#but i realized a few days ago that i can jus . loop them in the button holes of the plaids im always wearing

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

"average cis person has familiarity with 3 atypical pronouns" factoid is actually statistical error. average cis person has basic familiarity with they/them. Pronouns Oizys, who has tumblr & discord and interacts with 10,000 different pronouns every day, is an outlier and should not have been counted ( ˘ ³˘)♥ ( ˘ ³˘)♥ ( ˘ ³˘)♥ (ik ur not cis but alskdfjs;lkdfja it can be pronouns meri if u want idk)

i am . poisoning data sets >:]

but ty!! i thought the bigender-binatural connection was cool too <33

and actually!! the workshop went over better than i thought it might!! only one person actually mentioned the pronouns thing and everyone seemed to understand when i explained character being bigender + seemed to think my solution of only changing pronouns between sentences (rather than at every switch point) would work better. i also had one person say they got the hang of the pronoun thing partway through so they thought it was good, and my prof made a point in her feedback letter to say she thought it worked well and wasnt confusing at all :]

honestly it kinda looked like the reason so many people said the pronoun thing wasnt bc they really had issue with it, it was bc they needed Smth to say for 'areas of improvement' and most genuinely didntve anything to add!! which in a roundabout way is really cool!! bc it means they all loved my work a lot and thought i did very good INCLUDING on the dialogue which is what i was most worried about

[muffindaddystyles]

𝑌𝑂𝑈𝑁𝐺 & 𝐵𝐸𝐴𝑈𝑇𝐼𝐹𝑈L 

A oneshot of how you two met in the beautiful city of Italy, how Harry finds you an Angel descended from heaven above that took his hand and became his light. Dad!harry full of fluff..oh yeah dad!harry nation lets rise. .Part two of tooth rotting dad harry of it is here too. young and beautiful (II)

It's Saturday night. Harry and you intentionally have no plans but to loaf around in your guys cosy homely space. The candles flames with rośe tranquilness, the intro to movie watched many times together rolling in. Both of you are snuggled onto large body sucking sea-green velvet couch infront of telly.

His daddy long legs nestled atop your hip hooking around your ankle protecting you from falling if possible (moreso the fact he's extremely protective of you in your pregnancy.) His one elbow snaked around your collarbones which are now hiding underneath soft swelling, his sweater pawed arm sheltering around your huge eight months baby bump slender tender fingers tucked underneath your side.

You relaxes into him, back pressed to his tanned chest and with his chin resting atop your hair whenever he rasped out something it bobbed your whole head.

"Yeh' kay, baby? comfy?" He asks you for the hundredth time now caressing and stroking your chin, then earlobes, collarbones to your belly and the list goes on. It's one of his habits that he doesn't realizes himself more as ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑢𝑎𝑔𝑒. Harry's love language's physical contact, lots and lots of them. He finds calm in touching you here and there, raking his palms without them knowing their destination. He's cuddly and clingiest when drunk. Although, he has stopped drinking since you both are expecting but the clingy part of him jumped out during this period his only excuses are "wanna stay close to me' three babies." Or "i feel empty when you're even a bit away from me." 

"'M lover, stop worrying." You bring his jaw down with the tip of your pointer finger to kiss his lips gently with a tilt of your chin. He mumbles an anxious "cant." in your mouth running his thumb under the curve of your womb with amiable affection.

You hiss into his mouth when one of your bubba kicks you with ever most force and he pushes away with amused eyes, when he felt the kick against his palm. It's not like it's his first but everything related to his unborn babies muse him to utter excitement and tears of joy.

He shifts a tad resting his a little scruffy cheek against your silken naked bump, you're wearing one of his crotched zinc orange crop top and it bunched up your belly in very much likeness of Harry, he thinks you look so endearingly sexy he could make you use him as many times you want. His ear tucked under the crescent of your chest, "feels like jus' a barrier of skin between us." He bubbles his accent and you smile down at him infectiously. Meanouvering your fingers into his chestnut curls and massaging his scalp that made his eyelids futter into bliss.

There was another visible kick and Harry smoothed down the skin eyes shinning up at you, "a footy champ this one." You sucked your bottom lip trying not break into fits of laughter because from the weight your pelvis muscles has become weak and you end up leaving wet tiny splotches most of the time. First time you had it was two months ago you were fucking embarrassing and couldn't stop crying right after an hour of genuine laugh ofcourse caused by Harry when you guys shopped for babies and he wore that one onesie on his head being all goofy and child of two while expecting two himself.

"How're meh' baby girls. meh' bunnies." He smauched loud wet kisses all over your belly making slobbery snuggly voices to annoy you. You tug at his roots whining loudly because you know the undeniable loving scene of Harry talking to his two daughters will bring you to tears all because of stubborn hormones. Yes, two!

While you weren't even expecting a pregnancy, God said wait for my bumper surprise.

Everyone told your bump looks healthier than normal pregnancies but you ignored it until the day of gender check-up. Harry was ecastatic, fist pumping the air, bouncing with your hands intervined tears bloodshot in his eyelines. So were you...but you had a huge breakdown on the wooden floor of your home's threshold. You were blabbering thousand questions to him, body shaking and fighting to breath.

"I...I can't do this, Harry...too much 's too much." You cried to him that day. But he cradled your face into his calloused palms his temple kissed yours, "ye' can, my sweet girl. we can. wish I could bear one of our baby bunny, it's sad that I cant help ye'. But, it's my promise to be there for you forever and always." He leaned down to kiss you with so much love, more love he was keeping to himself ever since and more more love he can't put into words.

He comes back from your belly to leave a feathery kiss on your lips that makes you yearn for him more and settles back to his previous position, his face shoved into the crook of your neck and he presses kisses to the corner of your lips while your eyes remains glued to telly.

As Sally and Harry bickered in the car you chuckled softly fingers tracing his nose and the mole sheltered under it, "remember how we met?" His breath fanned tickling your cheek heartily when he shook his head with a giddy giggle.

"How could I not? Yeh' were a honey pot and a weepy mess after tha'." He scrunches his nose at you adorably reminiscing the night and series of nights after that.

"It was your fault mister." You twitch your lips turning to his side with his help and his hand sprawled at your back instinctively. "Ye' souvenired t' give a lonely guy like me some company, first." He smiles when you huffed. His beam getting joyously wider when your belly pressed tightly against his's and he kisses your forehead multiple times.

"Who thought that guy escapin' from Gucci's biggest event could be a dad of two girls." You quip playing with his neckline and his chest rumbled with a titter that sent you to cloud nine.

"Not me at all. But, if I could meet him back in time I'll tell him how lucky he's gonna be, how happy he'll be, that he doesn't needs to be a grumpy daddy when he could be a real happy one." His eyes are glassy and you cupped his cheeks placing your lips atop his into a feverish kiss of gentleness.

~𝐹𝑎𝑙𝑠ℎ𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑡𝑜 2015~

Gucci's spring festive on full blossom in the most popular old city of Italy, Milan. It's luxurious in all it's glory. A-list celebrities and world claimed most beautiful models. The hall clattered and shushed with talks, rumours, gossips and greets. Then it's fashion and tailored-fitted clothes, formal gowns. Fake smiles. Cold hearts.

On the long dinning table piled with food that sometimes's too difficult to pronounce Harry sat along with Kendall Jenner. His ex-girlfriend and a friend for now. She talks excitedly with the person infront of her snarling rude remarks here and there. Her hand came squeezing his thigh under the table that startled him from his imaginary world. A world where he's at peace, the luxuries doesn't exist and he's nothing but a normal person.

"Huh, love?" He kinks his brows together fiddling with the napkin in his lap and she gave him a furious pout for not giving her full attention, "I was pointing out how fast-fashion brands are shit." She rolls her eyes. Harry can't believe her bratty arse. He shrugged his thigh with a tad more harshness to get rid of her touch.

"Dunno. No' everyone could afford luxury brands." At this the model infront of them cackled more in her mock and sniffed to be polite in the fake hush of the room. Harry's eyes turned glassy and the jade in the murky to the visible irritation at their behaviour. His expressions dark and unreadable under the very less light.

Quiffing his long hickorey curls back he nibbed at his pointer finger's knuckle only to bend it under his chin afterwards, "'m serious." Kendall sighs loudly at this clearly annoyed by the way he's acting and the model infront of him gave him a 'whatever makes you sleep at night.' look and a shrug of her shoulders in arrogance while eating her steak.

Enough. Harry thinks with a grumble struck in his chest. He rakes the chair back that drew some attention but it drifted to some person sharing their experience and all that shit talk again on the loop.

Harry's guard followed him behind pushing the paparazzi away. Flashes in his eyes. Made up assumptions to his ears and shoved up opinions to his chest. He's sick. From all of this. He wants to shout to no-one in particular but himself, he wants an escape. He wants it with his every bleeding cell.

Then he takes a curt turn with a whiplash of his torso to dark alley beside the building from which he just exited and when he reached the end it was blocked by a brick wall so he jumped with ease to other side, his expensive boots scruffing against the gravel. He gave no care to the guard behind him.

He was in a local less populated street. Wider with the bumpy stones and there were people indeed but nobody paid him heed.

He sat on the concrete bench. Flinging his one leg over another hand gripping near his crotch and with a relieved huge exhale of breath he took his phone out going through it. After, so long he feels like he's a free dove who could breath free escaping from it's cage.

He's broken. Empty and in the rough path of his life. He doesn't know how to cope with it. It makes him fuckin' insane.

There's an ice-cream cart few steps away from where he's sitting alone onto bench. His head snaps at the beautiful giggle bouncing through the tangerine sky. He squints his eyes to get a better look of the group of friends crowding near the cart and licking onto their ice-creams.

Your white cotton dress furled with a wave of zephyr and the loose errand of your hair slipping from your low bun cascading around your face while you gave a belly ache laugh to one of your tall friend bopping his nose at his silliness.

Harry stares at the interaction of young people. They're just like him but looks more happy and youthful then why couldn't he?

His eyes are set on a certain figure and that's you still hidden from him as your friend Mona blocked the sight of your perfect view to Harry nudging your ribs.

"Is that Harry Styles." Jo mutters when his eyes fell over him and then he bashfully hisses, "don't look back! Don't look back. You guys are being too specific." Considering yourself stupid you spinned to have an ethereal sight of Harry sitting all by himself on the cold bench, his carved features glowing with the illumination of his phone screen still unlocked while he got distracted by you people.

"Doesn't feels like he's enjoying himself." Mona quipped taking a large swipe of her cold delight. None of them too interested in his wear abouts.

Call it clićhe but you don't have any thought in your mind before you're asking for an ice-cream cone from the ice-cream man heading towards him with your hands occupied with two.

Harry's breath hitching in his palpalating heart at the complete sight of you, for sore eyes for sure. His nerves jittery and knee bouncing in restlessness as you approaches him with a sweet grin. He takes in your complete look. White flowy dress and nude sandals, loop earrings and the bright red lipstick resembling the blood gush of his heart. 'Less is more' making you appear so beautiful.

Harry's so lost in his own brain wrecking that he forgot where you went but you rounds him from behind flinging your left leg on the other side of bench to sit on it with your legs on either side of it, he again startles getting off-guard hastily turning to face you when you tapped his shoulder.

Licking your own vanilla sweetness you forwarded the cone to him a sweet sheepish smile on your glowing hearty features. His body guard instantly changed his position to stop you but Harry gave him a stink eye accepting your offer shyly. Your cheeks heating even in the mild temperature when his supple fingers brushed yours.

"Thank you." His voice timid wiping the corners of his heart shaped lips but you just shrugged your shoulders leaning back with your hand pressed against the bench, "no problem. you're welcome." Harry gazes at your collarbones prodding from the flimsy fabric of your v-line then he shifted his gaze down to his Gucci loafers telling himself not to be a pervert. It's just you're too delicate that he can't stop admiring.

"I like your suit." You compliments him with glinting eyes and his cheeks flushed with shyness mumbling a "thank you." Under his erratic breath.

His eyes flutters and tummy flips when you bring your hand closer to him taking the sleeve of his jacket tugging at it, "it's too graphic you know...in a good way." He finds it endearing that you were this engulfed in just the design of his suit and when you tilt your chin peering up at him, he feels like his brain stopped functioning. He nods eyes still locked to yours and when he sense some coldness dripping down his thumb he quickly ducks down to lick it off causing his sculpted cheek to stroke against your silken ones in utter gentleness.

You gulp timidly sitting back straighter.

"So...? For what stuff you're here for Harry?" He loves the way his name sounds mellow coming from you. He clears his throat unwinding his long legs to stretch them wide and it nudged yours sending jolts to both of you, "uh, 'm 'ere fo' Gucci event." You beam at this shifting closer to him.

"I like the way it sounds comin' from you." He cackles at this running his fingers to tame his matte curls.

His tense demeanor slipping bringing his shy, timid and goofball ones exposed to you. He's himself surprised that all the built up frustration in his nerves drained away from your presence.

Being an art major and a fashion geek you asks him with ferverishness patting his knee, "what was it like? I've heard it's mesmerising." He chuckles at this. He wanna scoff because a sweet girl like you wouldn't last a second there.

"'S okay. I guess." He elevates his shoulder in bored expression and when the ice-cream swipes at the tip of his nose you giggled bunching forward to his side. He smiles down at you squinting his eyes narrow in an accuse.

"And what yer' here fo'? Wait yeh from here?" You bite the waffled cone chewing it. Words muffling with a full mouth, "having a trip with my University's friends. I live in London though. I really really wanted to see Milan. So, here I'm." You make an innocent childish face raising your arms in air to show him and his heart's soothing to peace with every homely action you'd pull to make him relaxe.

Then there was silence that Harry was unaware how to break. He could hear you talking for an eternity. On the other hand you aren't that akward to make conversations with people. No doubt you're shy, and wants your own space to blossom but this one habit of yours is inseparable.

"You know when back home. An ice-cream man would come daily at midnight in summers. Me and my cousins would climb up his bicycle cart like darn monkeys. Pop our heads inside the freezer and annoy the fuck outta him. God I miss home." There's this un-pointable feeling. That's unfigurative to Harry but it's there; of admiration and of endearment. His heart's at cloud nine caressing itself to the pink cotton candy.

His heart reaches out for you from his ribcages as the homesickness glistered in your irises. You weren't obliged to talk to him, to give him company but you still did beacuse beautiful accidents and coincidence happen in the admist of rushed streets.

Harry parted his lips to talk to you more but he has nothing, his life's not unknown by anyone and the normal scenarios of people entertains him so much.

His head snaps when you grin widely at him throwing the last and best of cone inside your mouth. Your small pretty mouth chewing like a rabbit and Harry wants to have a touch, just some to shush the fire in his stomach.

His head snapping when you yelled to children that were skipping on rope waving to them, "hey kiddos! Wanna have some ice-cream!?" They all left their play of galloping running towards you. Harry looks at you wide eyes eating his last bits away.

"Our hotel gave us a coupon for free ice-creams." You laugh standing up and he wants to catch you by wrist to stop you going away from him but when you squeeze his shoulder leaning to whisper in his ear chills ran down by his spine, "will be right back." He swallows thickly nodding eyes trailing to you as you collects all the little fellas to cart.

He watches you. Is she an Angel? A mirage to help him out of his anxiousness? Or a smoke in his mind that'll disappear soon? He thinks picking on his nails. He's not ready to step out of the calm bubble you created so delicately around him. Only if life could be this easier.

He rolls his eyes playfully sucking his lips inside his mouth when he sees you paying extra for more. He looks back to his body-guard. Maybe you didn't noticed him or cares less but Harry's kinda annoyed that he has to be here in such a happy vulnerable moment of his life.

"Thank you nice lady!" Harry chuckles gleefully when all of the kids thanked her licking onto their sweets. "It's okay kids, be careful before I take them back."

Shaking your head you strides back to Harry coming to stand infront of him. You can fit perfectly between his legs if he opened them wider for you, that desireful thought swooshed through his mind but he shakes it away.

"Thank ye' nice lady." He squeaks in high teasing pitch standing up and your eyes widened when he literally towered you fully. Your height differences funny even you're in heels.

"Not you now." You declared with blushed cheeks. His irirses glinted when you fumbled with the sides of your dress.

"So...this's it?" You ask him peering up at him with such gooeness he could whimper. Shivers running down your body as the weather turned rather more chill.

"This's it.." Harry whispers. He feels what? a lump of wetness in his throat? He's at the brink though.

"Thank you for bearing my monkey ass." You guffawed out but he has serenity in his eyes. He thins his lips. "I should be the one to say thanks."

He was taken aback when you hugged him running soothing circles at his back. He inhales your tangerine vanilla scent embracing you fully now. If he could freeze the time he would in a snap. He feels like he's all the way back home after travelling shallow through the whole world.

"It's gonna be alright, whatever it's Harry. It'll be alright. You're gonna be alright. It gets bumpy but you still have so much for you." Harry wants to cry in some strangers arms. He feels so defeated and tired. But, the determination and affirmation in your voice made him think opposite. He'll do it. He can do it.

He didn't let you go first. You untageled yourself from him gently swaying on your feet, taking a step back and he couldn't blink his eyes away from you as you bit your crimson lip.

You take steps away from him eyes still locked to his jade ones and he calls you out through the breeze looking for passing by cars if possible because you're standing in the middle of street.

"Hey, stranger!!!" You tilt your chin in a questioning and shake your head at his lopsided cheshire smile, "forgot t' tell ye'r name!" He yells out in rushed anticipation and anxiousness as if he'd loose you if any minute ticks by.

Goosebumps appears at your bare legs from the chill, "Y/N. Y/L/N." Then you spin around raising your hand high atop your head waving it for Harry.

"Ba-bye. Harry." You says loudly but it doom vacuumed to emptiness once you step inside your hotel's lobby leaving Harry at his own sake again.

Standing still at his spot. Hands shoved into his trouser's pocket and long spiral curls framing his sculpted features he watches you with a furrow of his brows from the glass of hotel. His frown getting deeper when you threw your head back laughing when you bumped into your friend who was coming to find you, you caught his wrist eyes widening at something funny he said and Harry sighs thinking maybe you're just this kind and generous and that he's not a special case in your book.

With an exhausted sigh he makes his way towards his bodyguard who gives him a side mishevious eye, "happy now, Styles?" Harry jabs a shove to his bulky shoulder playfully lips twitching and eyes narrowing, "oh shut up!" His mood more lightened and gleeful than his previous one thanks to you.

***

Next day when Kendall and her friend dragged Harry to fancy the local streets of Milan. Harry had a less scowling face than before. They stopped infront of some shop to buy bagels that someone bumped right square into Harry's back making him stumble a little.

It's you. Rushing out of a pharmacy. Harry's gaze trails from your toe to head and his lips parts in surprise. The whole past night in his lonely hotel bedroom you were his dream of heart and the stubborn thought of his mind while the thump of after party going downstairs kept him occupied and fainted the erratic pace of his heart. Then his brows kink in worry and concern at the grueling sight of you.

You're in a pink sweater and pyjamas. Eyes glassy. Cheeks flushed and blazing. Nose running and hair poking out in every direction. He takes a gentle step towards your astonished figure brewing fingers reaching out to hold you but when you keeps a distance from him his heart falls in his arse, and when you cough in your elbow he realizes that you're maybe cold or having a fever.

"You okay, love?" He asks you. Voice that of honey and panic dripping from his features. You gives him a big smile bobbing your head quickly and he have an urgency not to roll his eyes at you. Because you don't seem okay from any angle!

"'M just having a tiny cold it's not that worrisome." Harry's eyes pops out from his socket at your voice. It's groggy and hoarse not that sweet warm honey that was fusing in his ears last night. "Y/N. You can barely speak, are you sure you're okay?" You try to give him a small smile at his care but it got suppressed by another throat tearing cough. Poor little thing. Harry fawns looking down at you.

At this he abruptly saturates the distance between you two, "note me' number, darlin'. Promise me you'd call me if you feel too sick." You give a glance to his two friends coming by to stand beside him.

"Hi." You greet them in hoarseness and they wince when you forward your hand for a shake making you feel ashamed and embarrassed of your politeness when they didn't accepted it. Harry jaw ticks in furiousness as he glares them it's all adding up to push his nerves now.

He takes your shivering hand with an arch of his brow to his friends in challenging sterness noting down his phone number at your palm. You give him a soft "okie." and a "thank you." waving him and his friends a good-bye. He notices that you're not someone to hold grudges against someone. He knows that Kendall's behaviour throws people off but you didn't seem to mind it too much.

"Who was she Harry?" Kendall asks him chewing onto her bagel. Harry shrugs not keen to spill any precise details, "someone I met last night."

She tries to scrape more from him. "How?" Harry closes his eyes tugging at his roots not ready to snap at her.

Harry thinks many times to say the right words so that she'd shut up but still ends up saying something that infuriated her ego and mock, "she offered me ice-cream—" Her friend scoffs perking his head.

"Mate you're nuts for accepting something from a stranger." Logically yes. But you meant no harm to him. Your eyes were truthful and shined with sincerity.

Harry stays silent walking inside their hotel. The hostess asks them if they'd like to have a brunch.

On the other hand you climbed up the stairs to your room with a lazy gait. Your lungs burning. Once inside your room. You takes your medicine with a shivering body and minus energy to even raise your finger. You want to cry but you give a pep talk to yourself that you're a brave girl squishing yourself in your bed, hiding under three blankets.

There's bright sun outside but still you're feeling like someone placed you atop Antarctica's glacier snatching every clothing item from you. Your friends are all out and you wish you could have them. You hate being sick and alone.

When you woke up again. You felt horrible. Feeling like a truck crushed you underneath itself. When you tried to sit up, you fell back a reckless painful sob erupting from your lungs as with wavering fingers you massaged your sweaty forehead. The sheets under you drenched into sweat and hotness. Panic rising in your chest as your vision blurred with blackness so you dialed Harry's number immediately in the fear someone should be with you in case you faint.

"He—" He was cut off with your loud crying. The fork in his hand clanking against the sleek plate gaining everyone's attention. "'S okay. 'M comin'. I'll be there in no time love." He speaks hastily telling his bodyguard not to follow him with a gesture of his hand while striding to his car in big steps.

"Y/N. Darlin'? Yeh' there?" He asks you with his chest tightening with anxiety when the other end of line was dead as grave, "'m, i'm." Your breath spurts into coughs and Harry sighs sympathetically at your condition. It took him fifteen minutes to reach your hotel.

"Which room?" None of you noticed that the phone was still on line. You were half conscious cheeks soaked and smashed into silk pillow case. "Room number, sweets?" He asks you patiently running through different floors to take care of you as soon as possible.

"2-234.." You stutter. Harry halts in the middle of corridor snapping his head everywhere your room was three rooms away from him.

"Can yeh' stand up for me and unlock the door for meh? Can yeh do that sweet girl?" Harry's standing at your door and your sob muffles into your arm when you shake your head in denial. Luckily the door was unlocked.

"Stupid girl." Harry mutters under his breath pressing the red button when he finally tumbles inside your room. He wants to scold you for not caring for your safety when you're sick, fragile and barely able to stand up.

His heart grips into a knot when you turn to your side. The girl he was with last night long gone. Your lips blue and wobbling. Cheeks red and wet. Sweat sheening. Your body shaking. You could be barely seen from under the layers of blankets.

"Oh sweet girl. 'm so sorry." The mattress dips under his weight and he hovers over you taking you in his arms instantly. Squeezing you tight and warm, it feels good so you cuddles your face into the crook of his neck. He gasps when his hand glides down your back and finds it pooling with so much sweat, and you burning like sun outside.

"You're burnin' love." He says with wide eyes cautiously smoothing his hand at your back to make you feel better.

"It hurts, Harry." Harry pulls you from your shoulders rolling his thumb in the dips to massage them, "where?" Your chest rumbles with another whimper as you bolt your eyes shut.

"Everywhere."

He inquires further and you give a drowsy moan when he expertly massages your shoulders and arms, "did you take your medicine?" You nod at this head falling against his chest and if he wouldn't be so worried about your condition his tummy would've flipped so hard.

"And did yeh' ate somethin' befo' that?" When you shake your head in rejection he again pulls you back looking down at you in offend and shock.

"Y/N..." He warns you with a tough expression. Then he cups your cheeks making you look at him even though your eyes are closed he scolds you strictly, "Y/N you should be kind to yourself too."

"Now. 'M gonna take ye' to hospital." He announces and you squirm away from his grip shaking your head like a child. You hate hospitals.

"Y/N..don't be difficult darlin'." Only if he knew he has to deal with this his whole life. As you try to speak your words swallows back when he snakes his arms under your armpits making you stand up.

"No buts. Look at ye'. Yer condition will worsen if yeh' keep refusin' to go." With your whole weight over his side he makes you sit in the passenger seat, stroking your cheek with his knuckles giving you a reassuring smile and rounding to his driver side.

He keeps on checking you through the whole drive. You're still high on fever when he places his palm at the curve of your neck then at your forehead tsking when you moaned in pain, "'s gonna be alright." He rubs your knee trying to give you a smile through his own anxiousness.

They checks you in the ER. The doctor notes your symptoms on his notepad and Harry gazes you in full concentration sitting right beside you, he has your fingers laced with his's and he's continuously rubbing your back to provide you with any warmth.

"I've a very low immune system since I had a tonsillectomy when I was nine. Had an ice-cream last night and quite often I know I get sick in this season." You toy with his silver rings carelessly. Harry admires you. Dunno why. He just do. Because he thinks he might be falling for the way you talk, you behave and try to remain polite in every circumstances.

"Miss Y/N since you've your tonsils removed your coping mechanism from bacteias's less and you've caught a pneumonia." Your head immediately turns to look at Harry and when he sees that fear in your eyes he unwinds his hand from yours leaning to take your chin, "hey...hey lovie'. It's okay you'll heal in a week."

The doctor hands the prescription to Harry. The next thing he announces makes you sob like a five years old, "no. no. no." You shake your head shrinking back and Harry gives the doctor a sheepish akward smile stroking your hair.

Doctor sighs at your behaviour leaving at last, "the nurse will be here soon to give you injections."

Harry quickly stands up shutting the large curtain that's around the stretcher bed you both are sitting at as soon as he comes back you wrap your hands around his forearm. He hisses when you dig your nails to his flesh your tears dropping at his wrists.

"I don't like needles. I loathe them. They scare me." You sniffle and Harry ducks to your level metting your glossy gaze. He caress your head kissing your hair, "you're so brave. I know it. It would just be a pinch. Ye' can squeeze the fuck outta my hand if yeh want to." He has his fingers tucked under your earlobes as he again and again wipes your tears.

The nurse comes to you shutting the curtains behind her. She's old lady in age and observes the couple infront of her. Well, for her you both are looking like one.

You immediately move back to Harry's side as he's sitting now with his front infront of you, "scared of needles." Harry tells her timidly in a low voice puffing his cheeks a bit in gentility.

Harry saps his opal teeth into his lower lip when you wrapped your elbow around the nape of his neck bringing him down closer to you and your face shoved to his chest near his armpit. His other arm wrapping around your waist to flush you closer to him. He tries to drift your attention to himself whispering sweet nothings into your ear and the nurse awes applying alcohol where she has to inject the needle.

"'S okay. We're gonna get home after this, have some soup, will take a nap, watch some telly...." He smoothes his hand over your spine grasping it softly. You stiff in his genial hold twitching and hissing loudly when the needle was poked and pushed into your delicate skin. His white shirt's completely soaked into your tears now but he doesn't give two fucks.

"Just two more." The nurse mutters and you perk your head away from Harry's chest looking at her horrified, "two more!?" You squeak out hiccuping and Harry has to suppress his giggle at your expense from how adorable you look.

He again shoves your head back in his armpit muffling your huffing and tantrums. "Don't move darlin' don't wanna get yeh' hurt." His hold tight and firm.

"Hurts." You pout and Harry traces it stopping himself to just lean down and kiss it. Nurse left you guys to yourself and Harry breaths loudly grinning at you, patting his thighs standing up helping you too.

"Thank you, Harry." You crane your neck to see him properly rubbing your nose once Harry makes sure you're sitting in his car comfortably.

"No problem, love." He kisses your cheek making your lips quirk up for the first time.

***

You're sitting crossed legs on the twin sized bed of your hotel room. Harry takes a quick glance of you pouring soup into some bowl. Your temperature a little bit coming back to normal, sweat still there as you rests your head back at the board of bed. You're room's nothing sort of luxurious it's dinky and compact.

"Here love." Harry hands you the soup making sure to be careful that you don't get burnt and you takes it from him with a series of appreciation.

"Feelin' better now?" He asks you rubbing your ankles as you places your feet in his lap. Blowing onto your soup and he does the same shoving spoonful in his mouth.

"Way better. Felt like dying honestly." Harry couldn't imagine how bad your condition was he saw it himself and he gives you a weak smile, his man-bun getting loose now.

"Where are your friends? they should have known that you weren't feeling well."

"They asked me but—" Harry's low voice cut you off. In just a day he got to know what your nature's like.

"But you didn't wanted to spoil their fun." You roll your eyes playfully wiggling your toes in his lap to tickle his tummy but he catches them making you squeal through sore throat.

He giggles when you slurp purposedly attaching your lips to the rim of your bowl. Once you're full he places your medicine in your palm and when you makes an icky face he gives you a stern gaze, "uh-huh. Take 'em."

When you swallow the bitter medicines down with a huge gulp of water he pats your head, "good girl." He puts the glass at nightstand. Caressing your jaw, "wanna take a nap?" You nod.

"W-would you lay down with me, ...'s just my body aches and—" You tried to explain without letting heat to creep at your cheeks. He bobs his head furiously more than okay to fulfil your wish.

Without any word he shifts gently to your side getting rid of the hair band that was trapping his long curls into a bun, squeezing into twin sized bed with you, "sorry." he quips when you hiss at his cold bare feet touching your warm ones.

"It's okay." You smile up at him moving closer to him. Sheets rustling underneath as you rests your head over his sprawled forearm. Your bodies reacting automatically like one of soulmates when your knee nudged his legs and he parted them so that you could place your sore one in between them. You molded into him like a piece of puzzle, that was just meant to fill the part of him that was scraped out because of his fate leaving him shallow and empty.

"Sorry for ruining your day." You mumble into his neck fingers brushing the baby curls at the nape of his neck. He shakes his head running his thumb in circles under your hair that were sticking to your neck, "No, thank you fo' makin' my day better. 'M havin' fun babying you." You titters at this and he sighs. There's calm. Heart beats in sync. Yours was racing moments ago. You're tangled into eachother's embrace and he pulls thin blanket ontop of both of you.

You purr wishing he could be always with you at how he's a walking talking heater, "you're warm." Harry senses come to a pause at the kitten voice you just let out snuggling into him deeper and exhaling the breath he was holding in. He melts into you kissing your forehead and petting your cheeks.

"Sleep sweet girl." His breathing lulls you to deep slumber.

***

It's late in night. Harry squints his eyes to street lights coming from the balcony window. He groans and when pushes his face away from you, a huge lovesick smile dances at his lips. He slept so good after so long. Your warmth and sweet flesh pressed into him made him drift to sleep so quick.

He brushes your loose hair back, adorning every feature of you. Fever making you look more glowy and swelly. Then when he leans to kiss your forehead he hears the quite whimper escaping from your lips.

He places his hand at your neck to check and you're again burning. Sighing he wakes you up by smoothing his hands down your arm, stroking your hair gently and tapping your cheek with his two fingers.

You're murmuring weepily in your sleep. "Wake up y/n. It's time for your second dose." He keeps his voice slow not to startle you and your eyelids fluttered taking it's time to absorb his presence.

You shift back against the headrest. He brings the glass closer to your lips after giving you medicine. One hand on your head other making you sip water.

"W-wanna go home. Home Harry." You say in your breaths hiccuping and Harry feels so helpless. He tries to calm you down in every way possible.

He knows you're not talking about going back to London. Your talking about your actual homeplace. Then it hits him, that you're both missing that feeling. Even though you're bubbly, happy and cheerful girl you still miss home as Harry does too. You're perfect for eachother.

He takes you in his arms bringing you back to bed. You hug him close to your heart tearing in his embrace, soft whimpers in his ears that's a knife to his stomach. He pecks the side of your head multiple times.

"Home." You sniff eyes dropping. Harry messages your scalp. Your body moving up and down as he breaths. Your continuous blabbering of 'home' dulls to your sleeping breath and Harry's own eyes craved for more drowsiness with you.

He bolts his eyes shut when his phone vibrates under him. "What!?" He spats whisper yelling, you still over him. He doesn't want to disturb you by any means. Not when you're sick and went back to sleep with so much difficulty.

"'M not coming." He declares dryly as his manager tries his best to coax him back to whatever place they want him asap.

He throws his phone onto sheets cuddling back into you, letting your scent to consume him fully. His heart prancing at the thought of serenity he'll feel while sleeping else it's just jolts of anxiety.

***

Next morning your arms were holding onto nothing, there's no shoulder on which you were crying earlier. The room's dull and sheets cold. Sun refused to outshine for today it didn't got any emarld to beam at.

"Harry...?" You whisper innocently rubbing sleepiness from your eyes and when the silence laughed back at your face you sigh sadly.

You knew from the very start that his presence was just a mere touch of heaven and it's not his fault that you never got to complete dive into him.

It's just you and your homesick soul staring blankly at the flower wallpaper. His soft, giddy vanilla smell hugging you from every side. Consuming your body and you didn't realized you'll miss him until now.

Maybe, you and your love was contagious to him.

.

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 a 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞!!! Don't forget to give your feedbacks.

[luvidzy]

☆ genre: fluff

☆ pairing: ju harin x reader

☆ summary: you’ve always hated loud noises, but harin makes you feel safe

☆ word count: 1.5k

You can’t remember where your initial fear of loud noises came from. Maybe it was the thunderstorms when you were little, or the way the kids in your class used to unexpectedly bang on their desks, but even into your adulthood, loud noises brought feelings of fear along with them.

This situation wasn’t always the best, especially when your boyfriend was the drummer for a band. You didn’t listen to them practice and you very rarely went to any of their performances. Harin promised you that it was alright, but you couldn’t help but feel extremely upset at the fact you couldn’t support your boyfriend in the way that you wanted to.

It was the one thing that kept you up at night, making it impossible for you to rest even in the warm embrace of your boyfriend. Harin had always been there for you, no matter what. He let you practice pitches in front of him, brainstormed ideas when your brain just wasn’t quite working, and always brought you coffee on days when work was just a little more strenuous. However, you could barely even go visit him at RBW due to the nature of his job. 

It was after a night just like that that you sat on your couch, fiddling with your fingers after Harin left to go to work. You were listening to some of ONEWE’s music, before you took your phone out to scroll through your twitter. As usual, your feed was full of photos of your boyfriend and his band, along with videos from their concert that they had not too long ago. 

You felt yourself frown as you watched the video of your boyfriend playing his drums, a smile on his face that could only be brought on from doing the thing that he loved most. Today, more than other days, it was eating at your heart that you never got to witness your boyfriend in the environment he loved so much. You never saw him glowing with sweat in person as he twirled his drumsticks on his fingers, a smirk on his face as if he knew he was the most attractive person. After all, even when you did manage to hype yourself up to go to their concerts, you always stayed backstage, watching on the TVs that were available for the sake of your nerves and your fear.

Your eyebrows furrowed and you grew more and more frustrated as you stared at your phone screen. How come you couldn’t get it together and support your boyfriend in the one thing he loved most? You stood up, shoving your phone in your pocket, before heading out of your apartment with determination in your eyes and heart.

It wasn’t until you found yourself outside of Harin and Kanghyun’s shared studio that you started to have second thoughts about what you were doing. You were nowhere near prepared to deal with the loud noises of a drum first hand… maybe it would be best if you left now and took it step by step. 

You were about to turn around when the door flung open and you were met with Hyungu staring at you with a startled expression. His body relaxed as he realized it was you, giving you a small smile as he swept some of his blond hair out of his face.

“Hi, Y/N. Harin, Y/N’s here!” Hyungu exclaimed, leaning back slightly. He gave you a small nod as he slipped past you and into the hallway. You guessed there was no going back now, as you walked cautiously into the room. Harin was already moving to greet you, a happy smile on his face masking the confusion he was feeling.

“Babe! I didn’t know you were gonna come over today, not that I don’t want you here! It’s a nice surprise, is all. Come on, let me grab my jacket and I can take you out for lunch!” Harin rambled, before turning around. Your hand reached out and wrapped around his wrist, tugging him lightly to turn back to you.

“I was actually wondering if you’d be willing to show me your drums,” you muttered, feeling incredibly embarrassed all of a sudden. Harin had seen you at both your highs and lows, but for some reason the thought of Harin seeing you so spooked over something so small made you shrink in fear. Harin’s eyes immediately softened as he walked over to you, raising your face to look at him.

“Are you sure, baby? I know you don’t like loud noises and I don’t want you to get scared.” His voice was low and soft, comforting you in the best way possible. You let yourself smile lightly, before nodding and slipping your jacket off.

“I’m sure.” Harin nodded at your statement, before leading you behind his sound barrier to where his drum kit sat. You stared at it in fascination, eyes taking in every single part of Harin’s prized possession. 

“Come on, let me introduce you to my drums,” Harin said, causing you to laugh lightly. He sat down on his stool, before spreading his legs and patting the space that was left vacant in front of him. Your cheeks heated up as you realized what he wanted, and you slowly walked over and made yourself comfortable in Harin’s lap.

“Now, all of these different drums and cymbals have a different purpose. They all make a different sound and most make multiple different sounds depending on how you hit them…” Harin began explaining every single thing he could to you while you listened with eagerness. He was thorough with his explanations, answering any questions that you had with a smile and a kiss to your cheek for asking such a good question.

“And they all come together to create something magical. Do you want to hear?” Harin’s voice was cautious, knowing that this was the part of the drums that you were not fond of. You took a deep breath, determined to at least try and listen to Harin’s skills, before nodding. Harin noticed your nerves and wrapped his arms around your middle, giving you a soft squeeze. It was far more comforting than you thought it would be, and you felt your heartbeat slow slightly as Harin grabbed his drumsticks from his desk.

His arms looped around you and he rested his chin on your shoulder so he could see what he was doing, making sure to give you a warning he was about to start, before he began playing the rhythm line to 0&4 for you.

The initial loudness of the drums caused you to flinch a little bit, but after that you found yourself entranced with the movement of Harin’s hands and the sounds coming from the drums in front of you. Your eyes watched with curiosity as Harin’s drumsticks moved from drum to drum with ease and his foot tapped the bass drum pedal to create a low thumping sensation that you could feel in your feet and in your chest.

As Harin finished his short demo, all you could do was stare at how beautiful he looked playing and how much you adored the sound of him playing. It was your first time seeing him play live, and even though it was just a little demo of a song, you could feel your heart bursting with joy at the thought of getting to see him do that again.

Despite the confusion that swirled in your brain at your lack of fear towards the loud instrument, you knew already what had made the noise so bearable. Having Harin right by you, holding you and letting you know everything would be okay was the remedy to your problem. It wasn’t a permanent solution, but it was a start and that was more than enough for you.

“How are you feeling?” Harin’s words brought you back to reality and you turned your body to stare at him. He was looking at you with worried eyes, his eyebrows furrowed like he was trying to solve the puzzle of your emotions. All his worry dissipated when you smiled warmly.

“I have never felt so safe before. At least not around such a loud object,” you admitted. Harin felt his heart pound at your admission and he couldn’t help but give you a light peck on the lips. The kiss was brief but everything you needed to say was said in the few seconds you were connected; Harin expressing his happiness at getting to share his music with you and you expressing your thankfulness for him being your comfort. You smiled against his chapped mouth, before pulling back and turning around so you were facing the drum kit once more. 

“Well, I think the only logical next step is for you to teach me how to play,” you said, a determined glint in your eye. Harin laughed from behind you, his heart full and warm at your eagerness to try out his instrument.

“Whatever you say, baby,” he replied, before handing you the drumsticks, placing his large hands over yours, and beginning your first, but not last, lesson on how to conquer the thing that you had once feared.

[luna-redamancy]

Hi! I was wondering if I could request a small fic with Kili? I had a very hard day at work today and I started thinking about how Kili would take care of his one/reader being all exhausted and sad after a long day of walking/working? Maybe he would give her a massage or bathe together, I don't know... it would be very nice please 🙏! I hope you're having a good day ❤ and thank you!

Hi lovey! I hope you enjoy the fic and I also hope you’re having a wonderful day too! ❤️

Your movements were sluggish as you entered your shared chambers, the stress from the day combined with the heat was enough to make you want to take a bath and then curl up in bed, not facing the world for another moment. 

“(Y/n)?” Kili questioned, he too coming back to your shared chambers after sparring with Fili. 

Not hearing him, you continued inside, tossing your basket of goods on the dresser before face planting into the bed. You sold things in the market every day except for two days of the week, but today just was too much. The heat, the yelling, the demanding for you to lower your prices, it was too stressful. 

Peeking his head in first, Kili frowned when he saw you sprawled face down on the bed, your shoes not even taken off. 

“(Y/n)?” 

Lifting your hand you gave a small thumbs up to acknowledge him. This was odd. Usually you’d give him a kiss and a hug as a greeting, or even a bright smile and a ‘hello’. 

Deciding to not disrupt your silence further, Kili slunk into the bathroom, beginning to fill the bath with salts and scented oils. Once the tub was full enough, Kili quietly walked back into the room, his expression softening seeing your deep breathing. You were exhausted. 

Grabbing two robes and a comb, Kili went back into the bathroom to set them next to the tub. 

Checking off his mental list, Kili nodded, satisfied that he was ready to help you feel better. 

“Lukhudel? (Light of all lights)” He called out softly, rubbing your back as you opened your eyes from your light dozing. 

“Ki?” You called back, confused and not realizing that you fell asleep. 

“C’mon…” He helped you sit up as you rubbed your eyes, tugging you into the bathroom. 

“Let’s get you relaxing now, hm?” Kili was so soft seeing you so sleepy and clinging onto him that he felt bad ruining your comfortable bubble of sleepiness but he knew it was for the best. 

Helping you tug off your clothes, Kili followed suit before sitting in the water and beckoning for you to sit in front of him. Carefully stepping into the steamy water, you sighed as you rested against his chest.  “Rough day?” Kili questioned, running his hand up and down your back, cupping water in his hands and pouring it down your back to warm it. 

“Jus’ exhausted,” You responded, looping your arms around his waist. “I don’ know why I do this to myself, Ki… I love what I do but what am I doing it for?” You questioned, looking down at the rose petals he sprinkled in the water, feeling a smile threaten to tug at your lips. 

“You’re doing it because it makes you happy, getting to see smiles on peoples faces because of something you created... “ Kili reminded you of your words that you said a few days ago when you came home elated from the happiness you were able to spread. 

Humming in acknowledgment, you pressed a kiss to his chest. “Maybe you should take a break for a few days?” Kili recommended as he began to lightly massage your back. 

“Maybe…” You agreed as you felt your tension slowly leaving your body.

Kili slowly adjusted you, making you sit up so he could wash your hair. Taking a small cup, Kili poured water over your hair before rubbing the soap in between his hands to make it foamy, running it through your scalp to remove the dirt and oil from the day. 

Relaxing into his hands you hummed as he rinsed it out, pressing kisses to your wet hair before applying oils and creams to your hair to keep it soft. 

Moments later you sat on a bench in a robe, Kili in his own robe behind you with a comb in his hands, carefully combing and braiding your locks before pressing a soft kiss to your neck. 

“Can we cuddle now?” You asked, leaning your head back to look up at him. Kili smiled before pressing a kiss to your nose. “Of course.”

Kili would do anything to help you feel better after a long exhausting day.

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[alexandenigtscreations]

Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast Summary:

What if Juno didn't have time to heal properly from the soul incident before he and Ransom went on their first mission in the Aurinko crime family?

__________________

“I recommend we turn our walk into a run.” Nureyev said, not daring to look at the scene Miss Nova Zolotova was making.  “A very fast run, Go!”  and gave a gentle shove to the small of Juno’s back as they broke into a sprint, Juno hitching up the golden skirt as they fled.  His footsteps fell farther and farther behind, glancing back Nureyev saw his face twisted into a grimace “Quickly now Detective!” he called.

“I’d like to see you run in 6 inch heal-ahh!” he stumbled and Nureyev grasped his elbow to keep him upright at the very least.  He’d have to have a chat with Buddy about practical footwear later.  Hopefully. 

The security was closing in fast, one of them even throwing a flashy prop blaster at their retreating backs; the shot went wide.  It was no matter.  There was their ride up ahead, hovering just over the precipice of the floating mansion.  He’d rarely been so glad to see a car.

“When I say jump-”

“What are you crazy?! I’m not gonna-”

“Jump!” 

The pair dove into the transport’s open door, Nureyev never loosening his hold on a screaming Juno’s arm as they fell into a heap in the back seat.  

“Hello.” said Jet “please fasten your seatbelts.”

“A little busy- at the moment.” Nureyev disentangled an arm to pull the door shut.  “For now, might I suggest we make our getaway.”  Several drones shot out of crevices.  While the security inside had to meet aesthetic requirements, there were no such restrictions on the outer team.

“I’m merely pointing out that our escape may be bumpy.” said Jet, nonetheless plugging their route on the controls. Doing a complicated maneuver to avoid a hasty trap.  Juno hissed as the pair were jostled about, clinging to Nureyev in a peculiar fashion “The security is different from the schematics Buddy provided.” Jet grunted, pulling hard on the steering console.  

“They updated the security system at 2 a.m.” Nureyev supplied, throwing out a hand to brace against the car’s side.  

“2 a.m.?  A last minute security switch then.”

“Quite, not the most organized affair, but a switch nonetheless.” It was Juno that found that out, Juno that had saved his overly cocky self from being caught by the cameras.  He was still rattled from the whole affair.  

The lady in question was unusually quiet, the quietest he’d been all evening.  Huddling into Nureyev’s side where he’d landed; a hand wrapped around his middle, breath coming in fast and shallow.  Nureyev was reminded of Juno's less than favorable reaction to their joy ride in the Ruby 7.  Was this his motion sickness?  or- something else- concern welled up in his chest.

“Juno?” he asked softly, struggling into an upright position moving the other with him “You didn’t get hurt, did you?” 

“Wha?  No- it’s juss-'' he pushed away and leaned over “hard for a lady to catch his breath in a get up like this.  Besides'' he winced, reaching into the folds of the skirt “landed on something kind of hard.” and produced the Gilded Globe of Reaches Far with a weak smile, that made Nureyev’s nerves flutter.  The golden circuitry and intricately carved gems glinting in the faint light of the floating mansion.  Nearly losing it after a sharp maneuver from Jet.

“Might I suggest you put that away until we are back in the carte blanche?”  

Once back, they were informed to make a showing for the family meeting to debrief the others on the mission.  Juno disappeared to change, hobbling into the meeting room a half hour later looking morose. 

“So kind of you to make it darling. I was just about to send Jet after you.” Buddy greeted.  

“That dress is a nightmare to get out of.” he shot back.  

“Yes, well, if you need help, all you have to do is ask.  Ransom,” Juno made a funny sort of cough “has just been telling us the details.  It worked for the best this time, but for future reference, when you have an account filled with fake credits, best not draw too much attention to it.”

Juno sighed, collapsing into a seat.  Something seemed to be weighing on the detective, something other than the disaster of a mission the pair had endured.  Nureyev kept glancing over, noting the way Juno sat hunched over on himself, the tired way he recanted the mission, the way he tore their performance to shreds.  They had finally started to work as a team near the end, but before then- well, they both had a lot to say about the faults in their plans.  The only thing Buddy scolded them for was failing to keep her in the loop, and chastising Nureyev for not relying more on Juno.  

They had successfully retrieved the globe but it did not feel like a victory.  

Later, after the debriefing and a private word with Buddy, Juno came to his room to talk.  Well, Juno talked, a long winded apology Nureyev barely managed to listen to as his mind whirred with the information Buddy left him.

“Point is I’m jus- sorry.”  he stopped, eye over bright and wide in anticipation.  

Nureyev couldn’t think of what to say, it was clearly his turn, as it were, clearly the time to speak, but….

“Juno-” his voice came out soft and strained.  

The other man stood unsteadily “I-I’m too late aren't I, damn it, I- I should leave-” 

Nureyev swallowed, catching Juno’s hand in his “Not too late, Juno, not too late at all.” he gave a short humorless laugh “In fact, I can’t think of anyone I would want to stay with more than you.”  

Relief washed over Juno’s face as he pulled away.  “Hell, don’ tell me that’s it!”  He started to laugh, there was something off about it though, “You know how s-scared I was of-of this?  Of us?  Of- ahhh-'' he doubled over clutching his stomach for the second time that day.  

Nureyev dashed to his side “Juno?  Juno what’s wrong?” He grasped his shoulders trying to get him to look him in the eye.  They sank to the floor, Nureyev pulling him close like he had done in Miasma’s compound.  

That’s when he realized what was so off putting about the situation, Juno was in pain, serious pain and had been for quite some time.  Only he’d been too caught up in his own stupid thoughts to notice it before.  Just like the mission.  

The last instance he saw Juno this bad off was during Miasma's experiments in an old Martian Tomb.  

“Juno!”

“N-Nothin- jus feelin a bit woozy-”

“Woozy?” Nureyev pulled him closer, ghosting a hand down his side and- there was something damp there, sticky even.  

“Yeah, being swept off your feet has that effect on a la-ahh!” he curled tighter into his chest, like he did in the car, breathing far too hard.  “Don’ touch.”  Nureyev wasn’t paying attention now, thoroughly distracted by the russet smear cross his fingers.

“Juno you’re bleeding.”  His mind reeled.  Juno had been hurt, but when- how?  Why hadn’t he said anything.  

“Oh yeah, what do you know?  Thanks for the update.”

“Let me have a look.”

“N-no, it’s fine.”  He struggled to push himself upright, “shouldn’t be here.”

“Oh don’t be such a baby.” he pushed Juno back gently so he was resting against the dresser.  Juno let him, leaning his head back and closing his eye in exhaustion.  Lifting his shirt elicited a soft “ohhh-” from the thief.  

He was covered in injuries that couldn’t be more than a few weeks old, judging by the angry red and pink of the lacerations.  The corset couldn’t have been doing his healing process any favors.  Some of the wounds had opened, and Juno had placed large Band-Aids over the top.  Those would need tending to, but the one that was most concerning was one where a bandage was wrapped around his lower ribcage, blood dying the once pristine fabric a deep red.  

“May of had a lil’ more f-fun than anticipated today-”  

“Juno, what happened?” Nureyev cupped his face, gently stroking a thumb over Juno’s cheek bone.  He felt hot to the touch.  It only added to the concern.  

“Stupid really- I hit some space junk- and-” he paused, pulling in air “it hit back.” 

“Space junk-? Never mind that, why didn’t you tell us?”

“I did-”

“What? When?”

“At the meeting family thing.  Wasn’t- feelin my best-”

Nureyev thought back to the family meeting hours ago, he hadn’t been paying attention.  He remembered Juno supporting his resume and spilling his coffee moments after a defiant declaration to Buddy he could drink it.  The situation had been comical at the time, but he remembered how his hands had shook-  Same when he tripped on the carpet to the galla.  

Juno was many things, but he wasn’t a novice to heals or an elegant gown, his performance on the dance floor spoke to his skill.  His impatience to end the auction, and the way he’d bulled him over when he tried taking the globe prematurely.  The way his face had twisted, and how tightly he squeezed Nureyev-  Was that what had done it?  Or was it when they escaped to the transport-   

The truth was, Nureyev hadn’t been paying attention.  He didn’t pay attention and Juno was hurting because of it.

“Wasn’t feeling your best?  Juno, these are serious injuries.”

“N-not anymore-” Juno sighed “And we needed- the map- the Cure Mother-” he drew in another ragged breath “It could do a lot of pe-eople a lot a good.” 

Fear coiled in Nureyev’s gut as he thought of the words Buddy had said to him mear hours before ‘We are not legends- legends are dead things-’

How many times had Juno almost become a legend himself?  How many times had he tried to sacrifice himself for the greater good? 

“I’m going to get Vespa.”

“N-no!” Juno gasped, grabbing hold of the other’s wrist “Nureyev, please- I- I don’t want her to see me- right now.  Don’t need it-”

“Detective, you need more than I can give you.”

“It’ll stop- soon-” he was almost pleading “please, jus’ stay.” 

Nureyev looked at Juno Steel for a good long moment- he loved this man- it was a simple truth that he’d tried to run from- even going so far as to let him walk away on those soft feet in the dead of the night all that time ago-

He could live without Juno Steel- but it was getting harder and harder to understand why he’d wanted too.  

“Oh- have it your way Detective.  But you’re going to let me patch you up at the very least; I will not have you bleeding out on my watch.”

Juno gave an exhausted, wicked grin “Thanks Toots.” 

Nureyev relieved Juno of his soaked shirt and unwounded the bandage; careful as to not interfere with the clotting blood to reveal a truly evil wound.  A jagged V carved into the side of his ribcage, deviating into the vulnerable flesh of his stomach; half-healed bruises blotching his skin.  It wasn’t hard to believe Juno lost a fight with space junk.  The stitching had torn apart, none too neatly either.  

It wasn’t wise to stitch him up again, best let the doctor do the proper patching.  But, maybe, he could hold it off till morning.

He cleaned it best he could, Juno occasionally letting out little piteous sounds as he worked.  It was intimate, he could feel every stuttering breath under his long fingers, every twitch and tensed muscle.  He had him like this before, under more enjoyable circumstances, delighting in the honesty that played across his face-  But now- there were only gasps of pain and watery smiles.  Worry settled heavily in his chest, he’d just gotten him back, and now this-

Fresh gauze packed tight and back the bandage went.  Juno’s feverish head resting in the crock of Nureyev’s neck as he wound it tightly around.  He was given a fresh bed shirt, the largest one Nureyev had packed.  Juno was more muscular than he was, smaller in stature but broader of shoulder.  He was lucky to find anything to fit him at all.

“Okay, to bed love.” and pressed a kiss into his curls, marveling at how easy the term of endearment slipped from his lips.  “You’ve got a doctor’s appointment in the morning.” 

“I- don’ want too-” Juno whined, but placidly allowed Nureyev to maneuver him to the mattress.  He curled on his good side, laying his head in the hollow point of Nureyev’s arm.  

Nureyev found himself hoping that this time, he would stay.  

In the morning- he’d see Juno treated and that would be that.  He ran his fingers along his back in a soothing fashion and fell asleep to his lady’s gentle breath.  

 It was that same breath that woke Nureyev some odd hours later-

[ragingbookdragon]

Love In Frozen Places

Outlaws x Tamaranean!Reader Story

A/N: Ayeeeeee this is a story I actually like! Enjoy! -Thorne <3

She watched him kick at the rubble, cursing as he began yanking chunks of ice and concrete away. It did nothing, the buildup too much for him to clear; the other man rested his hand on his arm, tugging lightly. “Jaybird. It’s no use. There’s too much rubble for us to clear right here.” He tipped his head to the hallway. “Let’s see if there’s another way out.” Jason jerked away, spinning on him angrily.

           “It’s your fault we’re in this mess Roy! I told you not to use the explosives, but what did you do?!” Jason gestured to the room. “We’re stuck in a frozen lab!” Roy flinched ever so slightly at his anger but returned his own heated words.

           “Yeah and if I hadn’t used the explosives, the three of us would be dead!” He pointed to the blocked entrance. “There are armed soldiers out there!” Roy turned his finger on himself, then to Jason and her. “I’m out of arrows, you’re out of ammo, and (Y/N)’s powers have been fluctuating all day! If I hadn’t blown up the entrance, we’d be full of lead right about now! I saved our lives!” Jason scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

           “Oh yeah, save our lives only to end up freezing us to death!” He twisted, kicking at some of the ice, muttering, “Can’t believe I’m gonna freeze to death in the middle of fucking nowhere and it’s all your fault.” Roy sighed, running a hand through his hair.

           “I’m sorry Jay.” (Y/N) watched the two for a moment before moving towards them, resting a hand on Jason’s back; her voice was calm as she said,

           “It will do us no good to fight amongst each other.” She cast her gaze between the two men, catching Roy’s evergreen eyes. “We need to look for a way out and fast.” Jason turned back around, voice tight as he pointed.

           “That was the only way out (Y/N). We’re trapped in here.” She paused for a moment, then said,

           “Then we need to find something that will keep us warm.” Roy glanced around the room.

           “I don’t think there’s gonna be much in here that will. Everything here is either frozen solid or it’s been scavenged.” He took another look around. “Might as well check anyway.” He walked off, leaving her and Jason beside one another; (Y/N) eyed Jason before moving past him to the shelves along the walls. She shifted through the remains, frowning as she realized Roy had been correct; everything in there had to have been scavenged before the lab was deserted. As she searched, a flash of silver caught her eye, and she halted, reaching for it.

           “Boys…I think I found something.” Footsteps sounded behind her, and as they peered over her shoulders, she pulled it back. “I think this is one of those first aid blankets…the ones that preserve body heat.” Jason nodded, taking it from her, spreading it out.

           “Looks to be in good condition.” He examined it, flipping it over. “I’m surprised seventy years in a Siberian laboratory hasn’t eaten it.” He looked up at the two. “There’s only one way to keep warm.” Roy snorted at his words as (Y/N) rolled her eyes, and they all collapsed against the wall, (Y/N) situated between the two. She grunted as they squeezed close to her, her arms digging into her sides; Roy heard her, and leaned close, murmuring,

           “Can you feel the warmth (Y/N)?” She jerked her head up, glaring at him.

           “I can feel something. And if you do not move your hand, I will rip it off.” His fingers twitched against her side, curling under the armor along her waist.

           “But my fingers are freezing (Y/N)…and you feel like a furnace.” Before she could respond, another set of fingers curled along her skin on her other side, and a voice followed,

           “Roy’s got a point (Y/N). Tamaraneans like you and Kory run hotter than us humans.” He looked at her, flashing his teal eyes. “Pretty please let us borrow your body heat so we don’t lose our fingers?” (Y/N) stared at him a moment, then heaved a sigh.

           “…Fine…do as you wish…” The two chuckled, curling up against her. Roy rested his head along her shoulder, burrowing his face in her skin while Jason simply let his fingers rest along her side. After an hour, Jason had become like Roy, resting his head on her arm, and (Y/N) simply watched the blocked entrance, keeping guard. A moment passed, then Roy asked,

           “Did you guys ever think that when you were kids, this is where you’d end up?” (Y/N) glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, listening as Jason shot back,

           “Trapped in a frozen shithole? Yeah, that’s exactly what I thought about when I was a kid.” Roy opened his mouth to retort, but (Y/N) was quicker, quipping,

           “Technically Gotham can be counted as a frozen shithole, so that is not such a far-off statement.” Roy leaned forward, a look of victory on his face as he yelled,

           “HA! EAT IT!” (Y/N) chuckled as Jason gripped, and Roy looked at her. “What about you (Y/N)? Did you ever think you’d end up here?” She paused, voice soft as she asked,

           “Surrounded by the ones I love most?” Her voice cut off, then she shook her head. “…No…as a child…the only thing I thought about was how good it would feel to take my revenge on those who corrupted my sister and I…” She could feel their eyes on her as she rested back along the wall. “I was filled with such hatred and rage as a child…I experienced things no child…no person should ever experience…and the only thing that kept me going was the thought that one day I would stand before them and pull their spines from their backs.” (Y/N) inhaled deeply, holding her breath for a moment, then exhaling shakily. “I never got the revenge I intended…but I received the world in the later years…” She looked between the two, smiling faintly. “So, no Roy…this is not where I thought I would end up…but there is nowhere I would rather be than here…with you both.” The looks they sent her made her cheeks warm and she cleared her throat, turning her head back to the front. “We are wasting precious energy…it is only going to get colder…stop talking and preserve it.” The two chuckled, resting their heads back along her arms.

           A few hours later, the temperature had dropped considerably, and (Y/N), despite her alien physiology, could feel it seeping into her body. She knew that if it was affecting her, it was certainly affecting Jason and Roy. She took a breath, watching as her exhale became visible, and turned her head slightly, glancing at Jason; she leaned close to him, whispering, “Jason?” He inhaled, pushing up against her.

           “Hmm?”

           “Are you okay?” He nodded, clenching his jaw to avoid his teeth chattering together.

           “Fine…just a little chilly…” (Y/N)’s eyes turned worried as she shifted her gaze to Roy, who was no doubt freezing at this point, as he was shivering against her body.

           “Roy?” He gave no response at first and she wiggled her shoulder. “Roy? Are you awake?” He let out a low groan, the arm around her waist tightening.

           “…‘M fine…jus’…resting my eyes…” (Y/N) shifted her body, uncurling his arm from around her waist. He let out a whine as she took his arm away, but he went silent as she pulled his body to hers, wrapping her arm around his waist. Roy dropped his head into her neck, his breath cool against her skin. (Y/N) did the same with Jason, letting him shift the same way Roy had against her. Her arms tightened the best they could around them. Fear surged through her as she looked between them. Roy was already beginning to fall asleep, and Jason didn’t seem too far behind him; she knew how different their bodies were compared to hers…they’d be gone long before she was. The very thought sent waves of terror through her veins and she squeezed tightly.

           “You both need to stay awake. Falling asleep is too dangerous.” She nudged Roy. “Roy, wake up.” He moaned, curling his arm across her stomach.

           “…Lemme res’ a minute sweetheart.” The nickname made her grin despite the circumstances, but she quickly frowned.

           “Roy, if you fall asleep you will die. Hypothermia is setting in. Do not fall asleep.” He nodded against her, though it seemed useless, and she turned her attention to Jason. “Jason?” He nodded, a bit more awake then Roy.

           “I’m fine…I’m not at the stage yet.” Her frown seemed to deepen as she whispered,

           “But you are getting close.” Jason said nothing, agreeing with her, and she closed her eyes, slamming her head back against the wall. “Why can I not use my powers?! What is going on with them?!”

           “You’re fluctuating because it’s cold Doll…and that attack you took a while ago knocked you for a loop.” Jason made the same move Roy did, wrapping his arm around her waist; he dug his fingers into Roy’s sleeve, tapping at his skin. “Roy? Hey Roy? You up?” Roy twitched, cracking an eye open.

           “Mmm?” Jason squeezed his wrist, voice quiet as he apologized,

           “I’m sorry Roy…if I hadn’t taken this job…we wouldn’t be in this mess…” Roy chuckled, the sound forced as he shivered hard.

           “‘S’not your fault…Jaybird…shot the entrance…my fault…” (Y/N) listened to the two apologize to one another. It seemed so final that that she felt her eyes watering. She shut her eyes, feeling the tears run down her cheeks, freezing against her skin; she sucked in a breath, voice shaky as she begged,

           “Please don’t fall asleep Roy…Jay…please don’t leave me alone…” Their fingers twitched in response, voices soft as they assured,

           “We’re not going anywhere Doll…promise…” Roy nodded.

           “Mmm…what ‘ay said…” (Y/N) pulled them tighter to her, listening as their breathing became quiet. A little while later, Roy had all but stopped shivering against her, and Jason had now acted as Roy did, his words beginning to slur when she would talk to him. (Y/N) rubbed circles in Roy’s side, trying to give any warmth she could, and she kept Jason awake with any topic she could think of.

           “And I began to wonder if I should have told Dick that he was eating the testicles of a prestigious beast from Tamaran.” Jason heaved a sigh, lips curling slightly.

           “‘S funny Doll.” She glanced down at him, running her hand through his hair.

           “Yes?” He nodded and she asked, “Would you try the prestigious delicacies of Tamaran?” Jason let out another laugh, shifting closer to her.

           “…Maybe…depends on…what it is…” He shivered violently against her, sending worry up her spine as he burrowed into her neck. (Y/N)’s fingers curled around his neck, warming the back of his neck.

           “Stay conscious Jason.” He weakly nodded, whispering,

           “Trying to…” After a moment, (Y/N) frowned, eyes moving back to the rubble.

           “I need to try and move that out.” She began to shift, heart clenching as Jason whined and Roy let out a quiet whimper. She turned, gently folding Roy and Jason together, and he cracked his eye open.

           “What’re you doing?” (Y/N) tucked the blanket around them, rising from her knees.

           “I need to move the rubble out of the way and signal for help.” She bent over, placing a hand on his cheek. “If you start to fall asleep, call for me, okay?” When he didn’t say anything, she tapped his cheek lightly. “Jason?” He nodded.

           “Call you…got it.” She watched him for a moment, then moved to the lab entrance, picking up rubble and shoving it aside. The cold bit into her already freezing fingers, and she could barely feel each scrape and cut she got as she threw another chunk. She worked for a few minutes, barely denting the mass; she cursed, stepping back a few feet, raising an arm towards the rubble. (Y/N) tried to focus her energy to her palm, but the cold seemed to zap it all away, and nothing happened. She let out a curse in her native tongue, raising her hand again. Again, nothing happened, and she turned to them, eyes widening as she took in the sight of Jason’s head lowered, hanging limply. (Y/N) rushed to them, shaking them roughly.

           “Jason! Roy!” They gave her no response and with realization setting in, (Y/N) began to hyperventilate. She shook them again. “You both promised you would not leave me! Think about me and the others! Dick and my sister! Your families!” The tears began to flow down her cheeks as she shouted helplessly. “Please do not leave me here alone!” (Y/N) pressed her forehead up against their heads, whimpering, “…I am afraid.” She jerked back, scrambling for the entrance; furiously, she heaved away the ice and rubble, screaming wildly. “SOMEONE HELP ME! PLEASE! THEY ARE DYING!” Something surged inside her at the truth in her words, and a bright blast of white light extended from her hand, slamming against the blockage. It blew the rubble away, but as she took a step towards it, her knees buckled beneath her and she hit the ground. (Y/N) couldn’t stop herself as she dropped, face resting against the frigid metal flooring; her fingers dug into the metal as she tried to will her body to move, but to no avail. She began to give up, reality affirming around her, until she heard voices coming from the hallway. Someone turned the doorway, gasping, then running to her; they slid beside her, turning her over.

           “(Y/N)!” Her eyelids fluttered and she looked up into a familiar face.

           “…Dick?” He shifted his gaze to the wall, then to the hallway.

           “B! They’re in here! Hurry!” He looked down at her, a worried smile on his lips. “You’re gonna be okay (Y/N). We’re here to help. You’re all gonna be okay.” She nodded wordlessly, eyelids beginning to droop at his promise, his shouts drowning together as darkness called her name.

A Day Later:

           Wherever she was, it was warm. She felt as if she was back in their apartment, curled up in her blankets, safe and sound. If this is heaven, she thought, don’t make me leave. She drifted for a while, then she felt fingers trace along her hand, a comforting voice following. “Sister? Are you awake? You’ve been asleep for a long time. Wake up.” Koriand’r? She thought. “(Y/N). Wake up.” The firmness of her voice shook (Y/N) from sleep, and she peeled her eyelids open, immediately closing them as the light blinded her. “Take a moment sister…wake up slowly.” (Y/N) grunted, muttering,

           “I could do it without your nattering in my ear Kory.” A slap connected to her arm and she opened her eyes, staring at her grinning, but teary-eyed sister; Kory took one look and leaped towards her, wrapping her arms around her neck.

           “Oh, I was so worried when Dick called me yesterday. He said you and the others were in bad shape.” (Y/N)’s eyes went wide, and she jerked away, flipping over the side of the bed to her feet. She wobbled, seeing Kory rising out of the corner of her eye. “(Y/N)? What are you doing?! You are not ready to move!” She paid Kory no mind, holding herself up along the wall.

           “I need to see Jason and Roy. Now.” (Y/N) made it to the door when it swung open, revealing Dick; he jumped back in surprise, obviously not expecting her to be up and moving.

           “(Y/N)?!” She reached out, collapsing onto him. His arms wound around her, holding her up. “What are you doing up? You need to rest!” (Y/N) shook her head, raising it to look him in the eyes.

           “Take me to Jason and Roy…please Dick…” His gaze shifted over her to Kory, who reluctantly nodded; Dick heaved a sigh.

           “…Alright…but I’m carrying you there…you’re still weak.” (Y/N) scoffed at him.

           “I will not be carried like a bride on her wedding night.” Dick snorted, then bent down.

           “Fine. How ‘bout a piggyback ride?” (Y/N) eyed him a moment, then climbed onto his back.

           “…This is suitable.” He chuckled as he walked them down the hallways. She looked around as she rested her chin on his shoulder, arms wound around his neck. “Where are we?”

           “The Watchtower.” (Y/N) blinked in surprise.

           “I assumed we would be at the manor.” Dick nodded at that.

           “I understand why you’d think that, but Bruce said it would be safer and faster to get you here.” Dick stopped in front of a door, leaning close so the scanner could catch his eye; the door slid open and he stepped inside. “When we found you three, you were in bad shape…we didn’t think Roy was gonna make it.” (Y/N)’s fingers clenched in his shirt, and as he felt it, he reassured, “Roy’s fine (Y/N)…he’s just needing a bit more recovery.”

           “…And Jason?” Dick snorted.

           “Jaybird’s stubborn…he’s been awake for about an hour before you.” She nodded, and they stepped through another entry, and she saw Roy asleep on a bed, Jason curled in the fetal position halfway down the bed; Dick cleared his throat. “Hey Jaybird…brought you a surprise.” Jason lifted his head, eyes widening as he took in (Y/N).

           “Doll!” She felt Dick lower her to the ground and she ran on uneasy legs until she collapsed on the bed next to him. They wound their arms around each other, and (Y/N) couldn’t help the tears.

           “I was so worried that you were gone.” She pulled away, holding his face in her hands. “I am so glad you are alive and well.” (Y/N) let go, glancing at Roy. “Is he?” Jason nodded, taking her hands in his.

           “He’s fine…he’ll need another day of rest before he can be up and about. But,” He squeezed her hands, making her look at him. “Bruce told me that you had cleared the rubble from the door.” (Y/N) nodded.

           “I do not know how…but I did.” He shook his head.

           “However you did it, you saved our lives. Bruce said another few minutes and we would’ve been goners.” He smiled at her, reaching up to brush the tears from her skin. “You saved our lives (Y/N).” She smiled at him, letting out a watery laugh as more tears flowed down her cheeks; Dick watched them, then caught Jason’s eye, nodding as he left the room. The door shut and (Y/N) pulled back, eyes turning to Roy; she leaned over, resting against him, watching Jason lay beside her. The two were silent, listening to Roy breathe, then she whispered,

           “I think we should take a week off and do nothing.” Jason chuckled, fingers brushing along her cheek.

           “I like that idea…but I swear to god if I wake up and you and Roy have crawled into bed with me, I will blow a gasket.” (Y/N) giggled, snuggling closer into the blankets.

           “You act like you hate it…but you don’t…” Jason glared at her for a moment, then heaved a sigh.

           “…Yeah…I don’t…” She smiled widely, and he reached over, gently poking her nose. “Take a nap (Y/N)…we’ll be here when you wake up.” Her smile dropped, the memories of the day before flashing to mind, but a squeeze to her hand brought her back, and she met firm teal eyes. “I promise.” (Y/N) swallowed thickly, then nodded, closing her eyes. Just as she was beginning to drift, she heard Jason whisper something that brought another smile to her lips. “We won’t leave you again.”

[harrieatthemet]

what about harry thinking you're cheating on him because he's been going to the studio more often and having more meetings and you're being suspicious and one night, he hears you talking on the phone with someone like "yeah, he has no clue" and that sets him off and you guys get into a fight and you end up telling him you were planning a surprise party to celebrate his new album

I tweaked it a bit, BUT SAME PLOT. BON APP THE FEET Y’ALL.

He doesn’t like secrets.

Who fucking does? Really he hates them. He hates being left out, excluded. Being out of the loop is such a sore spot for him and it just, makes him twitch with curiosity. And more times than not his mind wanders, usually ending up at the worst case scenario, because nobody clues him and his thoughts are his worst enemy. 

What are you keeping from him? He’s onto you, now. Somethings off, he can feel it, even when you’re gone and out of the house, somethings off. 

He wakes up, and the bed is cold. Stiff, almost. And each time his eyes peel open, your pillow has morphed back to it’s usual size, and the fact that there’s no indent from from your head tells him you’ve left a while ago.

Where are you creeping off to? You’re not even downstairs, there’s no noise in this house aside from the purring of the fridge and irritating tick of the clock in the hallway just outside the bedroom.

He wants you to be home in the mornings, like you usually are. He can’t even remember the last time he woke up with his nose pressed to the back of your head. And it’s been a while since he’d crept into the bathroom to join you for a shower. 

Oddly enough, he misses being woken up by the sound of glass shattering. You tend to have a bad habit of breaking your coffee mugs, scurrying around the kitchen with your head on backwards that the mug manages to break free and descend to the kitchen tile. Usually, he’d be halfway downstairs to assist in cleaning up the collateral damage, when he’d hear the first curse come flying from your mouth. Like you were shocked it broke, shocked you dropped it, even though 5 out of 7 days a week he’d have to go out and buy a new mug. And the second curse word would follow shortly after, once he’d land at the bottom of the steps, and that’s when he knows you cut your finger on a coffee mug fragment. 

The kitchen is painfully quiet, and his stomach twists when he opens the cabinet and there’s an excess of coffee mugs. Because you haven’t touched one in weeks. You leave in the morning, and stroll back in past late afternoon.

He doesn’t like secrets. And he wants to know where you jet off to, and where you disappear to for hours, when he knows work is not that long.

“Hi,” you call out, “sorry m’late.”

Your bleak apology means almost nothing to him, as he hears the door close behind you from the confines of the living room. The TV’s, you can hear the dull lull of voices floating down the hall. It’s white noise for him, a way to avoid you because he’s not really sure if he’s in the mood to talk right now. 

“Hey,” you breath, and he can tell by the proximity of your voice that you’re standing right behind him, “did you eat? M’starving.” 

He didn’t eat, he’s starving too. But he feels compelled to clear the air before he sits down for a meal with you.

Clearly, you’re in a different mindset. And you’re all perky and giddy, weird, because you’re this amped up after a day of work. Your hair is done curled differently than usual, makeup all done up, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t raise a couple red flags. 

“What’s wrong,” your pretend pout usually works, though right now it’s not doing much, “writers block?” 

He just shrugs, peering at you over his shoulder as you slide your scarf off your neck and toe off your work shoes. You’re so hard to be mad at, when you’re all cute like this, but he still doesn’t feel right. Something doesn’t feel right.

He doesn’t like secrets. 

“Want me t’make us something?” You hum, settling into the seat right beside his.

He wants to tell you no, he would rather ask you where you’ve been for all these hours. But God, it’s so hard to do that with you fingering a few of his curls and making circles with your thumb atop his hand. 

“Yeah,” he submits, damn it, “s’fine.” 

He frowns while you slither off the couch, over to the kitchen, because he’s such a fucking sucker, especially for you. 

And he’s gotta take a minute before he follows, slowly, building up the courage to just come out and ask like he should’ve done when you initially came in. 

But he feels nervous, now more than ever, as he sees you’ve already poured him a glass of red, the cooking pan already on the stove as you meal prep. 

“Where’ve yeh been all day?” He respires, lip tucked uncomfortably between his teeth.

“Just,” you exhale, “work, like every other day.”

He nods his head, a little curious as to why you felt the need to keep your back to him when you answered his question. And so his hand goes to aimlessly swivel his filled wine glass as you throw something into the pan. 

And he’s about to ask another question, until he’s rudely interrupted by the untimely ringtone of your phone.

“Gimme one second.” You ask, practically sprinting to the living room to get to your phone. 

But it doesn’t keep him from wandering into the hall, loitering just outside the doorway to remain in earshot of your conversation. It feels wrong, but honestly, he doesn’t think he can help himself.

“That’s perfect,” you giggle, “no, he’s got no idea. So we’re fine.”

And it’s than that he’s about ready to explode, his patience withering away and his blood boiling. What doesn’t he know? And he’s completely shell shocked at your boldness, how you were brave enough to take this call with him waiting just in the other room. 

He’s got no problem inserting himself in the room, with an expression unlike one you’ve ever seen, brows furrowed and eyes almost engulfed in flames. He’s livid. 

“Can yeh hang that up please?” He growls, and you shoot him a confused look.

“Harry just give me-”

“(Y/N) jus’ fucking hang up th’phone.”

You deliver a brief, short goodbye before you’re finger falls on the end button, slipping it back into your purse. And you’re not really sure where he gets off taking that kind of tone with you, speaking to you like that, so unprompted and uncalled for. 

“Kinda rude, no?” You hiss, and he merely rolls his eyes.

“Who was tha’?” He snaps, and he earns a brow raise from you.

“Is it really that important?”

“Yeah,” he laughs bitterly, “really is.” 

“No,” you retort, “it’s not.” 

“S’important t’me t’know who y’cheating on me with.” 

Your face falls stiff, and your body soon follows, as the accusation flows so freely fro him. And for a second, you have to repeat what he just said once over, twice over. 

He’s not sorry he said it. Maybe a little, he’s not sure if what he’s so confidently accused you of doing holds any water, has any truth to it. But honestly, he’s relieved he said it. Even though he knows he just took the lid off of an argument that’s seconds away from snowballing.

What’s that look on your face? Did he catch you in a lie? Is he right? He’s having a hard time figuring out, you’re expression isn’t very telling. But it’s because he just sent you into a spiral, your mind is working faster than your mouth, words clawing at one another in the back of your throat but nothing is seeming to make it’s way out. 

Say something. Say anything, for the love of God just fucking speak. 

“You’re such a fucking prick.” You choke out.

Ok, maybe not the best choice of words. There was definitely a better set of words you could have strung together, but it was the first thing that came out and there’s not much you can do now to take it back. 

“Me?” He scoffs, “How’s tha’? When yeh leave without telling me, come home late. Hair’s done, I mean really, (Y/N), when do y’ever wear y’fucking hair like tha’?” 

He knows he’s getting too loud, too cross and he’s feeling himself feel the urge to rip your head off right now. Christ, he can hardly even look at you. 

Though when he does, after you let out a rather brass chuckle, bitter toned and stand offish, he watches you knot your scarf back up. And then your hand reaches for the coat thrown over the sofa, your arms stuffing themselves into the sleeves before you’re frantically doing up the buttons. 

“Guess you’re off than, yeah?” He jeers, a little nervous that you’re readying yourself to bolt, “gonna go call it off with whoever?” 

“Yeah,” you mock, “yeah, m’off Harry. I could just call your mother back and tell her to forget the fucking surprise party we’ve been planning, but I figured it’s worth the drive.” 

Immediately, his stomach turns to a knot, and a ball forms in the center of his throat. As he’s coming to realize that he’s definitely overstepped, probably at unredeemable levels, he’s feeling an in proportional amount of guilt. And he sees how his unwarranted allegation has really thrown you for a loop, as your sweeping your purse off the table and pacing towards the front door. A surprise party, how the fuck was he supposed to know? Of course he wouldn’t have known, it’s a fucking surprise party. 

“Alright, can y’jus’,” he exhales, following you to the front of the house, “hold on, hold on.” 

“Maybe I’ll go stop at my other boyfriends house on my way to your moms.” you hiss, sliding your shoes on before you head out to the car.

[pettyelves]

our Fallback to freedom

With the foresight of a literal blind man, and Eilithe too eager to leave the leagues of relatives behind-- neither of the couple had thought to bring their weapons, a change of clothes, coins, not even a stolen bottle from the party. 

Not that they weren’t already sloshed by the time they landed in Pandaria, nearly an hour’s flight from Dead Sun. When they landed, he had told her they could see what the local inn keeper had-- or they could steal from a local farmer. 

This brought an eruption of chuckling as Eilithe realized that all she had on her was a silver cigarette case and matching light, tucked up under her left breast in her dress. 

It was much to Eilithe’s suspicion that Kurel volunteered himself to be the one that would ..hunt the chicken, leaving her to rip and tie her dress in a way that would make her very expensive bride’s maid gown into an unfashionable romper. They went to work-- and she’d suggested to quickly snap the chicken’s neck. Which he had-- mostly done, though not to perfection as the chickens clucked and flapped enough to rouse the farmer. 

Before she knew what happened, she watched Kurel-- knees to chest, haul-assing from the back of the farm a soon-to-be-dead chicken jerking around in his massive hands. She had to cover her mouth to stifle a laugh. 

Eilithe made her escape without such hang ups-- which, thought she did not say so aloud, meant she thought herself the better thief of the two. They rendezvoused some distance from the farm laughing at the whole thing. 

No one could say they never had fun together. 

"You know I bough' this farm with all the intention of retirin' to it. Tried to give i' away half a dozen times when all thin's didn't go as I'd planned. Come in handy havin' a time or three."

One of which times was some three or four years before, when he had hidden Eilonwy away there.And when the threat had passed, he had taken Eilithe to the house to be reunited with her daughter-- who, at some point not long after had grown into his daughter too.

"Now that I can't picture-- Kur'elnth An'diel, retired to a farm to live out the rest of his days. Old man chopping wood for his hearth, wiping his brow and listening to naught but the shift of goats and wind through rows of corn. No, I can't imagine being where your life might have stopped." Her fingers curled on his hip once more, "Guess my plan was no better-- nor was it anymore realistic."

He would have defended that plan with every breath he had left in him- -and Eilithe might’ve bought it if he wasn’t choking on chuckles while he did it.  "Ou' with i' then. Wha' was your unrealistic retiremen' ?" He asked her with a nudge.

It took her time to work the courage to really answer the question. After all, this conversation would only loop around in a circle they’d been going in for a long time now. 

"For the longest time I wasn't going to retire, I was terribly afflicted with wanderlust as my grandmother calls it. So when I was of age, myself and my ..eventual first mate took jobs in our order that allowed us to leave. And we'd split up for a few centuries, come back together and so on." She paused her digression. "I don't think it was until I first was pregnant, which was.. mmm.. thirty or so years ago now, that the idea of retiring crossed my mind. And that unrealistic retirement was being someone's wife, which I think is why Flithune and I ended up parting and never joining again. A mother, with a house-- somewhere back near my home village. Doing as my mother did before everything." She looked off at nothing, recollecting, "Then I was voted into leadership and that retirement got further, then closer at other times, then further again."

"Wife is jus' a title.  Like... Queen an' Criminal." He licked his lips. "While you are far from retired. You are a mother. With far more than a house an' while Dead Sun ain't necessarily your home village. It is yours. I think you've been connin' us all livin' retiremen' for a' leas' a decade."

"Never wanted to lead the village," she said with a chuckle-- it was a longing for simplicity and freedom that she did not possess. At the risk of breaking down to arguing, she followed with a soft retort. 

"A Queen, an Arbiter-- will, so long as she holds the title be looked to for answers, for protection, for counsel-- and she will always be held, a hand higher and admired for her title. It is the same way, a Captain-- if he is trusted, if he makes his men richer,  will always sit in the cabin-- he will always be looked to for the next move, he will always be, in part, feared as much as he is respected." She wet her lips, "A wife is much the same-- regarded as above all lovers, concubines, whatevers that came before her. She is given the title of wife because, in a bay of choices, she was chosen. And to call her wife means that for her husband, there can be no other. And for her? There is no other. She is his end-all, as he is hers."

He never answered with anything-- which meant that he likely understood, now, why his name beside hers made so much a difference to her. They didn’t linger long in that quiet before they were walking up the steps and into the Museum of Dust and Kurel An’Diel’s Shit™

It was simple, as he’d planned his retirement to be. No magical lighting, no running water, and a wood burning stove. Everything was covered in dust as it had been three years since anyone had set foot inside.  

A coat of arms, photographs, boxes and a books--his treasures. Among them was a golden chastity belt, enchanted-- and Eilithe learned some very long time ago that Kurel had earned the belt by way of marrying the woman who’d been locked away it in. Despite the fact that the woman symbolized the tradition Eilithe was so cross with, she found the story hilarious and snorted when she saw the prize mounted on the wall. She snorted more he he suggested they ought replicate the design and sell them to Noble Lords who’d protect their daughters from ending up in Eilithe’s brothel, or in the arms of men like Kurel. 

"Fucking men like you is good for a woman," she said, leaning into him more. "Maybe not the first time--then again, a rough first time does wonders for durability too." She cleared her throat, "Either or, really-- effect is the same. She learns a strong man from a weak one with men like you."

“Men like me.” He invited her to explain the meaning without so much as uttering more than those three words. 

"Men like you" she repeated, reaching to grab his free hand with a free hand while the other held her propped up. "Men with rough hands," she said, drawing his palm to her lips-- where she kissed, with soft lips, each of his fingers before she guided the hand from her cheek, down her long neck, to be abandoned to its own desire to travel her form. "Hands that chop wood, and pull ropes. Hands that swing swords with force enough to strike sparks against steel of their enemies. Hands that guide, or punish, or please. Hands which can be gentle on the small of woman's back, as easily as they can squeeze the last breath from a grown man.Dangerous men, with ambition. Hard men, immovable and unconquerable." 

His hand always flinched on her throat, and he listened with distinct attention before he stole a kiss and made suggestion that the broken vanity in their home ought be included in a museum alongside the chastity belt with a sign that read  Keep Off. Extremely Unstable. Fuck At Your Own Risk. And Eilithe returned that she would make use of their vanity until it was broken into pieces, at which time she said: “I'll frame the pieces and hang it in my madame's office with a plaque that reads None fuck harder than An'Diels."

When no wall nor surface did not have a swipe of one of their hands, on imprint of their backs in the dusted surface-- when they had managed to crack the vanity in the lofted bedroom the same as they had the one at home. Only then did she find a few moment’s sleep. 

At dawn, her hands held a single on of his, tracing every line with delicacy she’d not shown in the hours before. When he stirred his fingers curled with he’s passing over each digit on her left hand until he could slide a thumb over the scarab beetle between her first and second knuckle.

“This hasn't been here." He said quietly.

“No, it hasn’t.” 

There came silent resignation there, over the name An’Diel. It was not an outright victory, nor was Eilithe likely any closer to hearing a quiet confirmation for her to take what she wanted. But it was confirmation.

 This was not going away for him. 

They spent the rest of the day distracting one another. From cooking and cleaning up their fallback, from worries that were only a stretch across the ocean, and from designs that there was anything more in the world than the two of them.

[ @kurel-andiel @deadsunharbor ]

[boy-banders-writings]

Habits -- Youngbin

Group: SF9 Member: Youngbin. aka leader of SF9 aka SF9′s dad. Genre: Fluffy fluff with some tension; non!idol Youngbin with some college!AU thrown in and a sprinkle of best friend!Inseong Request: Nope, a little drabble *Requests are Open & I’m back in bidnes* Length: Short|medium|long|idk man

Because he has these habits that will be the death of you.

Youngbin was an enigma. He was alluring and fascinating and just oh-so-lovely. He was both incredible and the slightest bit annoying. He was good at almost everything he laid his hands on. He was like an ethereal jack of all trades. He constantly left you in awe of just what he was capable of. You were lowkey incredibly thankful you got to know him over the last few years after meeting him through Inseong, who was your high school best friend.

He was good at most sports and always made you work hard to try and beat him. He was an incredible dancer and while you weren’t the most coordinated he always danced with you. You’d never admit to him or Inseong that that’s what ignited the fire in your heart that burned for Youngbin. He was also very studious and if he wasn’t in the apartment he shared with Inseong or in the dance studio on campus, he was in the library. Youngbin was incredible in many ways, all of which you could go on and on about for hours. Poor Inseong experienced it once when you were drunk, you did not drink alone with him ever again.

The one other thing about Youngbin that drove you up the wall and left you in awe was his caring nature. In your eyes Youngbin was an actual angel. He always travelled with at least two extra jackets or hoodies in his car when you hung out with him and Inseong. He always made sure you got home after a bar crawl, even if he had a few drinks and had to walk you back to your apartment. He would text you throughout the week to remind you to eat when finals got close and made sure to send you little encouragement texts when you seemed down. The group chat you had with him and Inseong was full of very parental like things, reminding both of you of meals and to rest. The most shocking text he’s ever sent is he reminded you to go buy some “lady products” since your time of the month was just around the corner. You didn’t face him for three days after that because he knew you that well. Since then Inseong has been trying to get you two together because obviously Youngbin cares a lot about you.

Today had been one of his latest attempts. Friday night pizza at the local parlor to celebrate surviving another week of university, his treat. That was enough incentive for you both to clear your schedules to meet for dinner.

However you weren’t prepared for the torture your poor heart would endure. Youngbin had had a good week. He went on to tell you two more about his routines that were getting praised and how he was going to have a spot in the semester Arts showcase, which was a huge deal. He had aced both exams he had earlier that week and his group for one of his classes had finished thier project a week early and already submitted it.

When Youngbin got excited and talked a lot he had the habit of biting and licking his lips more than usual. Which the habit already left you distracted. You had been wanting to kiss Youngbin for the last two years, almost since you first met him. Meaning anytime he did anything to bring your attention to his lips you pretty much died. And his lips were more than kissable, they looked soft and to die for.

“Are you listening (Y/N)?” Youngbin teased, snapping you out of your trace.

“Of course. Professor Kim is considering you to close the showcase out. That’s amazing, congrats.” You smiled at him, feeling at ease when his cheeks turned pink.

“Yea that’s really cool man!” Inseong chimed in. “Who else is she considering?”

“Just a few other performers, there’s four total up for the ending spot. Two are instrumentalists and the other is another dancer. All incredible.” Youngbin’s hands twisted together.

“Hey, whether or not you get the spot being considered is huge. And you’ll get to show off all your hard work regardless.” Your hand rested on his, stilling their movement, before his eyes shot up to yours.

“Exactly.” Inseong chimed in again, watching the interaction with a smug expression. “And we’ll be there, front row, to show our support.”

“Yes! I’ve already bought tickets!” You beamed, “So you can’t say no.”

“Thanks.” Youngbin looked down at your hand on his for a moment. “Seriously, you two are the most supportive people in my lives.” He bit his lip.

You were about to say something when the waiter brought your pizza out and Youngbin slowly pulled his hands away from yours. He always got shy when you and Inseong praised him so much. You looked up to see Inseong giving you his infamous, ‘do something’ look. You looked over at Youngbin to see him already plating pizza. He handed the first plate to you before getting Inseong and himself some. You took the plate from him and your fingers touched. Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest from the warm feeling that started from the place of contact. You watched as Youngbin’s tongue quickly darted out to wet his lips before he tore his eyes from yours.

He was trying to kill you.

Inseong started the conversation up again, asking about plans for the rest of the night and if you wanted to come back with them to watch a movie or something.

“I’d love to, really, but I have a paper due Monday I haven’t even started on.” You giggled uneasily, watching them both give you disapproving looks. “It’s only 3-5 pages and I have the topic picked out, no need for the scowls.”

“We shouldn’t stay out too late then.” Youngbin said after he swallowed a mouthful of pizza. “You lose motivation after midnight.”

“Way to call me out.” You grabbed your shirt over your heart. “I’m hurt.”

“He’s right.” Inseong stuck his nose up a little. “No one knows you better than Youngbin.”

“Of course I know a lot about the people I care about.” Youngbin countered as if it was no big deal.

“Right.” Inseong looked skeptically at his friend. “I’m gonna get a refill, you two need anything?”

“Please.” You held your nearly empty glass out for him.

“I’m good.” Youngbin nodded as Inseong took your cup and walked away.

“Ah, I have something to show you!” You rushed to pull your phone from your little purse as you remember this cool dance video you saw on instagram.

You continued to eat your second slice of pizza as your searched for the clip again. Painfully unaware of the way Youngbin was watching you, and admiring the way the light from your phone lit up your face in the dim parlor. When you had found it you grinned to yourself before jerking your head up. Your eyes locked with his. Time stood still, this hadn’t happened before. It never felt this intense before. Your gaze moved to his mouth again when he licked his lips again. The video forgotten for a moment as the two of you had a silent moment.

“You uh,” Youngbin started as he scooted forward on his chair. “You have -- hold still.” His hand moved from his side and his thumb rested on the corner of your lips. His forefinger curled under your chin as he, almost teasingly slow, wiped the bit of pizza sauce at the corner of your lip. “There, even a little sauce can’t ruin your beauty.” He mumbled to himself as he rubbed his thumb onto his napkin.

“Th-thanks.” You nodded and swallowed the lump in your throat. “I found the video.”

In the next second it was all back to normal. Youngbin scoot forward and pushed the pizza to the side to get a better look at your phone. Inseong sat back down by the time the video ended, he was the only one aware of how red your face had gotten. He gave you a suspicious look but you jus shook your head, if he wanted to know you could tell him later.

You finished the pizza with their help rather quickly and since you had a paper to write, as did Inseong but he didn’t announce it, the bill was paid and the three of you left the restaurant. Since it was so close to summer break the soft spring breeze was welcoming and refreshing. You walked between your best friend and crush with a light heart, despite of how erratically it was beating just twenty minutes ago. It was just late enough that the sun had started to set so the view for your walk home was breathtaking. Without overthinking you looped your arms with both guys and walked happily.

“Inseong you can head straight back, I’ll walk (Y/N) home.” Youngbin break the comfortable silence as you came to the fork in your path, they stayed in the complex two blocks to the right and you stayed in the complex four blocks to the left.

“Alright, I’ll see you when you get back man.” Inseong winked at you as he hugged you. “Good luck with your paper, if you’re done by tomorrow night, movie at our place.”

“Yea, yea. Challenge accepted.” You smiled at him, not realizing the double meaning to it.

“I expect to hear all about it.” Inseong replied easily before he patted Youngbin on the shoulder and went right.

“Thanks for walking me back.” You said once you and Youngbin had started down the first block.

“I’d be worried till you texted me you where home anyway, so it saves me the stress.” Youngbin admitted with a quick lip bite as he looked anywhere but you.

You hummed in response as you looked away, the urge to kiss him suddenly all you could think about. You completed the second block by the time the double meaning to your last conversation with Inseong clicked in your mind. You stole a quick glance at Youngbin to see him already looking at you. Your eyes flew to the bench far off in the distance before you took a deep breath.

“I like you, Binnie.”

“I like you, (Y/N).”

Both of you froze. Your head swiveled to Youngbin and he gawked at you.

“Really?” You squeaked.

“Yea.” Youngbin nodded, bottom lip between his teeth again.

“I’ve been waiting to hear you say--”

Youngbin cupped your cheeks and kissed you. It was all you could have ever imagined it to be and more. It ended as quickly as it started and his eyes were wide.

“Sorry, I just, I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.”

You kissed him then and returned the favor. There was a moment where you felt like your heart was going to burst before you pulled away from him. This had been the focal point of your dreams for months, you’d been secretly so in love with one of your best friends for so long it didn’t feel real.

“What a development.” Your head snapped to the left to see Inseong peeking from behind a tree. “Finally. I’m done being the inconspicuous middle man. Have a nice night, I’m locking you out Youngbin.” And he was gone.

“So.” Youngbin laughed as you hid your face in his shoulder. “Can I stay the night.”

“Of course.” You nodded and started walking again but with Youngbin’s hand in yours.

“You still have to work on your paper though.” He teased only to get a groan from you.

“I know.” You laughed after a moment as you snuggled into Youngbin, ready to talk about this later.

[thedistantstorm]

Fever

Steelponcho + Zavala x Hawthorne + The Farm + Sick!Suraya + Concerned!Zavala + ALL THE FEELINGS + Cayde bailing because poker + Continues from First Aid 

-----+++++-----

She's been feeling woozy for a few days now. It's nothing she hasn't dealt with before; It's just a cold. She keeps away from everyone as best she can, tries to stay hydrated, and attempts to wait it out.

The weather has been wet and cold, raining non stop. Her poncho is waterproof enough, but it's not a tarp - despite what Cayde says. She coughs into the crook of her elbow. Her head feels like it's full of cotton, and her throat is sore and scratchy. But, the comms pick up a report of Fallen in the vicinity, and they're stretched pretty thin, so it looks like she's got work to do.

It takes most of the day to track down the group of dregs in the surrounding forest. The rain provided decent cover for both friend and foe, thundering down without pause. She eventually got the lot of them, miles away from the Farm but still wholly threatening. The walk back was the hard part. Her addled brain was having a hard time determining if it were hot or cold, and if she turned her head too quick, she felt like the ground was coming up to greet her.

A couple times, she leans against a tree for a minute, just one, to gather her bearings. It makes no sense to her how she returns after dark.

-----+++++-----

He absolutely won't admit that he's worried. Cayde his giving him The Look™ and has waggled his eyes suspiciously at least four times since they've decided to sit at the fire pit on the southernmost edge of the Farm. He keeps looking in the direction of the trees, listening intently, just in case anyone needs help.

Not because Suraya Hawthorne left this morning on patrol and has not A) checked in, or B) returned, and it has been nearly ten hours.

“She can take care of herself, Zavala,” Cayde says precisely when Zavala suspects his brows knit together with yet more worry. “Relax.”

He covers his right arm with his left hand, feels for the healed injury there. The scar is soft and a shade of pale blue that blends in with his skin. He likes the reminder, even if he isn't thrilled that he has the scar in the first place. She insists it will fade out of existence, anyway, with time.

There's a hoarse, chest-rattling wheeze from the west, and the sound of footsteps come from one of the beaten paths. Whomever it is, they are stumbling. He sees the glint of a familiar barrel as Suraya Hawthorne drops her rifle and pack indiscriminately on the ground in the rain and sways toward the fire. The fire pit is sheltered enough by the trees that it's relatively dry.

“Heeeey, guys,” She slurs and Cayde sniggers, shaking his head.

“You have one too many, Poncho? I thought you were out on patrol.”

To Cayde's right, Zavala is fighting the tight feeling in his gut that screams something is wrong.

She laughs, and it's a weird sound, like she finds Cayde far funnier than he has any right to be. Then, abruptly, she looks around, like she's just woke up from a crazy dream.

“Is…” She looks unsure, blinking slowly as she looks toward the fire, “it hot or is it just me?”

Zavala stands, meaning to approach her where she is just under the canopy of trees.

“Hawthorne, you have been in the elements all day. Are you alright?”

There’s a bit of a delay, but she makes a sound between a scoff and blowing a raspberry. Cayde’s eyebrow plates creep up towards his horn at an alarming rate. “Yeahhh, 'm fiiiine,” She waves a hand. “Jus’ hot.” There's another shuffle forward, less productive, and then another cough.

And oh, that cough. It makes his chest hurt just hearing it. “Hawthorne?”

Her head whips in his direction and he sees her eyes clear for the slightest of seconds... right before they roll back into her head and her body crumples.

Lightning fast reflexes allow him to catch her before she lands in the wet grass. Her lashes flicker and her eyes try to open again, but to no avail. He can feel the heat rolling off of her in waves, through the non-metal parts of his gear. It seems like a bad sign, considering she's wearing rain-soaked clothing that should be chilled like the air around them.

“Cayde,” The Titan hisses, “Fetch someone to evaluate her, now.”

The Exo perks up at the order, running toward the tent village that makes up the majority of the Farm like his life depends on it. The Awoken shifts her weight and tucks his left arm under her knees so he can carry her inside where it is warm and dry.

He realizes when he gets her inside the otherwise unoccupied farmhouse that he has to get her out of her wet clothing. Despite priding himself on cool professionalism, something about propping her body against his while he attempts to disrobe her makes him sweat. He bites his lip with no one coherent around to see it, and endures. First the poncho, which falls to the floor with a wet squelch, then he lays her back on the bed and attempts to remove wet socks and boots. She begins to stir, and he hopes he can get her awake enough to prevent him from having to complete this task for her.

Above him, it's like someone flipped the lights on in her brain, and Zavala barely dodges her foot as she tries to kick him. He recoils and rises to his full height, regarding her warily.

“Hawthorne, you are ill,” He says, palms low and out in a measure like he's trying to tell a wild animal not to bite. “You need to get out of those wet clothes.”

She looks down and blinks several times. The fog in her brain temporarily recedes. “I - wait, what're you doing here? How did I get back?”

His eyes widen. Without asking for her permission, he puts his hand against her forehead, humming a concerned note at just how hot her forehead is. He doesn't comment on the fact that her eyes slip closed in blissful relief when he does. “How long have you been sick?”

“Mmm…” She flops her hand around. “Couple days. But I'm fine. Totally okay.”

Instead of answering, he offers her a hand to pull herself upright, and she does so teetering precariously.  He quirks a brow at her and she frowns.

“If you were really okay,” He says when she cants forward, catching her with a hand on each of her deltoids, “You wouldn't have fainted.” The words are quiet and full of mirth, and he thinks she might be out again until she looks up at him, blushing spectacularly, since she was absolutely not that red a minute ago.

“Don't tell me I fainted into your arms like some damsel in distress,” She says meekly. Her eyes are glossy and fever-touched, but there's something else in them, too. Something trusting. “It's just a cold.”

The slightest upturn of his lips has her scowling. He chuckles, “Despite how Cayde would tell it, you fainted without discretion for who would catch you, if anyone. Your dignity is still intact.” His eyes flick up to hers, and she sees a playful streak in them that she wants to hold onto, the voice of reason telling her no, not to instigate the one falling prey to the fever. “I will defend your honor, milady,” Zavala kneels, one hand over his heart like some knight (she wonders if are they glorified Titans or if it’s the other way around) and she shorts, trying not to giggle. “But Cayde, sadly…”

“Y’know, for a miserable bastard, that smile of yours is kind of charming. Tell anyone I said that,” She coughs, “And I’ll tell them I was delirious. Because I’m pretty sure I am if I think your mug is somethin’ special.” She shivers and the moment breaks, his concern winning out over banter.

Zavala tuts, and his fingers reach for the hem of her shirt. “Arms up,” He whispers. She is too tired to argue and complies. He peels the wet garment from her. She shivers, goosebumps dotting down bronze arms. He rubs them gently once her shirt joins her poncho on the floor.

Suraya manages to get the belt and buttons of her pants undone, without much difficulty, while Zavala returns to untying her boots. He hooks two fingers into her belt loops and tugs and literally looks anywhere but at her because he is still flesh and bone and she is wild and free and hips and thighs and Traveler take him, he is doomed.

Only one flimsy pair of black underwear and a brutally abused chest plate remain. The effort is having an effect on her though, and she knows it. “There should be clothes in that trunk,” She says, between coughing fits. “Just grab whatever.”

It only takes him a second to locate the trunk in the corner with a paltry collection of clothes belonging to the woman. He grabs the first pair of underwear and shirt he sees, not wanting to be accused of being some pervert snooping around in her things.

She takes the underwear first, and Zavala hastily retreats to the hallway before her sickness-addled brain decides she should strip bare in front of him, which, it seems, she was ready to do. Not that there's much privacy in this wayward camp, or it's anything he hasn't seen before, but something about this is different and he really cannot afford to think on why that is right this second.

Cayde’s voice crackles over the local comms, and the Commander is immediately thankful for the choice he's made. He almost blushes at the thought of the Hunter catching them in such a compromising state.

“Sorry to put you in such a bind, amigo,” Cayde calls, “Buuuut, there’s a bit of an emergency situation over here at the triage station. Some lady is giving birth. Sounds horrible. But, all the medics are occupied. They said to make sure she rests and give her a fever reducer. And then, y’know, call them if she can’t breathe or something. Poncho should be totally fine, she’s just overdoing it - sound like anyone else we know? Ring any bells? Ah well. Have fun fussin’ over her. I’m definitely going to go work on Vanguard Stuff and definitely not join the poker tournament happening in the barn. Smooches!”

The connection cuts before Zavala can get a word in edgewise, and he grumbles under his breath. At least if Ikora were here, she’d have actual assistance. He doesn’t even know what her temperature is. Certainly there’s some matrix for medication and time or something, he feels like he can remember that from early on in the City Age, when the refugees were coming in…

“Uh, Zavala?”

The tentative tone shakes him from his thoughts, and he returns to her room. “Hawthorne, Cayde said-” All the air leaves his lungs as if she’d punched him in the gut. She’s laying on the bed, panting with exertion from trying to undo the corset style ties that cinch her chest guard onto her frame.

She squirms. He does his damnedest to keep his eyes on her face and not on the expanse of toned muscle and creamy skin between panties and the guard, or the heaving of her chest. If he’s being honest, the flush on her cheeks that travels down to - nope, not a safe topic either.

“Okay. I know I’m the worst,” She all but moans in discomfort, “But I started undoing it and I knotted it somehow this morning because I was too sick to give a shit and now I don’t have the energy to figure it out, and I can’t tie it back up without stabbing myself in the side with one of the broken pieces.” She points out the slivers of boning that are jabbing her in the side along her ribcage. It very obviously needs replacing. Her eyes are pleading. “Help.”

That wistful not-smile is back and he shakes his head very minutely. “Remember how you called me the mess?”

She sighed. “I’m the mess. Is that what you want to hear?”

“It does help,” He replies, taking the two steps necessary to bring him beside the bed. “I am just unlacing the ties?”

“Yeah.” She shifts and sits up, to give him room to work with. He gulps silently as he sees the valley between her breasts come into view. She did say she was able to loosen it somewhat, he recalls as he forces himself to look away.

“This isn’t some rouse to seduce me, is it?” He asks, sinking onto the mattress behind her and evaluating the tangle of strap and ties.

“Yes. I got myself sick so I could throw myself at you,” She drawls sarcastically as he works out the knot. “Seriously though. If I was trying to seduce you, don’t you think I’d be telling you to call me Suraya instead of Hawthorne? Make it a little more personal?”

“True,” He concedes, his breath on her neck. With the knot free, the main closure gapes a little, and his fingers graze her side as he unfurls the cording. Light, is her skin soft. “But I think it’s working, Suraya.”

He knows he doesn’t imagine her gasp.

One hand goes to the center of her chest, holding the armor in place to prevent any accidental exposure, and she rolls over to her knees to look at him. “Zavala,” She warns.

He closes his eyes and berates himself. Idiot, he thinks to himself. “Forgive me,” He says. “I should not have-”

Her thumb grazes his lip. It’s so gentle he can’t help but press his lips into the caress, turn his head into her open palm. Her chest tightens from something that isn’t a cough she’s holding back.

“We can’t,” She tells him, firmly, pulling away. She knows how it looks, in her underwear, practically splayed out in front of him. Sick or not. Neither of them can afford this weakness, and she knows it. They are the very antithesis of each other. “This can’t happen. I... I’m sorry.”

“No apology necessary, Hawthorne,” He says, face blanker than she’d ever seen. It hurts more than she expected it to. “You require rest to get well. I will send someone to bring you a fever reducer and leave you to it.”

“Zavala, I-”

He gets up immediately, heading for the door. A white-blue hand clenches over the trim of the door frame, and he turns like he wants to say something different, maybe even argue with her, but he only sighs.

“Feel better.”

[topimagines]

Inferno

Gluttony

Summary:  Where do people go when they die? Well, for the least lucky people in the world, hell is waiting. But what happens when these people do go to hell? And how did you end up there?    

Warnings: I actually dunno if there are any warnings? torture by mud? obviously death bc its hell, but not really much

Authors note: Shout out to my friend carol for helping me think of ways to add angst. She doesn’t have a Tumblr but I'd totally tag her. She's the best

Part 1// Part 2// Part 3// Part 4// Part 5// Part 6// Part 7//

"They don’t care about anyone walking through here, they just want to continue their game of chess," Tyler said, noticing you looking at the group of occupied tables, "admittedly, the most boring circle unless you like chess."  

"I never learned how," you said absentmindedly, "Tom didn’t either. We were gonna learn eventually."  

"I never cared for it."  

Tyler forgot there was only one bed in the room, and offered to sleep on the small red couch in the corner, not wanting to pressure you into anything you were uncomfortable with.  

You had just met two days ago, after all.

However, Tyler felt as if he’d known you for years, and he probably had, considering how time passes on earth compared to hell. It was a dice roll how much time would pass after one day in hell, one day could be five minutes, or three months.  

You forced him to sleep on the bed with you, insisting that it was alright and that you trusted him.  

That’s a first, was all he could think while he laid under the blanket next to you. You had fallen asleep long before Tyler, who stayed up later than usual, thinking about the day ahead and behind you guys. You were going through the third circle, Gluttony, tomorrow. We're gonna need umbrellas.

-

You woke up feeling more tired than you did when you fell asleep, another night full of nightmares that made you wish you could just die all over again and not come to this place. Tyler was up before you, showered and changing into the same outfit he wore the day before, but cleaner. He wasn’t lying when he said he had stayed there before, multiple versions of the same exact outfit were in the closet.  

"You can change into the clothes I laid out in the bathroom," he said to you. He was drying his hair with a pastel pink towel, only wearing a simple white t-shirt and his black pants unbuckled. He was stood in front of the body length mirror at the back, right-hand corner of the room when you slipped into the bathroom.  

The mirror over the sink was heart shaped and the sink was white porcelain. You noticed a fresh toothbrush sat out for you, still in its wrapping, and a pastel pink towel, the same one as Tyler was using, was laid out neatly next to it. The outfit laid out for you was different than what you thought, a nice black jacket, a white t-shirt, black leggings, and rain boots. He even included a fresh pair of underwear, a tank top for some breast support, and socks for your boots. They looked warm.  

You slowly stripped down before getting into the shower, pulling the magenta shower curtain back, you stepped in. There was a small cubby hole with a neatly folded wash cloth and a fresh bar of soap waiting. To control the water, were two knobs, one for the hot water and one for the cold water. They were both adorned with small love hearts, red and blue, helping differentiate the two knobs. You adjusted the temperature, finding the perfect one for your body, before taking the pink washcloth and lathering the soap on it before thoroughly washing yourself with it.

The lukewarm water cascaded down your body to wash the soap off, and after all the soap wash off, you stood still. The water was soothing, compared to everything you just went through.  

"What're we gonna do if something happens to one of us?" You asked Tom, the day after he asked you to move in with him. You were currently sat on the couch in your studio apartment between Tom's legs.  Your back was against his firm chest, scrolling through your phone as he watched television.  

"Well, I hope nothing does happen," he answered, running his hand soothingly up and down your right arm, "I love you, and nothing will happen to us."  

"I love you too," you sighed, turning your head and puckering your lips expectantly. Tom laughed and kissed you lightly on the lips before going back to watching the TV show.

You were dried off before you knew it, and dressed in the monochromatic outfit that was left for you. When you were finally finished getting ready, having brushed your teeth, and brushed your hair out, you stepped out of the bathroom.  

Tyler was sat with his feet up on the red couch, waiting patiently for you to be done getting ready. As soon as you made yourself known, he stood up and fixed his clothes before leading you toward the door wordlessly.

"Before we get outside, why did I have to leave my shoes?" You asked, looking down at the rain boots you now wore instead of your vans.  

"Gluttony, the ring of rain and sludge," he answered. He handed you an umbrella, that you didn’t know he was holding, and led you out of the bright pink halls of Ashley's sex hotel, "Admittedly, it's not my favourite ring of all time, but it's not as bad as some rings. We’re gonna have a blast.”  

You internally groaned and followed him silently. You had to admit, you never liked rain and mud when you were alive. It was good for the ecosystem, and led you to amazing lazy days with Tom, when he was home, but you never enjoyed running around and getting dirty for no other reason than the sake of rain.  

Tyler grabbed hold of your hand and you decided to pay no mind to it, you were too busy wanting your fiancé.  

“It’s raining,” you said to the picture if Tom on your computer screen, “and you’re not here to cuddle with.”  

“I know babe, but two more days before press tour is over an’ then we can cuddle all we wan’,” he answered. You saw a mischievous glint in his eyes, but before you could ask him what he was up to, there was a knock on the front door of your studio apartment, “someone at the door, love?”  

“I’m not expectin’ anyone,” you said, “should I answer it?”

“I dunno, maybe you should jus' in case,” he said, “I’ll let you go s’you can answer it. Love you.” Before you could reply his face was replaced by the Skype home page and the person knocked again. You groaned and rolled off of your leather couch to answer the persistent person on the other side. You opened it slowly and was greeted by the smiling face of your, at the time, boyfriend.  

“Tom!” you exclaimed, jumping into his outstretched arms and wrapping your legs around his waist, “I thought you had two more days?”  

“I lied so I could surprise you,” he said before burying his face in your neck, letting out a muffled, “I missed you so much.” You felt wetness growing on your neck and realized he was crying, but you didn’t care because you were going to cry too.  

“I missed you, too.”  

-

Tyler had led you out of Lust, and before you knew it, the sky had darkened with clouds. The red sun was no longer visible behind the dark gray puffs in the sky. There was a solid hundred yards before you saw the rain dumping out of the sky with so much force, you would think it was a hurricane.  

“Might wanna open your umbrella now,” Tyler said, “we have to walk through all that.” He pointed to the storm clouds and whatever was ahead of them. You assumed he had another friend somewhere in this ring based on how many he seemed to have already. Although, he never did mention taking a detour for sleep and food. You complied and opened the pink umbrella. Not surprising, you thought. Tyler already had his open, it was a dark red colour that matched the couch from your room earlier that day.  

You didn’t notice the mud that had you sinking slightly into the ground until you were closer to the rain. You had sunk at least an inch into the ground once you'd felt the rain hitting the top of your umbrella with a soft pitter patter.  

"You're gonna have to hold tight to me because the damned sink into the mud," Tyler explained, "I honestly don’t know how it works, but when a demon nabs a human from the mud, they can stand with no problem, so just keep close to me and you won't get covered in mud."  

"Nice to know," you muttered bitterly, lifting your feet from the slop on the ground. It didn’t look pleasant, and smelled worse. Needless to say, you felt for the people stuck sinking in the substance.  

You looped your arm with Tyler's and let him lead you farther into the circle of rain and disgusting, smelly sludge.  

-

You didn’t pay much attention to how long you and Tyler were walking, but you knew you had to be almost out of that rain. You tried to just focus on the semi-trail ahead of you, although it was just a slushy gravel path that even Tyler's boots sunk through, but you couldn’t help but look at how the damned souls were tortured there. From the looks of it, a person was to hold an umbrella over their demonic captures as they play chess with one another. Meanwhile, the person sunk lower and lower into the ground until they could no longer hold the umbrella over the demon, and when that happened, the demon took the person by the hand and pulled them out to restart the continuous process.  

"They don’t care about anyone walking through here, they just want to continue their game of chess," Tyler said, noticing you looking at the group of occupied tables, "admittedly, the most boring circle unless you like chess."  

"I never learned how," you said absentmindedly, "Tom didn’t either. We were gonna learn eventually."  

"I never cared for it."  

You and Tyler continued walking in silence, arms looped.  

-

A few hours later, the rain was letting up. You glance over at Tyler, who hadn't talked since he first explained the chess games. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, but it was odd. Yesterday you two talked like you had known each other for years, but you didn’t mind. You saw him staring at you with his red eyes filled with something you didn’t quite recognize. You smiled his way, and he quickly looked away.  

"Um, we're about to come up on a camp, if you want to take a break," He said after clearing his throat. He was very obviously flustered, but you didn’t draw attention to it. That would embarrass him more.  

"Yeah, I could use some sleep and food," you answered. He finally looked back at you and met your eyes. He flashed you the smallest smile, someone inobservant would miss it, but you saw it and you felt butterflies in your stomach before returning it.  

Then, you slipped in the mud, out of Tyler's grasp.

[icecubelotr44]

Tucked In (Whumptober/Inktober Day 31)

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Wow, I didn’t think I’d actually get through all of these, but here we are at the end of the month and there’s been plenty of whump and angst to go around.  Here’s one last piece to round out the set.

As always, for the inktober whump prompts HERE.  Thanks @whumpreads! @killian-whump, @ladyciaramiggles, @cocohook38, @nothingimpossibleonlyimprobable, @xhookswenchx, @gusenitsaa, @pirate-owl All prompts: HERE Previous Days: Knees | Bag | Cell | Noose | Explosion | Bone | Guilt | Scar | Self-inflicted | Gunpoint | Sacrifice | Starvation | Sleep-deprivation | Brainwashing | Drugged | Sensory | Withdrawal | Flashback | Panic | Threats | Thrown | Fever | Grief | Drowning | Gagged | Outnumbered | Surrender | Shower | Wounds | Cry

Continuation of Gagged

Killian should be in a hospital.

That was the one thought running rampant through Emma’s mind as she lowered him into the backseat of the Bug, trying to ignore the grunts and bitten-off moans every time he moved.  Hades had done a number on him in that warehouse.  His face was bloody and bruised, one eye swollen completely shut, and Emma didn’t want to think about what the rest of him looked like.

He should be in the back of an ambulance with painkillers and antibiotics and an oxygen mask to muffle the sounds of his hurt that tore through her.

She wasn’t supposed to fall in love with him.

It had been just another case.  One that would put her name on the map, so to speak, but still just another case.  He was just another detective, an anonymous source she was supposed to use for information and then send back to his own career.

She wasn’t supposed to fall in love.

But she had.  He’d tunneled under her walls or scaled them or maybe just blown them all to Hell and crawled into the rubble next to her.

So now what was she supposed to do?

Who could she trust?

Who would trust her?

Internal Affairs wasn’t a glorious position.  She was reviled in most precincts and outright scorned nearly everywhere she went within the boundaries of her jurisdiction.  But someone needed to call men like Gold and Hades to task and she was good at what she did.

If it meant she had very few people she could call friend, then that was just a side effect of the job, wasn’t it?

She hadn’t minded.  Not until now.

Now, when Jones needed to be in the back of an ambulance and she couldn’t risk it - the call over the radio that she’d nearly made on instinct had almost signed his death warrant as it was.  If Hades got wind of where Killian was, unprotected and vulnerable, it would be the end of him.

Him, and her case, but Emma was rapidly figuring out how little the second one mattered to her in light of the threat to the first.

So here she was, driving across town and out of the bustle of the city limits to an old, beat up cabin that Jones had told her about once.  The coordinates (seriously, Jones, there’s not even an address?) input into her GPS told her she had nearly an hour to figure out who to call for help and supplies.

And help.

God, she needed help.

Killian needed help.

He was nearly silent in the back, crammed onto the too-small seat she’d never thought too much about before.  His knees were bent up to his chest, just within reach of her hand if she wanted to touch him.  Emma probably should have gotten him into the front seat, at least so he could stretch out, but he’d bitten out “in the back” when she’d opened the door and she’d nearly lost her grip on him when Killian had tried to grab the seat lever.

So the backseat - and the illusion of hiding from prying eyes - it was.

Emma hit a frost heave in the road and Killian whined pitifully, letting Emma know he was still somewhat awake in the back seat and sending her hand backwards to soothe over his knee cap without conscious thought.

“Sorry!  I’m sorry, I couldn’t avoid it!” she begged his forgiveness, her hand tracing frantic circles over the torn denim.  His skin underneath was clammy.

“‘Sok,” Killian grunted somewhat unintelligibly, his fingers tangling in hers.  “Jus’ keep goin’.”

Emma’s fingers tightened around his and refused to let go.

Even twenty minutes later when his went completely limp, the backseat now silent save for his even breathing.

Thank God, she thought as she turned off the main road at the GPS-lady’s insistence.

The road wasn’t paved.

Ten minutes - and Emma was sure, part of her engine lost to the ‘road’ - later, and the GPS chimed her arrival.

They were in the Goddamned middle of nowhere and there wasn’t anything resembling a cabin in sight.

“What the hell, Jones?” she muttered, cutting what was left of the engine and unfolding herself from the driver’s seat.

The road didn’t continue, and she was surrounded by trees.

But she smelled smoke.

Hoping beyond hope that there was someone who could help her, Emma locked Killian in the car and followed her nose.

Through the trees and up a hill and Emma was just about to turn around and curse Jones out and then drive him to a hospital and hope that an alias would be enough to keep him safe.  Then she saw it.

The tiny little cabin with smoke coming out of the chimney and a wrap-around porch and a snowmobile parked outside.  There was an honest-to-God lumberjack to the left of the porch, flannel shirt stretching across his shoulders as he split wood.

If there wasn’t the idiot bleeding out in her back seat (stop being dramatic, Emma, that’s Jones’s job) she’d think that she’d wandered into a dream.

Or a postcard.

It was perfect.

Hoping beyond hope that she was in the right place, Emma slip-slid down the hill towards the mountain man (don’t call him that if you want his help, Emma) and called out so she wouldn’t startle him.

He jumped anyway.

“Can I help you, lass?”

God, the accent matched Jones’s and if this man wasn’t related to Killian, Emma would turn in her badge.

“I… I have Killian.”

The ax slipped off his shoulder and thudded in the snow at his boots.

“I… he needs help.”

Blood drained from the man’s face as he stared at her.  “Where’s my brother?”

Liam.  This was Liam Jon-

“Where is my brother?” he shouted before Emma could process the question the first time.

Emma pointed up the hill.  “Here.  In my car.  I didn’t… I ran out of road.”

Liam shot past her, climbing the hill in record pace and leaving Emma holding the keys, a little shell-shocked.

And then she realized that if Liam was anything like his brother, he’d likely break one of her windows rather than waiting for the keys.

“Hey!  Wait for me!” she shouted at his back, scrambling up the incline after Liam.

When she got to the car, Liam hadn’t broken the window.  He was staring inside with one hand clenched around the door handle, trembling a little.

“Is he…” he whispered, apparently aware that she was behind him.

Emma reached around him to unlock the door.  “He passed out about half an hour ago.  But he’s all right”---Emma shrugged at Liam’s sharp look---“more or less.”

Liam wrenched open the door and knelt near Killian’s head.  His fingers carded through his brother’s hair and Emma felt as if she were intruding.

“I’ve got you now, little brother.  Just rest.”

Liam reached into his pocket and dragged out a set of keys.  “There’s a path around the back of the cabin that will bring you around here with the snowmobile.”

It was clearly a dismissal, and Emma tried not to hiss her dislike of his orders.  Killian was hers, and Emma didn’t share her toys well.

But this was Killian’s brother, and he likely didn’t want to share his brother, either.

And the two of them squaring off wouldn’t get Killian inside and warm any time soon.

So Emma snatched the keys from outstretched fingers and clomped back to the cabin.

It took longer than either of them would have liked, but Killian was secure in the sled and Liam took over maneuvering the machine back around to the cabin and the promise of warmth and help.

Emma was off the back before the engine cut out, kneeling at Killian’s head and relieved to see one eye slitted open and watching her.

“Hey there,” she whispered, a silly little grin on her face.  “Welcome back.”

Killian tried to shake his head.  “Didn’t go anywhere.  Safe?”

“You’re safe, little brother,” Liam cut in, undoing the straps over Killian’s chest and hips.  “Let’s get you inside and warm, aye?  Then you can tell me all about this mess you’ve found yourself in.”

Killian whined audibly, but reached out for Liam’s arm and tried to lever himself up.

Emma and Liam leapt forward to support him when he cried out and fell back into the metal sled.

“You wanna try the less stubborn route this time, Jones?” Emma chided.

Liam laughed.

He sobered up quickly when Killian didn’t have a quick retort.

“Let us do the heavy lifting this time, little brother.”

Killian’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t try to move again.  “I think you mean younger”---he whispered and then paused---“and I thought you said I wasn’t heavy?”

“Not what I meant and you know it,” Liam argued.

It took longer than Emma would have liked, and with a lot more cursing on everyone’s parts, but they eventually got him standing.  One arm over Liam’s shoulders and Emma’s fingers snagged in his belt loops, Killian almost looked like he was able to stand on his own.

“One step at a time, Jones,” she reminded them both when Killian staggered forward.  “We’ve got you.”

“He should be in a hospital,” Liam seethed.

“I can hear you, brother.”

“Yes, well you’re clearly incapable of making smart decisions right now, so you don’t get a vote.”

Emma felt the way Killian bristled and explained the situation as best she could.

“Safe here, Liam,” Killian cajoled, limping up the steps to the porch.

Liam growled, but stopped arguing.  “Aye, little brother.  You’re safe here.  Let’s get you inside.”

The inside of the cabin was just as rustic as she’d imagined.  A wood-burning stove in one corner of the kitchen and a fireplace ringed by well-loved furniture and bookshelf after bookshelf in the living room.  There were a couple doors off the main room, the wooden beams decorated with garland that had seen better days.

“This first door’s my room, but the back one’s his.”  Liam nodded his head towards the tightly closed door as they moved carefully past the couches.

Killian whined.

“Bed, little brother.  I don’t want you falling off the couch.”

Killian glared.

Emma lifted the latch on the door and let it swing inwards, taking in the dark blues and the light wood that filled Killian’s room.  They sidled through the doorway and Liam transferred Killian’s weight to her as he moved to turn down the well-worn quilt and thick blankets.

Killian groaned as he was lowered down onto the mattress but then flopped down onto his side and was nearly unconscious again before they could get him settled.

“I’ll get the medical kit we keep on hand if you can get him all the way in bed?” Liam asked gently.

Emma nodded silently.

“There’s more blankets in the closet if you’re chilled, lass.”

“Emma,” she whispered, not taking her eyes off Killian.

“Pleased to meet you, Emma,” Liam whispered back before leaving the room.

Killian’s eye fluttered open as she unlaced his boots and swung his feet up under the sheets.  “‘M all bloody,” he complained, trying to rise again.

“Don’t worry about it,” Emma scolded, her hand on his shoulder.  “Liam and I will get you all cleaned up.”

He mumbled something, but it was lost as he drifted off.

Hours later, the burns and lacerations and bruises swathed in gauze and the clothes he’d been worried about long gone, Killian rested comfortably under a mountain of blankets and pillows.  His head canted to one side, soft snores coming from his mouth as he slept.  Liam was sitting on the far side of the bed, one hand resting on Killian’s shoulder as he, too, dozed in the late evening’s peace.

Emma worried.

This wasn’t the end of things.  Killian was still in danger.  Liam was in danger, now, because Emma had brought Killian here.  Hades wouldn’t take this lightly.

But there was nothing to do at the moment but keep the Jones brothers safe.  And that started with getting Killian to heal.

When a shiver coursed through Killian, shaking her hand as it carded through his hair, Emma reached out to tuck the blankets more tightly around his shoulders.

Hades hadn’t counted on one thing - Emma Swan protected those she loved, and she’d never failed.

He didn’t stand a chance.

[roseonhissleeve]

Dear DILF

REQUEST: Surprising Harry on tour to tell him you're pregnant. Except the timing works out perfectly with fathers day, so you tell him by giving him a card. Preferably one of those ones which are like 'Dear Dilf, need I say more'

REQUEST: I just realized your requests are open and I am flipping right now! Can you pretty please do one where you tell Harry you're pregnant and its extremely fluffy and cute with many cuddles and loads of love! Love you and your blog loads and loads ♥

You had a love/hate relationship with tour season.

On the one hand, you hated that Harry had to be away from you. You had your own job and your own things that you needed to do, and you couldn’t exactly drop everything to follow him as he travelled around the world. You missed him terribly when he was away, and the two of you had gotten so used to each other at this point that it felt like something huge was missing when he wasn’t around. It was hard on him as well; it wasn’t like before you met two years ago when he could travel to his heart’s content. Sunsets simply weren’t as beautiful, and certain sights weren’t as breathtaking without you there by his side to see them. You skype called and texted as much as you possibly could to make up for it, but there was nothing that could even remotely come close to the feeling of falling asleep in his arms after a long day.

On the other hand, you loved to see him perform. It was one of your absolutely favorite things to do; it helped that you were a fan before meeting him and genuinely loved the boys’ music, but watching Harry on stage was absolutely mesmerizing. It seemed like every inch of him was amplified by the thousand—his smiles were brighter and his movements were stronger, and you could tell that it was the place where he felt happiest. Except for when he was with you, he would say. And the times that you got to fly out to see him were perhaps your favorite moments together—the rush of seeing each other after being apart for weeks at a time definitely made up for the time that you had to wait in between, and if anything the distance only ever brought you closer.

The reunion sex was definitely a big bonus.

It was after their show in Toronto when it happened. You had flown to visit him, and the concert was as amazing as ever. You didn’t get to see him until after the show was over, and the sight of your very sweaty and very beautiful rockstar almost made your heart stop. You could tell that he felt the same, because his features lit up more than they already had when he saw you running down the hallway to jump into his arms.

“Harry!” You squealed lightly as you slipped your arms around his neck and immediately looped your legs around his waist to pull his body closer to yours. You could smell the sweat on his body and his dark purple t-shirt was beginning to stick to yours, but you wouldn’t let go for anything.

“How’d you sneak back here, you menace?” He teased as he playfully pinched your behind while supporting your weight with both his palms, turning to press you against the nearest wall as he nipped at your neck.

The next several minutes consisted of the two of you giggling and fooling around backstage in Harry’s dressing room, caught up in each other as if you’d just fallen in love. That was the thing you loved most about the two of you—you’d had your fair share of arguments and bumps in the road like any other couple, but the spark had never faded.

Later on the two of you spent the rest of the night entwined in each other—Harry paid close attention to reclaiming all of the curves and patches of skin on your body that made your toes curl and your lips moan his name, and you woke up the next morning an entanglement of limbs in the white bedsheets.

It was about three weeks since then, and you were standing in your bathroom with your pants in a pool of fabric between your ankles and a little plastic stick between your fingers.

You were pregnant.

“Oh my god,” you whispered to yourself.

It took you a few minutes to truly process it; you looked at the little positive symbol on the pregnancy test about five times a second, and your hand had flown to your belly immediately taking the test and hadn’t left the area since. The surprise seemed to manifest itself by forming this lump in your throat that you couldn’t rid yourself of, and your eyes prickled with tears.

It was impossible, you thought you yourself, leaning against the counter in the bathroom as you closed your eyes and counted.

You had been on birth control since before you and Harry had started dating, and you were always on top of it. Always. You went in for your appointments to get your birth control injections so you wouldn’t have to keep up with taking a pill every day, and it had been working for you.

You counted and you attempted to recall the last time that you and Harry had been together, and where in your cycle you’d been, when you remembered that your latest appointment was supposed to have been the day that you were in Toronto with Harry. You were so caught up with surprising him that it hadn’t even crossed your mind, and since it had passed when you got home you hadn’t clued into it yet.

“Oh my god,” you repeated, a little bit louder this time. You looked at yourself in the mirror for a long moment, your gaze attached to the point of contact between the palm of your hand and the soft swell of your belly that was now housing a baby.

Harry’s baby.

Your baby.

Upon this realization you couldn’t help but smile, gently running your fingertips along the skin of your tummy. You could feel the happiness bubbling inside your heart, and you wanted to call Harry on the phone right away and tell him. You needed to tell him right away, but it had to be special—you knew Harry, and you knew that he would be excited about this baby. You’d been together for a few years now and even though you weren’t married or engaged yet, you knew that the two of you were it. That you were done looking. Harry was it for you.

Your mind immediately began to race with ways of surprising him with the reveal—you wanted it to be something funny, something that suited him and how much the two of you laughed and joked around together. After a couple of hours spent on the internet looking up ideas and booking a plane ticket, you grabbed your phone and scrolled through your contacts, pressing the “call” button when you found who you were looking for.

“Hey Liam, it’s (Y/N). I need a favor…”

It was Father’s Day. You had called your own dad earlier that morning to talk to him, and your head was buzzing with excitement. You had to wait another week for the date to arrive, but you wanted everything to be planned perfectly.

You had been delivered to Harry’s hotel room after Liam picked you up from the airport; he had been rather excited to be in on the plan, and he gave you a hug so tight that you thought he would crush the baby when he found out why you needed to be there in such a rush. You weren’t going to the concert tonight, because you didn’t want to give anything away—the boys were going to bring him to his room right after the show instead of going out, where you would be waiting with your present to him.

You were sitting on his bed, almost running out of patience when you heard their voices coming from down the hall. Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his.

“Since when are yeh too tired to go out, Niall?”

“I need my beauty sleep, Harold. This Irish princess doesn’t jus’ wake up like this.”

“He’s never gonna let go of tha’ Irish princess bit now, I reckon,” Louis chimed in, and you could tell that they were in front of the door.

There was a bit more banter and finally some cheery goodbyes and goodnights before you heard Harry unlock the door with his pass key. You almost jumped out of the bed with anticipation, and you couldn’t wipe the huge grin off of your face.

His features crumpled for a split second with surprise at the sight of you, and it took everything inside of you not to blurt it out right then and there. After processing that you were there, right there in front of him, he crossed the room with large strides and immediatley picked you up and swung you around in a little circle, his lips attacking your features with a series of light pecks that covered your cheeks, forehead, nose, chin, everything he could touch.

“Hello, love!” You giggled as you clung to him tightly, your heart never feeling as full as it did right in that moment.

“You’re here,” he said almost more to himself than to you, hugging you tight to his chest as he placed your feet back on the ground.

“I’m here,” you repeated with butterflies in your belly, your nerves taking over. You knew you didn’t have anything to be nervous about— this was Harry, your best friend in the entire world, the love of your life. But you couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious about it regardless.

“When did you—”

“I have something for you,” you blurted out before you could get yourslef together, your excitement getting the best of you. You felt a rush of heat at your cheeks as they began to turn red, and he chuckled a bit at your sudden timidness.

“Do yeh? You know yeh don’t have to go buyin’ things fo’ me, pet,” he protested halfheartedly, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck in pure bliss with a happy smile spread across his features.

“I didn’t,” you said, swallowing thickly. You pulled apart from his embrace only slightly so that you could reach to grab the little white envelope that you had set on the table, and you clumsily shoved it between the two of you to draw attention to it.

His gaze flickered to yours with curiosity, and he released you in order to grab ahold of the envelope and open the flap. You watched closely as he pulled out the card that you had carefully picked, and you bit your lower lip in anticipation as his eyes scanned across the card.

“Dear Dilf,

Looks like I won’t be the only one calling you ‘Daddy’ next year.”

It took him all of three seconds to read it, look up at you in confusion, see the huge smile on your face and clue into what you were trying to say. His lips parted for a long moment before he actually formulated any words or sentences, and when he finally spoke it was so quiet that you almost couldn’t hear it.

“(Y/N), are you…”

“Yes,” you whispered softly, your voice choking up a little bit at the sight of the pure adoration in his eyes.

You watched as his smile widened, looking down at the card and back up at you and back down at the card a total of six times before holding the card to his chest as if it was worth a million dollars. He then lifted his hands to set them at the back of his head almost in disbelief. You could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he came to the same realization that you had a week prior.

He was going to be a daddy, and you were going to be a mummy.

“We’re gonna have a baby…I’m gonna…I’m gonna be a daddy?” He parted his lips softly as his eyes met yours again, and you could see that they were all watery with the tears that had formed. It made your heart clench and you nodded your head tenderly.

“You’re going to be a daddy,” you repeated with a happy little sniffle, grinning as you captured his face between the palms of your hands. “You’re going to be the best daddy…”

“I love you,” he blurted out almost without thinking, immediatley pressing endless kisses against your lips, to your cheek, to your chin, and down to your shoulder. He continued to repeat those three words, I love you, in between kisses; he was creating a path down your shoulder and down the valley in between your breasts, I love you, down to your belly, I love you, where he got down on both of his knees and wrapped his arms tightly around your waist and pressed a collection of soft kisses to the surface of your belly; I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, he said.

“I love you,” you said with a grin, gently rubbing at his scalp with the tips of your fingers as you ran them through his hair, allowing him to get acquainted with your belly, and his child.

Your child.

He barely let go of you the rest of the night. You spent hours in bed together, just as you had countless nights before and as you would for countless nights afterwards, and after making love into the depths of the night his hand settled against the rise of your stomach as he pulled your back to his chest, pressing soft kisses to the back of your shoulder.

“What about Angelica for a girl?” He murmured softly, your hair tied back in a ponytail and your body only covered with one of his large shirts as you curled your toes against his leg.

“I like that…what about if it’s a boy?” You replied, your eyes closed as you lay in bed with the man that you loved.

“Oh, Hubert. Definitely Hubert.”

“Hubert?!” You protested, immediately squirming around within his embrace to face him so that you could show him your disapproval all over your face.

“Hubert. It’s a good name. It’s a noble name,” he teased, his dimple showing prominently even in the depths of the night.

“We’re not naming our kid Hubert,” you giggled, delivering a swift kick to his shin.

“Fine, but I’m callin’im Hubert.”

“No you’re not!” You laughed in disbelief. “Maybe I’ll raise him with Niall instead.”

“Are you kiddin’ me? With a name like Niall you’ll get something much worse than Hubert. I’d go with Liam, he’s a dependable lad,” he elaborated, and it caused you to exhale a series of giggles as you curled up closer against his chest and nuzzled into his shoulder.

There definitely wasn’t anybody else you’d rather be with, and you knew it with every depth of your heart.

[feelthepxwer]

Below is a thread that is backdated to the end of June 2019 between Uma & Harry Hook !!

sure, maybe he was being a little over eager but could anyone blame him for it? this was uma, after all. the one he had loved since the very first day eyes had been laid upon her. of course harry would be eager to officially tie the knot even if it wasn't a proper wedding for the time being. really, the only thing that mattered was them being married. everything else could wait. huddled under the blankets in the captain's quarters, his gaze was focused on her -- gentle, loving. he really was a man utterly head over heels in love. "ye know, I still think it's best jus' tae get married now an' hold off on an actual wedding. makes more sense."

-- & If she laid there long enough, ignoring him, would he fall asleep? Not without bugging her a little while longer, probably. After a moment lips slowly slide upward into a grin, only then do her eyes open to face him. "That's the second time you've suggest it." Shifting if only to lay on her side, allowing herself a better glance in his direction. "Don't you think Gil will pout if we get married without him? And we still need witnesses."

second time, sure. at least it was better than the fifth or sixth time. peering at her, lips pursed into a slight pout from the response. "ain't my fault tha' I wanna be married." this was what harry had been wanting for so long without even realizing it. "it's not like it's the wedding. jus' making it official. everyone can be at the wedding. an' we got witnesses. the crew would happily do what they were asked."

-- & Gentle laugh catches in her throat as hand lifts to cup his cheek, thumb brushing against skin only to fall back to the bed. "As long as you don't threaten Jonas, he'll do whatever you ask him to."  Realistically she can understand why Harry wants it to be official already, she can't blame him ether. Despite her not wanting to own up to how soft he makes her, the weakness they've always been taught to hide; Uma wants this more than anything. "Do you think technically, animals count? I mean they've got personalities, hearts, minds. Look at Flotsam and Jetsam, they can talk."

sighing against the touch, harry felt even more relaxed than he had just a few seconds ago. "wouldn't threaten 'im fer this. I would think they'd all be more than willing tae be a witness fer us." the question brings him pause, shifting to fully face her how. "I wouldn't see why not. 'sides, when 'ave we ever followed the rules in the first place? if we think they count I don't see why it wouldn't work fer us." it made sense, at the very least. in their lives.

-- & There were a few people on the crew that always butted heads with her, Gil and Harry. Didn't mean they didn't love them, the crew was family and sometimes family meant you fought a bit here and there. "If that's the case..." She's trailing off, lips set into a grin. Takes but a second before she's pushing up and out of bed, all but bounding over to the large window of her cabin and thrusting it open. "Tick tock!" Name falls and then a loud whistle call for the croc, eyes watching the waters she'd spelled to keep warmer than any other area. After all, they couldn't have their darling croc freezing to death with this weather. "Matey and him should count, mm?" Gaze flickers back to her first mate, genuine smile.

it takes a moment for harry to fully realize exactly what uma is doing whenever she goes to call for tick tock. he'd been wanting this for so long, it seems almost unreal that it could actually be a possibility right in this moment. harry shifts, sitting up and letting the covers fall from him. gaze is locked in her, slight awe in expression. "--aye," he manages to get out, still trying to process everything. unable to help himself, a smile is finding it's way to his own lips. "we're really gonna do this, then?"

-- & She can't help the giddy laughter bellowing forward at his expression, because rarely can Uma pull something like this over on Harry. Usually it's the opposite way round. Instead she's rather pleased with herself, leaning against the open window as she studies him. "You wanted to, right? And you made a good point." Tongue moves out to dampen her bottom lip. "Besides, I don't want a real wedding when the snows still around so it's not like we don't have time." Head tilts out the window and sure as shit, green scales have caught her attention. "You ready?" Christ, her stomach is in flips.

nodding his head, harry was quick to climb from the bed, making his way towards where uma was standing. his heart is racing, unable to hold back his excitement. "o' course I do, love. it's what I've always wanted." uma has a good point about the weather. it would be miserable to have a wedding right now. that could be handled once this winter was done and over with for good. until then, they could at least know that things were official. the smile has only grown now, elated and nervous at the same time. "never more ready in me life."

--- & There's an overwhelming feeling of pride knowing that she's got the ability to do this, that in a matter of moment they'll be married. Talk about the ultimate pirate notion. With a brisk nod of her head she's patting her thigh and cooing, calling Matey over who complies eagerly.  "Dearly beloved, we be gathered here today to witness the marriage of -- " She's gesturing then for him to state his name, all the while ensuring both Matey and Tick Tock are still present.

fuck, this is actually happening right now. harry could hardly believe it despite being the one to ask for it. he's nothing but smiles, seeing both of their beloved pets there for this moment between the two of them. "harry hook," he states, gaze locking onto uma, heart pounding away within his chest. this certainly was one of the best perks of being captain of a ship, that was for sure.

-- & Her stomach feels like it's about to pop out of her throat and dance around them, for fucks sake. It's beyond nerve wracking. This is apart of her Captains duties that quite frankly, Uma never anticipating actually needing to use. Let alone for herself and yet here she is.  "And Uma Vantis," Sharp breath inward as she tries to keep herself as steady as possible; remembering the lines she's supposed to say. It's not like she's ever done this before. Focus -- "In sickness and in health. For rich or for poor. " Holy shit this was happening.  "Do you Harry Hook take me, Uma Vantis to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

he's not quite certain what's to be done or said in this sort of situation. it wasn't like either of them really had any experience in weddings or had really seen them up close. that just wasn't a thing on the isle, nor would it have ever been. he's listening intently, trying to fight back the overwhelming excitement inside of him right now. it's not easy, but he manages to tamper it down for the time being, if only to focus on the moment. "I do." voice was certain, unwavering as he spoke those two simple words. "and do ye, uma vantis, take me, harry hook, tae be yer lawfully wedded husband?" fuck, this was happening. it still felt a dream despite knowing full well it was so much more than that.

-- & oh my god oh my god oh my god. It's on a repetitive loop in her mind, screaming and then there's this oddly serene notion taking over her. They're going to be MARRIED. Sworn to each other for the rest of their lives, it's more than just a vague promise and etched in skin. This is scary real. "I do." A pause then with gaze studying his features, he's so handsome. "As Captain of the Lost Revenge and by the power vested in me I ---- " Oh god. "I now pronounce us husband and wife."

there was no doubt within his mind that uma was just as certain as he was about this. he had never even more sure of anything in his life. it's real, it's happening and yet despite all of the nerves harry knows this is everything he could have asked for. husband and wife. words are spoken and yet it doesn't register for a few seconds. and then harry is leaning closer, unable to help himself, as he presses their lips together.

-- & By all laws and binding ties, they're officially married. Uma's still in a state of nervous energy when kiss pulls her from said said, arms wrapping around his neck to return the kiss eager; only breaking with a set of giggles. "We're married." Disbelief whisper and glance through the window down at the crocodile who has no qualms about seemingly anything if the toothy grin is any indication. "You think anyone will be mad we used Matey and Tick Tock as witnesses?"

they're married. officially married. he repeating ot over and over within his mind, still processing it all. not too long ago the two of them never could have even thought about having this in their lives. "we are. married." he lets out a small laugh, head shaking as he presses their foreheads together, arms wrapping tight around uma's waist. "nah, I think they'd understand it. probably."