#and I have a lot of errands I have to deal with before/after therapy before I go back to Moab tonight

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[penvisions]

the melting point {chapter 18}

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Baker! Reader (exEMT! Reader)

Summary: Time moves and so does your world.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: references to canon typical violence, gun violence, reference to previous injuries, recovery, physical therapy, therapy, anxiety, medical jargon, description of injuries (not detailed), mention of surgical scarring, reader has limited mobility, reader uses a walker, reader uses a wheelchair, reader uses a cane, panic, depression, anxiety, reader is self-conscious in her body, a lot of emotions, body modification, reader gets some, pet names, a lot of emotions! reader has described as having specific color hair and tattoos

A/N: it's not the best, but it's a good step toward the end of this lovely little series. happy frankie friday, y'all!

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

Frankie was pacing, the envelope opened, and the contents laid out.

Aggravated assault.

Child Services have been contacted.

Will was the first to be called, in order to get an attorney through the VA.

Pope was the second, because he had been witness to the incident in question.

A call interrupted the list of immediate people who needed to be reached out to. Child Services calling to confirm Frankie’s residence and let him know an officer would be conducting a home visit in the following days. Frankie’s mother, Isabella, had said she would stay the night beforehand, to ensure the house was in order and to talk to the officer on her son’s behalf before whatever appointment was set. And that she would be staying that night to help work through anything needing her help.

Benny was called third, because he had been there when Frankie had begun to deal with his anger issues and attended meetings with him where he spoke about it early in his recovery. To vouch that the man had never been violent outside of small outbursts and never in front of his child or in public.

Morgan was fourth, to question of she knew the man Pope had claimed frequented the bar across from Brass Knuckles.

It…it was a lot on top of an already overwhelming situation.

“Frankie?” You called as you tried to inch the feet of your walker as close to the threshold of the back door. The panel of the sliding door had been closed but the man wasn’t in any of the other places you had looked after waking from your slumber. It was the next day, a hectic one to be sure as more paperwork and things needed to be in order. His mother and daughter were upstairs, busy with the child’s few hours’ worth of homework to ensure she stayed on point for school when she returned after the winter break. The first half of the school year being done in the comfort of her own home, to help her handle the aftermath of what had happened.

That had been a conversation you hadn’t been a part of, something Frankie had admitted to you. The decision needing to be made while you had still been unconscious and in the hospital. Between his parents and his friends, trying their best to gauge the outcome of each option and what was best for Lex.

The clatter of glass falling and cracking was loud, spiking your heart in your chest. You called out for him again, worry dripping from you.

“I’m okay, querida! Just trying to fix this sun catcher and I accidently dropped it.”

“Is it okay?”

“…no.” His sheepish admission came from around the corner of the house.

“Fransisco!”

“It was an accident!” He appeared from where he had to have been messing with the charm hanging from a tree in the yard, bare feet hushing across the grass before they met the wooden stairs of the deck. He couldn’t hide the wide smile taking over his lips, delighting in the sight of you trying to hide your laughter.

“So…”

“Alright, alright, lemme get changed.”

“You didn’t even give me the chance to say anything yet.”

“That’s your ‘I have errands’ voice, sweet girl. Heard it enough times when we were trying to plan our first date.”

“Hey, I don’t wanna hear that. You essentially got me with that one date, so-“

“That’s not-“ His mind tried to supply him with other instances but it was the only one that was official.

“We hung out enough for you to fall hopelessly in love with me!”

“But not on official dates!” You giggled, feeling heat creep up your neck from your chest at the words.

“Then lemme take you out to one tomorrow, if you’re feeling up to it.” He wrapped an arm around your waist, hand splaying across your lower back.

“But…child services is coming tomorrow, we’ve got to focus on that…”

“We’ll both need to relax after that, I promise it’s okay.”

“Frankie…did,” You pulled back a little to gaze into the amber of his eyes lit up by the morning sun. “Did you really attack him?”

His forehead rested against yours, his eyes clenching shut and hiding them from your searching gaze.

“Yes. I did. Pope and I went down to the station to hear his statement and he was…he was saying all kinds of awful things about you and Lex and I just snapped.”

A hand to the back of his neck and your face pressed to his chest helped to calm him down. Shifting together, he helped you back into the house and into a new set of clothes to leave the house.

The shop was bustling, a line out the door and your dedicated employees working hard to fulfill each customer’s needs. Pride swelled up, a large smile pulling at your lips as you moved past everyone and toward the back. It had been easier to come in through the front door than deal with the two steps up into the back of the building. You could hear footsteps up above, signaling that Taylor was moving about.

He must be on break, running the shop for you while you recovered no doubt taking a lot out of him. It wasn’t his profession of choice but he knew enough to help out where it was needed. You really hadn’t wanted to shut down the shop for months on end, especially after the nearly two it had taken you to wake up and get clearance from the hospital to leave.

Business was booming, the city showing an outpouring of love and support for you in the wake of what had happened. You were grateful, even if it felt like you were doing something bad sneaking in to steal some supplies for tonight’s family dinner.

Alexia had wanted to decorate cupcakes, something she mentioned a few days ago as you both fell asleep in the middle of the day with a cartoon movie on the tv, her anti-anxiety medication and your pain management ones getting the better of you two as Frankie was out in the garage tuning up the truck.

Will and Benny had stopped by for lunch, the gym being run by the staff allowed for the two of them to run around town and organize the fight night events that had been delayed a bit because of the shooting. They were debating the pros and cons of hiring a food truck for the event or getting a caterer to set up a spread in the front of the gym.

“I can always just cook for you?” You suggested as you carefully shuffled up from your seat on the couch, wanting a cup of tea to take the next dose of medication. “That was you don’t lose those earning or have to budget for it in the first place.”

The brothers shared a look behind your back, unsure of how to react. You were never one to offer something if you didn’t feel like you could handle it. But cooking for an anticipated crowd of over a hundred people would have you on your feet for quite a while. And while you were moving around with a little more ease, you were still keeping your walker close by. Frankie insisting on a wheelchair for the store and longer trips from the house.

A clatter had them both on their feet in a heartbeat, moving toward the kitchen to see you straining to reach the kettle on the second shelf of a cabinet. You had one hand on the counter and the other was stretched up, causing the fabric of your shirt to ride up. The shining skin of the scars from your surgery caught their eyes and they quickly jumped in to help. Will’s front was warm against your back as he gently swatted your hand away to get the kettle for you. His arms came around as he lowered it to the counter. Gasping at the flare of desire from the feel of a strong body against you, you froze.

“You okay, mante? You didn’t hurt yourself did you?”

“N-no, everything’s fine.”

“Honey, you’re burning up,” Will placed a hand on the back of your neck, gauging your temperature as best he could. Your head hung between your shoulders, both palms flat on the counter’s surface. When he shifted to reach for the med kit, he brushed impossibly closer, and you let out a charged sound that tapered off into breathy sigh.

Everyone froze.

“Mante?”

“Just, drop it.” You were shuffling away, prying yourself from the small space between Will’s body and the counter.

“Honey, you know you can talk to us.”

“No, it’s embarrassing. Frankie would be…mortified if I talked to you.” You tried to fight the heat rising to your face, clothing too tight all of a sudden, the air in the kitchen stifling.

“He’s not touching you, is he?” Will asked softy, voice holding sincerity. He’s seen this type of rift open up between people and couples in recovery. He had multiple pamphlets and brochures for those who approached him asking for help. He was the sole source of information, of course he knew what was going on. But he mentally berated himself for not seeing the signs of it sooner.

“He wouldn’t like me talking about it…with you.”

“That doesn’t matter, do you need to talk about it?”

“I have- a little, with Morgan but…I don’t even know what’s going on.”

“He’s probably just worried about hurting you, Mante.”

“But he is, hurting me. I-I don’t even really care all that stuff right now, I’m too tired and sore all the time but…it would be nice to know he still wanted me like that.”

“Does he help you change?”

“Y-yeah, yes.”

“Does he help you bathe?”

“He asked me not to unless he’s in the house.”

“Sweetheart, he’s probably worried about pushing you. I mean, not to be too crass, but your hips are kinda important for sex.”

You huffed a laugh, panic and anxiety waning at the guy’s well-meaning intentions.

“Isabella and I haven’t either…since it happened.” Will confessed with an open demeaner, not wanting you to think it was just you or just Frankie. That it was a normal response to traumatic events, to reassure you. And of course, you would know but being so weighted down with everything he also knew how hard it was to think rationally about it all. “It’s normal, nothing it wrong with you, okay?”

The officer regarded you curiously. Eyes downturned to the ring on your left hand.

“Now, we have no mention of you on any legal paperwork regarding Mr. Morales. And your official address is listed as the place of your business, is that correct?”

“Yes, ma’am, that’s correct.”

“You were the recent victim in the shooting that occurred on….” The date of the last summer farmer’s market was rattled off. “Where you were the one to run to the aid of the child in question, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Now, can either of you tell me why Mr. Morales wasn’t within range to do so himself?”

“Excuse me?”

“Mr. Morales, please, let’s all keep calm here. It’s a simple question.”

“Does allowing his daughter to go off with one of his friends during an open market make him a bad father? Because that’s what your question seems to be getting at.”

“Ma’am, please. It’s a routine question.”

“I was yards away from her when the shooter decided to open fire in a public space.”

“And yet, you didn’t run to her aid.”

“I did, the second the first shot went off and the crowd began to panic, I was looking for her.”

“So you didn’t have eyes on her.” The officer made a note on the file open in her lap. You bristled at the uncaring demeanor, unable to hold your tongue as she talked at you and Frankie instead of with you.

“I would like to speak to the child in question.”

“That can wait a minute, excuse me.” You leveled her with a focused look, not willing to roll over and show your stomach to this woman who was supposed to be conducting an interview. But instead she was taking everything and twisting it to the narrative she was trying to depict in her notes. “Frankie had eyes on her. He always knows who she’s with, where they’re going, for how long and ensures he’s the one dropping off and picking up or it’s someone he trusts with his daughter. He is a good father. I don’t think the focus here should be whether or not he reacted fast enough to a shooter scenario but the fact that there was a shooter scenario that you are trying to twist in your favor.”

“I am merely asking routine questions, the shooting response is only one of the areas in which I am concerned. The other would be your sudden presence in this house. How it affects the child in question.”

“You’re not even using her name. Her name is Alexia. She is a very real, very traumatized child who doesn’t need anything else upsetting her. I get that you may not understand the dynamic Frankie has with his friends and how they care for his daughter as if she was their own. Or how I’m “affecting” her presence by being in her home that previously only contained her and her father. But you’re going to sit there and ask us questions and listen to what we have to say.”

“What is your relationship with the child?”

“I’m her-“

“She’s my fiancé, she intends to sign the guardianship papers to share legal responsibility with me.”

“And…is it because you think it’s too much to handle on your own?” The officer looked less tense, at least. Nodding her head along as she looked something over in her file. “It states here you never reached out for resources that are available to you. Can I ask why that is?”

“No, ma’am. It’s because she asked me to. We have a beautiful bond and she wanted to make it a little more tangible and it was a way for Alexia to feel included once the wedding rolls around.”

“And as for the resources, I served and did my time. I make enough money for us to live comfortably, and I have a good support system. I didn’t want to take away from those resources should there be a child in a worse off situation.”

“Okay, thank you.” She closed her file, looking up at the united front you and Frankie made on the couch across from her armchair. “The rest of my questions are for Alexia.”

“She’s upstairs with my mother at the moment, let me go fetch her.”

“That won’t be necessary, I’ll see myself up the stairs if that’s alright with you?”

A curt nod from Frankie was all he could manage, knowing that this wasn’t going well. It wasn’t going well at all.

Nearly an hour later, everyone was gathered around the kitchen table as the officer went over her notes for the visit.

“Based on the conclusion of this interview, I do not deem Mr. Morales a bad guardian nor someone who appears to have present day anger management issues. He had no prior history of assault and if everyone else we reach out to that is a part of this family’s circle corroborates the same narrative, then there will be no further investigation. Thank you for your time, have a lovely rest of your day.”

The snap of the thick folder in the officer’s hand startled you, head ducking and hands coming up to cover it. She at least had the decency to look apologetic for the action, not thinking of what the sound would do to you.

“I’m sorry, ma’am.” A nod paired with her words, and she was gone.

The rest of the day was spent talking to the attorney Will had found that was more than willing to take on the case. A court date had been established for the end of the following month.

No sooner than the door closed behind her and you all took a collective breath, was there another knock at the door. Three long strides led Frankie back to it, opening it up with a pinched expression. He was trying to remain calm, but he was shaken beyond belief. One small moment of instinctual protective anger and he had created this whole mess not sitting well with the man. But it wasn’t the officer returning, it was your nurse, picking you up for a scheduled physical therapy appointment.

“Hi, yes, of course. Lemme get her bag and she’s all set here in the living room.”

“Pastel! Can I go with you?”

“Oh, um, Lex, I’m not sure.” You looked to Frankie as she descended down the stairs, Isabella moving to slow her speedy approach as you pulled yourself up from your position on the couch with the walker. “You have to ask your father.”

“But you’re gonna be my Mama Pastel, you can say yes now!”

“…That’s technically true, but your father has final say, mija.”

“Yes, mi amor, you can. Papa needs to take care of some things, but it’ll be good for you to get out of the house.” It was the first time she had asked to leave since the shooting, surely a good step that she wanted to go somewhere, even if it was to the rehabilitation center with you for something so routine.

Three months.

Three months since your entire life was upended for the second time.

Frankie’s court date had last month, postponed to today. Not an official trial, due to the plaintiff being sentenced to a maximum facility. His case had been open and shut, no way of getting out of serving time. He had deliberately carried an automatic weapon into a public space and opened fire. Even if he hadn’t pleaded guilty in the hopes of garnering a deal, no one was siding with him or cutting him any slack. No lawyers had been willing to take him on as a client and he had denied a state-appointed one, knowing full well the consequences of his actions.

He had entered the courthouse a walking mess of anxiety and worry. A man concerned about the future he could provide for his daughter, for you, for his family. If he had been deemed an unsatisfactory guardian with notations of anger management issues, his job would be on the line. Tourism bringing so much to the city and the company wanted to aid Vets in any way they could. But would surely draw the line as such an accusation and paper trail.

He had emerged from the courthouse light on his feet with a grin on his face. Stopping at the shop to check on things for you, purchasing a bouquet for you and Lex on his way home.

Then had been Lex’s birthday, where she wished out loud as she blew her candles out that she wanted to go back to school. Frankie had a long conversation with her therapist, and they agreed she would return to school after the winter break. The first half of the school year done at her own pace but well enough at home to allow for her to seamlessly integrate back in.

Taylor had returned home with a promise to come out three times a year. The guys had one last night out with him along, having bonded with him over the course of his time here. Morgan helping to make sure they didn’t over indulge and that they all got home okay. And another night with everyone involved when Morgan had a night off of her own. Though Taylor wasn’t her focus, having gotten together with Santiago, she was sad to see him go along with everyone else. You missed him, his presence and calming demeanor. The way he had brought home to you in such small ways you hadn’t known you had missed until they were right in front of you. But you had left for a reason and he had a life and a kid to get back to.

Will and Isabella were official and he has asked her to move in with him, prompting Benny to search for a place of his own. He was working on convincing the new assistant he hired to let him take her out, but she admitted to you one day when she came into the shop that she liked how hard he was trying to get her attention. You both laughed, lamenting over the eager attitude he possessed. But ultimately you had turned serious and said he was a good man who would do right by her. That she should give him the chance to show her how much he cared.

You had gone back to working in the shop, though you needed a cane to help you get around. It was a part of who you were now, spells of numbness and healed injuries aching long after recovery. But you were stronger than you had been, able to stand on your feet and do what you loved best. The shop was to be featured in a second article, praising your bravery and return to work, the same writer from before presenting you with a ‘best local bakery’ award from the open poll the magazine holds each year.

But now….now you were running late.

Cursing under your breath, you carefully moved down the stairs of the apartment and down to the ground floor. The cats had been moved to the house forever ago, but there was a stray that came around the back door and you wanted to put a better dish out for them to have food and water. It had run from you, but you hoped it would come back for the fresh food and new bowl.

Locking up, you loaded up into the truck and carefully took off across downtown.

The twinkling lights strewn up were beautiful, reflecting off the large windows and glass bottles of the bar and you leaned over to press your lips to his neck over his collar. Though he didn’t turn to face you, in deep conversation with the people across from you, his arm moved around you and pulled you close, hand caressing your hip over the fabric of your dress.

An engagement party, curtesy of Pope’s determined mind and the help of the magazine editor. She had been delighted and more than happy to help cover the costs for the celebration, she had pulled you into a hug when you arrived arm in arm with Frankie. Everyone posted around the bar, the one where you and Frankie had your first official date, and cheered as you entered. You had been sure it was closed, worried that Frankie had mixed up his days for the reservation, but he had said Santigo had made it for him.

It had been an amazing surprise, tears of affection threatening to spill over your lash line at all of your friends and favorite people in one place. To celebrate your and Frankie’s love.

The food was amazing, the full menu available to order and you made sure to get a serving of crispy brussel sprouts that were too spicy for Frankie. He had smiled fondly at you as you inhaled them, taking delight in how the simplest of things could bring a smile to your face. Just as you popped the last one in your mouth, he was pulling you out of the booth and up on your feet. When you reached for your cane, he gently took both your hands in his and guided you to the middle of the floor, where people were dancing.

“Fransisco, if I recall correctly you said you don’t dance.” You teased, hands going around his neck as his went around your waist to settle on the small of your back.

“I don’t, sweet girl. But for you, I’m willing to try.” He pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, eyes taking in the way your long curls framed your face. How the auburn of them was complimented by the dark green almost black of your dress, the ink on your skin crystalline from your glittery lotion Lex had coerced you into buying for the guest bathroom.

“You’re perfect just the way you are, mi amor.” You allowed him to gently sway your bodies back and forth, small words of affection flowing between you as the music lulled into a soft medley of strings and horns.

“I’m so glad Pope pestered you everyday, what I wouldn’t give to have seen him get shot down the first time.” Frankie chuckled, chest vibrating close and warming you up from the inside out.

“He took it in stride, I think. He likes a challenge.”

Off to the side the man in question was seated at a booth, his tie loosening and his attention on his best friend and love. His heart full and his mind working in overtime to try and figure out how to top this for Frankie’s bachelor party. His attention called back to the present as a small figure bounded up to him with a fresh new fizzy drink.

“Tio Santi! They had strawberry syrup!”

“That’s amazing, mi corazon. Muy delicioso!” He reached out to lift her up, settling her in his lap as she caught sight of her dad and soon to be mom dancing together. Completely caught up in each other in the best way. She smiled, happy.

“Are you excited to go back to school, mi corazon?” Santiago bounced her on his leg, the layers of her dress floating in the air with his motions.

“Yes, but I’m also nervous.”

“It’s okay to be nervous.”

“My friends will all have new friends, I’m afraid they won’t want to talk to me anymore.”

“Nonsense, everyone is gonna crowd around you and be so excited to see you again.”

“I hope so.”

“I promise you, it’ll all be okay. You’ve come so far, mi amor.”

“Pastel too! And Papa!”

“Them too.” Santi looked toward where you were still softly swaying with Frankie, slow music playing over the speakers. The backdrop of the flowers and warm string lights strewn over the ceiling lighting up your features enough to see the soft smiles you shared with each other. Frankie’s hands were around your waist, helping to support you while you own were wrapped around his neck. Whispering sweet nothings to each other as the night continued on.

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dividers: by the lovely @/saradika-graphics

taglist: @tanzthompson @clevergirl74 @sullyosully @bitchwitch1981 @anoverwhelmingdin @jessthebaker @peppermintfury @for-a-longlongtime @peppermintfury @tuquoquebrute @readingiskeepingmegoing @christinamadsen @heareball @soft-persephone @vivian-pascal

[regular-lord-reckoner]

it is spring time and appropriately, i have been a very busy bee !!

i'm on much needed pto and it is wonderful. i somehow managed to get completely caught up on all my work before i left so i'm not stressed about when i go back next week

i've mostly been sleeping a lot which i desperately needed and i've been doing a lot of things i've meant to for a while now

namely scheduling doctors appointments and updating my insurance everywhere i need to and that sort of shit, plus some legal stuff my mom and i are doing for some of my dad's stuff.

since monday i also started finally working on my closet again. i had to stop last time and toss everything back in there because...yeah, but now that i can spread some things out again i've made a lot of progress so far

every day i go in with the goal of getting out at least one bag of stuff to throw away and i've also moved out a bunch of clothes i'll need to sort through and a few other things i might be able to give away

feel like i can actually breathe in there again so that's nice. needed that. i'll probably work on it some more over the next two days and then take a break but it should be a lot easier now that i've really gotten the ball rolling to finish it up and fingers fucking crossed this time it'll be all done by the fall where it can just be my nice closet again and i can actually find things !!

i also finally went to get my oil changed today and fortunately there were no other problems so that went smoothly !! i got it washed, too (not that it matters now because it's pouring rain outside now lol) and i stopped to get my mom a birthday card and a gift bag for her present since her birthday is on monday !!

other than all of that i'm just trying to take it easy and unwind. trying to still rest a lot and not push myself too hard or do anything i don't feel up to.

for the past, mmm, i dunno, while i've just been full of piss and vinegar if that wasn't evident so i've tried to just be real quiet and keep to myself until i can feel less overwhelmed.

i'm still in that time out corner for now but i'm starting to feel a lot better so that's something! i've been doing a lot of cleaning lately as well (i did my bathroom on monday and will be doing laundry all throughout the week as week as well as the usual dishes and garbage duty) so that usually helps me feel a bit better.

it's also very cathartic just...throwing a bunch of shit away !! and having more space !! yay !!

oh, i also finally had therapy again after like...a month and i'm not sure yet what my new insurance situation will look like, but i think we're all happy to be done with my old insurance (she was telling me about something weird they did that i just...cannot fathom (something about mailing her a paper credit card that no one would accept ?? idk), but oh well, good riddance !!) and i'm slowly but surely working on paying her back !!

lastly, i tried a new coffee place today because i'm still trying to figure out which local coffee spot will be my new favorite now that i no longer haunt starbucks or dunkin and i went to this new one today and i....i definitely ordered a chai...a 32 oz one at that because why not, i love chai.... whatever they gave me definitely was not chai.

i'm not sure what it is exactly, but it's definitely got coffee in it and i thought at first maybe it was a dirty chai but no. and it's no big deal, i took it and just drove on but what's baffling to me is i was the only customer at that time.

nobody in front of me, no one behind me and maybe they were doing a mobile order or something but i had to sit there for a few minutes while they made it and it was...not at all what i was expecting, but also not bad !! haven't had an iced coffee in a minute so i'll take it !! (they also put a little chocolate covered espresso bean on the top which was very good)

anyway, i thought that was kinda funny. i've also finished all my chores and errands for the day now so i might take a nap or i might read or who knows what i might do, i actually have time to myself !!!!

just wanted to give a little update since for once it isn't me just bitchin' about things XD

hope if you're reading this that you're doing well and i'll be back to being a human (or as close to it as i get) ....sometime !! <3

[hekateinhell]

♡ Hospital AU Lestat and Armand 🏥💕

*DYING at you picking an AU that technically does not exist yet lmao I'm obsessed! I really did love the back-and-forth tweet fic style thing with DA + everyone else who contributed because this one is just really fun and kinky and I've missed them!!

So for the sake of headcanons, let's say they're at the point in their relationship where they just started dating. Armand and therapist!Lestat are still engaging in unethical BDSM activities in the workplace (Armand is still seeing cute anesthesiologist!Daniel on the side; he doesn't ask about Lestat's extracurriculars).

Hospital AU tag for anyone who wants to know what exactly is going on here... you'll miss some stuff if you have the default 'Mature' content filters on, go check that if you follow me please. 🥹

NSFW below the cut.

Who is the most affectionate?

It's a weird transition from "Armand bending over Lestat's lap, spreading himself open and waiting for an insertion of some sort — in a purely professional capacity, of course" to "Hey, want me to pick you up after your shift? It'll be 3am..."

At first Lestat's somewhat hesitant to cuddle Armand because Armand just looks so standoffish and disinterested sometimes (hilarious considering Lestat's already had Armand panting and rutting against his jeans while Lestat fucks him with a silicone impression of his dick right there on his therapy couch).

But he gets over it by their second sleepover and just grabs Armand in this massive bear cuddle and pins him to his chest. Armand's startled at first but then he reaches up to grip Lestat's forearms and doesn't let go. Hard to envision a world where Lestat isn't the golden retriever boyfriend, and he is definitely still the most affectionate of the two, but Armand's much more open now that Lestat's ripped that Band-Aid off for them (so to speak).

Armand showing affection looks more like kissing Lestat's temple before leaving his office after one of their "therapy sessions", sore and hazy but grateful. Wrapping his arms around Lestat's back and pressing his cheek to his middle while he's trying to cook in Armand's kitchen (the first time that apartment has seen honest to goodness food). Touching Lestat's arm when they pass each other in the hallway, Armand pretending he hadn't just gotten rug-burn 10 minutes ago while he was busy choking on Lestat's dick and squirming on cheap carpet two rooms down (jk his gag reflex is excellent).

Who initiates the handholding?

Armand's not one for PDA so it's a Big Deal when he does reach for Lestat's hand to ground himself after a particularly rough shift if they're still in public/the hospital parking lot/running errands.

He does everything he can for his patients and his job is his whole identity, so he takes it very hard when something does go wrong.

He's a long way from ever even thinking about admitting it but sometimes Lestat's large, blazingly warm hands feel like the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

Who worries more for the other?

Lestat worries about Armand a lot because he has the unhealthiest stereotypical baby surgeon habits—thinks he's invincible and can survive on Monster energy drinks and vending machine honeybuns and a combined six hours of sleep over a three-day period. He's seen a lot of young doctors crash and burn in the couple years he's been practicing at Trinity General.

Who is more likely to ask for help?

Lestat makes his living reminding people 'there's no shame in asking for help, we're all human', but it's always easier to preach rather to practice.

I'd say they both equally suck at this for very similar reasons: ego, pride, and trauma. Imagine a psychotherapist and a cardiothoracic surgeon asking for help.

Who is the one always losing the keys?

Armand can't remember when he ate his last "meal" or the last time he slept. It's Armand. At this point he more or less lives in Lestat's townhouse out of necessity (at least until he can find time to call the super and get another key and he will Not Be Doing That).

Who leaves little love notes for the other?

Since they're in the awkward, unofficial 'I know what your face looks like when you're having a god-tier orgasm but not your favorite food or color" stage, love notes look more like Lestat texting Armand "Did you eat today? I'll Uber you something to the hospital."

Or Armand simply asking him, "Text me when you're going to bed?" (which really means "Text me when you're staying put for the night so I know you're safe wherever you are.")

Comes more naturally to Lestat though for sure.

Who can’t sleep unless the other is there?

Lestat is finding more and more lately that he sleeps the best when Armand's ass is pressed up against his stomach. Or when somehow their positions switch up during the night and he wakes up from a dream to find his head over Armand's chest and Armand's hand in his hair.

Who is more likely to propose to the other?

ashsjksksgd don't mention that word right now, they'll both run for the hills.

(Lestat. He lowkey wanted to marry Armand ever since Armand took a stethoscope to his heart right in the middle of bouncing on his cock and came hard to the sound of Lestat's heart beating right out of his chest... it's exactly the kind of freakish behavior that captured Lestat's attention permanently and also his dick. It's... unusual, make no mistake, but also pretty fucking hot.)

Who introduced the other to their family first?

It's extremely unfortunate that Lestat's mother works at the same hospital in which he fucks his coworker on the regular. She knows, because Gabrielle knows all. She is unimpressed.

We'll say Lestat, even though he wishes very much that were not the case.

Who is more likely to play with the other’s hair?

Armand's getting better and better with showing affection (he's never had to do this before, he's never been in a situationship that wasn't based purely on sex). He's learning that Lestat really responds some kind of way to Armand dragging his nails through his hair and rubbing his scalp. And by some kind of way, I mean he makes the most pathetic whining sound and looks like he's in physical pain.

Who makes sure the other has meals/stays hydrated?

See 'love notes.'

It must be noted that Lestat is not above having Armand eat from his hand like a dog while he already has him pliant over his lap and laying in his own cum in the office, too blissed out and sweet to be snarky and dismissive.

(Also, this is Lestat. He's not completely selfless, don't get the wrong idea — at least 50% of this is rooted his own desire to not only be wanted but also needed).

Who is more likely to stand up to anyone for the other?

They're both feral, it's a tie.

Who is the most likely to prepare a surprise for the other?

Armand is not a fan of surprises, thank you very much. He experiences enough shocks in his day-to-day rummaging around people's chests.

Lestat on the other hand loves a good surprise; he's always exclaiming and gasping over stuff in a very childish and endearing way. Armand picks up on this early on in their dates and tries to surprise him throughout the week with little gifts (some of the adult and provocative nature).

Who makes the other pinky promise not to do certain things?

Lestat once dared say to Armand, "Pinky promise me you won't sleep in the on-call room for the fourth night in a row because you're that stressed out about your patient?"

Armand laughed in his face.

Who puts a blanket over the other when they fall asleep on the couch?

Both of them.

Lestat hunts down Armand during his lunch breaks (super casually, if he bumps into him it's purely coincidental) and sometimes he finds him asleep in the doctor's lounge or an empty patient's room, so he'll grab a blanket from the supply closet and tuck him in.

Lestat does actually work as well, and there have been times where Armand showed up for his "appointment" to find Lestat sound asleep on a pile of paperwork. Armand still privately thinks that what he does is more important (because he's a surgeon with a God complex), but he can't deny that Lestat's job also takes a very real toll on him. Armand raids the supply closet (different one) and even manages to slip a thin hospital pillow under Lestat's head while he frowns and sighs in his sleep.

It's one of those moments where things suddenly seem a little too real for Armand, and his own heart aches in a way he's not ready to acknowledge.

[marshmallowprotection]

That might be an odd request, how do you think Saeray would spend time in his bad day? Like Let's say that his is back from the job or errands, he is tired, maybe kinda annoyed ofc nothing extrime but MC is bact kin 2-3 hours from now.

I guess he might go gardening, but do you have any other ideas?

A bad day for GE Saeran? Well, he's no stranger to a bad day. We've all experienced them and even he is going to have them every now and again. Bad days were difficult for him in the past because there wasn't a way for him to know how to cope with it. He didn't have any tools or people to turn to in his time of need.

He had to throw a dozen darts at the wall and second-guess himself until something stuck. It gave him a lot of habits that he's trying to work to undo. He's in therapy so he's learning how to deal with that, but being medicated and having a safe spot to turn to won't remove bad days. Everyone gets them. You have to learn how to adapt to that and take what you can out of the bad to get through the worst of the bad day. That's a different story for everyone.

His anger is the one thing he's been working to let go of. But, he can't hide that. He can change how he confronts it but he still feels it. He's just determined to learn healthier ways to confront anger and disdain instead of lashing outward or inward. It's tough but he's learning and it means a lot to him if you notice that. He gets irritated on his decent days and irritable on the worst days. Yet, he decides to get busy with his hands.

If he's busy working on something, he won't have time to get angry. He'll have time to set aside his frustration and come back to it when he's ready. It has the feeling to it like when you have an argument with somebody and take some time apart to think about why you were upset, and the best way to confront the conversation between the two of you in the right way.

He's not avoiding the conflict of the problem. He's taking some time to think about himself and that's better for him. It's easier to digest what he's feeling in chunks than it is to deal with it all at once. It's important to make a note of that because some people think that if you push yourself into doing something else after you get frustrated, that means that you're trying to avoid it. He's not avoiding them.

He's making the educated decision to step away from something so that he can clear his mind and think about the best way to phrase himself. They say never go to bed angry and to always clear your mind before then, but that's not always the case. Sometimes what you really need to do is step away and reassess the situation from a different angle. 

This is all situational and circumstantial. it largely depends on what was getting him worked up in the first place. So, for minor things that get him worked up as opposed to major things, he handles them in a bit of a different way. If it's not something that he has to work out with you or somebody else, and it's just a problem with something that triggered him or bothered him, there's a different methodology. 

He spends his time thinking about what got him worked up and what would be the best way to handle it in the future. You can't always avoid the things that make you uncomfortable but you can adapt to the situation to find a better way to protect yourself from those things.

So, depending on what got him upset in the first place is going to direct his thoughts. So, for something as little as a minor irritation like you mentioned, it's not going to be a big deal where he needs to reassess how he interacts with the world around him. 

It's more likely that he's going to return to a hobby that he enjoys to cool off for a little bit and then figure out why he was frustrated in the first place. How can he handle that in the future? What is the best way to confront the things that he is dealing with? Is this something that he's going to need help with in the future? Is this something that he can do by himself? There are a lot of thoughts that go into this sort of thing. He wouldn't want to talk to you about it until he's sure of how to describe what it is. He doesn't want to come to you confused about what he's feeling without knowing a word to at least describe it. 

So, for him, that's going to be different hobbies that he's picked up along the way. Gardening is the most obvious one because that's his go-to thing. Baking is another hobby that he likes to pick up when he needs to clear his mind. There are definitely a few others that get mixed up in there that he likes and continues to work at. You might catch him in the process of trying to sort out his feelings while he's doing this, and it's okay to approach him but he'll let you know if he needs time to be alone or not. That's healthy communication, folks.

[sallysgrancanwrite]

Chapter Ten

Over the next several weeks Chloe and Michael spent all their time together furnishing and decorating the house. Beth came along a few times to help out and give her opinion. Chloe decided she needed to bring up the visit with his ex-wife and the awful burns on her face and body. One day she felt it was time.

"Michael, may we talk honey?"

"This sound serious." He said as he sat down beside her on the new leather couch.

"I had a visit a few weeks ago from someone you know. It was very disturbing what she had to say and show me."

"She said she was your ex-wife Hope, and she was covered in burns. She wore a veil to cover her facial burns. She told me a story that you tried to kill her by burning her alive in this house with your parents. She made it out alive and got help. It was horrible to see Michael, she cried.”

"My ex-wife came to see you? I didn't try to kill her. I tried to get her out but couldn't so I ran for help. She has told everyone for years I'm a monster and tried to kill her. It just isn't true. She had her sister help file divorce papers while in the hospital. She was in so much pain she didn't know what she was saying. I was never charged with anything." He explained

"Well, who was this woman?" Michael asked.

"I'm sorry Michael, but I wanted to be open and honest with you."

Chloe reached over and hugged Michael. He tenderly kissed her and she realized how much she loved him.

"His ex-wife had taken in a lot of smoke and was badly burned. By the time help got there she was unconscious. She was mistaken that's all. Mind playing tricks on her. She hurt so someone needed to pay,” Chloe thought

It was getting close to Christmas. On Friday the family was having close friends and family over for a tree decorating party. As well as an Anniversary party for Edith and Bob. It would be their 25th wedding Anniversary. This year there would be one extra person who was very dear to Chloe, Michael. It would be so much fun. The therapy had been really helping. No anger, snapping, hitting, yelling, nothing. It was wonderful. He got upset sometimes like everyone but always caught himself. Christmas was going to be great.

"Beth, have you gotten your Christmas shopping done yet?” Chloe asked her Thursday afternoon at work.

"Are you kidding girl, I haven't even started," she threw her head back and laughed.

"You know I procrastinate with everything." She giggled.

"Well, you can come with me tomorrow and we will both procrastinate our Christmas lists together until their done."

"I guess we have the day off,” Beth said "so it's a deal!"

The Cafe started to get an afternoon bumper of customers. It got very busy all of a sudden. Beth took one side and Chloe took the other side.

"HI Georgia and Hannah. You have a minute away from the B&B?”

"We like to take an hour or two every week or two to ourselves,” said Hannah. “We have great Managers so it's in good hands." She replied.

Georgia chimed in, "Today we are having a quick bite and doing a bit of Christmas shopping.”

"Well, I won't hold your up. What would you ladies like?"

"A cup of cream of broccoli soup with half a tuna sandwich please dear, for us both,” Hannah said.

"Okay I'll be right back with your order and with more decaffeinated coffee for you."

Chloe was quickly off to take Curtis McGoverns order so he could get back to the hardware store. Then to LuLu so she could do Edith's hair in a while. Within about 2 hours it had finally quieted down and it was just some farmers sitting around drinking coffee and talking about this year's farmer's almanac predictions. Beth and Chloe began tearing things apart and cleaning everything before there shift ended in a couple hours.

"Hey, we haven't spent much girl time together lately, how about a or two after work?” Chloe asked.

"A couple would be okay. Edith has a list of errands for us you know." Beth replied

"Yes I’m aware of it,” Chloe said.

They finished up work and walked over to Bella's to have a couple of drinks. They had no more than got there drinks and Michael showed up. Beth spoke up.

"Not tonight cowboy, it's girls night. Sorry."

Michael looked at Chloe for confirmation.

"Sorry Michael, I told Beth we would spend time together since I hadn't seen her much lately. Don't worry honey, you'll see me tomorrow at the party."

Michael sighed and agreed “Okay. I love you. Be safe."

"I love you too.”

Michael picked her up off the bar stool and gave her a kiss that took her breath away.

"Bye babe,” he said and he was gone.

"That was quite the spectacle,” Beth said.

"Oh come on, I've seen you neckin' in the back of the bar with a few guys. So don't talk spectacle to me." Chloe snapped.

"Calm down. It was just a comment. Let's finish our drinks and hammer out this list for Edith."

" I'm sorry,” Chloe said

"Me too.”

It was chilly out, or at least for the South it was, so the drinks warmed them up. It was only 45 degrees.

But they hurried along. They ran to the car and turned the heat on. They ran all the errands in a hurry so they could get home before Edith thought the had gotten kidnapped. As soon as they walked in Edith said

"Where have you been? Do you know what time it is. I've been worried. You could have been kidnapped for all I knew."

The girls both bust out laughing. Edith was so predictable but you had to love her.

"Edith,” Chloe said, “we were getting the things at the grocery store, then we went and got the party decor you ordered at Patty's Party supplies and then we stopped and picked up the boxes of liquor you ordered. Which by the looks of how much you bought it should be quite the fun party." She laughed.

"Don't worry Edith,” Beth chimed in, “everything is under control. We'll get up early and help with appetizers and anything else you need. Okay?”

With that both girls went to their rooms to go to bed. Chloe wondered what to get Michael for Christmas. She had seen a beautiful gold pocket watch at the jewelry store. She was thinking of getting that and engraving 'I love you' on it. Yes I think that's what I will do. As she sat on the bed in her nightgown putting lotion on she heard something outside her window. The next thing she knew Michael was in her room.

"Michael! What are you doing?" she whispered.

"I had to see you. Look at how beautiful you are. Don't worry, I only want to tell you good night and give you a kiss." He stated

"Well that is sweet of you."

He leaned over to kiss her. It made Chloe feel all warm inside.

"You know I love you don't you Chloe?" He asked

"Yes, I and I love you."

"I'm going to get you a very special gift. I very excited about. I hope you'll like it."

"I'm sure I will love it Michael, but if you tell me what it is I can be sure." She said giggling.

"Absolutely not! You'll see it soon enough." He smiled.

"It's getting late Michael and I have a busy day tomorrow so you better go. Sorry to say but you're going to have to leave the way you came." They both laughed.

As Michael got in his car he was so excited for the gift he was going to give her at the party to tomorrow night he knew he would get little sleep.

[livingwithlosingyou]

Living with Losing You - 10/12/2022

It finally rained!!!

Which meant that I got to wear that sweater dress that I can’t ever wear in SD because it’s too hot. I know you loved that dress. I woke up after having the strangest dream(s) last night. I don’t even know if I have the capablity to go into full detail, but I do feel like I should maybe open up about this one. At least a little bit .

So, in the dream I went back to school, and I was stressing out because I didn’t know where my classes were, and I couldn’t access the information to figure that out. When I finally found one of the classes, I was given a failing grade to start off with, and I was confused as to why I was already so behind. It felt like I had just started. After that I was still walking around and trying to find the rest of my classes, and I saw that I needed to get up a staircase that made me climb up a sketchy wall, only to realize that there was an easier entrance, I just had to look a little harder for it. When I was trying to scale the wall, this guy came up to me and asked me why I was making it harder on myself and I said that I have just never been enough. Clearing having feelings of inadequacy. In all these classes I was either late, failing, etc. At one point I was walking down a hall way to the next class, and I felt this sensation of just wanting to die, in my dream. So, in slow motion with my backpack and tears in my eyes, I started to sprint toward the end of the hallway, swinging my arms as if I was going to launch myself through the window and out / off the building. But then I stopped myself. There was another class I had to check out, it was music. I walked in and someone called me over, immediately. I walked over and checked into the class, I felt good. There were people singing and dancing around. It was like community. I was still feeling like I was missing you in the dream but I was confused as to why. I kept trying to text you and the message kept saying it was failing. Really throughout the entire dream I thought about how much I missed you and that I wanted to see you, but really that I wasn’t enough so you couldn’t see me. 

All that being said, this is what therapy is for, and  this is why I like to run / write music. Outlets are so important. And, honestly it’s been really shitting to have to wake up everyday and remind myself that you’re gone. I keep waking up and thinking that you’re alive. I am not sure how to stop that, cause you’re so alive in my dreams. 

After I woke up and settled my head a bit, I logged onto my emails and started to go through those. Once I was done with that, I decided to quickly get ready to run a couple errands before I headed into your dad’s office. 

Well, your mom left while I was getting ready. No big deal, I was able to blast my music while I was prepping for the day. I decided to listen to the songs that I have been working on in the studio. Well, the song that I started playing at the time was actually a song I wrote in this house, in the bed that I am staying in right now. And I wrote it laying right next to you. I am not sure if you ever knew that. Actually not sure if I ever had shown you this one. Either way, it was playing and I was intently listening while getting ready and suddenly TO THE BEAT OF THE SONG... the lights started to turn on and off. Not flickering, like entirely on and off. For four so so beats. So not once or twice. It was intense and scared the crap out of me. I have a feeling, I sensed something when it happened. I hope that was you telling me you liked the song? Honestly I think that you’d always been so supportive of my music I can’t imagine that guardian angel James would have any issues with my self expression. Either way, scared the crap out of me. Also, your mom said that has never happened. You like to mess with these lights a lot, huh? I have had other instances too, when she was not home. 

I headed to the GF bakery, but luckily remembered to call it in which was perfect timing to just quickly grab when I got there. They know me by name there now. AND I am really not needing GPS for a lot of my errands anymore. I am proud and happy to be an honorary Kentuckian! After that, I quickly went to grab that purse since it was down the street. They gave me the same purse, just with a different button. All good though, I am just glad the button works. The lady that works there is so sweet. I told her that I would make a post / take pics with it so I did. I will have to share one on here!

Anyway, after I picked up the purse (I'll explain more on those pics later on) I headed to your dad’s office. I had some work meetings, and have been working through a few projects. All in all today was productive enough. I would like to try and get a couple things a little more situated by tomorrow. Your dad let me work in his office again since he was primarily in the conference room. He has been so kind to let me use the FJ and his office. I really appreciate it, so much. We also grabbed lunch and had some really great conversation. I love that I have such great relationships with both of your parents, but I just wish you were here to share these moments with me, and them. We all love you and miss yuo so much. 

After your dad’s I headed to your mom’s house to relax before we went out to dinner. This was when I took the pictures of myself with the purse. The weather kept changing though, so it was very windy, then rainy, then thunder-y, then windy again. It was funny to do that little photoshoot with it all going on.  Unfortunately the waterline broke at the OG place we were planning on going to. We ended up going to a different pizza place instead that was owned by the same company. It was delicious! So good that honestly I was skeptical that it was even gluten free. VERY impressed with it. Your aunt was kind enough to grab my race package for this weekend so I wouldn’t have to tomorrow. I still haven't decided if I want to run it or walk it. Maybe I’ll do a combo. Just really depend son the hives. I am so over these damn hives. 

After that we came home and I almost ate the entire pizza. I had to stop myself, cause honestly, this was like a two person pizza. In hindsight, I love to eat so that's a good sign. Instead of finishing the pizza I had a little bit of this YUMMY banana bread your mom made. So sweet. 

I couldn't believe the sunset tonight. I was so excited. Honestly, I could live here. I love it here so much. I think the main thing is its just not the same without you. I told myself that I am making no big moving decisions until next summer, cause I need to weigh out my options. I am in process of one very big one (that LLC) and working on those partnerships. I am excited for what’s to come. I want to continue your legacy, James. You live on through me and those who loved and adored you. 

I am supposed to be up early to walk the arboretum with Finley, is I need to go to bed. It’s getting late. 

Life is precious, and you were rare. I was so lucky to get to love you and know you like I did. Through it all. 

Rest in Peace, James Burton Nichols

Love you. 

10/1/1993 - 7/16/2022

[ellayuki]

22042022 - 9-1-1

out of the blue (and not entirely welcome)

~

There’s a knock on the door that makes Buck frown in confusion.

Christopher’s just finished his homework, and Eddie should be on his way home from his session with Frank, and as far as Buck knows, neither of them are expecting anyone today.

Still, he goes to answer the door.

And is met with the disapproving faces of Ramon and Helena Diaz.

“Buck?” Helena says by way of greeting. “What are you doing here?” And she sounds so much like he’s the one who arrived unexpectedly and unannounced at their door, that it makes Buck’s hackles rise. For a split second, he wishes he could shut the door in their faces, but manages to stop himself from actually going through with it. 

He clears his throat, steps back when Eddie’s parents make their way inside as though they own the place. “Watching Chris while Eddie’s running an errand,” he answers as he closes the door. He has no clue if Eddie told his folks he’s going to therapy, but he’s not going to be the one to inform them, in case they don’t know. “He should be home any minute now.”

The Diazes make themselves at home in Eddie’s living room, leaving their suitcases by the door (and Buck raises an eyebrow at that, because Eddie has definitely not mentioned his parents coming to LA), and turn to him with identical searching (and judging) looks. 

Helena tugs on her sleeves, straightening them, and she looks ready for a fight. “Well-” she starts, and Buck decides he doesn’t feel like putting up with whatever nonsense she’s about to say, so. “I’ll go let Chris know his grandparents are here,” he says, and turns away before she can open her mouth.

When he reaches Chris’s room, the boy is already halfway to the door, a small frown on his face. “Buck? I thought I heard the door. Is dad home?”

Buck breathes for a second, and hopes this day doesn’t turn into a shitshow. “Not yet, Chris,” he says, and crouches down to Christopher’s level. “Your grandparents are here, though.”

Chris’ frown deepens where Buck would have thought it would vanish and turn into a smile. “Why?”

Why, indeed. Honestly? Buck doesn’t like the timing of this little visit. “I don’t know, bud. They probably missed you a lot and wanted to see you. Let’s go greet them, okay?”

Chris nods, but he still hesitates a bit. “Does dad know they’re here?”

Buck stands up, wipes a hand down his face. “Not yet. I’ll text him to let him know, so he won’t be blindsided when he gets home.”

“Good.” Chris nods. He walks out of his room then, without his crutches (and Buck can already hear Helena’s opinion on that), and Buck takes a moment to pull out his phone, thumbs through to his text thread with Eddie.

‘Hey,’ he writes, and doesn’t wait for Eddie to answer. ‘Were your parents meant to be visiting today?’

It takes a moment. ‘No? My parents? No, why?’

Buck bites his lip. Eddie’s usually so damn exhausted after therapy, he doesn’t need to have to deal with Ramon and Helena on top of that. ‘They showed up a few minutes ago.’

‘Fuck,’ Eddie says, and yeah, Buck can totally see this day going to shit. ‘I’ll be home in a few. Don’t let them chase you away.’

Hah, as if Buck would leave an emotionally vulnerable Eddie alone with his judgemental parents. ‘As if they could. I’ll be right here. Not going anywhere.’

‘Thanks, Buck.’ 

Buck shoves his phone back in his pocket and takes a few, fortifying breaths. 

And then, he goes back to the living room, smile painted on his face, to play host to Eddie’s parents.

[sukiglycerin]

it’s too cold outside for angels to fly || katsuki bakugou.

* pairing: pro-hero!katsuki bakugou x angel quirk!reader (gender neutral!)

* genre: fluff, angst, actually sfw (wow, luna's can do that?!)

* words: 8.1k (it’s a big baby!)

* warnings: mentions of trauma, reader is insecure but it's not their entire personality, therapy (not a lot of scenes with it), slight intoxication, mentions of throwing up (not much), like one suggestive joke, (light) cussing because bakugou

* original request: All I’m saying is reader with a angel quirk and the reader even has wings AND ANGST (but happy at the end 🥺) WITH BAKUGOU sounds so good 😔 but of course if you don’t want to do that it’s fine no pressure 💕

* a/n: hi 'nonnie! i hope you like you like this! honestly, it turned out longer than i expected (twice the length lol) but i'm proud of this baby. i'd like to note that enko, the nickname bakugou calls reader means 'halo' in japanese and can double down as a name, and an important reminder not to take any advice from the therapy in this fic. i am not a professional therapist, and please seek advice for situations specific to yours. the name of the fic is inspired by a lyric from ed sheeran's 'a-team,' but i promise it's not that dark. thanks so much to @toishi​ and the amazing feedback from @dylanxmin​ for beta-reading this! hope you enjoy!

* synopsis: you were your parents' perfect angel. you listened, and you followed. you didn't become a pro-hero, you stayed inside per your parents' request. it was okay if you couldn't fly; or, at least it was, before katsuki bakugou came along...

your grandmother loved pastries. that’s why you were here, trekking through the cold city in the tokyo winter. you shivered everytime your feathers came in contact with the frigid air, as if they, too, cowered under the looming shadows of tall buildings and bright lights.

so many people roamed the sidewalks, yet any bodily warmth was gone. you regretted not buying a cover for your wings - surely, it'd be an investment despite the price. wing covers were rarely manufactured for your size in japan, mainly aimed for small children just developing a quirk. the extra cloth needed for adult wing covers as well as shipping costs jacked up the price, making you hesitant to buy them. your wings were folded against the outside of your coat (putting them inside gave you cramps), nuzzling against your back subconsciously for heat. your wings were a pale cream colour, slightly more vibrantly mustard-coloured at the tips, and were the most visible part of your quirk.

according to the doctor, your quirk was "angel," but it felt nothing more than a pet name. there was a time in your life that you adorned a halo, but it no longer hovered above you when you looked up now. you weren't granted much power with your quirk; you were barely able to fly with your wings, but maybe you had a stronger moral compass than others? the wings, at this point in your life, were just accessories, as useless as the appendix. they could only cause you pain. you walked mindlessly toward the bakery, snow flurries dotting your hair. the bakery was a rundown, easy to miss place; you would've missed it if you hadn't gone there so many times. the faded yellow paint on the exterior was peeling, the poster on the window ripped and advertising for summer deals from years back. it had only a word-of-mouth reputation to rely on.

there was a worn sticker on the door, right at eye level, which said the name of the bakery in loopy letters: 'the flour road.'

you swung the door open with a jingle, greeted by the scent of baking bread and warmth. the bakery was your grandmother's favorite, specializing in rice cakes and dorayaki. she loved the pastries, for some reason - the baklava especially. she sent you on an errand to buy her some, giving you extra money to buy your personal favorite of dorayaki. to be exact, she pushed the money into your hands and forced you to buy a dorayaki for yourself. it was still warm when the cashier handed you your boxes, which you gingerly put in the bag.

you took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the cold, before you opened the door and found yourself back in the cold winter.

a hand roughly pulled you into an alley, and you found yourself face to face with a masked figure.

"give me your money." the figure pointed to your purse, tugging it.

"i don't- i don't-" you reach to take off your purse, not questioning it. there was simply nothing you could do; besides, the voice was young enough. what if they were simply going through a rough time in life? that was no cause to-

"OI, DUMBASS, WHADDAYA THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" a spiky haired man appeared suddenly, wearing what appeared to be melons on his arms. you suddenly recognized his getup of black, orange, and green; he was a pro-hero. what was his name? zero gravity? zero gr...ass?

"LADY, MOVE ASIDE." he looked you over. "FLY, OR SOMETHING."

"i can't-" but he was already after the thief. it took him less than 30 seconds to capture the thief; he was fast by himself, but was faster when propelled by his explosions.

"well, why are you here still?" he turned to you, the figure from before slung over his shoulder.

"i can't fly," you blurted.

he blinked. "then walk. besides, you literally have-" the figure moaned over his shoulder. "agh, nevermind, gotta take this douche to the police. go home."

the next you see of the explosive melon hero is at a supermarket. his arms are melonless this time, though, and you're not actually sure if he's the melon hero. you only recognize him by his hair and red eyes, but truthfully, it was probably not him. he was muttering something about "the spice not being spicy enough," and "stupid hair-for-brains nagging about the heat."

you felt a finger poke your wings. "hey miss, you have ugly wings." a stubby boy, no more than 5 or 6, looked up at you. smirking, he pushed his own smaller wings out, hands on his hips. "mine are teal-turquoise! yours are boring white."

"uh, okay-"

"mind your damn business, brat. where are your parents?" you could now confirm that the spiky haired man was indeed the melonhero by his voice and vulgarity. melonhero had turned to the kid, standing by your side.

the kid hmphed and walked away, to where his mother scolded him for straying from her.

"you again?" melonhero turned to you. "you really need to learn how to stand up for yourself."

"eh? i was handling it fine!"

"yeah, sure. what’s up with your wings, anyway?" he grunted. "can’t fly?"

"n-no. they're, uh, too weak." it was something hard to admit out loud for you. all winged people could fly, but you couldn't even hover, your wings just flapping up wind.

"too weak?! eh? is that even possible??" he poked one of your feathers. "they seem sturdy enough to me."

you turn your wings away from him, frowning. "it's not that easy. i-i never really had time to learn..."

"isn't that what all kids do in their free time, though? experiment with their quirk?"

"my parents thought it was useless..." you shuffled your feet awkwardly, eyes downcast.

"WORTHLESS?!" you flinched at his sudden volume. "it's your quirk, though, 'wings'?"

you rubbed the back of your neck. "well, not really... it's...." angel. the word echoed in your mind, under the spotlight on a stage. it stared at you in an empty auditorium. 'angel.' the word had negative connotations for you. to others, it was a sweet, innocent nickname, but to you, it meant more.

it represented the weight of your parents' expectations, the burden of your classes' assumptions. it became a ball and chain, reminding you of who you were, who you were supposed to be, and who you could never become. you were your parents' angel, your parents' little light. nothing else.

"'angel,' eh?"

"huh?" did melonhero suddenly manifest a mind-reading quirk? you look at him, but his gaze is above your head.

"halo."

"halo," you repeated, looking dumbly at the flickering ring above you.

"well then, enko, it's nice to meet you," he smirked.

"i'm not enko- i'm y/n-"

"enko’s better. i'm ground zero, the number one pro-"

"melonhero," you blurted.

"HUH?! what's that, moron?!"

"nothing, sorry, continue-" you apologized. what had gotten into you?

ground zero cleared his throat. "-number one pro-hero! ...it's katsuki bakugou to you."

"bakugou, i'm y/n l/n, nice to meet you! oh, and um- where are my manners? -thank you for the other day."

"don't go giving your purse to random men on the street, dumbass."

"it wasn't like that!" you protested. "i mean, what if he was going through a rough time? or, his parents kicked him out-"

"doesn't justify anything. you're so naive," he grunted. "didn't your parents teach you self-defense or anything?"

"w-well, no, not really..." you mumbled. you'd always just been their angel, delicate and thoughtful. you never wanted to disappoint them; always staying inside to clean or cater to their needs. their perfect angel. in their opinion, villains could never touch you if you never went out.

you recalled a time in your youth when deciding on a high school.

"i wanna go to ua!" you'd said. you knew a teacher willing to recommend you, so you didn't need to worry about much.

"honey, no, you can't be a hero..." your father started. "you're an angel, you're our angel, okay?" 

your mom nodded. "it'll be dangerous, angel, and we can't have you getting hurt day after day," she added.

you simply agreed, not wanting to upset your parents. they were always right. being a hero wasn't worth it, anyway, you told yourself. it was an unstable job. you'd entered a private high school near the coast of japan, instead of ua.

"eh?! well, how are you supposed to fend for yourself alone?!" bakugou exclaimed.

"i'm... supposed to stay at home..." you confessed quietly.

"then why are you here?!"

"...i moved away from my family."

"and you didn't learn to protect yourself? get yourself some pepper spray, idiot!" bakugou grabbed your wrist, abruptly leading you to an aisle with pepper spray in it. he briefly paused, then picked one.

"it's on me. i can't have more morons like you to save when you could save yourself." 

"thank you," you said. in all of his vulgarity, bakugou was semi-decent. you wondered why he was so on edge constantly; perhaps it was a trait from being a high-demand hero.

"HEY!" bakugou yelled, making you jump in place. "whatcha smilin' at?!"

you wiped the small grin that subconsciously crept on your face. "n-nothing."

"tch, so quiet, enko." he looked above you. "halo’s gone? fuckin' weird-ass quirk."

"could you... um... nevermind." you originally wanted to ask him to tone down the swearing, but thought better of it. the vulgarity reminded you of your uncle, and you a gagged at the thought of the disgusting man who'd occasionally crash at your family's home completely wasted.

"what? just spit it out," bakugou said. "i don't get offended, unlike deku or something."

"can you... cut down on the swearing?" you ask, then add more quickly when you see his face. "i mean, it's okay if you wanna keep doing it. i can't stop you. y'know, freedom of speech and everything."

"okay," he said with surprising composure. he didn't question the request, instead looking at you intently.

your gaze was set down, trying not to think of your uncle, and the horrors you'd gone through as a child because of him.

"i- um- sorry," bakugou forced out of himself. "i didn't mean t-"

"don't worry," you smiled cheerily. a fake smile, but you tried to convince yourself it was real.

"d'you-" he coughed, "d'you wanna talk about it?" he seemed to be going through something in his mind. "there's a park nearby - god, what did hitomi say? - we can, uh, talk it out? you can vent."

"oh no, it's fine, you're busy, a pro-hero." you said nervously.

"ah- yeah," bakugou seemed to be flustered too. "my therapist though- uh, she's really damn good- i mean, really good-" he pulls out a wallet from his pocket and sifts through cards. "here." he handed you a business card, advertising 'HITOMI YABUKI' in bold.

you blinked at him and accepted the card reluctantly. pro-heroes were really kind at heart, huh? "is she a pro-hero therapist?" you asked.

"her? no, she does other stuff. normal stuff, trauma, quirk stuff, erm- whatever you need. she's an all-rounder."

"oh." you put the card in your pocket. "okay, thank you."

he grunted, accepting the thanks. "need to buy anything else?"

you glanced at your cart. "no, that's all. thanks for everything, bakugou-"

"i'll pay," he blurted. "for it all." he looks surprised at himself, perhaps even angry. "oh, no thank you-"

"i'll do it. i mean it. you didn't even buy much," he muttered.

"o-okay," you said. he snatched your cart from your hand, walking to a self-checkout.

"weren't you gonna buy anything?" you asked.

"eh?!" he grunted while scanning items.

that was the end of the conversation. once he finished, he swiped his card and handed you a bag.

"make sure you use the damn pepper spray."

it was only once you got home that you realized he slipped his number into one of the bags.

you see bakugou again at hitomi yabuki's therapy lobby. he sat casually, earbuds on as he stared at his phone. you debated sitting next to him and decided against it, not wanting to bother him. you didn’t contact his number yet; your hands sweated at the thought. as much as you were tempted, you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of a pro-hero.

you found yourself staring at the man, who was unusually calm at the moment. you stared at his eyelashes, his eyes, down to his nose and lips, and his firm set jaw. your eyes fell to the phone he’s clutching, to the curve of his fingers and uniform nails.

"l/n y/n?" a tall woman called your name. bakugou looked up at you, and for a split second you could see what looked like a genuine smile before it was twisted into a smirk.

"yes!" you stood up and followed her, glancing back at bakugou before he disappeared from your sight. after a short elevator ride, you walked out onto the third floor.

she led you down a short, carpeted hallway to the last door. it was an opaque glass door that said "hitomi yabuki" on a plaque.

"so, what brings you here?" she finally said once the two of you were seated. "um- bakugou?" you said.

she smiled and jotted something down. "is that so?"

"yeah. we met a couple times by accident, and uh, he gave me your business card."

the rest of the session was just introductions - prices, meeting times, and therapy that can be provided. still, you weren’t really sure if you needed the therapy - maybe it’d be suited more for someone else struggling more than you. you didn’t need to use your quirk much; flying wasn’t much your style anyway. what would your parents think if they found out you were taking therapy? they’d surely be hurt, assuming that they didn’t provide a good childhood to you. you could practically hear your mom asking you why you’d waste money on therapy. you took a deep breath as you re-entered the lobby. bakugou was seating in the same place you last saw him, still on his phone. you bid goodbye to the receptionist, thinking out your decisions. your insurance could cover much of the costs for the therapy, but you still wondered if you should spend the money.  these thoughts trailed you as you waited on the sidewalk for a cab, watching your breath billow in front of you.

"hey, enko."

your elbow shot out by instinct, hitting the invader of your thoughts.

"woah, idiot, it’s just me." luckily, bakugou had caught your stray elbow, chuckling to himself. "so the angel does know self-defense, eh?"

you stiffened at the pet name, though you knew bakugou meant well. you could remember each distinctive voice in your childhood. your parents beckoning: angel. your nickname: angel. how everyone saw you: angel. you could never escape it, not with your halo or wings. it was so distinctive, your defining quality. whether he noticed the shift in your posture, he didn’t say. "how was it? hitomi’s great, right?"

you hummed in response, rubbing your wings together for heat.

"are wings supposed to get cold? aren’t they just... feathers?"

your wings ruffled at the comment. you sniffed. "they’re sensitive."

"weird," bakugou muttered under his breath. for a split second, you considered smacking him with your wing, but you stopped yourself before you could execute the instinct.

your cab pulled up by the sidewalk. "that’s my ride." you smiled and waved to him as you entered the car. somewhere during the 15 minute car ride, you mustered up the courage to finally text bakugou.

who knew he was so dirty-minded, anyway? you leaned back in your car seat, exhaling. thankfully, you didn’t text the wrong number or prematurely end the conversation. so, now you were friends with a pro-hero, or so you assumed (friends texted each other, right?). the you from 10 years ago would be jumping for joy at the prospect of befriending a pro-hero, and here you were. you finally booked a therapy session for saturday at 3pm. you checked into the lobby ten minutes early, just as your parents had taught you, and took a seat in the lobby.

when it was finally your turn, you found yourself back in hitomi's office, the familar scent of vanilla and fresh linen wafting in the air.

"i hope you don't mind the scent," she said.

you shook your head. "it's fine." the fragrance was almost reassuring in a way, but you couldn’t pin point it. this time, you allowed yourself to drink in your surroundings. hitomi’s office was spacious, a large window overlooking tokyo’s snow-covered cityscape adding onto the effect. the walls followed a vertical gradient pattern of mint green and light blue decorated with paintings, hanging plants, and wooden shelves yet not in a cluttered way. in the center, against a wall, was a white couch. it had an oddly calming aura to it, as if you'd stepped into a dream outside reality.

"would you like an apple? or some water?" hitomi offered.

you weren’t really in the mood for either, but accepted the water. she gestured for you to sit on the couch.

the meeting consisted of her asking and you answering, the topic changing from family life, to your quirk, to your feelings.

"so, can you explain your quirk to me?" hitomi asked.

"well..." you gathered your thoughts. "obviously, i have wings like an angel. they don’t really do anything, though, just get sensitive to the weather. i used to have a halo when i was young, but it’s faded by now. dunno why. let’s see...." you paused. "i guess i have an inclination to help others? it’s hard for me to say no to things, honestly."

"is it because of your quirk?"

"probably," you admitted. "i’ve always been like this, i think."

"can you fly with your wings?"

"no." you sipped your water. "i guess i never learned. i’d try, but i don’t think they can support my body weight."

"how do you feel about your quirk?"

you shrugged, but then regretted it. you didn’t want to seem insensitive to all the quirkless people who could only wish for a quirk. "it’s- it’s cool, i guess. it makes me unique..." you thought back to your parents’ words, how they’d praised you for such an amazing quirk. when you used to feel bad about your quirk, they’d always remind you that there were children who’d wish to even have a quirk at all, and that you were special. your mother’s quirk allowed her to shine small rays of light through her fingertips, while your dad’s quirk gave him a wing attached to his left arm. it was pretty much useless for anything other than generating wind, considering he didn’t have a right wing to balance him out. their quirks together worked out just right to create you, their perfect angel. hitomi jotted something on her notepad.

the more you thought of it, the more you felt broken. you'd been doing therapy with hitomi for months now, and it had gotten harder and harder to emotionally process. your parents, your family, your quirk; you now saw the things for what they were.

your parents had used you. you were their doll, their perfect obedient angel, and it disgusted you. your hands felt tainted, your wings heavy weights on your back. you were revolted by yourself; looking in the mirror, you couldn't help but gag, seeing not the you of now, but the you of the past looking back at you. you couldn't sleep; tossing and turning and ruffling your wings in frustration. you couldn't stop thinking about your parents, how they restricted you from everything.

you wondered how it'd be different if your parents were better. you wondered if you'd gotten into ua and strengthened your quirk. you wondered how your reputation as a pushover would change. maybe you'd be a hero right now, helping others instead of being so irreparably broken.  you could hear the catcalls from your classmates like bullets beating your wings. angel, the goody-two-shoes who couldn't say no.

not once did you cry. maybe you felt too disgusted by yourself. maybe bakugou was becoming the best friend you'd ever had.

he was there for you. making spicy curry or those awful, equally spicy instant korean noodles - he was there for you, in the same way milk is there for you when eating a particularly spicy dish. he listened to you, and you did the same for him. you laughed and joked together. somehow, in such a dark time, your friendship bloomed. it was strange, really. his reputation as a hero made him out to be aggressive and careless - and while he could brash in word choice at times, you knew he had a good heart. at one point, you’d even opened up to him about your past.

"then deku just completely f- messed up the mission! i could’ve blown up the damn guy, but he had to play mr. goody-two-shoes and just tie him up. and he got all the interview time. what’s even up with that?!"

he talked about his friends a lot. he'd deny his relationship with them being something other than strictly professional, but the way his crimson eyes would deepen gave it all away. he mainly spoke of deku and red riot (though their names would be referenced in cruder ways).

"what if- what if i was a hero?" you asked suddenly.

bakugou lifted an eyebrow. "you'd be a damn good hero if you could manage your quirk. like hawks."

"you think the public would like me?"

"duh. you're pretty, kind, AND fight villains? pretty badass. hell, if i approve of you, anyone would."

you smiled.

"why, though?" bakugou asked.

"curious. i, um, used to want to be a hero. growing up."

"your quirk has potential." bakugou leaned back on the couch. "why didn't ya become one?"

"parents." you flinched as the word passed your lips. thinking about your parents was painful, as if you had to rip off a month old bandaid before you could even get their faces into your mind. "they just... worried," you said. you didn't say anything else.

"betcha couldn't come up with a hero name as damn awesome as ground zero." "i could barely remember it," you teased.

"though, i must say, i do like enko as a hero name. it's like i'm joining an idol group."

"akb48 has nothing on you though,"  bakugou said.

you flushed. "i-i don't think you've looked at them properly, then."

"nah, i have, ochaco's obsessed with idol groups. don't doubt me, enko~" his voice was dangerously close, but he hadn't moved an inch from his original spot. "you're prettier than all the idols combined. tch, how low do you think my standards are?!"

"they're idol groups, bakugou, they practically rely on visuals!"

"eh? who cares? you've beaten them in looks and personality."

the thing about bakugou was that he was always completely honest with his thoughts. his integrity always amazed you, but then again, he was a pro-hero. you were quick to change the subject. "um- then-- what time is it? it must be getting late. i should get home-"

bakugou frowned. "it's late, idiot. eat before you go. i have some leftover tonkatsu and rice, and i can whip up the miso-"

"n-no, it's fine bakugou, you don't need to-"

"idiot, i can't have you starve to damn death on the ride home. eat."

even if you wanted to protest, you couldn't. bakugou's cooking was always to good to pass up, alarmingly spicy or not.

"the rice is still warm in the rice cooker," bakugou finally said, turning towards the kitchen. he knew you'd follow him, and you did.

bakugou busied himself making some instant miso soup and reheating the tonkatsu. you prepared yourself for the spicy of bakugou's tonkatsu; you'd had it once before, and it was quite painful. finally done, bakugou sat to the side of you eating tonkatsu as well, seasoning his with extra chili flakes. he was positively crazy; how did he handle such spice?

you cut yourself a strip and brought it to your lips. the tonkatsu was surprisingly tame for bakugou's cooking; it could've passed for normal restaurant tonkatsu.

"thish ish good," you said in between bites.

"i know," he gritted out, but he looked proud. "would be better with chili."

you shook your head, smiling. "never in a million years."

it was often you thought of this moment. it was so happy, so complete. it was just you and bakugou, simply being. right now, a genuine smile was something you couldn't curl your lips into, no matter how hard you tried. when you did, the taste of something salty crept into you mouth.

something salty...?

you touched your face. it was wet. your head spun, and then it dawned on you: you were crying. you were crying? your eyes focused, and pain throbbed in your head. lights shone too bright on you, heightening your headache, and a foul taste lingered in your mouth. you were suddenly aware of something solid in your hand: a drink.

something else you were aware of was how much you wanted to go home. you could barely remember what led you to a club as you fumbled in your purse for your phone, glancing at the time and unlocking the screen. all you needed to do was go home. you really wanted to go home, but where was home? home was gone. home...

a fresh wave of tears glossed your face, and you ignored the person next to you's advances. you didn't even know why you were crying. you struggled to read your contacts, dizzy, and called the first one you can make out with your hazed vision.

bakugou.

yes, all you wanted right now was bakugou. you wanted him and his warm arms, his endearing words. you wanted him so bad. you wanted him, and his warmth, and his happiness. you wanted his scent of comfort, the smile that made you feel fuzzy. you wanted his voice to shelter you precisely at that moment, you wanted to feel like it was him and you against the world.

"dumbass? hello? where are you? why is it so freaking loud? enko?"

you hadn't realized that a low quality projection of his voice was speaking on your phone.

"b-bakugou," you said, though it came out hoarsely. "bakugou."

"enko? where are you, and why are you calling at ass o'clock in the morning?"

"miss you," you almost said, but instead it came out as "dunno, you," a mix between "dunno" and "miss you."

"eh? where are you?"

you shrugged. "come here."

"send me your location, moron, and stay where you a-"

you hung up to send him your location.

you yawned and rubbed your forehead. everything was loud, everyone was together. and you were alone. it made you sad. you wanted to have somebody. a voice in the back of your head told you that you had bakugou. did you? right, he was coming. did you tell him to come?

you pressed the call button again.

"what is it?" bakugou asked roughly.

"lonelyyyy..." you moaned. "pick me up, baku...."

"idiot, i'm on my way. why the fuck are you so far from where you live?"

"hmm mmmhm," you strung together sounds. "'m sad."

"don't be." he sounded mad. he always sounded mad.

"why are you always mad at me?" you pouted.

"i'm not, dumbass! i'm pulling in."

"hmmm...!"

bakugou almost tore through the door with rage. "ENKO, GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE."

you hopped toward him, wobbling a bit. the floor seemed to turn under you. enko! that was you! right?

"bakuuugoooou~" you cooed, flopping into his arms. "let's sleep."

he smelled nice. his scent enveloped you, a mix of vanilla and caramel that you’d grown so accustomed to.

he stiffened. "dumbass, i can smell the alcohol on you, we’re going the fuck home."

"don’ wanna," you whined. "lonely. wanna be with youuuuu..." you nuzzled more into his chest, finding comfort in his body warmth. you didn’t want to let go, ever. "tch, fine."

the car ride to bakugou’s place was uncomfortable. cars spun by you, lights making you woozy. you almost bashed your head on the dashboard. your seat was uncomfortable, the seatbelt itched you. despite all that, you stopped to stare at bakugou in your daze, all serious and set on the road. he had nice biceps, and his side profile was a sight for sore eyes (see also: your eyes).

"what, enko?" he grunted, glancing at you.

you said the first thing that came to your mind. "you know you smell nice?"

"huh?" he glanced at you, turning in to his driveway.

well, there was no going back now. "you smell like caramel... and vanilla... it’s nice..." you sighed happily, imagining the fragrance.

bakugou didn’t reply, instead parking and unlocking the doors. "get out, dumbass, it’s past your bedtime."

"but i don’t haaaaaave a bedtime," you slurred, stumbling out of the car. bakugou mumbled a complaint before hoisting you over his shoulder. it was probably not the best move, considering the blood rushing to your head made you feel sick. after entering his house, bakugou set you down on a sofa, sitting you upright.

"stay here."

you leaned back on the sofa, feeling suddenly empty. the buzz in your head had not quite left, but the weight of the world came crashing down again. therapy, your parents, your quirk. it struck you that you were probably bothering bakugou and disturbing his sleep; he was a pro-hero after all, lives depended on his health. but here you were, ever so selfish and probably taking a toll on his health.

"drink." you hadn't realized bakugou had put a glass of water in your hands. you simply nodded and gulped it down, hoping to sober yourself up.

you stared at the man glossy eyed, glass in your hand half empty. "bakugou."

"eh?"

"sorry."

"for what?"

"y'know... waking you up... bothering you... i know you're busy, and-"

"shut up, it doesn't matter. i'd rather you here than in the hands of some douche at the club."

"but still, how would i make it up-"

"by sleeping well. off to bed you go."

he started pushing you towards the hallway. "where will you sleep?"

"sofa."

"but bakugou-"

"go to bed."

"i feel sick-"

"hah?"

a rising sensation of bile emerged in your throat. the only words you could get out of your mouth was "bathroom," before you rushed in. it was not a pretty sight - you preferred to skim over the details when recalling it. the details you did not skim over, however, were that of bakugou's care; for being awoken at ungodly hours in the morning, he was surprisingly gentle with your vomiting state, soothing your stomach with warm hands and rubbing your back. after, he gave you a glass of water and forced you to take ibuprofen, though you swore you felt fine.

bakugou's bed was surprisingly comfortable. then again, bakugou did claim to have gone to bed at 8:30 sharp daily during his high school years, so it made sense he still valued sleep.

you were then reminded how you disrupted his.

and how you were now forcing him to sleep on the sofa.

you padded out of his room, wearing one of bakugou's old shirts that he'd graciously lended you, to the living room. he was laying on his back, feet sticking out of the sofa, eyes closed.

"what?" he asked, eyes still shut.

you knew he wouldn't let you feel guilty about intruding his sleep, so you settled upon saying the next best thing. it was partially true, anyway.

"'m lonely without you." your voice came out smaller than intended.

"huh?" he sat up, groggily looking at you.

"it's- kinda cold, and y'know, with your quirk..."

he grunted and obliged, walking toward his bedroom. you stood behind him, staring at his back; that was surprisingly easy.

bakugou slept with his arms around you, so you were nestled comfortably into his chest. this position felt strangely domestic; something lovers might do nightly. but you and bakugou weren't lovers, you were friends. image of you and bakugou involved romantically faded into your mind; coffee shop dates, cooking together, waking up next to each other. there was a sudden loss of breath in your chest, as if your heart had become weightless and was lifted by a thousand of butterflies taking flight. bakugou... romantically? it hadn't crossed your mind. still, you could see it so vividly in your mind; you, becoming his dumbass, his and his only. you could imagine how he'd look at you, full of love in his eyes, and how he'd gently kiss your forehead in the morning. was it so bad to want that? the more your thoughts indulged you, the more his body warmth drowsed you, his calm breathing adding to the effect. he was practically nyquil in human form. you found yourself nodding off in his arms, not before mumbling a quiet "what if i liked bakugou?" and clutching his shirt closer to you.

you were far too engrossed in the realm of sleep to hear bakugou's faint but hopeful reply of "i'd hope so, dumbass."

at your next therapy meeting, you told hitomi about bakugou. it was unplanned, spilling out of your mouth as soon as she asked why you looked so anxious. you couldn't like bakugou. you blamed your slightly intoxicated past self for planting such a thought in your brain, but you knew it just admitted a lingering feeling from in your heart. you spared her the details of the throwing up and the guilt that gnawed at you regarding how bakugou cared for you.

"it's... childish, right? like an old schoolgirl crush," you flushed, finishing your confession.

hitomi shook her head. "it's good to feel this way, actually. it's quite healthy for a twenty-something like you to harbour such feelings; it allows you to explore your feelings and relationships healthily."

even so, crushing was so damn frustrating. it's one thing to like a person; it's a completely different experience after admitting to yourself, yes, they're my crush. when you were younger, you very rarely developed crushes (as influenced by your parents) and even less were able to act on them. but now, as an adult, you had the freedom to act (or not, considering how your nerves constantly started to act up around bakugou). you decided to push the feelings down; you were just friends, and bakugou had no time to pursue a romantic relationship.

if having a crush was like an addiction, rehab was torture for you. gone were the days of seeing bakugou as platonic; you couldn't stop your heart from swelling whenever he recounted his day to you. bakugou had now become attractive, from his tight, bulging muscles to his hard chest. it did not help that you had to see him in his hero costume flaunting those features every other day on the news.

you convinced yourself bakugou harboured nothing but platonic sentiment for you, but he never failed to send your heart aflutter with discreet compliments he hid under rough comments. you started leaving early whenever the two of your hung out under the guise of other plans (that in reality didn't exist), and tried to always cut conversations short when you bumped into each other in public. he was ground zero, pro-hero, and you were just a civilian who could barely maintain their quirk.

you were just starting your quirk therapy, but you couldn't expect major changes a week in. bakugou had said your wings looked brighter, but you assumed he just said that to make you feel better. you could hover off the ground for less than a second now, but your wing strength lacked too much to be able to do anything requiring more strength. your halo was still absent, and you couldn't figure out how to make it reappear. there hadn't been much research done on the essence of halos; hitomi said not to worry about it regardless.

flap flap flap.

"oi, dumbass, you're gonna create a tornado in here."

flap flap flap.

"i'm practicing flying."

"well, you're going nowhere. d'you want me to call hawks or something?" flap flap flap. 

you turned to bakugou, folding your wings neatly. he had the same expression as always, slightly disapproving and tired. your eyes meet his momentously; but they fall down immediately to his lips. lately, this kind of thing had been happening often. bakugou acted like he didn't notice you'd been different lately, but you could tell he wanted an explanation.

you acted on your impulse, your mouth opening and words tumbling from your mouth.

"bakugou- idon'twanttoruinourfriendshipbutijustwannasayitnow- ilikeyou."

"what?" why did you do that?

if this were a texting conversation, you'd leave him on read. if this was a tweet, you'd make your account private. if this was a video call, you'd end it.

alas, this was real life, so you resorted to the next closest thing: you ran. you ran faster than any shoujo girl and with more conviction than any shounen boy, and then you were lost. damn cities.

panting on the sidewalk, wings heaving up and down, you realized what you did. staring at the edge of the pavement, where the curb met the street, hands on your knees, it hit you.

you cussed and yelled at yourself mentally, and though a small part doubted bakugou even heard you, you didn’t allow yourself to have hope. it was game over. you let your feelings override rational thought, and you ruined what was arguably the best thing going on in your life.

you were interrupted by an itch in your feathers from being so cramped while folded. they ruffled against the cool air, distraught. you stretched them out, observing your surroundings and allowing yourself to cool down. the breeze was a satisfying sensation against your feathers, and you hovered just a moment when they flapped.

"mommy, wings!" a kid passes you on the sidewalk, pointing. his mother hushes him, but you smile at him.

the next few days were rough, particularly because you were avoiding bakugou. it was definitely not a good idea, but it was a temporary patch over the open part of your heart.

this was not one of your healthy coping mechanisms.

did he text you? did he call you? you didn’t know, because you turned off your notifications. you knew you were just making things more awkward, even more so if he hadn’t heard you at all. it gave you all the more excuse to ignore him longer.

now, with evenings to yourself, your mind wandered more. your thoughts drifted into a vast desert of tangled constellations in your mind, tightropes you’d tread that would lead you to a random destination. sometimes it led you to random memories - other times, it wasn’t as random, leading you to painful manifestations in your heart. these were the things you tried so hard to ignore, but rang so true.

you were reminded by the constellations in your mind that you were being terribly selfish to bakugou; not even considering his feelings. bakugou didn't deserve you. maybe stars twinkled in your mind, but the bluest ones burned you to the touch. you needed to get over bakugou.

that wasn’t to say it didn’t hurt, trying to get over bakugou. the stars in your mind dimmed, and perhaps, at one point, the constellations were reduced to thread; knotted, tangled, and hopeless.

maybe it was better when the string had been unkempt, because now it unraveled. you cried, and cried; in the shower, at your desk, doing chores. tears, hot and sharp like newly shapen diamonds, dripped down your face. your face was permanently marked by the wounds the diamonds left, and contrary to the stars, your eyes were red and hot. your thoughts unwound like string - there was a clear pathway now, but it was tainted by the shape of the knots there had once been.

everything hurt when you thought of bakugou. your swollen eyes became lifeless as memories of him overtook you. they controlled you. you missed therapy session after session, too scared to go to the place which bakugou had connected you to. sometimes, you’d sprawl across the ground, stare into your ceiling, and feel yourself vanish into something, a dark void of nothingness. he had cared so much for you - too much. why had he? why couldn’t he have left you, that one day you were almost robbed? why couldn’t you just have stayed the way you were? why did you have to find the truth in things? ignorance was a bliss you woke yourself from. ignorance, the dream which from you woke to find a nightmare, reality. why did he have to be him, the stupid pro-hero with a heart that bled kindness into yours? why couldn’t he have stayed a two-dimensional public figure, the careless and angry ground zero? why did he have to be in your goddamn life and ruin it, entangle everything into one big mess? you hated him. you hated him and his stupid endearing insults, him and his rugged smirk that pained your heart so, him and his eyes that held sparks and diamonds and you. deep inside, you knew it wasn’t true; hate was just a name for an indefinably strong feeling you had for him. you knew you didn’t hate him, you knew you couldn’t hate him. you told yourself you did to distance yourself from him. the distance between you and he only grew. your memories were tarnished with pain, his image blurry and wrinkled in your eyes. katsuki bakugou was just someone, no one.

this was the feeling of agony, this was the sight of pure hell, and this was the sound of you burning your heart. distance between you and the man named katsuki bakugou grew, as did your descent into pure madness.

until the distance between you and he was less than a metre.

you had not bothered to tame your hair; it was a bit overgrown and sprouted a couple split ends. you were dressed in a stained shirt, your face not even mentionable, and your heart was beating in your ears. you felt yourself dragged quite forcefully down to sanity, as if opening the door suddenly put gravity into effect.

because here he was, katsuki bakugou in all of his perfect glory, standing on your doorstep.

the little shit refrained from making a comment about your current state, but you could see the comment appearing in his eyes and vanishing as soon as it came. you watched his eyes go from the state of your face down to your unkempt attire. he, on the other hand, looked unaffected. he was sporting a t-shirt and jeans, hands shoved into his pockets. the only indicator, which was minuscule at best, that he had changed at all was the red at the corners of his eyes and slight eyebags. he looked shocked at the sight of you.

"y/n..." you almost fainted on the spot.

you weren’t not jumping for joy in ecstasy at the sight of him, and you didn’t feel like a shoujo protagonist at the moment. it was something different.

"again," but your voice was too hoarse to be heard. your mouth opened and closed, you coughed, and repeated yourself. "s-say it again."

"huh?!" it was nice to know someone hadn’t changed after all that time.

"my- my name..."

"eh? enko."

you sighed, your face indifferent. you weren’t exactly disappointed by his reply; it brought memories upon memories of happier times with him.

"well, what do you want?" you asked, rubbing the side of your face.

"what- what the fuck is going on?" he gestured to you. "i should be asking about you. what the f- what happened to you?!"

"i-"

"enko, i don’t get any of this shit. this relationship crap. what do you want me to do?! first, you act weird as shit- because of what?! i don’t fuckin’ know. you avoid me - don’t think i didn’t notice - and then suddenly you spew shit and leave?! i don’t see you for a goddamn week, you don’t answer your damn calls or texts, and suddenly i’m the damn villain and i’m supposed to give you time or shit to figure things out, and when i can finally fucking see you, you look like actual crap?! hell, i should be the one with deteriorating mental health with all of the bull you put me through! if you want something, if you don’t wanna be friends or shit, just goddamn say it to my face! i’m not good with people, enko, goddamnit! tell me what’s wrong!"

you stood in shock. relationship..? you shook his words away. you hadn’t realized how much this took a toll on bakugou, too. he looked away - something glinted in his eyes, but you couldn’t tell exactly what.

"god-fucking-damnit," he grumbled. "...are ya gonna let me in, or what?! it’s cold out here!"

you didn’t think about how bakugou’s quirk involved producing heat, and let him in unreluctantly, stepping aside. "sorry," you mumbled.

he took off his shoes, and you motioned for him to sit down on your couch.

"explain it to me," he demanded. "what in the goddamn world has happened tot you? did someone do this to you?!"

you refrained from saying technically, it was you, and settled on: "no." it was apparent he hadn’t heard you that day. "just- it’s nothing. i was being stupid, a-and i’m okay now." it was a lie.

"do you take me as an idiot?" he asked. gears shifted in his eyes. "sit down," he said, suddenly calm.

you did so, sitting as farthest as you could from him.

"closer," he gritted out. you scooted a centimetre. "closer." another centimeter. "clo-ser." he pulled you so you were sitting angled toward him, knee brushing his.

"baku...gou?" so many questions flashed in your mind.

"confirm something for me," he ordered. "what exactly did you say to me before running away?"

"i- nothing. it was nothing, i told you, bakugou."

"tell. me. i don’t care if you quoted freud, told me a failed joke, or what. tell me."

your mind was devoid of possible jokes you could use to lie.

you opened your mouth, forcing the words out with all your might. "i don’t remember the specifics," you rambled. "i don’t think i was in the right state of mind-"

"spit it out."

"i think it went something like ‘i like you’ or something?" your pitch rose with every syllable.

"tch," a smile was on his face. "thought so." his hand was suddenly on your cheek, and his lips were on yours. he tasted like caramel. your eyes widened, and you pulled away, sputtering.

"what? what d’you mean, ‘thought so’?!"

"idiot, i like you too. also, when did you last brush your teeth?"

"i- that doesn’t matter. bakugou... i don’t think that this relationship is good for us. as friends or whatnot."

"huh? why not?"

"look at me. look at you. i can barely handle my quirk, and you’re a pro-hero who uses his quirk to help people. i can’t really do anything."

he mumbled something under his breath. "enko, do you think i care about any of that? i don’t care if you have the strongest quirk in the world or none at all. you’re strong - and i don’t say this ‘cause i like you - you’re kind, you see the best in people." he paused. "people don’t give me the time of day ‘cause they think i’m too irrational. brash. careless. but you? you see past that, you don’t care. you work hard no matter what people say. people-" his voice caught in his throat, "people say shit to you, and you don’t care. you keep going."

he saw you... like that? your face heated up.

"don’t be gettin’ all shy on me," he grunted. "tch. come here." he pulled you in for a hug, his arms wrapping around you and narrowly avoiding your wings. you flushed, holding him tight and inhaling his caramel scent. you squeezed your eyes shut, wishing to hold him like this forever.

“hey, enko,” he whispered into your ear. you looked at him, who was currently looking up and pointing. “halo.”

[ct-7386]

[My art tablet lives! And I have been playing in the art sandbox >:) Also, as I've rped with Wren, I've learned a bit more about him that I wanted to edit/include. So, here ya go ^^]

BIO

Designation/Name(s): CT-7386, 86, Wren

Rank: Corporal

Title: Communications Technical Specialist: Translator

Age: First Generation Clone (roughly same age as Rex)

Other: He/Him, Asexual

PERSONALITY

Wren: Wren is slightly withdrawn and awkward in social interactions with his vode, but he is also playful and caring. He desperately just wants to turn all of his vode into blanket burritos to keep them safe. Wren will do literally anything to he can to make his vode happy and safe. The ori'vod is strong in this one.

86: 86 has a massive guilt complex. He still tries to do anything he can to keep the others happy and comfortable, but it's more because he feels it's a way to make up for his mistakes than because it makes him happy when they're happy. 86 is even more awkward and unsure of himself, and he doesn't trust himself with any of the younger clones.

BACKGROUND (SHORT)

Oldest and last of an experimental batch

Deployed for the First Battle of Geonosis where he suffered from Noise-Induced Hearing Loss (NIHL); quick thinking and quicker talking kept him from decom and got him two cochlear implants to help him hear again

Assigned to the Coruscant Guard once his therapy was complete

Chose the name Wren after much therapy and emotional healing thanks to his vode

LIKES/DISLIKES

Likes:

Flower horticulture

Talking to Bail Organa

Connecting with his vode

Learning new languages

Feeling useful

Dislikes:

Corporal Cory [another oc]

Feeling useless

Music

The dark

SKILLS

Flower growing - He can grow just about anything

Languages - He speaks nearly 3 dozen, knows various Morse variants (including Mando'a dadita and clone didi) and can sign almost as many as he speaks

Acquisition - He can get his hands on just about anything using his connections amongst the natborns in the Senate Building

EXTRAS

Has a greenhouse hidden somewhere in the Guard HQ that no one else knows about

Because he's hardly ever seen HQ (he's either working, sleeping, or in the greenhouse), hardly any of the vode, including the officers, know who he is even though he's been there for so long (he's fallen through the cracks, so to speak, but he uses that to his advantage)

Has two cochlear implants hidden by his hair

100% deaf in right ear, 80% in left (w/out the implants)

Hyperthymesia: 'an ability that allows people to remember nearly every event of their life with great precision'

Works as a translator in the Senate Rotunda all day every day

Doesn't wear his helmet, elbow guards, or hand plates while he's working so that he can sign easier/more visibly (the commanders don't know about this because h never cleared it with them)

Because of the above, he's the best known/recognized clone to the people in the Senate Building besides Fox himself (and the GAR poster boys Rex and Cody)

Works so closely with so many natborns that he was able to start cultivating them as 'sources' for his underground dealings

Deals in information, contraband, and favors

[There are a couple dark tidbits under the cut, just to be safe. TW: thoughts of suicide; prostitution? sorta?]

Before the fight with Cory that brought him to Fox's attention, 86 was reaching the end of his rope; he was beginning to think about suicide

Most of his deals with the natborns are simple trades of information, exotic flowers, and favors (i.e. retrieving/collecting blackmail material; running errands; ferrying other illegal/dubious items around the Rotunda; etc.). However, if he needs to get ahold of something more valuable and/or the natborn in question is more corrupt, Wren/86 will trade himself

The above is his darkest secret, and he will do a lot to make sure his vode, especially Fox who despises natborns so vehemently, never learn of his shame (he does it all for them)

[violet-dragongirl]

you know with the lack of affordability for mental healthcare, to the way a lot of us, both with mental health issues and friends who may deal with a friend who has mental health issues, I come back to that post of sympathy has an expiration date, but I also think (callously I admit), that even with therapy as a sliding scale and with the scheduling issues that come into effect, sometimes I feel like the statement to aggressively tell people to "go to therapy" has it's limits as well and also is just generally...not good.

I say this out of experience and observation mostly, and while it may have it's solidification of a quick solution to an immediate mental problem, it's stil lreally harmful for both myself and yes my friends

So I have a question:

Who do you go to in between sessions when a sudden flare of anxiety, depression, or a psychotic episode?

It can't be your friends right? At some point they're going to have too much to handle.

So then you call your therapist for an earlier day...if you've concluded that as big as a flare it was, it's "not that bad"

And IF they're even available to that earlier reschedule.

So it's an emergency, or you've declared it as such.

How much of an emergency is it? Is it enough to warrant calling your therapist directly and pleading for a session at that moment? Would it be enough for a hotline be able to directly connect to the emphasis of the problem and not make it feel so disconnected because there's an entire history you probably would need to tell them, or can't tell them?

And the worst of the choices: having to call 911 because it's just that available.

I haven't even listed the extreme costly risks for each choice one could make with a flare up like that.

So again:

Who do you go to in between sessions when a sudden flare of anxiety, depression, or a psychotic episode?

But there's another thing you're probably thinking:

"What about the "What" of that solution? You know, coping mechanisms!"

I would agree, and that could and should be your next step! I've most certainly done it before--including the "How" "Where" "When" and even the "Why It's All Happening At The Worst Time"...

...when it was available to have an immediate effect.

I think of the times when I had so many mental illness flares in a string of a couple of weeks that I went to what I can do to cope for the time being with the least and most minimal amount of risk involved (yeah some of us DO have to weigh the pros and cons of just Going Outside, Sandra). And I would have about 2 to 3 coping mechanisms ready for such a thing...

...but the flare was too great.

The most I've been able to do is sleep when I can, and If I can't, due to being outside or in a public area or just not being at home and on an important errand, I was indeed in serious trouble. Because then my whole body would get exhausted, and if I was in the middle of important errands and the coping mechanisms that I could carry with me didn't work, passing out, or if I'm lucky, blanking out, has a very high chance of happening--which can lead to embarrassing moments during and after the episode, which can compound and amplify the type of flare I have.

It's a horrifying domino effect for some i bet. I know it would be for me--even if the situation calmed down and people told me "see, it wasn't that bad", making my episode entirely dismissed or some other kind of shameful feeling brought about.

There's also the whole ordeal that within that moment I could wind up in a far worse place than anyone would ever want to be in.

So what I do I do you ask if all else fails?

I bottle it in. I hide it.

I say "it's okay", "I'm fine", "don't worry I'm used to this"

or something along those lines. Just so I won't start anything that would endanger me.

I was told for a good portion of my life to not bottle things up. Look how that turned out--even with the therapy I have now and had in the past.

That's a mess on it's own and I do have opinions about why that is something that I feel like is a massive social and cultural problem due to just the fact that people have limits.

For me, most of the time, when I'm back at square one, when both my coping mechanisms are useless at the time, and when I can't talk about these heavy things to either my friends, parents (goodness forbid for me), or therapists, I'm left figuring it out on my own

Back into the "I have to do everything myself" individualistic kind of thought that can lead to just...well very bad scenarios and ways of thinking (and I've been there before; it's not even remotely a fun place to be).

So now...back at square one...or close to it if not directly back at the question of:

Who do you go to in between sessions when a sudden flare of anxiety, depression, or a psychotic episode?

I wish--I dearly wish I had concrete solutions and answers to this.

I don't.

I really feel like there isn't one just yet and we may have to dig farther in ourselves to find those solutions and answers.

I don't have anyway to conclude this other than, those at home who might relate to anything I said while in a terrible mental episode and have exhausted the mechanisms and channels needed to safely get out of that headspace or manage it better, or mitigate the damage already being done:

Rest while you can. Sleep if you can. And do the best you can, even if it's just reminding yourself of something that can keep those illnesses at bay til you can get the help you need. I wish I could say the exact right thing to you, but even what I said above might sound...hollow. For that, I'm truly sorry.

[sasarahsunshine]

have you moved past cm? i went to your twitter and you post hannibal a lot but you arent on the cm server like at all anymore. if you have mvoed on then maybe give the server to someone else that is active

Hello Anon! I have a couple things to say to this, 1) I’m currently tipsy cos my friends and I were hanging out and I’m finally allowed alcohol after being sober for the last 3 years. So if I seen all over the place or don’t make sense, that why.

2) I’m still VERY active in the CM fandom, but I realize that it might not look like that outwardly since my activity has been taking place in smaller spaces/private DMs with people.

3) My Twitter rn is currently only for Hannibal, but I have been considering making a second one that’s Criminal Minds only. I just don’t know if I’ll be able to jump back and forth between them all the time without mixing them up, lol!

4) I’m not 100% sure what you mean about me not being active in the server? If you mean today (Sunday, May 22nd—even tho it’s the 23rd now whoops), then I wasn’t on Discord at all cos I was busy with real life things. Summer is on the way, quarantine is “over,” and I’m not locked in my home 24/7 anymore. I’m officially finished with my chemo; the benign tumor that was in my brain has shrunk, so I can finally get a job again (I haven’t worked a “real job” since January 2021), and I can hang out with my friends and family again. (I still wear masks when appropriate, and I’m fully vaccinated, but we’re “allowed” to be normal again, you know?).

But I can promise I’ve been in the server every single day, even if only once or twice to check in and make sure everything’s fine. I have a life outside of Discord and Tumblr, too.

Plus I’ve had a new puppy since the beginning of April, and he takes up the majority of my time while I’m training and caring for him. We’re actually about to get him properly trained to be a therapy dog, since my own therapist (and everyone else who meets him) says he would be perfect for it with his calm and friendly personality!

And, also, Twitter is fun. I’ve made new friends, found a fun new community among the Hannibal fandom, and I greatly enjoy how I can check my Twitter feed for only a couple min between my errands and still feel like I’m apart of the “conversations” there. Meanwhile here on tumblr, I need to set aside a whole hour or so for what I do (and I only use tumblr on desktop, for reasons I’ve explained before, unless I’m just checking my notifs).

I’m sorry that you feel I’ve left the fandom, or I’m inactive, but I also think I’m allowed to “take a break” from fandom things if I need to. While the CM fandom was getting a lot of hate anons, harassers, stalkers, and was dealing with A LOT of drama, the Hannibal fandom welcomed me with open arms and the friends I’ve made helped me feel safe while I was still sick and healing.

I have a whole timetable setup with plans for fun Criminal Minds based things I want to do this summer (including celebrations for milestones, watch parties, etc), but I just need to *get* to that point.

Hyperfixations come and go over time. I can’t really control if my fixation for Criminal Minds ends up fading, but I can promise that for now, it’s still going strong! I’m just ALSO having fun with the Hannibal fandom (think of it as my new shiny toy, I guess, lol! Criminal Minds is my favorite and always will be, but it’s exciting to be apart of something new).

Hope I was able to explain. Have a good day/night! <3

[amandadeibert]

A Love Letter to Parents At the End of The Most Difficult School Year EVER

WOW, that was really something, huh?

It’s the end of the most difficult year school for all of us: teachers, parents, students… Hell, probably even the neighbors of parents and students. I would say “at least we survived!” but this has been more than a year of illness and mental health crises… not all of us did. Some of you are mourning those loses. I am so sorry.

As my daughter celebrates her final day of Kindergarten, and I celebrate my final day of supervising hours of zooms and packets full of work, of being her mother, teacher, confidant, chef, maid, PE teacher, and playmate… I have a lot of emotions. I’m sure you do too.

It was hard for those of us who, like my family, spent the entire year in virtual school: never meeting teachers or classmates in person. Those of us who spent so much of the year trying not to worry about excessive screen time while going against our intuition to coax children to sit up and pay attention to their computers.

It was difficult for families who did hybrid and had their bits of in-person “normalcy” sporadicly and suddenly turned to quarantines every time there was an exposure so that there could never be a true routine.

It was complicated for parents navigating this with multiple children who all needed different things at the same time. I know in my daughter’s own little kindergarten class we over-heard older siblings’ music lessons, younger siblings’ infant-wails, and parents trying to deal with their work zooms while 6 year olds struggled to concentrate on learning to read.

My heart especially goes out to the parents of children who need extra attention or services, some of whom lost out on months or a year of in-person therapies. This is unfair and horrible. This has been infuriating, unfair, and horrible. You have been dealing with far more worries than you should have had to and I am so sorry.

And then there’s work… whew. As a working mother who went to work in person in full PPE, then worked from home with endless Zoom meetings while my daughter put Elsa stick-on earrings all over my face, and then who lost my job due to pandemic related situations. I know it was difficult to work and teach and parent and be a child’s only friend and entertainment.

For those of you who are essential, for those of you who work in healthcare and mental healthcare… I just, I can’t even begin to tell you how much I admire you and also know my admiration doesn’t do a fucking ounce of good to help alleviate all you’ve had to juggle and endure.

So much has fallen disproportionality on mothers. We can see it in hard data. This will have ramifications for years to come. Just as it will on our kids… in ways we don’t even fully understand yet. Just while trying to write this essay…. my daughter and our kitten have crawled into my lap. They are both here right now.

And yes, I know plenty of amazing Dads who have been struggling right there with us. My dad-friends and I have leaned on each other TREMENDOUSLY this year, so please don’t think I don’t see you out there struggling through this too.

As I look back over this past school year (and the end of the academic year before) I am feeling sad for the milestones my child didn’t get to have. The things we didn’t experience as planned. The fond farewell to her preschool of 3 years we never had. The kindergarten teacher she never met in person. The first year at an elementary school where we haven’t yet been inside the building. I have so much dread for the coming separation anxiety after more than a year of never being apart. Hers and mine. This was not how things were supposed to be. No matter how you’ve experienced the pandemic, because we’re all doing it differently… this was not what we “planned.” It’s also not something anyone else alive has ever had to deal with before.

I want to stress that again:

No parent alive has ever dealt with anything like this. No one alive has experienced anything like this as a child. Bad things? Yes. Worse thing? Yes, even. But not THIS.

So if your parents/elders are giving unhelpful “advice” about how you should/should have handled things please remember THEY HAVE NO IDEA. None. At all.

This is one area where you can laugh and laugh and be like… “YOU HAD OPEN PARKS AND SCHOOLS AND KIDS COULD GO RIDE THEIR BIKES UNRESTRICTED. YOU COULD GO SIT IN CHURCH AND THE KIDS WOULD BE IN SUNDAY SCHOOL. YOU CAN NOPE RIGHT OFF.” Love them. Love their advice, but they don’t actually know what it is like.

I hope they are offering love and support. I don’t have living parents, but my grandmother is the first to say that even as a stay at home mom whose husband was away fighting a war, she can’t imagine being unable to simply take her kids to school or to run errands, or to let them play with other children. Her situation was very difficult and complicated. I don’t have it worse. Not at all. It’s just that this school year has been one hell of a weird one.

There have been bright spots. I loved getting to watch and experience my daughter learning in real time. Seeing the day-to-day progress and truly knowing what is going on in her classes. Again, that isn’t the experience for parents who have children unable to access their child’s IEP help in the way they should.

I love the extra time we’ve gotten together as a family. The movie nights outside and snuggles and lack of rushing around from place to place. I enjoy as an Angeleno not being stuck in traffic for hours. Not everyone has been able to work from home like my wife and I have mostly been able to do for much of this and I am grateful for that too.

My hope is that when this is truly over, when we get back to whatever new life looks like in the next school year, that some of the good will stay. That I will be more involved in our child’s education than maybe I would have been before because I know what it looks like. That we will spend more time as a family together just us. That I won’t say “yes” to things out of obligation that don’t add value to our lives. That we won’t be too busy.That’s probably naive, but we can sure try.

I hope that you have some bright spots to look back on from this past school year. I hope you can share them with your children and they can share theirs with you. Whatever you had to do to get through this, I am so outrageously proud of you. I am proud of me too. And wow, our kids. They’ve been through some shit. I’m super proud of them.

Please, please take some time to celebrate what you have managed to get through. I got cupcakes for the kiddo and some cocktails for grownups. Please do whatever version of that sparks some happiness.

PUNT THAT SCHOOL-ISSUED LAPTOP INTO THE SUN.

I mean, yeah okay, we’ll all responsibly return it fully charged and be so grateful to the school system that we didn’t have to use Mommy’s work laptop for it but you know… metaphorically it’s that scene from Office Space. (Your kids wouldn’t get this joke but this isn’t for them. JUST LIKE THE COCKTAIL/CHOCOLATE/BUBBLEBATH/WHATEVER YOU ARE GONNA DO TO CELEBRATE YOU )

Anyway, you are amazing. Maybe you don’t feel like many people noticed. I see you. I’m toasting you from this weird half-teacher’s lounge we share.

If you’d like to share some of your brightest spots, or most amazing, brilliant parent hacks from all this madness, I would love to read about it in the comments. We’ve got to hold onto the good.

[romiithebirdie]

Epilogue for the Lost - Chapter 2

Present day.

Inko Midoriya entered her apartment, softly closing the front door behind her after dropping her shopping bags in the hallway. A harsh breeze slapped her bare arms and she shivered, quickly removing her shoes and padding into the living room to close the window that she hadn't realised she'd left open.

Cheerful music rang out in the direction of the kitchen and she immediately followed the sound up towards one of her kitchen worktops. Within seconds, Inko slid her arm across the space and picked up the mobile device with a questioning frown.

UNKNOWN CALLER

Timidly, she pressed the Answer button and slowly put it to her ear;

"Midoriya Residence, may I ask who's calling?"

Her response came from an intangible grunt followed by loud rustling, like the caller was fumbling through plastic liners. She sighed, "Hello?"

"Y-yeah," the audio was fuzzy, almost like they had a bad signal connection from wherever they were calling from. "I'm looking for an Inko Midoriya."

"Speaking."

"I see."

Inko huffed, switching her phone into her other free hand; "So? Is there something you needed or-"

"You were his wife, right?"

And her instinct to slam the phone down at that moment faltered and she immediately was hit with old painful memories.

"E-Excuse me?" her voice was hushed, like she'd been winded by those words alone.

"Your husband. Hisashi Midoriya."

"Who is this?"

"Just somebody who wanted to talk."

"My husband hasn't lived here," since he disappeared, "for a while. I'm sorry if you were trying to reach him, I can't help you."

With that brief explanation, she immediately ended the call and dropped it on the table top. With a stifled gasp, she clamped a hand over her mouth and leaned over one of the kitchen chairs as if she were in pain.

Emotional pain.

She really needed Izuku right now…

UNKNOWN CALLER buzzed across her phone screen for the second time and a shiver ran from the back of her neck all the way down to her spine. Was someone trying to pull a sick prank or something? She had no clue.

Reluctantly, she pressed Answer once again and whispered an anxious, "Hello?"

"You know you cry way too much, right? Same old Inko."

Crying?

She gingerly touched her cheek and immediately felt the wetness. Then it dawned on her what this person had just said and her breath hitched in her throat.

"Who is this?" she repeated, firmer this time while brushing the back of her arm against her face. Somebody had been watching her, the problem was she had no idea where. "Listen," her voice was jittery yet she ignored it, "I don't know how you got my number or where you've seen me but if you don't stop right now, I will be calling the authorities."

"Call them," the voice cackled gruffly on the other side of the line, "besides, who said anything about having seen you? You shouldn't leave your window open when you leave the house."

The window.

It had been open when she'd returned home from her errand.

She lowered the phone from her ear, heart racing against her chest while her ears picked up every tiny sound coming from the floorboards, thumps against the walls from the neighbours and a slow ticking sound coming from the kitchen clock.

The front door was only along the hallway. Almost taunting her with the reflective rays of the sunshine outside.

Tick, tick, tick.

It felt like she was stuck in slow-motion, her legs trembling violently under the assumption there might be an intruder hiding somewhere in her home right now…

"You've gone quiet."

Was that this person's plan? To lure her outside?

"I-I…" Inko choked on her own words.

"Don't you like talking to me?"

No. I really don't.

"I like talking to you."

Inko closed her eyes and bit her lip before shaking her head.

"After all, we're practically family."

                                                .-.-.-.-.

"You serious, Deku?" came the sneer of a young boy with spiky ash-blond hair. Behind him stood two other boys around the same age as they towered over a smaller boy with messy green locks. "You really think a weakling like you can do a fucking thing against the three of us?"

"He was crying, Kacchan!" the green-haired boy pleaded, wiping furiously at his tear-stained cheeks. "You can't keep acting like a bully; it's wrong!"

"The hell did you just say to me?!"

It was the wrong choice of words.

Something Izuku had quickly learned when dealing with Katsuki Bakugou, a boy that used to be his friend. However, when Izuku confided to the other child about the secret that greatly upset his parents, he was met with complete scorn and eventually became the class outcast.

Defenseless Izuku, the freak that saw dead people and nobody wanted to be friends with.

However, Katsuki's bullying tendencies halted after one of his friends, Tsubasa, vanished without a trace. The fiery boy grew more withdrawn and unsure, keeping Izuku at a great distance rather than choosing to torment him.

Katsuki Bakugou eventually moved away from Musutafu to live with his grandparents after a gruesome event that deeply traumatised him;

Early one morning, the remains of Mitsuki and Masaru Bakugou were found along the coastal side of Dagobah Beach. The media kept a lot of the details brief due to the case's sheer horrifying nature.

Masaru Bakugou was found with his throat slit and hands cut off while Mitsuki Bakugou was covered in various stab wounds with her tongue removed. The forensics and autopsies had ruled out that they had been dead for quite some time due to the fact that their corpses were spread with heavy decay.

Izuku only remembered fragments of the dreadful news; his father being more reserved while his mother broke down over discovering their demise. From what he remembered, his mother and Auntie Mitsuki had met in Junior High and had remained friends in their adult life.

Despite Katsuki's ill-treatment of him, Izuku still found himself feeling concerned for the louder boy. Sadly, Izuku never got a chance to try and rekindle his friendship with the youngest Bakugou due to him immediately being sent away.

It was something that Izuku still found himself longing for many years later in his teenage years…

"Hi, everybody. My name is Izuku Midoriya and I'm visiting today to talk about things that have affected me since I was very young."

And I'd rather be anywhere else than here right now…

Izuku forced himself to smile, despite the overwhelming feeling of nerves tugging away at his chest that made him feel more like a wooden puppet than an actual person at this point. It was pretty on point, he'd been rehearsing his greeting for a while now anyway...

"Thank you, Midoriya, please take your seat," one of the group therapy leaders smiled, sitting forward while hunched over her thick clipboard in an extremely awkward manner. Izuku bared his teeth in another forced grin before sitting back down on his plastic chair, trying to ignore the burn of embarrassment scorching his freckled cheeks.

While various names chorused amongst each other, Izuku chose to tune out. His emerald green eyes focused completely on a particular spot on the floor tiles as voices blended into one incoherent fuzzy noise. Almost sounding like television static.

Therapy had been his mother's idea. Izuku hadn't been thrilled at the proposition but he knew how much it would mean to her if he tried it out. That was several months ago.

They had attempted medication and counselling in the past too, thus why Izuku was understandably growing more and more tired with it. It was the same old story to him.

While he had grown up seeing things that would be… odd to most, the idea for counselling had nothing to do with the invisible people that clung to him in desperation. They still talked to him, though Izuku often found himself tuning out more nowadays.

Maybe he was just crazy?

That would explain why his mother was always sad and his father cut them off years ago.

Perhaps it was the stress of dealing with a problem child?

Izuku shook his head, chiding himself internally for even daring to consider such a ludicrous possibility;

Both of his parents loved him.

His mother was still grieving her husband's disappearance, it had nothing to do with Izuku's quirky little ability to see dead people…

"Get a grip, Izuku," he muttered to himself.

"Uh, is everything alright over there, young man?" one of the counsellors blinked, everybody's attention solely on the greenette as he flushed in humiliation.

Add talking to yourself to that pile of issues too, Izuku thought miserably to himself while the group therapy session came to end. The second that the adults dismissed the teens, Izuku snatched up his bag and bolted for the exit door like his life depended on it. Luckily, it was a short ride on the bullet train back to the city of Musutafu's Tattooin Station and then a ten minute walk back to his apartment complex.

As he made his way along his neighbourhood street, he noticed a large number of people crowding around the apartment blocks, some people were filming while police were running around and taping the area off to the civilians.

What in the…

While he craned his neck to try and see what was happening, his shoulder bumped against another member of the public and they made a short, restrained grunt as they were pushed to the side.

"S-Sorry, are you-" Izuku froze, emerald orbs meeting an intense crimson that sparked an old feeling of anxiousness and bad nostalgia.

"It's fine," the guy muttered, lowering his head before turning on his heel and striding in the opposite direction of the scene.

That was odd, Izuku frowned, watching the guy disappear amongst the sea of people flocking around the teen while using their phones to record.

Paramedics dressed in green appeared from the stairwell of the apartment complex and rushed across the lawn, pushing a stretcher on wheels. Izuku carefully pushed his way towards the front of the crowd and immediately froze in complete horror.

On the stretcher was his mother.

Thick gauze and towels were drenched in red that could only have been blood and she had an oxygen mask over her face. Izuku's vision suddenly swam and he clung to the nearest stranger, gasping for breath.

Police, paramedics and people were surrounding the entire vicinity. Realisation smacked Izuku as hard as a blunt object striking him across the face.

Holy shit. Who had done this?

His mother was being taken away on a stretcher covered in blood. He honestly didn't understand what was currently happening. Why was this happening?

The last that Izuku saw of his kind, gentle mother before the paramedics closed the ambulance doors were three random letters that had been carved into her arm;

A.F.O

[obeiii-mee]

Heya!

These are PDA imagines for the brothers. I’m maybe thinking of doing some of these for the non-dateable characters in Obey Me but for now, any more than seven characters would be too much.

————————————

PDA Imagines for the brothers:

Lucifer:

-Lmao no

-He wouldn’t be able to act all soft in public now would he?

-not when Diavolo’s around anyway

-He doesn’t want to make a big deal out of your relationship in public

-He will proudly hold your hand and maybe kiss you on the cheek

-But being in public means formality

-He also gets very embarrassed when you hug him in public because he can’t help act all soft around you when you’re being so cute

-Though it’s mostly because he’s so busy, running around after his siblings and Diavolo and dealing with their shenanigans

-The brothers will also tease the shit out of him whenever they see you just sitting next to him

-Give him time and he’ll be more than willing to try PDA from time to time

-But when you guys are behind closed doors, that’s a whole other story

-Hug him from behind and he will stop working for a good two minutes

-Overall, not a huge PDA fan leaning to not liking it at all, but he will always make a few exceptions for you

Mammon:

-He will try to act like it doesn’t faze him

-I mean, c’mon, he is the GREAT MAMMON after all, he can handle a few kisses in public

-Spoiler alert: no he can’t

-You can’t even hold his hand without him wanting to bury himself underground because damn it M/C, it’s embarrassing

-Wait, that doesn’t mean you stop doing it!

-No matter how much he complains and tries not to make a big deal out of it but is actually dying on the inside, he really wants you to keep holding his hand

-Even when you try to take your hand away he’s like:

-“Hey, what are ya doing? Why’d you stop holding my hand? I like holding hands with you- I MEAN, YOU SHOULD BE GRATEFUL TO HOLD HANDS WITH THE GREAT MAMMON!”

-“....”

-“....Can you hold my hand again please?”

-PDA starts off awkwardly for him but in the end he kinda likes it

-Especially if he feels threatened by someone else or he feels like you’re in danger

-Cue protective hug

-He doesn’t even care that much when his brothers make fun of him

-He’ll grumble a quiet ‘shut up’ but ultimately not care

-Because he’s got your attention and affection and you’re babying him in public and he likes it

Levi:

-I don’t think he knows what PDA is

-He basically lives in his room and will only come out is absolutely necessary

-Even indoors he’s all flustered when you shower him with affection

-He’d die if you as much as compliment him while outside

-It doesn’t mean he doesn’t like it

-He actually craves your attention and approval all the time

-24/7

-Hell, wake him up in the middle of the night to kiss him and he probably won’t complain (much)

-But you know, he already has enough of a problem with socialising on his own

-Having you there might make him even more socially awkward

-On one hand, he doesn’t want to bring attention to himself because he thinks he’s a gross otaku and you should be embarrassed to be seen with me

-But on the other hand, he has an amazing partner who he can show off to all the demons passing by and that makes him feel a lot better

-But in the end, PDA barely happens considering he doesn’t get out of his room

-Unless it’s an emergency or to get to the nearest convention

-After a while, he will feel braver and reciprocate your gestures right back to you

-One of those moments he manages to make you flustered out of nowhere

Satan:

-I feel like he doesn’t mind it

-Like he’s OK with it

-Doesn’t love it, doesn’t hate it

-He sometimes dislikes it because somethings are meant to be private

-But your cuteness will actually be the death of him someday and he can’t help but kiss you out of nowhere while walking down the street because you were petting a stray cat and looked so adorable and fuck

-You lowkey have him wrapped around your finger tho

-PDA is more likely to happen if he had an outburst of rage at someone

-Which, again, don’t happen that often because I’m guessing he started going to therapy or something for his anger issues

-You’re probably the only one that can calm him down

-Just cling to him and say his name and he will forget all about that demon he was about to throw out the window of the library

-Cue public cuddle session

-He is not embarrassed to cuddle you in public

-Prefers not to because, like Lucifer, a bit of formality is necessary while doing his errands and tasks

-But he doesn’t mind doing it

-Will, in fact, stare anyone down if they are looking at you two weirdly

-If anything, you’re the flustered one while he’s just holding you in his lap while reading

-Will act totally normal as if you guys do this everyday

-Which you kinda do but not in public in the library of all places

-He’s OK with PDA but as mentioned before, any proper intimacy will take place in private

-Good luck with that dear M/C

Asmo:

-Yes, yes, yes, yes

-Grabby hands all the way

-But seriously

-He is literally the Avatar of Lust

-He will not refrain himself from flirting with you and inappropriately touching you just because you’re in public

-“What’s the matter dear? I thought you liked it when I kissed your neck?”

-“Not in fucKING PUBLIC ASMO!”

-Couldn’t care less if it embarrassed you

-If it makes you uncomfortable that’s a whole different story and he would stop if you ask him to

-But other than that, he will take every opportunity to grab you or kiss you

-And you guys go out a lot

-Especially shopping

-Off topic but he buys you a ridiculous amount of clothing and most of it is pretty revealing because Asmo

-Would probably fuck you in a public or semi-public place if you were OK with it

-Kinky but what did you expect from him

-He will gladly accept those hugs and kisses and everything from you

-He loves PDA and will probably take it to another level completely if you were to agree with that

-If not, things would certainly get more interesting at home

Beel:

-He also doesn’t get fazed by it

-He kinda likes it actually

-But I think he just likes showering you with attention in general

-Not only will he return those hugs but he will proceed to pick you up and carry you around

-Bonus points if you give him a snack afterwards

-He doesn’t really care what the others think of him

-He’s probably the most composed out of all of them in public

-Like he doesn’t make a big deal of the affection you’re giving and will reciprocate as if it’s nothing

-He’s pretty oblivious to the stares you two are getting but whatever

-PDA also happens if he feels the need to protect you from something

-Bear hugs

-He’s unusually warm, almost as warm Belphie

-Will give you piggy rides even if you don’t ask for them

-10/10 would recommend hugging him

Belphie:

-Another one that doesn’t really come out of his room

-I mean, he barely goes to R.A.D because sleep is more important

-But on the rare occasion he’s outside, he’s almost always somewhere near you

-This boy is practically cuddling you while walking

-Or while you’re half carrying and half dragging him to places

-He probably falls asleep on you regularly in class and all that

-Has no shame whatsoever

-He’s fine with kisses in public if a little grumbly because it’s Belphegour

-But he will accept your acts of affection with open arms

-Kind of a Yandere so the fact you are willing to shower him and only with this much attention and all that in public, pleases him

-Sometimes he initiates the kisses

-And it scares the shit out of you because wasn’t he asleep on your shoulder just now??

-Forget hand holding

-He’s now using you as a moving pillow

-Beel is usually there to relieve you from the weight of his twin and carry him from there but not without some whines of protest from Belphegour

-Loves PDA but will never admit it

[etherealwaifgoddess]

Tea For Two

Characters: dad!Bucky x reader

Summary: You come home from grocery shopping to find Bucky having a tea party with your daughter.

Content Warning: tooth rotting fluff, a smidge of first base at the very end.

Word Count: 1.4k

Author’s Note: Hi lovelies. I know I have my Loki fic going on right now but I couldn’t wait to share this with ya’ll. This little fic popped into my head earlier today and I just couldn’t shake it loose. And honestly, we all need a little extra sweet fluff in our lives right now. XOXO - Ash

Tea For Two

The house is quiet as you lug your groceries in from the car. It’s suspicious at first, but short lived. Peals of laughter echo down the backstairs and into the kitchen. 

“No, daddy! Bubby-bear can’t drink tea!” you hear your four year old daughter shrieking with laughter. 

“What?!” your husband gasps dramatically, “Are you sure? ‘Cause I think he would love his own cup.” 

“No, daddy. It’s tea for TWO.” 

“Okay, princess. Tea for two.” 

You put the groceries away quickly, wanting to get a glimpse of the tea party before it’s over. Your daughter usually cons her daddy into wearing his own tiara and sometimes even some glitter. It’s worth shoving everything in the fridge to deal with later to see what was once the world's deadliest assassin sporting purple glitter and an Elsa crown. Even after four and a half years of parenthood, it still melts your heart to see Bucky be so soft with your daughter. 

Bucky had been terrified for most of your pregnancy. Scared he would lose you or the baby. Scared one of his old enemies would resurface and come after you. Scared he wouldn’t be a good father. It was a very long nine months but you had managed with lots of patience, love, and therapy. Bucky had taken to parenthood like a fish to water. He loved Rebecca Sara Barnes more than anything else in the world from the moment she took her first breath. It was almost annoying some days how all the little things that should have been annoying he seemed to love. He didn’t get upset when she woke up in the middle of the night, or when she got super whiny when she was tired. Those were the times Bucky shined. He was endlessly patient and loving, swooping in to fix whatever was wrong. You didn’t think you could love him more when you had married him, but after Becca, you learned your love for him was infinite. 

You slip upstairs quietly, padding down the carpeted hall without a sound. Well, at least none that your daughter would hear. There was no way to out-stealth a former assassin. You peek around the door frame to see your daughter’s back, your husband facing you from across the Disney Princess table. He dwarfs the pink chair he’s sitting on but he’s perched on it all the same. As expected, Becca had conned him into wearing a crown and there’s a smear of glitter on each of his cheeks. He hates getting the glitter out of his beard and long hair, but he loves his little girl more. A small shiny blue cape is hanging from his neck, barely draping down past his broad shoulders. A matching pink cape hangs from your daughter’s shoulders, fitting her like it should. Her little Anna crown is lopsided and she pushes it back with a huff of exasperation. It’s hard not to laugh, that expression is one she definitely gets from you. 

Bucky looks up at you, giving you a lopsided smile and a shrug. He should have started her bedtime routine fifteen minutes ago and he knows it. You can’t be upset though. It’s a weekend and they both live for these little quiet moments together. You shoot him a smile and lean back against the door frame to watch their party. It’s quite a spread tonight. Bucky had set up her Frozen tea set and they’re drinking strawberry tea and have plates of goldfish and fruit gummies on the table too. Becca’s stuffed bunny is one chair, and her favorite bear is in the other, both with their own empty cups in front of them. The bear was a gift from Steve when you’d announced your pregnancy. It was weird how the world had monetized the likenesses of the Avengers. Some things the team agreed they wished they’d never seen, but when Steve found a Bucky Barnes teddy bear, complete with a silver arm, he couldn’t resist. It had ended up being Becca’s favorite toy and she never slept without it. As she learned to speak, the Bucky-bear became her Bubby-bear and the name had stuck. 

Your daughter is chattering happily to her bear and bunny, making sure they’re having a nice time at her party. You know what’s coming next when she asks Mr. Flopsy if he would like to listen to some music. It’s not a tea party if she doesn’t get Bucky to sing. You had stopped dead in your tracks the first time you’d heard Bucky sing. It was shortly after Becca was born and he was lulling her to sleep, crooning some old song from his childhood. His voice was dark and smooth like good whiskey, and you’d thanked god for bringing this amazing man into your life. 

“Daddy, can you sing us the song?” Becca asks, looking sweet as can be.

Bucky smiles at her indulgently, but mischief sparks in his grey-blue eyes, “What song, princess?” 

“Daddy!” she scolds him, her chocolate brown curls flying as she shakes her head, “The tea party song!” 

“Oh!” Bucky acts surprised, “Of course I can sing the tea party song.” he takes a sip of his tea and then the old song spills from his lips, “Tea for two, and two for tea. Me for you, and you for me…” 

You head down the hall, giving them their peace. The parties normally wrap up soon after she gets Bucky to sing. You’re still tired from chasing her around all day, Friday is playgroup meetup after preschool, and then running errands once Bucky got home from work. You never expected Bucky to be able to work a nine to five job, not even when you’d found out you were pregnant. It was a bombshell on everyone when Bucky had handed in a formal resignation letter, apologizing to the team but making it crystal clear where his priorities lied. They had compromised with him working normal business hours, helping to chase leads and decrypt files from the office instead of the field. It had worked out for everyone and while you sometimes wondered if Bucky missed being in the field with the team, he insisted he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

An hour later you were relaxing in bed with your newest Nora Roberts book when Bucky appeared in your doorway. “Hey mama.” he called to you.

“Hey you.” you set your book down on the nightstand when you see he’s carrying two cups. They’re the oversized china teacups you had bought a few years ago at an estate sale. You love them despite how completely over the top they are.

“You up to an adult tea party?” he motions with the cups in his hands.

“What kind of tea do we have?” 

Bucky hands you a cup, “I managed to snag a bottle of the good champagne they had for that diplomats dinner going on tonight.” 

“Champagne in tea cups?” you giggle, sipping the bubbly golden drink. It was the good kind; slightly sweet with sharp bubbles bursting on your tongue. 

“Gotta take care of both my girls, don’t I?” Bucky presses a kiss to your forehead before going around to his side of the bed. 

“You do.” you agree, knowing full well Bucky is the best partner anyone could ever ask for. “But the real question is, will you sing the tea party song?” You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing, feeling playful and wanting to be a little needy like you know Bucky loves.

“Oh darlin’,” Bucky sets his cup down and slides over so he can lean over you, “All you had to do was ask.” he kisses you firmly for a moment before his lips slide to the edge of your jaw by your ear, “Tea for two” he sings in a low whisper, “Two for tea.” he trails kisses in between notes along your jaw and down the column of your neck “Me for you.” Bucky grinds gently against you as his kisses trail further down your chest, “And you for me.” Bucky stops singing as he buries his face between your breasts. You never do get to hear him sing the whole song, but in that moment you can’t seem to mind at all.