#also yeah he just woke up to find two years of his life gone in a flash and everybody moved on

[enderevynne]

MASS EFFECT 2: LEGENDARY EDITION ➤ OC GIFS: Zeke

ZEKE SHEPARD

what have I done

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Princess

John Winchester x daughter!reader

Requested by anonymous

Synopsis: a few one shots of you growing up with John as your father.

Warnings: mentions of blood, honestly it’s 80% fluff

John was used to fear. He woke up every morning with it, stronger each day it seemed, fear that the fate that had befallen his wife would come to his children. He was used to fear of the dark, and of what was truly hiding in it. He was certainly used to fearing for his life.

But this was a different kind of fear. When the woman that he had gone out with for a while about a year ago knocked on his door, and handed him the smallest baby he’d ever seen, all wrapped up in a pink blanket, John knew a new fear. When that same woman turned on her heel, got in her car, and drove away, that fear turned into panic.

“Hey!” He called out. “You can’t just-“

But the car was gone, and all his shouting had done was startle you awake. The bundle in his hands shifted, and you began to cry.

“Hey, shh,” he rocked you gently from side to side, his attention fully on you. “Don’t cry, princess. It’s going to be ok.”

…

“Hey princess,” John’s voice was thick with exhaustion as he slumped into the motel room. “Why aren’t you asleep?” He spotted his teenage sons splayed out on the two beds, dead asleep.

“I was,” six-year-old you yawned, tugging on John’s leg. He lifted you into his arms, and you continued. “But I waked up, and I wanted to wait for you.”

“Alright,” John collapsed onto the small couch, cradling your head in one hand as he attempted to lean back comfortably on his makeshift bed. “Well, it’s late, so try to get back to sleep alright?”

“Ok,” you yawned again, tucking your head under his chin while he covered the both of you in his jacket.

You were fast asleep within minutes, and your steady breathing and strong heartbeat comforted John as he closed his eyes, trying to erase the vivid memories of the terror he’d seen that night.

“Good night princess,” John gently kissed the top of your head, before finally falling into a deep sleep.

…

John had a tendency to react to fear with sternness. If one of his kids messed up on a hunt, it was just time to train that much harder. If a new monster was found, they stayed up all night, all week if they had to, finding out everything about it. Danger meant that he needed to prepare his kids, and to do that, sometimes he needed to shut off “dad” and turn on “drill sergeant”.

But not tonight. Tonight was…

Different.

“Me and Sammy are gonna stop at the bar for a bit, you going back to the motel?” Dean was eyeing you as he spoke to John.

“Yeah, I’m gonna take her home,” John mumbled.

“Give me a call if you need anything,” John could tell that Dean was stalling, wanting to remain with you but also sensing that John wanted time alone with you.

“I will,” John assured him. “She’s gonna be alright.”

John arrived at the motel with you a few awkwardly silent minutes later. He led you inside, a hand at the small of your back, and he could feel you trembling. Without a word, you stepped into the bathroom and turned on the sink water. John watched as you scrubbed at your hands, and you spend a few minutes in a futile attempt to clean the blood off of them.

Your scrubbing became more desperate, and John jumped up in alarm when you began to sob, scratching frantically at your arms and hands.

“Hey hey, stop that!” John took your hands in his.

“It-it won’t come off,” you sobbed, staring down at your blood-stained arms.

John stared down at you, opening his mouth to speak before closing it again. You looked so small, hunched in on yourself, and so fragile as you cried and rubbed at your arms.

He couldn’t believe he’d thought you were ready for your first hunt. He couldn’t believe he’d taken you out into the world of monsters and demons and expected you to kill them. If Dean had performed that badly on a hunt, John would’ve had him back in basic training in an instant—after severely chewing him out. If Sam had cowered from the werewolf the way you had, John would’ve made him stay up the whole night training, and doubled his shooting practice for the rest of the month.

But right here, right now, looking down at the crying girl in front of him…

He couldn’t. He couldn’t find it in him to scold you, or place a gun in your small hands, or demand that you pick up your machete and practice with it. He couldn’t find it in him to force you to defend yourself, because he never wanted you to have to.

He wanted to defend you. He wanted to protect you from every evil in the world, he didn’t want you to have to protect yourself.

“Commere princess,” John pulled you tightly into his arms, cradling your head like he’d done when you were a baby. “It’s ok. You’re ok.”

“I’m sorry,” you weren’t completely sobbing anymore, but the tears were still flowing, and he felt you take a shaky breath. “I know I screwed it all up.”

“Hey, hey,” John pulled back slightly, brushing your hair from your face and trying not to cringe when he noticed the dried blood plastering it in place. “You shouldn’t have been out there, you weren’t ready.” It was true that you had done abhorrently on the hunt, and John wasn’t going to lie and say otherwise; he hadn’t gone that soft. But he also wasn’t going to blame you, because he blamed himself for this.

“I just, I-I couldn’t remember what to do, and-and I got so scared-“ your breathing was becoming more labored once again, and John took hold of the back of your head, pushing you against him in an attempt to calm you down.

“Shh, princess you’re ok now. You’re safe now, nothing’s gonna happen. I don’t blame you, ok? I don’t. and I’m going to keep you safe, I promise.”

John knew that he was going to have to tighten up on your training if you were going to survive in this crazy world. But for tonight, he was going to turn off his “drill sergeant” and turn on “dad”, because when he saw his little princess almost get killed by a werewolf, he lost all ability to do anything but hold you tight, and shelter you from every danger that he hadn’t been able to shelter the rest of his family from.

…

“Dad?”

A heavy sigh escaped John’s lips as he set his beer bottle down with a clump.

“You should be in bed.”

“Did he really leave? For good?” One look into John’s despair-filled eyes was all the answer you needed.

“Princess, go to bed.”

You stepped up to where John was sitting, and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

“Dad, I’m sorry.”

“I told you to go to bed,” John ordered, but his voice was soft and noncommittal, and you didn’t miss the way his arms came up to wrap around you in return.

Neither of you knew how long you stayed that way, unwilling to let go. But eventually, Dean came out and found you, and he managed to coerce you into letting go of your father and coming to bed, John following just behind.

The three of you slept fitfully that night, but despite that, there was a tiny comfort in knowing that there was some family that would never leave.

…

You hadn’t spoken a word in days. Dean knew why, but he was powerless to bring you out of your own head. He didn’t blame you for how you reacted; you out of all of them had seemed the closest to John, in your own way. No one could calm or comfort you like he could, and vice versa.

But John wasn’t around to comfort you anymore.

“You know,” Dean began softly as he sat down next to you on the motel bed. “Dad was the one who named you.” A smile played on Dean’s face as he reminisced. “When your mom dropped you off with him, she didn’t give him a name or anything. For nearly two weeks, dad carried you around with no idea what to call you. He mostly stuck with a nickname, until one day he stepped away from your cart in the store, and you started crying. Then this little old lady comes up and holds you, calms you down, and when dad tries to take you back she gets all suspicious. She didn’t think you were really dad’s, and so she says ‘well if she really is yours, what’s her name?’ And dad just panics, and he sees this name tag on a passing clerk and he just blurts out the name on it. He yells, ‘Y/N!’ And you just played along, looking right up at him with your big blue eyes and giggling and reaching for him. So the lady gives you back, and Y/N just kinda stuck.”

The room was silent for a long moment, Dean looking down at you while you mulled over his story.

“What was the nickname?” Your whisper surprised Dean.

“What?”

“You said he called me by a nickname for two weeks. What was the nickname.”

At this, a grin spread across Dean’s face.

“He always called you his princess.”

[aakeysmash]

Roommate or boss?

part 1, part 2, part 4

Pairing: f!reader x Katsuki Bakugou.

Warnings: none.

Word count: 1.5k.

Katsuki knows you will not remember anything from this night tomorrow, since he sees how drunk you are. He’s sober though, and what you said has him thinking from the moment he leaves you on your bed, soundly asleep.

He’s always been a rude guy, he thinks people are too used to kindness to function properly in nowadays society.

To prove his (still standing) point, he opened the cafe when he was 18. He wanted to make something out of his life, and he knew he couldn’t do it without a steady income. Honestly, he opted for a cafe just because one day Midoriya said he couldn’t see him as a cafe owner. Basically, he opened it out of spite. So he bought the store from an old lady that was literally almost gifting it, painted it himself all summer, put the counters/chairs/machines that he bought all over the country (“if they’re good, cheap and they can ship them here, I can always fucking renovate them”) and he hired some of his frien- uhm, classmates, as his work subordinates.

They all just finished high school, so they all needed money. Todoroki and Momo weren’t even together back then. They had their little flirt moments, sure, but working together really strengthened their relationship. It made Katsuki sick to his stomach.

If Katsuki was something, he prided himself on being honest: he never said their paycheck was coming in late, or that they wouldn’t be paid. He did all he could to be the boss he wanted others to be happy about.

For the last 4 years things have gone pretty well. Kirishima was (and still is) a big part of this project, and Katsuki probably wouldn’t have come so far without his aid (even if he would never admit it).

Even if he was indeed the boss, he opts to never go himself at the cafe, since he likes to be behind the scenes more (also, even if he doesn’t know it, this is the reason why he doesn’t recognise you, even if you have been working there for 2 years). And maybe it’s also because seeing some of the people that stuck with him since the beginning makes him feel a tenderness that he doesn’t want to acknowledge.

And yeah, he was definitely still a rude guy. He just didn’t think he wanted to be nice to people, or, well, he knew he didn’t want to be. Things have gotten better since middle school, sure, and he now has friends who accept him just as he is, but he isn’t used to making friends. One day he woke up and he had friends. He always (jokingly?) said he was forced to be their friend.

But you were different.

At the time he met you, he was really desperate to find a place to stay in, since he had to be more and more present each day at the office. His old landlord was an ass and kicked him out since all of a sudden he wanted to rent each room of the establishment to a different person, and he remembers crashing at Kirishima’s place for two weeks while he was searching for a new apartment. You just happened to post that you needed a roommate the same day he was about to call his parents (yes, he was THAT desperate).

You were the 23rd person he visited in those 2 weeks. He was pissed out of his mind: 5 out of 22 people never got up to greet him at the door; 6 already had a roommate and they just wanted to sublet to make more money; 10 were living in such horrible conditions that he thought he got sick every time he saw a pile of old dirt in their home; 1 just wanted to have… some kind of intercourse… since they saw his photo on the booking app.

And when he saw you opening the door of your house with sleep still covering your features, he was about to turn around and really call his old folks. He was tired of this shit.

But you still managed to smile, even if he noticed how your eye ticked slightly when you clarified that he was indeed early after he pettily said that he waited for you for 15 minutes. Also, that remark was probably what made him stay. He didn’t want a weak extra as his roommate, and his more-than-good sixth sense was saying that you were indeed capable of holding your ground.

He does find you incredibly annoying, though. You have this aura of softness he doesn’t like, but that he is drawn into. He is a pretty silent guy when he is in his personal space, while you like to talk about whatever you have done a certain day, or about your new trashy show, or the new recipe that you saw on IG that he “absolutely has to try”. You basically yap all day long, and it gets on his nerves. Badly.

But he also enjoys your company. He’s very loud when he’s with his friends, being as naturally angry as he is about anything, but your softness rubs on him the wrong way, and it makes him stay silent. Well, he knows this is what he tries to tell himself, anyway.

He doesn’t want to admit to himself that the way you want to be his friend puts him in the awkward position of not being able to reciprocate your efforts. It’s not like he doesn’t want to, it’s that he doesn’t know how to, and he hates not being good at something.

And so, he distances himself. Even if he does watch you from afar, and even if he did notice a lot in the 4 (almost 5, “fuck rent is due tomorrow”, he thinks) months you have lived together. For example, you’re super easy to please. When you have a bad day he notices that you brighten up if he cooks both of you dinner (which really isn’t a hassle for him, even if he says so) instead of making you cook for yourself. Or that if you have a pretty tiring day at work/uni and he “accidentally” leaves some coffee in the pot before his morning run the next day, your eyes twinkle a little bit more when he comes back home.

He’s not used to being so close to someone who tries their best to be happy anymore. The last time he was that close to someone happy, he started to be a bully (yes, he did say sorry to Midoriya. Multiple times. Mostly when he sporadically got drunk in high school).

Your outburst gets him thinking because, after all, you’re a really good fucking roommate. He’d hate to have to search for another apartment because you get sick of his ass.

Most importantly, some part of him likes how different you are from him, and he doesn’t want to be rude when he knows you’re just trying to make him like you. But it’s second nature to him. You’re too pure in that sense, and he wants nothing to do with that.

He doesn’t know how to say sorry, just like he doesn’t know how to change things. The fact that you won’t remember anything and even if you will you probably would just shrug it off just makes him believe that it’s not that big of a deal.

After all, if your roommate still pays their rent and acknowledges you as a human being, what could possibly go wrong?

“Fuck, my head is killing me” whines Ochaco while you escort her out of the door.

“We really have to stop getting drunk” you sigh, while rubbing your temples. “You have Midoriya picking you up, right?” you ask your best friend.

“Fortunately yes. Say hi to your roommate, I don’t think we had the chance to meet yet” she responds.

You raise an eyebrow before saying “you don’t think?”.

She shrugs, before adding “you never know, this town isn’t that big. Maybe I’ll find out that, I don’t know, he used to be my boyfriend’s best friend or something like that”.

You laugh, “you read too many novels”.

A car parks right in front of your door, and a guy with green curls walks out of it.

“Hi! I’m Midoriya. You must be the best friend Ochaco always talks about” he says while putting on the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on a human face.

“Hey, that’s most definitely me. Take good care of her, okay?” you reply with a smile of your own. “I have to get back to my thesis, but we have to meet each other again soon. Drive safely!” you add, while he gets her purse on his shoulder and gets the door of the car on her side open.

“Thank you so much babe. Don’t stress yourself and text me!” your best friend says before Midoriya nods at you and starts the car.

You get inside of your house again.

You and Ochaco just woke up, so you still have to eat breakfast.

While you get near the coffee machine you notice a scribbled note on the counter.

“Left coffee 4 u. u'll need it. also, rent is due. -K”.

You smile and roll your eyes, pouring the coffee into a cup while opening your text messages app.

You: you could’ve texted me, you know. Thanks for the coffee.

Bakugou answers almost instantly.

Katsuki (roommate): wtv.

[writing-whump]

Sol, from the sickfic prompts, can I have Isaiah + "Can you please come home? I feel really bad…" where he's the one saying this? I wonder how bad things would have to be for him to admit needing others?

Feverish and stubborn

"Are you sure you don't want to come with me?" Matthew asked for the umpteenth time that morning.

Isaiah smiled at his insistence, internally cringing. He wanted Matthew safely gone so he could collapse in peace.

He had been feeling off since morning. Some kind of exhaustion, making him feel heavy to the bones and tired. Truly, he just needed sleep. He slept only a few hours every day, too busy and fascinated by some kind of assignment or homework or getting calls about lost pups, angry pack representative doing this or that. If he didn't get a job, that part of his life would swallow him whole.

Matthew eyed him suspiciously. "The pack is super friendly and they specialize in that human fighting thing without shadows, that you approve so much. They wouldn't mind me bringing you over."

Seline was at her parents during the weekend and Matthew had a guilty look on for leaving Isaiah alone as well, for a boxing meet between wolves. Isaiah was happy for him. Matt was finding his niche, friends through his interests. His confidence would grow from it, Isaiah was sure.

"I'm sure. I have homework to catch up to and I do not mind being alone. I have been living that way for the last 6 years, in fact."

Matthew bit his lip, scanning him one last time. "I'll text you the address in case you change your mind."

Isaiah rolled his eyes. "Shoo. Go already."

Matthew grinned sheepishly, threw his bag over his shoulder and left.

Finally.

Isaiah dropped the happy mask at once, sitting down on the couch. He just felt so tired. Huddling into the blanket where he sat, not pressed to go hide in his room or pretend to function at 8 am, he lied down right there, quickly asleep.

***

Isaiah woke up 3 hours later to violent shivers through his body. He was freaking freezing. His hands and legs were frozen solid, he was trembling under the blanket. Even his nose was stinging from the cold. Did he leave the windows open or something?

He wiggled his head towards the clock and the windows and the balcony but everything was shut. Maybe he should get under the covers, they were thicker, but the idea of leaving the little warmth he had under the blanket made him curl up into it.

He would need to make a run for it, but he needed to gather his strength first.

It was only after that ridiculous thought that it struck him he must be feverish. The only logical explanation.

He shivered some more, mentally playing the short walk to his bed for five times, before finally standing up. Blanket still around his shoulders, he wanted to dash to the bedroom, except his bones felt like someone filled them with broken glass. He felt fragile, unsteady, like he was about to bend over and collapse on his feet. Ow.

Finding his slippers, he made his way to the bathroom instead, taking the big bathrobe against the cold. He leaned against the sink, daring a peek at himself.

Yeah. He was pasty white, giant circles under his eyes like he didn't sleep for weeks instead of the last few hours, and he sweated through his shirt, although he was still shivering.

He was also feeling vaguely nauseous. Not sure if it was from not eating or from the fever or because this flu came with a stomach bonus.

How annoying.

Isaiah felt a little better in the bathrobe, so he devised a plan of not having to get up again for the next two days.

He gathered a jar filled with water, a glass, biscuits, thermometer, some pills and a basin for good measure. He didn't eat much for dinner and nothing for breakfast, he was empty, but his stomach felt tense and sore. Better not risk it.

With his supplies steady on his nightstand, he hunted down thick woolen socks and new PJs. Closing the curtains on the window to not be bothered by the sun, he changed and climbed into his bed with the bathrobe on. No harm done, he would sleep this off.

He took his temperature. 38.4. Yeah, maybe the ibuprofen wouldn't be a bad idea. He took half a biscuit, grimacing at the taste before he took the ibuprofen against the fever and dived under the blankets in relief.

He was shaking until he warmed up the air underneath the covers, but he felt proud of himself for being responsible and sweating this out like an adult.

***

Three more hours later, Isaiah was ready to be better already.

The thermometer showed 39.5 as if the ibuprofen didn't help at all and he was constantly shivering like he was exposed to the Antarctic air.

Not to mention he was starting to feel really nauseous from the fever. His stomach didn't hurt or protest another medication, so he could tell the fever was doing it. The nausea was a slimy presence at the back of his throat, around his teeth and jaw. He took deep breaths against it, shutting his eyes, trying to relax and will himself to sleep.

When he closed them though, all he could see were images of his work as the Executioner or his Father's voice admonishing other pups that wolves didn't get sick. Yeah, getting sick was a luxury. Taking a day off, being able to stay in bed, being able to be so open about it. Isaiah had all the luxury now, so he should be fine. Nothing to complain about.

Other times, his feverish brain made a list of people he would have liked to be here if he dared to call them. Sonny saw him sick from time to time and always knew what to do. Very matter of fact mature presence.

Arnie would probably come if Isaiah asked. Would bring him medicine and worry for him, talk his ear off into sleep so Isaiah wouldn't have to hear his own buzzing thoughts.

Matthew and Seline would come. Matt wouldn't know what to do, but he would be adorable in his efforts. He would probably sit beside him in bed, turn on some Netflix show on their TV in the room and wake him up with exclamations when something funny or angering happened in them.

He dreamed about Seline saying he was okay, keeping track of his temperature and calling him something nice, like darling or sweetheart. The idea made Isaiah sniffle, curling into himself under the covers. How pathetic was he, to imagine something like that?

The fever must be making him delusional. To imagine it would demand his roomates to be here, when he was a completely normal functioning adult who could handle a little fever.

It was a very rude one at that, not wanting to climb under 39.3, even after the second dose of medication.

Isaiah made himself drink some of the water, which made him reach for the basin and gag over it for a cruelly long time, but nothing came up. He curled up around it, breathing harshly as he drifted back to sleep.

***

Next time he woke up to the feeling of liquid in his throat.

Isaiah shot to towards the basin immediately, gagging over it, before a few drop of blood fell on the surface instead.

His nose was bleeding, that's what he could taste at the back of his throat.

Ah damn, he had no paper towels on the night stands. What a stupid thing to forget.

His heart was also beating really fast. Isaiah turned to lie on his back, pinching the bridge of his nose. The nausea was drowning him, his heart thumped painfully against his ribs, the only force left in his body and he was going to make a mess on his sheets with the nosebleed.

For some reason the last part made him want to cry.

He was so glad he was sick with something else but his heart episodes for a change and now the fever might initiate one for him. Or was the nosebleed from the fever?

The more he lied there, the stronger the blood was running, flowing freely down his face and throat. He felt like he was choking on it.

He heaved over the bucket at the taste again, strained over it with no relief for several minutes, face all wet and slimy from the red liquid.

Isaiah slid down from the bed, the basin and covers in his lap. The shivers doubled immediately. He hugged himself, rocking back and forth. He couldn't remember when was the last time he felt so rotten. And if he didn't calm down, he would cause himself a heart episode no less.

Feeling utterly pathetic and ashamed, he reached for his phone, dialing the number he had been craving for the whole day.

Seline picked up on the second ring. "Isaiah, hey!"

Isaiah cringed, the joy in her voice when she said his name squeezing his chest in longing. "H-hey...."

"I was just telling my mom about the theater show we were going to? If we like it, I could get them tickets and next time we could- Isaiah? Is something wrong?"

He could hear voices in the backround, a female and a male and Seline answering something back in Slovak.

"I just..." Isaiah sniffled against the blood clogging his nose, cupping his hand over it to catch some of the mess. "I'm sorry, I..."

"Wait, hold up a sec." The noise of a chair being pushed back as Seline got up and left the kitchen. "Isaiah, talk to me. What's going on? Is everything okay?"

"I'm sorry. C-can you please come home? I feel really bad..." He hated what he was asking. She was an hour away by train, enjoying her weekend with her parents and he was calling for her like a child.

"Oh sweetheart," Seline voice dropped to lowest, sweetest, softest coo. "I'm on my way, okay? Dad will take me to the station, it's 4.30 right now...that means the train at 5.15 should be doable by car...I'll be there at 6.15...Anything I can bring you? What's wrong exactly?"

Isaiah sniffed pitifully. "I don't...I- it's just the fever won't go down and I feel sick and now there is blood everywhere-"

"Blood? What do you mean blood?" She said in alarm.

"'s nothing, just my nose is bleeding for some reason."

"Okay, okay, okay. Everything is going to be fine, you hear? I'll be there as fast as I can."

***

Isaiah woke up on the floor, throat and nose clogged up with dried blood, covers and bathrobe covered in it, shivering and sweaty.

None of that mattered, because he was greeted by the nicest sight he could wish for.

Seline was crouching next to him, jacket half open, frowning in concern.

Isaiah looked at the watch. 5.30 pm. "You made it early," he croaked.

"Dad drove me all the way here. Better than the trains." Seline cupped his cheek with her hand, lifting his face towards her to study him.

"Is he still here? I should-"

"You should nothing," she interrupted sternly. "The nosebleed stopped? Can you get up on the bed?"

"No...I'll make a mess like this." He pointed at his face.

"Is that why you are on the floor? Honey, the sheets can be washed, that's not a reason for you to sleep on the carpet."

Isaiah focused in her voice. She still changed the pet names frequently, like she couldn't settle on her favourite one. He loved it.

Seline's hands on his face felt divine, even though they were way too cold. He shivered under her touch, breath hitching.

"Okay, arm up. We will take your temperature, while I get something to clean you up with, alright?" She put the thermometer under his arm, kissing him on the forehead before leaving.

Isaiah closed his eyes, shivering under the sudden heaviness of her absence.

"Okay, come on, sweetie. Back in the bed." She was really insistent on that, huh?

Seline grabbed his arm and pulled and he followed, standing up and then falling back on the bed with a moan.

"What is it?" Seline sat down next to him with a wet towel and a bunch of those soft paper towels for colds.

"Ugghh. My skin hurts."

"Your skin?"

"Yeah. It's like broken glass all over," he whined.

Seline shook her head. "Your fever is super high, I can tell all the way from here. It's okay. It will pass." She took the towel and started to clean the dried blood on his face.

Isaiah winced at the coldness, but she was so gentle, he couldn't protest.

"I got you all the good stuff. Best rehydration drink ever," she said with a small smile, taking his thermometer, scowling at it without comment, and putting it away.

"I feel nauseous. Not sure I can drink," he said tiredly, closing his eyes. It wasn't his concern anymore. She could decide what he could and couldn't do.

"Just a few spoons, okay? It will really help with the fever. There. Face all clean. It really bled a lot, huh?" Isaiah didn't dare to glance at the ruined towel, but the wet skin left in its wake was stinging with cold. The feeling of cleanness comforted him.

Seline put another, bigger towel soaked in cold water around his forehead and neck. He hissed at the touch, but she took his hand in hers. "I know, I know. But this will help, darling. Please, trust me."

He squeezed her hand back, propped up on the pillows and closed his eyes.

"Open your mouth, sweetie."

Isaiah squinted at her. She really sat there with a mug of transparent liquid in her lap and was offering him a spoon of that salty smelling water.

He sighed but obeyed, letting her spoon feed him four times, before he pressed his lips together as he waited for his stomach's reaction. It sloshed angrily inside him, a cramp making him double over.

Seline's hand was cupping him his face immediately, her lips on his forehead murmuring something into his ear.

He breathed harshly, melting against the contact, then curled up at his side. "No more."

"Okay. That's enough for now. Such a good job. You will be up and about in no time."

Seline put the mug away, patting his face, readjusting the cold towel on his forehead, before standing up.

"Sel?" He whined, afraid she would leave. "Stay? Please?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

She cluttered with some of the things on his bedside table, before switching off the lamp and climbing into the bed beside him.

He shifted closer on his side, and she pressed herself against his back, arm around his chest. He took the hand in his, curling it against his heart like a talisman.

"It's beating really fast," she said softly.

"Hmmm. I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologising?" She said in disbelief, voice going higher with emotion.

Isaiah's throat closed up. "I'm sorry I called, I-"

She lifted herself up to loom over him. "You can always call me. I'm glad you called me." Her voice suddenly grew more heated. "No, in fact, you have to call me, when you feel bad like this. How long has this been going on? Why were you alone and not telling me sooner?"

Isaiah blinked in the dark, taken aback.

"When you get better, I'm gonna kill you, you hear? You feel off or like you are coming down with something, you are supposed to tell me before you black out from a fever with a nosebleed. You tell me immediately. I don't care if I'm on the other side of Europe, I'll come."

Isaiah swallowed, eyes burning, heart somewhere in his throat. "I didn't want to be a both-"

"I forbid you from having such thoughts," she said indignantly. "You are never a bother. You matter to me, Isaiah, do you understand that? When you are hurting in secret, alone, away from me, you are hurting me. You want to let me bleed out by not telling me of the wound?"

Isaiah didn't know what to say to that, eyes wide in the dark.

"You don't have to toughen it out," she said more gently, palm on his cheek, caressing it with one finger. "Let me take care of you. It's the least you can do, when part of me is hurting there with you."

Isaiah took in a shaky breath, chest hurting from her words. It hurt, it hurt to face such proclamations, such absolute belief they were true. "You are so bossy," he said, voice wavering on a sob.

Seline pressed herself closer to him still, spooning him, tangling their legs together. "Shhhhh. Yeah. You better get used to it."

[mattybraps10]

I Can See You | Brendan Brisson x Hughes!OC

Summary: Brendan and Phoebe reflect on their relationship as Matty joins them at the house, reigniting Brendan's feelings for Phoebe.

Word Count: 1093

By: M

Parts: part one | part two | part four | part five

PART THREE:

Brendan threw the sheets into the washing machine, turning it on and wandering onto the deck to finish his beer. It’d been a while since he’d seen Phoebe, and her presence was overwhelming. 

The door opened and Phoebe sat beside him, looking out onto the water. For Brendan it felt like he’d traveled back in time to before he’d gone to college, before he’d messed up what they’d had between them. 

“You really didn’t have to give up your room for Luke’s friend, I would’ve been fine with him on the couch.” Phoebe said, breaking the comfortable silence.

“I know, I just… I feel like I should protect you. I know you can handle yourself and Matty’s a great guy and all but… I guess I’m jealous? I don’t know.” 

“It’s not your place to be jealous anymore Bren, I mean you lost me.” She said, tucking her hair behind her ear and facing Brendan.

Bren.

Phoebe hadn’t called him that since they’d been together all those years ago, butterflies swarmed in his stomach as he looked into her blue eyes.

“I know Bea, I know.” He sighed, looking down into his almost empty drink, the moment shattered.

She rested her head on his shoulder as he finished his drink. Brendan imagined their lives hadn’t changed, that Phoebe was still his. He wished they were still sneaking around once her brothers were asleep, driving to Walmart and running through the isles at midnight, oblivious to the world around them. He wished he’d kept the photos of them she’d taken on her old camera when she’d been obsessed with documenting every aspect of her life. He wished he’d never left that night, that he’d turned down Michigan and promised to stay with her forever. But he hadn’t, he’d left and here they were. 

Definitely not nothing but also not something. 

An almost, a wish and a memory.

The next morning came, Brendan having slept on Phoebe’s couch as the sheets were in the dryer. He woke up, surrounded by her. Her clothing spread along the floor, perfume wafting through the brightly painted room. When Phoebe was younger she’d taken her paint set to the walls and painted intricate murals of everything and everyone she loved. Brendan wished he could still see where they had hidden their names within a heart, a new mural having taken its place. Intricate vines surrounded a large sunflower, the faintest lines of their names still peaking through. Brendan stood up, walking towards the flower, another reminder of all he’d lost. He slowly traced his finger over the remnants of his name, a smile on his face.

“What are you doing?” Phoebe said, stepping out of the adjoining bathroom in nothing but a towel. 

Brendan turned, startled as he quickly realized her lack of clothing. Despite the pure want clouding Brendan’s mind, he resisted the urge to grab her by the waist and remove the towel. 

“I- uh- well- I was admiring this flower. It wasn’t here before.” He said, a blush radiating up his neck and onto his cheeks.

“Yeah okay Bren, sure. Now turn back around so I can get dressed.” 

He turned around resisting the urge, once again, to see her without her towel. Her beauty hadn’t been lost on him as she’d walked through the door the day before. 

Once Phoebe was dressed, the two of them headed to the kitchen to get coffee and find out the plans for the day. Since Brendan had been in Vegas, he still hadn’t acclimated to the time zone which meant he’d woken up much later than everyone else.

“Good morning sleepyhead.” Jack said as Brendan walked through the door, still clad in pajamas. 

“Here, I made you a coffee, it’s kinda cold now though…” Quinn smiled, handing him the drink.

Brendan had forgotten how great it felt to be around people who truly loved and appreciated him. Don’t get him wrong, he loved his dad, but his dad had been away a lot growing up and the Hughes’ were the closest things he had to a functioning family.

“Where’s Moosey?” Phoebe asked, sitting at a barstool and picking up the tea she’d left earlier in the day. 

“Picking up Matty, he should be back soon though.” Jack replied, taking the seat next to her. 

Just as Brendan finished his coffee, the door opened and Matty bounded down the stairs. 

“Hugheseys, Brissy, I’m hoooome!!” Matty had never been one for shy introductions as he quickly scooped Jack, Quinn, and Brendan into a hug.

“Hey buddy, it’s been a while. How’s Seattle?” Brendan asked, a genuine smile painting his face. 

“It’s been good man, rainy, but good. How ‘bout Vegas?” Matty smiled, genuinely happy to be back at the lake. 

“Good, really hot, but also fun.” Brendan laughed, as he tried to mimic what Matty had said.

“Oh, hey. You must be Phoebe, rude of me not to introduce myself. I’m Matty.” He said, offering a hand to shake as Phoebe wrapped him into a hug.

“No need for pleasantries, if Lukey likes you so do I. How was your flight?” 

Brendan tried not to acknowledge the pang of jealousy he’d felt when Phoebe had so easily offered his friend a hug. She hadn’t hugged him when she’d seen him again, and Luke liked him more than Matty! He knew it wasn’t fair, knew their relationship was different, but it still hurt. 

“It wasn’t that bad actually, I got to watch some movies I wanted to see and catch up on my sleep.” Matty said, a charming smile plastered onto his face.

Brendan frowned.

“Ooh. What movies did you see? I watched Spiderman in the car yesterday. Tobey Maguire, obviously.” Phoebe said, clearly lapping up Matty’s unwavering charm.

“Oh well obviously Maguire was the best Spider-man, but Garfield was the better Peter Parker. And don’t get me started on Holland. His Spider-man had it so easy. As for the movies I watched, I saw the new hockey romance movie, Odd Time Rush, and I also started the Elvis movie but I fell asleep like halfway through.” He smirked, looking at Phoebe.

“Didn’t peg you as a romance guy, but I guess the hockey part makes sense. All work all the time.” She said, rolling her eyes.

“What did you peg me as, huh? You just met me, there’s so much to get to know.” Matty winked, as Phoebe chuckled.

“Alright guys that’s enough. Get a room.” Brendan said, finally having enough of their banter and skulking away to Phoebe’s room.

[misc-obeyme]

I'M ALIVE (BARELY) !! Work is kicking my ass. Also, lots of things went wrong for me this morning, but they all worked out in the end ?? Like I forgot to set my alarm, had to bring my mom's phone to her job bc she forgot it, my bus ended up running late because the doors would get stuck at stops. But I woke up on time, caught the bus after taking the phone, and made it early to work because the bus forgot to take the detour? My luck is insane (thanks Mammon.)

ANYWAY, i can no longer contain my thoughts about Mammon x Solomon x Mc. I'm just imagining my mc and Solomon who are both very curious, and love messing around with potions at purgatory hall, and finding alternatives to rare ingredients. This has definitely gone wrong a bunch of times (most days without a potion incident: 4)

and I'm imagining Mammon tagging along bc he misses mc and is jealous that Sol is taking up their time, but denies all claims - "I'm assigned to protect ya, ain't I?" "From Solomon?" "W-Well, he's a shady sorcerer!"

He sits on the floor by mc's feet, and will fetch them things because he can't say no to them. But he spends so much time listening to them brainstorm, he starts learning and will chime in randomly. Mc and Sol who are stuck on what to add, Mammon drops something in there, and they're both horrified until they realize the potion is perfect now. He just has a little database in his mind of what to add to something, and rare ingredients that the two wish they could get their hands on.

Thinking about Mammon doing a favor for a witch and she tells him to pick anything in her collection since she's low on money. He was about to be angry when he saw an ingredient that they've both been complaining is rare and hard to find. He asks the witch for that and then brings it to the two. He acts all nonchalant about it, trying to brush it off. Mc tackles him, meanwhile Solomon is in awe and staring with a twinkle in his eye.

Now Mammon starts requesting trades with witches, for a lower portion of grimm. Gets ingredients he knows they dream about, because the way mc and sol will get all giddy after he presents them with his earnings makes his stomach flip (he will never admit this)

"This is missing something" Solomon

"Yeah but I can't figure out what" MC

"Have you tried *insert seemingly common ingredient that doesn't work for most things*" Mammon

"But no one uses that, it's why we're always stuck with it" MC

"Couldn't hurt to try. See, watch." Mammon.

"WAIT, MAMMON DON'T- ... IT WORKED!?" Mc/Sol

----

"MAMMON HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET THIS, IT ONLY BLOOMS ONCE EVERY 100 YEARS" mc

"Dunno, got it from a random witch. Said she didn't need it. *spent two hours haggling with said witch*"

"...am I in love?" Solomon, reevaluating life

"Eh? What are ya mumbling about? If you're gonna thank me, I want it loud and clear!"

my crack ship <3 they mean everything to me. I caved and hunted down the plushies of them on ebay too. ALSO I GOT TWO OF MY COMMISSIONS BACK AND I'M 😭 they're perfect !!! I'm so so happy with them. Literally the lock screen is beautiful bc it's me and mammon cuddling (HIS MUSCLES CC!! IM DYING) and it looks like it was taken by like asmo or something who walked in to wake us up.

i think I'm also a hopeless romantic, I'm just scared of confronting my feelings lol (you're right in that it is worth it, I just need to figure out how to be brave </3). I throw myself into romance books and fanfics. Vaguely related, thinking about coffee shop au with barista!Mammon and college student!Solomon.

OKAY SORRY IM DONE RAMBLING 😭 HAVE A GOOD DAYYYY

- ✨ anon

Wow that does sound like a crazy morning!! I'm glad it all worked out, though~ Mammon is totally watching out for you!

OKAY but all of that sounds exactly like Mammon! I mean, he's super smart, he just doesn't usually bother to apply himself to anything. So it totally makes sense that he'd just pick up things because he's spending time with MC and Solomon. And then of course he's gonna end up seeing rare ingredients and being like, okay yeah I'm taking that. That all sounds absolutely adorable~

I'm curious about whether or not Solomon and Mammon would make a pact in this situation? I mean, if it's both of them and your MC that are in the relationship, do you think they would? Do you think Solomon would move past his obsession with getting a pact with Lucifer and end up in one with Mammon instead?

I always felt like Solomon doesn't really get Mammon, you know? But that doesn't mean he can't learn. And oh man, Solomon is such a tease and Mammon is so not good at being teased lol. That idea is giving me so many entertaining images, I can't even handle it.

Anyway, I'm totally here for it! It sounds really cute~

I'm so glad you're happy with your comms!!! They sound amazing!

And don't worry, you'll figure it out. I don't know how old you are, but I suspect you have plenty of time! It's a balancing act, you know? It's important to be honest with yourself about your feelings without letting them control you. But it's easier to decide what to do about them if you know what they are. Anyway, not to get all philosophical over here lol. I think the key is to find someone you want to be brave for, you know?

AUGH I love coffee shop aus sooooooo much!!! I was very obsessed with the idea of barista!Mammon for a while, mostly because of a daily chat where he was working at a cafe and then got into a fight with customer. He's good at finances, so I think he could be pretty business minded if he wanted to be. So I was thinking about a situation where he owns his own cafe, but when the customers get rude with one of his fellow baristas, he gets into a fight with them lol. I hadn't really considered who that other barista was, but it could be MC.

Anyway, I could ramble about coffee shop aus all day because I love them aklsdlkfjdfjkl

I hope you have a lovely day/night, too!!

[jtargaryen18]

His Inheritance ~ Chapter 25

Part 25: Just Breathe

Series Masterlist

Words: 4.3k

Pairing: Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

Warnings: References to mob crime families, activities, domestic violence, and infidelity. Firearm use, explicit sex, missing persons, and deception. This is a dark fic. Please read responsibly.

Disclaimer: The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and darker themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown and tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission.

Summary: For @alexakeyloveloki. Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sunday was overcast with rain streaking the windows. Today felt calmer. And calm was all you could ask for after the last two days.

Once again, Steve was gone when you woke up. You knew he had a lot on his mind just now. There was so much to deal with.

After you showered and dressed, you headed downstairs for the kitchen. You were expecting to find Yelena’s breakfast ready for you to carry up to her.

As it was, you heard the conversation before you walked into the kitchen. When you entered the room, you found Dyson and Yelena having breakfast at the table where poker games were held. The bruising on Yelena’s face looked worse today. Dyson’s arm was still in a sling, and he looked tired. But there they both sat eating and talking.

The conversation didn’t halt when they saw you coming, and that made you happy.

“I’m glad you got a good report,” Dyson told Yelena as he took a sip of his coffee.

“Good morning,” Luca said as he motioned for you to sit with them, busy at the stove.

“What did doc have to say to you?” Yelena asked.

“Nothing good,” Dyson grumbled. “My elbow is sprained and that will take a while to heal. But he’s also on my ass about my blood pressure. Wants me to take meds for it and alter my diet. Start exercising.”

“He’s just looking out for you,” Yelena replied when Luca placed your breakfast in front of you. A fluffy omelet with fresh spinach, some fruit, and a tall glass of orange juice. “What he suggests is not so bad.”

Dyson scoffed. “I get all the exercise I need trying to keep up with you girls. And now that Nat’s here…”

You couldn’t keep the smile off your face at that thought. “We’re also probably the reason your blood pressure is high.”

“Nah.” Dyson shook his head. “There’s a lot going on. The transition. It will pass. All this food? Yeah, that might kill me.”

Luca held up a middle finger but didn’t turn away from his cut work. “Best cooking in the world and you know it. You, my friend, need to learn moderation. You eat too damn much.”

Dyson shook his head but didn’t argue.

“What did the doctor say about you?” you asked Yelena.

Your friend shrugged. “He wants me to come in and get a scan tomorrow. Make sure there are no fractures. I told him I’m fine.”

That had you and Dyson staring her down.

“You should do that,” you told her. “Just to be safe.”

“Yeah, you should,” Dyson said meaningfully. “It’s quick. The hospital is only half an hour away.”

“With everything going on at the moment,” she replied, “I’ll pass. I’m fine.”

“If you’re worried about me, don’t. Clint and Scott will be here,” you assured her. “I’ll stay with Nat while you’re gone and make it easy. Okay?”

“I’ll go with you,” Dyson told her. “See? Matter is resolved.”

“Neal will be here too,” Luca added.

Dyson didn’t miss the face you pulled at that mention.

“You sure handled Bruce for me, Yelena.” You changed the subject.

Dyson grinned. “Yeah, she did. You did good, kid.”

You made a mental note of asking Yelena what happened there later. Banner was banished, but alive. How could you be sure he wouldn’t come back to create trouble for Nat? How could she rest and recover knowing he was still out there?

“Where’s Steve?” you asked as Scott rushed in through the kitchen door.

“Upstairs with Nat and Clint,” Dyson told you. “He’s sticking around today. Meeting with a couple of potential lawyers this afternoon.”

“How’s that going?” you had to ask. Now that Bruce was out of the picture, he’d need a replacement. When you were part of a crime syndicate, you couldn’t hire just any lawyer.

“He’s got a couple of good prospects,” Dyson explained. “There’s some Barber fellow who’s local. He’s got ties to a couple of the families. There also some guy named Murdock. I don’t know much about him.”

“He’s a good guy,” Luca joined in, moving to the side so Scott could pull something from one of the cabinets. “Blind but a damn good lawyer. I knew his father.”

When Scott turned, he held a vase of beautiful wildflowers in his hands.

“What you got there?” Dyson asked him, finishing up his toast.

“These are for you.” Scott placed them in front of Yelena who froze at the gesture. “Hope you’re feeling better.”

Slowly, Yelena nodded, not taking her gaze off those flowers. “Thank you.”

It was awkward then. The kitchen went silent.

Scott sighed. “I’ll bring the groceries in.”

***

The sweet sound of Nat’s laughter reached you as you knocked at her door. When the door opened, you were greeted by the subtle notes of your husband’s cologne. Peering up at him you smiled.

“Hi, Sweetheart.” He kissed your lips before moving back to allow you in.

With a collection of pillows behind her, Nat was in the center of her bed. She still looked small, but she was smiling, and you would count that as a win. Clint was gathering up the breakfast trays, moving them off to the side as you took a seat on the side of her bed.

“How are you feeling?”

“One day at a time, right?” she told you, smiling. “How are Dyson and Yelena?”

“Great,” you said. It wasn’t strictly the truth but that’s what either of them would want you to say. “Just enjoying a quiet day.”

“That’s for damn sure,” Clint told you, coming back for Nat’s tray that was next to you and moving it off the end of her bed.

There was a folded newspaper under it. Idly, your gaze roamed over the section of the front page in front of you.

“Huh, I forgot all about my paper,” Clint mused.

There was color photo of a young woman there beneath the headline, ‘Missing Woman.’ You’d never seen her before. But something about that photograph gave you a real sense of foreboding. You grabbed it, picking it up so you could read the article in one of Boston’s top newspapers.

“Oh, my God,” Nat’s trouble tone penetrated your thoughts. “I know her.”

Her green-eyed gaze met yours then returned to the picture on the paper in your hands.

“What’s happening?” Steve wandered back over to the two of you, his attention on the same paper.

“I went to school with her sister,” Nat told him, pointing to the picture. “She works at the donut shop on Brightville.”

Gently, your husband took the paper from your hands. The expression on his face was grave. Clint now stood on the other side of the bed, laser-focused on Steve as he hurriedly read the accompanying article.

Something told you that the donut shop in question was on Steve’s turf. Did the woman’s disappearance have anything to do with the war brewing between the families? Was it just another challenge to Steve’s leadership?

Was Barnes responsible?

“Ladies, if you’ll excuse us,” Steve told the two of you, returning the paper to you. He leaned down to brush a kiss on your cheek. “I’ll see you later,” he whispered in your ear.

Clint followed him out of the room.

“I’m sorry,” you told Nat. “I hope she turns up safe.”

Nat didn’t look so convinced. “Me too. She’s a sweet girl.”

Your eyes skimmed the article now. It didn’t take you long to realize something.

“She went missing the same night Hansen was here,” you said aloud. That sense of foreboding growing in your chest.

“That’s not the part that bothers me most,” Nat said quietly. “She looks just like you.”

You shivered, feeling cold.

Poor Nat had enough to deal with. You didn’t want to add to it. Dropping the paper into your lap, you returned your attention to her.

“I’m glad you and Steve are talking.”

“Me too,” she admitted. “He says I’m never going back to Bruce. It feels like… a wonderful dream. I’m just so afraid I’m going to wake up.”

“It’s real,” you said with feeling.

“Clint believes him. And there’s so much to deal with but Steve says there’s no hurry,” she explained.

“He’s right. You can stay here as long as you need to. This is your home.”

“He says he’ll help us. Once he has a new lawyer, he said I can start divorce proceedings. Once a year has passed, I can get a divorce on the grounds of spousal desertion.”

It was too bad Nat couldn’t just be a widow. There was some reason why the bastard’s life had been spared…

“You have a lot to do with this,” she told you. “I know marrying my brother wasn’t exactly what you wanted but I’m glad you did. He’s a better man for it.”

You didn’t know about that.

“One day,” she said slowly, “I hope you’ll be glad you married him. I hope you’ll be happy.”

Your heart squeezed at her words. You wanted to be happy. There were times since you’d become Steve’s wife that you were.

But it all came at the cost of your freedom and your mind still waged that war every day. It wasn’t just a case of an arranged marriage with the two of you working through the awkward beginning of a relationship like a rom-com. There was danger here, very real danger from a world of crime you’d been born into and couldn’t seem to escape.

“We’ll see,” you told her gently. “Don’t worry about that right now. You need to rest and get better.”

***

“What happened with Banner?” you asked the minute you thought everyone else was out of earshot.

Yelena worked at loading bullets into the clip in her hand.

“Your husband allowed him to live,” she said after a moment. “He didn’t want to.”

“What?”

“Banner has been your husband’s consiglieri for a few years now, yes?”

“That’s my understanding.”

“He knows a good deal about your husband’s business along with that of the other families,” she explained.

“He can’t talk if he’s dead,” you reasoned.

Cocking a brow at you, she smiled. “That’s true. But he had a will written…”

You shook your head. “So what? If something happens to him… Seriously? Who has it? Paulina and her sister? Because we could do something about that.”

Yelena chuckled. “It’s not that easy. It’s with a member of his family. His brother is a US senator with eyes on the White House.”

“Does the senator know what his brother does for a living?” you wanted to know.

“I’m certain he does. But if that in any way posed a threat to the brother as a politician…”

You understood. It could have severe consequences. Damn.

It wasn’t fair. Banner just got to skip to another city and start over?

“Is he taking Paulina and Katerina with him?”

Yelena shook her head, laughing.

“Are you sure you feel up to this?”

Yelena picked up the handgun from the table she’d carried out. You watched as she slapped the clip into place.

“This is the third time you’ve asked me this,” Yelena pointed out, smiling. “I even agreed to go for the scan tomorrow because you wanted me to. I’ll be fine.”

Yelena handed the bigger handgun to you handle first. You carefully took it from her, just like she taught you. Careful to keep your finger off the trigger. It was strange how comfortable you’d become in handling guns over the last few weeks.

“Now, this is a bit stronger than you’re used to,” Yelena explained. “This is a 9mm. It’s heavier than your .22 and it has a stronger kick.”

It was heavy in your hand, the metal cold.

“Do you think I’m ready for something stronger?” you asked.

Yelena grinned. “You shot Hansen with Dyson’s .38, I would think so.”

“That was the first time I shot anything.” You held it up, aiming at the target. “How far away is it?”

“Twenty-five feet,” Yelena explained.

“It felt so strange,” you told her, remembering when you pointed the gun at Lloyd Hansen. “It felt even stranger when I pulled the trigger, you know?”

“That’s good,” Steve said. Neither of you had noticed him walking out into the area behind the house where Yelena had set up a makeshift practice site. “You should always remember when there’s a gun in your hand, you are wielding something that can take a life.”

Still holding the gun carefully, you turned to face your husband. “I thought you were going to be meeting with lawyers all evening.”

Steve smiled. “Not all evening.”

You let him take the gun away from you, assuming it was the end of your lesson. And it was a shame because Yelena went to great lengths to set this up, including extra men watching the area around you. It was your first time at target practice.

Steve checked the clip, the chamber before handing it back to you.

To Yelena, he said, “Move that up to about fifteen feet.”

Yelena nodded but as she took the first step, Scott came rushing past all three of you, reaching the target first. When Yelena paused, he grinned at her.

“If you want to show me where to move it,” he told her, “I’d be glad to.”

Yelena rolled her eyes but estimated where it should be moved, ten feet closer. Scott was eager to move it for her, getting it done quickly. He then came back to your group.

Steve moved behind you. “Show me your stance,” he said quietly.

You did as Yelena taught you, putting in the earplugs hanging around your neck. You distributed your weight to keep your balance, held the gun in both hands without tea-cupping it. Your arms weren’t straight, and you leaned forward in preparation.

“Good.” Steve was close behind you. “Now, take a shot.”

“Did you move the target for a reason?” you asked without moving.

“I did,” he said. “It’s how my father taught me.”

It wasn’t the answer you expected. It was so much better.

You pulled the trigger, the recoil stronger than your .22 but not as much as Dyson’s gun. You hit the outermost ring on the paper target Yelena taped up on the stand she’d put together. Your second shot hit a couple inches closer to the middle. The third missed the target entirely.

“Hold up,” Steve told you, placing a careful hand on your shoulder. “Pay attention to your breathing.”

“My breathing?”

Steve’s body moved close behind yours, his chest pressed to your back. He took the gun from your hands, aiming it with just his right. His lips were at your ear.

“Take a deep breath,” he whispered, making you shiver.

You did as he asked, breathing in with him.

“Now, exhale,” he instructed.

You exhaled with him. In the same beat, Steve pulled the trigger. The shot hit just outside the innermost ring.

“Take a deep breath,” he said again. You did. “And exhale.”

Again, just after you started the exhale, he took a shot. The second one was dead center.

Steve handled the gun so comfortably, with such ease. Would you ever be able to do that?

Handing it back to you, Steve stayed close behind you.

“Your turn,” he whispered. “Take a deep breath.” You did. “And exhale.”

As you exhaled, you squeezed the trigger. The shot hit just outside the innermost ring, pushing your excitement higher.

“Again,” Steve ordered.

Keeping your eyes on the target, you took a deep breath. You pulled the trigger on the exhale. This time your shot hit inside the innermost circle.

“Give me one more,” he whispered.

You’d heard that before. But when he said it to you in private, he meant something different entirely.

You took a deep breath. On the exhale you took another shot. It wasn’t dead center, but it was close.

“You’re getting it,” Steve sounded encouraging.

A quick glance at Yelena showed her smiling as she watched, standing next to Scott. She looked proud.

“Finish the clip,” Steve instructed. “Then you’re going to reload.”

***

At the end of dinner, Steve had a phone call to take, and he dashed off to his study.

You headed up to your bedroom, your arms, and shoulders sore from your target practice. You were still trying to get your mind around the fact that your husband didn’t put an end to your learning to fire a gun. No, he actually helped you. Was it because you shot Hansen? Or was he just humoring you?

You’d danced earlier too. Stretching your back, you decided a soak in the whirlpool tub was required.

Filling up the tub, you headed back into the bedroom, sitting on the end of the bed to pull off your shoes. Standing, you peeled off your jeans and left them there in the floor. You peeled off your sweater, wincing at the pull in your muscles from the movements.

Reaching behind you, you unhooked your bra just as you reached the tub. Dropping it to the floor, you turned to the small closet in the bathroom. Some Epsom salts would be just the thing for your bath. You added some to the water, started the jets, and sighed happily.

You’d just hooked your thumbs in your panties on each side when his deep voice cut the quiet of the bathroom.

“Slowly.”

You shivered, feeling some of that ache and fatigue fading as you smiled at him over your shoulder. You took them off slowly, alright. You teased him with the movements, bending over as you did until the garment pooled around your ankles.

You danced out of them, putting on a show for him as you climbed into the tub.

When Steve peeled off his deep red sweater, just as you did moments ago, you were pretty sure you didn’t look that good doing it. Toeing off his shoes, he approached the tub. You got an eyeful of all those muscles, the intricate web of tattoos stretched over them.

His gaze roamed over you too. The bubbling water did little to hide any of you and your breasts were just above the water.

When his hands went for the front of his jeans, you held up a hand. “What do you think you’re doing?” you asked playfully. “This is my bath.”

There was mischief in those blue eyes and his smile was wicked. He paused, but then he pulled open those jeans, pushing them down along with the black boxers beneath. His cock bobbed with his movements, red and ready.

“Are you ever going to take no for an answer?” you shot at him as he climbed into the tub with you, sitting next to you in the water.

Steve didn’t miss your meaning.

“Maybe I earned that,” he told you. “Maybe if I did a better job of teaching you, seducing you, your answer would be yes.”

“I was surprised that you came out to help me with target practice,” you admitted.

“I could have shut it down,” he said. “But that wouldn’t have stopped you, I know… So who can’t take no for an answer?”

You were about to argue that point when he grabbed you by your hips. Steve lifted you, placing you on his lap in the water. Bracing his feet, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you back to rest against him, your back to his chest.

It felt wonderful.

Okay, you’d play along.

Steve’s lips chained kisses over your neck and shoulders, the soft whisper of his beard only made it more enticing. His hands slid all over you, teasing your breasts until your nipples tightened, sliding down your belly to explore between your thighs.

“You already taught me today,” you managed, loving the attention he was lavishing on you.

His lips came up to your ear. “How about something else?” he whispered.

“Something new?” you whispered.

“Not entirely,” he said, nudging his heated length up against your ass. “You seemed to like riding me.”

Oh, you had.

“Want to try it another way?”

Steve sat with you in one corner of the enormous tub. Taking each of your hands, he guided you to grab the edge of the tub on either side. He shifted under you, positioning himself. When his hands returned to your hips, he carefully guided you down, filling you with his cock.

It took your breath away and you grip tightened on the edges of the tub as you slid all the way down and he stretched you. His groan behind you was an indecent sound. Holding you there, he gave you time to adjust there in the warm, bubbling water.

When you started moving on him, his hands stayed on you. You did love being able to move at your own pace, to shift until you worked him against all the spaces inside you that drove you wild. You moved slowly at first, up and down, his hands keeping you steady but not taking over yet.

“Breathe.” His voice was low. He nipped at your shoulder with his teeth.

He felt so good, your walls clenching around him as you rode him. The delicate ache at your clit had you shifting so you could move one of your hands to do something about that. But no sooner had you lifted that hand, Steve slapped your ass hard.

“Didn’t say you could let go,” he said roughly.

“But Steve…” You put your hand back.

“What do you need?” He slapped your ass again when you paused. “Keep moving.”

You did, feeling pressure building within you. You were getting closer, but you needed more…

“What does my princess need?” Steve purred as you kept sliding up and down on him, harder now. “Tell me and I’ll give it to you.”

“Need to come,” you pleaded, working yourself on him faster. Holding on with your hands gripping the tub behind you.

“What else?” Steve sounded a little winded himself now. “Tell me…”

You sped up, trying to reach release without that added stimulation. But his hands on your hips slowed you down and he was stronger than you.

The whining sound you made sounded pitiful to your own ears. “I’m close… please…”

“What do you need?” he demanded.

“To come.”

“I’ll stop,” he warned you.

Tears stung the backs of your eyes. Your pussy was clamped around him. Your legs were shaking, and you were pushing off from your toes. Every inch of you was tight, on edge.

“Touch me.” You were desperate. “Please.”

One of his hands slid around to cup you as he allowed you to move freely again, his fingers zeroing in on that delicate target. Oh God, he knew what he was doing too. Using just the right amount of pressure, he worked that button as you moved frantically, fighting to get off.

When you finally went over that edge, you cried out. Truly porno-worthy sounds. Release shook you, tore you apart. But when those spasms faded, you were slumped back against your husband, his arms around you and his breath as ragged as yours.

His cock was still iron-hard inside you, jerking as if to bring that to your attention.

“Come here,” he whispered, pulling himself free of you and urging you to turn and face him. When your knees were situated on either side of him, he impaled you again. This time, his arms were around you, holding you.

Your inner walls were still quivering around him, and you still fought to breathe but it felt… heavenly. You moved together, the water bubbling and sloshing with your motions. Steve stole kisses from your lips, teasing your nipples with his tongue.

“You look so gorgeous when you come for me,” he panted against your skin. “So beautiful.”

Your fingers gripped in his hair, and you rode him as much as he was pressing up into you. It was an erotic dance but one you couldn’t hold long. You were already back on the edge, your body tightening and bracing for the storm.

Your husband was close too. You knew when his hands again grabbed your hips, urging you to move faster on him, using his strength to help you. Watching those heavily muscled arms work while his lips teased your breasts pushed you over, had you wailing as the next wave overtook you.

Steve’s guttural cries blended with yours as you shook together, holding each other in the water. When the earth stopped moving, you held onto him, your head on his shoulder. Your hearts beat together.

Steve’s fingers traced trails over you skin, making you shiver.

“You’re a good shot,” he said finally. “You take it seriously.”

Lifting your head finally, you glanced into his eyes. “Does this mean I can continue learning to use a gun?”

His gaze on you was speculative but finally he nodded. “I don’t like that you couldn’t tell me. I found out about it when you shot Hansen… I don’t want our relationship to be like that. I want you to feel safe in telling me anything.”

You swallowed hard.

Should you tell him about your “manicure appointment?” The fact that Neal told Steve the woman looked familiar put the fear of God in you. Would he understand why you agreed to have Yelena bring a nurse here to give you a contraceptive shot?

Or would he be furious? Would he fire Yelena?

Taking a deep breath, you decided against saying anything. Instead, you nodded, kissing him softly. When that kiss ended, Steve looked content. Happy.

It was a decision you’d end up regretting.

@valsworldofcreativity

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[whackk-kermitt]

Genre: Daryl Dixon Headcanons Pt. 3

Warnings: None

Pronouns: GN

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

You were gone.

It wasn't like before when he could suck it up and keep going.

He loved you and you were gone.

He pulled the lace from the shoe he found and wrapped it around his wrist.

It's all he had of yours.

It's all he had left to hang on too.

A fucking shoelace.

He had nobody but Beth to vent too.

But he didn't.

But instead, he bottled it up until he snapped and took everything out on her.

He hated himself for not keeping a closer eye on you. He hated himself for letting you go.

Every day he woke up aching, with no motivation to keep going, but he did and he didn't know why.

Beth kept saying that maybe everyone else made it out too, like they got lucky too.

She didn't believe it but if it got him off his ass and kept them alive she’d say it every day until she did.

Part of him wished he’d found a ring for you like Glenn did for Maggie.

At least then it would mean Beth would be able to understand what he lost.

She'd see what he was going through, not really.

Yeah, she lost people too, but she didn't lose you.

You had been his everything, his reason to get up, his reason to push forward.

Everything he did it was for you or with you.

It was killing him not knowing.

But it was also the not knowing that kept him going.

No matter how hard it was, a part of him still had hope that you were out there, looking for him.

He couldn't give up if you were waiting for him.

It was when he lost beth that put him to his knees.

He couldn't protect you, he couldn't protect beth.

What the hell was he good for?

Nothing. Absolutely fuck all.

He felt so weak, imagining the things you'd say to him now.

“You've got this, Daryl.”

“Just a little further, baby.”

“I love you too, Daryl Dixon.”

Oh what he’d give to hear you say you loved him.

Even if he knew it would be the last time, he needed to hear you tell him that right now.

He was so alone, he needed you to hold him and tell him “I love you.”

He needed to cry on your shoulder and hold you like you never left.

But you weren't gonna come back, his hope was slipping and he knew the chances of finding you alive.

After giving up on his chase on whoever stole beth, he ended up with some assholes.

They had screwed up morals and questionable intentions but he was losing his mind being all alone.

Being with these people was hell, there was no sense of community or friendship even.

These men were out for themselves and would turn on each other in a heart beat if they needed to.

But Daryl was weak, he knew that but he needed someone to have his back while he regrouped.

This led to him finding Rick, Carl, and Michonne.

Finding Rick was the light he needed. He sat there beside himself after they killed the men he'd been traveling with.

“I lost them, Rick.”

Rick knew what that felt like, he'd lost his wife, and he'd lost Judith. He knew the emptiness in you cheat when you lose someone so close.

He comforted Daryk as best he could.

Daryl cried with him, which was new.

He hadn't ever cried in front of anyone but you.

Well, that one time in front of Beth.

But he needed to, finally, he finally let his walls down and let Rick see his pain.

Being able to open up to his friend in a much deeper way broke the damn.

He let himself cry for the first time in his life.

And the tears just kept coming.

He cried every night they spent on the road until they found their way to someplace called Terminus.

He cried when he saw the ones he'd thought he lost.

He cried when you were not with them.

He cried when he found himself on his knees, hands tied and mouth gagged.

Everyone else made it.

So you had to have made it!

You were too stubborn to go down.

And here he was about to die without getting to hear you say I love you one last time.

It had only been maybe a week or two but it felt like a year.

He kept imagining your voice. What it sounded like.

How sweet and soft it turned when you two were alone.

Your face, how beautiful you were.

How you'd smile at him, every time you saw him, you'd just smile.

He’d watch the night sky through your eyes.

H loved you so much and he needed to see you again.

He needed to.

So when the chance came to escape he fought like hell.

He took so many lives without blinking because them dying meant he'd get out.

He’d maybe get to see you again.

It was when they were free, gathered up, discussing what had happened that he turned to see Carol.

He ran to his best friend he hadn't gotten to say goodbye to when she was made to leave.

He held her and she just smiled at him.

The group followed her to a small cabin.

Out came Tyreese, he held Judith.

He watched happily as Rick reunited with his baby girl.

He was happy for his friend yes, but part of him thought it was unfair.

Until you came out.

He’d never run so fast in his life.

Not even to save his life.

You cried and screamed holding onto him like he'd leave if you let go.

Daryl thought you'd break his ribs if you held any tighter.

But he didn't mind, cause it just meant you missed him just as much.

“I love you, Daryl Dixon. Oh my God, I love you so much. Don't scare me like that ever again.”

“I love you too.” He smiled.

And he was home again.

Not proofread

•Kermitt's Masterlist•

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

Do you have any works or links to other works that are related to mobility issues? Bc tbh it's one of my fave tropes out there, especially coupled with waddling and heavy, labored breathing 🥵🥵🥵

Also for your consideration: Bucky is gaining weight at a good steady pace, but Steve is always just ahead of the curve (multiple curves, and big ones, if you know what I mean), always ready with new clothes and more reinforced furniture. So he and Bucky don't really even notice much, how quickly Bucky is gaining, nor how much

Until one day he wakes up and gets ready for his day of doing nothing, only for him and Steve to have to go to the store. Which is fine, in fact it's kind of hot, seeing all the things they buy and knowing all of it will be gone within a week, two at best. But when he starts the long trek from their apartment to the car, Bucky notices how awkward moving is. It must be bc he just woke up tho and everything is still waking up and settling, right? Yeah, exactly

But then they get to the store (after struggling to squeeze Bucky's fatass into the car) and he finds walking even harder than it was earlier. He's never needed a scooter before, and he and Steve both drew that line when they started this, that he wouldn't get to the point where he needed one, but, well... He tries to tough it out but eventually he has to go back for a scooter, waddling heavily, moving his legs a conscious effort for the first time in his life

He and Steve aren't expecting how hard it is for him, nor are they expecting how hot it is. When they get home, Bucky gets settled on the couch as he usually does, and Steve tries to broach the topic gently about easing off, maybe focusing on weight training to help with mobility, but Bucky interrupts him and demands Steve stuff him full. That was the hottest thing that's ever happened to him, and he wants more. He wants to notice that struggle when he gets up every morning, wants to feel his body struggle more and more each day under the weight of his weak will and gluttonous nature

It doesn't take much for Steve to agree and start stuffing him. By this time the following month, Bucky has an even harder time getting around as he practices walking around the apartment for the first time in weeks. He's breathing so heavy and leaning against walls that for a moment Steve is actually concerned, but then Bucky moans and says between heaving breaths "this... Is so... hot... I want more... Stevie... Please..."

(half a year later and Bucky is close to being immobile, if not there already)

Sorry this has been sitting for so long, I promise I didn't forget about your ask 🫣

Okay, let's start with those recommendations for mobility issues and/or immobility...

First, @achubbydumpling has a wonderful list of their own recommendations on this very topic. Find it here.

Chunky secret service agent Steve has problems moving around when stuffed

Buddha shaped Bucky

Pre-serum Steve wider than he's tall

Pre-serum Steve is getting taken care of

Steve getting his belly fat fucked

A huge Bucky that's immobile

Werewolf Steve gets very bloated until he can't move

Puppy Steve gets too bloated to move

Stucky ft. Stuckage

Bucky's rapid weight gain curse

Bucky being humiliated for getting so big

Bucky gains weight on a cruise

I think those are all the drabbles that I've written that involve immobility or mobility issues! However, you can also look through my blog under the "immobility" tag to find other people's writing/maybe some of my own that I forgot accidentally.

Also, I don't write a lot about heavy breathing (mostly because I don't think about it too often lol), but you're so right 😮‍💨😵‍💫😵‍💫 it's so hot!

As for that idea you left me... 🥵

Okay, first off, I love the idea of them deciding, yes, this is what we want to do. This is the life we want to have, so we're going to prepare for it. All the furniture will be reinforced, all of Bucky's clothes will be sized up, etc. It's all ready to go. Literally building a life they can grow into (Bucky growing literally, Steve not-so-literally) 🥴

So, yeah, they just enjoy life as normal, without noticing too much. Bucky is gaining, but there's no rush. They're just having fun. Taking pleasure in the slow move toward total gluttony and the most hedonistic lifestyle possible. Other than the exception of immobility. They'll stop when they get there 👀 

So. They don't notice all those changes. That is, until they have to do something out of the ordinary. It sneaks up on them. All the weight Bucky has piled on. 

I imagine Bucky doesn't leave the house a lot, he never did before, and he definitely doesn't leave the house all that much once he's intentionally gaining. Why waste all those calories moving so much, y’know? 

Also… you're totally right. It is hot to see how much Bucky is going to plow through within the next week or two. The cashier at the checkout even cracks a joke about how they must be stocking up for this month (and maybe the next, too), huh? 

That sends a shiver down Steve's and Bucky's spines… Yeah, haha, the whole month 😅😮‍💨 they definitely won't be back next week for more food. No… no way. 

I love the idea of the struggle the whole way! The slow snowball of becoming more and more aware all the way from the apartment to the store and back. I really do. 

However, also CONSIDER:

Bucky doesn't notice how hard - and even awkward - it is to move his fattened body while in the store. How could he? He is too excited to go with Steve and get to pick out everything he wanted in whatever quantities he wanted. He likes what Steve buys, of course, but seeing all the options is fun, too. 

Plus, they say never to go shopping hungry, but, well, Bucky is always hungry. 

So, Bucky is distracted, not paying attention to his own body, because he's occupied in the store munching on a few snacks they're gonna buy anyway and tiding himself over until dinner which is really just an endless number of plates going down Bucky's throat until they run out of food or until Bucky finally calls "uncle" and admits to being too full to continue. Impossibly bloated under his thick layer of fat.

So, with the distractions, it's not until they're out of the store, carting their groceries to the car that Bucky realizes how he feels. 

His body. 

He's-

Oh. 

He's heavy. 

He's lumbering. 

His, uh, everything is jiggling. 

He's sweating. Has he been sweating the entire time? 

He's breathing hard. How was he eating and breathing at the same time in the store when he's having a hard time just walking?

And, God, has it felt like this the entire time, and he was just too consumed by the snacks he was stuffing down, by the food he was eagerly grabbing and piling in the cart? 

Oof, is the car really that far from the front of the store? 

Maybe he… maybe he needs to sit here, on the bench at the front of the store, to catch his breath while Steve gets the car and brings it around. 

Bucky plops his wide, plush ass down on the bench, panting, and looking up at Steve with begging eyes. (He doesn't know it, but there are crumbs on his sweet, round face from eating so passionately in public - he just can't help it.) 

Steve teases him, patting his massive tummy where it now rounds out hugely in his lap, "I didn't think you ate that many snacks! They're really weighing you down, though, huh?" 

Even just the gentle, semi-public appropriate tap tap makes Bucky's belly wobble. Not just his belly, though. Bucky can feel it jiggle his love handles around his fat waist and chubby back as well as he can feel it in his puffy tits and wide, blubbery thighs. 

Fuck, he's fat. 

"It's… not… just… the… snacks…" Bucky pants around his fat tummy. Because it isn't. He's so heavy. Not from eating. He's still starving. He could eat so much more and weigh himself down so much more. He's fat. He's accumulated so much weight that he's having a hard time moving. He never thought he would get here. It's. It's so hot, though.  

"Mmm," Steve hums, tilting his head to the side and evaluating the situation. Steve's biceps flex as he grips the handle of the piled-up shopping cart tighter. "No, it's not just those snacks," he licks his lips, eyes locked onto Bucky as he lowers his voice, "a couple of snacks wouldn't make you blow up like a Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade balloon." 

Bucky feels himself turn redder. Not a result of excursion. It's just arousal. 

Steve peers around, making sure there's no one within earshot before he says, low and growling, "I'll go get the car then, fatass. You sit here and try to catch your breath." He winks, "I don't think you'll be able to, not with this in the way," Steve grabs his belly hard and heaves it up and down hard enough that Bucky can do nothing but grab the heavy rolls around his sides and groan. It feels good, but it also makes him burp. He might not be full, but his stomach is huge at this point. Not being full doesn't mean there isn't a lot of stuff inside him. 

(Now, back to your idea with some modifications because I love immobility so much I couldn't resist 👀)

ALL OF THAT!

YES. 

The issues with just getting Bucky into the car… waddling out of the apartment and to the parking lot. It takes them three or four times longer to leave than Steve leaving when he's by himself. 

There are rest breaks.

There are slower, heavier, almost waddling steps. Then, they have to wedge Bucky into the car. (At that point they find out that it's a damn good thing Steve bought that seat belt extender months and months ago because there's no way in hell the belt would reach around Bucky's girth otherwise.) Bucky makes Steve shut the door for him, making a show out of sucking in and holding his belly out of the way - he's not so fat that he needs to do all that, not yet, but the action of squishing his blubber in just to fit leaves them both breathless. 

When they actually get to the shop… Bucky has to rock himself again and again to get enough momentum to make it up. Steve has to help. The car rocks under Bucky's heft. He's so heavy he might as well be multiple people getting out of the car at once - the car's poor suspension and chassis.

T h e n 

Bucky's steps are even more shuffling between the car and store than they were between the apartment and car. Bucky's lungs are having more trouble now. He's panting. He's holding hands with Steve, but quickly Steve has to hold him by the elbow, steadying his slow, rocking waddle that undoes Steve as much as a strip tease would - his boy is big. 

They've already decided by the time they get to the doors of the store that Bucky is gonna need a scooter. (I enjoy the denial element you added but I also really like the idea that there's no fucking way they can not. Bucky's just too damn big. 😮‍💨) Bucky wonders out loud about weight limits on them and Steve jams a finger into his plush side, telling him there's no way he's that fat… not yet. 

Maybe eventually. Because they can't stop.

Bucky doesn't want to stop.

Steve doesn't want to stop. 

Bucky enjoys the scooter an embarrassing amount. It's so easy compared to walking. He doesn't have to feel his thighs rubbing together constantly, legs pouring into one another heavily. He doesn't have to feel his arms rubbing against the stacked up rolls on his sides. He doesn't have to feel the bottom of his belly hit his thighs with every step, thick, jiggly, heavy. Well, he can feel all of his body still. But there's not as much friction. And it's easier on his joints. He can catch his breath. He really likes the scooter. 

Steve really likes seeing him in the scooter. He looks so big. His ass fills the seat. His belly dominates his lap - spilling over his thighs with his tits crowning that huge amount of flab.

They can hardly keep their hands to themselves through the store 🥴🥴🥴

The ride home is dangerous, more so than it needs to be, all because Steve doesn't want to tear his eyes away from his big, big boyfriend. He doesn't want to take his hand away from where he's placed it… squished between Bucky's soft, fat thigh and the overhang of his massive tummy. He's so soft. So heavy. And so hot. 

Literally. He's hot as a fire with all his insulatiom, and he's so hot because they're both perverts 😮‍💨😮‍💨.

Steve is hard the whole way home. Actually, he's throbbing. But. He can be responsible. He can talk to Bucky like an adult. He can ask if Bucky is alright - that was really intense, and they didn't plan to ever go so far, so is… is this what he wants? Does he want to slow down? Does he need to slow down? Does he want to lose any weight? 

Bucky shuts him the. fuck. up. 

Well, first, his gut does it for him.  

Bucky's gut growls. 

Steve has just let go of him, letting him drop back down onto the reinforced sofa (which he might break otherwise because, as is, the slats creeeeak under all that weight). It took twice as long to get back into the apartment. Steve "helped" a lot more this time. Groping Bucky and whispering in his ear, practically kissing and breathing down his neck, as he shuffled inside. So, now, Bucky is lying back on the sofa. Even reclined, head pointed toward the ceiling, Bucky's double chin is thick and puffy. Even reclined his belly bulges out in front of him. Round. And growling. Loud and angry. Over the sound of his heaving breaths. 

Bucky moans in complaint. His fat fingers stretch out in front of his ballooned body, wiggling his digits along with the rest of his arms (and his bingo wings 😳) as he whines, "foood." 

Steve twitches uncontrollably. Oh, God. He can't - he can't possibly be about to beg for more food, right? He can't be that greedy. Right?!

"I… I don't… want… want to stop. I don't… don't wanna stop. I want, ah, I want food. I want you to feed m-me," Bucky swallows, moaning the rest of his greedy, breathless words, "this… is so… hot… I want more… Stevie… please."

Steve can't scurry back to the kitchen fast enough. He's breathing hard now, too. 

And when he realizes that the groceries are all still in the car, he groans in fucking frustration. He is going to fucking rush through bringing everything in, sorting it, and making something for Bucky to eat. First, though, they'll plow through the snacks. Pre-packaged things Bucky can eat now before his belly starts howling in hunger. Then, Steve will have real food ready for Bucky. He's going to feed Bucky that food. He's going to keep going when Bucky's heavy, thick arms get tired of shoveling food into his mouth. He's going to keep going until it's all gone. Then he's going to get more food and keep going. He's going to give Bucky more. He's going to blow him up for real now. He's never going to let Bucky get off the couch again if he doesn't want to. He doesn't need to walk. He doesn't need to do anything but eat and feel packed full - more food and fullness than man, stretched around what he's gorged himself on. He's going to feed him until his hips brush up against each side of the sofa. As wide as it is long. Meant for three or four people. But. Just Bucky. Fat, fat Bucky. So large that he can't heave himself up over the huge, heavy boulder of his gut. Endlessly soft because his stuffed, hard belly is entirely hidden under impossibly thick blubber. A kept glutton.

[dixonlvr-online]

Dear diary

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x F!Reader

Warnings: Swear words

Genre: Fluff

Challenge: Note to self: don't get kidnapped / Dear Diary @flufftober / "I know what this looks like."

Dear Diary,

Beth told me it’s important to keep track of our lives now because it’ll be history for the future. Now that things have settled here (and I’ve gotten a little bored, to be honest), I think I’ll follow her example and write things down.

Presently, I’m guessing it’s been about a year and a half since the world ended. The world as we knew it, that is. It’s hard to remember my life before. It’s like I woke up when everything shut down. I feel stronger now, more capable.

Life is simpler. No technology to distract us, unreasonable bosses at work, or tedious, meaningless tasks that were expected of us. It’s all about survival now, building from scratch. I help Rick in the garden some days. Farmer life suits him. I’m happy to see him content after everything he’s gone through.

Other days, I’m on the fenceline killing walkers. Or in the guard tower killing time. Or helping Carol prepare meals for everyone. The best days, my favorite days, are when I get to leave the prison. Going on runs to pick up supplies (Note for history: medicine, non-perishable food, and mechanical tools have become priority. Clothes, hygiene products, and weapons are also great finds.), scouting the area for signs of other groups or threats, and hunting with Daryl.

Hunting mornings are the best mornings. We leave early, because Daryl says that’s the best time to start. It’s quieter, easier to hear things. I love early mornings at the prison. Sneaking past everyone sleeping in their cells, quietly pouring myself a cup of coffee in the kitchen, feeling the cold air hit me when I step outside.

And yeah, it’s nice to have Daryl to myself. We had a rough start, the two of us. Back at the quarry, I assumed he’d run off when he couldn’t find Merle. He was always so rough with us, argumentative over little things. I’ll admit, after our first conversation ended badly, I didn’t really try to reach out again.

At the farm, though, I was captured. Seeing him search for Sophia day after day, be Rick’s right-hand when things with Shane got weird, and just be there for us, well…I couldn’t help but talk to him more.

Thank God he came to his senses and didn’t leave with Merle forever. Nights in the guard tower would’ve been so lonely without him. And I feel so at ease with him, so free. I guess that’s why I love early mornings so much. 

We’re going on a hunt tomorrow! Daryl told me “not to wear my high heels” because I was scaring the animals. For the record: I’m wearing boots, like everyone else. Apparently my footsteps are loud, though. Not sure why he lets me come with him, honestly. He definitely doesn’t need my help. I think my jokes are pretty solid, though (I’ve made him laugh multiple times and every time it felt like I’d won first prize at the spelling bee).

Okay, this got longer than I expected. I guess I didn’t give you much information for the history books, but it’s a start. This is my diary, after all. I’ll write about whatever I damn please! I’ll try not to talk about Daryl so much next time, ha. 

Until next time,

Y/N

–

Dear Diary,

So…it’s been a while. Things got crazy there for a minute, so you’ll understand why I haven’t been writing. This is a new notebook, too. The old one got left behind at the prison. I can barely remember what I wrote in it, to be honest. Probably my pining rants about Daryl.

Speaking of, we’re together now! Exciting, right? I don’t know. It feels like I’ve known him forever, and like we were together a long time before we were “together.” Now that we’re settled in Alexandria, things are different. It’s almost like we’re allowed to put labels on things, to tell people how we feel about them. It’s expected in a way.

He asked me to live with him, in the basement of the house we share with some others. I was definitely surprised when he asked me, not because we hadn’t shared a living space before, but because…well…he asked me. He was all shy about it, too. It was adorable.

Obviously I said yes. Living together, it’s easy. We already move as one, like extensions of each other, so the dynamic is good. The close proximity is what opened up the rest of it.

Our second week here, he kissed me. God, it was probably the best moment of my life. I couldn’t stop smiling for days after. Carol and Rosita teased me about it, which was embarrassing, but whatever. Then we kissed again, and again, and again, and every day since.

I’d give anything for it to be like this forever. Everyone looks so happy. Maybe it’s too good to be true, it probably is, but I want to believe we can hold onto this. Rick’s been scheming, Daryl told me, but hopefully it doesn’t mess things up too badly. We’ll make the changes we need to make and I’ll stand beside them through it all. We’re family. 

Okay, I’m sure this update was much better than anything I wrote at the prison. My chest hurts with how light I feel. Here’s to more days like this! History, I hope this is noted as the beginning.

Love,

Y/N

–

Dear Diary,

It feels strange writing those words at this age. Like I’m a teenage girl again, stuck in my room and hating the world. I’m not that girl. I don’t even remember being that girl. Life feels so right today. The pieces fell into place.

Today, I’m a mother. I’m a wife. I’m a leader in my community. I’m a friend. I’m a survivor.

Alexandria is as beautiful as ever, moreso now with all its scars and memories. Man, we’ve gone through some shit. There’s no sugar coating it. The building I’m in right now was half burned down at one point. But we rebuilt it with our bare hands, everyone helping their neighbors without hesitation.

Daryl is stronger than ever. I’m in awe of him every day. We’ve had our rough patches, for sure, but we always pulled through. I couldn’t imagine walking away from him for good, so of course we always came back together.

Watching him as a father has only made me fall in love harder. His little girl is his entire world. The way he softens around her, laughs with her, comforts her. I could be a fly on the wall of their relationship for the rest of my life. 

Also, Daryl brought a dog home. How could I not be in love?

I guess my point is, I’m happy. Despite it all. Because of it all. I know I’m luckier than most. Michonne losing Rick was one of the hardest things to watch, not just because I lost a friend, but because I lost two friends for a while. I hope, with time, she’s able to regain the joy she had before. Judith and RJ are helping with that. I’m trying to.

Gabriel and Rosita are an interesting development. Not an unwelcome one, God knows they both deserve happiness, but yeah, definitely a little surprising. Even Daryl was asking me about it the other day and he hates gossip.

When we first got here, I wished for things to always be as good as they were then. Looking back, things weren’t as good as I thought they were. We lost a lot of things that year. Lots of people. One day, I’ll write it all down here, “for history” as Beth would say.

For now, I’m going to enjoy the peace while it lasts. Whatever comes next, I know we’ll get through it. We always do.

Yours truly,

Y/N

[littlemissheavenonearth]

The Dancer and the Rockstar Pt 4 {Joe Elliott x Reader}

Sorry for making y’all wait for part 4. Here it is now! I hope you like it!

Y/N woke up at around 8 in the morning, the boys seemed to be asleep. Joe is really pretty when he is sleeping, Did I say that out loud?

She went into the main cabin and tried to find something to eat in the fridge. She found some toast and a little container of butter. This was her favorite breakfast, Tahlia made it for her all the time. 

While spreading the butter on the toast, she felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her waist. 

“Good morning, my love,” Said the all too familiar voice of Joe Elliott, as he rested his head on her shoulder. 

“Good morning, Joey,” She whispered to him, “Want some toast?”

“I’d love some toast,” She nodded and handed a slice to him. They both sat at the table and ate in silence. 

“I’m excited for the rest of the tour, now that I'm with you, I will surely enjoy it a lot more,” Joe grinned. That stupid smile, the stupid adorable smile. She couldn’t deny that she was developing a crush on her bestfriend. God, I love him. 

“I’m excited too,” The girl smiled. It came out a little more high-pitched than she had hoped. 

“You ok?” He asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine…” She trailed off, which didn’t make it anymore convincing. 

“Good morning,” Said a sleepy Steve with a light red almost pink robe on and dark red slippers.

“Mornin’” Joe and Y/N respond at the same time. Joe sat on the couch as the dancer cleaned the dish that once had toast on it. She hummed a little bit of “High N’ Dry (Saturday Night)”. 

“Saturday Night,” She hummed, “High…”

“Saturday Night, high n’ dry….” Joe sang with her. 

“You two sound good together,” Steve smiled and sipped on his tea. 

“Yeah, you do,” Sav said as he walked out into the main cabin. 

“Thanks guys,” The girl smiled and went to sit next to Joe on the couch, “So, where is the next show?” 

“We are leaving to go to London  for the show tonight, so we are on our way over there now.” Sav responded and Y/N looked out the window. She loved London, even though she had only been once before her mother died. 

“I haven’t been in years,” She whispered. Suddenly, all of these memories rushed back to her and she sighed, “I had gone with my family and we had good times,”

“Wait,” Joe started, now realizing that he hadn’t seen Y/N’s mother or father when they went to the apartment, “Where are your parents?” 

“Oh, you don’t know,” The girl looked down, “Mother died a few years ago and father didn’t want to deal with me alone, so he left.” 

Joe went to hug his bestfriend, her mom was a wonderful person. He loved her and hearing this news felt like he was stabbed in the heart. Joe began to cry, he had never cried in front of the boys, but he did not care. Y/N also began to cry, she loved her mother. She was a very kind woman, she loved to bake and take care of animals, yeah, Y/N lived with 3 dogs and 4 cats. 

“Joey, it’ll be ok, she’s still with us, in here.” The girl pointed to her heart, Joe nodded as the tears he cried began to decrease. 

“I know, it’s just, I didn’t get to say a proper goodbye to her,” Joe stated.

A 13 year old Y/N and her father rushed to the hospital to see her mother. She was in the hospital because she had cancer. Y/N almost refused to go to the hospital knowing that her mother was going to leave. 

“Dad, I don’t want to go,” The girl whispered.

“Don’t you want to say goodbye?”

“Yes, but it’s hard, I wish I didn’t have to say goodbye,” The girl’s mother had made her feel safe in a world so truculent. A sort of emptiness filled her life after that day. 

Y/N and her dad entered the hospital room and noticed that mother was awake. 

“Oh, Y/N, baby, come here,” 

“Mom!” Y/N rushed over to the bed and hugged her mother, “I love you, I love you, I love you!” She repeated over and over, as if she hadn’t said it enough in her past. 

“I-I know you do,” Her mother stated, “I love you more than you will ever know!”

“Mom….” The girl whispered, tears falling on the bed.

“Don’t cry, my love. I will always be here,” Her mother struggled to point to the girl's heart.  

“No, no, no…..” The girl trailed off.

“Tell your bestfriend, Joe, I say bye,” She said and grinned weakly. The last moments of Y/N and her mom came quicker than the girl ever imagined. Her mother passed away while holding the girl's hand and there was a special feeling about that. 

“Good bye, my love,” Her mother said and closed her eyes, letting herself go. Then, all of a sudden, the world went dark, the vacuous feeling filled her world. 

For a week she lived with her dad, but he really did not want to have to deal with a teenager, so he left. The girl woke and went to find her dad, but he just wasn’t anywhere around the house. She had tears streaming down her cheeks as she left the house to go to her dance studio. She then found Tahlia at the front desk, Tahlia was kind of like Y/N’s second mother. She was the woman that the girl trusted most after her mother.

“Sweetie, you don’t have practice today, what are you doing here?” Lia questioned. The girl began to explain all that had happened in the past week, again tears, and lots of them. Tahlia tried to comfort her, but it only made her sadness worse.  At the end of the conversation, Tahlia asked Y/N something that made her smile again after so long. 

“Y/N honey, I can possibly arrange for you to move into my apartment and you can live with me and my husband.” 

“Yes, yes, yes!” The dancer cried, she was so lucky to have found Tahlia. She went in to hug the woman and then she whispered, “Thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem, honey,” Tahlia loved the fact that she could help young kids going through things like this. Y/N made Tahlia happy and she wanted to see the girl happy. 

“I am so sorry, love,” Said Steve, holding the girl’s hand. The boys all nodded in agreement to Steve’s statement and they all went in to hug the girl and Joe. 

“That’s all in the past now, I miss mother, of course, but she would want me to be happy,” 

The rest of the morning the group finished eating breakfast and got ready. Three hours later, they made it to the venue in London, but the group went for a walk instead of staying at the venue. 

“It’s just as beautiful as I remember it…” Y/N smiled. Joe walks right next to her with a smile on his face. Y/N notices and smiles again, but she also puts her hand in his and he squeezes it. There was a kind of spark when he held her hand and butterflies fluttered in her stomach.

She blushed, I hope he likes me back….

[occasionallyprosie]

Frayed Edges

Alt Ending: Resewn

ORIGINAL FIC: AO3 / Tumblr

OG: The battle’s over. The Shadow is defeated and the Triforce of Power retrieved… so why is the chain still here? Why haven’t they gone home? It’s not like the Shadow has been the one that’s been making the portals the whole time… it’s not like they’re in an unknown Hyrule with no way home.

Alt: But what if Legend didn't choose that path? What if Wind woke up the night he left, forcing Legend to stay just a little longer? What if Sky had a nightmare the next time Legend almost left, also leading Legend to stay just a little longer? What if there were a thousand little longer's?

Febuwhump 2024 | Prompt 22: "You weren't supposed to be there."

Read On AO3 Warnings: Implied/Referenced Suicidal Thoughts ----

Legend sat in the window, thoughts quietly swirling around his head. He wondered if his only option was to pin them all against a cause, become find a power for them to rally against.

The bounties worked, sending the three knights on trips had them closer than usual, but he couldn't risk sending Sky and Wars on them together anymore for how violent they've both become. But he couldn't do the others, they were too risky to send as well. Time and Twilight outright refused while Hyrule, Wind, Wild, and even Four to some extent though he still sent Four to accompany Sky or Warriors, they all were dangers unto themselves. Legend didn't want to take his eyes too far off them.

Legend sat in the window, Wind and Twilight dead asleep inside and the world awake outside. Stars gleaming and the moon shining.

He had a chance here. Something that could work.

He could be the problem, he could focus on his magic, become a proper mage and being the other heroes' (because they were heroes and at the first sign of danger they'd help, even now) opponent. Have them come back together with something to fight, then reveal his true stance at the end, make them realize more clearly that, hey, these are your brothers and half of them are suicidal while the other half borderline or outright suicide-baits them.

"Hnnn... Vet?"

Legend looked over, his face softening as Wind sat up.

"What are you doing up?"

"Just thinkin' sailor," Legend assured him, sliding out of the window and walking over to his bed. "What woke you up? Cause it wasn't me."

Wind huffed, pulling his legs up to his chest and making room for Legend to sit on the end of his bed. In the darkness, Legend could still make out how the younger hero's face contorted thoughtfully.

"You turn sixteen in a couple months, right?" Legend decided to prompt, the past two years and each birthday for all of the younger heroes had been lackluster, he hadn't tried to throw any kind of party but he did go out of his way to make sure they had at least one good present, the dinner they wanted, and cake if not a cupcake.

Wind nodded. "Yeah--Veteran, why does everyone--why do they all hate each other? Why are they constantly fighting?"

Legend laughed, he couldn't stop himself or anything, it just escaped him and a mildly hysterical laugh fell from his lips. "Oh," he chuckled, tilting his head to the ceiling for a brief moment before meeting Wind's eyes, "sailor, I've been asking myself that for over two years now."

He wanted to know what changed. He wanted to know why Time would so horribly tear apart all three both of his successors. He wanted to know why Twilight would snap at Wild and yell at Four. He wanted to know why Sky and Warriors acted more and more like the knights of his first adventure. He wanted to know why Four was just as bad as Sky and Warriors one day, as harsh as Time the next day, but also as despondent as Hyrule the next; of course he knew how, four people processing grief in the same body would result in that, but why did they react like that? He just wanted to know why none of them were themselves.

He wanted to know why he felt like his only option was to go nuclear? Why did he feel like everything around him, this little life he's made out of shear will, was only held together by a single thread and he was that thread, desperately trying to make more?

"Vet," Legend pulled himself from his spiraling thoughts and noticed Twilight had turned over in his bed, brows furrowed and clearly a bit asleep though he was awake, "what's wrong wit' you?"

Legend snorted. "I'm fine, Rancher. Go back to sleep."

Wind frowned.

"You too, sailor," Legend chided. He went and closed the window before he moved to his bed. "It's late and someone needs to be up to take care of the animals in the morning."

Little did any of the three know that the fact that Wind woke up at that particular moment, and that he verbally revealed to Legend that he had noticed the changes in the group since the quest, would have a rather large impact on their veteran's decisions.

At the very least, he didn't leave that night.

Legend inhaled slowly as he heard Warriors screaming at Twilight and the Rancher giving as good as he got.

Just split them up, you've done it a thousand times before. Yeah, a thousand times too many.

"Veteran?" Wind was beside him, having gone with him to town.

"Sorry, take these to the shed, I should go break that up."

Wind frowned but didn't argue as Legend dragged himself into the house. Warriors and Twilight were screaming at each other about something stupid with the barn Legend had asked them to start on, but Hyrule was right there and his eyes were too dead.

Something in him snapped.

"Why?" He asked, forcing his voice not to snap as badly as his temper, forcing his expression to mellow in exasperation and not screw up in fury.

Neither of them blinked, continuing to argue. They hadn't even noticed him speak.

"Just acknowledge the people around you, it's that simple," he muttered. He grabbed a wooden bowl normally filled with fruit --he and Wind had bought some fresh ones to refill it with-- and threw it at them.

The sound of it hitting Warriors' face was so worth it. Maybe Legend needed to go on a bounty mission except no, he couldn't, because he couldn't leave these idiots alone for a day before they were at each other's or their own throats.

"Go," he ordered before either could explode on him. "Just--Get the hell out of the house."

"I am tired of you acting like you’re the boss!" Warriors snarled. "I'm tired of you acting like everything is okay!"

"Yeah well so am I!" Legend retorted, fuse cut short and burnt. "I'm tired of having to break apart another stupid, useless, dumb fight every day!"

"Yea' well, if some people wou'da jus' use the brain they were given," Twilight growled with a sharp glare at Warriors.

"Maybe you should use yours and get out."

"There it is again--"

Legend pushed past them to drop down on his knees in front of Hyrule.

"Rulie, look at me. Stay here, please?"

"Why?" Asked the traveler who hadn't left their little home since the beginning. Warriors scoffed and made to make some comment, but Twilight grabbed his arm and forced him out of the house while Legend responded.

"I know you want to leave, but please, stay with me," Legend encouraged softly.

"They hate each other," Hyrule whined.

"They don’t, they're just hurting. It's going to be okay, I promise. I'll make sure of it."

Hyrule just shook his head, quietly disagreeing.

Not for the first time lately, Legend silently agreed with the younger hero in front of him.

The world outside had always looked enticing. Legend couldn't remember the last time he actually went and explored, it might've been during the quest but he was also supposed to be one of the responsible ones, so he's pretty sure he stuck to paths then. Maybe it had been Lorule... maybe it had been Hyrule between adventures. He couldn't remember and he just wanted to go.

Of course, that wasn't happening. He had a job to do and it was holding this mess of what used to be a family together.

He could just leave, they wouldn't notice at first and he could go take the Triforce of Power. Hyrule would notice that and then he'd burn down a village or create some magic golems and attack one. It would be hard to fabricate the danger, he didn't want to hurt anyone, but he needed to make them think he was a threat.

He was about to put his hat on and climb out the window when he heard someone scream.

He burst into the next room and was beside Sky's bed before Time or Four could get out of their beds. He caught Sky's hands and hummed, gently coaxing him into releasing his grip on his hair and the pressure of his nails digging into his skull.

"Hey, Link, you’re safe," he murmured along with various other platitudes and grounding phrases.

Sky sobbed, curling in on himself, whispering about it being all his fault.

A few heads poked in, but quickly left.

After Sky finally fell asleep, Legend stayed another hour before he went back to bed himself. He was thankful that the group hadn't completely fallen and used their nightmares against each other.

Legend stared at the lightened but not yet dawn-lit sky out their window.

Goddesses, he was tired.

"You know, these cakes are the only thing anyone does for our birthdays," Wild said as Legend tried to ice the cake with a goat butter buttermilk icing. His grandmother taught him to make buttermilk and buttermilk icing, but that had been with cow milk. He figured it was close enough and it seemed to be fine...

"Sorry it's not more," Legend said. "I'd prefer to do more, especially for yours and the Traveler's twentieths, the Smithy's eighteenth, and the Sailor's sixteenth."

"No, it's--it's nice," Wild admitted, he glanced out the window. "It's not like anyone else does anything."

Legend hummed. "Don’t be too harsh on them," he reminded the younger hero. "They're working through things, same as you."

"You’re not."

"Ah," he shot him a smirk, "I'm too busy working through your guys' problems to deal with my own."

Wild snorted. Legend grinned when he heard it, Wild had been getting more expressive in recent days, but that also had him being much more sorrowful, which was why Legend was even more careful with his younger brother. But these moments, when Wild was almost himself, Legend could fall back three years and pretend that he wasn't holding on by a thread.

"Yeah right," Wild chuckled. "I forgot you’re the new mom in the te--group."

Not much of a team anymore, Legend agreed. "I'm pretty sure that you are the last one who can say anything about mothers."

That got a proper laugh out of the Champion.

"Fair enough. Hey do I need to go get the Sailor?"

"If you want. I can get him myself."

"Eh, I'll see if anyone else wants to sing with us."

Legend smiled as Wild wandered off, setting the finished cake on the table. Past years and attempted events like this have always failed, holidays ignored because of old memories, birthdays ignored because of high tensions between each other, the best one thus far was Hyrule's twentieth two months ago when Legend had mentioned what day it was to Wind who spread it to Wild and Sky, and the four of them had somewhat celebrated with Hyrule, but it was the same as whatever may happen now with Wind.

He finished the cake well enough when Wild came back with Wind, Sky, Hyrule, and most surprisingly Twilight.

Legend placed the last candle in the cake, the sixteenth, and he hesitated.

"Traveler, think you can light these?"

Hyrule startled, then he nodded and a moment later fire magic spilled from his fingers and the candles were lit... and the buttercream was slightly golden but it looked good.

"Nice job!" Wind nudged him.

"It's not that cool," he muttered, tugging on the thick sleeves of the goat wool coat Wind made him.

"Didn't you say that precision with destructive magic like that is actually pretty complex?" Wind challenged. "Pretty cool."

Legend smiled softly.

"Thanks... Happy birthday, Sailor."

Wind looked over at the cake now, something sad in his eyes. "Thank you."

"Make a wish," Legend encouraged. He knew it was childish, they all did, but nobody said anything (Time and Warriors both would've made a scathing comment, Legend was certain of that. Four might've, depending on his mood).

Wind closed his eyes, then he blew the candles out.

I wish we could all go home.

The same wish he made both of his previous birthdays. Childish though it may be, he had to at least try.

Wind cut the cake and managed to get everyone to take a slice. There was just enough for him to divide the remainder into three decent slices and he plated all of them.

"Here," Legend murmured as he appeared beside him, he picked up two of the plates. "Go ahead, I'll carry these behind you."

Wind nodded. He took the third plate and headed toward the forge, knowing Four had gone straight there after a dinner he'd been practically forced to eat.

He kicked lightly on a table, Legend remaining outside and unseen.

Four looked up with a glare. "Go away, Sailor."

"I brought cake," he said softly. "It's just strawberry, the vet still can't find a merchant with vanilla, but it's pretty good this time."

"We don't want it."

Wind inhaled carefully. He was realizing rapidly how awful things here were, how bad of condition everyone was in. A nightmare of them killing each other had hit him a while back and since then he couldn't help but see it slowly becoming reality.

He tried since then. He was trying. Be more patient, be more present, don’t let Legend keep worrying about him and being too close to heights.

"Alright," he conceded but set the cake to the side. "It's right here. I think they added honey to it, it's really sweet..." he hesitated and Four was clearly ignoring him.

His eyes changed colors, always had, but it was obvious especially now.

Wind smiled. "Later then."

He exited and Legend stepped away from a fence he was sitting on while he waited, a distance away and out of earshot.

"Thanks," he chirped as he took one of the plates. "I think the captain's over that way."

The veteran smiled. "Yeah, he mentioned checking the perimeter this morning and knowing him he hasn't come back."

Wind nodded. He gathered his courage once he spotted the gleaming pauldron the war captain wore.

"Wait here?" Legend nodded when he made the request. Wind walked toward Warriors, who saw him approaching and glanced behind him at Legend's fading form.

Wind held out the plate and cake. "I brought you a slice."

Warriors gave him an annoyed look. "Go back inside kid."

Wind clenched his jaw, back teeth grinding. "I'm not a kid."

"Yeah, you--"

"I'm sixteen. You said once I hit majority then I wasn't a kid. Because for some reason maturity and experience meant nothing to you."

He saw Warriors freeze, then he rolled his eyes, that defensive flame burning clearly.

"Fine. Go away, Sailor."

Wind tightened his grip on the plate, the cake shaking slightly from how tight he held it.

"Alright," he agreed, smiling best he could. "I'll put it on the counter for you."

Warriors stared at him for a long moment before he scoffed lowly and marched off.

Wind swallowed the lump in his throat. He still remembered his twelfth birthday, the one he celebrated during the War of Eras... when the Captain had put him on his shoulders and paraded him around their camp, when Mask had played his ocarina during the birthday song, when Ravio gave him a pair of hover boots, when Marin helped the cooks make some proper island food... That had been a great birthday, only could have been better if his grandma and Aryll had been there. But if Wind had told himself, had told Tune, that in four years Mask and the Captain would hate him and tell him he should actually take that too-tempting leap...

Tune would've killed him on the spot for badmouthing his brothers. Wind wished he still held such trust in them, but at this point, it was only faith and hope that had him clinging to the idea that one day Time and Warriors would be themselves again.

He headed back to Legend and went to track down Time.

Their eldest was in Hyrule's fairy and bee garden.

"Hey, old man?" Wind called, Legend hidden a distance back and out of earshot. "We made cake and I brought you some."

The glare shot at him sent a pang through his chest.

"I'm fine."

Wind took a careful breath as he dared draw closer. He had to try. "You sure? It's strawberry and I think they used--"

"I said I'm fine." The snap was sharp enough to cut him. It was harsh and Wind flinched back. "Gods. Why won't you just leave me alone? Leave us all alone? You're so clingy and pushy. I'm tired of it."

Wind swallowed hard. He shakily placed the cake on the fence. "S-Sorry--"

"And you think apologies mean anything. Apologies mean shit if you don't actually do something about it. For once just do us all a favor and go away."

Wind flinched back, Time hadn't even so much as looked back at him. He clenched his jaw tightly, trying to hide how it trembled. He left the plate on the fence post and walked away.

Oceans, the roof was looking tempting again.

Legend was waiting, he raised an eyebrow and Wind just shook his head.

"It's alright, Sailor," he murmured softly. "They'll come back around eventually."

He wanted to cry. He was sixteen now damnit, he wasn't allowed to cry anymore, but goddesses did he want to.

"I know," he whispered, voice strained. "I know."

Legend squeezed his shoulder and walked with him back inside.

Why couldn't they just get along?

Legend needed to calm down. He needed to step away and just... just--

He left the property and just walked until he deemed himself far enough away.

Time had gotten into another argument with Twilight, he'd called the rancher names, Twilight threw a few of his own back, and before Legend could intervene Wind had done it.

Sweet, clinging Wind who was the only one Legend trusted these days with an ounce of his sanity. The child had jumped between them and told them to cut it out--and they both directed their fury onto the teenager.

Wind maintained composure and Legend got there to help finish splitting them up, a screaming match going off. Then Wind muttered an apology to Legend before locking himself in their closet. He promised he would stay, but then wouldn't say another word to the veteran.

Then Legend caught Four reaching his hand into the forge's fire. He had barely ran over to prevent total nerve damage, heal and wrap it, and comfort the promptly sobbing teen who said he just wanted to go home.

Once he took Four to his room to rest and heal, he then found Warriors and Hyrule fighting, which was a new occurrence, and it was bad.

It felt like everything that could go wrong, did go wrong today.

He just needed a minute.

So, in the middle of the woods, far from anyone, Legend looked up at the sky.

"What did I do wrong?" He asked the sky, the goddesses. "Did I miss something? Was there a dungeon we were supposed to do, an item we're meant to find here? I get it, if this is how it is, fine. Okay. But--"

He laughed, it was a bit hysterical, a bit pained, a bit unstable.

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING WRONG!" He screamed, voice breaking and he dug his nails into his skull. "I'M TRYING! I AM TRYING SO HARD TO KEEP US TOGETHER AND--"

He just screamed. He screamed his voice hoarse as his legs gave out and he finally felt tears slip down his face.

"I don’t know what I did wrong," he sobbed. "I did the work. I protected your bloodlines, your oracles, your triforce. I saved the world time and time again, I restored light to a darkened realm, I returned displaced people to their own worlds, I calmed the seas when I woke the Wind Fish--I served you. And I did it obediently; happily and willingly and promptly."

He let out a pained laugh, a pained sob.

"So why can't--I've done it right half a dozen times so why can't I FIX THIS ONE?!" He shut his eyes. "WHY--" his voice broke again. "Why," he repeated, voice trembling, "can't I just fix this one? Why can't I help them be happy? Why can't I just--Why am I the only one who actually cares?! Why is this stupid, soft, bleeding heart still caring?! Why can't it just stop. Why can't I just stop and just leave? I can't..."

He choked, hands covering his mouth as he finally broke. That final thread finally snapped.

"I can't... I can't watch them get themselves killed, kill themselves or each other, but I can't stay anymore without killing myself. I can't though. I can't do that because I have to help them. I have to make them see each other again. I have responsibilities and it's killing me."

He dropped his head completely, forehead to the ground in something of a bow as he hugged himself tightly.

"I JUST--" he sobbed. "I just want them to be happy! So why--why..." he trailed out, choking on three years suppressed emotions, "why does it feel like it'll cost me my life?

"V-Vet?"

His blood ran cold.

Legend jerked himself up and around. Sky was standing there with one of his cucoos... one of the ones that run away all the time.

He jerked his sleeve over his face. "Goddess--Sky, I--Sorry--I'm just--You weren't meant to hear that--I mean--"

Sky released the cucoo and dropped in front of him, knees touching his own and hands flying up. "Whoa, hey, breathe."

Legend inhaled sharply, Sky's hands cupping his face and brushing away his tears.

"It's okay," he promised softly. "Oh, goddesses Vet..."

He couldn't stop crying. He couldn't stop crying and sucking in large, shallow breaths only to expel it in an instant. He couldn't breathe.

"How long have you been holding onto this?" Sky whispered, carding a hand through his hair gently while taking his hand and pressing it to his own chest, his eyes filled with surprise, concern, and most of all, realization. "You've been playing peacekeeper forever now... and to no reward or renown or anything. Oh goddess, I am so sorry."

"I'm sorry, I can't--" he sucked in another gasp, trying to mimic Sky's breathing but it wasn't working, "I can't--I just want it--I can't anymore--Sky, please."

"It's okay. It's going to be okay." Sky soothed, pulling him into his chest. "We'll figure it out. You know..." he trailed off a bit, as if coming to another realization, "Wind's been trying to play peacekeeper too, and I--I'll help. I'll try. I know I've been short fused, I know, but I'll do better I swear. We can fix this."

"I can't," Legend all but whimpered those words. "I just--I'm so tired. I can't fix this. I've been trying, I have, I promise I have. I have been trying so hard for so long, I can't do this."

Sky shushed him softly. "I know--You've done so well." He pulled away, cradling Legend's face and he was gentle and warm and kind.

Legend wanted to melt, he wanted to hold onto this feeling forever. Even if his skin felt on fire and his brain was frigid, even if everything was awful and he couldn't breathe, Sky was being Sky. He was being patient, he was being calm and kind, he was being so stupidly kind and gentle and everything he hadn't been for three years.

"You have done amazing," Sky told him so softly. "We haven't made it easy for you and I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for that. But I'll do better, I swear. You aren't--You aren't alone."

Tears welled up again and Legend slumped into Sky's chest. He choked out stuttering, shuddering breaths, whispering a quiet, "Please, I can't do it anymore."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry," Sky murmured in response, hugging him tightly. "But we'll figure it out. I'm so sorry."

[pulisicz]

lavender haze - christian pulisic

i feel the lavender haze creeping up on me

summary - you are the sister of the infamous taylor swift. you have always been known as the “good girl” and upholding an innocent reputation. while traveling with your sister on tour, you cross paths with a certain soccer player while in london.

pairing - christian pulisic x fem!reader

song inspo - lavender haze (taylor swift)

warnings! - a little bit of strong language

word count - 2.5k

note - i have no idea why i wrote this if i’m being completely honest

part two

-

you woke up around 7 am, only about two hours left in your flight. you get up to find your sister who is somewhere on the plane.

it was your first time going on tour with taylor, and you weren't used to the whole private plane situation, being able to get up whenever. you had never really been in the public eye like her. sure you had a level of status and paparazzi was invested in your life, but nothing near what your sister deals with.

you walked closer to the front of the plane to find your sister wide awake and going her makeup. you looked to the other side of the plane to find joe still fast asleep.

"you're up early". she said as she continued putting on mascara.

it was true, you weren't very much of an "early bird". you liked to take your time waking up in the morning, and oyu often woke up around 10 am, never anywhere near 7 am, but you wanted to make sure you were up a little earlier to give yourself some time to wake up more before you landed.

you took a seat across from taylor and scrolled on instagram as she finished her make up.

"so, you excited to go to london?"

you put your phone down to look up at your sister.

"of course! the only time i've gone was for that one school trip in like freshman year. i'm excited that i can actually see the stuff i want to this time, and no have to follow an itinerary".

you and your sister sat in silence, mindlessly scrolling on your phones, and around 8 am joe finally woke up. his hair looked a mess, which earned a giggle out of you and taylor.

-

training finished a little earlier than scheduled, which of course, none of the boys were complaining.

"hey chris, wanna go to a bar tonight?" mason proposed.

"ben and reece are going, and we're also trying to get joao to go. you in?"

christian hadn't gone out in a few weeks and thought it was long overdue for a night out with the boys.

"yeah, i'm in. just let me know what time you guys are thinking".

"sick, okay".

mason and christian dabbed each other up and finished packing up their stuff from the locker room.

-

the plane was about to land, and as much and you liked the ride, you were ready to get on the ground. you were just so eager to explore the city. you had the whole day to do so, which made you giddy.

"calm down y/n, we land in like 10 minutes". taylor said, laughing a little bit at your eagerness. you couldn't sit still, it was like the most important thing in your life was about to happen. you had never been more excited for anything in your life. well, that might be on over-exaggeration, but to say you were excited was an understatement.

the plane finally landed, and you were the first one out the door, thanking the pilots and staff.

"finally here!"

-

having a chill day was just what christian needed. early training days were nice because that meant the boys had the rest of the day to do whatever they wanted. christian had gone out to but things from the grocery, and got to go see a movie, something he rarely did.

it was about 3 pm, and he was on his couch reading a book. mason had said 6 pm, so christian still had a good 2 and a half hours before he needed to start getting ready.

it was moments like these that christian loved. quiet moments, where he could sit and read, not thinking about anything else.

-

after a full day exploring, you were ready to get back to the hotel. it was only around 3 pm, but a whole day outside was more than enough for you. joe and proposed the idea of going to a bar for dinner and drinks later, which sounded amazing at the moment, but all you wanted to do was lay in your bed and read. you started the shatter me series, which was addicting to read.

time moved faster than you would have liked and before you knew it, it was 5 pm. they were planning to leave for the bar at around 6:15 pm they could get there at around 6:30, so you started getting ready. you didn't want to rush herself, and took your time.

you finished getting ready at around 5:50 pm, which gave you some time to spare, which you of course used to read.

ready? taylor texted, letting you know that she and joe were probably already in the hotel lobby.

yup, on my way down

-

the second christian got to the bar, he was greeted by his friends.

"there you are, mate! thought you would never show". reece yelled, acting like he was just so late. it was only like 6:09, not even a full 10 minutes late.

christian got a beer and joined his friends at a booth while they waited to order food.

"i was not in the mood to come earlier, but jesus, i'm hungry".

"yeah me too, i'll go flag down a waiter so we can get our order in".

just as mason leaves to get a waiter, people start crowding the front door.

"what the hell is going on?" christian asks, while trying to peer around their booth.

the insane crowd of people made it hard to see. the boys regained their focus back when mason walked over with a waiter.

"what can i get you all?"

-

as you arrived at the bar, you were met with a crowd of people.

great.

you had gone the whole day without crowds of people or paparazzi, but of course that streak to be ruined.

all good things come to and end i guess.

"just ignore the, lets go find a table. booth good?" your sister acts.

you always looked up to her, especially now and how she deals with all of the fame and crowds of people. you have to deal with it on a certain level, but never to the degree that she does, and you find it more than impressing. while trying to find a table you spot some familiar soccer player.

they play for chelsea! at least i think so.

you didn't know much about soccer, but you knew of some players, and considering your friend kendall is good friends with neymar jr, you knew a good amount.

you brushed the soccer guys out of your mind, only focusing on how hungry you were.

you got a nice booth in the corner of the bar. it was sort of hidden away from everyone, but you were still able to see the entire bar.

a waiter finally came to your table and you were more than happy.

"what can i get you guys?"

you spoke up first, eager to get your order in.

"i'll get a guinness, and then a cheese burger, american cheese, with french fries".

taylor gave you a shocked and puzzled look, but didn't say anything.

"i will have a cheese burger with provolone cheese and chips, thank you" joe said, putting an enphasis on chips as he looked at you.

ever since you met joe, the two of you had a running joke about fries vs chips, and the joke never went away.

taylor had gotten the same thing as you, and the waiter finished writing before walking back to give to order to the kitchen.

"y/n, what the hell, why did you get a beer?"

so that's what that face was about

"tay, i'm 23, not 5"

whenever you went out with your sister, you had never really gotten alcohol, and she still viewed you as this little girl, so whenever you showed any ounce of maturity, she simply denied it.

after about 20 minutes, your food was finally brought out, along with your drinks. you downed the burger faster than both joe and taylor, so you decided to hit the dance floor to pass the time, and now that you had some food in your body, you were feeling 10 times for energetic.

-

after christian had finished his food he walked over with mason to the dance floor. if there was one thing you needed to know about christian and mason, it was that they would never pass up an opportunity to dance.

christian and mason lost each other, and christian eventually found a girl to dance with. she was quiet a bit shorter than him, around 5'4" maybe.

after about one song, the music cut out. one of the bartenders said that they would try and figure out the problem as soon as possible.

"wanna get a drink?" christian offered. the girl nodded and they made their way over the the bar.

-

to your surprise, christian came up to you and asked to dance. how ironic. you of course could pass up the offer, and grabbed his hand. your back was pressed up against his chest, with his hand around your waist. you were enjoying yourself, until the music cut out. after the bartender said they would try fixing it, christian offered to go to the bar and get some drinks. how could you pass that up?

christian guided you to the bar with his hand still on your waist. you took a seat and was immediately met with the bartender asking you what you wanted to drink. you ordered another beer, to which christian ordered the same thing.

it was surprisingly not awkward between the two of you. you had realized you didn't introduce yourself, so you made sure to do so.

"i'm y/n by the way".

christian looked to you and gave you a smile.

god his smile was charming. you took a second to really look at his features. everything suited him so well, he was more than attractive.

"i'm christian".

he gave you a wink, and then the bartender came over with your beers.

the two of you chatted for a good two hours, before joe came over to tell you that it was time to leave. you sighed and told him you would be right out.

"looks like i gotta leave."

christian gave a little pout before taking out his phone.

"here, can i get your number?"

you gave him a smile and took his phone to put in your number.

"i'll see you around, y/n".

and with that you got up and caught up to joe and taylor.

-

christian sat there pleased before realizing who had come to get you.

was that fucking joe alwyn?

◯︎

the next morning christian woke up is a massive headache. he and his teammates had stayed out way too late, and he drank more than he should've.

even after all those drinks, christian still managed to remember you. after christian had gotten the chance to wake up a little more, he texted you.

hey, it's christian

this might be a long shot, but do you want to maybe go out to lunch?

christian sat there, anxiously waiting for a response. he knew it was very possible for you to still be in bed considering it was only 9 AM, but there was still a chance you would be up. christian turned on the tv to pass the time, letting his phone go dim while he focused on whatever show was on.

about 5 minutes later, christian's phone lit up.

y/n: yeah, that'd be nice! what time were you thinking?

christian picked up his phone and read over your text, and then read it over again to make sure he wasn't going crazy.

christian: how about 12-ish?

he waited for a response, and patiently looked at the three little dots that appeared on his screen.

y/n: 12 sounds great.

christian liked the message and then gave the address of his apartment.

christian: there is this really good place about 10 minutes walk from my apartment if you just want to meet me here.

you liked his text, leaving christian to his thoughts. he subconsciously started playing out how the lunch with you would go. christian never really go nervous for dates, especially something as casual as this, but you were different. he couldn't place his finger on it just yet, though.

◯︎

you called taylor to let her know that would be out in case she needed you for anything.

"a date? y/n, we haven't even been here two full days, how the fuck did you find someone to go on a date with?"

you weren't going to give her a straight answer, so you just brushed over the details.

"it's just this guy. it's super casual. i'll be back by like 2 okay. love you".

before taylor could protest even more, you hung up the phone. you touched up your makeup one last time before heading out of your hotel room.

you had gotten an uber to christian's apartment, and texted him that you were here.

christian: come on up to my apartment

and with that you headed to his apartment. once you got to his door you gave it a knock. he opened the door, and you tried your hardest not to blush. he wasn't even wearing anything nice, just a simple pair of black jeans, a white t-shirt, and a silver chain. he might have been wearing the most basic outfit, but it looked so good on him.

christian was the first person to break the silence.

"hey".

"hey".

"so shall we get going?"

you gave him a nod, and you stepped aside as christian stepped out of his door, locking it behind him.

on your way to the restaurant, taylor had called you.

"y/n, are you on your little date yet?"

"yeah i am, what do you want, taylor".

of course she had to call you while on your date, if that's what you can even call this. it was technically a date, but you felt like it was more casual than a date.

"just letting you know that you need to be ready to leave for the venue at around 5 PM, okay? joe said you and him can grab an uber, sound good?"

you agreed and hung up the phone.

"i'm sorry, that was my sister. we have plans tonight and she was making sure i didn't forget". you said with a little laugh.

christian nodded, and the two of you continued your conversation, before christian got a phone call.

"mason, i'm a little busy right now, but what do you need?"

"i know, it's at kai's house, i didn't forget. yeah okay. i gotta go, but i promise i'll be there. bye"

christian hung up his phone and sighed.

"sorry, just mates of mine. i too have plans tonight, and they were just reminding me for the hundredth time".

before the two of you knew it, you were at the restaurant, finally.

-

knowing joe alwyn, and a sister named taylor? you gotta be fucking kidding me, right?

-

mason and kai? so he most definitely does play for chelsea.

note - i did not mean for this to be so long, so i do have a part 2, which is linked at the top of this page. so sorry this is unnecessarily long

[victorian-vampir]

I fucking hate the "Victor abandoned his monster" take.

That man stood in the front garden for literal hours before going for a crisis walk in the rain to a near by train station before returning to his apartment again. He was actually away from the house for, a max an hour or two. He didn't abandon shit.

"Unable to endure the aspect of the being I had

created, I rushed out of the room, and continued a long time

traversing my bed-chamber"

The man went like, a room away.

" I took refuge in the

court-yard belonging to the house which I inhabited; where I

remained during the rest of the night-"

"Morning, dismal and wet, at length dawned, and discovered

to my sleepless and aching eyes the church of Ingolstadt,

its white steeple and clock, which indicated the sixth

hour. The porter opened the gates of the court, which had

that night been my asylum, and I issued into the streets, pacing

them with quick steps"

The man left his house at 6 am. Mind you he doesn't mention the time when he comes back to the house and goes back inside, but it's just about breakfast time as the servent brings him and Henry breakfast once they get back, he was gone for likely an hour or two max. He didn't just leave the monster on a road somewhere, the creature left victors home of his own fucking will.

Also the creature is very intelligent. He speaks to Victor. Victor just doesn't really hear what he says because he just woke up from a nightmare to this (admittedly grotesque) creature looming over him. And yes. The creature looks gross. Victor used all of the best pieces he could find but the creature still looks gross, he's peak uncanny valley, he's a fucking Mandela catalog alternate pretending to be a hot guy.

"but the creature didn't know how to read and write!" Yeah. This was the 1700s. While most adults knew how to read to varying degrees not all of them knew how to write. That doesn't mean the creature wasn't intelligent... You guys know not knowing how to read doesn't mean he was entirely incapable right? Him struggling with some forms of communication doesn't mean his brain was empty. He was an adult. The creature had the mind of an adult. We wasn't a helpless child.

The creature is an incredibly sympathetic character, I can't disagree with that, I can however point at Victor Frankenstein and say he's just as sympathetic, his biggest wrong doing was making the creature. He doesn't hurt anyone directly, his only sin is not searching for the creature during the first 2 years its missing, most of which Victor is in and out of paranoid, anxeity induced episodes where he can't even get out of bed. You can't even really blame Victor for the creature being so scary to look at, obviously before he was brought to life Victor thought he looked fine, Victor actively did his best to find the best, most attractive pieces of bodies he could, it's not really his fault it turned out wrong.

Victors only mistake is playing with life or death, the creature is a serial killer. I'm team victor.

[mrs-johansson]

Chapter 4: Captain America: The Winter Soldier - Partners in crime

Part 10:

“Why do I only see you when you get into a hospital?” My dad’s grumbling voice woke me up. Bright lights were making opening my eyes a difficult task but I managed. “I wasn’t planning on getting here,” I declared. “Yeah, everyone says that. How are you anyway?” He took a seat at the side of my bed. “I’m dizzy, but I’m sure I’ll get better in no time,” I sighed and he nodded. “Romanoff just left, she had some government stuff to deal with.” “She was here?” Maybe she visited Steve. “Yeah, didn’t leave your side since they brought you in.” “Right… How’s Steve?” “Holding up, this Sam guy is with him.” “He’s a friend.” “I thought he was a fan, to be honest.” “Sometimes I do too. Can you ask a nurse when they will let me go?” I vocalized. “Yeah, sure.”

She was here. I wouldn’t expect her to do this but clearly she didn’t want me to know since she left. I hope we work things out soon.

***

After one more day in the hospital, I was let go. Going home, I didn’t know what to expect. Is she gonna be there or she'll be long gone?

Unlocking the door I was scared to walk in, but I pushed open the wooden door and I stepped inside.

Seeing a piece of paper on the countertop, I quickly got that and saw that Natasha signed the bottom.

I hope when you read this, you’ll be fully healed and well because you scared us all pretty bad. Even though we broke up, I still want our work to be unbothered from this because it’s very important for both of us. We basically started off as colleges, we should be fine.

I cleaned out my stuff from the apartment, and temporarily I will move back to the HQ. You can stay if you want but we could also keep this as a safe house until we find some options for its future.

Lastly, I wanted to say sorry. We planned so much for us and we were blinded by the pink fog which led us here. All I hope is that all we need is time. You were my first love Y/n, and nothing can change that. But until then, please be careful and never forget, pain only makes us stronger.

Tears were unstoppable. My heart ached. Natasha was my home and my peace. She was the one who I came home to when I had a rough day or she was the one who woke me up from a nightmare.

For a whole year I learned how not to rely on people but she was my person. And now I have to change my life because we didn’t work.

***

After both Steve and I have recovered, Sam and the two of us decided to go out and have some drinks.

“Even though Sam has lost our bet, I’ll pay for tonight’s drinks. Post-breakup spending is everything that I need right now,” we sat down at a table. “How you holding up?” Asked Sam. “Well… I cry myself to sleep every night but I'm fine. I haven’t seen her since, but I don’t want it to affect work, so I need to get my shit together. So we need to drink tonight, these are the times that I wish I could get drunk.” “Alright, that’s why we need a lot of drinks,” Sam stood up. “What are you drinking?” he asked. “Gin and tonic for me, please.” “I’m good with a beer.” As Sam left Steve took his chance and asked away.

“So daughter…” He had a small smile on his freshly shaved face. “Yeah, not a happy story, don’t get your hopes up.” “Is there anything happy about the Red Room?” Giving Steve a shortened version of the story, he was kind of in shock. “So he’s trying to find her?” He asked. “Yeah, I guess.” “Do you think you could be a mom?” He asked. “I don’t know. I’m sure it would be difficult at first, like for everybody, but then I would get great at it.” “I think you would be a great mom.” “Thanks, Steve .”

For the rest of the night we were drinking like there was no tomorrow. Honestly I was feeling sorry for Sam, because he will regret every sip of alcohol tomorrow.

***

The next day we met up with Fury, then I decided I’m gonna work from Stark Industries for a while, lay low and do subtle jobs. Nick thought it was a good idea too.

I texted Natasha and told her if she wanted, she could have the place for herself since I still had my apartment in Manhattan. It would have been a waste to sell that place. So I packed all my stuff by the end of the week. I was finishing the last box when the door opened, and Natasha walked in.

“I’ll be out in a minute, this is the last one,” moving my hands around and all my things flying inside the box. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you mowing out is way easier,” said Nat as she walked to the kitchen unpacking her groceries. “I gotta use this for something, don’t I?” “I guess… You hungry, I bought some Chinese?” She poked her head out of the kitchen. “Actually I have to go, I need to prepare for a meeting tomorrow.” I took off the apartment key of my keychain before grabbing the last box. “This is yours,” I extended the little key to her but she shook her head. “Keep it, just in case,” Natasha shrugged with a barely noticeable smile on her face. “Alright,” putting it back in my pocket, I made my way towards the door. “I guess I’ll see you around,” I gave her a small nod. “See you around.”

***

Weeks have been passing by. I had a mission every 5 days and in those 5 days I was at the office. Working has been a great distraction from Natasha. We talk like every couple of days. She’s been out of the country for a week now, doing some work for Fury.

Today I had a presentation for the company, a 3 year plan for Stark Industries.

“We need to rebuild some parts of New York. The battle was way too damaging for the citizens and building accommodation is our best way to do so,” I said. On the screen I made a layout of a couple new buildings we could make. “Since we had multiple global sized threats, our buildings need to be stable and practical. Families have lost their homes and we're gonna give it back to them. You’re gonna get the files about the plan by the end of the afternoon. Thank you for your time today,” I looked around and with a round of applause we finished our meeting.

“Y/n you have a visitor waiting in your office,” Liam walked up to me. “Who?” “All he said was James, he wished to remain quiet about him being here.” James is here? “Alright, please keep everyone away from my office.” “Right away.” “Thank you.”

Walking in the hallway, I didn’t know what to expect. He was here as James so anything could happen.

Placing my hand on the handle, I took a deep breath in, then opened in. He was sitting at my desk, not in my chair of course. As he heard the door James turned around. I closed the door behind me and slowly walked to my chair.

He had a baseball hat on, his hair brushed behind his ears. Simple black t-shirt and a brown jacket over it. Leather gloves covering his hand.

“You know, Steve is desperately looking for you. But I’m guessing you want to lay low,” I sat down. “I can’t see him, I need time,” he said. “Where have you been?” “Bucharest, had some missions over there and I always liked the city, very calm and hidden.” “Glad you’re alive,” I gave him a small smile. His features have softened since we last met. “Thank you for not killing me, you had the chance,” he smiled lightly which was a relief. “Well what can I say, I try not to,” I shrugged and we chuckled, but it died down quickly. “How are you holding up?” I asked and he didn’t know how to answer. I could hear his confused thoughts. “You know that by now, don’t you?” He asked with a small smirk but I shook my head. “I don’t use that on people close to me.” “Not even your girlfriend?” I sighed and shifted in my seat. “We broke up.” “What happened?” “He told me about you and her, not gonna lie it was a big surprise… and she just couldn’t open up. I’m not building a relationship on lies.” “So you’re single?” He asked. “That I am.” “Not for long probably. You look pretty good when you are not getting shocked.” “Wow, never thought I’d live the day you talk normally, maybe even flirt,” I chuckled. “That bad, huh?” “Could’ve been worse, but with your looks you could get anyone you want so… don’t worry about the talking.” He nodded. “Not to be rude but… why did you come here?” “I think she might be alive and I needed a place to lay low, but you’re the only person I trust.”

She might be alive? How? This can’t be real. “What makes you think that?” My leg bounced, and my heart started racing. “There’s an orphanage in Main, a girl named Katarina Barnes, she’s two and born in Russia, around the due date you were supposed to have. Her DNA showed all American genes. She grows slowly, probably because of the Super Soldier genes and your godly ones. I needed you to know before I go and see her.” “I’m coming with you,” I said harshly. “But we need to lay low, nobody can know I’m here,” James said with a serious expression on his face. “I’ll hide you, but we need to get her.”

***

“I’ve got some mail for you also, this one I didn’t know what it was. No information on it,” Liam handed me a couple things along with a big orange envelope. “Alright, thank you.”

Opening the envelope, I saw right away that it was Katarina’s birthserificet and all her medical papers.

Going straight to the lab, I tested everything and I sat through the whole night to wait and see if our DNA’s match.

I woke up to my phone buzzing on the counter and as I sat up, I knew it was probably the worst idea to sleep while sitting.

“Yeah?” I spoke into the phone. “Hey, did I wake you?” Natasha’s voice rang through the phone. Shit, she was supposed to bring me some papers. “Ugh yeah, but I just fell asleep accidentally.” “So you’re not at the office?” “I am, kind of. I’m in my lab, can you come down please? I have to show you something,” I cleared my throat trying to get rid of my sore throat. “I’ll bring coffee and breakfast, I bet you haven’t eaten in a decade.” Why is she nice?! I can’t get over her if she’s nice! “Okay, thanks.”

In about thirty minutes, the elevator’s sound alerted me about Nat’s arrival.

“I thought you left those days behind when you sleep here,” Natasha’s woke voice made me turn around. “My daughter is alive.”

Natasha’s mouth dropped open and she stopped in her tracks before slowly walking towards my desk, placing everything on the table. “Are you serious?”

“I mean I haven’t checked the DNA test, but it’s a really big possibility,” I stared at the screen, afraid to look at the results. “Well why didn’t you?” She pulled a chair to the desk and sat down.

“What if she’s not mine… I’ve had hope for a couple of days now, that she’s alive and close. What if it’s not true?” I felt my heart pounding, scared to lose this tiny bit of hope too.

Nat placed a hand on my back which made me look at her. She’s being physical and I’m getting anxious not gonna lie. We are supposed to be broken up.

“Look… there’s another side to those ifs. What if she’s yours, what if you could finally have her? Check the result. Whatever happens, you still have a daughter,” her green eyes were giving so much comfort and I miss that every day. “Fine…”

Clicking on the test, then the result, I brought it out on a projector. The big blue hologram showed the answer.

Tears were floating down my cheek as I read over and over again the positive word. I know Nat was talking but I couldn’t hear anything right at that moment.

I have my daughter and she’s alive.

***

“Ready to go in?” Asked James from the driver’s seat. I looked at the orphanage and all I could think about was this little girl, who was all alone since she was born. “Yeah.”

We called ahead that we were coming and I was never this nervous about anything. I’m about to meet my daughter. After the DNA check, James and I were sure that we needed to come and see her

Walking in I had mixed feelings. If they allow us to adopt her, will I be able to take care of her? Mom’s usually have 9 or more months to prepare for motherhood. And I have had 2 weeks so far.

The manager of the orphanage was very kind to us and immediately showed the way to Katarina. “She’s an angel. Even though she can’t really communicate with the other kids, she has a couple friends who she plays with all the time.” The woman said and I smiled at her words.

There were about six kids in the playroom. It was decorated very nicely, animal cartoons painted on the walls and different shades of earth toned furniture around the room and tons of toys for the babies.

“She’s the one with the pigtails. Now that we’ve met, she’s a great mix of the two of you,” said the woman and I quickly found Katarina. I grabbed onto James’ arm and couldn’t take my eyes off of the little girl.

She had piercing blue eyes and dark brown hair, all from Barnes. A big smile on her face, a couple of teeth already visible. A small flowery dress was on her and tiny shoes. She was perfect. “Can we meet her?” I asked. “Of course, I’ll walk you to a room and we’ll get ready for you.”

The door opened. A woman walked in with Katarina in her hands. She was looking around curiously, small hands resting on her caretaker’s shoulders.

We made eye contact and I fell in love immediately. The pureness in her eyes was unmatchable. “Here you go,” the woman handed her to me, and I was afraid to even touch her. Putting my hands under her arms, I sat her down on my lap.

Big blue eyes were staring up at me and I couldn’t hold back my smile. “I know you can’t hear but hi,” I whispered, brushing a piece of hair out of her face. As I touched her little face, a smile spread across her cheeks. “You’re perfect,” a single tear rolled down my cheeks. “Does she know sign language?” I turned to the manager. “Yes, she’s a very quick learner.”

James took off the glove from his right hand, and carefully reached towards Katarina’s tiny hand. His one finger fit into her whole hand. He waved to her and she looked at him with a huge smile.

We finally found our daughter, who is the most adorable human being on the planet. And she’s perfect, the prettiest little girl.

Even tho she had a rough meeting with the world at first, from now on I will do everything in my power to protect her for on anything and anyone, and show her the word that she holds in her tiny little hands.

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

This would be the last part of Chapter 4. It’s a little shorter than the last ones, but I thought I wouldn’t drag it out more. Next chapter will be:

Avengers: Age of Ultron - Two Ghosts

[lgg5989]

Church Encounters Chapter 20

We are back with a new chapter for you guys! I hope everyone likes it. I have conceded to put the read more link on this post bc its so long, if it doesn’t work please let me know, let’s all hope for no more appearances of rude!Anon on my blog. 

This fic is written in collaboration with my bestie @barbiewritesstuff so be sure to give her a like and a follow! I hope you enjoy the moodboard, the previous chapters can be found on my Masterlist and the whole story thus far is posted on my Ao3! 

Tag list: @roosterscock @sydneyhlove @mygyn @inky-sun​

It had been two weeks since Jake left for deployment and you were beginning to worry more and more. Your doctor had been telling you that it wasn’t good for the baby to be so stressed all the time, but it was so hard not knowing what was happening over there, if his mission was going well, if he was sleeping okay. 

To take your mind off things, Bob and Maria had offered to accompany you to mass and then breakfast afterwards. You felt Jake’s absence the most on Sundays. He wasn’t there when you woke in the morning, he didn’t have anything sweet to say about your outfit, and you missed his homemade pancakes more than you were willing to admit. 

You had gone to mass early, Maria and Bob coming with you, because every Sunday, they prayed the rosary in the morning before mass began. You wanted to pray for Jake’s safe return home. Standing with Bob and Maria in your usual pew made you feel more normal than you had for the last two weeks. During the Our Father, Maria held your hand and when giving peace both she and Bob hugged you tight. 

The new priest that had replaced Father John was a kind man. He was significantly younger, barely over 28 and his youthful energy and wonderful sense of humour had made this the best mass you had been to in a few years. The homily had been good too, Father Daniel clearly knew his audience and related that Sunday’s reading to the hardships of navy life and deployment. 

You left church feeling slightly better, your worries a little lessened after seemingly hearing exactly what you needed to feel better. It also helped that Father Daniel came by after mass to speak to you. 

“Mrs Seresin?,” he called out; running after you, dodging running children left and right to catch you before you turned around, curtseyed towards the altar and walked out of church, “Sorry to hold you up like that. I just wanted to say that I knew your husband had been deployed. I have met Jake before, he’s a lovely guy. If you need anything while he’s away, don’t hesitate to come to me,” he said, taking your hands in both of his and giving them a comforting squeeze. He gave you a reassuring smile which you tried to return.

“Thank you,” you replied, your voice small and wobbly.

“Here let me --” he started, bringing up his vestments to get something from his trousers. Once he got access to his pockets, he took out a piece of paper and a pen and scribbled his number down, “-- That’s my number. Don’t hesitate to call.” 

Giving him a tight lipped smile, you took the slip of paper and walked off to find Bob and Maria. They were deep in conversation with Mrs Wilkinson, local florist and well-known town gossip. When you arrived, their attention immediately turned to you. 

“All good to go?” Bob asked, raising one hand to wave at someone. You turned around to find Father Dan returning the gesture, shooting Bob a wink. 

“You know the new priest?” you asked.

Bob hummed, “He helped with youth group Bible study sessions back when we partnered with the Sunday school for activities in the afternoons. He was actually one of the first friends I made when I converted. Dan coached me through a lot of things, especially when I got baptised. He’s a good teacher,” he explained

“I heard my name,” Father Dan said, clapping Bob on the shoulder with enough force that the man took a step forward to avoid falling over. 

“Yeah I was explaining how we knew each other,” Bob said, giving his friend a warning look, clearly trying to stop him from saying something.

Father Dan gave him a shit-eating grin, “Yes, we’ve been friends for a while,” he said as innocently as he could manage, “Saw you praying the rosary before mass,” he noted, the corners of his mouth twitching, itching to stretch into a smile.

“Daniel, don’t,” Bob warned

“Don’t what?” Maria asked, smelling blackmail material from a mile away.

“Oh, nothing,” Father said, “You’ve put me in a nostalgic mood, I’m afraid. ‘Can’t help but think back on the last time I saw you praying the rosary…”

“Daniel, I swear I--” Bob started but Maria waved him off, she signalled for Father Daniel to continue.

“Did you know I taught Bobby how to pray the rosary?” he asked, both of you shook your heads.

“Okay, right, that’s enough!” Bob interrupted, grabbing yours and Maria’s hands and leading you out of the church to the sound of Daniel’s loud laughter reverberating through the building.

He kept a hold of your hands until you got to his car where he watched you get in, afraid you would book it back to the church to hear the rest of the story. You wouldn’t have dared but with the way Maria’s eyes darted around for escape routes, you were fairly certain she had at least considered it. She got into the passenger seat with a pout. 

Bob drove you to a small independent coffee shop in town. It was a quaint little café, sticking out like a sore thumb in the midst of San Diego, with its cute pastel wooden shutters, large flower pots hanging from the windows and adorably decorated windows. It looked more like something you would have expected to find on the fashionable end of Paris, than a side street of San Diego. 

“It’s my favourite,” Maria admitted as she pushed the door open for you to enter, “They are the only ones to do decent coffee.” 

“By decent, she means they serve way too strong coffee in cups the size of thimbles,” Bob whispered in your ear as he passed by you to scout out a table. Maria hadn’t heard his comment, too engrossed in the various pastries, sandwiches and salads on display to pay attention to her surroundings. So much so that she almost ran face first into a very disgruntled woman. 

“I don’t know what I want,” she admitted, whispering it to you like it was a state secret, “We’re thinking of getting them to do the cake for the wedding, but they do so many other nice things that I really can’t pick.”

“Oh yes! How’s wedding planning going?” you asked, eyeing a chocolate donut the size of your hand. You pointed it out to the person behind the til and ordered a decaf caramel macchiato while Maria explained her vision for the day.

“We’re thinking of a green and like champagne colour scheme? So it looks a little rustic but still classy, you know. I think most of our decor will be like fairly woodsey so it goes well with the theme. The only thing that won’t match is the cake. I’m not keen on the naked cake idea, but it’s the only thing Bob requested so it would be so mean to refuse him,” she said, “then, obviously I’ll be in white -- or champagne, I haven’t decided yet -- and I was thinkin like sage green for the bridesmaids?”

“Oh! I was going to ask if you wanted to be a bridesmaid,” she added quickly, “I’d like to have my future sister by my side.”

“Technically I’m already your sister,” you answered with a smile and a warm feeling spreading in your heart

“I don’t need to be reminded of our very complicated family tree,” she laughed, playfully rolling her eyes at you as she placed her tray onto the table Bob had chosen and gave him his matcha with almond milk, and his chocolate coated waffle before placing her own matcha and cannoli onto the table. You sank down on one of the comfortable chairs and took a sip of your drink. 

“Anyway, what do you say about being a bridesmaid?” she asked.

“I don’t know… I’m really flattered, but I’ll have the baby and I don’t know how they’ll be. I don’t want to say yes and have to bail out at the last minute,” you said, leaving out the rest of your sentence, not wanting them to know that your biggest worry at the moment was to figure out a way to bounce back from your pregnancy.

“That’s fair,” she replied with a disappointed pout on her face, a second later, she stood up again, “I need the bathroom, be right back,” Maria said, putting her drink down and speeding off towards a small corridor next to the tills.

“I think I’m going to invite my parents,” Bob blurts out as soon as Maria is out of earshot, “Maria doesn’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Oh,” you said, not really sure how to process that information. Bob looked at you expectantly though, so you forced yourself to say something, “Is Maria scared they’ll make a scene?”

“I think so,” he replied.

You thought for a moment before asking, “Do you think they would?”

“My dad would,” he said, “But I feel like I can’t not invite them, especially my mom. Technically, she never did anything to me.”

“She stayed with him while he hurt you Bobby,” you said rather sternly, “She picked him, that’s not doing nothing.”

“I guess,” he hesitated, “God gave me a lot of good things, and he gave me them… Maybe they’re not all bad?” he asked. 

You recognised those words as the ones you had thought when you were making up your own wedding guest list. That nagging feeling of guilt, growing more and more overwhelming as the list grew and you resisted putting your mother’s name at the bottom of it. 

“He didn’t give them to you, Bobby,” you said, leaning forward and placing a hand on his arm, “He gave you to them. You were the present, they must thank Him for you. Not the other way around,” you added, squeezing his arm. 

“What about Ephesians 6:1?, “Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right.” Bob countered, his eyes glued to the table. 

Without missing a beat you shook your head before quoting back to him, “Ephesians 6:4, Fathers do not provoke your children to anger by the way you treat them. Rather, bring them up with the discipline and instruction that comes from the Lord.” 

“Alright,” he said, “Fair point…So you think I shouldn’t invite them?”

“It’s not up to me,” you replied. Bob shot you a look, “Fine. I don’t know what you should do. I obviously didn’t invite my mom, but you don’t have to do the same. Just do what makes you happy.”

“That is the most diplomatic answer I have ever heard. You should be president. The Princess Diaries taught you well,” he chuckled.

“I can’t believe you still remember that,” you said, laughing at him. 

“I look like a moose,” he quoted, his hands held up behind his head to look like antlers. 

“But a very cute moose. Make all the boy moose go 'WHAAAAA’,” you finished, sending you both in a fit of laughter.

“You know,” he said after a while, “I think I’m finally happy. I’ve spent so much of my life trying to move onto the next thing or get out of situations and I don’t think I’ve ever sat down long enough to realise I’m happy. I mean can you believe I’m going to marry Maria?” he laughed, “I mean not only is she smart, funny and drop dead gorgeous, but she’s also willing to put up with me forever? Tell you what, next time someone doubts prayer works, I’m just going to slide a picture of her over to them. That should do the trick.”

He took a sip of his drink, “And I have a family. One I love and that loves me, not because I can amount to something special but just because I exist. I don’t know when I started calling the Admiral dad, but man, he’s the only one that’s ever deserved the name. And Lizzie is … Lizzie,” he summarised, “She’s a powerhouse, she’s kind, caring, welcoming, warm. I never have to doubt that she likes and wants what’s best for me, because she’ll tell me. And I have no doubt that if anyone ever says anything bad about me, she’ll simply skin them,” he laughed

“Obviously there’s Pete, Matt and the girls, who are angels and I love them all,” he kept going, looking you right in the eyes, “And there’s Annie and Audrey, who, despite having met me twice, are already treating me like I’m their annoying little brother. I love it. I love the memes, I love the voice notes they send, and I love that I get a care package in the mail from them on a weekly basis containing nothing but cookies from that bakery they like.”

“And then there’s you. I’m so happy I got to be your friend, that you let me wallflower those shitty parties with you, and that you forced me to watch The Princess Diaries, Pride and Prejudice -- 2005, obviously -- 10 Things I Hate About You or even About Time, because I swear I became a different person after that film. I’m happy that you let me force you to watch Talladega Nights, Rush or even fucking Rodeo Rythm. But tell you what, you’re a better sister than you are a friend, and the bar is already pretty high. I just --” Bob wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this. I’ve not always made the right choices, or been the right person. But fuck! I still get to marry the love of my life, I still wake up feeling loved and supported by friends and family. And I couldn’t tell you why the Lord decided to bless me like this, but I’m so happy He did. I’ve done a lot of growing up these past few years, I’ve changed so much and that is such a good thing. Everything I was, He made anew. He took me in like a lost little lamb, hurt and scared and he helped me find the people I was always meant to be with. He freed me from fear, doubt and loneliness and I am so glad that his mercy isn’t based on individual merit, because I think I’d be pretty low on the list,” Bob finished, his face showing the gratitude he felt towards the Lord for his new found lot in life. 

“Bob,” Maria said softly, appearing from behind the corner, having heard everything. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder,“Jesus bared the cross for all of us, not just the saints. His blood washed our sins away regardless of who we are and what we have done so long as our hearts are repentant. Whatever you have done, or think you have done, is not and never will be too big for God to forgive. The Lord doesn’t put you in situations He cannot forgive you for, but he does put you in situations He can help you out of. He is good, He wants what’s best for you. He loves you, so much that he brought you to us so that you could finally feel that love for yourself,” she finished, a few tears running down her own face. 

Maria pulled Bob into a hug and you felt a smile come across your face. The two of them were well suited and you knew that their marriage would be a long and happy one. Once the food had been eaten, you suggested having Bob over for the afternoon to keep you and Maria company. 

Your mistake, upon taking in the rainy day, and suggesting you play board games, had been pulling out Monopoly. It had been three hours, and you were still playing. Bob had bought Boardwalk and Park Place before proceeding to load them down with hotels. Now, it was a gamble every time you rolled the dice on that side of the board, you could pass ‘Go!’ and receive your two hundred dollars, or you could land on Boardwalk and go bankrupt. 

Maria let out a heavy sigh as she counted the money out, “six hundred, seven hundred, eight hundred, and fifty. Mr. Moneybags,” she said before leaning back on the couch with her arms crossed over her chest. 

“It’s not my fault you didn’t make a good investment at the beginning of the game,” Bob said to her, a shit eating grin on his face, “Don’t worry honey, I’ll be incharge of our retirement accounts,” he added, patting her on the thigh. 

You laughed at the pair of them when Maria’s eyes flared and Bob’s grin shrank slightly. 

“With your winnings, we won’t need retirement accounts,” she in a sassy voice, gesturing to the handful of fake money Bob still had clutched in his hand. 

“I think we are going to need more than eight hundred and fifty Monopoly dollars for retirement,” he replied, tucking his money under the corner of the board before settling back on the couch, shooting Maria a wink. 

Shaking your head, you picked up the dice and rolled, “Oh no!” you exclaimed, causing Bob and Maria to look at you with wide eyes, both of them immediately focusing on your belly. 

“Oh my goodness, I’m not due for another two months,” you said, rolling your eyes at them, “What a shame!” you continued your dramatics from before overexaggerating the disappointment in your voice, “It looks like, Bob bankrupted me!” you said, a smile now firmly fixed on your face as you scooped up all your money and handed it to him, along with your properties. 

“Hey! You can’t just quit!” Maria exclaimed, “You hadn’t even mortgaged those!” 

“The pregnant lady can do what she wants,” Bob said, looking at his fiancee with a grin and victory in his eyes. 

“How about the pregnant lady makes some dinner considering it’s now almost six?” you asked, trying to push yourself up from your place on the floor. 

Bob rose from the couch, offering you a hand and pulling you up to your feet, “Do you need any help? We can pack this up-”

You laughed, “I think if you don’t let Maria win, you might not be getting married,” you answered him, “I’m fine, I’ll just be in the kitchen anyway, I can still watch you two play.” 

“Alright,” he said.

“Let us know if you want any help?” Maria asked, since she had been living with you, she had seen first hand how quickly you could get tired in the middle of a task. 

You smiled at her, “I will,” you said before turning and walking into the kitchen. 

You turned on one of your and Jake’s favourite playlists before pulling ingredients out of the fridge. Tonight was roasted chicken breasts with baked vegetables, and rice. You preheated the oven and just as you hit the button to start it, your phone started ringing. 

Your heart started pounding in your ears when you saw the number, BLOCKED, flashing up at you from the screen. Sliding the green call button to the side, you put the phone up to your ear, “Hello?” you asked. 

“Is this a Mrs. Seresin?” a man asked, his voice gruff. 

You tried to take a deep breath, expecting it to be Jake, the unfamiliar voice startled you, “This…this is she,” you forced out. 

“Ma’am, I am sorry to inform you that your husband, Lieutenant Commander Seresin, is MIA,” he said bluntly. 

You didn’t hear the rest, because at that moment, you dropped the phone. It clattered to the floor, or so you thought because you could see it there, but the only sound in your ears was the beating of your own heart. 

“Y/n?” Maria called from the living room, “Are you okay?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but the only thing that came out was a strangled sob. Your legs started to give out, and you sank to the floor, your arms wrapped around the little life inside you. Suddenly arms wrapped around you and you could hear again.

“Who is this?” you heard Maria ask. 

Then, “I am his sister, Maria Seresin,” there was a longer pause before, “Who is your superior? Yes, your superior! How could you think it was a good idea to give a pregnant woman this kind of news over the phone?” she practically screamed. When you looked up at her, you saw tears streaming down her own face. 

“You will be hearing from the Admiral, I guarantee it,” she said before hanging up the phone and sinking down next to you and Bob. She wrapped you up from the other side and whispered into your ear, “It’s going to be fine, I promise he is going to be okay.” 

—

Jake knew a few things about the Indian ocean: it spanned over roughly 27 million miles, including the Persian Gulf and the Red Sea, it was about 12 thousand feet deep on average but with a deepest point at 24 thousand feet below water, and it made up about 20 percent of the Earth’s entire ocean volume.

What Jake hadn’t realised before crashing his plane into the middle of it, was how unbearably hot it actually was. The water temperature wasn’t too bad, having stayed at a cosy 75F since his plane went down, but the sun was unrelenting. He felt like he was on fire. 

Although, considering the crash, he probably was. Or had been. It was day two now, with no news of the search and rescue team and Jake was starting to feel desperate. Not because of any real threat of starvation or dehydration, but because his brain had remembered that the Indian Ocean counted about 19 species of sharks and he swore he could see fins out of the corner of his eyes.

His arms stung where his flesh had been singed by the burning jet fuel that had circled the plane when it hit the surface of the water, knocking him out cold for a few seconds. That had been his saving grace, really, since by the time he had miraculously managed to open the canopy underwater, he was far enough down that the fire wasn’t boiling him alive as he swam right under the puddle of kerosene to safety. 

His brain, unable to compute anything but the agonising pain of salt water on cuts, had grown quiet as he swam up, somehow finding a second to take in the scene. Away from humans, the water was clear. Fishes swam, dead leaves floated, and an occasional plastic bottle found its way to the fiery hell that had formed quite the considerable tower of smoke. Search and rescue might have found him already if he had stayed by the smoke, but Jake needed to survive and getting high off of jet fuel fumes didn’t seem like a good idea. It might have helped with the pain, though.

That had been day one, hour one. 

It probably wasn’t the right time, but in all honesty, he couldn’t remember much. Thinking was hard, and telling time when nothing changed at all was something he had never had to do before. So hour one eventually blended into hour seven and Jake’s attempt to keep track was already beginning to fail. Ever since he had hit the water he had been praying the Our Father, the Hail Mary, the Glory Be, any prayer he could think of was sent up. He prayed the Our Father when the sun rose and prayed the Hail Mary when the sun set and he just hoped that would be enough to remember what day it was. He knew one thing though, regardless of how much pain he was in, or how much blood he lost, he needed to come home to you. 

Day two had just started or was about to end, it didn’t really matter. The only thing that mattered was that Jake was on the raft, and surviving seemed just a little more plausible. He was making baby steps back to you. Soon, he might even be able to reach for his bottle of water. He’d been taking small sips every few hours, trying to ration what little water he had left, cursing the fact that he had given Tiny some of it before the flight. 

His head hurt so badly, and he couldn’t quite tell why. Was it the dehydration or the impact induced concussion? The dry mouth, lips and eyes, and mind numbing heat were telling him dehydration. The vomiting, confusion and large bleeding gash underneath his hairline was telling him concussion. Not that it mattered, since it wasn’t his only problem. Jake was fairly certain he had broken his leg, and considering his chest hurt he thought he might have broken a couple ribs too. 

The sun went down on day two and Jake fell asleep for a few hours, waking up just in time to catch the sky turning from starry night to early morning. And so day three started. 

He sipped his water and waited, feeling hot, in pain and slowly growing weaker. Ironically, as he grew weaker, his mind grew louder and soon enough, when he had no strength left to even shoo them all away, it felt like his mind was screaming. Still it grew louder and louder and louder, and then, nothing. 

The world went dark for Jake as he hunched over the raft and fell into the water. 

When he came to, he was on top of a mountain. Isaac and Abraham had just left, the leftovers of their sacrifice still on the altar, blood glistening in the sun. Jake stook a few hesitant steps forward, his leg dragging behind as he made his way to the edge of Mount Moriah. Before he could waddle his way there, a voice rang through the air.

“Jacob,” it called.

Jake looked around, trying to find who it belonged to, “Jacob,” it called again. He looked towards the sky and over the edge, but still he found no one.

It called him again, shaking the mountain and dropping him to the floor as if it was shaking the very foundations of the Earth.

“The pain you have been feeling cannot compare to the joy that is coming,” God spoke. The wind on Mount Moriah picked up, shaking leaves on trees and bushes so that they lay almost flat to the ground. 

“Jacob,” He called again, “The ladder.” 

“The what?” Jake called out but no one responded, “THE WHAT?” he repeated, his voice swallowed by a growing noise. It sounded strangely symmetrical and terribly familiar.

“THE WHAT?” he screamed, his voice rough with disuse and lack of lubrication. The wind whipped sand into his face, stinging his skin, and Jake closed his eyes.

“THE LADDER, CAN YOU GRAB IT?” someone replied, the voice of God replaced by a woman he had never heard before. Jake’s eyes flew open to reveal the Search and Rescue Helicopter. 

Jake reached for the ladder and grabbed it, trying to pull himself up on it. A flash of pain tore through his body, emanating from his chest and he was forced to let go. He fell back into the water with a gasp, his lungs filling with ocean water. A hand reached down to pull him up but the world faded back to black before he broke the surface.

----

Your group on the floor was interrupted by the phone ringing again. This time you didn’t even move to reach for it, your body numb and your mind racing with the information, Jake was missing. 

“Hello?” you heard Bob say, “Yes, we are with her,” it was quiet a moment longer before he spoke again, “I will let them both know, be safe.” 

Maria brought her tear stained face up from your shoulder, “Who was that?” 

“Your mom,” he answered quickly, “Her and your dad are on their way to the airport, they bought a ticket for the first flight out.” 

You felt like you were in a trance, “Good, good,” you said. 

“Are you okay?” Maria asked, her face full of concern. 

Before you could answer, pain ripped through your abdomen and you hunched forwards letting out a groan, “Owww.” 

“Oh my God,” Maria said, her eyes getting wide, “Is that?”

“No,” you said, shaking your head, your teeth clenched together in pain, “It can’t be, it’s too soon.” 

When the pain subsided, you looked at her, panic flooding through you, “My water didn’t break, they can’t be coming this early can they?” 

You tried to stand up, but couldn’t, your centre of gravity too far off from your normal. Bob pulled you up gently and you felt fine for a few minutes before another contraction ripped through you. 

“What do we do?” Bob asked Maria, as they both watched you sink into the couch, both hands clutching your stomach. 

“Call Cyclone,” she said, pulling his phone out and pressing it into his hand, “Lizzie might know something, and he will definitely know about Jake.” 

After only two rings, the Admiral picked up, “Hello?” you heard, Bob had put him on speaker phone. 

“Beau, we need some help,” Bob said, his voice sounding more nervous than you’d ever heard. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, seeming totally calm as another contraction started at the bottom of your belly. 

“What’s wrong?” you shouted at the phone, “Do you mean to tell me that you don’t know my husband is missing?” 

The line was silent for a minute before he answered, “I made the executive decision not to tell you that…” 

“Well that was dumb dad, because some fucking Rear Admiral called anyway and now I’m in labour, and I’m going to have this baby, and it’s too soon. How am I going to tell them about their father’s eyes or his..” you let out a grunt as the pain came to a peak, “His smile and how good of a man he was?” your question ending on a sob. 

“What do you mean you’re in labour?” he asked, his voice quiet. 

“I mean I’m in labour, how much more of an explanation do you need?” you yelled into the phone, sobs now breaking up your words. 

“Oh shit,” he said, “I’m, we’ll, we are coming, be there in five minutes,” he stumbled out before the line went dead. 

Bob and Maria were both looking at you, your breathing coming in shallow pants, “What? He may be the Admiral but he is my dad and I reserve the right to bring him down a peg.” 

Bob just nodded but Maria scooted closer to you on the couch, “Honey you need to take a deep breath.” 

As another wave of pain hit you, you thought that this is what hell looked like. It wasn’t fiery heat and torture, it was an early labour, for a baby who’s father may be dead. All you could think to do in that moment was pray, you fell to your knees from the couch, bending over as far as you could, and the first words that came out of your mouth were, “Hail Mary, full of grace…” 

By the time you had finished the prayer once over, Bob and Maria had joined in. Your breathing calmed as you prayed and you felt the little one inside you settle at the sound of your voice, and your hands pressing gently to their feet. A loud knock on the door brought Bob to his feet and before you knew it, Beau and Lizzie were in the room, Lizzie kneeling in front of you on the floor. 

“Are you alright? Labour? Did your water break?” she asked, her questions rushed and her eyes searching over you frantically. 

You shook your head, “I’m not alright. I don’t know if I’m in labour. No, it didn’t break,” you answered before leaning forward and resting your forehead on her shoulder, your shoulders shaking with silent sobs. 

The house was silent save for the sound of your stuttering breaths. Lizzie pulled you to her, rubbing your back gently as she whispered words of comfort in your ear, “It’s going to be okay, they’re going to find him, I promise. You aren’t in labour, it's the stress, take a deep breath honey. There you go, now another one. Good job. Just close your eyes, Jake is going to come back, he is a strong man and he won’t leave you and this precious baby without a fight, you know that.” 

The rest of her words were lost on you because at that moment, Beau decided to open his mouth, “I um, can we do anything?”

“You’ve done enough,” you said, your voice filled with venom, “How could you keep this from me? How long has he been missing?” 

“I didn’t want to worry you,” he said quietly, not elaborating on your other question. 

“Dad, how long has he been missing?” you demanded more than asked.

After a moment of silence he answered, “Almost two days.”

“Two days?” you questioned, “I could have been praying for him for two days? I can’t believe…I’m…Oh my God…” you broke down into another fit of tears, who could survive in the ocean for two days alone?

Your hands were pulled away from your face, strong arms wrapping themselves around you, before your forehead met soft fabric on a firm shoulder, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I should have told you, but I couldn’t…what if something happened? What if we found him and then you didn’t need this stress. You thought you were in labour five minutes ago, I just wanted to spare you the stress honey, your body can’t handle it.” 

You couldn’t find the strength to pick up your head, so into his shoulder you mumbled, “He’s my husband, the father of my child, the light of my life, I deserved to know, and I deserved to know much sooner than two days after you lost him.” 

Beau couldn’t find an answer to that, his silence speaking louder than any words he could have spoken. You allowed him to pull you closer to him and he brushed your hair away from your face, “I’m so sorry honey, they are looking. I promise you, on my orders they are looking.” 

Nodding your head, you tried to fight the tiredness that had overcome you, but against your will, your eyes drooped closed, and the world faded to black. 

When you woke up a few hours later, you found yourself in your bed, the blankets draped over you carefully and a dark figure slumped in the corner of your room. For a second, you had forgotten what happened, the phone call, the contractions, Beau’s bullheadedness, but in the five seconds you had been awake, it all came rushing back to you. 

You pushed yourself up to sitting in the bed, scooping up one of Jake’s pillows that you had stuffed into his favourite sweatshirt. Burying your nose into the fabric, you let out a quiet sob when his fading scent hit your nose, the notes of leather, whiskey, and pine were prominent and every now and then you caught a hint of vanilla. No matter how many times you had sprayed it with his cologne, it didn’t smell quite the same as he did and only this sweatshirt got close to feeling like Jake. 

You felt a hand on your shoulder and you had to choke back the instinct to scream. Pulling your head from the pillow you turned to find Isabella sitting on the edge of your bed, tears in her own eyes. 

Without saying a word, she wrapped you in her arms and the two of you cried together. There was something almost Biblical about it, the mother-in-law comforting the daughter-in-law. 

When you had run out of tears, and your breaths were coming in hiccups Isabella pulled back from you, her hands coming up to wipe your cheeks. 

“He knew this was a risk when he took this job,” she said slowly, “But I am happy that he has such a strong wife to carry on in his absence, however short or long,” she paused, seeming to think, “I hope you know that we will be here for you, whatever happens, no matter what.” 

You hugged her to you again, “Thank you,” you whispered into her hair, “You don’t know how much that means to me.” 

When you finally let go of her, she brushed away the last of your tears before standing up, “Let’s go see the others, shall we?” she asked, holding her hand out to you. 

“Okay,” you said, your voice rough from crying and disuse. You allowed her to help you out of bed and down the stairs, your belly no longer tingling with the pain of contractions. 

“There she is,” Lizzie said, her face brightening at seeing your presence in the living room. Everyone was gathered around the kitchen table, Maria had a rosary in her hands and her lips were moving quickly. Bob was seated next to her, talking quietly with Father Dan. Giovanni was seated at one head of the table and at the sight of you and Isabella emerging from the hall, he got up and came over, wrapping you in a tight hug. 

“Where’s dad?” you asked Lizzie, looking around for him, “I’m afraid I may have said some things I shouldn’t have…” 

“I think you said everything he needed to hear,” Lizzie told you, her voice firm. 

At that moment you heard a raised voice from outside, “I don’t care how long it takes or what kind of resources you are using, he is an asset of the US Navy, one that we have spent a lot of money on, and I expect you to find him, today,” Beau said, a note of finality to his voice, “And don’t think I don’t know that you went around my back Rear Admiral MacFarlane.” There was a pause before he continued, “Because the next of kin is my fucking daughter who is seven months pregnant, you think it was right to tell her that when she could have been home by herself?”. 

You watched as Beau’s face turned red and for the first time since you had known the man, he lost his temper, “I don’t care if that isn’t in the rulebook! It fucking should be, no one should receive that kind of news alone, especially if they are carrying one of our sailor’s babies. Find Seresin and do it today.” He hung up the phone and in a stunt that made you laugh, threw it across your lawn. With his back at the house, he put his hands on his hips and turned his head up to the sky, letting out what you imagined was a very deep breath.

You excused yourself from the room and made your way into the backyard, walking up behind the Admiral. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so angry,” you said, scaring him. 

He jumped, turning to you with one hand pressed over his chest, “You scared me, twice,” he said, walking towards you quickly and pulling you into a hug. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-” you started but he cut you off. 

“No, I’m sorry. I should have told you about Jake, I just wanted to protect you,” he said, “But you are a grown woman and you did have the right to know, and I’m sorry you didn’t hear it from me.” 

You wrapped your arms around his waist as best you could, your belly getting in the way, “It’s okay dad, just help me get him home?” 

“Of course, we are going to find him,” Beau said, rubbing your back. 

You stood there for a few minutes before asking the question that had been plaguing your mind since you got the news that Jake was MIA, “What happened?”

You felt him sigh before answering, “Their mission was going well until Prince hung Jake out to dry, saving his own ass. Jake’s plane went into the Indian Ocean almost fifty hours ago,” he paused and you knew the next bit of information was going to be what worried you the most, “They had no report of a chute, but his life raft deployed because there was green dye in the water at his last reported location.” 

“Why haven’t they found him yet?” you asked. 

“His transponder isn’t working and the boat took almost an hour to get to the plane’s location. Those two things combined mean he’s drifting somewhere out at sea,” Beau finished. 

You nodded, burying your head into his chest again, “Thank you, for working so hard to find him.” 

“I would do it for any of them, but especially him,” he said, letting out a breath. 

You stepped back from him and he took your hand in his, wrapping it around his arm as he escorted you into the yard to pick up his phone. The two of you walked in silence, him crouching to get the phone and then steering you both back towards the house. It was getting into late October, and the weather was cooling down quite a bit. You weren’t sure of the time, but the chill in the air made you think it was early morning. 

When you reentered the house, you found everyone watching you expectantly. 

“Yes?” you asked the room, looking around to see who would break first. 

“We have an idea,” Bob started, “We want to recruit the church, well some of the church to start a prayer vigil for Jake, until he is brought home.” 

Father Dan nodded, “We would send an email to the parish and then people can sign up to pray between certain hours so that there is someone always in God’s ear for his safe return.” 

“I think that sounds great, in fact, I’ll take the first two hours,” you said as you made your way to the bookcase you had decorated to be your little ‘shrine’ to catholicism. On top of the table was your rosary, Jake’s was probably in his bag on the carrier and the thought made your heart clench. Pouring it out of the bag and into your hand, you made your way back into the living room and took a seat on the couch, beginning the first of many times around the rosary. 

While Isabella and Lizzie were fixing breakfast, everyone in the house found some way to occupy themselves. Maria was cleaning, Bob was pacing the floor speaking quietly with Father Dan as emails from parationers rolled in saying they would help, and Giovanni was talking with Beau at the table, the two of them bent over a map of the Indian Ocean. 

When your two hours of prayer were up, you almost didn’t want to stop. The repetition of the words was calming and focusing on finding Jake was keeping the rest of your worries about the circumstances of his accident at bay. 

The day passed slowly, most of your time spent clutching a cold cup of chamomile tea to your chest while you sat in Jake’s recliner in the living room. Every now and then you would feel your little one move, like they were reminding you that you weren’t alone even in a room full of people. 

As you started to nod off in the evening, a blanket spread over you, the chair reclined back, and Jeopardy playing lowly on the TV, Beau’s phone rang. He looked up at the room before picking it up, walking into your garage. 

Immediately you were awake, getting up from the chair and standing in the living room. When he came back in, the look on his face made your heart race, he was happy. 

“They found him,” he said, “He’s on a chopper now headed back to the boat.” 

The relief that flooded through your system made your legs weak and you sat heavily back into the chair. You crossed yourself and thanked God, for bringing him back to you. 

Beau’s face turned slightly less happy and you seemed to be the only one who noticed it, “What’s wrong?” you asked, your voice wary. 

“They said he’s pretty severely injured,” he said quietly, “They expect several ribs to be broken, and he has a broken leg. In addition to that he is suffering from a concussion, severe dehydration, and sun poisoning. Once they get him to the carrier they are going to update me again on his condition before they load him on a plane back to North Island.”

The relief that you had been feeling was swept away from you in an instant, it was replaced with an intense worry and fear. Was Jake going to be the same when he came back? How bad are his injuries? At that moment, your baby kicked hard. You rubbed over its little foot, “It’ll be okay, daddy’s going to be alright,” you whispered to your bump. 

Isabella voiced another question that you hadn’t the mind to think of yet, “When will we be able to see him?” 

Beau paused for a moment before answering, “By my maths, I believe he will arrive back tomorrow. Depending on his injuries they may not allow visitors or they may want to perform surgery if something is bad enough so I can’t promise a time, but tomorrow he will be here.” 

Everyone nodded along with his words, Father Dan asked, “Should I keep the prayer vigil up then? Just until he is home and through any surgeries?” 

“I would appreciate that,” you said, a sad smile coming over your face. 

Now that Jake was coming home, the relief felt through the house was refreshing, but you had your own worries about his injuries. That night, before you went to bed, you kneeled down next to it and thanked God for returning Jake to you. You prayed that he would recover quickly and you tried to keep the thoughts of what Beau had said about his injuries from your mind. 

As you climbed into bed and turned out the lights, you mentally prepared yourself for seeing him the next day. By the time you fell asleep, you were hoping for the best, but prepared for the worst. 

----

“ -- broken ribs, broken leg --” someone said, their voice sounding so far away, as if Jake was listening to someone speak through a thick brick wall, “ -- concussion and severe dehydration. His chances of survival are good, but recovery will be slow,” they said, becoming slightly clearer, “Physical therapy, and likely a skin graft surgery for the burn on his back.”

Jake coughed and silence fell over the room. He opened his eyes, eager to see you again, but the only people in the room were a greying doctor and a group of medical students, standing alert in their scrubs with a stethoscope hanging around their neck. They made him feel like a zoo exhibit.

“Mr Seresin, you’re awake,” the doctor said, moving towards him to check him over, “How do you feel?”

“Like someone tap danced on my chest,” he joked, his voice sounding strange as it passed through his bone dry throat. Speaking sent him into a coughing fit, the pain in his chest making him see stars with every movement. He gritted his teeth together and stayed perfectly still for a few seconds, hoping the pain would pass but it didn't diminish much. 

The doctor looked at him, then pressed a button and a nurse appeared. They exchanged words and she left again, only to come back a minute later with a syringe. Jake felt his heart drop in his chest and he tried to fight back, two of the medical students held him back against the bed and she sank the needle into his arm. A minute later, his eyes fluttered closed again, not before seeing your scared face in the doorway. 

“ -- Therefore you have no excuse, O man, every one of you who judges. For in passing judgement on another you condemn yourself, because you, the judge, practise the very same things --” a familiar voice read. 

 Jake’s eyes fluttered open, revealing Daniel lounging in one of the uncomfortable chairs by his bedside. He was wearing his regular clothes, a pair of black jeans and a white tee hidden underneath a half zipped up hoodie. The steady beeping of a machine to Jake’s right sped up as he looked around, desperately trying to find you. 

 The pillows piled high underneath his neck were making it hard to look around and moving his body was impossible but still he tried, straining as much as possible to look over any obstruction. He groaned and Father Daniel stopped mid-sentence. He closed his bible.

 “Jake, it’s alright,” he reassured him, moving to sit on the edge of his bed, “She went home to shower, she’s okay. She’ll be back. We’re watching over you in the meantime, you can go back to sleep,” Daniel said and Jake didn’t struggle, falling back into sleep’s open arms as soon as the words had come out of Father’s mouth. 

 When he woke up again, Father was still there, speaking into the empty room as if it were a packed church, pacing around the room and rehearsing that week's homily, “Judgement is very prominent in today’s society. We like to judge people for who they are --” he started and stopped, fishing a piece of paper out of his back pocket and checking his script, “We like to judge people for what they wear, what they own, what they do. We judge people for how much money they have, what they do with it, what their jobs are. I will admit that I have been guilty of that sin. I have looked at celebrities and criticised their appearance, I have scoffed at teens when they tell me they want to be influencers, I have caught myself thinking that some of the citizens of this fine country must have gotten their driver’s licence in cereal box tops,” Dan paused, checking his piece of paper, “All of these, regardless of how mean or menial they are, are bad. All judgement is bad. But the worst one in my opinion is one I encounter daily, be it through seeing memes on facebook, or hearing it from the mouths of my parishioners, it is the judgement we cast over others for their belief or disbelief of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.”

 “When we look upon others and judge them for the way they do or do not worship. When we look at their faith and tell them they are doing things wrong, when we look at their relationship with the Lord and think that they could do things better, we must remember that the standards we apply to them, the Lord will apply to us --” he continued.

 “Most people do get their licences from cereal box tops,” Jake said, his voice raspy and hard to understand. Father Dan turned to him.

 “Seresin, I have experienced your driving. That line was specifically directed at you I’ll have you know,” he joked.

 “How dare you, I will have you know my instructor said I was a delight,” Jake replied, pulling himself into a somewhat upright position.

 “Sure he did, you’re built like a mountain and you have the worst road rage I have ever seen,” Dan laughed.

 “Bob,” Jake replied, Daniel paused, giving his retort some thought.

 “Second worst road rage I have ever seen,” he acquiesced, “How are you feeling?”

 “You know, I have never been so aware that I had ribs in my life,” Jake joked, wincing only a second later.

 “No kiddin’... You want me to call a nurse or something? See if they can get you a pain killer?” Dan offered.

 “No, but I want my wife,” Jake replied.

 “I called her twenty minutes ago when you came to. She’s on her way. Bob’s driving though, so you can expect her to get here in a year or two,” he laughed, “We were taking shifts at your bedside so you wouldn’t have to wake up alone.”

 “I can’t thank you all enough,” Jake said, accidentally shifting his weight on the pillows, “Shit, that hurts,” he winced.

“You’re going to need to watch your mouth when your kid gets here,” the priest chastised him. 

“I got two months to kick the habit,” he replied, “How is she? Everything okay with her and the baby?”

“Everything is fine,” Dan said, “You sure you’re okay, bud?”

“I thought I was going to die,” he said, “I think God spoke to me.”

Father Dan smiled, “What was it like?”

Jake closed his eyes and tried to remember. As if projecting a film on the back of his brain the memory came back scene by scene. He felt the gravel of Mount Moriah underneath his boots, the stones sliding and rolling away as limped his way up the path. The sun was beating down on him as he walked but it didn’t hurt, it felt gentle and warming, almost like the setting Texas sun of his boyhood. 

Jake remembered the vague understanding that he had crossed Abraham and Isaac on the path at some point, but the altar confirmed it. The stones were red with blood, seeping through the cracks and dripping onto the ground. Jake, before he could stop and think, reached for it, using it to pull himself forward. He leaned against the altar, turning his hand around expecting to see it slick with the ram’s blood but it was clean. His name was called, shaking him out of his reverie. The voice resonated through the air, cutting through everything as though the volume had been turned down on the environmental noise. Jake turned around, trying to catch a glimpse of who the voice belonged to.

There really hadn’t been a doubt in his mind about who the voice had belonged to. He felt the words in his bones, flowing through his blood, his body reacted to it like he had never been made to do anything else. He still limped his way to the edge of the mountain and looked down, seeing nothing but grass, birds and people. He raised his head to the sky, but the clouds gave nothing away. 

The Lord called to him once more, sending a jolt through the earth that threw him against the ground. Jake braced himself for a wave of pain, but nothing came. 

“The pain you have been feeling cannot compare to the joy that is coming,” God said, and Jake knew it was true. As true as the fact that you loved him, that he was alive, that your baby would be born, that his name was Jacob Thomas Seresin and that God was Good and speaking to Him. 

The wind picked up. The breeze that had been making the air up on Mount Moriah pleasant and fresh grew stronger and stronger until it lifted earth and sand and spun it upwards into the sky. It blew until trees bent and leaves flattened. There were no more birds, no more insects, and soon the dust made it so that there was no more Mount Moriah.

“Jacob,” He called again, his voice swallowed by the wind, “The ladder.” 

Jake opened his eyes again and blinked rapidly at the cool white light emanating from the large overhead lamps.

“It was…Everything,”he said, his voice a whisper in the room. 

“What did he sound like?” Father Dan probed further, looking at him like his nephews did whenever they asked him to describe what flying was like, full of wonder and amazement.

Jake thought for a moment, “Hard to describe, really. Loud, I guess. Unmistakable? But gentle and reassuring at the same time. And just… I don’t know, inevitable. Like whatever he was telling me was certain, it would happen and I have no choice in the matter.”

Dan took a breath before speaking again, “Can I ask, you don’t have to answer obviously, but what did He say?”

“He said I’d be okay,” Jake replied, feeling strange about revealing His words. They had been spoken to him, and selfishly, he wanted to keep them for himself.

Father Dan smiled brightly, sitting up on his chair. He looked at Jake and let out a breathy laugh.

“Has it happened to you before?” Jake asked but Dan never had time to answer as just as he was about to, the door opened to reveal you. It felt like the world stood still, like the clouds parted to reveal the sunshine after weeks of torrential rain. It felt like taking a breath after diving underwater for too long.

“Hey,” he breathed.

“Hey,” you replied in the same tone of voice.

“We’ll leave you two alone,” Dan said, pushing Bob back out of the room before Jake could see more than the back of his hand pushing the door open further. 

“I thought you had died,” you said, tears welling up in your eyes as you made your way towards him. 

“Never,” he smiled brightly, “You’re stuck with me forever!” 

Jake stuck out his arms to ask for a hug, you sat on the edge of the bed so as not to hurt him but he pulled you into him, ignoring the agonising pain he felt when you leaned into his chest to squeeze you close, “I love you,” he said.

“I love you too,” you replied.

----

Almost ten days after Jake’s skin graft surgery, the doctors cleared him to go home. To help while he recovered, Isabella and Giovanni had decided to stay, stealing the guest room from Maria and banishing her to the sofa. She grumbled and groaned for a few days but whatever Jake had asked her to do in the nursery was taking up half of her day, the other half being almost solely dedicated to placing the finishing touches on the house, to get it ready for the wedding. 

You hadn’t been in weeks now, but she had been all too happy to show you pictures. They had done some wonderful work. All bathrooms had been retiled, with new showers, baths and sinks installed. The bedrooms had been painted and carpet ripped out, and the kitchen had been gutted and changed from outdated to modern. In the livingroom and dining room, Bob had installed beautiful hardwood flooring. The garage, which could have housed two cars had been divided, one half turned into  Bob’s very own workshop. All that was left was to finish the attic, which they would turn into Maria’s art studio, and buy the furniture, which she was more than thrilled about. 

“I’m thinking maybe like, lots of white and light colours, so it feels very lit up. We have those beautifully large windows that show the yard, so I feel like we need to take advantage of that. But obviously I don’t want it to be too monotone? So I feel like we need a few pops of colour, you know?” She asked, leaning her head against the back of the sofa, “Did you guys have this much trouble decorating this place?”

“I’ll be honest, we had most of the furniture already and Jake painted everything in about a week. We got lucky, the house was in really good condition and the colours were pretty much what we wanted already,” you explained, rubbing your belly. Beanie had been making their presence known since Jake got home, sending their little foot into your tummy every few minutes. Recently though, their aim had gotten worse, and every other kick landed straight into your ribs. The only thing that seemed to improve it, was an extra large tub of Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia ice cream and some belly rubs from Jake. Conscious not to let you eat too many calories, Maria had graciously offered to help you finish off your tub, and was now digging a spoonful out of her own bowl.

“So lucky,” she said, licking the back of her spoon, “I am so sore,” she stated, “I need a bath.” Maria stood up from her seat and left in the direction of the bathroom, passing her mother in the kitchen and her father reading the newspaper by the dining room table. It had been a quiet day, with everyone at home as rain poured down from the sky in thick droplets that left everything muddy. 

Jake entered the room. The doctors had asked him to keep moving to a minimum and to sleep on his front, two instructions he ignored almost immediately but it didn’t seem to hinder his recovery all that much.His crutches ticked against the floor as he approached you. You lifted your spoonful of ice cream up to your lips but your tongue never tasted the sweet treat, as just as you were about to, Jake swiped the spoon out of your hands and ate it himself.

“Hey!” you protested but Jake crutched away as quickly as he could, the spoon still in his mouth. He made his way through the living room and then the kitchen, scaring his mother in the process.You followed right behind.

“Non correre con un cucchiaio!” she shouted after him. Don’t run with a spoon!  

Jake laughed, “Non sto correndo!” he mumbled, I’m not running! Isabella rolled her eyes. 

You followed him to the nursery where you finally got your spoon back, but before you could turn around and walk away, Jake pushed the door open to reveal what was inside. You gasped. It was beautiful, Maria had truly outdone herself. 

The whole room was painted a crisp white. Even though the day outside was rainy, the brightness of the walls made the one window in the room shine with light. On the wall with the crib, there was a delicately painted mural. The wall itself had been painted a sky blue and a few puffy white clouds had been added to the atmosphere. A squadron of F18s was pictured flying across the top corner of the room, a two seater front and centre featured Dove and Hangman name inscriptions below the pilot and WSO seats. There was a smaller plane centred over the crib, its name place missing an inscription. The painting was realistic but also slightly animated, making it feel fit for a child’s room.

Turning your head, you spotted a changing table, painted a light grey to match the F18s, its knobs little bronze stars. Over it hung a canvas, on it in calligraphy was James 1:17, every good and perfect gift is from above. 

There was a grey rug in the middle of the room and in one corner was tucked a white padded rocking chair. Over the back Maria had thrown the blankets that Nonna had made them. Once you had finished your quick scan of the beautiful room, you walked over to the mural wall, stopping next to the crib, you brushed your hand over the little F18 on the wall, “What…Did…is this what Maria…” you couldn’t find the words. 

Jake came up behind you, he leaned his crutches on the crib before wrapping his arms around you, “Do you like it?” 

“I love it,” you said with a smile as Jake pressed a kiss to the top of your head. The two of you stood in a comfortable silence, Jake’s arms wrapped around your midsection, you making sure not to lean too far into him as he was standing on one leg. 

Your bubble of peace was interrupted when Maria walked by in the hall, “Oh, so you showed her without me?” 

Jake let out a quiet laugh, “I wanted it to be a private moment, I didn’t know how she was going to react!” 

Maria just rolled her eyes, “I figure we can fill in the name spot when the little one gets here,” she said with a smile aimed at you. 

“It’s lovely, thank you so much,” you said, “I don’t even know what to say to be honest.” 

“I will take your speechlessness as payment enough,” Maria said with an excited smile before walking down the hall towards the stairs. 

As Maria left, you felt a little kick from your stomach. You guided Jake’s hand over it and smiled as he rubbed a finger over their little foot. Standing in the nursery, with your newly returned husband, you found yourself disappointed that the baby wasn’t there yet. 

Turning back into Jake, he hugged you as a few tears slipped from your eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, brushing your hair away from your face. 

You let out a sigh before answering, “I just wish he or she was here already, I want to hold them and show them this beautiful room.” 

“They will make their appearance when they are ready Princess, we just need to be patient,” Jake said, kissing your forehead. 

You let out a laugh, “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more.”