#and I have so many pics of dogs on my phone now. just drop an ask if you wanna see

[bentrollio]

I fucking love knowing what my mutuals do for a living. Every time they mention it in the tags I’m like “:0!!!!” I’d love to know what my other mutuals and followers do for a living, I just think it’s a nice way to contextualize your internet friends in the real world

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

random percy headcanons:

wants to be the photographer friend SO bad and he technically is but like 70% of the pics come out blurry or weird bc there was a monster attack in the middle of them. his instagram is truly so chaotic looking.

literally always has seashells on him someone will ask him for a pencil or spare change and he has to empty all his pockets of shells to find it. drops his backpack and a bunch of shells fall out. kicks his shoes off and sand and shells fly out and his mortal friends are like percy What the Fuck

his eyes glow underwater!! bioluminescent king. no one told him though and he didn't find out until he joined his school's swim team and terrified everyone (he managed to convince them his contacts were having a weird reaction to chlorine lmao)

he really likes art!! he doesn't just pretend to for rachel's sake he genuinely enjoys painting with her. he likes splatter paint, collages and pop art styles the best. one day after splitting some edibles they realized percy could manipulate water colors and went CRAZY with it

will ask to be excused during class and comes back like an hour later with scorch marks all over his face bleeding from one of his ears covered in dust missing three fingernails rips in his jeans and a fat lip and the teacher is like percy what the actual hell were you doing in the bathroom all this time and he's just like uhhhhhh I have ibs

the brand from camp jupiter did unfortunately (for sally) Unlock something in him lmfao he keeps getting shitty little tattoos. usually stick-n-poke but someone's friends cousin's girlfriend's brother has a gun that gets brought to parties every now and then. most of them are sloppy but you can tell what they are HOWEVER he has one that was supposed to be a seal that came out looking like one of those shitty ms paint crying memes. annabeth laughed at him for ten minutes straight when she saw it.

he wanted to dye his hair blue but he was too chicken to bleach his entire head so he just did the tips. his hair is curly though so it looks absolutely ridiculous but he loves it

percy and annabeth get a crusty little yappy white dog in college and he carries it around like a baby lmao

back to his chaotic instagram, he's got so many pics of him like, relaxing at the bottom of the mariana trench or hugging a giant squid or riding on a whale shark and his mortal friends all think he's just really good at photoshop and this is a very specific bit he decided to commit to. they're always like lol percy where do you even FIND these pictures are you subscribed to like scientific journals for the laughs? but no he just took them all on his shell phone

has an ongoing prank war with annabeth's little brothers bobby and matthew but like it's Unhinged. they're playing 5D chess and she has no idea whats going on

weird tshirts!!! he loves them! like

shit like this or those 'women want me fish fear me' shirts, anything with a funny or incomprehensible slogan is going in his closet right along with his band tees lmfao

bought estelle a panda pillow pet when she was born 🥺

can NOT bring himself to eat seafood no matter how many times poseidon has told him its fine. he's like NO these are my FRIENDS JONATHAN WAS TELLING ME ABOUT HIS GRANDDAUGHTERS WEDDING LITERALLY YESTERDAY WHY IS HE ON A PLATTER DAD. they had to give up and just start eating normal land food at the palace every time he comes to visit lmfao

gets into horsegirl antics with hazel she NEEDS to know everything the horses have to say. they spend hours gossiping in the stables.

movie nights in the poseidon cabin were 10000% a thing and when he was missing annabeth and thalia and grover (and a few others) would still sleep in there every now and then and talk about how much they miss him :(

percy and beckendorf had the worlds most elaborate handshake

he DOES impulse buy stuff just because they're ocean-themed. stuffed animals, home decor, school supplies, clothes, you name it he bought it if theres like a fish on it

has more scars from crashing off his skateboard than he does from monster attacks

grover is somehow the only person who's ever noticed percy is severely claustrophobic

has a deep passion for adele. I can't explain this one I just feel and know it to be true.

he and annabeth both proposed to each other at the same time and they were SO mad about it they kept yelling over each other's speeches lmao

he can SING but he doesn't know it. sally keeps trying to record him singing to himself but something always happens to the camera and she loses the evidence

called chiron a brony one time and mr d thought it was so funny he was nice to percy for an entire week

the camp keeps trying to convince him to teach sword fighting lessons to the younger kids but he can NOT bring himself to swing a sword at a 9 year old so he keeps getting injured

has the most complicated iced coffee order in the world his go-to local coffee shop finally just put the damn drink on the menu and named it after him

he IS the quiet kid in the back of your math class that always has his hood up to try and hide his headphones and eats increasingly elaborate meals out of his backpack when the teacher isn't looking. one time someone caught him with a rotisserie chicken in the middle of a geometry final.

he argued that he DID have enough to share with the class

currently obsessed with the image of him knocking back a container of sea salt as if it was a shot and his mortal friends being like hey! what the actual fuck! and he's just like uhhhhh anemia kills!

its his birthday<3

[steddielations]

Eddie’s having lunch with Wayne at a restaurant, but he’s distracted while swiping through Tinder, getting hung up on this one guy.

He's unfairly attractive, Steve, 20, a total jock with too many shirtless pictures that Eddie won't admit make him blush down at his phone. There's also pics of 'Steve' with a cute service dog, which is always a plus. His bio actually makes Eddie snort, 'Yeah I'm a single dad of seven, don't cream your pants,' it's funny, confident in a charming way. He's hot, but still looks like a sweetheart in group photos with his friends at Pride, so it all balances out, gives him substance.

But, the last few times Eddie swiped right, he didn't get any matches. He already knows the guy is out of his league and he doesn’t want to bother anymore.

Wayne catches him moping, and as pathetic as it is to involve his uncle in his nonexistent lovelife, he shows him the pictures. Wayne totally disagrees that 'Steve' is too good a catch for Eddie, but Eddie brushes it off as Wayne buttering him up like any good parent would. Then Wayne pulls the Ultimate Supportive Dad move and completely humiliates Eddie by asking the guy sitting alone at the table next to theirs to weigh in.

“Help me out and tell my nephew that this boy here on the Tinder ain't outta his league, would you?"

Eddie's mortified by his Uncle's lack of social media knowledge and the fact that he's involving a stranger in Eddie's pathetic lovelife now too. He doesn't even get a good look at the guy, wearing a hat and sunglasses and besides, Eddie's just glaring at his uncle with his cheeks burning the entire time.

"I think you should listen to your uncle. If anything, you're out of this guy's league, it's his loss if he didn't already swipe right on you," the stranger says, making Eddie's blush spread, "I mean, he seems totally full of himself with all those shirtless pics, right?"

"I would be too if I was that hot," Eddie mutters, taking his phone back, "Fine, I'm almost embarrassed to death, I might as well just swipe right, get rejected and finish the job."

Eddie swipes the screen and he almost drops it when the little notification bell for a new match goes off.

Because it didn't come from his phone.

He looks up as the stranger checks his own phone, taking off his hat and sliding his sunglasses up, revealing the same perfect hair and pretty face that Eddie just swiped right on.

“See there," Wayne is oblivious while Eddie's close to bursting into actual fucking flames from embarrassment, "Told you I was right."

"Look at that, I just got a new match too," Steve says, winking at Eddie, "I have a good feeling about this one."

[automicbaseball]

Opening Day 2024

Last Thursday the 28th was the first game of the year for the Mariners up here in the Pacific Northwest. Up against the Boston Red Sox for a 4-game series, the excitement was on high!

We have bought the flex pass two years in a row now, pay into a bank, and you can then buy tickets with the credit, without paying the tickethamster fees and whatnot. I like this deal, we went to about 20 games last year. There are often great deals for cheap bleacher, 300, or even 200 level seats.

I have been waiting for the season to start for a while now. Kept putting the spring training games on the radio while doing work and whatnot. I always feel better knowing thousands of people are enjoying the live spectacle at the same time as me. It's autistically comforting.

We took the light rail for the first time in a while. I love Seattle's public transportation system. Go to a park and ride, hop on the light rail, and we're dropped off about a 5-minute walk from T-Mobile Park. Great way to get some hot dogs, off-market merch, or just to down a beer before you get in.

I almost always come in the center field entrance with my partner. We like to walk around the field, get some sights, maybe find our seats in a timely manner. Being autistic, we tend to follow a specific plan usually; get seated, cool down the overwhelmed heat, get beers and snacks, then be ready for first pitch! I also have a plan for the goddamn metal detection and clear plastic bags; we always have water and snacks and things to do. My collar almost always sets the detector off, but I just walk through. Shrug!

Today we saw Nelson Cruz throw the first pitch, followed by a 1-day contract, so he could retire as a Mariner. I enjoy these little vignettes. Last year we saw the King, Felix Hernandez' Hall of Fame induction and it brings you to tears (and incidentally, my partner found a pic of their kidlet at a game the King was pitching in almost 10 years ago). I wonder, what it's like to be a retiring baseball player (or any sportsball); what do you do next? What happens if you're not a coach or talking head? How do you go on when your body cannot? I'd love for everyone to find their Ichiro Suzuki role, but alas.

There are many ways to enjoy baseball; talk and pay no attention, drink 10 beers, take meticulous score, wander, it's all a lovely spectacle.

This year we sat in section 328, just behind home plate off to the side of 1st base. I love the hanging sections where there are 3 rows just below the tunnel when you enter. I like sitting on the end of the rows and ideally where it's not hugely crowded, it's just a sensory thing. Last year we sat in 126 and it was crowded, plus the ceiling above us limited the view of the main jumbotron. Not my favorite.

Not to mention catching a meatball of a fucking man texting a picture of me to his friends, writing some horrible words to go along with it. I am a very high-sensory person; I'm always looking around, seeing things, evaluating my surroundings, and it felt weird to see a picture of me on someone else's phone. I kept very calm about it, took his picture, and get the box office to move us to much better seats.

As for the game itself, I don't remember a huge amount of it. We lost 4-6, and we left in the 8th inning to avoid the crowds (we had our kidlet with us tonight). Ate some garlic fries, drank a strawberry seltzer and a nice IPA of some sort. I also took some nice pictures here and there.

Anyways, thanks for reading, I hope to write a little more as I go through the season, about games we attend. I'm not a sportswriter, and really I'm not a writer either, but I have to get some words out. Just who I am.

[justyouraverageanonbloghere]

T & A

Working a dead end nine-to-five is never a life anyone would openly ask for. Living paycheck to paycheck, dealing with a prick of a boss that likes to dangle bonuses over us and watch us swarm on each other like a pack of rabid dogs. But what do you expect from working in a place thar hardly pays for shit? I even pick up so many extra hours by working from home that I have no social life anymore. Hell, can't even afford to go on a date.

Retreating to the metro for my short period of reprieve, I notice this man get on the same cabin as me. He was muscular as all hell, a charming face, and wearing a grey long sleeve with a pair of tan pants that- wait- is that a bulge?

Holy fuck this dude wasn't wearing any underwear! That was his probably half-hard dick!

'Fuuuuck.' I groaned internally as I felt a stirring in my pants from how overwhelmingly hot and perfect this man is.

I tried to discreetly take out my phone and sneak a pic of the Adonis before me only to be met with success. As I was accessing my gallery, my screen began glitching as soon as I accessed the photo.

"What the fuck?" I say under my breath before the screen returns to normal with a white box that gave one option.

[TRANSFER?]

My eyebrow perked at this. I tried turning off my phone but nothing was responding. Figuring it was just a small bug, I hit the button. Almost immediately the lights go off in the train which was met with screams from children, groans from the impatient riders, swears from the drunkards and homeless, and so on. But just as the lights went off they turned back on. I was hoping to pass a glance at the guy who I was eyeing until I realize I was staring at an empty seat.

Wait a minute- wasn't I just sitting there? My stuff isn't even there anymore. But if I'm no longer there, then where is the guy? With a sigh I decide to head to the bathroom on the train to try and relieve my sexual frustration. As I close the door behind me, I was met by a hand with a skin color darker than mine. Not only that there was a grey skin tight shirt in place of my tweed suit jacket. I quickly turn to the mirror and look in complete shock while I feel my dick stir.

I was the guy!

No. I was Armand. The name surfaced to my mind as if the most common knowledge I could've known.

I ran my hand along my jaw, looking into these deep brown eyes. Fuck seeing Armand up close like this was breathtaking. I could feel my breathing pick up which caused these massive pecs begin to rise and fall more prominently.

I was growing impatient and so was my dick.

I dropped the plastic bag I was holding and peeled off my shirt to reveal a hulking body full of beautifully developed muscles. As my fingers slowly glided over each of my eight new abdominal muscles, I'd involuntarily let out a low growl as a lustful smirk pulled at my lips. Even Armand's body new it was sexy!

My second hand joined the search as I closed my eyes to take in the feeling of these deeply defined abs before moving up to rest on two giant slabs of meat on my chest. I immediately began groping them, massaging them, squeezing them until I framed them in my hands to press them together.

"Nice tits." I say to my reflection in my smooth baritone voice before letting them drop from my hold. The result caused them to bounce a bit as they fell before I reached back down to finally meet my last present. My hand dived into these tan pants that showed my bulge so nicely and grabbed my now hardened fuckstick. I gave it a good squeeze and let out a sharp intake of breath over how incredibly good it felt.

"Fuck yeah..." I growl out while unzipping my pants to fish out this 10 inch beer can of a dick from their prison.

"Damn... No wonder why you don't wear underwear. This thing deserves to be free." I chuckle as I began slowly pumping it up and down while my other hand moved to continue feeling my beautiful torso. I take some of the pre leaking from my dick and sample some. Not bad. Not bad at all. However that just caused my dick to leak more. I ended up taking more of the leaking pre and rub it on my sensitive nipples that tipped these massive slabs of meat.

"I'm gonna fuck so many dudes with this thing. Gotta make up for all these years working for that piece of shit boss." I grin to myself as my breathing begins to pick up from the pleasure electrifying my body. "Maybe even pay that bitch a visit and beat his greedy ass for treating us like starving dogs."

Both ideas made something primal emerge. It wasn't Armand or me. It was as if the body itself goaded these urges, wanting me to go through with it. It was so tempting. I know I could do it.

I should do it.

I will do it.

My grin became more maniacal as I gave into these desires while I began fucking into my grip and pumping my monster cock. Luckily I had enough sanity left to make sure I didn't make too much noise for anyone to hear me. Regardless I was pumping at a furious pace as my dick got red while I kissed and chewed at my python biceps.

The pleasure was too much. I couldn't hold back anymore. My eyes bugged out as I threw my head back and shot a mighty load on the graffiti etched mirror. I take the globs and rub them on my pecs and abs until it dried; all the while I had a narcisstic grin plastered on my face.

"Fuck that felt good." I laughed as I dressed myself and washed my hands afterwards.

I gave the toilet one good flush just to lower any possible suspicions and saunter over to my old spot on the train, but to my dismay I saw someone sitting there. As our eyes met, I nudge with my head for him to move and he did so immediately.

It's to be expected when you have such a powerful body like mine after all.

'That's right. This is all mine now. All this strength, these looks, this dick...yeah I could get used to this.' I think to myself as I spread my legs out to flash my half flaccid bulge while closing my eyes to enjoy the raw power coursing through my veins.

I basked in my new body for a while- maybe 30 minutes give or take- only for a new thought to surface. My stop is coming up. I get up and crack my neck as I wait for the train to come to a creaking halt. Once the doors opened I stepped out and stretched before going under my shirt to scratch my abs of a random itch.

"Now let's get this dick wet before I pay a visit to Mr. Dale tomorrow." I grin, ready for the start of my new and perfect life.

[poppy-metal]

saw ari reblog ur erenjean stuff and i’m now just thinking abt them getting each other off to the thought of u. u posted a suggestive pic on ur spam account, showing ur shoulder, collarbone and a bit of cleavage and it’s the sexiest thing they’ve ever seen. makes them hard immediately and they can’t help but fuck their fists while talking about how they’d fuck you

no bc it always ends up w eren letting jean rut his cock into his fist as they tongue fuck eachothers mouth, the photo of you open on jeans phone on the bed. it goes beyond just two bros helping eachother out over their mutual crush on you, eren has jean pinned down as he sneers down at him and grips his hair, forces jeans head back. "spread those pretty legs," n jean does, lets eren fit between them. "mm. stay still n let me-" eren grunts when their cocks slide together,. wet. its wet. "-gonna fuck you how i wanna fuck her, yeah? shit, you're hot enough. your dicks wet enough to be a pussy, fuck, man" he drops his head in jeans neck, reaches down to grip his hips. "you have t'let me fuck you. need something warm n wet wrapped around my cock, yknow? s'been so long, n y/n looked so fucking hot today-"

"what-" jean gasps. "what was she wearing? you can fuck me just, shit, tell me what she was wearing"

n it evoles into that. they fuck eachother to the thought of you, though it eventually becomes more. when they come out as dating you're not even suprised, having picked up on the tension between them (not knowing half of it was bc of you) ages ago.

s'weird then? when they both start flirting with you? they'll be handsy and gross in public but then one of them will make eye contact with you. jeans amber eyes heated as eren sucks a mark on his neck at a party, his eyes only on you. eren slipping a hand in the back of jeans pocket while he's talking to you, n he grins when you look away bashfully. they make so many sexual innuendos too.

eren pointing to his face when you pout that you don't know where to sit. jean always calling you princess. its driving u insane.

the breaking point is when you walk in on them, jean is fucking erens mouth n the second you open the door and he makes eye contact with you, he cums. moans your name as he cums down erens throat.

you're still in shock when eren casually stands up, he hasn't swallowed yet n beckons you to him. you go in a daze, and gasp, startled when eren grabs you by the back of the neck and drags you to him. your first kiss w eren jaeger tastes like jeans cum. he fucks it into your mouth lazily and pulls back w a smirk when your lips are all spit slicked and wet. grabs your jaw n says "swallow it"

what can you do? you do swallow it and jean lets out another moan. eren pets your cheek, "we should talk" he says in that low voice of his he's been taunting you with for months. "but first i think we should take care of that little pussy we've been after since we met you"

"please, baby" jean says n his chest is bare and gleaming w sweat. he reaches out n tugs you to him, pressing you against the full length of his hard body. "think I'll go crazy if i don't get to eat you out like, right now"

you have alot of questions but. but you're horny and they've been teasing you. its the least they could do rn to take care of the ache between your legs. you're already dripping down your thighs.

you loop your arms around jeans neck, look back at eren who's eyeing you like a hungry dog, licking his lips. "Okay"

[egcdeath]

strangers again

summary: “hiiii sweetie!! can i request a steve x reader where he left yn for peggy. but he always felt guilty and missed yn. he would always stare at her pic. when he came back he bumped into yn while she was dropping a kid to daycare. and steve realized it was his son. kinda sad but fluff at the end pls!!!! and oh i super love your works!!! tysm 🌼🥺💕”

pairing: steve rogers x reader

warnings: decent angst, brief mention of a depressive episode, abandonment, somewhat unrealistic behavior

word count: 3.8k

author’s note:  i really hope that this lives up to your expectations but it is a little cheesy. i’d also like to warn that i have not interacted with a child in several years, so.. sorry. (there’s also a lot of exposition so double sorry if that’s not your thing!)

You’d never forget the moment Steve left to return the stones, with the promise to be back in only a matter of moments.

Maybe your definition of a matter of moments was different from his.

You seemed to be the only one without a clue of what Steve truly planned to do, with Bucky only telling you after the matter that Steve was leaving for the past and for Peggy, and probably not coming back.

After finding out, something deep within you broke. You could barely leave your bed for days, you struggled to eat, sleep, even drink water. Every task that used to seem like muscle memory, began to feel like it carried the weight of the world behind it. Every hobby that you once enjoyed becoming empty and bleak.

You constantly felt inadequate. How could you love someone so much, and be told you were loved so much while always being second to someone else?

The simple sentiment of it had left you feeling miserable, and sick to your stomach. Literally. Nearly every morning, and occasionally if you smelled something too strong, you found the contents of your stomach emptied.

You attempted to ignore it at first. Meshed with every other unpleasant symptom you were going through, you’d figured that it was just one more bullet point on the list of things that had been plaguing you. But when your friends insisted that you go check up with your doctor, you had a hard time saying no.

Once you received the results from your blood test, you were completely taken aback by the fact that you were pregnant. You couldn't believe that you hadn’t considered the possibility of pregnancy earlier.

Yet,  after a long and hard period of pondering, you managed to surprise yourself once again after you realized you wanted to keep it.

After all, that could be the only piece of Steve you had left.

----

You began to tell yourself that Steve was dead. That was somehow less painful than the idea that he left you for someone that he barely knew, yet had fallen so hard for nearly 70 years ago. You refused to let yourself fall for anyone else romantically, now that you were aware that anyone had the capacity to leave you at any time, no matter how deep you perceived your relationship to be.

You guarded your heart, and made sure to only let in those that you knew you could trust for a fact. For the remainder of your pregnancy, only your closest family members and friends stood by your side.

About 8 months later, you brought a small, but healthy infant into the world. From that moment on, you promised yourself to become the best version of yourself that you could be. No dwelling on the past, and no yearning for what could’ve been. Your only duty now was to provide the best life possible for your offspring.

So you did.

----

You stood in the kitchen, peeling an orange for your son before he bounded into the room. You turned and gave him a big grin, and he grinned back to you.

“Did you get dressed all by yourself?” You asked him excitedly, receiving a nod in return before he ran up to your leg, and hugged it.

“I did, Mommy!” He looked up at you with his soulful eyes, and you couldn’t help but to feel bombarded with emotion.

Even at the tender age of five, Grant seemed to become a bit more like his father every day. The shape of his eyes, the slope of his nose, the sound of his giggle. To the average onlooker, he came across as the same as any other child, but to you, your son was the splitting image of Steve.

“Good work, little man. Now go sit at the table so mommy can finish breakfast, okay?” He didn’t even bother confirming with you before more or less sprinting to the table. You couldn’t help but to ask yourself if your son had obtained all of that energy and speed from his father as well.

Breakfast was over almost as soon as it started, and before you knew it, you were warming up your car after you’d assisted Grant with brushing his teeth.

You were in an oddly nostalgic mood that day, playing music from a time period before you’d even imagined bringing another life into the world. You glanced up at the rearview mirror and watched your son happily bop his head to the beat. You thought in passing about how much of a gift he truly was.

After arriving at his school, you hopped out of the car and over to the furthest seat in the back, where he’d insisted on sitting that day.

“You ready, big guy?” You questioned while reaching out to grab him from the car seat.

“Born ready,” he agreed. You chuckled and shook your head fondly at that while getting him out of the car.

“Who taught you that?”

Grant shrugged, “I came up with it myself.”

“I’m sure. Can you hold my hand while we’re out please?” You reached out for him, and he gladly obliged.

You soon became distracted by a large man across the street, his built figure and light blonde hair making you recall the father of your child. You gave Grant’s hand a light squeeze and continued to approach the door, not being able to help yourself, and glancing over at the man one last time.

Except this time was different. Your eyes locked with the blonde man outside of the coffee shop across the street unexpectedly. Where you once thought casually to yourself that it looked like Steve, you now had confirmation that it was in fact the man who you’d fallen in love with, and found yourself pregnant by.

You audibly gasped, receiving a bit of a questioning look from your child. Your heart dropped as a metric ton of emotions hit you all at once, anger, sadness, confusion. Everything you told yourself you needed to repress, had suddenly come back to you all at once.

Even from a distance, you swore you could see his eyes flit from you to Grant, and the next thing you knew, he was approaching your direction. Looking for an easy out, and a distraction from your rather observant child, you quickly caused a misdirection.

“Grant, is that Stacey over on the playground? You should totally go show her that new version of tag that you were telling me about!”

Your son, ever the speedster, booked it towards the playground, and you let out a sigh of relief. Although, the relief didn’t last long, as just moments later, Steve was almost all the way up to you. As you turned to try to escape, you felt a hand on your arm.

“Y/N?” He asked, almost timidly.

You weren’t even sure what to say. In fact, you didn’t feel like you had control of your own body at this point. “Steve? I-“ You ran a hand through your hair and bit the inside of your lip. “You need to go.” The pain that was rushing through you was too much for you to bare, especially considering the man who caused the hurt had suddenly decided to reappear in your life after giving you a world of self doubt and abandonment issues.

Steve seemed hurt by your statement, but you weren’t sure how much longer you could stand to even look at his face. “Please, Y/N, let me explain,” he begged.

“No, Steve. You don’t get that luxury. You left me for someone else, and I guess you got to live a nice, long life with her. You don’t get to just show back up in my life when you get bored, okay? I can’t afford to play those types of games anymore. Now if you’d let me go-“ You attempted to get to your car, but Steve side stepped you.

“It wasn’t like that. You know it isn’t like that.”

“Just fucking leave! You have no idea what this has all been like for me. You had your opportunity to leave, and you gladly took it. Stay the fuck out of my life, and the hell away from my son.” You grabbed the handle of your car door and got in, reeling as you watched a dejected Steve walk away.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you rested your head against the steering wheel. You were feeling way too many emotions to pinpoint exactly how you felt, but you knew that this couldn’t be good.

——

You put a brave face on for your son that day, picking him up from school in a daze, and only half listening to whatever it was that he was telling you.

You felt bad for only being able to nod along to whatever he was saying, and did he just ask you if he could get a dog? Did you just say yes?

You felt like a stranger watching yourself from the outside in. The ghost of the person you’d developed into over the years watching the past version of yourself slip right back into your body, and take over your daily routine through the next few days of your life.

You had an obscene amount of anger that soon dissolved into a deep sadness, and that sadness shorty developed into a morbid curiosity.

You spent an unreasonable, and certainly unhealthy amount of time searching your old lover’s name on tabloid websites and social media, just to see if he’d given a statement on his whereabouts, or a statement about anything at all.

After about day three of your minor internet stalking, you’d had an epiphany while sitting in your office.

You still have Steve’s number saved on your phone.

That was, of course, if it hadn’t changed between now and the years that he’d been off living in the past.

Something about knowing that you were just one text away from him made your heart race with a mixture of nerves and interest. Just one impulsive decision, and you could change the whole trajectory of the rest of your life.

If you got back in contact with Steve, you might not ever be willing to leave him. You refused to make that mistake again.

Until you did.

After reading Grant his nightly bedtime story, then wrapping him tightly in his little bed, you’d decided to treat yourself to a glass of Chardonnay.

It’d been a weird past couple of days. Your time traveling ex had randomly appeared back into your life, your coworkers seemed to get on your nerves a little more every moment you were around them, and Grant had a temper tantrum in the grocery store that afternoon over a chocolate bar, which gained judging stares from customers, and may have made you feel the slightest bit inadequate.

At least that’s what you told yourself as you filled your glass again, because two glasses can’t hurt, and again, since I kinda deserve this extra one, don’t I? The next thing you knew, the bottle was empty, and you were texting Steve for the first time in years.

Y: Is this Steve?

You watched as three white dots hovered on your screen for a moment, disappeared, then came back once again.

S: Is this Y/N?

Y: Yes.

Y: We should tlak

Y: *talk

S: I agree.

Y: So lets

Y: talk

S: I don’t think this is a conversation for texts.

Y: Then call me???????????????????

S: We should talk in person.

Y: Im not gonna do that sober

S: You’re not sober?

Y: do you think id text u sober u big fuckni asshole

S: I guess you’re right

S: So are we gonna talk?

Y: no ur gonna meet me at b cup cafe tomorrow at 10

S: AM or PM?

Y: AM I’m off

S: Are you sure you want to do this?

Y: Say yes before i change my mind

S: I’ll see you there

Y: Bye babydaddy

S: ????

You promptly deleted the messages, tossed your phone somewhere on the sofa, and sunk into the seat. Even in your not-completely-sober state, you already felt the all too familiar sense regret. You dragged the blanket that hung over the top of the sofa over your exhausted body, and closed your eyes, wishing that this was somehow all a dream.

----

It was not all just a dream.

You woke up with dried drool on your chin, and a deep pit of bad feelings and regret in your chest. Of course, you ignored the bad feelings and got ready, business as usual. You successfully dropped Grant off at school with little complications, and found yourself perking up a bit more.

Yet, something still felt slightly off. You reached into the passenger seat for your phone, and as you looked down on it, saw the familiar notification of a calendar event.  

10:00 AM b cup coff w Steeb

You groaned out loud at this. There was no obligation for you to go meet with him, but perhaps going and talking to Steve would bring you some sort of closure. Maybe then you could move on with your life, get with a nice guy who would mean it when he tells you he won't leave you, who loves Grant like he’s his own biological offspring, and to take care of the both of you through thick and thin.

You gladly daydreamed of this fantasy man while driving to the shop, but you couldn’t help but to see Steve’s face doing all of the aforementioned things. Before you even fell pregnant, that’s what you’d truly wanted with Steve. To be a family. To have your definition of home be with your people, rather than a place.

Entering the coffee shop, you briefly ordered your drink before looking around and find Steve sitting alone in a booth, mindlessly stirring around the liquid in his cup.

Timidly, you approached the booth, before setting your purse down and sitting across from him.

“You... you came?” He looked up to you with almost watery eyes.

“Of course I did,” you tried to hold yourself back from mentioning something about following through on your word. You wanted this to be as civil as possible. To build bridges rather than burn them.

“I just didn’t expect to see you in person again. And, you know, you were running a little late,” he added.

“Well, you try waking a five year old up and getting him ready for school every day,” you expelled a humorless chuckle to deflect from the slight agitation you were feeling.

“While you’re hungover?” Steve asked with a bit of a smirk, trying to lighten up the mood.

“While you’re hungover,” You confirmed, genuinely laughing now. It felt good, natural even. You’d kind of forgotten just how pleasant things used to be with Steve.

“Did you mean it last night?” he interrupted the laughter with a serious look.

“I honestly cannot remember anything I said last night. Elaborate, please?”

“That he’s mine. Your son.” He watched you silently nod, then began to speak again, “Wow, I just didn’t realize… How did that happen?” He looked down into his drink nervously.

“Well, it’s kind of hard to recall the exact details, but when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much...” You trailed off, and looked up as a barista called a butchered version of your name.

You were glad to have an excuse to get up and leave for a moment. Adrenaline was racing through your body, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep your composure before you erupted into tears, or had some sort of angry outburst.

Bringing your cup back to the booth, you sat down and took a sip of the scalding drink, “Where did we leave off?”

“I believe you were giving me the birds and the bees?”

“Right! Well, I think you know the rest. I’ll tell you more about Grant later. Right now, I want to know why you left and suddenly decided to come back.” You genuinely felt proud of your delivery. This was the moment you’d practiced in front of the mirror for years, and you didn’t even butcher it.

Steve shook his head and looked into his drink once again. It was so hard to look at you, let alone make eye contact with you, when he knew that he’d been the one to give you an ocean of grief. Yet, he was somewhat intrigued by hearing that his son’s name was his middle name.  

“It’s kind of a long story,” Steve began.

“Good thing we have time,” you crossed your arms as you spoke.

“Well, waking up in a whole new time period isn’t exactly the easiest thing ever. You and me both know I missed it there, and it’s always been more than just nostalgia for me. I truly believed that I belonged back there.”

Of course, you had an idea of this, but hearing Steve confirm what you’d already thought made your insides twist.

“But I was so wrong. More than anything, I guess I was in love with a romanticized version of the past. Of Peggy.”

Hearing her name, especially from Steve, made you bristle. You wanted to interrupt him at this point, but it wouldn’t do you or him any good to become hostile while he explained himself.

“By the time I realized, it was too late. I figured you’d already moved on and found someone else to take care of you, and the world, this world, didn’t really need me anymore. But something possessed me to come back.”

“So you’re telling me that if you stopped being an idiot that just assumes things, we could’ve worked this out before? That you could’ve been an active participant in your son’s life?”

“I guess that’s a good way to interpret that story. I know I haven’t been in his life, but is there any way that I can still meet him?” Steve asked hopefully.

“Yeah, of course. He’s just like,” you sighed a bit to yourself. “He’s like a carbon copy of you. Especially his personality, but like, down to his mannerisms. I always struggled to understand how he could be so much like his dad, and never even had met him. You’ll love him.”

“Even if I didn't like him, I’d still love him.”

“How do you still manage to be such a cheeseball all the damn time? You think you’d be able to make it to dinner tonight?”

----

At exactly 6:30 on the dot, your doorbell rang, and before you even had the chance to think about opening it, Grant already was at the door, and opening it. You cringed on the inside, and made a mental note to have another conversation about stranger danger with him.

“Do I know you? Who are you?” you heard your child question from the other room as you set down the last of the plates in your dining room.  

“I’m Steve, your mom’s friend... and…” Steve nearly spilled the beans to his son, but didn’t want to cause any more damage than he’d already done. “Her friend.”

“That’s so cool! I have friends too, like Nick, and Stacey, and,” you’d rushed up to the door and wiped your brow, internally hoping that you hadn’t just smudged the makeup you’d put on for the occasion.

“Hi, Steve, come on in,” You beckoned him in, and pulled Grant to the side, quietly scolding him before leading Steve into the dining room. “Grant! This is the last time I’m telling you about opening doors, okay?” He nodded obediently, then followed you and Steve.

“Can I sit next to your friend, Mommy?”

“Is that alright with you, Steve?”

“More than fine.”

Grant sat down next to him, and scooted a bit closer than necessary, while you sat across from the two of them.

“I have to in… enter a gate you now. Because Mommy never brings any over her friends over. I didn’t know she had any friends.”

You blushed a bit at this, at your son’s overdramatic behavior, and his admission that you’d become a bit of a loner.

“Go ahead, pal,” Steve chuckled heartily.

“When did you meet my mom?”

“Before you were even born.”

“Wow! That’s a long time. You’re really old. What’s your favorite dinosaur?”

“I’ve heard T-Rexes are pretty cool.”

“Have you met any?”

You nearly spat out your drink at this. If only your son had known.

“Nope, never. Have you?”

“Hmm, not yet. But they’re my favorite dino too. Now your ‘gating is over.”

You couldn’t help but to burst out into laughter at the bizarre exchange, but you were glad that your son and Steve were getting along so well.

The rest of dinner went pretty similarly, with Grant bantering with Steve, and Steve indulging him. You could tell that the relationship between the two of them was something that came both naturally and easily. You couldn’t help but to grin as Grant began to ramble about how cool Steve was, and how he swore he was better friends with Steve than you were.

“Mommy, isn’t Steve the best? You guys should totally get married so he can have dinner with us every day!” he swooned. “He even kinda looks like me, right?!”

That’s why you couldn’t help what came out of your mouth next.

“Grant, Steve is… He’s your dad,” you said quietly.

Grant nodded, then slurped up a noodle, “That’s why he’s so cool! He gets it from me, right Mom?”

“That sounds right to me,” You glanced up at Steve, and noticed his surprised expression. You mouthed something along the lines to ‘He’ll process it later,’ and waved a dismissive hand, before going in for another bite of food.

----

After putting Grant to bed, You and Steve stood at your kitchen sink, bumping elbows occasionally as the two of you silently worked together to wash and dry dishes.

The domesticity and familiarity of the action brought you an obscene amount of comfort. You remembered how you once believed that this is what your future would look like. Your thoughts were interrupted by Steve beginning to talk.

“Doesn’t this remind you of life after the first snap?” He asked, breaking the silence.

“Kind of. You’re not off the hook yet, by the way. You still have plenty of explaining and proving you’ve changed to do.” You set the last cup in the cupboard, then dried your hands off.

“I know, I know,” Steve began.

“We don’t even know if you’re ready for fatherhood. But right now, I kinda don’t care. I really just want you to kiss me.” You reached up to Steve’s cheek, and he pulled you in for a soft and chaste kiss.

You’d never felt more at home.

——

me with this fic:

[realcube]

'you're..you're wearing that-' he hesitated, swallowing the lump forming in his throat, 'for me?'

navi | taglist | nsfw part two

summary ➵ on your first date with tamaki, he’s already wondering why you romanticise a guy like himself

content warning ➵ reader wear make-up, a dress and the accessories pictured above, very insecure! tamaki, mild angst & fluff

credit ➵  thank you to @suneater18​ for the request and the pics belongs to hippieartesanatos

the moonlight penetrated through the sombre clouds which waved overhead, creating a picturesque night sky for you to admire on your date; as if the heavens were smiling down upon you, congratulating you for scoring such a nice guy.  

well, at least, that is what you would’ve thought if your date was sooner to start. currently, you were shuffling on a park bench, fidgeting with your phone as your eyes flickered between the screen and the gorgeous sight above you, anticipating when your date will finally arrive so you can admire it together.

however, twenty minutes had passed since nine o’clock — the time you had both agreed to meet each other at — yet you were still sitting alone, tamaki no where to be seen. what make it even worse was that he was ghosting all your messages and calls. 

perhaps it was the first-date jitters speaking but there was a voice lurking in the back of your head, whispering that you have been stood-up. however, you were too ashamed to just get up and leave now, so you figured that you may as well call your friend and ask them to join you.

your eyes burned with tears which you choked back as your fingers worked on their own to search your contacts for your friend’s number. there was a part of you that believed you were being to hasty but you truly couldn’t bare to just sit here and act ���hopeful’ any longer. with shaky hands, you tapped your friend’s contact as your thumb hovered over the phone icon.

“(y/n)!” 

you froze upon hearing your name called from a distance, your immediate reaction being to whip your head around to see who — or what — was in such desperate need of your attention that they were willing to yell your name from half-way across the park. 

and of course, it was none other than tamaki amajiki himself; dashing towards you at full-speed in a torn suit, muddy shoes and..his hair seemed to be unevenly cut. he wore a determined yet petrified expression as he came hurdling in your direction, a single stray tentacle dragging behind him as he ran.

a smile of both confusion and relief tugged at your lips, the pads of your fingers dabbing lightly under your eyes to rid of any puffy skin or dampness while simultaneously ensuring that you wouldn’t mess up your lashes or eyeshadow. 

“tama! you’re here!” you squealed, your hands automatically clasping together in excitement as he approached the bench, about to fall into the seat beside you due to how tired he was but pausing as he watched you spring to your feet and open your arms for a hug. his lips slowly curled into a weak smile, his expression softening and he didn’t waste a single second before throwing his arms around you, pulling you in for as tight of a hug that his worn biceps would allow him to.  

despite the fact he reeked of an ungodly amount of body spray, you still basked his embrace since this is the moment you spent the last three hours or so preparing for. you were quite shocked at how shabby he looked but you decided against questioning it, out of courtesy. but on the bright side, it really made you feel better about the outfit you had spent hours styling, yet you were still not completely sure about.  

tamaki suddenly pulled away from the hug so he could fall back onto the bench, letting out a hefty sigh and momentarily zoning out in order to catch his breath. you weren’t too sure whether it was appropriate to giggle or pout at the sight so you chose to not do either and instead, just awkwardly stand and stare at him.

a sharp inhale was all tamaki needed before he was finally able to sit up slightly and bow his head, folding his hands to you before blurting out, “i am so sorry i’m late, (y/n)!” and before you could even get a word in, he began his breathless explanation, “i got a small tear in my shirt and mirio said he’ll fix it but he made it even worse. then nejire said she’ll style my hair but she only knew a few male styles and said my hair was too long and before i could say anything she was chopping away at my hair-- and somehow mirio’s dog got ahold of my suit and it made the tears even worse! i was so stress and y’know when i’m stressed i stress-eat, so i began eating fish snacks and before i even knew what was going on, it was nine o’clock. so i ran here as fast as i could and i tried to manifest tentacles to help me move faster but it turns out i didn’t eat enough fish snacks so i only have one tentacle and i can’t even move it properly- look!”

the fact he said all of that in seemingly one breath left you stunned in place, with you eyes fixated on his rapidly moving lips until they instinctively shifted onto his single tentacle, laying dejected by his feet until it started squirming around. however, that was all it seemed capable of doing — squirming. 

“uuh,” you hummed, trying your best to stifle a snicker as tamaki was clearly in genuine destress. “it’s fine, tama! i was a bit worried that you wouldn’t show but it doesn’t matter, you’re here now so let’s focus on that.” 

your words somewhat calmed him down as his shoulders visibly relaxed, his red eyes tearing off the concrete ground to meet your kind gaze. a slight gasp escaped his lips as he noticed how gorgeous your make-up was, but before he could utter a compliment, his eyes went further downwards as he tried to process the whole of your outfit.

his cheeks immediately burned red at the sight; your stunning purple dress, shimmering heels and matching crystal accessories which were evidently worn to complement his own aesthetic. a certain piece which he was drawn to, was the golden, gemmed ear cuff you wore with pointed tips to form a similar shape to his own ears — one of his biggest physical insecurities.

“you look..” tamaki mused, momentarily cutting himself off to think of a word that would do you justice, “perfect.” his voice was hushed, hardly above a whisper but you were still able to make out what he said and a sheepish grin crept onto your features.

“thank you, baby!” you chirped, perking up slightly and giving him a little twirl, causing a burst of red to explode on his cheeks which he was quick to try cover with his hands. it was moments like these when he wished that hoodies were first-date appropriate, that way he could just sink back into his hood and pretend he doesn’t exist.

“you look really nice too.” there was nothing wrong with a little white lie every now and again. however, it wasn’t even said with the intent of being a lie as you secretly thought that the scruffiness kinda suited tamaki, like, he looked badass! like your prince charming who accidentally fell into a ditch.

your compliment didn’t help the increasing temperature of tamaki’s cheeks either, causing him to slump farther back in his seat as he muttered garbled speech under his breath. it took a good few seconds but eventually he was able to peer at you with a single eye through the inbetweens of his fingers,  “a-and i like your little ear cuff thing.

everything he said only widened your beam and make you feel more giddy, to the point where you were practically bounced in place, “thanks, tama! i saw it and immediately thought of you, so i bought it.” you stifled a squeal at how observant tamaki was being, praising all the small details of your attire which you thought would go unnoticed. “i decided to wear it today because remember how you showed me the tie you bought for our date?” you explained, vaguely gesturing at said tie which hung in tatters around his neck, “yeah, so, i thought we could match.”

it took him a few moments to process what you just said and while his brain was running on overdrive, you were met by his rapid blinking and frozen stature. having known tamaki for a while now, you knew how this was a fairly common occurrence when was truly stunned by something, so you allowed him some time in silence to consolidate. 

“so..” he started, trembling hand dropping from his face and onto his lap so you could see his whole bashful appearance. his gaze seemed to be trained on the floor, until he finally looked up to reveal the twinkle in his eyes, “you’re..you’re wearing that-” he hesitated, swallowing the lump forming in his throat, “for me?”

the thought that you were ashamed to be with him was something that constantly taunted him from the back of this mind. you were heavenly in a way that his words simply could not describe, though that didn’t stop him from trying. it was beyond him how a person as divine as yourself would even give him the time of day; let alone insist that he was beautiful, leave encouraging notes in his locker, comfort him when he shows even the smallest sign of being upset, give him praise on all the thing he was insecure about and so much more.

when he looked in the mirror, he did not see what you see. he viewed his ears as creepy and not a feature he should put on display, hence a part of the many reasons why he’s so fond of his hood. but here you were, all dolled up in his favourite colour just to showcase that you were with him. your ears decorated with pretty cuffs that made them look a similar shape to his, at first glance.

when he’d walk beside you through the corridors of the school or under the shade of the trees in the park, he’d feel the eyes of jealous passersby burn holes through his skin; despite the fact you weren’t even dating him yet, people just hated seeing a guy like himself by your side, apparently. 

he stopped eating before meeting up with you so he wouldn’t have any weird manifestation that could draw attention to himself. he started wearing his hood up at all times so people wouldn’t judge him for his elven ears. he refused to touch you just in case people thought you were dating and became envious of him, which would quickly turn to hatred. 

so why would you want to look like him? why would you want people to know that you are on a date with him? why did you act proud to be with him?

you quirked a brow at how confounded he sounded, thinking over your answer with a hum; you wore this outfit for tamaki and yourself because you thought it was pretty and it suited you. however, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that there was no need to give tamaki the full truth right now so instead you allowed him to enjoy his rare surge of confidence by replying with simply, “yeah, for you.”

you weren’t going to be surprised that he was flattered, by now you were well aware that tamaki held all your opinions on him in high esteem so that’s why you always tried to be as nice to him as possible — that, and it was just in your nature to be kind towards him when he’s been nothing but respectful to you back.

however, what you didn’t expect was to hear faint sobs from behind his hands and watch as crystalline tears poured escaped from the inbetweens of his fingers, racing down the back of his hands. “tamaki..” you murmured, reluctantly taking a seat next to him to wrap your arms around, rubbing comforting circles in his shoulders like you usually did when he was sad. although, you weren’t even completely sure that he was disheartened by your statement. 

“i’m sorry.” you spoke in a hushed voice, leaning in close to his neck until your nose brushed against his skin, resulting in him tilting his head so it rested upon yours. “are you okay?”

“please don’t apologise.” he croaked, stifling his snivels to try show that he wasn’t upset. “you did nothing wrong. in fact, you’ve done everything right. i’m the one who’s been messing up.” he felt your hand ghost over his own and without a second thought, he intertwined his finger with your own, freeing his other palm to place it on your shoulder and exposing his pale, tear-stained face is the process. 

“i know it’s hard but you should tell me what’s on your mind, tamaki.” you hummed, gently caressing the back of his hand with your thumb and planting a kiss on the damp skin of his cheek. his cologne was still suffocating strong but if you were to die, it would ideally be while cuddled up to him, under the celestial night sky. 

opening up had never been an easy task for tamaki; especially about a subject that concerned his physical appearance and emotions. but there was a knot in his chest that would simply come undone when he was with you. he couldn’t explain it, but all the barriers and walls he had established to avoid getting his feeling hurt or heart broken would come crashing down whenever he was with you. perhaps it was a familiarity, maybe it was your reassuring presence or might just be pure love and adoration. 

either way, he found him himself babbling on about anything and everything that bothered him with little regard for his own pride or secrecy, he voiced every thought that came to his mind in the moment. he told you just about it all — all his problems and insecurities —and you listened, offering him encouragement whenever he’d cut himself off, saying something along the lines of, ‘i-i’ll stop now, i sound silly’ or ‘you’re probably tired of hearing me prattle on’. though, of course you didn’t want him to stop until he had gotten everything off his chest as it was a rare sight for him to talk for such lengths at a time so the last thing you wanted to do was discourage him.

“i just..” tamaki stammered, coming to the end of his passionate ramble, “don’t understand why you want to be seen with me, let alone wear those.” he raised his shaky hand from your shoulder to gesture to your ear cuffs, “don’t get me wrong, they look cute on you, but i just don’t get why you’d want to have ears that look like mine.”

“because yours are beautiful!” 

he winced at the compliment and at how sincere you sounded, “well, i’m glad you think that, (y/n).” he muttered, not even having to finish his statement as the dejection in his voice made it obvious that he did not view himself in the same light. his gaze dropped to his feet which were shuffling uncontrollably,  “i don’t know why i’m making such i big deal about this. aren’t you annoyed?” 

your let go of his hands only to slip them around his neck and pull him into your embrace, you felt him tense up in your arms but slowly allow himself to relax his cheek onto your shoulder. “i’m not annoyed, baby. i get what you mean and it’s horrible that you feel that way.” all tamaki could do would tick his tongue in agreement. 

“i know i tell you this all the time but i honestly think you’re so attractive, inside and out. i was so excited when you agreed to date me, i could’ve died of happiness on the spot!” you chirped, momentarily jerked your head backwards so you could peck the tip of his nose, giggling as he scrunched his face up cutely at the sudden touch.

your angelic laugh rung through tamaki’s head, forcing his lips into a smile as he gawked at your adorable action. “i love you..” tamaki uttered, raising his voice ever so slightly to ensure that you heard what he said, “so much.” thanks to you, his sobs were now just mere sniffles into the crook of your neck. 

you inhaled sharply, eyes-widening at his words; you would’ve never thought he would be the first on to say ‘i love you’, but you were far from disappointed, in fact you felt yourself melting further into his touch.

you felt his grip on you tighten, his breathing slowly retuning to it’s regular pace as he squeezed his eyes shut, cancelling out all his other senses so he could focus on the way your body felt against his own. 

he wanted to be confident. he wanted to take pride in himself for you. he was tired of restless nights filled with tears due to his worries berating him for simply existing in your presence. 

it wasn’t going to be easy but he needed to start acting on everything you said. because eventually, it wouldn’t just be for you, it’d be for himself.

and of course, it didn’t go unnoticed by you when he started wearing his hood less often, when he began holding his head up higher as he walks by your side, the way he now shoots warm smiles at people who try to glare at him.

and five years later, how he didn’t bat an eye at deadly glare that the waiter — that had been subtly flirting with you all night — shot at him as he got down on one knee, in front of the whole restaurant. 

[dcforts]

[day 19: photographs]

Miracle likes Cas right away, from the moment he sees him coming out of the rift, one arm slung over Dean’s shoulders.  

One sniff at his boots, one at the hand tentatively offered seem to be more than enough to convince him. He doesn't even have to pet him once.

Dean can’t blame him honestly and he doesn’t mind sharing the morning cuddles if Miracle still chooses to trail after him in the kitchen when he gets up, keeps him company in the garage and comes running to him if he wants a cuddle.

He spends all his nap times with Cas though. At first, he gets in the habit of falling asleep laying across his feet whenever Cas is sitting down and more than once Dean finds him in uncomfortable positions yet unwilling to move, insisting that he'd rather suffer than bother Miracle.

One time Dean happens to have his phone in his hand so he stops to take a picture with an amused smile, despite the annoyed face Cas makes at the camera.

Then Cas and Miracle start napping together.

In the library, in front of the tv, and some nights on the bed leaving barely any room for Dean to squeeze in next to them and then, when they get to their new place, it happens in the study, on their couch, and still sometimes on the bed but Dean doesn’t need to try and squeeze in next to them anymore cause they got a bigger one.

Dean takes a picture the first time he sees them, because it's the first time and needs to be documented. The second time, they're in a weird position and he wants to show it to Cas later and the third time - well, they just look cute.

On the day they move out he takes a picture of Miracle in front of the bunker’s door. Then they stop for gas and Miracle looks so happy with his head sticking out of the car window that he has to take one there, and then another one in front of their new house and then he finds that he just – can’t stop.

He gets him a rubber chicken that makes a sound the annoys the crap out of Cas. Dean takes a picture of him as it happily chews on it.

Miracle tries to get Dean to play one afternoon, pushing his snout against his hands, scratching at his jeans and resting his head on Dean’s tight, looking up at him. The pleading eyes is what does it. Dean closes his laptop shut to concede defeat and stand up but first he snaps a picture of him.

He wakes from where he's fallen asleep on the couch in Cas’ arms and finds their feet trapped by a heavy furry donut. He reaches for his phone on the coffee table and snaps a picture of him.

It gets – a little out of control, but Dean doesn’t realize it, not until Sam comes around one time and he's scrolling through his phone, saying, “Dude, how many pictures of Miracle have you got?”

A very pregnant Eileen rounds the kitchen table to look over his shoulder and raises her eyebrows. “Wow,” she says, “you got a problem.”

Dean leans over to snatch it away from his hands. “What are you talking about?" he says, but from just a quick look at his gallery it's pretty clear that she may be right.

There's Miracle. Then Miracle. One of Cas. Miracle and Cas. Miracle sans Cas. He and Cas. Sam and Eileen from when they all went to that restaurant on Saturday. Miracle. Cas. Miracle. Garth holding a plant? A colour palette for the guest room. Three of Miracle that look identical. The tap he's eyeing for their unfinished upstairs bathroom. Miracle again. Miracle as he's running in the park -

He puts his phone down. "It’s Cas, he’s always stealing my phone,” he says lamely, and he knows he doesn’t sound at all convincing so he adds, “And Jack wants me to send him pictures all the time.”

Eileen nods to herself, “God wants my brother in law to text him dog pics,” she says and signs, "Okay cool. Totally normal."

“Whatever. You’ll be worse than me when that one gets out,” he says pointing at Eileen’s belly. She laughs and Dean looks at her to say, “Sam will be one of those that shows pictures of their children to strangers, you know that, right?”

Behind Sam's back she silently signs, "I know," but Sam catches her anyway and bitchfaces them both, betrayed. “I’m not! And - we were talking about Dean and his obsession. I’m surprised you don’t have them framed all around the house.”

Cas chooses that moment to come in from the back door with Miracle in tow. “Not yet,” he says, amused.

Dean doesn’t even bother arguing, all he has eyes for is that fluffy ball running happily towards him, as if they haven’t seen each other less than an hour before. "There he is!" he says with a silly voice that makes Miracle wag his tail more energetically.

He crouches to take his head in his hands, "Did you have a good walk? Yes?” he says as Miracle wiggles like a fish in a net. He frees himself from his hold just to run around the kitchen table and get himself quickly pet by Sam and Eileen before going back to Dean with renewed energy, jumping on him and licking his cheek. Dean scratches behind his ears, “Uncle Sam is jealous cause he's as not photogenic as you. Well, he won’t get the awesome Christmas card we prepared for him this year, will he? He doesn’t deserve it.”

Cas has put away leash and waste bags and he's watching them with a smile. "We need to wash up," he says, so Dean plants a parting kiss on Miracle's snout and says, "Alright, go," but he stays put.

And yet, as soon as Cas says, "Come on, Miracle," he immediatly runs to his side and even anticipates him out of the room.

Dean stands up, throwing his hands in the air, “Can you believe this? He does everything he tells him, I say ‘sit’ and he licks my face.”

Sam and Eileen laugh at him and then Sam gets to his feet.

"We should go, we still need to go to the store," he says as they put their jacket on.

"Thanks for the coffee," signs Eileen, and then asks "Are we still on for Friday?"

"Yeah."

Sam says, "Cool. And if you find that picture I asked you in Miracle's personal photo book send it my way."

Dean flips him off.

"Add me to your dog mailing list," says Eileen when they get to the door and Dean rolls his eyes but gives her a hug and says, "I will."

Sam shouts "Bye Cas," immediatly followed by a "Bye, see you on Friday," coming from the bathroom down the hall.

Dean stays on the door to watch them as they get in the car and drive away.

Then he goes back to the kitchen, turns the radio on, washes up the coffee mugs and starts dinner.

When the timer dings, he turns off the oven, sets the table for two and goes to find Cas.

Sure enough, he's in the bedroom and he's fallen asleep on top of the covers with a hand on Miracle's back and him curled towards him, his head near Cas' shoulder.

Dean stops in his track. Flipping his family off in his mind, he takes out his phone and snaps a picture of the two.

Then carefully, as not to disturb Miracle, he climbs into bed to lay down right on top of Cas.

Cas makes a oof sound when he drops his weight on his chest but one of his arms circles him all the same.

"If you sleep now you're gonna be up all night," Dean says kissing his chin and jaw and any part of his face he can reach.

"Mh," says Cas cracking his eyes open, "you're heavy."

"Dinner is ready."

At that, Miracles lifts his head and his ears perks up, clearly interested in the conversation. He starts wagging his tail. Dean and Cas share an amused smile.

"Just another minute," says Cas.

"Alright," says Dean, planting one last kiss against his cheek, but when he tries to push himself up, Cas doesn't let him go.

He says, "Stay," and Dean doesn't need to hear it twice to collapse down once again. Miracle does the same; Dean closes his eyes and feels his wet nose against his forehead and his breath on his face as he gets comfortable.

"Wait, you meant that for me or Miracle?"

"Both," says Cas, one hand stroking his back, the other on Miracle's head. "Did you take a picture when you came in?"

"No," mumbles Dean, and then after a moment, "Maybe."

Cas huffs a laugh and Dean gets to feel it against his chest. He keeps his eyes closed and tries to match his breath with Cas' under him and Miracle's on his face and that's how he dozes off, smiling.

joining @bend-me-shape-me in doing this!

[mldrgrl]

The New Addition

by: mldrgrl rating: PG-13 Summary: Hanella welcomes a guest for the weekend

Even more rare than a call from Becca was a FaceTime.  Texting was more her style.  So, when Hank picked up his phone and saw the incoming video call, he answered immediately.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“That’s how you answer your phone?” Becca said.  “Why does something have to be wrong?”

“Many apologies, Daughter, but the infrequency with which you grace us with your face from a remote location are rare as natural breasts on a porn star.”

“Do you think that’s an appropriate thing to say to a daughter, Father?”

“Fuck no, but surprise calls make me nervous.  What’s up, Kitten?”

“Don’t ever call me that again.  Is Stella there?”

“Yeah, I think she was grading some exams or something, hang on.”  Hank turned away from the phone and leaned over the sofa to try to see down the hall to the back room she was using as a study.  “Stella!  Stelllllllaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

“Oh my god, why are you screaming at her?” Becca said.

“I like to take the opportunity to rehearse my Stanley Kowalski impression when I can.  Here she comes.”

Stella came down the hall with her hands on her hips and her brows raised.  Hank held his phone up so she could see Becca on the screen and she immediately dropped her hands from her hips and softened her brows, but she quickened her step.

“Becca, darling,” Stella said.  “What’s the matter?”

“This is why I only text,” Becca said.

“Well, if you called more, we wouldn’t think shit had hit the fan somewhere.”

Hank opened up his arm as Stella came around to the sofa and sat down.  She leaned against him and he adjusted his grip on the phone so they were both in the frame and so that she could also see Becca.

“I have someone I want you to meet,” Becca said.

“How the hell did you meet someone during a pandemic?” Hanks asked.  “Oh my god, are you online dating?  You know those people usually turn out to be serial killers.”

“Dad!”

“Darling, don’t worry, it’s still statistically a very low probability even if related crimes have been on the rise.  Give me his name and social security number and I’ll run a background check.”

“Or her,” Hank interjected.  “We’re still holding out hope she’s a lesbian.”

“This is the last time I am ever calling you,” Becca said.

“Does your mother know about this guy?”

“Or girl,” Stella added.

Becca sighed and rolled her eyes.  She leaned down and tilted her phone at the same time so the view was of her ceiling and then she came back into frame with a small, brown poodle.  “This is Ziggy,” she said.  “A friend of a friend of mine was giving away her dog’s puppies and I picked him up this morning.”

“Lovely,” Stella said.  “He’s very handsome.”

“I haven’t even met him, but I guarantee this is my favorite guy you’ve ever introduced me to,” Hank added.  “Now you’ll be far too busy for online dating.”

“I’m not online dating, but I’m wondering if you can do me a favor?”

“What’s the favor?”

“Next month I have the writer’s retreat scheduled upstate.  It’s just for a long weekend, Friday to Monday, can you watch Ziggy for me?  He’ll probably be housetrained by then.  Maybe.  Hopefully.”

“Of course,” Stella answered, as Hank also said “Not a chance.”

Becca grimaced slightly.  “It’s just that I’d really rather not have to put him in a kennel.  I guess I can call Mom and see if she can pick him up, but it’s so far.”

Stella squeezed Hank’s knee.  “You don’t need to call Karen,” she said.  “We would love to watch him.”

“Fine,” Hank said.

“Thank you.”  Becca smiled and held the dog closer to the phone.  “Ziggy says thank you as well.”

Hank ended the call and then turned to look at Stella.  She tipped her head back to look at him as well.  He tried to scowl and she smiled.

“Why did you say no?” Stella asked.

“Why did you say yes?” he countered.

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second.”

“Because I don’t see a reason to say no.”

“Because I got her a dog once and where do you think that dog is now?”

“I wouldn’t know, where is it?”

“I have no fucking idea, that’s the point.  I went through all the trouble to steal the little fucker from the boyfriend of this woman I was...uh, actually it’s irrelevant how I acquired the dog, let’s just say I got a dog for Becca and fuck if I know what happened to the late, great Cat Stevens.”

“What in the world does Cat Stevens have to do with it?”

“That was the dog.”

Stella patted Hank on the knee and then tried to get up from the couch, but Hank pulled her back down.  “I have to grade papers,” she said.

“I just wanted to make sure you knew about the naked shower party I’m having tonight.”

“Wouldn’t any shower party be naked by virtue of being a shower party?”

“That’s a very good point, Sherlock.  I’d revise the invitation, but I’d rather just be redundant.”

“Mmhm.”  She pushed on his knee and this time he let her up.  “Text me the details, I need to get back to grading.”

“What, like a dick pic?” he called after her.

She glanced over her shoulder at him with one eyebrow raised.  He waited until she was back in the study to unbutton his jeans.

*****

Becca dropped the dog off on a Friday morning, bright and early.  Stella was awake to prepare for one of her classes, but Hank was still asleep.  He didn’t hear the drop-off, but when he woke up and wandered into the kitchen to make coffee, he tripped over the dog, stubbed his toe, and shouted a ‘motherfucker’ so loud he was pretty sure he was going to get scolded for it later.  The dog ran away.

“Yeah, you better run,” Hank mumbled, limping to the coffeemaker.  “Fuck.”

Stella startled him not a minute later when she smacked him on the ass.  He jumped and rubbed at his stinging backside, turning to her with a pout.  She was holding the dog in her arms and it was whimpering and holding on to her neck with its head turned away from him.

“What was that for?” he grumbled.

“First, for shouting expletives whilst I was on a lecture.”

“I’m sorry, Sherlock, I didn’t mean to.  Did they hear me?”

“No, fortunately, I was on mute.  There are student presentations today.  Which I must return to.”

“The damn dog tripped me and I stubbed my toe.  It might be broken.”  He leaned against the counter and lifted his foot up to show her his foot.  “See.”

Stella reached out and took a light hold on his toe.  He made a face at her and she gave it a rough tug to which he yelped and pulled his foot back.

“You’re fine,” she said.

“You’re mean.”

“Please don’t make enemies with Becca’s dog for the weekend.”

“He started it.”

Stella handed the dog over to Hank and gave it a scratch on the head before she walked away.  “I put the instructions on the refrigerator,” she said.  “Give them a read and then make yourself useful and take him for a walk.”

Hank pulled a sheet of instructions out from the magnet on the refrigerator and read through them.  They were very detailed.  Too detailed.  He wanted to crumble them up into a little ball and burn them.

“Ridiculous,” he said to the dog.  “When we left Becca with the babysitter the only unwritten rule was just not to kill her.  You’re a dog, you should be pretty self-sufficient.  Just don’t piss on the rug and don’t shit in any of my shoes and we’ll get along fine.  Deal?”

The dog twisted and wriggled in Hank’s arms to be put down and so Hank put him on the floor.  The dog sat down and then lifted a paw to scratch at Hank’s knee.

“Make up your mind, Zig.  Up or down, what do you want?”

The dog barked once and then sneezed.

“I don’t speak canine.”  

Ziggy whined softly and pawed at Hank’s knee again.  The coffeemaker beeped behind Hank and he turned around to shut it off.  He poured the coffee into a travel mug and left the cap off so it could cool a bit.

“Okay, Stella says you need a walk,” he said.  “I need to put some pants on.  Don’t lay anywhere where you blend into the floor.  I need my toes.”

The dog followed Hank into the bedroom and immediately jumped on the bed.  Hank shooed him off and undaunted, he explored from corner to corner, sniffing the walls and the furniture and the clothes on the floor.  Hank snatched up the jeans Ziggy was nosing and put them on.  He grabbed a fresh t-shirt from the closet and then went to dig through a duffel bag that Becca left for the dog’s leash.

It took Hank several attempts at getting the harness onto the dog.  Number one, because he kept stepping out of it as soon as Hank got it on one foot.  Number two, because he initially put it on backwards and didn’t know how the clip could possibly work when it was under the dog’s chest.  He finally figured it out though and it seemed secure.  He grabbed his keys, his wallet, a mask, and the coffee and headed to the elevator.

The half an hour walk with Ziggy made Hank understand the meaning of the term ‘boundless energy.’  If it wasn’t for the coffee, he couldn’t be sure he’d have made it.  When they got back, he unclipped the dog from his harness and even though it felt like they’d just run a marathon, Ziggy dashed across the room and hurdled himself onto the sofa where Stella was now sitting.  To Hank’s surprise, Stella laughed as she dodged excited kisses from the dog and didn’t scold him at all or tell him to get down.

“I am exhausted,” Hank said, collapsing onto the sofa beside Stella.  He grimaced and let out a pained ‘oof’ as the dog stepped on his crotch and up onto his chest.  “Fuck me, this dog is trying to kill me.”

“Have a nice walk?” Stella asked.

“That thing had to piss every five feet and terrorize all the squirrels and pigeons in the neighborhood.”  Hank pushed Ziggy away when he tried to lick his chin and the dog laid down on his chest, panting hot and heavy in his face.

“How’s your toe?”

“What toe?  Oh.  Not broken, I guess.”

“Lovely.”

“He is a total chick magnet though,” Hank said, waggling his eyebrows at Stella.  “Ladies were flocking to me like flies to honey.  Almost got a few numbers.”

“Oh?”

“Don’t worry I told them my wife would kick my ass before she let me take a hot girl’s phone number.”

“I think I might join you for this afternoon’s walk.”

Hank chuckled and nudged Stella’s leg with his knee.  “Kidding, Sherlock.  Some kid did ask me if Ziggy had an Insta and then had to explain to me that any dog who’s anydog has an Instagram account and we should get on it the sooner the better if we want him to be a doggie influencer.”

“A what?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Looks like you have a new nap partner.”  Stella inclined her chin towards the dog, who had dropped his head down to Hank’s shoulder and let out a deep sigh as his eyes closed.  She smiled a little and stroked the dog’s back a few times.

“I didn’t know you liked dogs so much,” Hank said.

“More of a cat person, really.  I don’t mind them though.”

“Did you read that list Becca left?  It’s more complicated than the Treaty of Versailles.”

Stella chuckled.  “It is a rather overly complicated schedule.  For a dog.”

“I say fuck the list.  I kept her ass alive for the requisite 18 years without a list, I can probably handle a dog for a weekend.”

“Tell that to Cat Stevens.”

“Oh yeah.  Wherever the fuck he is.  Okay, maybe we better stick to the list.  Though I would like to point out, Cat was Becca’s dog.”

“Maybe that’s why she made a list this time.”

*****

Ziggy was sound asleep when Hank turned off the lights in the main room.  The dog was passed out on his back, in his bed beside the couch, tongue lolling out of his mouth.  Hank tiptoed past him into the bedroom and quietly shut the door.  Stella was in the bathroom brushing her teeth.  He came up behind her and pressed her into the counter with his hips, sneaking his hands up her shirt to massage her breasts.

Stella grunted slightly through her nose and pushed her hips back into Hank’s.  She put her hand up to hold her hair back and Hank pulled his hands out from her shirt to do it for her.  She leaned over to spit into the sink and he held her hair with one hand and stroked her neck with the other.

“Thank you,” she said.

Hank finger-combed Stella’s hair up into his fist at the top of her head while she wiped her mouth and then he let it go and rubbed her shoulders.  She turned around and he held her by the hips.

“Where’s the dog?” she asked.

“Outside smoking a cigarette.”

“Do you think he should go outside once more?”

“He’s dead asleep.  He was like…”  Hank imitated the dog, rolling his eyes back and sticking his tongue out of the side of his mouth.

“You’re the one that was worried about him urinating on the rug.”

Hank pouted his lips and then nodded.  “Fine, I’ll take him upstairs.  But, you better be naked when I come back, or else I’m sleeping on the couch with the dog.”

“I don’t think that’s the threat you believe it to be.”

Hank narrowed his eyes and pinched Stella’s hip before putting his mouth to her neck and nipping lightly at the back of her jaw.  She laughed and pushed at his chest until he let her go.  He playfully slapped at her backside on the way out of the bathroom and she swatted his hands away.

The dog was still sleeping when he opened the door, but he whistled softly and Ziggy startled to his feet and then shook himself.  “Come on, hairball, we’re going outside.”  He snapped his fingers a few times and the dog followed him to the door to the roof.

Ziggy was hesitant on the stairs, taking them slowly and pausing every few steps to get his footing as he hopped up.  He ran around the newly landscaped deck, sniffing just about every nook and cranny and lifting his leg on half of them.  It had gotten chilly since the sun went down and Hank, in bare feet and a t-shirt, hopped up and down a few times and rubbed his arms as he called the dog back.

Hank was forced to carry the dog down the stairs when he wouldn’t budge from the top.  He made a few false starts, but ultimately sat down and wouldn’t move.  When he put him down, Ziggy stared up at him and then stayed closed to his legs as he went back to the bedroom.

“You, stay,” Hank said, pointing to the dog bed.

Ziggy sat down next to the bed.  Hank closed the door.  Stella was sitting up in bed, reading a magazine or journal, which she set down on her lap and took her reading glasses off.

“Did you really think that’s going to work?” she asked.

“He’s fine.”

Before Hank even finished, Ziggy was yelping and scratching at the door.  Stella raised her brows and Hank sighed.  He opened the door and the dog came flying through, jumped on the bed and leapt onto Stella with his paws on her chest, wagging his tail and kissing her cheek and chin.

“Settle, darling,” Stella said, turning her face away and pushing the dog back.  He gave a whining bark as he dropped down.

“Do they make ritalin for dogs?”

“He’s just a baby.”

Hank kicked the dog bed into the bedroom and then pushed it against the wall with his foot.  “Go get in your bed,” he said.

Ziggy laid down where he was, next to Stella.  He put his head on his paws and lifted his eyes up at Hank.

“Now he’s giving me puppy dog eyes,” Hank said.

“Shockingly, I believe that’s where that term came from.”

“Well, I don’t like it.  It’s too effective.”

“Resign yourself to the fact that we have a little guest for the weekend.”

Hank grumbled under his breath as he went to the bathroom to get ready for bed.  He stripped to his jockey shorts and snapped off the overhead lights on his way back.  Ziggy looked up from beside Stella like Hank was the intruder.  He even had the audacity to give a little growl when Hank leaned over to give his wife a kiss.  Annoyed, Hank flopped onto his back and the dog scooted closer and rested his head on his arm.

“Oh, now you want to be nice,” Hank said, reaching over to scratch the dog on the head.  “I’m surprised Becca hasn’t called.”

“What do you mean?”

“To check up on the dog or let us know she made it to the retreat.”

“She’s been texting me all day.”

“What?  What did she want?”

“Checking up on the dog.”

“She doesn’t trust us?”

“You didn’t question her motivations five seconds ago when you were surprised she hadn’t called.”

“I like to be fickle to keep you on your toes.”

Ziggy sighed and squirmed until he was on his back, all four paws limp in the air.  Stella chuckled and rubbed his chest before she closed her magazine and tossed it onto the nightstand.

“We’re letting this thing stay up here, then?” Hank asked.

“Yes.”

“I think I’m more of a cat person too.”

*****

Hank was surprised that the dog was no trouble during the night.  He woke briefly when Stella, always an early riser, got up and said she was going to take Ziggy for his morning walk and when she got back, would be entering in project results into her electronic gradebook for a bit.  He grunted in response and mumbled a reminder to leave him some coffee.

When he finally woke fully, left the bedroom far more cautiously than he had the previous morning.  Ziggy was nowhere to be found, but as soon as he started puttering in the kitchen, the dog appeared.  Hank crouched down and gave him a few scratches.

“What were you up to, hm?” he asked.  “Getting into trouble?”

Ziggy followed Hank as he went to the bedroom, most likely interested in the piece of toast in his hand.  Hank held the toast between his teeth, wiped his hands on his jeans, and picked up his phone from the nightstand to text Becca.

Morning sweetheart.  The furball is good.  Not to worry.  Haven’t shipped him off to a kennel yet and probably won’t.  Have a good time at the retreat.

Hank took a bite of his toast and then tore a piece off and tossed it to the dog.  Ziggy caught it mid-air.  About thirty seconds later, he heard Stella calling his name and he snapped his fingers at the dog to get him to follow him out of the bedroom.

“What’s up?” Hank asked, and shoved the rest of the toast into his mouth.

“What did you say to Becca?”

“Hm?” he mumbled, mouth full.

“She just texted me and said you’ve implied the dog has been sent to a kennel and wants proof of life.”

“No I didn’t,” he said.  “I said I haven’t sent the dog to a kennel so she doesn’t need to worry.”

“Why would you say that to her?”

“So she wouldn’t worry.”

“Well, she’s worried.”

“That’s not my fault.”

“I’ll send her a photo.  Ziggy, come here, darling.”  

Stella kissed the air a few times, but Ziggy thought trying to be caught was a game.  He bounded away from Stella and then stopped and bowed down, his hind end in the air and tail wagging.  She patted her knee for him to come, but he just jumped a few feet to the left and went back into the same pose.

“I’ll get him.”  Hank started towards the dog and Ziggy barked and then ran to the kitchen.  Hank ended up chasing him around the butcher’s block several times before he was able to catch him, but keeping hold of him was difficult.  “Stay still, Zig.”

Stella knelt down and quickly opened the camera on her phone.

“What’re you doing?” Hank asked.

“Taking a photo.”

“A selfie?”

“Do you have another suggestion?”

“I don’t know, I don’t do selfies.  Unless they’re dick pics.”

“Yes, I am aware, but we won’t be sending your daughter a photo of your penis.”

“Well hurry up, this guy is a bitch to hold onto.”

“Smile, darling.”  Both Stella and Hank smiled as she held down the photo button, but Ziggy wriggled and squirmed.  

“Anything usable?” Hank asked, setting the dog free.

“A little blurry, but they should suffice.”  Stella got up and texted the photos to Becca.  “She says thank you, and for you to never fucking text her again.”

“Brat.”

“You started it.”

*****

The day passed.  They took the dog to the park.  He napped when they got back.  Hank worked on his book.  Stella worked on a report for her class.  In the evening, they lit a fire in the new firepit on the roof and cuddled up on the daybed with the dog between them.

“Should we get a cat?” Hank asked.

“Do you want a cat?”  Stella countered.

“Not really.”

“Me neither.”

“It is kind of nice having this little hairball around though.  Not that I want him to stay.  He’s also annoying as fuck.  But, nice to have around.  For an hour or two.  When he’s asleep.”

“Kind of like you.”

“Hey!”

Stella laughed and Hank pushed her down onto the bed, rising to his knees to lean over and nuzzle her neck.  It was a ticklish spot for her, especially when caressed lightly, and it made her laugh harder.  Ziggy barked from where he was wedged beside Stella and under Hank.  He wiggled out from under them and then jumped on Hank’s back with his front paws, barking and growling.

“Relax, man,” Hank said, rolling to one hip off of Stella.  

“He’s being a good protector,” Stella said, laughing when Ziggy nipped at the blanket over their legs and tried to pull it away.

“He’s being a cockblocker.”  Hank wrestled the blanket back from the dog and then grabbed him under the chin, giving him a few firm scratches.  “You know what, Zig?  You be a cockblocker.  You be the best cockblocker you can be, at Becca’s place.  Cockblock the shit out of Becca, okay?”

Ziggy barked and wagged his tail.

“Good boy,” Hank said.  “Good little cockblocker.”

“Don’t say that to him,” Stella said.

“Why not?”

“One day you will need to face the fact that your daughter is a grown woman who deserves a healthy sex life.”

“Oh my god, I’m going to throw up.”  Hank groaned and flopped down onto the bed with his arm over his eyes.  “Consider me officially cockblocked.”

Stella moved up onto her hip this time and put her arm over Hank’s chest.  She kissed his chin and then pulled his bottom lip between her teeth.  He grabbed her around the waist and grunted softly into her mouth.  Ziggy trampled the both of them and stuck his cold nose into Hank’s cheek.

“Gah!” Hank groaned.  

The licked furiously at the both of them and Stella released Hank’s lip with a laugh and a scrunched face.  She buried her head down into Hank’s neck while curling into his side and Ziggy tried to wedge his snout down to keep licking her face.

“We are officially never, ever, ever, ever getting a dog,” Hank said.

“No argument from me,” Stella answered, sliding away from the dog and Hank and stepping off the bed.  “Meet me downstairs and I guarantee you won’t be cockblocked.”

“Oh?”

“Naked shower party for two in ten minutes.”

“The naked is redundant!” he called after her as she walked away.  He waited until she had started down the stairs to take Ziggy’s face in his hands.  “Listen.  This is a cockblock free zone, you got that?  Keep it up and you just may end up like Cat Stevens.  We good?”

Ziggy gave a short, gruff bark and then lifted his paw.  Hank nodded and they shook on it.  He got up and let Ziggy explore the roof for a few minutes while he folded the blanket up and put out the fire.  Not for long though.  He had a naked party to get to and he didn’t want to be late.

The End

[hyunpic]

Saw this floating around and thought it’d be funny to do : Assign your moots with a fanfiction trope and a member?

i read fanfics now and then but tbh im not sure what the tropes are so im going to just give scenarios to these people. there’s so many people i would like to do this to but i just can’t think of anything else right now lmao. also pls don’t take this seriously 😭😭😂 edit: I added rest of the members and tagged few more people because this was fun

@jiminswn @flipthatjacketjiminie you and jimin are decorating the christmas tree and suddenly jimin grabs you by your waist. you think he is lifting you to put up the star on the top but instead he throws you to the couch and you see him lifting up jungkook instead to put up the star. you just accept your faith to be the third wheel while you pass out because you hit your head

@kimchitae @taemaknae @taesjpg @flowerkth someone has been blowing up your phone with snapchats of their toes and you have found out it’s your classmate taehyung. it’s getting really annoying to you since the pictures aren’t even that good quality. you confront him in your next class about it. he tolds you off and you get flustered - you didn’t expect it. you promise him you would send him feet pics in return.

@r-m @flytomyjoon @himbojoon you are on a walk and it’s very sunny day. someone’s dog runs to you and before you even notice it pees on your shoes. you are frustrated. but that’s not all. you don’t have the time to get away when someone drives towards you with a bike and hits you. its namjoon who had just lost his dog. he thinks you have stolen his dog and yells at you. you are now enemies. turns out namjoon is your new neighbor... what will happen is you fall in love with him eventually but then you become enemies again because his dog keeps peeing on you.

@yoongistics @vjimin @daechwitamv you wake up and look around. you are not in your room. what is this place? you think to yourself. you start to panic but suddenly a person appears from the dark. it’s yoongi. he tells you you can’t leave. he has kidnapped you, you realize. but what is the motive? you are just a simple tangerine farmer. surely no one would want anything from you. yoongi then tells you to hand over the tangerine farm or else you die. you just can’t do anything else than obey him.

@seonghw-a you are engaged to wooyoung. you are planning your wedding with him and his best friend san who is also his best man. the wedding day comes and you start to walk down the aisle. someone opens the church doors. “STOP THIS NONSENSE NOW” it’s san yelling from the doors. everyone’s shocked. turns out san can’t accept you and woo getting married. he then runs and takes wooyoung with him. you never hear from them again 💔

@jeongookie @blueandgrcy you are at the gym. you thought to yourself the hot girl summer is coming up so why not try some working out stuff. you spot someone with a sleeve of tattoos and dark hair - that’s jungkook. he takes your breath away when he flashes you a smile. the weight you were lifting drops on you and and the last thing you remember is the hot guy coming to you being worried. you wake up at the hospital from coma. “wow was all of that a dream” it wasn’t - you notice the same person is next you and he looks so beautiful your heart stops.... tragic love story that never got to properly start

@jinsmin @jintae @sukunass you and your boyfriend jin had been dating for a while but never done anything more than kissing. one day you start to get morning sickness, it worries you. surely you can’t be..... pregnant? you take the test and it’s positive. how could this be? you thought to yourself. you hadn’t cheated on him either. you tell the news to jin. he isn’t surprised and he confesses to you “i am the son of god.... jinsus”

@hobeah @bisexualhobi you were sad all the time... you just couldn’t see the bright colors in your life anymore. until one day you saw an advertisement from a guy called j-hope. “have you lost your hope? don’t worry come to the hope world” you thought to yourself what’s there to loose so you went. you met the owner j-hope and started your sessions with him. the mantra he used was simple “i am your hope, your my hope, im j-hope” and before you noticed... he brainwashed you. only thing in your life that mattered was that he was your hope and you would do anything to make all the people in the world to join you so you two could make the whole world to be the hope world. it was better that way... the world should be ruled by this man with you on his side

[aceofspadegrass]

Today Is A Wonderful Day

Characters: Arisu Ryohei, Karube Daikichi, Chota Segawa

Genre: General. Arisu is entering his own strange Wonderland.

5.2k words

Well, here it is, my self indulgent fic! I honestly had a great time just getting this out. Will I continue this storyline? Who knows, we'll have to see, won't we? Five hours of typing, my poor pinky~✨

Apologies if anyone seems off in characterization, this is again more self indulgence and a bare string of consistency.

The sun was bright, today. Perfect for a picnic, or to swing, or gardening.

It was such a shame he didn’t like going out much when he could spend all his days at his chair, headphones slipped over his ears, his grip around worn but well-loved plastic. Thumbs flick this way and that in accordance to what he needed to do with the avatar moving across the screen.

It was easier to not have to think about the outside right now. His father was always looking at him with disappointment that he wasn’t the son he wanted, but then again, was he ever the son he wanted? There was his brother anyways, the model of a smart, well adjusted man. Ever since they were young his father’s eyes weren’t on him, the first child.

But he shouldn’t complain, he did this to himself, being practically useless and not up to the standards he should have been able to achieve. He wasn’t worth his father’s attention, even if he wanted even a little bit, just for a fraction of his acceptance and pride to be for him.

But it wasn’t like he was alone in life. He had friends, two of them, and they were supportive of him, and he was supportive in return. He couldn’t ask for better friends, really. The tallest of the three, Karube, was a bartender, and willing to let his friends in to sit at the counter and chat their hours away, even if he was mindful of any alcohol they consumed. The shortest, Chota, worked in IT, although he tended to skip in order to come join them in their little adventures and hangouts, or to indulge in his own whims.

At the moment they were both busy, so he couldn’t meet up with them out on this beautiful day. It would be fun, maybe, spending their hours at the park, or maybe heading down to the arcade. A smile works its way up to chapped lips, and he instinctively licks at them when the skin tugs the wrong way, to alleviate the feeling. Yeah, that sounds great. Hanging together with them is great, being around them is such a wonderful feeling for him.

The screen flickers with a 1st place banner, and he quietly cheers, shaking his controller in his hand as a burst of achievement hits him, washed through his chest and makes him straighten his posture after who knew how long. It sinks back to a more relaxed posture as he starts a new game, and he starts all over again.

Hours pass, and the sun is lower in the sky, and Arisu remembers he hasn’t eaten since yesterday.He gets up, groaning a little as his muscles remember how to stand again, and he shuffles over to the kitchen. There was a note on the fridge. He glances at it, eyes flickering over the neat scrawl.

‘ Will be home late. Buy groceries. - Dad ’

Figured. Arisu opens the fridge, just to see if there was anything remotely edible before he would have to inevitably head out to refill the fridge again so that they could eat all week. There was only condiments, a half bottle of orange juice, and some other bits here and there that Arisu wouldn’t have the slightest clue what to do with. Shoulders slump, and he shuts the door and shuffles towards his bedroom door to get changed to head out for the day. It wasn’t an outfit worth taking time to pick, as it was only a grocery run. He grabs some simple jeans, comfortable and stretchy, as well as a t-shirt, light blue with the picture of a dog printed just behind the pocket on the left side of his chest, an illusion of it sitting there.

There was money on the table when he heads back out on the table he didn’t notice before, with another note on it, simply labeling it as grocery money. Arisu pockets the money into his jeans as well as his phone, and with a goodbye to an empty house, he leaves and heads into the open, warm world.

The walk to the grocery wasn’t long, but it still took some time, so Arisu was left to his own devices, in his own thoughts. They were simple thoughts, like how sunny it was, how people were walking by with their own lives in motion, how he wished he could hang out with Karube and Chota. He could always text them, they’d respond to him, but he didn’t want to bother them because he was being too selfish. So his phone remains heavy in his pocket as he strolls along the street, glancing around every so often to make sure he was going the right way.

There was a ping on his phone, and he pulls it out, staring at the new message. It was an unknown number, Arisu frowning a little at the text.

‘ Would you like to see something Wonderful? ’

It was a strange text, and way too ominous. Arisu ignores it, and he slips it in his pocket and looks back up, his stride never faltering as he continues onwards.

The text never left his mind though. As he stands in the aisle of the store, trying to find a decent box of cereal to put into the trolley cart, the thought filters back to him as he picks up a box, turning it in his head. Just what was that? It must’ve been a prank, or perhaps a text bot. Maybe even a sex bot, there were way too many of those, and he wasn’t interested in getting duped. But this one, for reasons Arisu couldn’t explain, this one felt…. different, somehow.

A ping startles him out of his thought. He looks down, and his hand trails back to his phone, stopping just before he pulls it out, fingers on glass and fabric. What if the number texted again? Arisu bites the inside of his lip. He was curious, that much was sure.

What did it want with him?

Arisu takes a slow, deep breath. He couldn’t do anything if he didn’t know. The phone slides out of his pocket and held in front of him, just high enough for the screen to register him and turn on.

Just as he thought, it was the same mysterious number again.

‘ Have you ever wanted to experience something out of this reality? ’

It was….. strange. Confused eyes flicker through the text — once, then twice. There wasn’t a sign of an attachment, where usually there could be a picture attached, trying to get an interested soul piqued. That, and there was no hint of a clickbait to be seen. His other hand, which had been on the handle of the cart, tightens around the cool plastic bar.

To be fair, he always wondered, just a little, if life was different. If he would ever see something, experience something, that wasn’t only contained in digital formation. He would joke about it with Chota and Karube, sometimes, thinking about fictional situations and what they would be achieving. But that was it, it was fictional, and nothing more.

The rest of the shopping leaves that text floating around in his brain, a puzzle that Arisu was itching to figure out what it held, all the way to him paying and making his way back. The trip was ordinary, only letting it gently warm underneath the sun, baking slowly and rising until it overtook any other kind of thought. “ I’m home.” He said, to an empty house. He slips out of his shoes and makes his way inside, dropping the bags of groceries down by the kitchen, planning to get to them later. At the moment though, he needed to get this thought out or else it would bother him for a while. He pulls a chair out and takes a seat, taking his phone out of his pocket in the same motion, and opens his messaging. The little notification for that mysterious number lingers, but he ignores it in favour for the group chat that he shared with his two friends.

Arisu: i have a question

He didn’t have to wait long for a response, as he watches the grey bubbles appear.

Karube: what’s up

Arisu: i got this really weird text

Arisu: and i dunno what to do

Karube: what does it say?

Arisu’s fingers lull above the keypad. Was it worth telling them? They’d probably share the thoughts of it being some sort of bot or perhaps some odd pranks. It was natural, something explainable.

But this was eating at him, and Arisu needed other thoughts.

Arisu: they were talking about seeing something wonderful and out of reality

Karube: definitely sounds weird

Karube: did it link anything?

Arisu: no

Arisu: its just the messages nothing attached

Chota: Maybe its a dick pic

That earns a small snort, Arisu rolling his eyes. He would hope not. Karube: wouldn’t they have attached it anyways then???

Chota: Ah yeah true

Chota: Maybe they’re asking permission?

Arisu: why though

Karube: dunno dude

Karube: just ignore it

Arisu: its been on my mind for a while

Karube: srsly?

Karube: hmm…….

Arisu stares as his screen as the bubbles flicker in and out. He didn’t know what he’d do. His phone pings again, and the notification slides in from above. It was the number again.

‘ Come experience the greatest encounters of your life! ‘

Arisu frowns, and he quickly exits the chat and stares at the tab for this strange number. Now that he looks at it, the number itself looked odd. At first glance it was numbers in a format of a normal phone, but now that he looked closely, it looked a digit too long for a Japanese phone number, much less did he recognize the area code.

He wasn’t all that much of a phone number whiz though, so he could be mistaken.

There was a new text from Karube, and he opens the chat again.

Karube: if it’s really bothering you, no harm in playing along right? just see what it is and then back out

Karube: no hamr done

No harm done, huh?

Arisu sits there, finger hovering above the option to text back, as he thought through his options. He could always just delete it, or send a text telling whoever this was that he wasn’t interested. He could follow Karube’s idea of playing along, finding what this was before leaving it behind, free of his insatiable curiosity.

The notification pings with another text again, and it was three simple words:

‘ Do you accept? ‘

Arisu bites his lips, and he sets his phone down, screen down as he approaches the grocery bags. He needs to think about this.

The familiar feeling of his phone in his hand was comforting yet so stifling at the same time, Arisu staring at the now opened chat log. The strange texts were there, without a single response from him. There was no links, no images, no anything to reveal their intents. Hell, the log didn’t even start with those cheesy greetings of a hello, diving straight into its offer of something ‘Wonderful’. What even was the meaning of that? The capitalization of that one world made it even stranger. The other texts that followed only built onto this strange, supposedly otherworldly thing, whatever it was. It was persistent and curious, and Arisu didn’t know why he was so interested in figuring it out.

His fingers hover over the bar, worrying the inside of his lip with his teeth. Is it really worth contacting it back? All for his curious mind to stop thinking? What if it was nothing to even worry about, and he just got himself fooled into some weird scheme for his credit card or his location?

Who even was this strange, unknown identity?

Arisu blinks, and he nearly drops his phone when he sees the bubble on the right side, his side, already pasted into the log.

Arisu: who are you

He…. didn’t remember writing that. His fingers move to delete it, but a response comes before he could press the trash icon.

Unknown: Who I am doesn’t matter! Are you interested in seeing something out of this reality?

Arisu stills, and he accepts his fate. No harm in finding out what this was. Worse case scenario, he has fun playing along and he can push this to the back of his mind, so it can’t be that terrible.

Arisu: that depends

Unknown: So you ARE interested! That’s wonderful!

Unknown: Are you willing to see something Wonderful?

Arisu: what even is it?

Arisu silently watches the bubbles, which appear, the disappear, as if there was really a person behind this odd number, this strange offer of something far too vague. But it was that kind of thing that still pulled him in, curious like a child watching something fantastical in front of their young eyes.

Unknown: Something only you have only thought couldn’t exist before! Something that will catch you and bring you along on a journey you would never experience any time elsewhere in your short life!

Unknown: Don’t you want something more than what you have at hand now?

Arisu freezes. Did it know….? He shakes his head. No, it couldn’t have, this was just some elaborate thing. There was no way it could have the slightest idea of how listless his life was going. It was a blanket sentence, something to catch a large group without pinpointing a singular person without it becoming a case of stalking.

That doesn’t stop Arisu from quickly glancing around his room before he slowly slides underneath his blanket, hiding from the world for just a little.

Arisu: why do you ask?

Unknown: It’s an opportunity of a lifetime! All you have to do is say yes, and you’ll see something Wonderful.

Arisu: and if I say no?

Unknown: That would be sad, but you can do whatever you want. You can continue on with your life, and see where that takes you.

Unknown: But you’re getting the offer that most people never are given the chance to take.

Unknown: Just say yes, and you’ll see something Wonderful, experience something Wonderful.

Unknown: What do you say?

Arisu knows, in the back of his mind, that this was a horrible idea. These were kidnapper words, words that parents and teachers and everyone tells others not to listen to because it only means bad things. These were way too odd to take seriously, and any rational mind would back out now, delete the log and continue on with their lives and talk about the strange encounter in the future, as if were nothing more than a funny story.

Rationally, Arisu should have said no. He should have said no, went back to doing nothing all day but play games on the computer, on his phone, on the television. He should have said no and went back to being practically shunned by his family, to only really hanging out with his two friends, to merely existing and drifting through life.

He should have just walked away and said no. He should have walked away like any other person would.

But his fingers slowly type out his answer, and he seals the deal in only a few words.

Arisu: alright.

Arisu stares at the screen, his breath held in his throat as the bubbles pop out, squeezing his poor phone as his thoughts flood in, regret and confusion and a tingling in his head and in his arms and in his everything.

Unknown: Wonderful♥️ Welcome to Wonderland, Alice.

Arisu takes a deep, shuddering breath, darkness in his vision. It’s hot, it’s stuffy, it’s-

He frantically sits up, and his racing thoughts get ahead of him as he looks around, chest heaving. It’s dark, where was he? What happened? He tries to take deep breaths, and he squeezes his eyes shut as the ringing in his ears dissolves until it was only quiet whirs of what might be the air conditioner running. He counts as he inhales, holds, counts as he exhales, holds, repeats.

His body returns to him after a while, and he opens his eyes to his room. It was just his room, with nothing out of place, with the AC slowly whirring in the background. Everything was okay, nothing happened to him. Arisu presses a hand to his chest, faintly registering the blanket. It was over his head, his brain supplies to him once he was calmer, that’s why it was so stuffy. He didn’t remember falling asleep, or what…..

The text.

Arisu searches around for his phone, hands swiping over the bed until it hits a solid object, and he fumbles as he picks it up, turning it on. There was no new texts, just the screen he was used to seeing. He clutches it anyways, swiping. It was only to prove it wasn’t just some dream. Arisu opens the messaging app, and his breath catches once more when he sees the text, that text with the heart attached, the number that was clearly not from a strange dream. He doesn’t open the log, the sight of it enough for him as it stares back at him.

He really said yes. To what exactly, he couldn’t say. It was far too vague and fantastical to explain, but something in him made him agree. Fingers brush against the edge of his phone, and Arisu wonders if he made a mistake.

The thought was making him feel strange, and he needed a distraction. Karube and Chota were probably asleep at this time, so that was out. He goes to one of his puzzle games instead, the shiny colours staring back at him. He starts, and his attention becomes absorbed in swiping that box left and up and right, zoning out his thoughts.

Sunlight peeking through his curtains was the only thing that pulls him out, and Arisu faintly realizes he was playing his game for hours. He rubs his eye as he sets his phone down to stare at the partially sealed window, and he sighs, flopping and covering his eyes with an arm. No use sleeping now.

Arisu gets out of bed, and he stretches a little as he trods to the bathroom. He doesn’t know what time it is right now, but it was probably early. Maybe too early, as when he gets out he gets a whiff of coffee, and the sound of someone else awake. It was far from the bathroom though, so Arisu continues on his way to brush his teeth and use the toilet. As mint hits his tongue Arisu remembers he forgot to eat, and he grumbles lightly under his breath. He completely forgot. Arisu leans over the sink and spits the foam out his mouth. No matter, he can eat breakfast and he’ll be fine. Being home didn’t expend that much energy anyways, and he could survive with a skipped meal or two.

Arisu walks out to the kitchen, and he gets a glimpse of his father and brother making their way to the front door, donned in suits. He waves as they leave, but he gets nothing in return, his hand dropping to his side. Figures, they wouldn’t bother looking to say goodbye to him when Arisu wasn’t consistent with waking up as they left like this. Still he could say that he made an effort. Arisu turns his attention to the fridge, and he opens it, grabbing some random item and popping it into the microwave for breakfast. He stands there as he waits, watching the thing spin. Once it was finished, he pops open the door and actually checks what he even put in there. It appeared to be some instant breakfast sandwich still nestled safely in its partially opened package, Arisu sliding it out of its rectangular prison and onto the counter to cool a little before he even attempts.

When it was, he slips it from its nest and held it in his hands, the only covering now being a paper towel as he eats, grabbing a bottle of water on his way as he wanders a little around his house. Just like always, there was nothing of importance for him to attend to, his only plan being gaming all day and perhaps texting his friends.

His body moves towards the window, and he takes in the outside as he sips his water, the sun shining in the sky, undeterred as always. It was such a beautiful day outside, and yet it was such a shame he didn’t have any reason to-

Arisu’s attention catches on something, and he pauses, lowering the bottle as he squints to something in the distance. It was faint, but it was there, disappearing out of sight as soon as he focused on it. Something white, but also pink in colour, disappearing into the trees.

Arisu blinks, and then he remembers he doesn’t really live anywhere close to a park.

So why were there trees?

His grip tightens around his sandwich and his bottle of water, and something tickles at the back of his mind that he should go down there. Eyes narrow, and then the memory of yesterday comes back to him, and they widen once more. Suddenly he’s rushing back to his room, scarfing down the sandwich. The burst of energy was new, as was this sense of urgency, and Arisu didn’t know what to make of it just yet.

What he did know is that this was it. He chugs the rest of his water, and he’s slipping on some comfortable pants and shirt and rushing out of the house, only barely remembering to lock up behind him. The only thing he had on him was his phone and the spare house key, but that didn’t matter right now.That urge to follow that white and pink something, to see if that strange bunch of trees that he didn’t remember before was that out of reality experience.

Why he was convinced to go along, even he didn’t know. There was nothing stopping him from this, from finding out if it was really real, and so shoes pound against ground as he runs towards where he swears he saw the trees.

When he gets there, it only answers him with green foliage and deep brown bark. The trees were real, and Arisu was standing in front of them, the smell of wood and something natural amongst the scent of artificial manmade livelihood. He looks around him, people continuing on their daily lives, packs and individual alike, and nobody paid the trees in front any mind.

Arisu looks back at the trees, and his chest pangs with what he faintly recognizes as excitement, as a rush of something else that he can’t put the words to at the moment. Trepidation, perhaps. But he wasn’t afraid, not in the least.

He takes his phone back out, and he texts something to the group chat.

Arisu: lets see where it takes me then

With one definitive, solidifying breath, he tucks his phone into his pocket and walks into the forest. The smell hits him stronger once he crossed the supposed threshold. The ground was still the same pavement as he was used to seeing, but the area around him was definitely new to him. Trees lined the road, and it seemed to only go in one direction. Clearly sketchy, but curiosity overtook him, and Arisu lets his feet carry him onwards, deeper.

It didn’t seem to end, he realizes as he watches the trees pass by him. It was fairly quiet, with faint sounds that at least told him he wasn’t alone, not completely. With how long he’s been going forward, he wouldn’t be surprised if he’s walked through a building if this was any more real. The path was far too strange, far too simple and peaceful. The only reason he hasn’t given up now was the fact that it was so strange, and something kept beckoning him to continue forward on this peculiar path.

Come to think of it, he didn’t even feel tired, despite all this walking. His feet didn’t ache, his legs didn’t give up, his breathing was completely normal. Arisu was aware he wasn’t much of a healthy person and likely would’ve at the very least needed a break and a bit of water at this point, but Arisu only rationalized it being a side effect of this odd experience.

He doesn’t know how much time passed, but he finally stops when the path finally turns into dirt, dark and healthy. It didn’t look that well stepped on, and there were grey stones embedded in it, a natural rendition of the slate grey concrete stones Arisu had been walking across. Arisu stands there, and finally looks back, staring far into trees and the singular pathway. He squints, trying to see if he could see the way back into the city, but it was nothing more than a pinprick into nothing, and he turns back around to spot a glimpse of white and pink. He gasps, and from where he was, now upon more even, closer grounds, he could make out a human running away. “ W-Wait! Hold on, where’re you going?!” Arisu yells, and he pushes onwards, his feet racing across dirt and stones in an attempt to reach this mysterious figure. The white and pink remains in his visions, although far, and it was calling to him without uttering a single word. Words weren’t important here, just the urge that tugged at his chest that called him forwards, allowing him to run after this faraway figure. Arisu barely registers the lack of fatigue that should have taken to his body, strain from not getting nearly enough exercise to even make it this far. His attention was on that figure, which continued to run away from him, and he wanted to know who else was here with him, on this tree and dirt lined path.

Why was he so intent? Arisu didn’t know, but he continues until the pink and white gets closer. Only when he can make out the person clearly does he realize how odd the silhouette of this person was. Their hair was cut in a bob, and they wore a pink windbreaker with a white rabbit printed on the back, along with simple pants that looked rather easy to move in. From the back view, Arisu realized that it was a young woman, or at the very least had a slim and fit figure. Normal things, really.

It was the ears that caught him off guard, long and white and on the top of her head, bouncing as the same rate she she was running. Rabbit ears, just like the ones on her jacket, except she was definitely human. Maybe it was a headband, but her hair flowed and swayed freely, and Arisu didn’t think he could see any hint of any headband on her head. It was strange, and Arisu tries to pick up his pace.

“ Wait! Hold on, can I talk to you?” Arisu shouts at her as he chases the rabbit, and finally he catches her attention. Her runs slow to a jog, and Arisu slows in a less smooth manner, until they were both at a halt, the girl still meters away. “ Can we talk? Can I ask where I am?” Arisu asks, and he’s mildly surprised when his chest doesn’t heave like he expects, although he was breathing a little deeper as he expected.

The girl slowly turns around, and her eyes were a little confused yet calm as they lock with Arisu’s. She blinks, and she looks around, then back at Arisu.

“ You actually followed me.” She said, and Arisu nods in response. He didn’t know why she was so confused that he followed, there was only this one path after all. Was it because he ran after her? He looks at the ground in embarrassment. Hopefully she didn’t think he was weird for chasing her-

“ Hey, it’s alright. I was surprised you did.” Her voice was closer, and he jerks his head back up, and she’s closer. He sucks in a quiet breath when one of the ears twitches, his eyes locked on the white lagomorph ear. His staring was clearly evident though, as she gestures with a hand for his attention to get off, Arisu looking back at the girl’s face and bowing his head.

“ Ah- Sorry-“ He sputters, and her lip twitches upward.

“ No, it’s alright, I understand. It’s real, trust me. This is your first time, right?” She says, and Arisu nods. The girl copies him, as if to take that in, and her small smile drops into a thoughtful look, dark eyes scanning him briefly. “ What’s your name?” “ Ah- My name is Arisu Ryohei, it’s nice to meet you-“ Arisu bows again, this time in greeting, and she lightly chuckles.

“ It’s very nice to meet you then, Arisu.” She greets, and she bows a little in return. “ My name is Usagi.” Arisu looks at her again, eyes wide. Her name was Rabbit? A little on the nose, but Arisu wasn’t about to judge. After all, his own name was the same pronunciation as Alice. “ So….. where am I?” Arisu asks again, and Usagi looks to him.

“ This place has no real name, but if you want, people before you have called this Wonderland. Although… we’re not in the one you immediately think of.” She says, and she jerks her head to signal to him to walk with her, Usagi taking simple strides. Arisu matches her pace, and he nods.

“ Alright. Fair enough.”

The walk was just as peaceful as it was before Arisu even met Usagi, but it was just as comfortable as it was beforehand, if not a little awkward knowing he now had company. His gaze couldn’t help but occasionally look towards the lapin ears, curious. His hand comes up before he realizes what his brain unconsciously did, and they brush against soft fur. Usagi steps away in surprise, looking up at him as her ear twitches. Arisu backs away in return, and he feels his face heating up.

“ A-Ah- Sorry-“

Usagi frowns a little, but it wasn’t one that was really sad, just annoyed. Arisu can only bow his head and apologize again, and she lets out a soft sigh. “ Next time just ask, okay?” Arisu nods, and they continue onwards, Arisu holding his hands into his pockets to prevent another strange incident. At the very least he now knew that they were 100% real, and that she could feel them.

“ Where are we heading towards?” He asks after a particularly long stretch of silence and walking along the dirt and stone path. Usagi glances up at him, Arisu looking down at her and tilting his head slightly.

She looks straight once more, and she points to something Arisu doesn’t see. “ Somewhere you have never seen before, something that you won’t forget for the rest of your life, Arisu. Are you ready?” Arisu nods. He’s already made it this far after all, and she nods once, and she starts into a jog. Arisu blinks, and he picks up his pace, and he can’t help but smile a little, hoping what she said, what that strange text, really meant it.

He wanted to see this Wonderland for himself.

[sylvie-writes]

Can you do a part two of what you just posted of Chris announcing your pregnancy? And have it be of them announcing the birth of their baby? And him talking about how they waited so long (6-8 weeks maybe?) just to be able to enjoy being new parents without the media involved and have him do a huge photo dump of newborn photos with dodger and him and the reader? And then maybe add in some fan comments giving them nothing but all the love and support in the world?!

Side note: I’m literally sobbing because your writing is 12/10!

LIVESTREAM

a/n: sorry for the wait, lovely. and now i'm sobbing because of your very sweet note. while i go get some tissues, enjoy the story! 

Part 1, Big Brother Dodger, is on my masterlist! 

“Chris, honey, you ready?”

You were sitting on the couch, phone propped up on the coffee table, prepped and ready for a live stream. It had been a few weeks since your son was born and you and Chris were finally ready to share the news. For the time that you had him to yourselves, it was very much enjoyable and you were able to make many memories, but now was the time you’d share with the media and fans. When it came to anything related to your baby, the world normally went into a panic, but a positive one. You really did enjoy reading some of the kind words from Chris’s fans. 

Soon footsteps clobbered down the stairs and you saw Chris, hair a bit disheveled from running, but looking good nonetheless. In his arms, was your son who was dressed in a little patriots onesie that your husband insisted he wear for the livestream. You agreed as long as your son wore the matching hat, which surprisingly he didn’t fuss about. 

Taking a few more strides, Chris joined you on the couch, one arm around your shoulders, the other supporting your son. 

“Okay, we’re live in three, two, one.”

The camera started to stream and your face drew into a happy smile upon seeing hundreds of people gather into the livestream. As they entered, hundreds more of comments flew by, mostly talking about your son who squirmed in Chris’s arms, making his presence known.

After a few seconds, a couple hundred people were in and you began talking.

“Hi folks! I’m sure you’ve all been along this journey with Chris and I, so we’d like to proudly announce the arrival of our son, (your son’s name)!”

Chris lifted up the baby to sit in his lap, grabbing the child’s chubby arm and waving at the phone, a silly smile on his own face. 

“Today, my wife and I are going to try our best to answer your questions, so drop them!”

Squinting, you started to see and read more and more comments, catching a few. 

“First question! From Elise, she asked how old is our son? He looks a bit older than a newborn.”

You look to your husband, who takes the question.

“Nice detective work, Elise,” He laughs, “(your son’s name) is 8 weeks old. We kept him a little secret so we could get some time in with him, ya know?”

As Chris finished the question, a bunch of hearts and puppy dog eye emojis zoomed by. Soon, another question came onto the screen, this time your husband reading it to you.

“Scott Evans asks, will you share pics of the baby and dodger?”

Immediately, Chris burst into laughter seeing as his brother had weaseled into the comment section.

“My brother in law, ladies and gentlemen,” A few giggles slipped from your lips, “But yes Scott, we are going to share photos.”

For a good hour or so, you and Chris answered many comments from the fans, even receiving a few that were just compliments. One viewer was so kind and sent you the sweetest message, making your eyes water a bit. 

“Hi (y/n)! I just wanted to say, I really admire how you’ve been so open with us, as we know you and Chris had some trouble. You’ve been an inspiration to me, as my husband and I have had the same problem, but I wanted to say congrats on your bundle of joy! We love you so much! - Anna.”

You read the message and felt the tears prick at your eyes, without second thought you sent the woman your love. Chris noticed how emotional you were getting and leaned to kiss you on the temple.

“I have to agree with Anna.”

Looking up, your husband smiled down at you, and you both knew the viewers were eating up the moment. There was no doubt that you wouldn’t be on ET tonight.

When the livestream was over, Chris went to go place the baby down for a nap, as the little guy experienced a pretty long day. He soon returned, plopping down onto the couch beside you, where the phone was now in your hand, the media already posting about the events prior. In particular, you saw an article titled, “Why Chris Evans and (y/n) Evans is Hollywood’s best couple.” You read the article just for the thrill of it and came across the picture of Chris kissing you earlier. Feeling a bit flustered, you smiled to yourself, which made Chris sneak a peek at your phone. He saw the picture and decided to kiss you again. Gently, the man brushed a piece of hair behind your ear and kissed your neck, making you lean into his touch. His hand was resting on your shoulder, as you closed your eyes, leaning against said arm. You just sat there in bliss as your husband planted fluttering kisses to your neck, especially the sensitive spot that made you titter a bit. 

A few days later, Dodger was resting on the back porch with you, sitting on the outdoor sofa enjoying the nice weather. You decided to bring the baby and Dodge out for fresh air while Chris did a zoom interview. He was supposed to be out in an hour, giving you some nice downtime outside. Currently, Dodger was curled up on the couch beside you. Baby in your arms, you snaked a hand out to pet him. Suddenly, Dodger shifted and laid his head on your thigh, looking up at the baby. He looked so precious and was so great around your son, that you lowered the sleeping baby to Dodger’s level where he softly sniffed the boy’s tummy. You grinned at the sight of your two boys interacting and you wished you were able to get a picture.

Wish granted, your husband had sneaked out of the office early, and watched the whole thing go down. He thought to himself that this would be the cutest first picture of the many that would ensue. Discreetly, Chris took the picture and walked towards you, now gaining your attention. There was just one cushion left on the couch, large enough for the man to squeeze himself onto. Just as you were about to ask Chris to take a picture, he pulled out his phone, showing you the picture he’d taken and how he had posted it on instagram. 

@chrisevans- They are definitely Momma’s boys 

You laughed at his creative caption and turned to kiss his bearded cheek in gratitude. It had only been posted for 40 seconds, yet thousands of fans had commented. Chris was never one to comment and like the fan comments, but today he was feeling extra appreciative of their support. He did his best to like all of the lovely comments as you did the same. 

[steppedoffaflight]

Summer’s a Knife - Chapter 15

Catch up on Chapter 14 here

You’re kicking yourself for taking these last months for granted, for thinking that that was what it meant to miss a busy Van. Pining and pouting over a Van that you basically saw once a week? That wasn’t so exhausted from back-to-back shows that he made time to call, or at least respond to your texts? Who spent enough time in one place that you could actually go visit him on tour?

or

You’re missing your best friend like crazy.

Word count: ~3.3k

A/N: I can’t believe there’s only two chapters left after this! Thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone who’s taken the time to read this, and endless thank you’s to everyone who has reached out with feedback ❤️

Chapter Fifteen September 2019

Fall in California doesn’t look the same as it does in Michigan, but you wish it did. Although you’re glad winters here only involve mild weeks in the fifties and sixties, you do miss the atmosphere of gray, rainy September days, leaves shriveling up and falling off of the trees, and changing out your wardrobe into something cozier. Sure, the pumpkin spice trend is still active, but pumpkin spice lattes don’t taste the same with eighty degree temperatures and the shining sun.

Maybe you’re homesick because you’re desperate for your surroundings to match your insides. 

Van wasn’t kidding about the band’s workload this month. You’re kicking yourself for taking these last months for granted, for thinking that that was what it meant to miss a busy Van. Pining and pouting over a Van that you basically saw once a week? That wasn’t so exhausted from back-to-back shows that he made time to call, or at least respond to your texts? Who spent enough time in one place that you could actually go visit him on tour?

You had been so naive. So, so, fucking naive. And September was absolute torture to prove it. And it would feel much, much better to slog through this month on rainy sidewalks crusted with damp leaves, a crisp breeze trying to sneak through the seams of your coat.

But instead the world just spins on, leaving you behind. September is a new beginning for many people, who gladly chatter about it everywhere they go. UCLA students are starting to return to the area, bouncing around in their backpacks with iced coffees, and at work your co-workers are returning from their eventful summers refreshed and ready to end the year with a bang. There are back-to-school sales on everything, from spin classes to puppies in a petstore window, and the happier everyone is about the new season the more alone you feel.

Because that’s a great way to sum up how you feel, really: alone. It was the fucking worst. You’d never been someone who had a problem being alone! You’d purposely decided to live alone; you had practically skipped for joy down the sidewalks when you’d broken up with your last boyfriend. You had a nice friend group with the other girls at work, and of course you had Mary, so what else could an independent woman like you need? Certainly not a boyfriend or a girlfriend to make you feel fulfilled. Things wouldn’t even be different if Van was your boyfriend, you try to convince yourself. He’d still be busy. You’d still be rooted in L.A.. You’d still be just as depressed as you are right now.

You don’t believe that one bit.

\\

Got that reservation, Van texts you one night after a rare phone call. You’d asked him to try and get Mary and Theo a table for their anniversary, and apparently he’d pulled through. You beam to yourself as he sends another text with the reservation information, and then decide to give Mary a call.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Is Mary’s greeting. “Has Van kidnapped you?”

You don’t have the heart to tell her it’s the opposite, actually. You’re so trapped in your lonely self-pity you don’t really have the energy or desire to socialize with others right now. In your heart right now, it’s Van or bust.

“Maybe,” You joke, although you feel like you don’t sound very convincing. “Speaking of Van, he might happen to have a reservation next week that he can’t make…” You grin as your voice trails off, “And maybe he accidentally made the reservation under your name?”

Mary audibly gasps down the line. “He got us a table?” She squeals, but you can hear she’s trying to hold back her excitement until she knows for sure.

“I might have called in a favor from him,” You laugh as you listen to Mary’s excitement at your confirmation.

“He is an absolute angel,” She gushes. “You need to marry him, like, now.”

You’re sure that this time your laugh definitely sounds hollow. You’ve never admitted your love for Van, even though Mary questions you about it regularly and never seems convinced with your denials. While you usually tell her everything, your feelings for Van have always felt like a giant bruise, something best not exposed. You don’t think you could stand the teasing, or Mary’s typical meddling. And right now, considering your heart is one oozing wound, you’re thankful for your own secret-keeping.

“I just wanted to let you know,” You start to wind down the conversation. Your phone has pinged with another text from Van, and you don’t want to waste this opportunity to catch up with him. “I’ll screenshot the reservation stuff and text you.”

“Tell Van I said thank you! We said thank you. Like, seriously. He’s amazing.”

You two say goodbye and you relay the message to Van over text, before responding to the message he’d just sent. Sam Fender’s album was out tomorrow, and there would be a huge bash at his Hollywood house the following weekend, which the band wouldn’t be in the States to attend. Van was clearly bummed about the whole thing, and you were too. You wonder if Sam and his friends remembered you from the party, or if you’ve faded from everyone’s memory. You wish there was a way for you to reach out to him and congratulate him. 

Get your cheque yet? Van asks when the conversation about Sam has run its course.

Right. The insurance check. Yup, you respond, frowning to yourself in dismay. A whole $5,000. Yippee. 

You couldn’t believe that’s all you’d received from the insurance debacle. You’d purchased the car for $12,000 from a dealer, worked your ass to pay it off over the years, and now the insurance company had awarded you less than half of the cost of the car to somehow give you the means to buy a new one. And it’d be almost impossible to find something in good shape for that price that was also an automatic, because you grew up in Michigan, where people were not obsessed with driving stick shifts.

Least you’ve got the rover. 

Right. The Range Rover. The one scrap of Van you could cling to during this awful time.

\\

The next time you have to pass that stupid petshop with their stupidly cute puppies in the window on your walk back to the office after lunch, you decide to send a pic to Van: Yes or no to me getting a puppy.

Which one?

Holy fuck, he responded in less than twelve hours. It’s your lucky day.

I’m thinking that little fuzzy gray one.

I’d be supremely jealous. He’s cute and I love dogs.

Van is a terrible influence. You’re ashamed to admit you stall in front of the window for longer than necessary, looking at the little gray puppy with the pointed ears bounce around in the playpen before forcing yourself to move along. A puppy would probably be good for you, honestly, but that’s not a decision you should make on impulse.

Miss you, says another text from Van. Then another: Might be in town on Tuesday? Fingers crossed the flights work out. 

Unfortunately, they do not.

\\

The flights do, however, work out for Thursday. That’s a fact you only discover after coming home from work and heading into your bedroom to change, only to trip over two rolling suitcases and realize there’s a Van-sized lump sleeping in your bed.

“What’re you doing?” Van mumbles, peeking his head out from under the blankets as you swear up a storm.

“What are you doing?” You shout, your toes throbbing. You’d accidentally kicked one of his rolling suitcases across the bedroom hardwood, and your toes were aching from the impact. On its way across the bedroom that suitcase had bumped the other, causing it to fall like a domino. “Why didn’t you tell me you were here?”

A slow grin spreads over Van’s face. “I wanted to surprise you!”

“By making my room an obstacle course?” You huff, lifting the fallen suitcase upright and rolling both of them out of the way into a corner. 

Van’s sleepy state inhibits him from arguing, and he tucks his head back under the comforter.

“God, you scared the shit out of me,” You continue, your adrenaline still pumping from the fright and the pain. “I regret making you a key. I want it back.”

“Shut up,” Comes Van’s muffled voice.

“You shut up,” You bite back, but as the throbbing in your toes die down your irritation is replaced with the realization that this is reality, that Van is actually in your fucking bed at this moment. “I missed you,” You announce suddenly, your voice a lot softer.

Van peeks his head out again. His hair is a ruffled, oily mess as he beams at you. “I missed you more.”

“Bet you didn’t. Bet you forgot about me while you were doing cool band stuff.”

“Oh, did I? Wonder who I was texting Sam about, then.”

At this your jaw drops. “You did what?”

“I told him I was sorry I was leaving town tomorrow, and you said congratulations. And he asked how you were. Bond and him wanna do a celebratory pub night down in Newcastle.”

“No fair!” You pout, stomping your foot like a child. “You’re gonna celebrate without me?”

“Get your passport!” Van cries, throwing one of his arms up in exasperation before flopping back down on the bed. “Come with us!”

Getting your passport is a pain you’re reluctant to go through. You sigh. Maybe you’d try during the holidays back in Michigan, where the lines at the post office weren’t practically out the door everyday. Even if things with Van are over by then, Mary’s been trying to talk you into an overseas vacation for a while. 

“You’re leaving tomorrow?” You decide to narrow in on that fact, pushing passport thoughts aside.

“Tomorrow night,” Van confirms. “Drop me off after work?”

“Of course.” If you only had him for these twenty-four hours, you were gonna milk every second you had.

\\

Van is completely wiped from touring, and spends his entire time at your place in the same sweats. He gets out of bed the next morning to shower and have a cup of coffee with you, but other than that he’s glued to the mattress, getting some much-needed rest. 

But even when he’s tired, Van is fun to be around. When you’re exhausted from work it means that your job has sapped every last bit of joy from you, leaving you without any desire to be creative, go out with friends, or try to be in a good mood. With Van, it’s like he would keep going if his body allowed him. He talks about tour fondly, still expresses excitement about starting on the new album, and still manages to pluck at your guitar from his nesting spot in bed. He’s the same Van; the only difference is the constant yawning and the way the lines around his eyes are more defined. Oh, and the lack of energy for any fooling around.

That last part doesn’t even cross your mind until you’re on your way home from the airport. You were so content just to have him around that you totally forgot how much you’d been using your vibrator lately. 

But even with how content you were for that blissful twenty-four hours, as soon as you’ve stepped in the door to your empty house the aching in your heart returns. In your time apart all the little details about Van had gone fuzzy in your mind; his scent on your pillow, how it takes a cup of coffee in the morning for his voice to stop cracking. But remembering them makes everything sting with a vengeance, and you’re left feeling shittier than you have all month. 

There’s been a nagging feeling creeping around the edges of your brain like a fog, and as much as you’ve been trying to deny it, it’s hard tonight. It’s just that everything with Van has started to hurt, and you’re not sure it’s ever going to go away. His schedule over the summer was flexible, but even after this intense bout of touring he’d be busy with recording. And then the band would be vigorously promoting and touring that album, and so on, forever, because Van would never stop making music, you were sure of that. 

The tears well up in your eyes even thinking about not having him around. Despite your crushing adoration for him, he really is your best friend, and the idea of losing his friendship makes your heart clench in agony, the tears spilling over. But it’s not really a fair friendship when only one of you is crying about it, is it? Van doesn’t have to hurt like this, because his heart isn’t invested in you like yours is in him. 

You allow yourself an indulgent self-pity cry as you make your bed, rumpled from Van’s napping, and climb in. You figure if you’re going to have a pity party for yourself you might as well do it right, and switch your pillow out for his so you can smell the smoke he leaves everywhere he goes. You know that as happy as you are when he’s around, there’s no way you can keep crying over someone when leaving is as much of their job as sending emails is to yours. 

\\

That’s why when Van pops in for another impromptu visit the following Tuesday, you’re not as happy to see him as you usually would be. It’s the same way that the idea of next morning’s hangover can ruin a night out, except with Van there’s no magical way to handicap your brain from thinking about the future.

The sex comes close, though. As soon as you two get to your place after picking him up he tosses his backpack aside before cornering you against the front door. 

“I fucking missed you,” He practically growls in your ear, and holy fuck it’s been so long. You two rush for the bedroom, peeling off clothes as you go. Van is too impatient to worry about unbuttoning his shirt and simply peels it over his head, while you unclasp your own bra to avoid the delay. Before you know it you’re on your back, the blankets falling away from Van’s shoulders as he thrusts into you with all he’s got, your headboard banging against the wall so loudly you almost worry about damaging it. When you come it’s intensely satisfying, and you pull Van’s hair ridiculously hard to prove it. In retaliation he bites down on your shoulder as he comes, the same as he did the first time you ever slept with him. 

The whole world feels right for that magical half hour, and then as you both lay on your backs trying to process what’s happened it all starts to shift again.

“When are you leaving, again?” You ask the ceiling, your voice stiff.

“Thursday morning,” He croaks. “Gotta get to Salt Lake City.” 

You start to roll yourself up, heading for the bathroom. “Right.”

You feel Van’s body tense under the sheets next to you. “You alright?”

“Yup,” You tell him, emerging from the bed. You’re not convincing in the slightest, and Van can clearly tell. You don’t give him time to question you before leaving the bedroom.

“What’d I do?” You startle when you hear Van’s footsteps following behind you to the bathroom. 

“Nothing.” You almost laugh at how ridiculous you sound.

Van hasn’t even bothered to throw boxers on, leaning in the bathroom doorway with his softening dick on display. He sighs. “Wanna step out for a smoke?”

You’re actually craving the fuck out of a cigarette, but you’d rather just go to bed and have this night be over with. Maybe tomorrow you’d be more able to enjoy Van’s presence, rather than pouting over how it’s rapidly coming to an end as soon as it began. “I’m fine,” You tell him. Your voice sounds less sharp and more resigned. It wasn’t his fault, after all.

Van shakes his head. He uses the toilet when you’re done, tosses on the sweatpants he had rolled in his backpack, and heads out onto the porch alone.

In his absence you scold yourself for acting like this. What the fuck were you doing? Ruining the two nights you had him, because of something that wasn’t anybody’s fault? You remake the bed, mentally giving yourself a stern talking to.

“You wanna talk about what’s wrong now?” Van’s voice makes you jump out of your skin.

“Nothing’s wrong,” You insist again, but your voice betrays you. 

“Something is,” Van argues. “I’ve been watching you fluff that pillow for ages.”

At his words you realize your hands are still gripping the corner of your pillowcase, and you unclench your fists. 

Van steps into the room, and to your mortification you feel your eyes heat up with warm tears. 

“It’s been a long day,” You lie. It’s been a long fucking summer. “And I’m PMSing.”

Van frowns in sympathy, starting to climb back into bed. “Need a cuddle?”

A cuddle sounds like the equivalent of doing an entire round of shots by yourself when you’re already dreading the hangover. 

“Yeah,” You sniff. “I do.”

\\

On Thursday morning Van gets you up even earlier than your alarm clock, one of his hands nudging your thighs apart. You expect him to get on top of you once you’re more fully awake, yawning and wiggling around to get more comfortable, but instead you feel his calloused fingertip press against your entrance.

“Oh,” You sigh in surprise as he slips into you, searching out your good spots by touch alone. When he slips a second finger in, angling himself right, you clench down on instinct. “Yeah,” You breathe, blinking up at him sleepily. He’s watching your face intently, and if you were even slightly more awake you’d be horrifically self conscious. “You got it right.”

You can’t remember the last time you were fingered as the entree of the sex, rather than the appetizer. It’s appallingly intimate to have Van’s face so close to yours, breathing in any noises you make and watching every slight expression change in the darkness of your room. You’re also appalled at how you’ve been completely robbed of his talents; he can sense exactly where you’re throbbing for him, your clit twitching against the pad of his thumb when he applies pressure right where your body has been screaming for it. It barely takes any time with his thumb working in tiny circles and his fingers pressing into you hard before you’re gasping for air, drowning under the waves of your orgasm that feels like it’s radiating from both areas, whimpering Van’s name helplessly. 

As soon as you’re flinching from his touch he pulls his hand away, his fingers slipping into his mouth so he can clean them off. 

“Holy shit.” Your lungs are still desperate for air, but you haul him in for a sloppy kiss, paying no attention to the taste of yourself on his tongue. “I’m gonna miss you.”

Van lets out a deep, throaty laugh at that, but you’re already pushing him backwards so that he’s laying flat. You’re way too sensitive for sex, but you jerk him off and let him come on the soft skin on the inside of your thighs, as a treat. 

After you drop him off at the airport, both of you looking slightly disheveled due to having to rush to get ready, you sigh to yourself in the empty car. You hated how weak you were when it came to him. One minute you’re convincing yourself you need to stop hanging around him, and the next you’re telling yourself there is absolutely no way you can give up the best sex you’ve ever had.

It was quite the conundrum.

\\

[doctorthasmin]

When the Doctor awoke, the creamy scent of shea butter filled her senses, without opening her eyes she knew Yaz was close.

“How long have I been asleep?” The Doctor croaks, stretching her sore stiff muscles under the duvet. Yaz, who was sitting up in bed reading, checked her bedside clock.

“16 hours in total, I think that’s the longest sleep you’ve ever had with us, how are you feeling?” Yaz asks, sweeping some of her hair from her face feeling her brow, still warm but not as feverish as before.

“Wow, that was some nap then. I feel sore, like I’ve been out ploughing fields by hand all night, throat feels better though.” The Doctor concedes, grateful that she can now speak without feeling fire climbing up her chest. The Doctor leans into Yaz’s gentle caresses, her fingers sliding through her sweaty chaotic hair.

“How about I make you up a nice hot bath, with essential oils and bubbles, would you like that?” Yaz asks, rubbing her thumb gently into the Doctors temple, smiling at her slack jaw as she enjoyed the attention.

“Sounds lovely Yaz, if it’s not too much trouble.” The Doctor groans, rolling her wrist as it gives an almighty crack, the Doctor’s eyes widen comically as she checks her wrist sighing with relief.

“Of course not, stay snug I’ll go run the bath.” Yaz whispers, kissing her forehead before sliding out from underneath the covers, tucking the Doctor back in with a giggle.

The Doctor was unusually precious about her tub, for someone who championed newness she wasn’t overly fond of the modernisation of bathing that they’d seen on their travels, ‘give me a tub any day’ had been her exact words. So Yaz slung the thermometer over the claw foot bath and began turning the hot tap, time lords seemed to run hotter than humans so she wanted to make sure to deliver on the hot bath she’d promised. The oils were easier, found rattling around a wooden box, she doused some lavender into the water along with some peppermint before looking for some bubble solution. Yaz wasn’t surprised at the veritable selection of goods in the cupboard, the Doctor loved a little shop wherever they went, collecting various things from her travels. After finding what she surmised to be chamomile and jojoba bubble cream Yaz poured it in slowly under the tap watching as the bubbles began to bloom across the steaming hot bath.

“This looks lovely Yaz thank you.” The Doctor smiles standing at the entrance to the bathroom her blanket still around her small frame.

“Is 60 Celsius okay for your bath?” Yaz asks checking the thermometer as she stands up.

“Yeah that’s perfect we run at about 45-50 Celsius anyway.” The Doctor replies, accepting Yaz’s kiss to the cheek as leaves the room to find some warm towels.

The Doctor makes no muss about getting into the tub, groaning in delight as the hot water sinks into her muscles easing the aches and pains, it’s a deep bath and the bubbles cover the surface entirely, she instantly gives herself a bubble moustache. Yaz knocks at the door, entering as the Doctor calls for her to come in, the towels are scorching hot and placed back onto a heater to keep warm.

“Do you want a cup of tea or anything?” Yaz asks, she herself always enjoyed a cuppa in the bath. The Doctor shakes her head smiling blissfully, finally relaxed.

“Okay, I’ll leave you to enjoy then, just holler if you need anything I’ll be next door.” Yaz promises as the Doctor nods thanking her.

Yaz takes the opportunity to clean up the various tissues, cough drop wrappers from the floor, changing the bed sheets and asking the Tardis for some help with ventilation as there were no natural windows in the Tardis. The fresh bed made, and the electric blanket turned on, Yaz felt pleased with herself, it was such a rare opportunity to take care of someone so fiercely independent, it felt good.

The Doctor relaxed in the tub, playing with the bubbles and submerging herself every now and again, impressed with the instant mohawk the water gave her. The Tardis seemed to produce some floaty toys for her, a tardis, a ship and a little girl reminiscent of her faded memory of her origins. She didn’t know whether she should feel sad or angry, she just imagined if that little girl all those many years ago dreamed of sailing a ship of flying a timeship. So she played, in the bath, for all those moments that little girl just wanted to be a child and not an experiment.

Yaz settles herself with a cup of tea, flicking through some of her latest photos of the fam enjoying various adventures across the universe. Ryan’s infectious grin found in every pic of them together, making her smile reflexively.

“Yaz! Can you give me a hand please?” The Doctor calls through. Yaz puts her tea and phone down wandering into the bathroom to see the Doctor safely ensconced under the bubbles all red from the heat.

“My arms are a bit sore can you wash my hair?” The Doctor asks, wincing as she tries to lift them up to show Yaz the difficulty.

“Of course I can, let me just grab a stool.” Yaz says grabbing some shampoo and nicking the nearest stool in the bedroom. The Doctor, ever the fidgeter in chief, continues to push her floating Tardis toy around the bath as Yaz sits her self behind the tub pouring some shampoo into her palms lathering it up.

“Okay here we go.” Yaz says quietly, gently applying the lather to the Doctor’s hair taking care to scrape her nails behind her ears gathering up the soft short hairs.

In a matter of seconds the Doctor goes a bit limp in her hands, enjoying the massaging technique of Yaz’s shampooing skills. Yaz throws herself into the task, gently rubbing circles with her fingers across the Doctor’s hairline, spurred on by the Doctor’s soft mewling.

“Just need to rinse, why don’t you submerge yourself.” Yaz suggests, rinsing her fingers in the sink tap as the Doctor slides under water shaking her head like a dog in the water, before surfacing.

“Right just a quick hair mask and then you’re ready to get dressed and back into bed?” Yaz suggests watching as the Doctor nods, tiredness seeping back into her face.

Yaz takes a small scoop of the shea butter and aragan oil cream in her palm, before applying smooth lines into the Doctor’s hair, gathering the longer strands on top sliding her fingers through the lengths, tugging gently. The Doctor’s eyes were closed again a small smile on her face as she let Yaz work.

“Okay, you rinse that, I’m just going to get your pj’s, want the green ones with the planets on them?” Yaz asks, gathering the navy blues off the floor and putting them into the hamper.

“Yes please Yaz, thank you.” The Doctor calls, before submerging herself one last time, her hair all silky and shiny again.

5 minutes later, with damp hair and her new pyjamas on the Doctor climbs back into her fresh bed with a sleepy smile. She snuggles up into Yaz’s arms yawning dramatically as she allows her tiredness to take over and pull her under.

“Sweet dreams Doctor.” Yaz whispers kissing her cool forehead with a smile.

Part 3 tomorrow, how will Ryan contribute to the Doctor’s recovery?

[iammarylastar]

9. FAREWELL

"So, you're leaving without saying goodbye?"

She said, her voice like a ghost.

Shit.

Cal leaned his hand on the door frame, his forehead followed and he closed his eyes. He could feel Jess trembling behind his back, he could foresee her face soaked in tears, her sobs stuck in her chest.

Shit.

Leaving her was the hardest thing he had ever done, he doubted he could gather the strength to walk out the door, but now she was awake, crying, he knew it would be impossible.

Yet, he had to.

"Chris?" She begged.

He had planned everything, every little detail, like he already had, to break Oyster out.

He got all his stuff ready: a car fueled up, the maps with all the secondary roads highlighted, 4 different options to cross the Canadian border. His backpack, enough military rations to survive for 2 weeks, in case he'd have to ditch the car and cover the distance by foot. A compass. An extra pair of trekking shoes, just in case. Water. Lighter. Headlamp. Emergency kit. US dollars. Canadian dollars.

No phone. 

No pics, not even one of Jessica. He wouldn't risk to get caught and have her involved. Beside it would be too painful to look at her beautiful face. Dealing with her memory would be hard enough.

But he had no choice. More than 3 years he hadn't see his brother. 3 fucking long years he hadn't heard his voice. Teddy, his little brother, the reason he had kept living after their mom died, the one he had fought for. And kept fighting for.

He'd all planned in his head, playing every scenario again and again at night, all those sleepless nights, Jess cuddled against his chest. Looking blankly at the ceiling, on the hunt for what could happen, what could turn wrong, and come what may: keep walking.

Until he reaches Lac-Sainte-Marie, Quebec, 260 miles from here. Until he meets his brother again.

"Chris!" She yelped, like she was drowning.

For a millisecond, he thought he could just give up: forget his little ass of a brother, forget his oath to his mother, forget his responsibilities, drop on his knees and beg Jess to marry him, give her 3 kids, get a pet and live happily ever after. Why not? He deserved a little of happiness, didn't he?

"What is happening?" she whispered, her voice torn by sobs, like stabs in his back.

What the fuck was happening, good question. He was happening. That fucking deceiving Cal was freaking out and ruining everything again. Like it was meant to be.

Like he was meant to screw up every chance of happiness.

"I have to see him. Jess, he got back in touch with me. Those postcards. There must be a reason." He said under his breath, not daring to glance at her.

"Chris, you're still in probation! A single step out of the State and you're in parole violation! You're going to get caught and thrown into jail again!" She knew this argument wouldn't work with him, but she was a lawyer, well almost, she had to plead for her case.

"I know..." Chris whispered. The next words would be excruciating to pronounce.

"That's why I won't come back..."

"Noooo!" She totally broke down.

As he listened to her heart shattering into pieces, taking his own heart down, he couldn't help thinking about time.

It took her days to tame his fears, weeks to heal him for his trauma, months to forge deep, trustful ties between their hearts.

Ties they both thought were unbreakable.

And as it took a heartbeat to fall in love with her, he'd been quick to break her heart.

Now he was running out of time. With her. For Oyster. Fuck.

"At least wait for your probation period to be over! You'll be a free man and you could go wherever you want!" She begged.

Like he didn't know. Like he hadn't spent the last days counting how many days it would take to be reunited. Like he hadn't thought of it from top to bottom. Like he hadn't been obsessed and torn about that fucking choice he had to make.

"Three more years! Jess, I can't leave him alone for 3 more fucking years! He needs me!" He let his anger flow out of his chest.

"What about me????" She thundered, gripping her nightie where her heart ached, then pointing a furious index finger out.

"He's not a kid anymore! He made his choice! You don't owe him anything anymore! When are you going to start thinking about yourself? About us?"

Touché.

Cal wavered at her words. The more she spoke, the more his determination weakened. He had no choice but cling to his same old song.

"I'm his legal guardian, I promised mom I'd take care of him. I can't break my oath. Not again..."

It would have been easier if Chris was the selfish type. But he didn't choose Marine corps and law enforcement by mistake. He was a man of principle, loyal, honest, trustful. A man with Semper Fidelis inked in his flesh forever.

"Chris!!" Jess was burning with rage and desperation. She was fed up with his sempiternal lame excuses.

She would have slapped his face full force if she could have moved, again and again until he got it, but violence never fixed anything, she was dead certain of this.

Chris’ childhood to adulthood, his former job in the Marine corps, his time in jail, his whole damn life had been nothing but violence, he deserved better from her.

She breathed in and out slowly to calm her nerves down and regain control of her thoughts.

Give him what he needs, that's the only way...

"You're strong Chris. You're a good man! Why can't you see it?"

Cal shook his head, tears threatening again behind his lids.

"I failed. I failed to keep my mom alive. I failed to protect my brother. To serve my country... To make you happy. I don't deserve you..."

"When are you going to stop punishing yourself for things, you're not responsible for? Jesus, your mom died, who's to blame? Not you! You struggled to provide for your brother though you were barely an adult, Chris, you did your best! Oyster made some bad choices, his choices, he fucked up but it was not your fault!"

Gone his sweetheart of a girlfriend, he was facing a new, fierce, unstoppable soldier ready for anything for her love.

Anything. Maybe, even ready to throw everything away for him.

Cal slowly extended his hand to a trembling Jess. This gesture was a dangerous step back, he had promised himself not to touch her, not to smell her nor to get too close. No way he could leave this place without her if their hands were linked.

Jess nearly jumped forward to take it, intertwined her fingers so tightly with his, their knuckles turned white. She closed her other hand over their clasped ones, then pulled them against her cheek, nuzzling against the slightest piece of his skin she could.

The contact of her skin against his made him jolt. His plea slipped through his lips before his brain realized their impact.

"Come with me. I hate to put that on you but... Jess, come with me. I don't want to lose you..."

His words were like slaps in her face. Her jaw dropped down and the look she threw at him slapped him back.

Shit.

She thought she had won. She thought he had heard her words. She thought he would stay. Why would he have offered his hand otherwise?

"Wh..? But... Cal, what are you doing?"

"Come with me Jessica. Let's start a new life in Canada. I love you. I love you!"

His turn to wrap his hand around hers and pull her closer, so his gaze pierced hers, his taut body hovering over her. This could fix everything.

Say yes! Say yes! Say yes!!

Jessica froze in shock, her pupils widened. She would have left all she had behind to follow him. The solution was easy: just go with him!

Just go with him, and become an outlaw. Say goodbye to your family, your career, your dreams, your life. On the run forever with the man she loved. With no future but hiding and lying.

"And you saved your first 'I love you' for the day you leave me..." Jess whispered under her breath, defeated. He killed her hope the second before, and kept doing an excellent job to trample on her heart.

Her whole body slumped down; Cal had to tighten his grip on her hands to get her upright.

Her pale complexion and her trembling voice made her look like a ghost.

"No. I can't. You can't... do that. You can't drag me into a runaway and make me a fugitive. I... I'm... My family is here, my career is here, my life is here... with you!

If you really love me, STAY!"

Chris wobbled, his knees weak under him. She was right, he knew it. He was wrong, doing all wrong, as he always had done. Jessica saw her chance in his hesitation, and played her last card. Faithfulness, Chris' obsession.

"That's not what you promised me. Chris, you promised me..." she burst into tears again, clinging onto him like he was a lifeline. Their love was like the Titanic, they thought it beautiful and in submersible, but it was irremediably sinking in the middle of nowhere and will end up broken shipwreck.

Hold on Rose, you have a chance.

Sorry Jack, you're screwed.

Shit.

He promised her, that day he talked his heart out, in the wee hours of a beautiful day, lying in bed, slowly brushing her delicate face with his fingertips. That day he told her about his plans for the future, their future. Openly daydreaming of his will to marry her, build her a house, have kids with her, three he said, if she agreed. Plus, a dog. One day, he promised, when she would graduate and he would have a better job.

He solemnly promised her to make her happy, happy ever after.

"You deserve to be happy, Chris. We've been so happy together. For fuck sake, why couldn't we just be happy?"

Because happiness is not meant for me.

"Jess, I miss him so much... I have no choice."

"There's always a choice... Let me help!" She begged a last time, squeezing his hands even tightly.

Chris closed his eyes, his sigh shaky through his tight throat. Just do it. Say it.

Now.

"No. Not this time... Let me go, Jess, please..." Chris grudgingly untied their fingers but Jess kept gripping at him, his wrists, his arms, his hoodie. He patiently unhooked each of her attempt, gently but firmly holding her wrists together.

It was so hard, Jesus, to see her face, desperate and drowned in tears, to hear a plea, to hurt her so deeply. But it had to be done. Like ripping off a band-aid. Just do it.

"No, no, no, no, Chris, please, nooo!" She begged, she would have given anything, everything to have him think, find another way, change his fucking mind. To have him stay. Choose her.

All her expectations vanished when Cal took her hands in his large palms, bent to kiss them but just leant his forehead on them, shaken by both their sobs and cries. He knew he couldn't leave if his lips touched her skin again. She knew it too.

Slowly, too slowly, he extended his arms until her fists laid on her chest, her fingers writhing in pain, and stepped back. Unable to look a last time in her eyes, Cal turned his heels and grabbed the doorknob.

"What if I'm pregnant?"

He froze, like punched in his guts.

"What?" His world collapsed. He had all the scenarios figured out, even the worst, but not this one.

He had made love to her earlier that night, knowing it'd be the last time. He made it last long, savoring each second with her, kissing each piece of her body, learning each of her curves by heart with his fingertips. He made it sensual, passionate, beautiful. He had given her all, all of him.

He had laid on his back for hours, his love cuddled on his side, her arms around his chest, like to keep him from running away. Like she felt it.

He had stayed like this forever, staring at the ceiling, listening to her deep breathing, feeling her, smelling her, until he was drunk from her.

"I said, what if I'm pregnant." She stated again, interrupting his thoughts.

"Are you?" He blankly asked.

She might be. From tonight.

She could be. They've been careless for a couple of weeks, their desire so strong they skipped to put a condom on. They both silently agreed, since they had a talk about it: they wanted to spend their lives together and grow a family, one day or another...

Jess had tried the pill, but it hadn't fit her. She tried 3 different brands but every time something went wrong. Cal hated seeing her with cramps or moody and IUD was a big no no due to her young age, so he decided to take the responsibility of the birth control, and simply pulled out at the right time.

Which was, according to Jess, like a firework without the final. Several times, half of the time in fact, she trapped Cal between her legs so he came inside of her. She found it so sexy and powerful.

Sexy but likely give rise to a baby.

Their baby. His.

"You won't stay for me. Would you stay for your child?"

Bitch. She knew how push his button, where it hurt the most. Given what he was doing to her, it was fair.

His guts twisted painfully and nausea invaded his throat at the thought. His deepest nightmare resurfaced: a kid with no father to take care of them, ruffle their hair, tickle them until they're breathless from laughing, play football with them, hug them tight when they're scared or sad. A kid with no dad to love them. A kid like he'd been, grown up before his childhood even had started.

A missing father. That was what he would become if he left now. The worst of the worst. A man he promised himself to never be. Fucking never hurt someone like he'd been hurt.

He unsuccessfully was trying to clear his mind from sadness and anger to redo his math and remember when was her last period. Calculate the odds of a pregnancy. Rate his chance to stay.

Zero.

He sucked. He wasn’t worth anything.

Maybe living was the best he could do to save this child from himself. He was no better father than his own, unable to make a good decision.

Chris dropped his head, his hands tightened in fists, his eyes closed in a frown. He stopped breathing for a long time, until he made his decision.

"I'm sorry." He muttered, grabbing the doorknob.

That was it. She couldn't go, he couldn't stay. I guess that's just the way the story goes.

Such a waste.

Chris pushed the door open, wiped his tears with his sleeve and walked out, without a last glance at her.