#also i dont have the time or energy to pretend to be press. or lie about having professional interests. im a bad liar and also a hobbyist

[wrestlezon]

aww man... i'll miss the sheer volume of free high res photos he'd upload to his website, but im glad scott lesh is gainfully employed by aew nowadays. get that bread

[10boys]

MLQC:Kissing/make-out

♡ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

*how they like their mouth action

Victor Kissing:

-Victor doesnt do “small pecks”, if your lips are on his he simply cannot just take a “peck”

-Even short kisses are deep and invading, his lips know exactly how to manipulate against yours

-He’ll kiss you where and when he wants and only where and when he wants

-He of course won’t oblige to a request from you

-But you rarely want to give him that satisfaction, he knows if he teases you with almost kisses you’ll start to whine which is what he wants

-His urge usually arises from admiring your face (canon bc of like...all his cards lol), the sunlight hits your eyes perfectly making them a glistening shade lighter, a sunkissed glow making your features appear softer. Your bright eyes accompanied by your long lashes shoot his way , catching him in his trance. He grins as a small blush creeps to his cheeks , knowing he’s seemingly been caught.

-Your tongue quickly made a lap over your lips, drawing his attention downward. Before you had time to wittily joke on him like he does you, his lips are pressed to yours.

-His kisses are deep. they’re possessive. they’re full of all the words he doesn’t say and all emotions he doesn’t show

-Saucy victor loves making you stick your tongue out so he can slowly lick and suck it ;)

-He doesnt think much about it, he just goes in.

- Favorite place to kiss is your lips and ear. He lovesss when you hug him with your head snuggled in his chest, it makes it easy for him nuzzle into your hair and leave small kisses and nibs on ur ear tips

-Loves being kissed on his chest (as tall as you can reach) and back on his shoulder mussels

-Keeps his hand in your hair for his comfort

-Definitely holds your jaw while he sucks

Lucien:

-Lucien loves to give you surprise kisses!

-You two are having one of your guys’ usual library dates

-You’ve been aimlessly wondering through the shelves for a while, collecting interesting finds as you go. After retrieving around 3 or 4 books you venture back to find lucien whos proudly holding down the fort (your guys’ fav spot)

-He leans aginst his seat leasurly holding a wide book infront of him, covering his face from view

-You set down your books and pull out the seat near him, beginning to pry the book away from his face

-“ You can’t see that badly? Did you bring your gla-“

-Suddenly he tugged your face closer to share his behind the book, creating a sensual secret space only occupied by the two of you

-His lavender eyes shares hypnotizing relaxation through with you, his soft smile sent your cheeks a blaze after realizing how near they were to your own. He took a moment sending suductive messages with his eyes, always so full of passion and interest. You watched his delicate eye lashes lower as his lips puckered.

-You instinctively copy his actions, closing the gap.

-Luciens favorite place to kiss is either your fingers or peppered kisses across your face

-Opposite of Victor, sultry lucien likes sticking his tongue out for you to lick and suck ;)

-He’s not afraid of pda, loves leaving kissing on your neck and ears when queued up for a new restaurant or in the line to get coffee

-He loves to build the moment up for your kisses too, sometimes he’ll just stare at your lips bluntly while caressing your face. Being under this intense analyzation brings heat to your cheeks as you try not to grin bashfully, he can’t help to lick his lips, you can only imagine what he’s thinking...

Gavin:

-Gavin gives u uwu kisses

-Usually kisses you when he thinks you’re doing something cute to hide his blushing face

-So yeah you get alottt of kisses

-Its usually a “grabs your whole face and mushes his agaisnt yours” type kiss. Butterfly kisses mixed with full-face

-Loves kissing your hand cause it makes him feel like your gentleman

-Loves getting kisses on his forhead and scars

-Sultry gavin loves getting kisses on his chest and nipples ;)

-He also likes to suck fingers ;)

- You were on your bed taking some last-minute notes off your laptop. Gavins head would usually be laying on your thigh at times like this, making it a bit difficult to focus and write

-Which is exactly why he’s across the room on the couch watching TV until you’re finished. He likes looking through the silly things you watch on Hulu and Youtube. You turn your head and catch a glimps of him, body leasurly laid across your sofa with one airm raised to support his head. The odd position causes his shirt to lift, showing his extremely toned V line.

-The view causes you to bite your lip as a malicious thought arises

-“Wahh~ Officer Gavin~ theirs a bug ~ come kill it ~ save me ~”

-He rolls from his previous position on the couch to foot of your bed.

-“Where? I dont see it”

-“Right there!!” you excitedly point to a corner across you, seemingly containing nothing

-He turns inspecting the area, beginning to confront you about its location

-“It just went under that box !! ewww get it”

-You watch as he bends over, searching between and under for said “spider” , but all you’re seatching for is the heart to stop him

-His shirt swings sways and rises as he bends and straightens out, his muscles tighten everytime he reaches while his thighs thicken with every squat

-“Baby im really not seeing it-” he begins before catching you in the middle of your daze. Your eyes are fixed on him but not his face, nor the so-called spider he was looking for

“You think you’re funny” he replies with a smile as he makes his way to the bed crawling on from the foot

-You playfully tease and squeeze his face, admiring his obedience

-He cups his hand over yours, eyes dazzling over a tinge of pink as you two share this loving and intimate moment. You poke a few silly kissy faces making him laugh, inching closer to close the gap. Your smiling faces press against each other, happiness is all you are with him.

Kiro:

-Wants the most kisses

-Or more properly, verbally and physically requests them the most

-Wake up kiss , good night kiss, ily kiss, you’re cute kiss, thank you kiss, I’ve just been stairing at you for 5 minutes kiss, convincing you not to leave kiss, jealous kiss, and many more

-He doesnt necessarily build up a moment every time either

-Ofc he stares lovingly into ur eyes with a sweet grin and blushy cheeks before he dives in intimately

-But most the time he just dives in wheneverr, He likes seeing you suprised and blushy over him. While you’re preparing a meal or finishing documents he’ll just run up to plant one on u, accompanied by a super hero kiro squeeze

-Loves to give cheek and face-mush kisses

-Loves to receive lip, face and eye kisses

-Loves kisses down his spine, when your attention is on him

-Honestly, sultry kiro will kiss and suck along the way to any and every area

-Give him a surprise lip kiss to unlock ‘weird’ kiro

-You sat across him watching as the food 10x bigger than his mouth goes down with ease, goku is that you?

-It seems he’s caught onto your intrigue, his bubbly blue eyes meet yours as a cheeky grin appears

-“Mmm this is so good! Here, try some!” He extends a cream puff twords you encouraging a bite

-You lower his hand as a respectable “no thank you” guesture, his half aten puff sadly falls back go the plate

-Although he’s easily the cutest boy in the world with squirrel stuffed cheeks, his messy left over just didn’t seem apatizing enough

-You reach out for a fresh puff and get swatted away just as quickly , you raise your gaze to kiros brows in a mighty furrow

-“And what was wrong with my puff?!?!” he exclaims pretending to be overwhelmed with offense. You giggle at his child-like energy and pettyness as you use the swatted hand to squeeze his puff-full cheeks.

-“Nothings wrong ! You were just enjoying them so well i wanted my own” you lie. He’s cute, but he’s no fool. His eyes pour into you, somehow letting you know he’s not biting that foney excuse. He smiles to himself although a lightbulb went off that only shined on him.

-“Of course not chip princess! Whats mine-” he begins placing a puff in his mouth

-“Is yours”. He closes his eyes and leans across the table, his lips wet and pink around the pale colored puff are inviting. His eyelashes cast a soft shadow on his cheeks , which seem to always have the slightest ting of pink when infront of you. His blonde locks shine like diamonds in the corner of the dimely-lit restaurant , you swear there are no circumstances that could make this man anything but beautiful.

-His eyes open, wet and dark as he pleads silently for you to finish the minastration. He knows how to charm you , and his cute ass is making it work, but not this time.

-You lean over the table taking the puff from his mouth, swiflty replacing it with a bold, blunt, but gentle kiss.

-A faint noise escapes his mouth at the sudden gesture, his now wide eyes find yours only inches away. The tips of his ears blush red before he pulls away.

“You’re bold miss chips ! If you thought i tasted better, why didn’t you just say so?”

.....x

Hi its been so long i missed writing :,) I have more shorter blurbs in the drafts so i should have more out soon !! Also requests are open ! Ty - myk

[punkscowardschampions]

Ronnie & Joe

Ronnie: [is gonna rock up late despite literally living with Charlie so enjoy the entrance everybody]

Joe: [when you weren’t invited but still gonna show up like you have somewhere better to be, love that for you, the effort we’ve not gone to because we live here so it’s kinda okay but not really Joseph, also I imagine kinda shook she ended up showing]

Ronnie: [likewise in the sense that she dresses the same everywhere she goes unless it’s a job interview or court appearance lol but we know she looks good if you’re Joseph and into it, I imagine her zoning in on Jamie immediately like who the fuck is this and then oh I’ve heard nothing about you kinda energy soz gal]

Joe: [rude but not untrue in this case, at least Charlie can make it seem like you’re joking and Joe can go get you a drink like soz this is all we have energy ‘cos in jokes]

Ronnie: [I highly doubt they have enough seats around that table so I also imagine her dragging up something to sit on like yeah I’m here to stay bitches and drinking Joe’s drink while he’s gone as a throwback to when she did when they met at that gig and cos we’re obvs claiming him LOL]

Joe: [we know the food is gonna be studenty anyway so having smaller portions won’t kill any of us lmao, just dying at how shocked Sophie is having to conceal she is, host on queen, boring boyfriend having no opinions of course]

Ronnie: [don’t worry gal depending how much of a jealous rage we get into we probably won’t be eating it so you’ll still have brownies left, her face would be iconic and I totally picture Marc on his phone the entire time because Paul used to do that when he was with Trace]

Joe: [giving nothing to this bizarre situation, too real, Charlie and Sophie holding this together, soz guys, Joe jus amused af, do we sit opposite or next to hmm]

Ronnie: [read that as soz gays, ILY mum & dad, I think he needs to sit opposite Jamie so that she can accuse them of eye fucking each other or whatever so probably next to]

Joe: [okay yes gather ‘round everyone]

Ronnie: she lives here

Joe: yeah I told you, Silent Bob’s gf

Ronnie: you said he had a bitch not shes been chained to the radiator since youse lot moved in

Joe: maybe that’s his secret

Ronnie: whens he letting you have your go

Joe: got my own radiator you can have a go on when this is over

Joe: not to brag or nothing

Ronnie: wont be over til the fat flatmate sings & the other one sucking you off while her & mariah duet and the boyfriend pretends he aint watching youse instead is fuck all to brag about

Joe: be lucky if it got close to that level of mildly interesting

Joe: where are you in all this then

Ronnie: under the sink looking for drain cleaner or whatever else i can drink

Joe: why do you get to have all the fun?

Ronnie: i dont waste my time asking bullshit questions

Joe: how are we gonna waste our time

Ronnie: im gonna kill your shared girlfriend & youre gonna cry about it

Joe: I don’t think I am

Joe: no amount of tragedy is gonna breakthrough the chemical fog

Ronnie: you would if you could

Joe: [🙄 at her]

Ronnie: [tips however much is left of her drink into his lap not at all accidentally but we know Charlie and Soph will pretend it was]

Joe: [whip them off to go get changed boy]

Ronnie: [when you wanna follow him but you just gotta glare instead]

Joe: [probably taking whatever we’ve got in to make this go easier, ‘scuse us, so much missing out]

Ronnie: [you know she turned up already on something so do what you gotta do Joseph]

Joe: [Jamie should be talking to you about uni things thus alienating everyone else a lil ‘cos that is a bit rude and will annoy you gal]

Ronnie: [fully just opening up a wound over here literally cos she was already jealous but did not realise they had this much shit in common or anything in common actually so we’re just livid and bleeding]

Joe: [Sophie just running with the kitchen roll like omg do we have bandages guys like oh babe you truly only mean well, Charlie just giving the can you not looks of it all, Joe just jealous because we’ve obviously got our long sleeves]

Ronnie: [a spoken out loud fuck you at everyone but mainly Joe as we go to the bathroom to not deal with this but instead evoke the energy of when Mae downed that mouthwash because she definitely would and also go through the cabinets for anything sharp obvs]

Joe: [at least you can go under the guise of checking on her but really you’re just seeing what she’s doing]

Ronnie: [1000% have not locked the door because we wanted him to follow us but that won’t stop her telling him to get out because walking contradiction forever]

Joe: [locks it behind him in response]

Ronnie: [the most intense glare in response because could not be more livid rn]

Joe: [grabbing wherever the wound is like we’re gonna kiss it better or something like Soph for a casual bit of blood drinking]

Ronnie: [obviously have to push him away really hard because we’re obviously really into it and excuse you boy we’re trying to be angry and hate you, soz to all the flatmates when you hear that crashing about]

Joe: [lmao this tiny bathroom getting destroyed, steady yourself and her despite that clearly not being what she wants right now, roll up a sleeve ‘you never did the X’]

Ronnie: [the glorious visual of trying to get past him to leave/push him away again at the same time in a small space so you just end up pressed up against each other and the door making eye contact and it’s hot af ‘you never took me anywhere’]

Joe: [‘so let me’ do you mean let’s get out of here or in a saucy way either or you skinny as hell girl so if you not really trying to leave it’s easy not to let you]

Ronnie: [‘she’ll let you’ because we’re not just dropping this even if we want to]

Joe: [‘who?’ like an oblivious boy ‘cos clearly not where our head is]

Ronnie: [a really vicious read of Jamie based on what we’re learned this evening that I’m not gonna do because I am not that mean but it’s obvious it’s her and not Sophie we’re talking about, hope you don’t hear us gal]

Joe: [‘I’m not interested’ in every sense right now ‘and you know that, stop pissing about’]

Ronnie: [‘wasn’t any other cunt round the table hanging on her every fucking word, I know that’ because that was blatant Jamie]

Joe: [‘I can’t help it that her fella’s an accountant’ what do you do Marc, do any of us know lol, shrugs ‘we go to the same school, that’s it’ and a look like whatever the fuck this is is clearly more]

Ronnie: [she would wanna lol but we can’t because still mad ‘that’s it?’ not actually a question though more like you better be telling the truth boy ‘why the fuck have you never told me about her then?’]

Joe: [‘I thought I had when I said he had a girlfriend’ not not a lie ‘none of them are what I want to talk about, that’s it’]

Ronnie: [‘you were thinking with this’ grabbing his dick when we say so ‘that’s it’ cos even if that was true Joseph we shade the rest of the flatmates often and you know damn well we love doing it]

Joe: [shakes head even though we are very clearly into that ‘she’s no Soph’ like it wouldn’t be as funny soz]

Ronnie: [‘is right’ like yeah I know you actually seriously wanna get with her, and moving away but not to leave but to pick back up whatever implement we were gonna hurt ourselves with before he came in but didn’t get chance to because we’re genuinely upset]

Joe: [literally putting ourselves in front of it like no ‘Ronnie’ like I don’t know how you’re going to even put it into words boy so it’s mainly a !!! look]

Ronnie: [a look that starts out like don’t try and stop me/fuck you but turns into !! when his does like say something/do something if you mean it]

Joe: [got to go in and kiss you whilst making her push whatever she was gonna use on herself into him, now or never, enjoy the tension finally getting released]

Ronnie: [obviously we’re kissing you back so we all know what’s gonna happen next lol, soz flatmates I really hope you can’t hear anything, especially Charlie cos you actually know they’re related]

Joe: [it is not a big flat so keep quiet, just think he’s comforting her for all this time or what, god bless]

Ronnie: [she would be trying to keep quiet but not for y’all more so he thinks she’s unimpressed/not that into it but that would literally last all of a second because she’s obviously very into it]

Joe: [the levels you aren’t gonna wanna go back in but can’t be seen as being romantic lads]

Ronnie: [I could easily have her leave if we want though because it’s a fact that she doesn’t wanna be here and everyone would be relieved except Joseph]

Joe: [that probably makes sense, honestly, and you’ve freaked them all out, as was the point]

Ronnie: [and lbr you’ve freaked yourselves out with how good that hook up was too so]

Joe: [just go hide in your room like you’re very taxed by that in an acceptable way boy]

Ronnie: [god knows where you’re gonna go gal but please don’t OD again like you literally did in Margate no time ago]

Joe: [the headfuckery]

Ronnie: [poor Charlie just like UMMM WTF cos she must look bad even for her rn and we’ve behaved terribly and then literally legged it so]

Joe: [thank god you’re such a natural party go-er so you can make up some excuse to put them all at relative ease but yeah, for sure like excuse me]

Ronnie: [might be fun to do a convo between them when we’re done with this one]

Joe: [I’m down even though I really haven’t used him yet, I’ll give it a go]

Ronnie: [yeah it’s been forever since we did the group chats with them and Bronson and Bea it feels like another life, I can send you the convo we did where she told him she met Joe if you like cos I re-read that the other day and it was pretty good]

Ronnie: [but the real question is who’s gonna break first and start a convo and how long are we leaving it?]

Joe: [please do ‘cos did not realize we’d done that tbh]

Joe: [I could make a case for either of them, him to prove he meant it as he left it last time but her so she can’t automatically be on the ‘it meant nothing’ total defensive hmm]

Joe: [some hours later when the party is over, or could be]

Joe: Charlie was going pub, he’s left here though

Ronnie: [even later because whatever she’s doing she’s messy and can’t reply to the extent that she doesn’t need to because he won’t be expecting her to and yet here we are]

Ronnie: did whitney ask you to pass it on to us cos hes still disappointed like

Joe: couldn’t say

Joe: just letting you know that you’ll have a free gaff for a while longer

Ronnie: where have i chucked the other one for the sake of this free gaff in your mind mckenna

Joe: alright, free rooms better than fuck all

Ronnie: its his emmy oggie i aint there either

Joe: anywhere good?

Ronnie: compared to what

Joe: established it’s no brag compared to tonight

Ronnie: not gonna stop you comparing me & her

Joe: compare to what?

Joe: pleasantries over cocopops

Ronnie: youll be interested in eating her out now youve got what you wanted off me

Ronnie: 9 is easier to carve than an 8 and you wont look like youre trying to copy the infinity sign one of your other exes wouldve got inked on her

Joe: it’s not remotely the fucking same

Joe: if I was arsed about getting my numbers up there’s millions of girls in this city I could hit up before you

Ronnie: yeah youre not related to any of em and theyd have less clue how to shoot up than you do

Joe: even if the related bit was ringing 100% true, you’re the only user in town now?

Joe: you don’t have to pervert it when it already was

Ronnie: youre already romanticising it like a fucking 13 year old so yeah i do cause one of us has to get real

Joe: you reckon I’m so okay with it just because I can admit I wanted it

Joe: who do you reckon you’re lying to like I weren’t there

Ronnie: who do you reckon youre talking to like i didnt fucking leave you there for a reason

Joe: Fuck off

Ronnie: i did

Joe: for someone who reckons they’re so open, you chat so much shit

Ronnie: open to what soft lad infection

Joe: scars and trackmarks on your sleeve

Ronnie: yeah

Joe: you didn’t miss much

Ronnie: no shit you didnt just invite me cause you wanted to fuck me

Ronnie: can do that anywhere

Joe: yeah and you didn’t just wanna come to make Soph cry, like

Ronnie: i owed you

Joe: get it off your to-do list then

Joe: well done

Ronnie: stop crying youll never look as ugly as horse girl doing it or go for as long as her

Joe: you love her, we all 👀

Ronnie: i said shut up

Joe: no, you say something that’s not stupid

Ronnie: what for fucks sake

Ronnie: what did you reckon id say when you started chatting shit like nothing happened

Joe: alright, I don’t know

Joe: it happened, right

Ronnie: you werent hallucinating

Joe: nothing that makes that happen in the bathroom cupboard

Joe: I don’t regret it, I know that

Ronnie: meant to be made up to hear it am i

Joe: nah, probably not

Joe: but you wanted me to talk about it so I am

Ronnie: i wanted you to take the fucking hint when i legged it as soon as

Joe: you could’ve blocked me, so

Joe: pardon me for not taking it that seriously

Ronnie: not your crazy ex & i couldnt deny you your bullshit heroics

Ronnie: mary aint carrying me anywhere and i know how bad you wanna see me turn blue

Joe: you like having a stalker, is what you mean

Ronnie: block me and get your whore flatmate to tell you what she likes about you

Ronnie: weve established i aint got the talent to sing no cunts praises

Joe: we’ve established I’m not interested in that

Ronnie: cause you want me to tell you how smart you are at fucking me instead of beat the shit out of you

Ronnie: it wont last

Joe: familys forever, sis

Ronnie: not to your ma baby

Ronnie: did i look enough like her for you

Joe: what do you reckon

Joe: your theory, not mine

Ronnie: mustve youve still not fucked off

Joe: you’ve got room for another face tat or two

Ronnie: go do that then

Joe: you can leave out the yes sir

Joe: not my fantasy

Ronnie: no shit like youve been my bitch since you hit send on facebook

Joe: 😂

Joe: I’ve been worse

Ronnie: you trying to turn me on or what its a bit late for it

Joe: just the once, alright

Joe: bit cliche but probably for the best considering

Joe: very sensible of you

Ronnie: cliche that my da didnt stick around long enough for his side of the family to properly cut or sew me up so ive gotta regret not getting chance to put a razor blade inside me before you 💔

Ronnie: now youre gonna reckon i care youve said the once ll do when i just hate you & hate how you fuck even more

Joe: Could’ve said it was about as much fun as

Joe: it’s alright

Joe: both confused, clearly

Ronnie: youre not confused youre fucking smug

Joe: hardly another achievement for the fridge door

Joe: what’s to be smug about

Ronnie: probably for the best i dont answer that if thats how you feel

Joe: come on

Joe: aside from proving you were full of shit about not wanting to as well

Ronnie: fuck you

Joe: you don’t want me to say how I really feel

Ronnie: making me cum earlier dont mean you know what i want now

Joe: right, you want me to declare my love so you get more out of telling me to fuck off, that’s more like it

Ronnie: do i fuck

Joe: then what do you want

Ronnie: like you give the slightest shit

Joe: I do too

Ronnie: no you dont

Joe: I fucking do

Joe: [prove it in a way only y’all would, carve her name or something]

Ronnie: [send him your own pics of the bite marks you’re covered in which is a self harming thing you’ve not done since you were a kid because it’s been a headfuck every second since you two met and we’re not coping honey]

Joe: you hungry?

Joe: you didn’t eat fuck all, I mean

Joe: could get something not dubiously prepared by Soph

Ronnie: hungry as you are funny

Joe: I weren’t trying to be

Joe: on the spectrum, or whatever you said

Ronnie: you wish you had the excuse or the musical prodigy status

Joe: 💔 about that genuinely

Joe: just a dickhead

Ronnie: yeah

Joe: I don’t know what to say

Joe: there’s no point saying I’m sorry

Ronnie: no point is right youre not sorry

Joe: nah

Joe: it’d be lovely for you if I’d found you and you were fine

Joe: but like you said, it ain’t about me or her, it’s about loads of shit and you clearly weren’t so

Joe: just seems pointless

Ronnie: im made up you finally got your head round it

Joe: Yeah well, I didn’t tell you I was a good person

Joe: don’t mean I don’t give no fucks, just ‘cos I ain’t trying to save you

Ronnie: you keep telling me you aint like it matters to me who you are

Joe: yeah, it doesn’t in why you’re fucked

Joe: but what do you want from me

Ronnie: its your fucking fault im like this climbing the walls same as when i was a kid

Joe: yeah ‘cos you were doing really great before weren’t ya

Ronnie: all you give a fuck about is letting yourself off the fucking hook

Joe: Blame me then what does it change

Joe: do something about it other than fucking yourself up, I don’t care

Ronnie: stop lying that youre bothered if your only answer to me losing my mind is that i was before

Joe: I can’t help you

Joe: If you thought I could, though why the fuck you would

Joe: then I am sorry

Ronnie: 💔🖕

Joe: I’ve got my own problems

Joe: if I had any solutions, I’d light ‘em up and shoot them into myself first, naturally

Ronnie: youve got a solution i gave it to you

Ronnie: why the fuck would you make me feel something

Joe: Selfishness

Joe: pure and simple

Ronnie: on your way to a grown up habit im dead proud

Joe: what more could I want

Ronnie: that to scab over seeing as youve finally admitted its bullshit

Joe: I still think about you constantly

Joe: I still want to know everything about you

Joe: I’d rot with you

Ronnie: youve got your own problems to think about

Joe: yeah, and that’s hell

Joe: I’ve done plenty of that

Ronnie: yeah and youve got your escape

Joe: take yours

Joe: can have plan bs and cs even if a is the best

Ronnie: youre the kid who tells the rest to jump off a bridge

Ronnie: cute

Joe: you’re implying I wouldn’t and all

Ronnie: i dont give a shit what you do but i aint giving you the satisfaction of being the last fuck i ever had

Ronnie: youd cling to life long enough to write a pathetic song about it

Joe: that’s the nicest thing you’ve said

Joe: which is saying something ‘cos you’re so sweet, like

Ronnie: youre welcome

Joe: I’ll do a Dylan style ballad about all your 👼🏼 deeds

Ronnie: thats the biggest turn off out of everything youve ever said or done

Joe: thank god, you’re insatiable 😏

Ronnie: once you said

Joe: not for my benefit

Ronnie: its all only for your benefit remember

Joe: if that were true you’d still be here

Ronnie: if it was true i could be

Joe: come back

Ronnie: cant ive got a face tat to get done

Joe: I understand

Joe: my art isn’t there yet

Joe: won’t ruin your beauty

Ronnie: go ed and chuck yourself off a bridge you dont have to wait for me to boot your door in & do you in for chatting shit

Joe: well I am already devvo I’m not a prodigy so yeah, add lack of a steady hand to the list of failures

Joe: probably the meds

Joe: you know being poetic is all I do, why have we downgraded it to chatting shit 💔

Ronnie: why are you calling me beautiful when you could write it in your suicide note for your ma theres your downgrade

Joe: you’re too romantic for your own good

Joe: I wouldn’t be writing a note, sorry to dash your illusions

Ronnie: not me saying i get you mckenna thats your delusion

Ronnie: what are you gonna draw on me then

Joe: you do but it’s more fun to take the piss and pretend you don’t so

Joe: That is the question

Joe: won’t brand you, don’t worry

Ronnie: if i dont want it ill cut it out no pressure

Joe: it’s just skin right

Ronnie: yeah

Joe: how olds your oldest scar

Ronnie: older than you

Joe: what did you do

Ronnie: i used to take headbanging literally

Joe: ah, the floor never saw you coming, yeah

Joe: I have a head scar too [cos he either does or did on the stalker show idk but there we go with a photo like she probably knows hun]

Ronnie: [I just imagine her smiling to herself like yeah I know nerd]

Ronnie: cant both be poets had to express myself somehow before i pushed a safety pin through my cheek

Joe: that explains the permanent 😾

Joe: fucked the muscles, like

Ronnie: your shit jokes do

Joe: it was always easier to just start fights to get hurt

Joe: when I was a kid

Joe: though you work out ways to be sneaky fast, if you have to

Ronnie: they didnt wanna fight me

Joe: everyday sexism strikes again

Ronnie: fuck off not cos im a girl

Joe: why then

Ronnie: wouldnt be me getting hurt and if i was i didnt care

Ronnie: all those mental problems you told that call centre cunt about like

Joe: ‘course you were too proud to make it count

Joe: have to let them get some punches in or there was no point, yeah

Ronnie: no point in fitz flouncing in either fun though

Joe: true

Joe: I’ve got a brother and all, I remember what it’s like

Ronnie: scraps never went far enough

Joe: yeah

Joe: most kids aren’t that psycho

Ronnie: 💔

Joe: being misunderstood served me so well for the whole musician thing so whatever, I guess

Ronnie: i mightve bothered keeping some of my bastards about if they were guaranteed nutters thatd serve you well

Joe: you’d get your own room then, like

Joe: even if you had to pack them to the rafters

Ronnie: for a stalker youre dead concerned about my privacy

Joe: nah, ‘course not

Joe: I’d rather have a place to do the gear without the possibility of Soph or Charlie 🥺ing at us obvs, nothing but selfishness

Ronnie: theres loads of places

Joe: you can show me

Ronnie: is she there now she can let me in

Joe: no idea

Joe: their room is near the door, makes sense they’d be your first victims

Ronnie: youre too selfish to get off your arse and do it

Joe: if you’re coming I’ll carry you in myself, you know that

Ronnie: ill be there and youll still be going on about what youre gonna do

Ronnie: no wonder the other kids kept smacking you

Joe: yeah, all mouth me, deffo what I was known for

Joe: not a euphemism and I don’t think they were wishing it was but who knows

Ronnie: you sure you dont want charlie giving you the eye

Ronnie: how it sounds

Joe: I’m alright, tah

Joe: pretty sure he’s over it now I’m enabling you

Ronnie: hes over everything thats not horse girls from kent but reckons the fucking lost causes are us

Joe: He clearly just gives a shit about appearances

Joe: looking nice, polite

Joe: they’ll never speak again, like

Ronnie: forget him

Ronnie: open the door

Joe: [do that boy]

Ronnie: [boop his little head scar as you come in like oh there it is]

Joe: [‘s’not even a good story’ and producing some takeaway moment from the kitchen as you go through ‘cos the dinner party was not heavy on the dinner bit]

Ronnie: [a look like ffs because people caring in any way ew no but we are gonna eat it because probably haven't since that Margate moment]

Joe: [shrugging like bitch I’m hungry as we tuck in, obviously]

Ronnie: [kick him while you've still got your big boots on but playfully not aggressively]

Joe: [😏 but in a more genuine way than that cocky face looks, I am vibing Chinese not that that matters but there we go]

Ronnie: [weirdly I also thought that maybe because it's one of the grossest haha but yeah eat your food lads]

Joe: [greasy greasy goodness, love the subtle shade if any of them come out for a cuppa or whatever like oh hello again lol]

Ronnie: [I hope it's oblivious Marc just living his life]

Joe: [that’d be most amusing, unbothered, casually]

Ronnie: [I just imagine them doing stuff to try and make him notice like when people stack stuff on a sleeping person but idk what you could do in that little kitchen]

Joe: [for sure, just being subtly annoying/weird and he is just like does not compute ‘cos we mind our own business, so childish]

Ronnie: [love that for you two]

Joe: [we stan the regression for you]

[kreweleaderbuuru]

Part 3 baybeeee i realised that the babies I use more often these days werent included. Annoying elaboration that doesnt matter under the cut

Sex

Self explainitory

Gender:

Self explanatory 

Build:

Singrid: The most in-shape member of her family. She’s very enthusiastic about honing her skills with her hammer, carving canoes with her bare hands, and punching sharks in the face.

Grunt: The grunt has been working on building muscle, but her years of starvation and abuse have left her permanently stunted. 

Algor: Despite being absolutely fuckall massive, he’s not too interested in honing his physique. He’s got some scholarly chub on the way. 

Poom: Actually more muscular than you’d give him credit for- though still malnourished and spindly. His baggy clothes are in part to hide a very embarrassing hourglass figure. 

Height:

Singrid: Just a few inches shorter than her brother, much to her dismay

Grunt: Shorty due to malnutrition

Algor: Fuckall massive

Poom: Comes from a pretty tall family, but just so happens to me the shortest member of that family. He thinks he’s shorter than he actually is. 

Handiness:

Self explanatory

Intelligence, Scholarly:

Singrid: While Singrid was offered the same education as her brother, she struggled with even the most basic concepts. At a certain point she decided her job was just to carry heavy equipment. Living proof of nature vs. nurture. 

Grunt: Scouted by inquest recruiters as a child. The Grunt was subjected to the standard foot soldiers ‘education’ within the Inquest. It wasn’t all that great, but it wasn’t like she could leave. 

Algor: Personally tutored by his adopted asuran father- surpassing the potential of even some asuran peers in Rata Sum. Living proof of nurture vs. nature. 

Poom: Got along okay in school, enough to Graduate Dynamics with above average grades. His true passions lie in paranormal investigation, which isnt as revered in Rata Sum. People just assume he’s crazy. 

Wisdom:

Singrid: Would look a grenade launcher down the barrel as she’s trying to figure out how to fire it. 

Grunt: What the Grunt lacks in formal education, she makes up for in sheer experience. She’s worked on just about every Inquest base the Megakrewe allows such a low-ranking agent, and tangled with more bizarre magical creatures than most norn hunters will in their lifetime. 

Algor: Algor began making supply runs in greater Tyria when he was sixteen, allowing him to come into his own as a traveller and genius. 

Poom: Easily distracted and has a nasty habit of sharing his conspiracy theories to the members of the organisations he suspects. Common sense is not amongst his strengths. 

Education:

Singrid: Technically a ‘drop out’, seeing as her father gave up on teaching her alongside her brother. However, the special attention Ruffik can give Singrid while Algor is away has convinced her to give his lessons another go.  

Grunt: Didn’t so much as ‘graduate’ as she was drafted to punishment detail. Her propensity for disaster and mayhem did not make her school days enjoyable. 

Algor: Greatly exceeded his father’s expectations. 

Poom: A decent student, but easily distracted by his true passions. 

Social Ability:

Singrid: Dreamed all her life of leaving the Far Marina Base to party all through Tyria, only to suffer from extreme social anxiety. She’s since found happiness on the peaceful ice caps, content with her few friends and family. 

Grunt: Pretty amicable, if you can get over the whining and increased likelihood of the bar burning down. 

Algor: Still relatively uncomfortable in his own skin, but growing out of it. 

Poom: A highly contagious affliction and subsequent quarantine has given an already antisocial oddball agoraphobia. Poom has slowly been taking steps to be more comfortable with people, and can at the very least venture outside without a panic attack. 

Perceptiveness:

Singrid: Sensitive, painfully sensitive, so sensitive she becomes overwhelmed in large gatherings. Is one of the few people who can really understand Ruffik’s emotions at any given time and could be mistaken for a mind reader when it comes to people she’s close to. 

Grunt: Despite her attempt at an aloof bounty huntress persona, the Grunt is mostly in wilful denial. She knows whats going on, why it’s going on, and how things will probably end. She’s very bad at pretending not to care. 

Algor: His time outside the Far Marina Base has taken him from clueless hermit to what is average teenage boy. He still doesnt understand girls, though. 

Poom: Absolute dogshit at reading social signals, to the point of being near debilitating. His friends have to intervene to keep him from being beaten up half the time. 

Readability:

Singrid: There are two Singrids: The one who is comfortable and knows the people in the room, and the Singrid who is in public and trying to keep from crying. You wouldnt expect the firey young norn from the FMB to wilt so easily in a crowd, and you’d be wrong. 

Grunt: Any attempts to hide her emotions are humorously in vain. Its lucky her partner, krewemate, and totally-not-boyfriend is painfully dense. 

Algor: Can put up a pretty convincing stoic front. It’s when he opens his mouth the youthful bravado comes spilling out. 

Poom: His high anxiety and odd mannerisms make him an open book. An open book in a language you cant read, but nonetheless open. 

Introvert/Extrovert:

Self explanatory

Sexuality:

Singrid: Straight

Grunt: Straight

Algor: Bisexual 

Poom: Pansexual with a male preference

Romanticism: 

Singrid: Straight, Monogamous 

Grunt: Straight, Monogamous

Algor: Biromantic, Open to Polyamory

Poom: Panromantic with a male preference, Monogamous

Romantic:

Singrid: Has a massive crush on her childhood friend, but he’s painfully oblivious. 

Grunt: Hopelessly in love with her partner, friend, and krewemate, Anakk. Even though they live together, work together, provide each other with emotional support, and sleep together exclusively, they insist they are not in a relationship.

Algor: Would do anything for a partner to share his intellect, but is still too insecure to ask anyone out. There’s also the size factor- none of the other apprentices so much as reach his knee. That ‘tragedy’ is a bit romantic in its own right- according to him. 

Poom: Is oblivious to romance, and hasnt had the best track record. His last relationship ended in nothing short of catastrophe, he’s still too ashamed to face his ex to stay long in Rata Sum. This has kept him rather guarded when it comes to relationships. 

Affection:

Singrid: Very touchy. Will shamelessly pick up and snuggle anyone she cares about. 

Grunt: Has a pointed distaste for ‘mushy stuff’ and goes out of her way to avoid any intimacy that could be construed as romantic. 

Algor: Mostly only hugs his sister. Was more cuddly as a kid, but since the growth spurt he worries about accidentally crushing people. 

Poom: Has gone three years without touch due to his affliction. Avoids touch like the plague so as not to become overwhelmed. 

Disposition, Outwardly:

Singrid: Whether she’s in full swing or shyly hugging the wall, Singrid comes across as a friendly, if not rough around the edges- young norn. 

Grunt: Affable and friendly until things go wrong. They’re usually going wrong. 

Algor: Knows how to be polite in public. Snarks on occasion. 

Poom: Absolute bastard of a man. You know this. Why even ask. 

Disposition, Inwardly:

Singrid: Pretty neutral on people as a whole. Gets irritated easily, and doesnt have any kind words for people who make her uncomfortable. 

Grunt: Is far more effected by her past than she lets on. The grunt is generally distrustful to strangers and spiteful to those who hurt her- even a little. 

Algor: Has a healthy dollop of teen angst. 

Poom: One of the more kindly people you’ll meet, once you get past his eccentricities. Genuinely doesnt want to upset anyone, and is a die hard pacifist. 

Petty:

Singrid, Grunt, Algor: All petty little drama queens. 

Poom: Will put up with a lot of bullshit, so long as you dont press one of his triggers. Can only really muster the energy to hate one thing at a time. Usually tries to solve ‘misunderstandings’ when they come up. 

Sanity:

Singrid: Crippling social anxiety 

Grunt: PTSD

Algor: He’s fine, honestly. 

Poom: Autism, PTSD, Depression, Social Anxiety, Agoraphobia, probably more. 

Freindliness:

Singrid: She knows who she likes, and isnt particularly eager to make new friends. 

Grunt: Finds it relatively easy to get along with people, especially if theres alcohol involved. She has a strange habit for attracting the affections of much larger and more powerful beings. Anakk, her skyscale Mr. Bastard, and the hulking inquest abomination Brukk, to name a few. 

Algor: Able to chat up strangers so long as he’s not feeling too self-important. He’s growing out of that bit, though. 

Poom: Absolutely desperate for validation. Can and will join a cult if he’s not claimed. 

Stoicism:

Singrid: Will break pretty easily either from her anxiety or by getting too excited about a cool rock. 

Grunt: Attempts are made at stoicism. They are laughable. 

Algor: Is prone to teen melodrama. He’s growing out of it, though. 

Poom: Will go home and cry for stepping on a bug.

Grace:

Singrid: Her training in the harsh Far Marina conditions have made her an adept warrior. 

Grunt: Prone to disaster.

Algor: Is actually quite a talented dancer when no one’s watching. One of the ways he tries to stay in shape between studies. 

Poom: If he’s not knocking something over, he’s putting his foot in his mouth. 

Stubbornness:

Self explanatory

Bravery:

Singrid: Despite her issues with crowds, she’s run after icebrood twice her size with nothing but a dagger. Has wanted to cultivate an epic legend ever since she was a kid. 

Grunt: Complete snivelling coward.

Algor: Will run from conflict as easily as he runs from a spider. 

Poom: An almost destructive lack of self-preservation. 

Loyalty:

Singrid: The few companions she has, she aims to keep. 

Grunt: Wont die for the ship, but will save her favourite pirate. 

Algor: Still has somewhat naive opinions on teamwork in a krewe. It’s almost a good thing he’ll likely never be in one. 

Poom: Not a lot of people understand him, those that try are greatly appreciated. Even people who dont try, he’ll gladly meet half way. Even if you dont even like him at all he’s got your back. Even if you’ve just spit in his mouth he’ll-

Lawfulness:

Singrid: Does what she wants. If that means breaking some heads, she’ll do it. If it means drinking tea and brushing up on her knitting, thats her glitching right!

Grunt: Rules are for people who don’t regularly get hit by lightning. 

Algor: Painfully naive. 

Poom: The rules suck, but he gets in trouble enough as it is without provoking others. 

Attitude:

They’re all edgy assholes lol

[shesthewindandsea]

if the lord dont forgive me, i’d still have my baby (and my babe would have me)

Summary: It's snowing tonight in Soho. The air is frigid and the ground is wet. Inside a bookshop, there's a demon experiencing the greatest crisis in known human history, but the angel sitting with him thinks he may be able to help.

Beginning Notes: So I’m starting to pick up on a pattern. Seems like whenever I wanna write something this bastard is always at the center of everything and really, what am I gonna do about that? Plug him apparently. @ineffablefool Go read this idiot’s stuff, it’s kind of good I guess I’m totally joking it’s all fantastic but yall should know that by now if you’re here. And!! @scribblemakes go look at all his art right now!!! It’s absolutely fantastic and beautiful and honestly freckled Crowley is one of my favorite things in the world which is why that’s basically what half this fic is about. The other half is just Aziraphale being chubby and getting kisses everywhere. This is literally the softest thing I have ever and will ever write in my entire existence. I have nowhere to go but down. 

Oh and the title is from a Hozier song, yeah we’re all really surprised I know. The song is called Work Song and I recommend you listen to this version just because it’s fantastic

-

Outside the doors of the bookshop, the evening air is still and quiet. Snow is falling silently from the clouds passing slowly in front of the moon. It’s quite a spectacle to all the children watching from their bedroom windows, eyelids heavy and blankets tucked up to their chins. All eyes, though laden with sleep, are ashine with a kind of innocent joy that can only come from a child. They’ll fall asleep thinking about a day off from school spent making snow angels and throwing snowballs and causing a general ruckus as they run in-between strangers on the sidewalk. They’ll certainly be disappointed when the morning comes and the world outside is barren of any snow, the lingering warmth in the stonework from the overcast sun that afternoon melting the snow once it touched the ground. Tears will, no doubt, be shed over the lack of highly anticipated snowman building material. This is, quite possibly, the biggest upset in known human history.

Inside the bookshop, however, a much different story is being told. The cold winter air pushes up from the floorboards, through the gap in the front doors, through the crack in a window frame. Even with the sharp cut of the frigid air filtering into the close quarters of the backroom, it didn’t have the chance to make the room any colder than Aziraphale willed it to be. The space heater glowing with a warm orange light in the corner may have also helped the process along and replaced the silence with a gentle hum and the occasional sputter.* 

*Aziraphale had initially started out with an ornate fireplace at the back of the room. He was rather proud of his craftsmanship and was excited to show off his recent update to Crowley once he arrived. That was, until his demon burst through the door with a slam and in a deranged panic, raving about the pungent smell of smoke and wallpaper burning, tears streaming down his cheeks and I couldn’t find you. Aziraphale wasn’t particularly attached to the fireplace, anyhow. A space heater will do the job just as well, dear, no need to fret.

Read on AO3!

 The air smells faintly of old parchment paper, book binding glue, and leather. The scent never seems to fade and Crowley suspects Aziraphale has something to do with that as well. Most humans find it somewhat distasteful and often find themselves making a rather startled face upon entering the shop followed immediately by an amusing and unattractive nose crinkle. 

That doesn’t always drive them away, though, and Crowley becomes further amused while Aziraphale would get rather frumpy, forming the most ridiculous and petulant pout he’d ever seen. The angel would make sure to use extra binding glue those days, making the smell all the more pungent. 

It makes Crowley want to kiss him. So sometimes, he does. He’ll lean over the front of Aziraphale’s workstation, tap the angel on the shoulder, and when he looks up, Crowley will try to snag a kiss from the angel’s lips. Occasionally, he’ll miss and land on his forehead or cheek, but nonetheless, Crowley is satisfied. 

Other times he’ll let Aziraphale brood loudly about the shop. He’ll put a little more force into his step and his double chin will become just a bit more pronounced as he tips his head down to keep his glare directed toward the floor. The emotions flicker across his face clearly displaying the war going on inside his angel’s brain, torn between politeness and some drastic steps that would “gently” encourage any potential customers quickly back out the door and onto the street.

You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here and all that. Thank you and have a nice day.

 Crowley would lean next to the till and watch, just basking in the presence of his grumpy angel. He used to pretend like he wasn’t watching. Like every minute he spent around Aziraphale wasn’t worth every second of secrecy and denial. His glasses did a lot of that work for him then. But now, things were different and Crowley didn’t want to waste a moment of their time together pretending anything. 

Moonlight lurks in the gaps of the shutters and gently attempts to creep across the floor hoping to reach the back of the old, lumpy settee. The moonlight hopes it can linger in the white curls of the angel currently residing there before the demon in his lap notices and gets jealous. Let it never be said that the moonlight is frightened of Crowley’s jealous indignation — though it will admit it’s become quite familiar with being on the receiving side of Crowley’s hissing and it knows well what it’s like to face the demon head on. 

The biggest upset in human history inside the bookshop? Well, it’s just that Crowley couldn’t press his face any closer into Aziraphale’s belly. Not without knitting their skin together, fusing cell by cell, permanently pressing his cheek into the grooves of each individual stretch mark kissing the angel’s stomach, thighs, arms.

 If only, he laments. If only he could remain here forever, his nose pushing into the available skin between Aziraphale’s waistband and where his shirt has come untucked, waistcoat and coat discarded long ago. 

If he could just bask until the end of time in the skin-on-skin contact, the soothing scrape of Aziraphale’s perfectly manicured nails gliding through his hair and along his scalp while the angel’s plush thighs pillow Crowley’s head and neck. He longs to kiss the plump flesh there hidden beneath Aziraphaple’s sensible trousers. In the pitch black of the room, save for the warm glow of the heater and the errant beam of moonlight stretching towards them, (as if he wouldn’t notice it) he can’t imagine moving a single muscle for the next century..

 If only.

Rather than linger on this particular tragedy, Crowley focuses his energy on appreciating exactly what he has in front of him right now, which is to say, absolute perfection. Even knowing he really has nowhere left to go, Crowley pushes his nose into the fat of Aziraphale’s stomach, groaning at the all warmth and love stored there. His arms snake tighter around his angel, squeezing. His fingers just barely brush each other behind Aziraphale’s back, forcing him to sit forward just a bit. 

Aziraphale makes a noise that Crowley thinks is supposed to be something like annoyance and scolding, but it ends up sounding more fond to him than anything else.

“Really now, dear. Your nose is poking me and it’s quite unpleasant. You’re going to have to release me.” In response, Crowley chooses not to move a single inch and grumbles something low into Aziraphale’s tummy. The angel can’t help but shake with laughter at the sensation. Crowley’s face curls up in an impossibly doting grin and though Aziraphale can’t see the full extent of Crowley’s adoration, he can feel it pressed into his body and somewhere low in his rib cage where he is positively thrumming with unadulterated affection.

“I’m sorry?” Aziraphale speaks around his smile. One hand remains in Crowley’s hair while the other skirts over his shoulders and under the collar of his shirt to rest his palm on Crowley’s bare back. He can feel the curve of Crowley’s spine and the way he moves with each inhale and exhale. He can feel Crowley’s heartbeat in his hands.

 The demon pulls back just enough to speak.

“I said,” Crowley drawls, “‘S impossible. Can’t move.” Each word comes out a hot puff of air against Aziraphale’s skin and it sends a shiver through his entire body.

“Is that so?”

“Mm. It is. Wouldn’t lie to you, would I, angel?”

“Ah, well,” Aziraphale teases, “wily and cunning serpent that you are, I never know when to trust you.”

“Shall I prove it to you then? I’m more than willing.” Crowley rolls away from Aziraphale’s soft middle just enough to stare up at the angel. His eyes glow like fireflies in the dim light and Aziraphale can imagine being swallowed by them, losing himself there for as long as it takes Crowley to blink. The hand in Crowley’s hair trails down the side of his face, caressing a sharp cheekbone and soothing his thumb over wrinkles in the corner of Crowley’s eye.

“You’re so beautiful,” Aziraphale whispers suddenly. He didn’t mean to say them, those words, but before he could stop and think, they were rushing up his throat, dancing across his tongue, sung from his lips like a prayer. Well, maybe not a prayer. Perhaps more like a song.

That happens sometimes, where he just can’t help himself. Crowley really is the most beautiful being Aziraphale has ever had the fortune to happen upon. And the words just come so naturally. The need to show Crowley how much he loves him, how much he positively adores him, fills him up like a helium balloon. 

The guilt consumes him, sometimes, when Crowley isn’t looking, when he isn’t around to remind him. All that wasted time and all the hurt he had caused. He knew and yet everything felt so hopeless. It felt like vines weaving throughout the gaps in his rib cage, his heart and lungs constricted, struggling to beat and inflate. 

 And then Crowley would be there, standing in front of Aziraphale with hands on shoulders, grounding him, asking if he was alright. Or he’d look up from across the room, abandoning whatever he was distracted with and meet Aziraphale’s eyes. Crowley would always just know from the look in his angel’s eyes, from the tight lines he held in his face. 

And then Crowley would just look at him and Aziraphale would look back. And oh the poetry he could wax about everything he sees in Crowley’s eyes. His brilliant, splendid eyes saying the most brilliant and splendid things. I see you and I understand and I love you and perhaps, most importantly, I forgave you a long time ago. It’s okay. You never have to ask.

Crowley’s giving him that look right now, saying all the right things without saying them. His lips twist up in a soft smile that lights up his entire face and Aziraphale feels like he’s about to float away with all the love in his chest lifting him up.

 Crowley rolls back onto his side, his face cupped by Aziraphale’s hand as it tenderly traces the edge of his mark. It stays there even as he turns toward Aziraphale’s round, soft belly and pushes the untucked clothing further up Aziraphale’s body. It rests precariously on the shelf of his stomach, exposing him to the musty air of the bookshop and Crowley’s sweeping gaze. His eyes are glazed over, half-lidded leaving Aziraphale waiting with bated breath.

Crowley has made it very clear to Aziraphale how much he appreciates the soft roundness of his angel’s corporation. Always kissing the swell of his cheeks and the folds in his neck, grabbing at his sides and hips. Aziraphale really hadn’t felt any inclinations either which way about the size and shape of his corporation over the last six thousand years or so; though, he had become rather sentimental after having it for so long. The same way one grows attached to a well-loved sweater. But being on the receiving end of all of Crowley’s reverent touches and constant praise certainly helped all those feelings along. And if it made Aziraphale feel more wanted and desirable, well no harm no foul.

Crowley releases his hold from around Aziraphale for a moment to grab hold of the hand covering his face, lacing their fingers together and slotting his bony fingers between the spaces of Aziraphale’s chubbier ones. His lips ghost over the generous give of the angel’s gut, starting from underside up the gentle slope until he reaches the edge of Aziraphale’s rucked up shirt. Then he makes his way across and then diagonal and eventually just anywhere he feels deserves more attention, slowly applying more pressure, lingering longer over each stretch of skin.

“You’re beautiful too, angel, so bloody beautiful. Wish you could see you the way I do,” he hums into Aziraphale’s tummy and sides and chest like he’s trying to tattoo the words there and Aziraphale is so overwhelmed by the brushing of lips against his bare skin that he can’t stop the long groan that escapes him. The urge to tug Crowley up, lose his hands in the long messy curls and just kiss every single freckle painted on the demon’s cheeks and forehead, wrists and knuckles, shoulders and back is overpowering.

“Oh, my darling. My dear sweet boy. My love.” Aziraphale could go on for ages. He’d call Crowley every endearment he’d ever read, heard and wasted time thinking up until he was red in the face. Until the galaxy was swallowed by darkness and the stars went supernova and the universe imploded. Until there was absolutely no question about the depth of Aziraphale’s love for him. 

He would if he could, if he thought that they didn’t have time. He’d spend every moment making sure Crowley knew what he felt before they ran out. But that’s not the case. They have forever, infinity times infinity, and so he has the opportunity to take Crowley’s hand and led him into it. He doesn’t need to push him in and hope he knows how to swim. 

Maybe he would try anyway if he felt he had any control over the irresistible need, the want, to pull Crowley’s lithe, lean body flush with his own. But as it turns out, Aziraphale is easily tempted and when it comes to his demon, he truly doesn’t have that control. He very quickly finds himself hauling Crowley up off his lap and pressing their bodies so close together that they could create a vacuum. 

Their lips slot together and if the whole world didn’t already fall away every second they were together, it would now. All the tiny variations — the nuances of each individual moment, of every individual kiss — spark across the connected skin like neurons firing through the brain. Aziraphale can feel Crowley’s knees knocking into his hips on either side. He can feel Crowley’s eyelashes brushing against the skin just under his eyes. He feels that long skinny nose that poked him in the stomach earlier smushed against his cheek and he hears the sure rhythm of Crowley’s heady breathing echoing in his head. 

Both pairs of hands wander — touching and testing patches of naked skin and soothing over wrinkled shirts, clutching handfuls of curls — and lips are soon to follow. Aziraphale keeps the promise he made to himself and thoroughly enjoys pecking at the hundreds of constellations of freckles he’s left behind, his kisses. Each spot overlaid becomes a shade darker, shines brighter against the white background. When he’s gone over every one he can reach, he begins to create new ones — one under Crowley’s chin, in the center of his cupid’s bow, just to the right of his Adam’s Apple — and they bloom like flowers, petals pushing apart and ready to greet the sun.

Crowley waits for Aziraphale to finish indulging himself while happily occupying himself with the skin connecting his angel’s neck to his shoulder — kissing, nipping, soothing over the marks with his tongue, rinse and repeat — by working around and under the collar of his shirt. His hands skirt up outside of his angel’s thighs and creep over his hips in of search the abundant flesh waiting for him at his angel’s waist. Once he feels the lack of clothing separating his hands from Aziraphale, he latches on, squeezing in random intervals. There’s just something so satisfying about the way it crowds his spread palms and fills the emptiness between his fingers. Something that makes him think, Mine. This is finally mine. 

“Had your fill of me yet, angel?” Crowley teases lightly as Aziraphale finally sits back and looks Crowley in the eyes. His hands rub up and down Crowley’s back under his shirt.

“Not in a million years, my love.” Aziraphale places a final kiss on the tip of Crowley’s nose. The demon’s face scrunches up a bit in an attempt to cover up an utterly besotted grin, but he can’t quite manage. 

“Got a reputation to uphold, you know.” Crowley says very seriously before wrapping his arms around Aziraphale’s neck and laying his head against his shoulder.

“I do know. Quite important, this reputation business. Perhaps we ought to refrain from such activities in the future. For the sake of your reputation, of course.” The audible smirk in Aziraphale’s tone is unbearable.

“Bastard. Don’t even joke about that,” Crowley growls, worming his way around his angel’s shirt to carve out his own section of bare shoulder, smacking it with a kiss which makes Aziraphale giggle at the sound and sensation.

“Well, then. I think we ought to head up to bed, don’t you? We’ve done quite enough sitting in the dark. I think I’d rather enjoy a bit of light reading.” Before Crowley can come up with a response, Aziraphale is standing up from the couch and lifting Crowley with him. He decides a contented hum and lazily wrapping his legs around his angel’s hips will do nicely instead.

Aziraphale’s socked feet make a muted thumping noise as he ascends the stairs to the flat above the shop. Soon enough, Aziraphale is using Crowley’s back to push the bedroom door open causing the demon to murmur some mild irritation and vague threat. He’s quite comfortable resting up against Aziraphale as he’s carried around though, much too comfortable to raise a real fuss.

That is, until he’s tossed onto their bed like a sack of potatoes, something like a oof! pushed out of him. He’s left cold on top of the covers while Aziraphale pretends to putter around the room, far too smug for his own good. 

And so Crowley remains there, cold and uncovered, purely out of spite. 

After changing into his pajamas, (a hideous set of mis-matching tartan, or so Crowley seemed inclined to voice on multiple occasions. Aziraphale finds them both stylish and comfortable) Aziraphale stands at the edge of the bed, tutting at Crowley’s behavior. 

“Come now, Crowley. Get changed and budge over.” Crowley fixes him with a glare that lasts all of five seconds before he’s snapping his fingers — clothes changed and eyeliner removed — and rolls over to his side of the bed. He pulls down the covers on his side, flopping down onto his pillow, hair a fiery blaze behind him. Aziraphale does likewise and scoots into his spot, wiggling around to get comfortable. Crowley watches on with unfiltered glee.

He continues to watch his angel closely as he clicks on the lamp beside him and peels back the cover of some hundred-year-old Dickinson collection, his reading glasses having appeared on the bridge of his nose at one point or another. Eventually, Aziraphale looks over at Crowley, feeling his eyes on him.

“Yes, dear?”

“I love you,” he blurts out. “I love you with all your moldy books and useless glasses and your ridiculous lovely body. I love all of it.” Aziraphale smiles brilliantly and the room is suddenly much brighter. Crowley could swear celestial light is leaking from Aziraphale’s pores and shining from behind his eyes.

“And I love you with your reckless driving and your useless glasses and your pointy nose, knees and toes, elbows and ankles. I love every last piece of you, mitting.” (This was one of those phrases that Aziraphale had sat on for quite a while before he finally had a chance to put it to use.)

Aziraphale lifts an arm for Crowley and he’s immediately curled up against the angel’s side, arms stretching across the long expansive of the angel’s belly while leaving space for the book to balance against Aziraphale’s chest. Legs twist together hidden beneath the blankets and toes wriggle about in cozy socks. Crowley rubs his leg up against Aziraphale’s, pushing up the pant legs of both their pajama bottoms.

It’s not long before Crowley falls asleep still tucked under Aziraphale’s arm and eventually, the angel decides it would be best to get some sleep himself. He places the book on top of his nightstand, not bothering to mark the page, and miracles the lights out. Gingerly, he moves his arm out from around Crowley and instead, manages to sneak his palm under Crowley’s head while the other arm pulls Crowley in closer, tucking his head beneath Aziraphale’s chin. He allows himself a brief moment of appreciation, brushing his fingertips over the flat plane of Crowley back.

“Until the morning,” he whispers into Crowley’s hair. He finally starts to drift off while watching the shadow of each snowflake tumble across the top of the duvet.

The now silent world within the bookshop remains so until daybreak, the night’s snow a puddle on the sidewalk and the flakes’ shadows replaced with a combination of orange, red, and gold light.

Until a red-headed demon slowly wakes in the early morning light to the soft, vulnerable skin of an angel’s throat pressing into his cheek. He’ll lay there for a long time, basking in the morning light and the happiness he feels in that moment with the knowledge that he’ll have that feeling many, many times in the distant, and not so distant, future.

Then he’ll clamber out of bed, trying not to wake the sleeping angel, to start making breakfast in a dusty, outdated kitchen. 

Until the angel will wake to find a vacant spot next to him, still warm. He too will get up from bed, though with far more coordination and less flailing of limbs. He’ll enter the kitchen and wrap his arms around the demon’s waist and inquire as to just what it is the demon is making.

“Nothing good with this kitchen, angel. Some bloody hedonist you are. Can’t even maintain a proper kitchen to make your own food.”

“Now, now, if you’re going to be that way, maybe I’ll just go to dinner without you tonight.” The demon will grumble and mumble but refrains from any further comment. The angel will force the demon to turn his head and offer a kiss as payment for the meal that will no doubt turn out very delicious. He accepts, of course.

Until that night when it starts snowing as the two walk home from dinner, the temperature dropping to temperatures much too cold for a fussy angel and his serpent. So the night ends much the same way it did previously: with the soft glow of the space heater in the corner where there once was a fireplace and curious moonbeams scampering across the floor. 

It ends with an angel and a demon so absolutely besides themselves with kindness and hope and love that they forgot what the cold feels like.

[toms-order]

Ocean Eyes

Part four

Tom Holland x female reader

Summary: he loves her but you're in love with him.

Warning: sad

part one

part two

part three

part five

Ocean Eyes Playlist

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

Losing Tom was the hardest thing you ever had to do. You ignored all his texts and phone calls. Every time he’d come over you would pretend not to be home. It broke you more and more everyday. You tried to forget about Tom. You went on dates, you joined various dating apps. None of those dates worked out of course. Most of the guys were just creepy, or they had some of issue. You knew you were just making excuses throughout the date. “Oh he ordered that? It can’t work out.” Whatever you did never worked you still always craved Tom. You could never really get rid of that damn boy. He was tattooed on your brain.

It killed you that you had to stay away from him. It was slowly killing Harrison as well. Harrison had to stand by and watch the destruction she had caused. He watched you break down every night. He held you close when you couldn’t handle the pain. He watched Tom slowly lose his mind. Tom was confused, he was hurt. Why had you stopped talking to him? Did he do something wrong? Harrison had to watch Tom break, and he couldn’t answer his questions. He was stuck in the middle, and it was slowly killing him. 

Tom felt his whole heart breaking off piece by piece. You were his best friend. You were there for him through everything. You stood by his side thru thick and thin. But you were gone now. He felt anger. Why weren't you there? What did he do? Of course he had his love by his side. But it wasn't the same. He wanted you. He needed you.

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

You were at your local store. You had ran out of ice cream and needed to stock up. You grabbed your favorite and Harrison's favorite before making your way through the ails. You didn’t see the body hat was coming your way. You crashed into them, dropping all your ice cream on the floor.

Groaning you bent down to pick up your ice cream.

"I’m so sorry i didn’t see you." The figure said. You ignored the familiar voice. They bent down to help you.

"Its fine." You said , annoyed. You looked up expecting to see someone else instead you saw Tom. The boy that caused all the ice cream. 

You quickly jolted up. You wanted to run out of there and never look back, but you also wanted your ice cream.

Tom looked up at you with wide eyes. Anger, sadness, and confusion flashed thru his eyes. He stood up, slowly handing you your ice cream. You took it from his hands. Both of you not saying a word.

Tom broke the silence. "Where have you been?" His voice held confusion, mixed with a bit of anger.

You avoided his burning gaze. “I’ve been busy.” You lie.

Tom scoffs “You’re a horrible liar.” 

You shook your head. “I can’t do this right now Tom.” You held the cold ice cream to your chest. You turned to walk away but before you could Tom grabbed your arm.

“Then, when Y/N? When can we do this? I’ve been trying to get your attention for weeks. Please just tell me what i did and i’ll fix it.” Toms voice cracked.His eyes watered “I promise I’ll fix it.”  He pressed his lips together, holding back a cry. 

You squeezed your eyes shut to hold back the tears that were trying to escape. you opened her eyes, looking at Toms distressed face. She grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze. 

“I can’t.” You whisper.

You let go of Tom, before walking away. You left Tom standing there, heartbroken and confused. Tom felt his heart fall into pieces. The tears pooled in his eyes kept falling as he watched his best friend leave.

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

Tom headed home, he didn't bother wiping his tears away. He had no energy to move, eat, or even breathe at that point. He was still so very confused. He thought about what he couldv'e done, what couldve caused her behavior, but he came up empty. He felt like his heart had been ripped out and stomptef on repeatiatly. He felt numb driving home. He forgot all about the food he was supposed to pick up so he could have dinner with his beautiful girlfriend. He didnt care how reckless he drove or how many red lights and stop signs he passed. He just wanted to get home and sleep his problems away.

Of course that wasn’t an option. His girlfriend had decided to stop by and pay Tom a visit. She waited on his sofa, flipping thru the channels on his TV. Tom didn’t notice her when he walked in. He tried heading straight up stairs. She watched him stumble in, she watched him trip over his shoes and throw off his jacket. He tried walking up the stairs, before he could make it, she called for him.

"Tom." She grabbed his attention.

He looked at her will tear stained cheeks. His eyes held sorrow He looked miserable, The bags under his eyes darkened, his face was paler than usual. Her eyes softened, she walked over to him, putting a hand on his cheek. Tom closed his eyes and let out a breath.

"What's wrong?" She whispered.

Tom let himself fall apart. He wrapped his arms around her neck, pulling her in for a hug. He felt her wrap her arms around his waist. He sobbed into her neck. She pulled him as close to her as she can. She let him feel vulnerable in front of her.

They stayed like that for a couple minutes. She didn't say a word, she let Tom take the time he needed. Slowly Tom stopped violently crying. He sniffled in her neck.

"Sorry." His voice was strained from crying. He pulled away from her. 

She wiped the tears from his face. “It’s okay.” She looked into his eyes, her heart ached for Tom. "Tell me whats wrong." She softly said.

He licked his lips. He was debating whether or not to say it. Saying it can make it real, and he didnt want it to be real. He let out a sigh.

"I dont think Y/N wants me anymore." Tom bit his lip, holding back another sob.

She felt the guilt creep up. Knowing that she was the reason Tom was so broken pained her. She felt her heart drop to her stomach. How could she be so selfish? She didnt think how tom would feel about his best friend leaving. She was filled with jealousy and rage and acted out. She knew she could never compete with Y/N. She thought she had to get rid of her. She thought if you were gone then she could have Tom all to herself. She didnt think about the pain tom would feel.

The tears well up in her eyes. "Tom." She whispers. She looks down ashamed. "Its my fault."

Tom looked at her with confusion. His eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

She looked up at him, tears fell from her eyes. "I think you should talk to her. "

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

You were numb.

Your ears were ringing.

Your vision was blurry.

Your cheeks felt wet.

You didn’t hear Harrison walk in. You didn’t feel him shake you. You didn't hear him ask you whats wrong. You didn't feel him wrap his arms around you.

You just sat still, numb. You felt anger pulse thru your body. You were angry at her. Why did she do that? Why did she take him away? Everything was fine without her. You was fine with loving him from a distance. Why did he pick her? Why did he fall in love with her? What was wrong with you?

You were angry at yourself. Why did you let her get you? Why did you let her take your best friend? Why did you fall in love him?

All these thoughts swarmed your head making your head feel on fire. Harrison stopped trying to get information out of you. He just held you, like hes been doing for weeks. He held you tight against his chest. He didn’t know what was going on but he didn’t care. All that mattered to him was that you weren't alone. You would never be alone.

The doorbell rang. It grabbed Harrison’s attention but you still couldn't hear. Harrison shook you, trying to snap you out of your thoughts.

"Y/N, the door." You still didn't move.

Harrison sighed before letting you go. He walked downstairs. He threw open the door ready to tell whoever it was to leave. But when he saw Tom, standing there with tear stained cheeks and his hair demolished, he knew he had to let him in this time.

He stepped aside, letting tom in. "Shes upstairs." Harrison says. He lets Tom walk up the stairs towards you.

Harrison stayed behind, leaving them alone to talk.

Tom walked slowly up the stairs. He grew nervous. He felt goosebumps creep up. His hands shook and he started to sweat on his forehead. He opened your door. He saw you sitting on your bed, your cheeks drenched in tears, the mascara you had worn covered below your eyes. Tom felt his heart ache. He hated knowing that he was the one you cried for. That he did this to you.

"Y/N?" He called out.

Toms voice snapped you back into reality. When you saw him your voice caught in your throat. Why was he here? He needed to leave.

"Just go away." Your voice gave out at the end of your sentence.

"She told me." Tom went straight to the point. He needed to hear it from you, not her.

You gasped. Why would she tell him? She promised she wouldn't if you stayed away. You did what she asked, why was she punishing you?

"She lied." You avoided his strong gaze. You wanted him out. You wanted to save yourself from the embarrassment.

"No she didn't." Tom tried to sit next to you, but you stood up, moving away from him.

"Please, just go." You snapped. You hated her. You hated every bone in her body. You wish she never came and ruined your life.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Tom sounded broken. He needed answers.

You laughed bitterly. "Why would you wanna know Tom? Why would you care? You're happy with her Tom, and I'm okay with that. You didn't need to know." You tightened your jaw. Your finger nails were clawing at your palms.

"I deserved to know." Tom spat. He needed you to say it.

"No you don’t. It was my choice and she took that away from me." You shouted at Tom. Your voice was slowly fading from all the crying. Your throat felt raw.

"Say it." Tom demanded. Tears fell from his eyes. "I want you to say it." He whispers.

You let the tears fall again. “I-I can’t” Your lip quivered.

“Say it!” Tom shouted, with tears dropping down to the floor. 

You flinched, tom never yelled at you before. You took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. You looked into his eyes.

“I love you.” You whisper.  

Tom felt relief flood through his body. He let out a breath he didnt know he was holding. He swore he could feel his heart gluing itself back together.

He walked over to you slowly. You looked down at your feet.

He grabbed your face in his hands, forcing you to look into his eyes. His thumb rubbed against your cheek. He pressed his forehead against yours.

"Tom what are you-" You were cut off by Toms lips.

You were shocked at first, but you started to kiss back. Your lips moved in sync. He pulled you closer, deepening the kiss. His lips tasted salty from his tears, but that didn’t stop you. He traced his tongue along your bottom lip. You let him in. His tongue explored your mouth.

You pulled apart. You could feel your lips tingling. You smiled at Tom.

Your heart was beating like crazy. You felt shivers up your spine.

Tom grinned at you. His eyes were sparkling with love.

"I love you." He whispers. "I'm sorry I didn't realize it sooner."

You kissed his nose. You brought your hands to his cheeks. 

“You really know how to make me cry, Tom Holland.” You chuckle.

He bites his lip. He grabs your waist lifting you off the ground. You squeal and wrap your legs around his waist. Your laugh fills the air as he spins you around. 

Harrison watches his two best friends finally come together. He smiles at them,leaning against the door frame. 

“It’s about god damn time.” He jokes aloud, bringing your attention towards him.

You both smile at Harrison. Tom let you drop down to your feet. “It would’ve happened sooner if it wasn’t for this crybaby.” Tom joked. He threw an arm around you, pulling you close. 

You rolled your eyes, shoving his arm off. “Fuck off.” You said with a smile. 

Tom looked at you with adoration. “Not anymore, my love.” He said. His words making you weak in the knees. You felt your face grow hot. 

You felt happiness for the first time in a long time. The boy who broke your heart, made your heart put itself together. 

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

FEEDBACK IS NICE

i was gonna make it sadder but figured yall deserved a break

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[thewinebottlenr43-blog]

HEARTBREAK  FH/AU FANFIC

Second part of my silly little Heartbreak Does Some Heartbreaking  Story. A few things to keep in mind

1 this is a  quite long fanfic. If you don't like long fanfic just skip this one.

2 spoilers. Dah. For both book 1 and the demo of book 2 Story is quite simplicity told. I just wrote it in order to corrupt my holy mc. Someone has to be Satan around here.

3 Since Heartbreak is unknown. Something that does break my heart. I had to make things up. I tried to go for a queen of the bored type of character. It will come of as cheesy. Apologies. Has a weird ending.

Part 2

Powerless .

" I need to tell her "

It was al you can think of as you are  walking from Yasmins apartment  to the gym . Hands trembleing. It had been 2 days since you were atacked. The memory constantly resurfacing in your mind, like looped fotage. The feeling of getting cold.. Everything  going blurrier. You losing controll over your  puppets body and  your mind as you were being dragged back to the nightmares  that had haunted you for the last 8 years. The verry same nightmare that now was in possession of your real body.

Heartbreak.

Just thinking about her makes your body shiver and your heartbeat  raceing with  panic. For the last 2 days you had laid low makeing sure that the telepathic dampeners  Dr Mortun had made for you were  active at al times.  Tinny little earbudds. Humming  in your ears like a reactor.

Since you never told her the truth you had to convince her that your suposed boss was going a bit cucumber, as of late   and  that you needed to be safe. Something not so far from the truth.  It's suprised you how easy it was to convince the good doctor of your lie. By now she was  enamoured with Yasmin enough to keep her safe.

For you though , it was al play pretend. A senseless manipulation.  You wonder what she would think if she found out whos is  truly behind those brown eyes and  that fake smile you  constantly give her? A sea of thoughts  you would rather not dwell on.

Strangely Heartbreak had not atacked you duering this time. No mental creek nor  any other sound could you hear and feel. You know it has nothing to do with the dampeners. They are no way near as powerful  as Steels, and even those  buckled under her pressure  al those years ago.  No. She was up to something. But what it is, you cannot figure out. Just as you  could not stop her. She had reminded you of how week you truly are. The mirrored armor, the enhanced strength, the  telepathicly enhanced  nanoverse. Al of it was the shell of an egg, protecting what's  inside.

You.

And now the egg had cracked. Revealing what's inside. Just another puppet designed to infiltrate, designed to be controlled. An object ment to obay. Not a real person. Are you a real person?

Someone who is  strong enough to break free of their bond and stand on their own? That's what you promised yourself when you started al of this. That you would stop rummimg. That you would stand your ground this time. Be the one holding the strings.  It dosent seem to work.

She had  shown that  by takeing your face, your powers  and probably  your armor as well. Being someone who constantly is on the move, you had hidden it underneath the basement of an old comic book store. Getting the owner to not pass by the basment was the easy part. Getting inside the store was much harder. The store had one way in and out. You had to make sure no straing thoughts were nearby. Not to mention the increase in LDPD activity , looking for  you. People knowing where you hide would be a detrimental blow to your goal. But maybe not so detrimental as what you are about to do now.

You knew sooner or later that  the Rangers would find out who's behind your  mirrored mask. This, you being attacked and having to reveal yourself was not the way you'd imagined it . What choice did you have? Your telepathy was depleeted .  You could not return  to your body. It was as if you were always crashing into a wall of  bricks each time you tried. A mental block you didn't know could eexist.  Telling them was the only way. Maybe you could blame everything on Yasmin. Make her the villian.

Deep down you know that would not work.   Steel would lock you up faster than you can say "sorry ".  He might still That's why you have to tread carefully . If your going to reveal yourself to anybody it would have to be Ortega. Not just because she might be the last person in a long line that would bring their judgment upon you. But also because of what both of you share. Her  emotions  could be a shield you could use against the others. No. Not just them, her as well .

You could try to talk to Herald as well. But in truth you could not care one witt about that kid. Sure you'd helped him by training him. But it was  just for the sake of using him later on. You still haven't figured out that part. But keeping you're enemies close was important.  As for Lady Argent, she was a no go zone.

As you walk inside the gym you can already see Ortega in her  workout outfit. Already hitting the dummies. Once  she notices you,  she stops and turns your way with a smile.

"Hey there. Here for your rematch?"

"Not today. I'm just here to.... talk"

Her smiling face exchanges to one of a friendly concern.

" Oh. I see.  You look a bit on edge. Is everything ok?"

For a brief moment you want to tell her everything in a split second.

" Wait! I know what this is!" She  says.

Her smile is once again back on her face.

" your faking it! Trying to avoid our rematch."

"What? No this is not about that. And you know I would never skip a rematch.".

It's true. Yasmin was the kind of puppet you could use for dangerous and bold situations. Not that you yourself would say no to fighting Ortega. You had done it once already. Sometimes the lines between you and Yasmin tend to blend over each other.  You walk over to one of the old half torn exercise benches opposite the entrance.  Sitting down,  hands clasping your face. Ortega sits down  next to you.

" So it's that serious huh?"

Her voice had lost some of the energy it had earlier.

I thought my edgyness made it clear."

" Sorry. Had to make sure you weren't  pulling something  on me."

"Who does that anymore?"

The words had slipped out of your mouth before you could think.

" you know what, just forget it. I'm just havinga bad day." You say before she has time to respond to your earlier comment.

"So tell me about it"

" Well,  i"

" There you are Ortega. I can see why you chose this place as your  getaway"

" David!"

Ortega rises from he spot to great the person speaking behind you. You  on the other hand freeze on the spot.

Heartbreak.

What was she doing here. Had she followed you?  Of course she could have followed you. You were just too telepathicly blind, to notice it. You turn around and see Ortega  give  your true self  a kiss. It was strange seeing her affection from this far.  Too physical. Too  awkward.

When  your real body returns the affection though, the feelings you have turn to bitter rage.  You had kissed Ortega before but it was always cautionary. Even when  both of you were in the heat of the moment.

This thing that was inside your body made it look like  an average couple sharing a normal everyday kind of  affection. Al of it fake. But Ortega coudnt see trhough that. You want to run forward and hit yourself again and again. Anything to get that thing out of your shell.  You know you cant. You're not strong enough.

Heartbreak throws you a knowing smile.

You turn around. Hands balling into fists.  Trying to collect yourself .

" How did you find this place?" Ortega asks. They start walking towards you.

" Through Steel of course darling. He has a tab on every one of you as you know."

"Darling? That's new. You never used to call me that."

" I dont?"  

For a moment  you can feel a heavy pressure pressing against your shields. The taste and feeling of death and sickness kreeping trhough your thoughts. She wants to know how you behave around Ortega.

But you are  not gonna give that information to her. She might know you well enough but there is still parts of your mind she didn't have time to access before you escaped.  The sheilds are holding.  Dr Mortun had done a good job as always.  

Maybe you could still Winn this. Stop her before she became too strong to hide from.

Unlikely.

Finally  the pressure disappears. You turn around to face them again. This time a little more confident.

" Well the shrink told me to live it  up a little. Today."

"Be positive! She said.  So I thought I'd be more positive by calling you it. Of course if you don't like it.."

"No! It's ok. I like it. I'm glad that your getting the help you need. But David the shrink has a name. I know you don't like her that much but at least call her by her real  name."

" Her name? I don't even remember it"

"Oh! David. Now your just being  rude."

This was getting a bit funn. Seeing yourself. No. Her, getting frustrated for a change. Of course you remember her name. And you never got the impression that going trough  a psychiatric conversation could help you out. In fact it had only shown the frigid,  broken person you are.

" What does it matter what they are called. Brandy or Brockly. It dosent matter. I don't go there to know their names. Just their help. And anyway who's that?"

Heartbreak points a straight finger towards you. Almost in a acuseing  manner. As if you were to blame for her lack of knowledge. Ortega sighs, shoulders rising and lowering.

" Fine. We'll talk about your  ill manners towards psychiatrists later. This is a friend of mine."

"Yasmin meet David. David, Yasmin."

David stretches out his hands towards you.

" Hi! I'm David Bastri. Ortegas real boyfriend. Not that she has anyone else who cares about her." He says with an exaggerated grinn.

Before you have the urge to hit your own body  again you  grab his hand. Your hand.

"Yasmin." You say shortly.

" Nice to meet you Yasmin. You look a bit timid in there." He points towards your head. " Are you ok?"

Ortega gives him a glare.

" Never mind. I already know." He keeps smiling at you.

" you wish you knew!" You think to yourself.

"I'm sure you do." You say instead. Giving him a glare as well.

"  Sorry Yasmin. David seems a bit over excited today"

Ortega jabs him with a finger.

" Just because you have a certain skill dosent meen you can use it whenever and however you like, on it."

While Yasmin was suposed to know who Sidestep was. She didn't know his "certain skill"  as Ortega had put it. And that's the way you'd wanted things to be.  Or at least the way Ortega wanted it to be, each time the name came up.

" She dosent know? I mean of course she dosent darling. But  I thought she was your friend."

" She is. But these things take time to trust someone with. And besides you'd never allow me to tell anyone else that dosent know!"

" Oh right. Hero secrecy. My bad."

Ortega crosses her arms as she looks at David. The pressure against your sheilds have returned again.  Stronger, more forcefull this time. It seems like Heartbreak didn't manage to steal al your thoughts. Maybe the things she knows about you are segments of your life. Not the whole picture.  That must be why she coudnt find you for the last 2 days. Does that meen youre armor is safe?

Its a good thing you managed to escape before she took al your memories.

Just as you need to escape now. Your sheilds won't be able to hold for much longer. The buzzing in your ears has already increased due to the pressure.

" David. I think you have mixed  positive and weird attitudes together. You are being more weird  than positive today."

" Look!" You say before  Heartbreak has time to awnser.

"  Im having a bad day. So how about I leave you two alone. I'll see you tomorrow Ortega. We'll talk then."

" NO! STAY!" Heartbreak shouts as you are walking towards the exit. You feel a hand grab you and turn you around. You look straight into your own blue eyes. A dangerous glint.  gloaming over them as Heartbreak drags you backwards a bit.

" Hey David what are you doing? Just let her go. "  

Ortega steps over to you're left side.

"  Meirda! I'm sorry Yasmin. I wasn't expecting David to show up and act this weird today."

"Nothing wrong with being weird.Darling"  

" Ugh. Seriously David! What's wrong with you today? Cut the act!" This time she brings a fist to his right arm.

"Alright alright. Darling I'll apologize. I do not lack manners."

Ortega is about to hit him again but he steps to the side.

" Yasmin right. I think we started on the wrong foot . I have as you might have guessed a certain gift that allows me to judge people before I say hi to them. Great gift. But it tends to be difficult to controll sometimes. It's like trying to catch a  certain lost and frightened little sheep running around , or puppy as I would describe it." He gives you a smile as he turns to Ortega. "Happy now?"

Ortega sighs and shakes her head. Heartbreak turns to you again.

" How about you and I get to know each other a bit more ,hmm?"

She looks at Ortega again as she pulls out a few bills.

"  Ortega . Sweetheart! Why don't you give us al some sugar. While the others are on their way There is a store  a few blocks away. I think it's name was CANDY AND CREAMS. Lovely place. Sells the most excellent sweets and snacks."

" Oh it's sweetheart now? That's something you definitely don't call me."

" David are you sure you aren't takeing this whole positive thing a bit too far? And did you just say you invited the rest of the Rangers to come here?"

" We have things to discuss. Hero stuff. And remember I'm being positive today. That's what the doctor, whatever her name was said to me. Being a hero. Saving the day has been quite  anxious as of late. A change of pace never hurts. Now please just go to the store and by us some snacks . Will you. I'm trying to be nice to our friend here."

As she talks, Heartbreak grabs Ortega and starts dragging her towards the exit.

" David you're retired . Unless you have been saving people in secret."

" Yes. That too. Now please I'm begging you, just go to that store and buy us something. You can't miss it. Big red sign and everything else that screams sugar! Please just go."

Heartbreak gives Ortega a pleading look. One she can't resist. Stupid woman was always to friendly with anyone with a sad face. It would get her killed one day.

" Oh! Fine. Just be nice towards Yasmin while I'm gone. And stop being weird. "

" Don't worry cupcake. I think me and Yasmin will get along just fine."

He gives her a kiss. A kiss that anoys you to the core.

" Cupcake." Ortega mutters. The exit door closeing behind her.

Heartbreak turns around. Her face is no longer smiling. The wrinkles on her face being visible. Was this how you normally looked. You hate mirrors. Too many bad memories.

For the longest time there was a heavy silence betweem the two of you. Before it became too uncomfortable for you.

" You know what your problem is?. You talk too much and you're bad at pretending. So how about you give my body back and I'll show you how it's done"

" My social skills aren't the best. I do admit that. But then again I'm not the one hiding behind long sleeves and false  illusions. Just so I can be called normal. Quite dangerous.if you ask me pup."

" I'm going to get back my body. No matter what happens. And I'm going to end you. Properly this time."

She starts laughing at you.

" David. Poor helpless David. How would you live without me? The nightmares I provide. They made you stronger. Sett you free.   Taught you how to hold the strings. Taught you how to use your powers in new ways. Previously thought impossible. And this is how  you thank me. Now I'm really hurt pup."

Her laughing has been replaced by a coy smile.

"How can you kill me when I'm you? It would be suicide. But I dare you pup. Go ahead and see what happens."

"Those nightmares ruined my life. I had a good life before you came along. You made me insane. Every night I have to go through what I lost. What you took from me. Getting rid of you will be a blessing."

"But it won't change the truth. Will it pup. Your life was already a mess the day you were created. You just didn't realize it until I came along and opened your eyes "

" What do you want?! If you wanted to kill me here is your chance to overload my sheilds and do it. After witch you'd have to explain yourself to Ortega."

Seeing this thing spilling the truth was something you didn't need right now. She was a mirror showing you your true colors. No wonder you're armors helmet had one.  A way of showing the world the truth. A way of showing people their true nature. And here you were. Getting a taste of your own medicine.  You want to throw up.

Was she right? Was your life forfeit the moment they made you. Had gaining your freedom and  getting atached to people been part of your programming al along?  You have thought about it a million times.

It dosent matter. Maybe your life was forfeit. But what you did in the present was al your  own choices. Perhaps you could gain true freedom by getting rid of her. You could finally sleep in peace.  Eather way your sheilds are almost out now. You need to get your body back. But how?

" I want the same thing you want. Only on a scale that matters. You should join me pup. We're practicality the same. A family. If you want to count that other fellow. What was his name? Hollow Ground. He was the first of our kind. And still he wasn't hard to capture. Old age or me being superior. I can't tell wich. "

You had met Hollow Ground before. Duering you're heist for Dr Mortun. You had barely escaped from his telepathic onslaught. Only the grace of the Rat King and his hive had allowed you to be able to escape him.

Him being there  at the auction was  something you weren't prepared for. Just as you weren't prepared to find out what he was. An older version of yourself. With the same blue eyes and straight  wavy light brown   hair.  His henchmen were looking for you ever since. And it seems like he has people inside the LDPD. Hense their increased activity towards  you.

"What's Hollow Ground to do with you?"

" Oh he's nothing special pup. I got that seat reserved for you. Hollow Ground is just a minor hindrance . A kingpin of the human underground and a telepath to boot, could be a problem. Unless you are as fabilous as me. Then the problem is already solved. "

" Whatever your plan is, you can count me out. I'm not joining you. I'm going to get my body back one way or the other. And then your gone. Forever."

"So much hate. And I haven't even shown you what my plan is."

"Don't care."

"Even if it involves your little meryband of friends and that girl you are so found of. Lovely girl. I wouldn't want anything bad happening to her. Isn't that right David puppy. But then again I could be wrong. I hear You are one of the bad once these days."

"The store. It's not really  a store is it? What did you do to Ortega?"

Should you even care. You were suposed to be the villian. Not the hero. That was a long time ago. Didn't you bery that past at the museum. It was meant to move you forward. To cut you from the last straw that was tying you down. Sidestep was dead and that's how it should be. And Ortega. How many times did you not think of hurting her. You had already done it once. Bleeding on the ground.  

One arm dislocated. You know you will do it again in the future. Not just to her but the rest of the Rangers.  Maybe takeing it as far as killing them.  So why did you care? Why was your thoughts raceing with panic and your heartbeat fuming with rage as your shields died out.

" I can feel your thoughts now pup. You really do care about her don't you. About al of them. Deep down in that cold heart of yours. Isn't that sweet and pathetic."

She starts laughing.

"Now it's going to be much more funn than I thought it would be! ".

It was al she needed to say for you to rush forward. You  have had enough of this thing. She had taken your body. Your powers. And now she was going after your friends. You didn't care that it was wrong of you to care about them. You just wanted to kill this thing. Make her suffer. Stop her before she ruined your life again.

Before you take a step however you feel an. immense pain hitt  your head. You try to ignore it. As you walk towards her. But the pain makes you colapse to the floor  You try to exit your puppets body. You find yourself unable to.

"BAD PUPPY! Did you think you had a chance against me? Me the fabilous who gave you soo much. "

You can barley breath. The air exiting out of your lungs. The feeling of having a thousand needles injected into your body. A thousand cuts of pain coursing trough you.

"You really are a sucker for punishment. Aren't you David.  Just look at you!"

She gives you a hard kick to you stomach. It almost makes you go unconscious.

" This my dear is what you get for being close to those humans . And here I thought you might be different. But you are as week and as emotional as they are.  They create you. Make you do their dirty little jobs. And at the end treat you like trash. How do you repay them once you are free pup. Did you do what I was trying to do all those years ago. Do you  kill them?  Make them suffer as you have.?  No!"

She gives you another kick. Much harder this time. You roll over. Hands unable to  grasp the painful spots in your puppets body.

" No you really dont. So what do you do instead, welp? You mingle with them. Develop false feelings for them in the hopes that they might just call you sane, normal, human. How disgusting!"

You are almost about to lose consciousnes when the pain subsides enough for you to breathe long  heavy breaths. You feel  a numbness across Yasmins body. Now your body.

Suddenly you hear the front door open. You turn over again. Could this be the other  Rangers Heartbreak  spoke of?  Your hopes die quickly as you see a beef  man enter trough the door.  The man looks at you and then at Heartbreak. His face going from calm to one of fear.

" B...Bos. it's taken care of. Charge has been put down. Gave us quite  the f... fight . But the insulator worked. She had no armor."

"Good. "

"See David, this is how a puppy should behave. Al of this could have been avoided if you just played along. If you just joined me. But since you won't we might as well start the show. I'm going to give you one last nightmare pup. Real this time. See it as a gift for al the truble you gave me al those years ago."

" F..Forgive me Bos but isn't sh..she a woman. Why do you  call her David?"

"Silence idiot! I've had enoughof this thing. Pick him up. And don't ask questions unless you want to end up like your friend."

"Y...Yes boss."

The man scoops you up like you didn't weight anything. Like you were a ragdoll. Maybe that's  what you are now. A ragdoll inside another ragdoll.

"O..rte..ga". You try to mutter as the man walks you towards the exit. Heartbreak walking besides him.

" Sweet girl isn't she? Too bad she won't save you. No one will pup. You are al alone, abandoned . Just like in your other  nightmares. Only this time, it's real, handsome . But don't panic now. We are  still far from the main course ."

As you are taken outside you can hear the buzzing of people walking past your carrier. The sound of music. The taste and smell  of hot sausage. The fresh air of the afternoon.  Everywhere people are walking past you. Yet you cant hear their thoughts. Every face that you see has nothing to share. No hidden secrets. No emotions of joy, jealousy, love, hate, fear. You are deaf to all of them.

Once you look at an old man carrying a kane.

"You are a failure!" He suddenly shout. Pointing a finger at you. You look away. Only to be faced  with an old business looking woman.

" you're  the worst villian ever!"

" You suck!" Two teenagers shout  simultaneously  besides the woman

" No one can save you man!" You hear a croud of people say in front of you.

" Stop it!

You try to wiggle your way out of your captor. He holds you tighter.

" What's the matter puppy. Can't handle the truth? You wanted to show these people the truth. Its only fair they get to do the same. Before they die."

A little girl with styled up red hair is now standing in front of you.

" Legion. What kind of stupid name is that!"

It was your new identity. acquainted with your new self. A name people would remember. A name people who saw the truth could share. A name to be feared. Yet the girl in front you looked at you with spite, rather than fear.

No it was just this thing  doing  al of this. Maybe the girl in reality was afraid of you. You can't tell since you have no telepathy to aid you.

" Better runn little girl."

Heartbreak snaps her fingers. The girl screams and starts running to your right. Far away from al of you. For a moment you wish you were that girl. You had promised yourself you'd  never runn away. But in this case you just wanted to be far away from this thing.

She had grown significantly more powerful since you last faced her. 8 years ago. Controlling this  crowd  with ease.  A much more powerful Re Gene than you. And it had  al been  thanks to you. You wish you had known your nightmares to be more than what meets the eye.

" And now the funn begins!"

Heartbreak spreads her arms as if expecting a hug. It dosent come. What does however makes you stomach squirm. It was like being back at the incident. Around you people starts to scream. People start holding their heads. Some people are touching their throats as if something is wrong with it. Gunshots appear towards your left. A man holding a knife is walking towards another man.

"You cheated on me you bastard!"  He shouts.

" You never loved me in the first place!" The other man shouts back.  He picks up a broken branch from a nearby tree.  You know what is about to happen. You try to look away but you can't. Your head is frozen on the spot.

" You will watch this pup. See how week these humans are. Al you need to create a riot is to ignite the smallest sparks of hatred. Fabilous isn't it. And these are the kind of people you want to be part of?"

The two men clash. The one holding the knife being superior. He tackles the other man to the ground. Stabbing him with the knife multiple times. It would seem this man was a worse villian than you. At the museum you tried to keep people safe. They were just victims.

n general you had avoided killing people this far.

 More people start to atack each other on the streat.

What made this ordeal worse for you though was that she used your body,  your face as the person responsible for this mayhem. How would  you  feel if you ever got your body back. Would you have to hide in your armor from now on?

"Now we must move on. Onwards Carl."

The man named Carl keeps a firm hold on you as he walks forward. Everywhere you go, people start to scream. Mass panic ensues.

For someone with great power Heartbreak wasn't the most cautionary with it. Sooner or later the LDPD would show up. Maybe even the Special Directive. This could be your chance to escape.

" Don't get your hopes up dear. And speaking of these so called policmen."  She turns around as two cars with sirens  are coming behind you.

" They are nothing! "

You hear a loud crash and try to look behind you.  The two cars crashing into each other.

A group of three LDPD officers.  Step out of each car. A woman steps forward.

" LDPD Stop! Put your hands behind your head."

" Why do they always say that. "

She looks at them with a laugher.

"Carl. Are we at the destination yet?"

"Y...Yes b..boss. Just underneath this tunnel."

"Good. Take our friend down the hatch."

Carl drops you to the ground. As he opens a hatch nearby. Your urge to escape is quenched by the share will of Heartbreak.  Pinning you to the ground. Across the road you can hear the screech and pain of the officers. The sound of gunshots as loud as fireworks.

Carl picks you up on your feet.

" Move!" He points towards the hatch

Seeing no other way out. You climb down the hatch and down into the familiar  sewers of Los Diablos. Many months ago you had  walked these sewers in victory. And now in defeat.

" Nothing is truly random."  That's what you once said to Dr Mortun. She didn't belive you then. What would she say now. After a long walk you finally come to a halt. The stench almost unbearable. Above you there is another hatch connecting to a lather.

"Ugh. Finally. Here we are. Can't take this disgusting place any longer. Carl be a good puppy and open that hatch"

Heartbreak pushes you forward once Carl  climbs up the lather. A bright light coming from above.

It turns out to be a flashlight from another much smaller man.

You find yourself in a basment.  A long Stair leading up to a grey door. Torn boxes are lying in a corner. While empty cans of bear and cigarettes lay  everywhere else.

" Helo Gorge. Everything well with Argent? She hasn't escaped has she?"

"No boss. The shields and  the cage are holding. Sorry boss. But it's getting harder to maintain her.  She has already  broken  a good chunk of the cage."

" Ugh. Human incompetence. Carl be a good dear and ...kill him."

Carl pulls out a gun from his pocet.  Hands shakeing as he Hesitates.

" But boss I..i did everything you asked."

" I ask for perfection and you give me incompetence. Shoot him  Carl!"

"S..Sorry man." He says as he pulls the trigger.

" Now you David. Take that flashlight so we can move on."

" You might have blocked my powers but don't for a second belive I'm your puppet.  Let him pick it up."

" Poor David. Must we do this again?"

" If it anoys you. Then yes"

" No matter. You are about to die anyway. Cant leave a dying man's wish on the table. Right? Carl pick that  up."

She pushes you towards the stairs. Outside the basment  you find yourself in what looks like a hospital floor. White walls surrounding you, no windows to be seen. The Walls having cuts everywhere. Two thugs are guarding each side of the hallway.

" Is this where they made you." You remember the hospital in your dreams. Always at the end. Always painful to relive.

" Underground lab. It's abandoned now. They have many others elsewhere. I'll be sure to take a visit once I'm done with you."

" I could have helped you. Things didn't  have to  go this way. Your not the only victim."

" Don't think we have anything in common puppy. I'm the only  fabilous victim that dosent mix with these weeklings."

" I'm not asking for a second chance. I get my powers back and you are as good as dead."

" Not that you will."

" We'll see about that."

"Yes we will!" She pushes you forward. " This way pup. Oh and enjoy the scenery while you're  still breathing."

You walk past rooms plastered with numbers. Past what looks to be a small reception. Broken glass splattered across the  half  broken table. What had caused this? Lady Argent.

" She has quite the spirit. Unlike you puppy.  The first real challenge I've ever faced. Though once you get past the shell. She's as  vulnerable as the rest of the humans. Maintaining her has been a nuisance."

"How did you capture all of them. Besides Ortega?"

" It dosent matter. We are here." She pushes you towards a silver grey door. Room 94b Special Treatment.

" Al made for you this day. Open the door."

You step in to a verry large and verry familiar room. This was the room from your dreams. But it looked differently. Instead of the usual setting you were used to seeing. It now had  a TV monitor on on of the walls.  A reporter standing behind a crowd of  frightened people.

Thugs are  standing in different corners. But what draws your attention is  the  5 psyprojectors seated across the room. In a  circle. Big  chairlike machines with tubes and cables  that connected  them togetheer.

An interrogation device. Designed to gather neurological data from a host trhough  VR simulation . The main  Chair slightly separate  from the others, was one of the projectors allowing the interrogator to controll and navigate  the hosts memory. Several hosts could share memories with each other and the interrogator. On 3 of the psyprojectors sat Ortega, Steel and Herald .  Blue circular rings with yellow and red  light bulbs atached to their heads.

"Carl! Check up on our lady and make sure she dosent escape."

" What have you done to them?" They seamed unconscious.

" You know what this is pup. It's time to Step out of the shaddows. Let your friends know your true face. It's the least you can do before you all diie."

"No. Im.n..n..not" You feel the familiar pressure coming towards you again.

"Less talk, more action handsome. I'm on the clock.  And it's not like you have a choice."

Her will over matching yours, you loose control over your limbs as you are forcefully driven towards  one of the machines. You knew you'd have to reveal yourself to al of them sooner or later. Telling Ortega the truth was already hard enough. This was too much. You were unprepared, unsure. But worst of all , you were afraid.  Afraid of seeing the truth in their eyes. That they ment nothing to you. That they were just puppets ment to be used for a cause . Your cause.

It was a hard pill to swallow.

And your scars. The scars that defines who you are. You hid them well under long sleeves and two layers of shirts. Yet there they are. Al you needed to do was dig a bit deeper and the truth would show up. As its about to do now.

It was weird having lost control of al your limbs. The parts of your brain that controled them was sealed of. As if you had never learned how to walk. How to use your hands. Your feets. Your body automatically sits down  on one of the chairs. Hands crossed. Backside relaxing into the seat. Heartbreak lowers down the blue ring above you.

"Sweet dreams puppy."

As the object reaches your head you feel an instant pull upwards. Upwards where? And where is here? Colors everywhere. Too many of them to describe. It was confusing. Then you feel as if you had jumped from the highest peek of a mountain. Spiraling  down.

Down into the cold blue waters of a pool.

[inkstainedfanfics]

How to Survive

Request: "So I accidentally sent my request unfinished so here it is😂 Can you do newt x reader where reader is seriously ill and Newt is traveling around the world to find the cure? Like you can leave her at London or make her go with him, your choice! Maybe it gets angsty af but at the end everything works out and it's pure fluff♥️" 

Word Count: 2,990

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Requested by Anonymous but also tagging @dont-give-a-bother @red-roses-and-stories and @caseoffics

The hospital bed with its thin mattress and crinkly sheets makes no noise when the doctor approaches, a sheet of paper in his hand and a look on his face that leaves a sour taste in your mouth. Newt stiffens next to you, but he doesn’t stop rubbing small circles on your back. You lean into his touch as much as you dare, not wanting him to feel the terror pulsing through you with every heartbeat. You hide your trembling hands in the folds of the thin gown the cheery nurses wrapped around your body earlier today before they pricked your arm in four different places with four different needles. A line of sweat beads up in your hairline, threatening to drip down as the doctor’s heavy boots thump against the cream-colored tiles that line the floors of Saint Mungo’s. Your mouth is dry and you want to shout at him to hurry up, to come tell you already how they’re going to solve your splitting headaches and wobbly legs.

You don’t, though. You wait with a pounding heart and held breath as your physician lifts his chin, face contorted into a pitying frown and sad eyes, and he tells you the readings.

“We’ve found what’s causing your symptoms.” His voice is gruff, factual, uncaring despite his expression as he describes first in medical terms then in simplified terms exactly what your body is doing to kill you.

The news comes with a ringing in your ears and a sense of hopelessness that spreads through your chest faster than your thoughts can process it. Terminal. No cure. Two years. Your hands shake as Newt sits beside you, hand unknowingly tightening its grip on your waist, the questions he asks coming out in a tight, clipped tone that reveal that the absolute terror you feel is also pestering him.

“Surely there’s something… You must, you must know some cure.” Newt says, still processing what the doctor said.

“I’m sorry.” He places what’s supposed to be a comforting hand on your shoulder; you just feel faint. “I’ll give you some time to talk with one another. When I return, we can discuss possible treatments to alleviate any pain.”

Then he walks away, pulling the paper curtain that hangs near your bed closed, giving you and Newt the option of grieving your lost future in peace.

Neither you nor Newt move a muscle, though, as the doctor’s words sink in. Terminal. No cure. Two years.

Two years, he’d said with a pitying look you know he painted on moments before he decided to tell you. Two years, he’d said with no inflection of real grief in his voice. Two years, he’d said as if those two years aren’t supposed to be filled with love and happiness and living without the threat of death hanging over your head at every turn.

Two. Years.

Tears slide down your cheeks, snapping Newt into motion. He pulls you against his warm chest, resting his chin on the top of your head and murmuring comforting words, but his voice shakes. It shakes the same way your entire body does as the words repeat like a record in your head.

Your breathing quickens. This isn’t fair. You and Newt have plans, goals. Marriage, a family, some time with just each other, no one else, no other distractions, just a simple life with the love of your life.

The tears spill faster, wetting the sleeve of Newt’s jacket as you watch every dream you’ve ever had melt away into nothing but a year of bed rest, two of misery, and a lifetime of Newt’s own grief.

Oh Merlin, he doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve this at all.

Newt holds you tight, pretending he’s not falling apart like you are, trying to be tough, to hold himself together for your sake right now. You know it, and your heart breaks. He’s too good. Too good for this, for such imminent heartbreak, for such a horrid injustice.

Still, he holds you, heart hammering in his chest, keeping you close the rest of the afternoon until a grim-faced nurse approaches you with kind words and a release form. You sign it quickly and accept her well wishes with a nod, turning to Newt.

He wraps his arms around your waist, lips brushing your forehead in the ghost of a kiss. “I’ll fix this, love.”

Then he apparates with you, dragging you through that narrow pipe that always leaves you sick, supporting you when the wooden floor of your one-bedroom apartment slams against the soles of your feet. You falter and lean completely against him for a brief moment. He doesn’t let go, just holds you until you steady yourself.

When you look up, tears line the bottoms of Newt’s eyes and his lip is caught between his teeth as he looks you up and down.

He gives you a weak smile when he notices your glance. “Sorry, not the smoothest landing. At least I didn’t lose either of us an eyebrow.”

You don’t bother trying to work a smile onto your face in response. The doctor’s words are too busy playing over and over in your head: the painful side effects that have yet to appear, the cost of the pain remedies, the support groups that don’t exist, at least, not in this area.

The diagnosis sticks like a leech to you and sucks all your energy away, so you just look up at Newt with what you assume are blank eyes and ask him to help you to your shared room.

His smile fades at your look, but he helps you hobble into the bedroom and sit down.

You sit on the bed, lifting your leg to pull your shoes off. “Are you going to see your creatures?”

Newt shakes his head and kneels in front of you. “I have more important worries.”

So it’s starting already; he’s already giving up his passion for you. “You can’t give up your life for me, Newt. You heard what the doctor said.” You choke on the next word as it comes out of your mouth. “Terminal.” You clear your throat. “That means permanent.”

His lower lip trembles the slightest bit, but he holds himself together with a grace you wish you could master. “You are my life. I would never give you up.”

He reaches up to brush two tears away with his thumb as you start to break down again. “Don’t say that.”

“Why can’t I be honest now?” He tries to grin again, but it’s more of a pained grimace. “If you’d told me lying is okay years ago, I would have saved myself some arguments.”

A humorless chuckle breaks past your lips, but the easy moment passes quickly. “What are you going to do?”

He tilts his head, still chasing the tears away from your cheeks with his thumbs. “I’m going to save you.”

You rub your eyes. “You can’t. You heard the doctor.”

Newt swallows, voice cracking. “The doctor doesn’t know me, now, does he?”

You run your hands over your face. “Don’t do this. Don’t give yourself any hope.”

Newt’s eyes soften as he cups your cheek in his hand. “Too late, love, and nothing you say will change my mind. You may have convinced me to throw that ratty pair of boots in the trash, but this is different.” His voice falls quieter. “So different.”

“Newt—“

“You need sleep.”

You don’t want to argue. That leech is still stuck to you, still draining you of everything in you, and Newt isn’t helping. You won’t let him win this, though. He needs to understand, needs to be able to let you go.

The gift of moving on: It’s the least you can give him.

“You need to accept that I’m going to…” You trail off, trying to muster your anger at the universe and channel it into accepting this fate yourself.

He pushes himself to his feet, pressing a kiss against your chin, your nose, your forehead, before cradling your face in both his hands and softly kissing your lips for only a few seconds.

“You’re going to sleep and when you wake up, we’re going to figure this out. There’s nothing else, no other path we will travel down. This is together. We’re going to be together.”

You let your eyes shut as you lie down. Thin sheets drift down moments later as Newt covers you with them. He presses a final kiss to your forehead before walking to the doorway and stopping, facing you.

You open your eyes, watch him as he flicks the lights out with a twist of his wand when it appears in his hand. He pauses, staring at your unmoving figure, and you swear he wipes at his eyes before he turns and leaves.

Your heart grows as heavy as your eyelids.

Your sleep is restless for the next two weeks, filled with dreams of the doctor and Newt’s face at your funeral and your future lost to catastrophe after catastrophe. You toss and turn and toss and turn and wake every two hours with the bedsheets Newt so kindly lays over you twisted around your legs, only covering half your torso and dragging over the ground.

Today, you’re on your stomach, miserable from the horrid sleep and the terrifying dreams that left you unable to scream. You flip onto your back and stare at the ceiling. Newt snoozes next to you, finally in a peaceful slumber now that you aren’t rolling around every twenty minutes. You swallow your guilt. He’s had bags under his eyes every day since your diagnosis, partly because of your sleeping habits — he’s up every time you are, there to wrap an arm around you and murmur slurred words of comfort in your ear to remind you that it’s all fake — and partly because of the stack of books next to the bed. Research. He researched everything even vaguely related to you, searched every textbook ever printed, read every researcher’s note. He’s determined to find the cure.

He won’t listen when you tell him to stop, that it’s no use, but he keeps reading so you stay silent, not really wanting him to give up on you.

Lying in bed, thoughts heavy from sleep and heart heavier, you consider leaving. Consider it even though you know you won’t be able to tear yourself from Newt. You’re too selfish to truly leave him, to say goodbye while he sleeps and apparate away to some place where he’ll never find you, where he won’t have to watch you as you die. He’s too good and you’re too selfish.

You snort at the thought. How could you ever have deserved someone like him?

You fall asleep again with these thoughts on your mind, resulting in another two hours of ghastly dreams and worthless sleep.

This time, though, you wake because of a noise in the room. You reach out for Newt on the other side of the bed but hit empty sheets. Confused and scared, you flip over, calling for him.

His name dies on your lips.

He stands a few feet away from you, back to you, lantern next to him the only light on in the room, placed behind books to block it from hitting you. The light illuminates Newt, though, as he stands at the dresser, lifting clothes and sticking it in a bag.

Packing. He’s packing.

Oh Merlin. You can’t breathe. He’s leaving you.

Tears start down your cheeks as you watch him work quickly, hands nimbly plucking up shirts and folding them away in the open suitcase on top of the dresser.

You sit up noiselessly, watching him with a hand over your mouth, holding back the sobs trying to break out. He needs to leave. This is right. You should have left him, really. You shouldn’t be the one driving him away. He’s just trying to move on before the inevitable.

Still, it stings. It stings worse than you ever would have imagined.

A strangled sob makes it way out of your mouth as you imagine how different your life will be now that he’ll be gone. You’ll have to buy a cane or something, and try to find a job willing to employ someone that can’t work for more than a few hours at a time.

Newt peers over his shoulder at the noise, certain it’s from another dream, but when he sees you sitting there, his task is forgotten as he crosses the three steps separating you and sits on the edge of the bed, hand reaching up but hesitating, unsure of what to do.

“What hurts, love?”

You blink tears out of your gaze and drink in as much of him as you can. The shadows outline his face, offering the first view of him without heavy bags under his eyes that you’ve had in weeks. His breath crosses your face and his straight nose nearly pokes yours as he leans forward to examine your face.

“Are you crying? Merlin’s beard, tell me, please. What hurts? Is it your legs? I can get the medicine.”

You grab his hand as he starts toward the kitchen. “No.”

The word is soft but he hears it. “Your head?”

You shake your head as you draw up the courage to tell him that you saw what he was doing. “You’re… you’re leaving me.”

He searches your face and frowns. “It was just a dream, love. Remember?”

You glance at his filled suitcase, blinking three times and reaching up to pinch yourself, praying Newt’s right and this is just a dream.

You don’t wake up.

Newt looks the same way, realization dawning on his face. “Oh, the suitcase.” He looks back at you. “No, love, I wasn’t leaving you. I promise.” He pauses, running a hand through his hair before attempting a joke. “I know you’d just track me down, anyway.” He smiles dimly and takes your hands into his.

You stare at the open suitcase, heart breaking in ten different places at what it represents. “It’s all right, Newt. I understand.”

His voice is strained when he answers, so different than it usually is, so revealing of his stress. “I’m not packing because I plan on abandoning you when you most need me.”

You take as deep a breath as you can. “I want you to know I don’t blame you if you choose to.”

Any semblance of joking or happiness melts from Newt’s face as an overwhelming grief replaces it with hard lines and a clenched jaw. “You can’t honestly believe you don’t deserve me, can you?”

You shrug, eyes still stuck on that suitcase for a moment longer than necessary.

Newt’s voice breaks, the first time it really has revealed the depths of his grief since that day in the hospital. “I could never—“ He pauses, staring at your joined hands. “I could never imagine a life without you right next to me, without you laughing at my jokes so I don’t feel alone or singing to my creatures. I can’t…” He has to stop again, try to compose himself.

It’s your turn for the first time in the past two weeks to wipe tears from his face.

It takes a full minute before he can speak again. “Don’t think I want to leave. Please don’t think that poorly of me. I’m doing everything I can to be sure we help you. Please don’t assume I don’t want to be with you because the world is cruel. I love you too much to know you feel so poorly about me.”

You shut your eyes at the vulnerability he’s showing, the complete honesty, the break in his voice as he falls apart at the thought of being without you. You wish now you’d said nothing.

When you open your eyes, Newt smiles. It’s feeble, but the best he can pull together at the moment. “I do have one important question for you.”

You do your best to help him ease the tension filling the room after he says nothing. “Are you planning on telling me or do I have to call up Queenie?”

He doesn’t smile, but the corners of his lips twitch up. That’s enough for you.

He tilts his head. “Oh Merlin, she’d have me in therapy in a moment. My creatures would starve.”

You chuckle once, and his lips curve up into a real smile.

He clears his throat. “I know you don’t want us to hope, but I can’t stand the idea of letting this happen, and I’ve always been one to interfere in plans,” he smiles at your sleepy smile, “so would you accompany me in ignoring fate’s decisions and travel to other various countries in search of a cure?”

You take in the intensity of his gaze as his eyes dart around your face and search for a ‘no’ before you can say it. Your heart swells and flutters at the unwavering, assured love present in every plane of his face. He feels so strongly for you, he’s willing to risk everything of his just to help you.

You start to cry at the thought and curse yourself as the tender love disappears from his face, replaced by a devastatingly intense concern that would drop you to your knees if you were standing.

“Love, are you okay?” The worry even pervades his voice, leaving it in a panicky, raised tone.

You lift a hand to his cheek. “I’m fine, Newt. I am.” You take another breath, making your decision. “Just stay next to me wherever we go, okay?”

A gentle smile returns to his face as he nods and places a hand over the one you’ve laid on his face. “I would never choose to be anywhere else.”

And with those words, the two of you agree to set out to help you save yourself.