shooed her away.

Theory confirmed. You couldn't bring yourself to try and smack her away like you had with them. Good. He could work with that. Use your soft spot for her against you.

This time they motioned Mantis to come back.

She meets them at the doorway and on her way out whispers, "Did I do a good job?"

Peter smiles, "Yes. You did great. Hey, I want to show you a trick..."

***

A bit later you walked into the sitting room and Mantis calls you over to the table, saying she wants to show you a trick.

She's sitting with Peter, Kraglin, and Gamora, and you walk over hesitantly, wondering if Gamora's presence meant you could assume you'd be safe from mischief or not, seeing as she normally swatted at or scolded Peter for being annoying.

Once you reached the table Mantis stood and encouraged you to take a seat. You pull out a chair at the end of the table and sit, only to be instructed by Mantis to turn and face her.

You eye her suspiciously and then turn to Gamora. "Am I going to regret this?" you ask, your eyes moving to Peter and Kraglin who sat across from her, shrugging and shaking their heads. You were sure you could only trust them about as far as you could throw them, but Gamora appeared to genuinely have no idea what Mantis wanted to show you, so you decided to just play along. How bad could it be?

Mantis instructed you to hold out your hand for her, and you did as asked. She then held your hand palm up and placed her thumb at the tip of your middle finger, and rested the tip of her own middle finger where the palm of your hand met your wrist, as if she were measuring the distance with her own hand.

She then released your hand and moved the hand she used to measure the length of your hand with to your knee, placing her thumb on your kneecap and lowering the tip of her middle finger to rest on your thigh above the knee.

"What are you doing?" you ask, suspicion and confusion in your voice.

Mantis looked up to meet your gaze. She smiled happily and said, "I'm distracting you for this!"

You raise an eyebrow but before you could wonder much about it she squeezed your leg where her middle finger had been resting, sending a tickly jolt through your body and making you jerk in your seat and your breath catch in your throat.

You grasp for her wrist to push her away, but then she just attacked your other leg with her other hand. "Mantis! No!" you squeak, squirming in your seat and flailing for her hands. Every time you'd grab for one hand, she'd free her other hand and send ticklish pokes and squeezes wherever she could reach.

She was was a little stronger and quicker than she looked, so it made the task of restraining her hands difficult for you. You did your best to hold back any laughter as you flinched and jerked from your torment. You could hear Peter laughing and telling her 'good job,' and Kraglin encouraging her to continue, which she did, happily giggling the whole time.

"Peter!" you half scold/half beckon.

"Yes?" he asked teasingly, folding his hands under his chin with a cheeky grin. Gamora rolled her eyes and tried to shake her head disapprovingly at him, but she couldn't help grinning. Mantis just looked so playful and it was honestly adorable.

"Will you-AEK" you squeak as she darted a hand and squeezed at your waist before you could stop her, "Will you make her stop!"

"Thought you weren't ticklish?" Kraglin said with a teasingly smug grin. "That shouldn't bother you at all then. I don't see a problem."

Gamora sighed with a smile at the two men. So that's what this was about. They must have put Mantis up to this.

"Dammit!" you jerk again as Mantis landed another squeeze above your knee. "I'm- I'm not- I'm-" you were having managing words, because each time you attempted, you were cut off by another poke or squeeze from Mantis, and you were afraid you would start laughing if you allowed yourself to talk through it. You were already having a hell of a time trying not to smile, and failing.

"I swear, if you actually say you're not ticklish right now, Pete and I will pin you down and prove that you are." Kraglin threatened with an evil grin.

"Kraglin!" Gamora scolded with furrowed brow, but her warning wasn't taken too seriously on account of the humor laced in her voice.

"What? She's the one being so stubborn she can't admit it!" Kraglin laughed. As far as he was concerned, you deserved it for fibbing. Plus, wouldn't kill you to loosen up a bit- you could be... well, scary... sometimes. Although it was kinda hard to think of you as scary at the moment while you were spasming in a chair as you kept trying to get a hold on Mantis's quick hands and a grin more than threatened to crack your face.

You could feel your cheeks getting warm, hating showing signs of weakness, but knowing you didn't have much choice at the moment. "Ok! Fine!" you cry out, still grappling at Mantis's hands and biting back any giggles that threatened to spill out. You knew when you were beat. It was pretty damn obvious that you couldn't deny being ticklish anymore, and you sure as hell weren't about to give them a reason to actually properly tickle the snot out of you. You wouldn't stand a chance.

"Fine... what?" Peter chuckled in a sing-song voice and leaned on the table.

You could kill him. "Fine! I'm ticklish, okay!? I admit it! Are you happy now!?" Just then Mantis managed to free both hands and briefly tweak your ribs before you got a grip on her wrists again, finally getting a short laugh to escape your throat as you spasmed in your chair. "Will you call her off now, please!?" Gods, this was embarrassing. You didn't know how, but they were so going to pay for this.

Peter and Kraglin high-five and Peter says, "Alright, Mantis, good job."

Mantis stood and clasped her hands, giggling and saying how that was so much fun, and you half-heartedly glare up at her before standing so you could get out of there, but not before turning to aim a glare at Peter and Kraglin. The jackasses.

When you turn back you notice Yondu leaning on the back of the sofa looking amused and you cringe, asking, "How long have you been standing there?"

Yondu folded his arms and pretended to think. "Hmm... Long enough to hear the boys threaten to tickle ya silly and then see ya fold like a cheap tent." Humor twinkled in his eyes and you wanted to melt into the floor.

You inhale and look to the ceiling, your cheeks burning. Your expression then turned mischievous. Vengeance. Now.

"Mantis?" you say, turning back to face her.

"Yes?" she answers, smiling wide and sweetly.

You put on your best, most innocent face. "Ya know, maybe you should do that to Peter. Or Kraglin. Why should they miss out on the fun?" Your eyes flick to the pair menacingly to see Peter looking at you like you just shot him.

Mantis giggles and goes to take your suggestion, bouncing to their side of the table. Peter bolted from his chair, saying, "Mantis- wait a minute!" and tried to run around the table, getting slowed down when Kraglin tripped him, mostly likely to save himself as he also stood to get out of Mantis's way, grabbing her by the shoulders and spinning her in Peter's direction when it looked like she was going after him. Unfortunately for Peter, he didn't get much further after Kraglin tripped him as Gamora effortlessly caught him by the arm and then laughed as she held him in place and he complained.

You turned back to Yondu with a satisfied smile and started to walk past him to leave when he leaned over to speak in a low tone as you got near. "Hope ya know that was a mistake, girl," he chuckled.

"What?" you say, surprised. Peter could be heard laughing and pleading with Mantis and Gamora behind you.

He grinned wider. "If there's anythin' I know about that boy, ya just declared war. An' if that ain't bad enough, now yer stuck in a house with him, and my first mate who ain't got nothin better to do."

"Ah." Your voice cracks, your eyes widening, nervousness creeping into your belly. "Well surely they wouldn't hold a grudge- I mean, they started it-"

He straightened back up and chuckled, shaking his head knowingly. "Jus' figured I should give ya a heads up. Do with it what ya will. Boy's partial to pranks when it comes to revenge. Might wanna be on the lookout for buckets of water above your doorways tomorrow. Or grease in your boots. That used to be Quill's go-to." Mirth glistened in his eyes and made you unsure if this warning was out of the goodness of his heart or if he enjoyed seeing the 'oh shit' look on your face.

You swallowed. Fuck. Just what you needed. A war. You decided it might be a good idea to get out before Peter could escape, or before Kraglin could decide to avenge his friend. "Well I'm going to go to bed now." Your voice was a little higher than you'd like and you could hear Yondu chuckling as you scarpered.

He knew it was more likely you were going to hide than going to sleep. It was barely dark out.

Yondu shook his head and walked to take a seat on the couch, still chuckling at the flicker of fear in your eyes when he told you that you had started a war. He switched on the TV and idly wondered who'd give up first. He'd gotten the impression that you wouldn't be one to back down, despite the nervousness present on your face.

You may have the advantage of being on home turf, but Quill could be relentless. More than likely you were fucked, but it'd be interesting to see how it all played out.

You might surprise him.

[harryandhishook]

Thanksgiving Secrets

Fandom: Dream Daddy

Pairing: Background Hugo x Damien

Setting: Maple Bay

Warning: Erm … Coming out? Swearing? I have no idea

Summary: After going to College, Lucien is invited for Thanksgiving with his Dad, Hugo and Ernest, however, Ernest hasn’t been his normal self and some secrets are revealed 

Words: 4059

Requested: Nope, I wrote this last November in a book on a coach coming back from Walk Disney World Florida

Side note: Before I give my apologies, I AM A TRANS MAN, if anything in here sounds off or doesn’t sound like how you expect a coming out story is, just remember, everyone’s coming out story is different and I tried to do this the best I can.

Also I am so so sorry, I know I haven’t uploaded in ages and I know there is no excuse but University is a bitch, my mental health is not good and my Grandmother (Who raised me) is pushing me to my limit and I’m so close to cutting contact with her. Sorry to unload all that to you but I’m trying my hardest to keep myself together and not just quit everything.

Here, have a cute Gif of Damien stroking a cat :) And sorry for any errors in the writing, it’s long and I still don’t have anyone to read my stuff over for me :(

Growing up wasn’t as bad as people thought it was, it just … sucked. When people aged, they found their soulmates, got jobs, leave to see the world, people grow up in body and mind.

It was around the time that Lucien was in his final year of Highschool when his Dad and Hugo finally confessed their feelings to each other and became a thing, Ernest was still young and very much acting out.

Lucien was the quickest to accept it, he was a little hesitant at first seeing as it was just him and Damien through his entire life and his Dad wasn’t exactly a stereotypical person, he may not act like it but when it comes to his Father, he is crazy protective over him and well, he didn’t want to let him get hurt, however, over time, he realised just how much the two Cul-De-Sac Fathers loved each other.

Ernest on the other hand, he couldn’t bring himself to accept the fact that his Father was dating, he couldn’t accept that he could one day have a Stepbrother, he just couldn’t accept any of it. The boy did everything to try and stop it, he acted out even more than usual, tried to split them up, he did whatever he could think of but no matter what, Damien would always treat him like he was his own son.

Now, a few years down the line, Lucien decided to prove every one of his disapproving teachers wrong and leave for College, all the while Ernest was stuck in his final year of Highschool, now, the pyromaniac delinquent was still one of his biggest features, something he was still well known as but the young Vega boy was actually a lot calmer than before and actually tried his hardest to settle down.

Damien and Hugo knew that Ernest never really had much of a problem with telling someone, even if it was through anger, how he felt and both Fathers had come to think that maybe the boy had completely reformed himself, figuring himself out, growing up from the mischievous boy they had watch destroy himself with hate and they both hoped that the boy would stay that way.

This year, the family decided to host Thanksgiving together, Lucien agreeing to travel down and stay for two weeks with them all while Damien tried to get as much time as he could from work for his Son. Luckily for Hugo and Ernest, the school boiler had decided to explode quite abruptly, leaving almost the entirety of the upper school, Hugo and Ernest area, flooded, giving them both the opportunity to stay at home for longer.

The day Lucien arrived home, he two Dad decided to meet him at the bus station, they had asked Ernest who had politely refused which was not much of a surprise to them, he barely left his room recently, he didn’t say why but they expected it may have possibly been school work.

When they had arrived at the station and greeted Lucien very happily, they had both shrugged off his question of, ‘where’s the brat?’, stating that he was busy and found it difficult to put his stuff down, not wanting him to worry too much when he had only just got there.

When Lucien got to the house, he was more than happy to wave at all his old neighbours with a wide smile on his face, anyone from a mile away could tell he had missed Maple Bay. It took almost an hour before the emo was able to walk through the door, not only did he need help with bags, his neighbours that he had waved to, mainly Mary, Joseph and Brian, had taken it upon themselves to bombard him with questions … okay, mainly Joseph and Brian, Mary was just happy to see the little monster again.

Finally, Lucien was in the clear, bags in the hall, coat and shoes off, placed neatly in their respective places while Damien rushed off to make them all something special to eat that night. The bo-young adult moved through his old home without so much as looking where he was going, all perfectly memorised until he reached the room that he never really needed to go into, the room that was never used into recently, Ernest’s room.

With a soft knock, Lucien waited, he knew that even with Ernest being older and probably not bothered by the emos presence, he still needed privacy,

“Who is it?” came a quiet and tired sounding voice, to anyone outside of the family, they would have thought someone else had spoken but Lucien could recognise the little shits voice better than anyone,

“Oi, dickhead, you gonna open up for your favourite brother or not?” Lucien playfully replied, hoping his usual attitude and joking ways could coax Ernest out of his little hiding mood. It took a few moments but soon enough, the door creaked open, revealing a tired looking and very messy looking Ernest, his hair was a mess, his clothes looked like they hadn’t seen a washing machine in years from how crumpled and wrinkly they were and finally, even if the boy thought no one could see, Lucien wasn’t so easily fooled as to not see the dried tears staining his cheeks,

“Ernest, man, what happened?” the emo asked, pushing them both into the room so he could block out everyone else once the door was shut, “You look like shit, when was the last time you had a shower? What the hell happened to you dude?” he asked, well, more demanded to know as he continued to push the younger boy into the room, sitting him on the bed before shuffling around the piles of clothes and trash, picking up the laundry to move out into the hamper before picking up every single piece of rubbish and crap left on the floor,

“Nothings wrong, Luce, I’m fine, I’ve just been busy, you know how it is, final year of school and all that” Ernest protested, trying his hardest to sound normal but failing miserably to convince his best friend and brother,

“Yeah, bullshit, if you’re so busy with work then I’m the straightest man alive, you’re lies ain’t gonna work on me so either you tell me what’s going on or have a shower, you smell like death so pick one or the other” Lucien demanded sternly, giving him a pretty simple choice, now to see if Ernest would actually pick one.

Luck would have it, Ernest grumpily rolled himself from the bed and made his way begrudgingly to the bathroom that was opposite the boys room, causing the emo to smile in relief.

As the sound f the shower filled the hall and the grumbles of annoyance hit the older siblings ears, Lucien made his way downstairs, large bag of trash in one hand and the hamper in the other. The little chore was meant to go smoothly … if his dads weren’t being stupidly lovey dovey in he kitchen, at least he got to see both adults become exceedingly embarrassed at being caught, however, that changed to shock when they spotted that the rebellious emo they had grown to love was cleaning in the first few minutes of staying in the house,

“It’s not what it looks like, Ernests room was a mess so I cleaned his room while he’s taking a well needed shower” Lucien explained as he put the bag of trash by the back door, “O know there is something wrong with him and I’m going to try get it out of him … whether he likes it or not” the boy stated as he moved into the adjacent room to start the new load of laundry, he was so busy he hadn’t even noticed his parents enter the room after him,

“My darling, we didn’t want you to worry, Ernest has been acting quite peculiar as of late, normally we can easily piece together his dilemma but … as you saw, he hasn’t left his room in quite some time” Damien explained as they stood in the doorway, watching the emo boy start the washer before turning to look at the two men, he was about to speak when Hugo interrupted him,

“I don’t want to lose Ernest, not when I’ve just managed to get him to call me dad again” the eldest Vega whispered, sighing as the Victorian beside him gently laced their fingers together, “Lucien please try and get him to open up to us” years ago, Lucien would tell his parents to do it themselves but from the looks on his dads faces, it was out of their hands and unsurprisingly up to him,

“Fine but only because I love you both” the emo chuckled, walking in between them to escape the little room, “Anyway, who can resist my puppy dog eyes” Lucien smirked before pointing at Damien, “and one of Dads famous movie pamper nights” he finished as he vanished back upstairs,

“Damien, what is he talking about?” the teacher asked, absolutely confused but also very intrigued. Hugo turned his gaze to the side only to come face to face with a very ecstatic man next to him,

“It’s been so long, I will need many supplies, first, I’ll need to find a good movie, maybe comedy, oh how this brings back so many memories” the Victorian man rambled as he scurried about the rooms, writing a very long list, “this will surely help Ernest, why did I not think of this” he muttered before handing the list to the other man in the room, “I will need you to run to Walmart for all these things, also get some of those pizza rolls that Ernest loves so much, thank you” he instructed before also disappearing off upstairs, leaving a baffled Hugo still stood in the laundry room now holding a long list of junk food … way too much junk food.

Nightfall came, the living room had been transformed into what looked like a teenage girls slumber party; junk food, movies, nail kits, make up, face masks, everything a slumber party needed.

Hugo had been told he could enter if and only if he let someone do one little bit of pampering on him, to which the teacher quickly excused himself with the explanation of ‘papers to complete’, leaving Damien to sit in his very baggy and very comfortable … okay, maybe not his clothes but the wrestling shirts he ‘borrowed’ from Hugo looked so cute on him. Lucien sat beside him in some of his least emo pyjamas anyone had ever seen on the boy since they were covered in Mickey Mouse heads but who’s judging.

Soon, once the room was competed, Lucien hurried upstairs, knocking gently on the large door of Ernest's room to get his attention,

“Bitch, I need you to do two things, one, find some comfy clothes and two, come downstairs” the emo shouted through the door before waiting for a response which amazingly didn’t take as long as the door opened to reveal a grouchy looking mess,

“What are you trying to do, Goth?” Ernest mumbled, obviously trying to joke around even thought Lucien could tell he felt like absolute shit,

“It’s emo and I’m not trying to do anything, all I want to do is to try and help you feel better” Lucien explained before realising he was just going to have to reveal what was downstairs, “Me and Dad were talking and I found out that you like to sit and talk to him so, me, you and my Dad are going to sit downstairs, eat junk food and watch movies … sound good?” he asked, hoping it was going to work.

Lucien realised it definitely did when Ernest held up a single finger, closing the door in the emos face before appearing once again moments later in very baggy yet comfortable clothing,

“Well then, come on, I don’t have all day” Ernest grumbled, a small smile gracing his exhausted face as he obviously tried to crack another joke with his stepbrother. Slowly, he made his way down the grand staircase to the living room where Damien was waiting happily,

“Ernest, my dead, come sit” he said giddily, patting the stack of pillows and duvets beside him, allowing Ernest enough space to sit comfortably as he pressed play on the movie, one of Ernest's and Damien's guilty pleasures, Descendants,

“Descendants, junk food and being lazy … you trying to butter me up, pops?” Ernest chuckled weakly as he sat down, getting himself comfortable between his family, he knew exactly what they were doing for him but maybe a little treat wouldn’t be too bad to indulge in.

A few hours, three descendants films and a lot of pampering later, the three of them were laid back, heads rested against the sofa as they spoke, Lucien's nails were drying, Damien had a face mask on and Ernest was staring, his ears were almost deaf to the world around him as the other two people in the room chatted away but he couldn’t bring himself to look away and join in, his gaze couldn’t move from the one thing in the room that haven’t been touched, the make-up. The young boy was silent, burning holes into the bag of brushes and surprises, until,

“Pops…” A meek whisper but was caught by the man it was directed to, causing the two to stop talking and sit up, removing the cucumbers from over his eyes,

“Yes my dear?” Damien asked as he watched the young boy slowly turn his gaze over to his,

“I’ve heard that … well, some girls at my school have said that …” the boy stuttered, trying to think of the best way to describe his strange request but he couldn’t, making the boy sigh and ask, “Can it feel good to put on make-up?” he finally asked, trying not to make eye contact.

Damien's eyes widened a little, out of everything he had prepared himself to answer, that wasn’t one of them,

“Well, it can, especially the brushes, the make-up itself can feel strange though” Damien answered before reaching over to the table the bag was laid, bring it over to them.

Ernest sat silently, watching him reach inside and pull out a large fluffy brush, leaning over and carefully sliding it across the boys cheek, earning a soft sigh of joy,

“Would you like me to put some on you?” the Victorian man asked as he rummaged through the seemingly bigger on the inside bag, revealing a few different contraptions and what looked like small torture devices. With a small, timid nod, the young Vega answered,

“Y-Yes please … if it’s not too weird” Ernest whispered, shuffling closer to Damien, all the while, Lucien watched with a happy smile, he knew this is exactly what his brother needed, maybe not just to relax but it was a relief to watch Ernest finally calm,

“Let’s get started then and don’t worry dear, I have the perfect colours for you … I may have possibly convinced your Father to do this once too” Damien chuckled softly, reminiscing as he grabbed the correct pieces he needed. Ernest closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he felt a cool liquid and soft brush move over his skin.

A while later and make-up flung everywhere, Damien sat back to admire his work as Ernest scrunched his face a little to get used to this new and very strange feeling of stuff covering his face,

“You look absolutely darling, it suits you” the Victorian said as he started to tidy the make-up away just as the grandfather clock behind then chimed midnight, “Oh dear, it is quite late and I need to start preparing food tomorrow, well, I guess I best wash this stuff off of my face and retire to bed, you boys can stay up a little longer if you wish, as long as you don’t make too much noise” Damien said as he slowly stood, stretching himself out before kissing both boys on the top of their heads, bidding them a good night.

Lucien continued to watch his Father head upstairs to his room before turning back to Ernest once he was no longer in sight but stopped at the scene before him,

“Ernest? What wrong?” he asked concerned, in front of him was Ernest, a boy well known for setting fire to the bushes outside his Fathers home, holding a mirror and sobbing into his hand, “Ernest, it’s okay, you can talk to me, what happening to you?”

As Ernest turned his head to look at the boy beside him, Lucien noticed the slight little wrinkles on the edge of his eyes, the same wrinkles his own Father got, which was all he needed to know exactly what was going through his brothers head and no matter what, he was going to show him just how much he still loved him through it all.

A few days went by, Lucien and Ernest had barely been in the house which, even if they wouldn’t admit it out loud, made both parents happy but also quite concerned for their sons whenever Lucien shrugged them off with quick reassurance of, ‘They’ll tell you on Thanksgiving, don’t worry dads’, before quickly running which wasn’t what the two men were hoping to hear but it seemed to ease both their minds for a while, at least until Hugo restarted his usual pacing around the kitchen as Damien cooked.

The night came quickly, Thanksgiving, the food was almost complete, the house smelt of perfectly roasted vegetables and mouth-watering deserts, the table decorated to Damien's specifications while Hugo was banished to sit and wait at the table, only problem was, two people were still missing, however, not too far away as just upstairs behind a single locked door were their pair of siblings, whispering cautiously,

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea” the young Vega questioned, obviously having a few seconds thought as they allowed Lucien to work his magic,

“It is a good idea … look, Dad and Pops aren’t going to hate you, they never could, they love you too much and anyway, I think your forgetting one vital thing and probably one of the biggest elephants in this house” Lucius argued, brushing through his siblings now unknotted hair, trying and praying to whatever deity out there to get it to style as the other sat quietly,

“And what’s that exactly?” they asked, watching in the mirror cautiously as Lucien spoke up with a soft chuckle,

“Damien” he placed the brush down as he expertly braided the surprisingly long hair in front of him and for the first time in months, the youngest Vega laughed,

Not too long later, Dinner was called, Hugo and Damien waited patiently in their respective seats just as footsteps descended the stairs but only a single pair of footsteps approaching the dining room. Both men turned curiously to see Lucien standing in the doorway but no one else,

“Lucien, where’s Ernest?” Hugo asked, seemingly becoming annoyed as well as worried over the whereabouts of his son,

“About that…” Lucien started, turning his gaze into the hall for a moment before quickly moving back to the stares of his parents, “Ernest won’t be joining us tonight … or ever again …” the young emo explained, quickly realising a long pause wouldn’t be the best option as he quickly stopped either one of his Fathers could protest, stepping further into the room, “Because someone new will be taking Ernest's place” just as he finished speaking, a tall figure walked into the room beside him, a long, tight fitting, pale orange cocktail dress swept the floor behind the person as their long braided hair lay over a single exposed shoulder.

The light of the room hit the persons face, capturing the perfectly applied make-up that sculpted their features beautifully and it was then they realised,

“Ernest?” they both asked, quite bewildered, watching the young Vega nervousness build up which did not go unnoticed by Lucien,

“Actually, may I introduce our newest addition to the Vega-Bloodmarch Family, Emily, Emily Dickinson Vega, my sister” he announced, wrapping a supportive arm around his sibling to give them some encouragement, “If it’s okay with her Fathers, she would very much like to join us for dinner?” Lucien asked softly, smile on his face as he waited for their parent’s reactions.

Unsurprising to Lucien, Damien was the first to move, wasting no time in in pushing his chair out from under himself to embrace his daughter,

“Oh, my dear, of course you can join us for dinner and for any other meals you want to” he whispered through tears he didn’t even know were running down his face, “now I understand the make-up, I’m sorry I didn’t see the signs sooner, I never wanted you to feel scared to be who you are” he whispered, the scene in the Bloodmarch home was one to remember when Emily wrapped her arms around his step-father, holding onto him as if their lives depended on it, however, there was still only one other person they needed to complete this little family moment, Hugo.

Everyone slowly turned their heads to see the larger man carefully rising from his seat, moving around the ornate furniture to move closer to where his child stood, arms back by her side as she stood tall and strong,

“Dad, I know this is sudden but I’ve been hiding for so long, I didn’t know who I was but I saw Damien doing so many things that made me think, he showed me how happy he was, I saw the life of someone who was truly happy, all this” she gestured to herself as she continued, “made me realize who I really am and I’m sorry for not being able to tell you sooner … I know I ruined your life for years with all the stupid shit I did but all the stupid thoughts in my head, I was scared, alone, I-“ her rambling was cut short when a pair of quite muscular arms pulled her forward and into a tight but comforting embrace,

“You are my child, my flesh and blood, you are everything to me and I love you, never forget that, no matter who you are, you are a Vega” he reassured, whispering just loud enough for Damien and Lucien to hear the loving exchange of words as they both smiled proudly.

Soon enough, two smaller arms snaked their way around Hugo as a small sob echoed in the large room causing any existing space in the embrace to disappear as it tightened,

“I was so scared you would hate me, I was meant to be your son, the man of the hous-“ her hurtful words were stopped as she was carefully pushed backwards, a hand laid gently on her cheek, forcing her to blurrily look up at a smiling Hugo,

“You have always been my daughter, even if we didn’t know that until now, you were and always will be my baby girl” he explained, his voice soothing any doubt the young Vega had before the wrestling nerd added just one more sentence, “And I think being married to Damien is an automatic law that I accept whatever part of the LGBT you realise you’re apart of … I think I’d be a bit hypocritical if I didn’t accept you as my daughter” the taller man finished and after a few moments of silence, the room filled with giggles from the man in question,

“Your Fathers right” Damien managed to say through soft giggles, “Excuse my French but … I’d kick his ass if he didn’t” he smirked before quickly pushing the three of them towards the table, “Now, if you children, yes, I’m also talking about you too Hugo, don’t get to the table to eat, the food will go cold and I’ll lock the refrigerator as punishment” the Victorian man threatened as the Family rolled their eyes but obediently followed his orders, spending the rest of the night laughing, talking and finally, for the first time in a while, being a family.

[pixieungerstories]

Quarantine

They always say ‘buy the worst house on the best block that you can afford’ and god knows this place was a total shit hole.  800 square feet on an overgrown lot surrounded by McMansions.  Hell, I paid less for the place that the land was worth.  I’m amazed someone hadn’t bulldozed the place years ago.

To make a long story short, I did not look a gift house horse in the mouth.

I mean, it wasn’t a total write off.  None of the windows were smashed.  There were mature fruit trees in the backyard.  If you ignored the weeds and rotting fruit, there was a lot of potential.  The plumbing was lead pipes and the electrical was knob and tube, but I know people and I could trade favours to get that replaced.  The foundations were good and the roof barely leaked.

I spent the summer camping in a tent in the back yard and slowly getting the place winterized enough that I could move it.

It was still a creepy ass house when I did.  It had a boiler.  I had no idea how to deal with that, but I was learning.  And I learned how to ignore the whistles, hissing and banging sounds that went with having a boiler.  The old rads were cast iron with pretty little details in the corners.

There were holes in the plaster, but I just ignored them.  It wasn’t worth fixing when I was going to gut the place and put up drywall eventually.  It just made it easier to get at the plumbing.

I started just living in the kitchen and ignoring the rest of the house.  I had disconnected the rest of the electrical and plumbing and was using that as a home base while I renovated outwards from there.

There is nothing quite as creepy as sleeping in a sleeping bag on what were probably asbestos tiles in an old house that makes the weird noises that old houses make.  I kept reminding myself that they only seemed louder than normal because the place was empty and there was nothing to muffle the sound.  The shrieking had to be the upstairs window that didn’t quite shut properly.

I had the feeling that something was watching me and prayed to god it wasn’t rats.

I was in this for the long haul.  Get up, shower at the gym, go to work, come home, renovate until it got dark, shower at the gym, camp out in the kitchen.  Not exciting, but satisfying.  Let’s face it, this was the only way I was ever going to be able to afford a house.

When the work from home order came, I had to actually get a phone line installed so I could have internet access.  Me, my laptop and a kitchen table I rescued from the curbside a while back.

The creepy feeling was worse.  I told myself it had to be the isolation kicking in.  I skyped with my best friends at night to make up for it.  The power was still a bit dodgy and kept going out, but that’s what laptop batteries and cell phones are for, right?

I was sure the cough was from the dust.

The guy delivering groceries left them on the sidewalk instead of the porch.  It was fine.  I understood completely.  I hadn’t done much work on the outside of the building at all. 

I realized I was sneezing a bit when I started having to use toilet paper as kleenex.

I was fine.  I was young and healthy.  I didn’t have any sick days at work so I was determined to just push through.

I tried to get more rest.

I dreamed about something laying a cool hand on my forehead.

The grocery store was out of thermometers.

I mean, did it really matter if I had a fever?  I wasn’t leaving the house to share with anyone.

My cough got worse overnight.  I was vaguely aware of someone lifting me up and holding a cup of cool water to my lips.  I was so fucking thirsty. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” I mumbled.  “I don’t want you to get sick.”

“I won’t,” a rumbling voice assured me.

I didn’t remember making soup, but I jolted into awareness sitting at the table with a steaming bowl in front of me.  Chicken noodle out of a can.  It’s not that hard to make.  I’m sure I could add water and heat in my sleep.  Apparently, I just did.

I was so cold that night.  I don’t know where the extra blankets came from, but they were there in the morning.

I don’t know how I ordered a bed while I was sick, but it was there and on my credit card.  So was the mattress and sheets.  It must have been the fever talking when I ordered them.  I would not have picked out anything that old fashioned looking.

How did I get all this stuff up to the second floor bedroom?  I’m sure I don’t remember stripping the paint off the closet doors.   I must be losing my mind.  I slept, I ate, I stopped logging in at work.  I just needed to concentrate on getting better.

By the time I was able to stay awake for more than an hour at a time, the city was shut down.  I was confined to my house whether I liked it or not.  I was suddenly glad my fever addled brain had ordered a bed while I still could.  

The watched feeling was worse.  I ordered some rat traps with my groceries.  I didn’t catch anything.  They didn’t take the bait.  I swear I heard snickering when I checked them in the morning.  That was a new sound for the boiler to make.

“I am losing my mind,” I repeated to myself.  Then blushed when I realized I had said it aloud.  “And yes, I also talk to myself,” I added for good measure.  “At least it is some sound,” I muttered.  “I should turn on some music or something.”

Work was officially shut down but I still had the dumpster outback.  I spend my awake time cleaning out the other rooms.  The advantage of living in a construction zore was all the dust masks.  When I needed to actually go out, that might help.  In the meantime, I carefully sorted through the things the previous owners had left behind.  Some of it was just trash, but there were some old photographs, lost buttons, even a single antique earring.

“No chance of finding a pair, I bet.  Still this could be made over into a necklace or something.”  Shit.  I was talking to myself again, wasn’t I?

I still got tired easily.  I dreamed about my mom stroking my hair as I slept.

The footprints I couldn’t explain away.

I had taken down a section of wall and spent the day carrying out the chunks of plaster before microwaving a pizza pop and tucking in early.  In the morning there were footprints in the dust.  They weren’t mine.  They were huge and it was hard to believe they were human.  Weird long toes, with the claw tips a little in front were not what I was expecting.

That was the first time I had wanted to leave the house.

I grabbed my stuff and made it to the front yard before I was spotted by a passing patrol car and ordered back inside.  I had no idea how to explain that I thought there was some sort of monster living in my house.  I was shaking as I went back inside.

“Hello?”  I called from the doorway, ready to run.  I had no idea where I could even run to.  “Um…  Is anyone there?”  I don’t know what I was expecting.  “Hi?  Um ….  I bought the house, I didn’t know there was any … thing living here.  I have been trying to fix it up.”

“I know.”

Fuck.  The scratchy, rasping bass voice was not what I was expecting.  “I … uh…  I can go back to camping in the yard,” I suggested.

“No.”

I waited to hear if he (?) was going to say anything else.

Apparently not.

“Uh … no I can’t stay here?  Or no, you don’t even want me camping in the backyard?”

“If I didn’t want you here, I would have had many opportunities to get rid of you.”

Shit.  That wasn’t ominous or threatening at all.

With a low chuckle the voice asked, “Did you mean to say that out loud?”

I froze and tried to remember what I had said.  Oh.  “No, that was an accident.  I’m not used to having anyone around to hear me.”

“I always hear you.”

I closed the door and went out to sit in the garden for a moment to think about that.  I ended up pacing, swearing and wishing for a cigarette.  I hadn’t smoked in years.    The sun started to go down and the bugs came out.  I was being eaten alive outside.  Going inside was scary but he was right.  He had lots of time to …

I flung open the door.  “Did you order furniture on my credit card?”  I demanded.

The laughter that rang out was a whole other level of creepy.  I shivered and thought about going back outside.  The door pulled itself closed behind me.  I spun to look at it and didn’t see anything.  I could hear something breathing. I turned again.  Nothing.

“If we are both going to live here, can we at least agree on some ground rules?”

“Like what?” was almost purred in my ear.  Looking around wildly, I still couldn’t see anything.

I was shaking now.  “Is there a way for you to be less scary so I don’t have a heart attack?” I squeaked.

There was nothing but silence.  Still my sense of the presence suggested it was gone.

I didn’t sleep that night.  I would just start to nod off then jerk myself awake and look wildly around the room.  I never saw anything.

Six am, my alarm went off and I could smell coffee.

All the dust had been swept up.

“Hello?” I whispered.

Nothing.  I had coffee and cereal and tried not to think about my surprise roommate.  I was so tired, I passed out at my computer in the kitchen at some point that morning, only to wake in bed upstairs in the afternoon.  “I don’t want you to touch me while I’m sleeping,” I mumbled, painfully aware that there was dick all I could do to stop it.

“Alright,” the voice said, coming from somewhere in the direction of the closet.  “But don’t fall asleep at the table then.”

I breathed a faint sigh of relief.  I wasn’t expecting the next part.

“You need to eat something now.  You are still recovering.”

There was a can of soup heating on the stove.  My breakfast dishes were gone.  I found them clean and dry in the cupboard.  “Thank you,” I whispered.  He didn’t reply.  As I ate lunch, I was psyching myself into going upstairs to look in the closet.  The door had been painted shut when I got the house, but at some point had been stripped down to the bare wood.

I hadn’t worked up the nerve by the time I was done eating.  Or washing and drying the dishes.  I found myself at the bottom of the stairs staring up at the second floor.  Did I really want to see what was in that closet?

No.

But it would be better to look during the light of day.

Eventually, I made it up there.  I put my hand on the knob and tried to turn it.  It didn’t budge.

“You want rules?” the voice growled behind me.  I spun, there was nothing there.  “Do not open that door.  Do not come into my space.”

I went from trembling from nerves to bolting down the stairs in an instant.  I nearly tripped, but felt something - him? - catch me and set me on my feet.

“Careful,” he purred.

I spent the rest of the day in the garden again.  I was still out there when the sun went down and the backlight turned on.  Then the kitchen light and for a moment I could see something outlined against the antique curtains I hadn’t replaced in the kitchen.  I tried to remind myself that he wasn’t necessarily that big.  He might just be closer to the light and casting a bigger shadow.

I didn’t believe it, but I tried.

I crept back into the house like a scared child who wasn’t sure how angry their parents were going to be after they had done something wrong.  I turned on all the lights on the main floor and stayed in the kitchen away from the stairs.

“Planning on staying up all night?”

I jumped.  “How are you always behind me?”

“I live in the shadows.  Go to bed.”

“Um…  I was thinking, that should be your room, really.  Your closet.  You picked out the bed.  I can just camp down -”

“No.  Go to bed.”

“Do you really think I’m going to be able to sleep in a room with a closet that must not be opened?  I have read Blue Beard, you know.”

“So have I.  The wife gets the house and lives happily ever after.”

“The last wife does,” I pointed out.  “The first dozen or so didn’t.”

He chuckled at that.  “We made a deal, remember?”

“Are you teasing me?  What deal?”

“I don’t touch you in your sleep.  You don’t sleep in the kitchen anymore.”

“How big are you?”

The lights flickered and went off.

“Do you want to see me?”  he purred, so close that I could feel his breath on my neck.

“Not in the dark,” I squeaked.

“Go to bed.”  

The light snapped back on, leaving me blinking.

I spent the night sitting on the bed with my back pressed against the headboard trying to see the whole room at one.  Eventually, I fell asleep.

My alarm did not go off at six.  It had been turned off.  The coffee was ready but not turned on when I went down stairs.  The air smelled faintly of solder.  There was a post-it stuck to the coffee maker.  Fine copperplate handwriting told me:

I stared at it dumbly.  I had replaced the plumbing to the kitchen sink and the downstairs powder room and had been washing out of the sink since I had been forced to stay home.  The only other plumbing was the upstairs bathroom and the antique washing machine in the basement.  I pushed the button on the coffee maker and slowly crept upstairs.

Sure enough the stack of copper pipe waiting in the other bedroom was gone. 

Well, not gone.  I could see it installed through the holes in the walls.  I turned on the tap to the sink and sure enough, I had water.  I now had an upstairs, working bathroom with a clawfoot tub.

And no walls.

“I don’t like the idea of you watching me bathe,” I called out.  Then I felt like an idiot because if whatever it was had voyeur tendencies, it could have been watching me for months.  I tried all the taps and the toilet.  Everything worked.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, unsure if I was talking to myself.

“You’re welcome.”  It was the least creepy, most normal thing I had heard from him.

[zmediaoutlet]

in support of wildfire relief, @alulaspeaks donated $50 and requested Diego/Grace. Thank you for donating!

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The mansion is always a little cold. Klaus used to say it was because Dad was cold-blooded. Diego used to say it wasn't that, it was just that Dad was a mean, cheap bastard, and he didn't care if anyone else was comfortable. Or healthy. Or happy. There was a reason he spent so much time in the kitchen, when they were kids. The stove was always on, the oven always working. Plus, Mom was there, and that just made—everything better.

She spends less time in the kitchen, now that they've all moved out. Diego comes back to visit, as often as he thinks he can sneak past Dad. Without a family to cook for, Mom spends more time cleaning, arranging, organizing things that don't need organizing. Homemaking, for a home that's empty. Diego watches her, quiet in the background, and watches her piece together a quilt in scraps of silk he recognizes from her own wardrobe of clothes—pink and deep blue and somber staid black—and she sews contentedly, working together the little heptagons, humming some song he doesn't know except in the sweet rich tone of her voice. He steps forward finally when she finishes the last stitch, and smiles contentedly down at the pattern even though no one is around to see that she's done so, and she looks up in mildest surprise and then her lips curve, painted deep red, warm as sunlight. "Diego," she says, with real pleasure. "I'm so happy to see you."

"I'm happy to see you, too, Mom," he says, and sits beside her.

She doesn't comment on his uniform of black-on-black, doesn't comment on the knives still slung around his chest. She holds his hand in one of hers and touches his temple with soft, perfectly-manicured fingers, and tilts her head, looking into his eyes. "You look tired, sweetheart," she says, and he is. She thumbs the cut on his cheek, professional, but he knows it doesn't need stitches and apparently she knows it, too, because she doesn't comment. "You should get more sleep."

"Yeah, I probably should," he says, and she smiles at him again in that way she has—understanding, not judging. Wanting to help but not insisting on helping. She drags her fingers through his hair, mussing it up where it's stiff from dried sweat and salt, from not showering for a few days, from old hair gel that hasn't washed out, and her expression doesn't flicker. Her hand cups the back of his head, and he closes his eyes and could sleep, right there. "Mom," he says, wanting—something. To be a kid again. To curl up with his head in her lap, like he used to, and have her sing problems away. He lifts his hand to her wrist and wraps her forearm in a careful grip, and she's warm, soft. Perfectly human except in how she's not. He pulls her hand away, and kisses the smooth knuckles, and she looks at him softly, as she always does, and doesn't object when he stands up and goes away, back out into the night to do his job, wishing—wanting—

He comes back. He always does. Mom makes him dinner, seared scallops and wild rice and broccolini in a sherry-lemon glaze, and hums and washes dishes while he eats it, alone at the table in the kitchen, the only table that ever actually felt like part of the home. When he's done she takes the plate, and washes it too, and he sits there with his head on his folded arms, and feels warm and content even in this cold mausoleum of a house, and when delicate fingers touch the back of his neck he sighs, melts. It's a soft, sure massage. Mom the caretaker, Mom the nurse, Mom who knows—everything. Everything, that could ever make something better for one of her kids. She stands behind him, her silk skirt swishing softly around his back and hips, and her hands are—perfectly firm. Her thumbs drag a solid, furrowing calmness up around his spine, enough to make him groan, and she laughs very softly, behind him. "Oh, silly," she says, always gentle and never mocking. "You're not doing your stretches, are you."

He's not. He's too tired, most of the time, getting back to his shitty boiler room under the gym when dawn's already breaking. Mom had drilled them all, with Pogo, with Dad watching. After strenuous exercise, one must stretch the muscle to ensure that everything was in working order, that one might be ready for tomorrow.

"That's okay," she says, soft. Her hands frame his neck, holding him. Her thumbs rest just under his ears, her fingers curled around his throat. "You know you can always come to me, if you need help."

He opens his eyes, looks at the oven. She's making a pie. Cherry; his favorite. "I know I can, Mom," he says, voice thick, and sits up, and feels the swirl of silk around him as she so-sweetly pets over his neck, and then steps away, on to take care of some other easy, beloved problem.

He thinks that might be his issue. He tries not to think about it most of the time, honestly, but sometimes in the dawnlight when he's trying to catch an hour of sleep, his bruises aching, he can't help it, his brain going over old shit while his body tries to shut down. His mom, she's not—she's not really his mom. She's not human, even. Except for how she is. Except for how she kissed his forehead when she tucked him in at night, and put band-aids on his scrapes, and accepted the stick-figure drawing he'd done of her when he was six with pure happiness, and hugged his head to her soft stomach, saying I love it, Diego, and he knew that it was true, just like he knew that she loved him. She loved him. She loves him. She's the only one, he thinks, in the whole world, who actually does. His siblings are all selfish shitheads; his father is obviously a monster. Pogo was just Dad's right hand man, doing his work when Dad couldn't be bothered. There was only Mom, to care about them, to make anything—bright. There was only the way she'd sat on the edge of his bed, when he'd had a nightmare about some robber or kidnapper or whatever that they'd killed, and held his face, and then let him curl up in her skirts and cry, and he'd felt… everything, for her. He still does.

He breaks his arm. It was a dumb mistake, one he would've been rightly scolded for as a kid. A fall he misjudges, a landing he should've made. It hurts in a world-whitening way and he doesn't think the bone is sticking out but to be honest, he's not looking. He dispatches the bad guys with his left hand, and gathers up his knives, and then he's—shit, he's on the wrong side of town, from home. He really, really wants to go home.

The mansion. It's fucking cold, inside. Dad's car is gone but the lights are still on, because the lights are always on, and he makes his way to the kitchen on half-numb feet only Mom's not there. Of course not, he thinks. Who would she be cooking for?

He finds her on her private balcony, among her paintings. She's sewing. The quilt's nearly done. "Mom," he says, aching, and she looks up and smiles at him in that easy, red-lipped curve, but then her eyes flicker and focus, and her lips part, and she stands, the quilt tumbling from her hand.

"Diego," she says, gentle concern, and he sways, and she—catches him. Her grip is easy but there's iron behind it. He leans into her. Lets go.

He drifts. She works on him, humming that song. There's pain and then there isn't, and then there is again, distant, a low drone at the edge of attention that doesn't compete with Mom's voice, keeping him steady. He wakes and there's a splint on his arm, and stitches, and a bandage she's wrapping around his bare skin. Feels like a while, since someone has touched his bare skin. But then he remembers, oh, that's right. The last person was—Mom. It's always Mom.

He drifts, wakes. He's been laid on his old bed, in his old bedroom. The lamp is on and Mom's sitting at his desk, sewing. Humming. He curls his fingers and they still work. Thank god. "Mom," he says, and her eyes sweep up, hard to see with how she's backlit, but she says, warm, as always: "Diego."

He reaches out his good hand. She stands, and he notices for the first time that she's wearing black, striped with white, and there's blood spattered on the white parts, the silk ruined. He feels bad. Heat rises up behind his eyes. "Don't cry, silly," she says, but he's crying, not hard but—steady, the wet seeping down his cheek into his ear, tickling. She sits beside him on the bed and wipes the tears, smiling at him, and he says, "I love you so much," and she says, quietly, "I know you do, dear. All good boys love their mothers."

Good boys. He closes his eyes, curling on the bed around his hurt arm. Her fingers are light, on his cheek. In his hair. On the back of his neck, holding him in a grounding sweet grip, and he gets hold of her skirt, tries to—he doesn't know. Be strong. Only—only Mom has never needed him to be strong. She's only ever needed him to be himself.

"I love you, Mom," he says, slow, and she traces behind his ear, holds his throat. He swallows, and turns on his back, looking up at her, holding her skirt in his good hand. "I—I need—"

He can't say it. It's too—weird. Too big. She's leaning over him, as steady and calm as she was when he was five, when he was fifteen, and he's twenty-five now and doesn't feel a single day older. Still needing her, as much as he always has. Her smile is soft, unchanging. "I know what you need, sweetheart," she says, soft, and she doesn't move anything but her hands, going to his belt, unbuckling. Unzipping. Her hands are warm against stomach when she brushes it with her knuckles; her grip, when she reaches inside his boxer-briefs, is gentle but sure.

He drags in air. He doesn't want to—to make a sound. He keeps his eyes on Mom's face and spreads his legs on the thin mattress, his legs too long now so his boots hang off the end. Her eyes stay fixed on his, her smile sweet, not budging. Her fingers are soft, dry—he's stiffening up fast, under the steady, sure massage she's giving him, and when he's chubbed up enough, really hard, she switches her grip without a flicker of her expression and starts pumping his dick, steady as a metronome. He's breathing open-mouthed, now. His balls feel tight, clenching up already. God, her hand—it's so warm, and he's leaking bad from how much he wants this and so it's lubed now, too, slick and tight, good enough that his gut's spiraling, heating, his bones feeling liquid. Her other hand rests in her lap, close to where he's wrinkling up her skirt, and he turns his head finally, can't take the steady sweet look anymore, when it's coming this fast, his thighs clenching up, his hips pulsing, starting to fuck up into where she's working him. He yanks at her skirt—his eyes caught, on the soft empty curl of her free hand—and when he comes it's a wreck, a long spurt that hits his chest, messing his stomach and her hand and his shorts, like he hasn't come in a month. Feels like he hasn't come that way his whole life. He pants, his eyes squeezed shut, and he says, insane, "Kiss me," and there isn't a pause before he senses her body leaning, and he turns his head, and she kisses him—on the cheek, soft warm pressure, the faintest impression of her unnecessary breath.

She cleans up his crotch, dabs at his sweater. "Hm, what a mess," she says, gently amused. "We'll have to fix up these stains later, won't we."

"Yes, Mom," he says, and it should be vile but it just—isn't. It's just his mom, taking care of him, like she always does. When he opens his eyes she's smiling at him and there's still—god, there's still come, spilled over her knuckles. He takes a deep breath, lifts up on one elbow. "Mom."

"Now, now," she says, that so-easy scold. "It's time for you to sleep now, sweetheart. You've had a big day. I'll come and check on you in the morning, okay?"

She picks up the quilt and drapes it over him. It's warm, too, the silk soft against his bare hands, his throat. She tucks it in at his shoulders, like he's a kid again, and then leans in and kisses his forehead, and strokes his cheek with her thumb. "Sleep tight, darling," she says, and her skirt swirls when she goes away—crumpled and bloodstained, but still elegant somehow, because it's her. She flicks off the lamp on the desk, and closes his door so an inch of light from the hall seeps through—the only nightlight Dad would ever allow them—and then he listens to the tap of her heels, down the hall, and the distant song as she starts humming again.

His arm hurts. He shouldn't be able to sleep. He closes his eyes, breathing in the quilt. It smells like—cherries, and vanilla, and warm bread. He turns his cheek against the pillow and imagines her hand, curving around his neck, his throat. Pressing down. He sleeps, and dreams of singing.