#day of driving I will be exhausted and add emotional exhaustion to that from seeing family and add fucking bitchy mood and being judged on

[milo-is-rambling]

My mother really out here telling me “you just make all the plans for driving and I’ll work around that” and then a couple days later once I’ve made plans and talked to people about shit she’s like hey actually you should come up a day earlier so you can get your grandparents (who are practically falling apart mentally and physically and my grandfather pisses himself and if he pees in the car that I am both sleeping and driving in I will be upset!!!) in the middle of Maine and drive them to New Hampshire for me bc I will be too tired from getting a three hour flight to go drive them :’( AS IF IM NOT DRIVING SIX HOURS OR MORE EVERY DAY FOR A WEEK HELLO??? YOU CANT DRIVE FIVE HOURS AFTER SLEEPING THE WHOLE TIME ON A THREE HOUR FLIGHT LIKE I KNOW ITS CRAMPED AND MISERABLE BUT YOU’RE GOING TO GO FROM A PLANE TO A NICE RENTAL CAR VS ME SLEEPING IN THE FUCKING TRUNK FOR A WEEK LIKE GIRL WHAT YOU ALREADY TOLD ME TO PLAN EVERYTHING AND NOW YOU’RE MOVING SHIT AROUND AND SHES ALL LIKE “well your aunt is gonna be visiting on the 11th so I have to get a flight on the 12th and then graduation is on the 13th early in the morning so I just won’t have time to go get them” LIKE GIRL THIS IS THE SAME AUNT THAT IS COMING TO OUR HOUSE FOR ONE SINGULAR DAY AND THEN WE WILL SEE HER AGAIN IN NEW HAMPSHIRE WHILE WE ARE ON OUR TRIP LIKE YOU LITERALLY TOLD ME “oh don’t worry about missing her we’re gonna do the graduation party at her house when we’re up north” AND THEN YOU WONT SHIFT YOUR PLANS ONE DAY TO FIX ALL OF THE SCHEDULING CONFLICTS BUT YOU WANT ME TO TWEAK A WHOLE WEEK OF DRIVING PLANS BACK A DAY TO MAKE IT MORE CONVENIENT FOR YOU and also I simply don’t want to. Also the garbage truck just passed bc I slept in and I don’t think we got the garbage out and I know we definitely didn’t get the trash from my room or bathroom out of the house and so now moms gonna be pissed at me for that god fuck this is so infuriating I am not planning a trip while on my period ever again I want to bite my mothers head off for even suggesting an alternate plan what is wrong with me I am such a bitch what the fuck no wonder she fucking hates me okay I am going back to bed she can figure this shit out later when she’s not slamming doors and yelling about work

[soulrph]

" 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 "  𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒.

a wonderfully patient and creative nonnie asked for a list of prompts based on interactions between two good friends in the aftermath of a trauma that happens to one of them, and i’m nothing if not a sucker for angst and deeply emotional connections! so here we go! i’m hoping these will be up to the nonnie’s expectations! have a wonderful day, my lovelies, and DO NOT ADD TO THIS LIST !!

“ i really hate seeing you like this... “

“ why don’t we hang out tonight? like we used to, you know? order in cheap take-out, watch crappy movies, go for a walk... whatever you want, right? “

“ please say something... anything. even if it’s telling me to shut up and leave you alone... just say something. “

“ i really miss you, you know. “

“ i’m here. you got that? i don’t care if you never say anything to me ever again. i don’t care. i’m not going away, and i’m not going to stop being here for you, no matter how long you glare at me or ignore me or pretend that you’re okay. because i know you’re not. i know. “

“ talk to me. i don’t care what we talk about. it doesn’t have to be anything big. we don’t need to talk about whatever happened to you, not unless you want to. i just... just talk to me, will you? “

“ you know, i talk to a lot of people every single day. i hear all their voices telling me all kinds of stuff; i hear it all. and the only voice i really wanna listen to is yours, you know? even when you’re driving me crazy. so come on. please... just drive me crazy again? “

“ ...seriously? no come-back? no witty retort? no... sarcastic shot at me? come on, i... i know we never ask these things, but, honestly, i’m worried about you. what��s going on? “

“ penny for your thoughts? hell. a dollar? ten? fifty? my whole life-savings? damn, at this rate i’d give away everything i own just to hear your voice again. “

“ this is like, the ninth voicemail i’ve left, and i know you hate voicemails, so i’m thinking this might be the one that pisses you off enough to pick up the phone and talk to me. because despite the number of times i’ve told you to shut up, i’m actually begging you to say something, now. weird how things work out, isn’t it? anyway. pick up your freaking phone, moron. please. “

“ will you please talk to me? please? “

“ i have exhausted every single topic that i can think of to get you to open your mouth and say something to me. all of them. you leave me no choice... how are you? “

“ listen, we’re all really worried about you. okay? and we wanna help you, but we don’t know how. so how about you write us a note, or something? maybe just, open the door, huh? i just wanna know that you’re okay. “

“ you’re not alone, you know. you’ve got people who love you. who care about you. you’ve got me. and i’m not going anywhere. “

“ look, i don’t know what happened to you. and i don’t need you to tell me, okay? i don’t... i just want you to know that i’m here. i got you. no matter what. and if you need some space, then... then i can leave. just tell me what you need, okay? “

“ i don’t need you to say anything. you don’t even need to open the door. i’m just gonna slide this paper under the door, okay? you tell me what you want for dinner, and i’ll bring it up. “

“ i’m sending you on a list of therapists and group support meetings in the area, okay? you don’t have to go, but... promise me you’ll take a look at the list, right? “

“ listen, i know you gave me a copy of your key for emergencies, and this feels like an emergency, but... if the silent treatment is part of you trying to get some space, then i don’t wanna intrude. you know? so just text me if that’s what this is, and i’ll leave you alone. “

“ i know, i know. you asked me to leave you alone. but that was two weeks ago, okay? and i haven’t heard from you. you aren’t answering my texts, you aren’t even reading them. nobody’s seen or heard from you, and... and now i just want to know that you’re okay. so please, open your door, and let me make sure that you’re safe, will you? “

[brittscafe]

Hello! I absolutely love your writing. First time sending in a request. Toshiro x fem! reader please 😊

I was wondering if you could write something, with someone who is also a Sagittarius like he is? Or a fire sign in general? Who shares similar traits like he has. And yet, she's completely fallen for him because he sees the world from a different perspective from her.

Both seem to love the sky, have strong morals, are respectful, are stubborn and unbending when it comes to protecting those they care for, trains a lot to protect those who cannot protect themself, can be soft and/or playful with those they care for, anxious when they feel their loved ones are in danger, and reserved about keeping their heart (love) to themselves.

But in this case, for fem! reader, an incident happens one day, that causes her to lose control of her emotions and they just spill out like word vomit. She finds herself mortified. She doesn't want to lose him because she lost herself in the moment or out of selfishness.

Sorry if that's too detailed 😖 the rules say to add details. You're the pro, feel free to pluck out whatever makes sense and leave out whatever doesn't 💝

Fluffy or romantic ending please 🙏🏻. If you think it could potentially go into smut territory, I'll take that too!

Hiiiii! I love all the details omgggg <3 Also, I am so so so soooo sorry for finishing sooo late, it's been in my drafts for months <3

You had manage to keep your feelings hidden inside of you, they were true, but reserved. You couldn't possibly ever admit your love for Toshiro Hitsugaya, it's something you are going to keep to yourself until your grave.

You were never reckless on the battlefield, but you were always plenty anxious. Anxious to lose your friends and anxious of them getting hurt, especially Captain Hitsugaya.

Captain Hitsugaya, you, and his squad are out in the World of the Living on a mission when the arrancars decide to attack.

Smoke fills the air as the sky starts to darken to a light grey. You tighten your grasp around your sword handle, panting heavily as your chest rumbles.

"Are they ever going to give up?" Rangiku sighs out, clearly annoyed and exhausted. Toshiro shoots her a sharp glare and clears his throat.

"Stay focused, Rangiku. Take the other squad members to deal with Findorr and Harribel. Y/n and I will take care of Grimmjow," Toshiro states with a demanding voice.

Rangiku nods her head and disappears off the to other side town to deal with the other arrancars, squad members backing her up.

You glance over at Toshiro then over at Grimmjow, a strand of his eletric blue hair hanging down over his face.

"Let's have some fun," Grimmjow chuckles out, eyes full of darkness as he leaps forward, swinging his sword. Toshiro and you easily dodge Grimmjow's attack.

The two of you spin around, expecting to face Grimmjow, but he's nowhere in sight.

Then, your eyes widen and you turn your head around.

It's too late.

Grimmjow's already swinging his sword straight at Toshiro, there's not enough time for him to block the attack.

Your body moves before you can even think; it's not like you had to think about it though. You would lay your life on the line for Toshiro at anytime.

A startled gasp leaves your lips as the sword drives through your lower stomach instead of Toshiro.

"No," Toshiro mumbles underneath his breath, heart ramming against his chest as time moves ever so slowly. Toshiro had no idea that time was like water, moving so slowly.

He watches as the blood spreads throughout your uniform and Grimmjow rips his sword out of your body.

Your weak body now collaspes on the ground, unable to hold itself up. Toshiro glances over at where Grimmjow once was, but he's gone, disappeared back to Hueco Mundo with the rest of the arrancars.

Toshiro kneels down beside you as you pant heavily, sweat beads on your forehead as you stare up at the sky that's now clearing of the grey color, going back to its original blue color.

"Y/n, why would you do that?" Toshiro raises his voice, eyebrows furrowing. Concern fills his icy blue eyes as he pants heavily and your face scrunches up in agony.

Your eyes immediately fill up with burning tears as you gaze over at him, trying to hold yourself together. Your stomach is twisting into uneasy knots, your mind flooding with thoughts.

If you were going die...you can't die without confessing your feelings for Toshiro.

"Because...I'm in love with you," your voice breaks as the tears stream down your cheeks. His eyes widen and the cold wind slaps against his skin.

"What?" Toshiro breathes out, eyes glued onto your mortified face.

"I couldn't lose you," you groan out, pain rippling through your torso and spreading like a wildfire. You squirm on the ground and Toshiro's eyes rake over your face.

He can't lose you. Not like this.

Toshiro stares at you for a moment, gazing into your beautiful, teary eyes. He slowly reaches out his hand in the moment of silence and your stomach twists.

You suddenly ease as Toshiro places his hand on your cheek, thumb caressing your skin. Your skin is so soft against his thumb and he relishes in the moment.

You're in so much pain and he wants nothing to do other than to take it all away.

"I can't lose you either, y/n," Toshiro speaks up, swiftly stepping into action. His arms wrap up your body and lift you up into his tiny, but yet very strong arms.

But that was all that Toshiro had to say to convey his feelings. He couldn't lose you either...

Your eyes are wide in shock as you stare at Toshiro, so desperate to save you. Your face is hot though from his words and you gulp, slowly starting to remember how much pain you're in...after all there is a hole in your torso right now.

"Thank you," you mumble out, resting your head against his chest as he carries you off to safety in his arms.

You eventually passed out from the pain on the way back to the Soul Society. Toshiro took his opportunity to kiss your forehead with a warm and soft kiss...

[sisterspooky1013]

Parallel, Chapter 6/6

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

She wakes with an arid gasp, shooting upright and scanning her surroundings in a panic. It’s dark, and she reaches blindly across the bed for Mulder to find that he isn’t there.

There’s no sunset, no window, no California king size bed. As seconds pass and her hammering heart slows enough for her thoughts to organize themselves, she realizes that she’s back in Georgetown. The bedside clock reads just past 3:00 am, and she scrambles for her watch to confirm the date. Fewer than five hours have passed since she got into bed.

She picks up the phone and begins to dial Mulder’s number, but hangs up before it has a chance to ring. She doesn’t just need to hear his voice, she needs to see him, to smell him, to know that he’s the right one. That he is hers.

She takes all of five minutes to change her clothes and brush her teeth, forgoing any attempt to look halfway decent. Not that it should matter what she looks like; he’s seen her at her objective worst. He’s seen her exhausted, and dirty, and on the brink of death, and he still looks at her with so much wonder, so much admiration it makes her uncomfortable, because she feels so undeserving of it. She walks out the door in jeans and an oversized sweater, her hair combed but her face bare, and her heart pinned to her sleeve.

Her mind is oddly blank as she drives to his apartment, ascends the elevator, and knocks on his door. She’s operating on instinct, allowing her emotions to lead for once instead of stuffing them down. Allowing the ache in her chest to seek resolution instead of ignoring it. He doesn’t answer and she knocks again, more urgently this time, afraid that she might lose her nerve.

He opens the door and squints at the lights in the hallway. He’s wearing flannel pajama pants but no shirt, and his hair is entirely flat on one side. His rumpled, boyish appearance is disarming and endearing all at once.

“Scully?” he asks groggily, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Did something happen?”

She steps forward and wraps her arms around his waist, pressing her nose into his chest so she can breathe him in deep. A feeling of calm washes over her and she sighs with relief. This is him. This is the right one. Her Mulder.

“You okay?” he asks, returning her hug. “Scully, it’s 3:00 am,” he adds with an edge of surprise.

“I’m okay,” she says, her voice muffled against his skin. “I just had a bizarre dream and I needed to know that you were here.”

“Here at my apartment?” he asks, pulling away a little. She nods, not quite ready to explain it. Not quite sure how. “You could’ve called me,” he points out, and for the first time since leaving her apartment she feels embarrassed and afraid of what he’ll think of her.

“I know,” she says, avoiding his eyes. “But the nature of this dream was—I don’t think I would have felt sure it was really you just from a phone call.”

She can feel his interest piquing, and she wishes she’d been more vague. Most people find discussion of other people’s dreams intolerably boring, but Mulder isn’t most people.

“Come sit down,” he says, gently steering her towards the living room. “I’ll put a pot of coffee on.”

“It’s 3:00 am, Mulder,” she objects, though she knows it’s useless.

He brings her a cup of coffee in what he must have gathered is her favorite mug among his collection. It’s tall and narrow, bearing the faded logo of a long-since closed diner they used to frequent in the days before she started sleeping with her weapon in her bedside drawer. It has just the right amount of cream and sugar, and she tries to remember when and how he perfected that. He never asked, just observed, like he’s observing her now. Watching her bring the mug to her lips and blow the steam away, take a sip and then lower it back to her lap. Three, four, five times he watches her do this, saying nothing. She feels the weight of his attention and for once she lets it sit, lets herself become acclimated to it instead of distracting it away.

“Was it a nightmare?” he says suddenly, and she lifts her eyes to find that his are on her, his elbow propped on the back of the couch and his head resting on his fist.

Her memory flashes on him wrapped around her in the shower, and then his hand gently kneading her breast, and she feels her cheeks warm.

“No,” she says. “Not a nightmare.”

“What was it, then? Not a nightmare, but strange enough to send you across town at 3:00 am? I’ll admit that I’m intrigued,” he says, setting his cup on the coffee table.

She looks down at her lap, running her thumb along the rim of her mug nervously. Her thumbnail is tattered, her manicure ruined, and she frowns as she examines the other hand to find it similarly defaced.

“I think—” she begins, preemptively embarrassed. “I think that maybe our conversation influenced it. In fact, I’m positive that it did.”

“Our conversation?” he asks, oblivious. Leave it to Mulder to have no recollection of an extensive discussion on alternate universes.

“Albert Homnell’s theories on alternate dimensions?” she reminds him, and in her periphery she sees him nod.

“That’s interesting dream fodder,” he says, taking a drink before returning his mug to the coffee table. “What’d your subconscious cook up?”

She steals a glance at him. He still has that unkempt, unguarded, fresh-from-sleep look about him. His cheeks are dark with stubble and his already hooded eyes are drooping. Knowing him, he likely only went to bed a couple hours ago.

“It’s not important, Mulder. I should go so we can both get some sleep,” she says, moving to stand. The weight of his hand on her forearm stills her.

“C’mon, Scully. You’re already here, and now you’ve got me curious,” he gently chides her, and she acquiesces with a sigh.

“It’s, uh…it’s a bit awkward,” she prefaces, setting her mug on the table beside his so she can wring her hands instead.

“If you were hoping that would dissuade my curiosity, you should know that it has the opposite effect,” he says with a smile in his voice, and despite herself she smiles as well.

“I dreamt that…we were together,” she says quickly, her eyes darting between his face and the wall behind the couch. His eyebrows lift, but he otherwise gives no reaction.

“Together?” he repeats.

“Married, actually,” she says, then sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. It feels like the hardest part is out of the way.

“Married?” Mulder repeats again, his eyebrows sailing higher.

“Mmm hmm,” Scully says with a clipped nod.

“Okay,” he says, studying her closely. She can only look at him for milliseconds before she has to look away. Each time he manages to catch her eye, her stomach does backflips at the memory of his mouth on hers and…everything else. “What else?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I don’t think a dream about us being married would make you drive over here in the middle of the night to confirm my existence, so I’m wondering what else happened. There was more, right?”

He’s not being argumentative, and he does have a point.

“Well, it was sort of…it was like an entirely different world,” she attempts to explain. “We lived on the West Coast, and California was part of Canada, and my sister was there, and so was—”

“California was part of Canada?” he interrupts.

She stops and looks at his face. She was about to tell him about Sam, but that very well might just hurt him.

“Yes,” she confirms, but doesn’t elaborate. The more she tells him, the more he’ll want to know, and talking about it makes it feel real again. All of it. She shifts in her seat. “It was very vivid, and a bit disconcerting. So when I finally woke up back at my apartment, I just felt the need to be sure that I am me and you are you, if you will.”

“Was your dream version of me not your dream version of me?” he asks playfully, though she detects a hint of nervousness underneath.

She thinks about the other Mulder for a moment. Tanned, just slightly less serious, unburdened by a lifetime of tragedy. It feels like a betrayal to even entertain the idea that he might be a “better” version of the Mulder sitting right in front of her.

“He was great,” she says sincerely, “but he wasn’t you.”

Something like surprise flashes across his face, and then his eyes narrow just slightly.

“Married, huh?” he asks, and something about the tenor of his voice betrays what he’s thinking. Scully swallows nervously. “How sure are you that it was just a dream?”

Scully balks.

“What else would it be?”

Mulder shrugs, but the look on his face tells her that he’s prepared to defend his theory and she doesn’t quite feel up for that, not after what she’s just been through. And if it was real, what would that mean? For her and the version of herself who is married to Malibu Mulder.

She looks at her lap again, unsure where to go from here. She’d had such clarity back at her apartment, when she could still feel his kiss tingling on her lips. Now, it really does feel like just a dream, fading away into her memories with each passing moment. She notices her thumbnails again and runs the pads of her index fingers over their jagged edges as she tries to recall what happened to them.

So what do you say? Are we finally gonna hit that ghost tour on the way back?

She looks up at him and is momentarily surprised not to see a tanned, shaggy-haired man on the couch beside her.

“I don’t think it matters, Mulder,” she says, and he cocks his head at her. “Regardless of what it was, I think…I think it was an answer of sorts.”

“An answer to what?”

He no longer looks sleepy. His eyes are alert and focused, jumping around her face as he waits for her to speak. There’s so much expectation there, so much interest, and the stakes feel so impossibly high.

“Why did you kiss me on New Year’s Eve?” she blurts out, which is partly deflection but still very much on topic.

Mulder gapes at her, completely caught off guard, and sits up straighter.

“Where did that come from?” he asks uncomfortably, reaching for his mug only to find it empty. “I guess it seemed like the thing to do at the moment. Did it bother you?”

The fact that he seems genuinely concerned that she might be upset about it is almost funny, if not for the fact that they have been stuck in this confusing limbo for what is starting to feel like an eternity.

“No, Mulder, it didn’t bother me,” she says with a slight laugh and a shake of her head.

“Okay. Good. I’m glad to hear that.”

There’s a heavy pause and someone slams a door in the hallway. He answered her question, but at the same time he didn’t answer it at all. He didn’t say what she needed him to say, which was that he kissed her because he wanted to. If he would just give her that, she might feel brave enough to take them the rest of the way.

In her effort to look anywhere but his face, her eyes fall to the scar on his shoulder. She scoots closer and reaches out to touch it, and Mulder follows her hand with his eyes as she brushes the pad of her middle finger across the smooth pink flesh. Without thinking, she leans forward and presses her lips to it, laying her hand on his chest for stability. Beneath her palm, his heart is hammering so hard she has to resist the urge to count out his pulse rate.

I love you, she mouths against his skin.

When she lifts her head to look at him, there’s an incredibly pained expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, her hand still resting on his chest, fingers splayed.

“In your dream—” he begins, then clears his throat. “Were we happy?”

“Together?” she asks, and he nods. “Yes,” she says with a soft smile, remembering how easy it felt to just let him love her.

“Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” he asks, and now it is she who nods.

It feels as though they could fall down this rabbit hole forever, continuously ignoring the fact that they never seem to arrive anywhere.

“I wonder why you haven’t kissed me again,” she says quietly, and immediately her blood runs cold. Despite a hundred different death-defying situations she’s found herself in, this feels like the most terrifying yet.

“I wonder if you’d want me to,” he says back, and again his heart is thumping against her palm, giving him away. For some reason knowing that he is also afraid makes her feel brave.

“I would, Mulder.”

He sighs, and the warmth of his coffee breath against her cheeks is so familiar she barely hesitates at all before arching up to kiss him. He initially receives her kiss with surprise, but before she can pull away his hands are on her jaw and he’s kissing her back in earnest.

With her eyes closed, muscle memory takes over. It’s not that she’s pretending he’s Malibu Mulder, but that when she was kissing Malibu Mulder she was pretending he was her Mulder. And so kissing him, sliding her tongue across his, letting him pull her closer, all feel like things they’ve done before.

But where Malibu Mulder had the practiced, comfortable demeanor of a man kissing his wife, her Mulder has the nervous, adrenaline-fueled energy of a man kissing his partner for the very first time beyond a peck in a hospital waiting room. And his nervous energy combined with her own un-sated desires from just hours prior put them on a fast track from kissing, to making out, to him pulling her into his lap and grinding his erection against the seam of her jeans.

“Is this okay?” he mumbles against her mouth as his hands slip under her sweater.

“Uh-huh,” she assures him, moving her hips in tight circles when she finds just the right press of his erection against her clit.

Both his hands find her breasts, gently kneading and brushing his thumbs across her nipples. She’s fairly certain that if they keep this up she’s going to have an orgasm fully clothed in his lap. She’s fairly certain that she intends to do just that.

“Mulder,” she whispers, high and needy, and he groans.

Does he know? She wants him to know. Somehow, she thinks it won’t feel as good if he doesn’t. She brings her lips to his ear, circling her hips while he continues to gently pinch her nipples in the webbing between his thumb and forefinger.

“Wait, stop stop stop,” he says suddenly, pulling his hands out from under her sweater and stilling her hips. Her orgasm slips away, and the stark reality of what they are doing quickly settles in. She immediately feels ashamed and moves to get off him, but again he grabs her by the hips to stop her. “No, don’t go,” he begs. “I just…I need a minute.”

“We can stop if you want to stop,” she says, not looking at his face.

“Scully,” he says sternly, then waits until she looks at him. “I do not want to stop. Do you want to stop?” She shakes her head. “Great, then we’re on the same page. I just—this is a little embarrassing but I just didn’t want to make a mess, if you catch my drift.”

“Oh,” she says with a nervous laugh. The idea that he may have also been on the brink of an orgasm sets off a fresh wave of arousal.

“I don’t want to stop,” he says again, “but I do want to be sure that this isn’t…I don’t know, too fast? Too much too soon? I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret later.”

Scully lets out a blustering sigh.

“You’re probably right,” she says.

“So what should we do?” he asks, brushing her hair behind her ear.

“I think I should go?” she says, uncharacteristically lifting the end of her statement into a pseudo-question.

“Yeah,” Mulder agrees reluctantly.

She awkwardly removes herself from his lap, quickly averting her eyes when she sees that he is still very much erect. She walks to his front door on unsteady legs and he trails a few steps behind her. When her hand is on the knob, she turns around and looks up at him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, of course,” he answers.

Seconds tick by. Her hand is still resting on the door knob behind her back, but she doesn’t turn it.

“Goodnight, then,” she says, still unmoving.

“Goodnight.”

She turns the knob and the latch pops open, allowing a sliver of light in from the hallway. Still, she just looks at Mulder. He stares back at her, his bare chest rising and falling at a labored clip. He takes one step forward and she reflexively lifts her chin, her mouth falling partly open.

“Would it be okay if I kissed you goodnight?” he asks, and she’s already nodding emphatically before the final word leaves his mouth.

The first kiss is chaste. The second is lingering. On the third, she swipes her tongue across his bottom lip and he hums. The fourth, his hands are on her waist and the door slams closed when he presses her against it with his body. The height difference is awkward, but they are beyond motivated to compensate for it, and he alternately stoops a bit and lifts her off the ground while her calves ache from standing on her tiptoes. His stubble scrapes her chin and his eager teeth pinch her lip painfully, but she’s never been so happy to be so uncomfortable.

When he straightens up she feels the brush of his groin against her belly. The throbbing between her legs is nearly unbearable, and she knows she is past the point of self-control. If Mulder doesn’t stop this, she won’t either. She slips her fingers under the waist of his cotton pajama pants and he heaves a shuddering breath.

“What are you doing?” he asks tightly.

“Tell me to stop,” she whispers around desperate kisses.

“Fuck, I don’t want to,” he groans.

Her hand slides lower until she feels the tickle of his pubic hair against the tips of her fingers. He’s breathing so hard he’s pulling the air right from her mouth as they attempt to keep kissing, making her feel light-headed. His hands move from her hips to her ass cheeks, the grip of his fingers desperate and feral, and she is completely incapable of rational thought. She wraps her hand around his shaft, smooth and thick and warm, and his knees warble before he steadies himself with one hand against the door.

“Jesus fucking christ,” he hisses.

“I don’t want to go,” she whimpers, giving him one firm stroke.

His hands are back on her ass, kneading and pulling her pelvis against him, which makes her bump up against her own hand. He starts tugging at the waist of her jeans, fumbling with the button, then the zipper, and before she really registers what’s happening he’s wedging his hand under the stiff denim with his palm pressed against her belly. There’s no room for him to move, but she feels the brush of his fingers across her clit and an involuntary moan bubbles up from the back of her throat. Mulder’s forehead drops against the door with a loud thunk.

They stay frozen like that for a few seconds, with her hand wrapped around his cock and his fingers resting over her slick lips.

“I want you,” he breathes into her ear. The heat of his breath makes her quiver under his fingers and he groans.

“Then take me to bed,” she says, feeling bold beyond what she thought herself capable of.

He doesn’t need any time to contemplate her proposition. He withdraws his hand and she withdraws hers, and he scoops her up and carries her to his bedroom with a level of urgency befitting the situation. The room is dark save for what leaks in from the living room or around the blinds, and he sets her carefully on the floor before divesting her of her sweater. She pushes his pajama pants off his hips but they get caught on his erection, which makes her laugh. The shine of his smile in the dim room sets her at ease, and they slow down a bit. As much as they both want this, there’s no need to rush.

He lays her down on the bed and peels her jeans from her legs, leaving her panties on while he kisses the insides of her thighs. She knows that the second he touches her she’s going to come, and she’s as excited as she is nervous. He kisses as far as the seam of her leg, pulling in a deep breath through his nose that makes her self-conscious. Then he kisses her right over her panties, and a jolt of pleasure shoots through her pelvis.

“Oh my god,” she whispers.

“Is this okay?” he asks, brushing his nose back and forth across her clit.

She feels herself unraveling. She’s too far gone to stop it.

“Oh my god,” she says again.

Her hips arch up off the bed and he presses his face between her legs as an orgasm tears through her, powerful and overwhelming. She cries out, completely unable to contain it, and she feels the wet heat of his mouth directly on her pussy as she comes and comes and comes. When the height of it has passed, she looks down and sees her panties pulled to the side, and Mulder’s face buried between her thighs, eyes closed in concentration. As she slowly comes down, she feels surprised and a little embarrassed.

Mulder crawls up to the bed beside her and kisses her neck while she catches her breath.

“That was…unexpected,” she finally says, feeling her cheeks warm.

“Was it okay?” he asks nervously.

“Yes, very much so,” she reassures him. “Just not the standard order of operations, I suppose.”

Mulder chuckles a little.

“Well, you know I’m never one to do things by the book,” he says lightly, tucking his face into the crook of her neck.

“That quality about you typically annoys me, but I find myself willing to make an exception,” she quips.

He starts dropping little kisses to the side of her neck, and despite her recent release she clenches her thighs together, ready for more. She rolls to her side and finds his lips, and they just lie there and kiss for a while, completely nude save for her panties. Her hand wanders down the firm planes of his back, over his hip, and finally back to his cock, which is stiff to the point of leaking. His breathing shudders and his muscles tense as she strokes him languidly.

“I think it’s only fair that you don’t judge me for my unimpressive stamina at this point,” he says, drawing the end of the sentence out with a low moan.

“I would never,” she says, greedy to see and feel him lose control in the same way he’s seen her.

Releasing him, she wriggles out of her panties and kicks them away, then gently pushes on his shoulder. Rolling him to his back, she slowly climbs on top of him. She still feels nervous, even after what they’ve already done. She settles over his lap, sitting directly atop his shaft such that it brushes across her clit when she shifts her hips forward and back. Immediately she knows that she’ll come again if she keeps it up, and it feels embarrassing for reasons she couldn’t possibly explain. It’s like her body is telling all her secrets to his, revealing just how much she’s wanted this and for how long.

His body answers by gripping her hips to hold her steady and grinding against her. She’s folded in half, her forehead resting against his, and her mouth hanging open in overwhelm.

“Oh my god,” she breathes into his face, and he has clearly already intuited what that means for her.

“Come on,” he says softly, rutting up into her.

She lifts her hips and reaches down between them, taking hold of him and guiding him inside her. There’s a stretch, a sting, and then overwhelming pleasure. She loses herself again, sitting up and planting her hands on his chest for stability as she rides him roughly.

“Oh fuuuuuuuck,” he hisses.

His shoulders lift off the mattress, his hands still planted on her hips. She’s right there, right there on the edge, and when he starts throbbing inside her she is gone, gone, gone.

Later, she’ll blush when she thinks about how loud she was, how brazen. How greedily she continued to fuck him until he was too soft to continue. How he flipped her to her back and slipped two fingers inside her, making her come again. But in the moment, all she knows is that she has never felt so good in her life, so safe. He touches her like he’s done it a hundred times, like he knows just what she needs. And when she finally becomes over sensitive and pushes his hand away, he throws a blanket over them both and wraps his arms around her. It’s nearly 6:00 am and the hazy yellow light of sunrise signals the arrival of morning.

“We have work in a few hours,” she says sleepily, resting her head on his chest.

“I think today is a good day to play hooky,” he tells her, giving her a squeeze.

They are quiet for a few minutes, and she starts to doze off.

“I’m glad you came over,” he says quietly.

“Me too,” she agrees, tilting her head up in invitation of a kiss.

She drifts in a sea of dopamine and oxytocin for some time, slipping into sleep until Mulder sighs or shifts and reminds her that she is not sleeping alone for the first time in years.

“Can I ask you a question?” he says, pulling her back again.

“Hm?”

“The dream me, or alternate me…was he an improvement over the model in this universe?”

She props herself up on an elbow and looks at him in the hazy morning light. He looks uncertain. Vulnerable.

“Not any more than the alternate version of me was,” she says, meeting his eye. “I think we’re products of our experiences in many ways, but at the core we’re still the same people. You would still be you and I would still be me even if our lives had taken different paths, but maybe those paths were meant to cross. I don’t wish you were different, Mulder, if that’s what you’re asking.”

The corner of his mouth quirks.

“I was actually referring to the sex,” he admits sheepishly.

Scully’s mouth falls open in surprise, and then she drops her forehead against his chest to hide her face in embarrassment.

“I wouldn’t know,” she tells him, resettling herself.

“Really?” he asks in disbelief. “Not even a kiss?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Wow. It took me nearly seven years to do what that man did in a day. What’s his secret?” he asks, jostling her playfully.

“We were married, Mulder,” she says with an edge of irritation. “Can I please go to sleep now?”

“Okay, okay. Sweet dreams, Scully.”

She snorts a laugh.

“Goodnight, Mulder.”

She falls asleep surprisingly fast and is quickly pulled into the limitless world of dreams. These dreams are of the ambiguous, hazy nature she’s used to. They are non-linear and full of missing context, but when she wakes she’ll recall the twinkle of Christmas lights and Mulder’s hand on her rounded belly, and the loud bark of her father’s laugh.

Tagging @today-in-fic

[tgmsunmontue]

Another Time (Chapter 4/14)

ONE TWO THREE

Summary: Jake wakes up in Rooster's body about ~30 or so hours post-Mission and they have to deal with it. They're adults. Apparently.

(Posting on Tumblr, chapter a day until it's complete (currently 14 chapters already written), after it's complete I will post it on AO3 once a day until it's completed there as well).

                The travel back passes in a fugue state, too long to be anything other than exhausting. He’s sitting beside Coyote who had just passed him Hangman’s packed duffel with a smirk and Bradley had taken it gratefully. He’s gone through the absolute emotional wrecker in the last seventy hours and he’s pretty sure the only reason he’s not falling apart is because his physical injuries are currently not something he needs to worry about. They’ve just ticked past the twenty-four hour marker and he’s ready to give this some serious thought. He somehow wants to get Hangman back to his place, both actual Hangman and the body of Hangman. He’s trying to formulate reasons, excuses or a plausible story when he realizes that they’ve landed and disembarking. Phoenix and Bob are shepherding/supporting Hangman and Rooster scrambles to follow, throwing the duffel over his shoulder.

                “Rooster!”

                “He needs to go to the hospital,” Phoenix snaps and Bradley frowns, because he knows that.

                “Yeah, I was going to take him there and then take him home.”

                “Home?” Phoenix asks him, one eyebrow raised and Rooster realizes then that Hangman would have no idea that he has a house off-base.

                “Yeah, he gave me his keys,” Bradley says, and it’s an outright lie because he pocketed them automatically when he’d packed his duffel earlier but it suits the moment, although he can tell Phoenix is suspicious, although the fact he pulls the keys from his pocket adds credence to his claim. Hangman looks pale and sweaty and Bradley wonders if the ibuprofen he had twenty-four hours ago was the last time he had painkillers, the vibrations in the COD wouldn’t have helped anything. “He’s under strict orders to go directly to the hospital…”

                “He is. And I will take him there.”

                “Oookay. Yeah. Sure,” Bradley agrees, because he learnt long ago not to argue with Phoenix. “I’ll get a lift back to his place and then meet you at the hospital with his car so I can bring him home.”

                It’s a compromise, and Hangman isn’t known for being so accommodating but this places him in his own fucking house, able to look after Hangman as he suffers the pain of dealing with Bradley’s body post-mission and he’ll take his wins where he can. He watches Maverick trail after them and wonders if Ice has directed him to have a full check-up as well. Hopefully anything Hangman says can be put down to pain, exhaustion or being drugged to the gills; because he expects that to happen. Drugs that is.

                He returns the hug Coyote gives him, tells him he’ll see him soon, and they have a further debrief tomorrow, although he has no idea how that’s going to work when he has no idea what the fuck Hangman was doing while he was chasing after Mav… Fuck. Hangman having to try and justify his actions without knowing anything. Ugh. What a shit show. He’s glad someone is driving him and is even gladder when he’s standing outside his childhood home, the sense of homecoming still there despite the emptiness. He takes the time to shower, shaves and tries (and suspects he fails miserably) at styling Hangman’s hair before heading to the hospital. He’s not got many options in terms of clothes in Hangman’s duffel, but dark jeans and one of his own Henley’s make him feel a little more comfortable. He’s off the clock.

                He gets to the hospital and follows the instructions to the fracture clinic, where both Mav and Hangman are being seen. Phoenix is sitting in the waiting room, and he makes himself comfortable in the chair beside her.

                “They good?”

                “Both had x-rays, and then Mav mentioned that some of his injuries were probably old, from a different ejection a few weeks ago. Bradley vommed everywhere, so they drugged him up with anti-nausea and some morphine. His ankle is fucked and the way they were talking about it was making me feel queasy so I excused myself.”

                Bradley doesn’t even know where to start with that flood of information. TWO ejections. Fucking hell. And his ankle is apparently fucked, which doesn’t tell him anything. He pats Nat on the shoulder and murmurs about going in to check on them and she mutters a good luck under her breath, clearly thinking him a fool. He pushes the door open and both Mav and Hangman look to him.

                “Looking good Hangman…” Hangman slurs and Bradley wonders if he’s even aware right now of what he’s saying and who to. Bradley starts the automatic reply though, feeling near hysterical amusement bubbling through him.

                “I am good Rooster, – ”

                “Too good to be true,” Hangman finishes and Bradley throws back his head and laughs.

                “Man, you are high.”

                “He sure is. Was talking about the time he fell off a horse and broke his arm as a kid. He’s never ridden a horse.”

                Bradley nods and smiles, feeling a little manic, because Seresin probably has ridden a horse. He wants to ask Mav how he is, but he’s not him right now. Fortunately the doctor enters the room and she’s looking between the three of them.

                “Are you here to take him home?” She asks, gesturing toward Hangman.

                “Yeah, is he good to go?”

                “As good as we can get him. We’ll want to do another CT in 24 hours once the swelling has gone down further.”

                “Too good to be true…” Hangman mumbles and Bradley’s lips twitch.

                “Are you staying with him?”

                “Uh. Yeah. He’s, we’re, uh… yeah.”

                Fuck. Mav is watching them both, soft smile on his face and Bradley wants to offer… something. Anything. Whatever he says though is not going to come across right, is going to cement firmly whatever assumptions Mav is making about him and Hangman. Which might not actually be misplaced in a few months’ time but right now… it’s just too much. He takes the discharge papers and listens to the instructions about pain meds, concussion protocols and asks for a pen so he can make a few notes. Says he can pick up the script easily enough. Or even ask Phoenix to do it.

                He can worry about Mav later.

FIVE

[oxygenbefore1775]

Reiner strikes me as a not-mad-just-disappointed type

pairing: reiner x gn!reader

wc: 0,6k

No matter in which way you fucked up exactly. Maybe you came home late at night black-out drunk or went against his advice and spent all of your shared budget to buy your dream house from that "totally not scam-y" looking real estate agency (the price seemed to good to be true, especially given the photos) — Reiner never gets angry with you.

This time you call him from a police station, asking him to bail you out. You are terriefied to hear him sigh at your request on the other side of the cable — you can almost see him pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. The are no follow-up questions, zero attempts to find out what the fuck landed you in a cell whatsoever. Reiner just calmly asks you to give him the address of the police station.

The silence in the car is almost deafening as Reiner drives both of you home. His eyes are focused on the road and so are yours because you're too ashamed to look at him directly.

"So-o," you finally decide to speak up in an attempt to learn just how bad your current position is, "How was your day today?"

"That was very irresponsible of you," Reiner's voice is calm and robbed of any expression.

Shifting his gaze from the road, he looks at you for the first time since picking you up. His face doesn't betray any glint of emotion except for utter tiredness. You curse under your breath. But of course your carelessness left him restless and he ended up stressing himself out to the point of exhaustion. Heat flushes yor cheeks and the tips of your ears as the guilt sets in. You almost wish he started screaming at you and accusing you angrily (and rightfully so) — anything to be relieved from the silent pressure of his heavy gaze.

"Are you mad at me?" you ask bluntly, now wanting to beat around the bush regarding his state of mind.

A silent sigh falls past his lips as Reiner's grip on the steering wheel grows tight.

"At you? No. Just disappointed."

The words put a downcast look on your face.

"But I'm rather mad at myself," Reiner adds after a moment of hesitation.

You turn to him in surprise. Reiner's shoulders visibly slump as he notices your intent gaze on him. He's already regretting saying too much.

"It's just—" Reiner starts hastily with an explanation, "Everytime you do something like that I always blame myself. Was I too inattentive? Too slow to prevent your mistake? What kind of partner am I if I can't look after you?"

Flustered by his words, you furrow your brows in concern. You place a hand on his knee and start rubbing circles on it in a soothing motion.

"It's not like you are responsible for my fuckups. All the fault for my actions rests on my shoulders only."

You tilt your head with each word as if trying to hammer in the message. Reiner purses his lips as his attention is divided between you and driving. Rewarding him with a tooth-rotting smile, you carrry on.

"But if my antics upset you so much," instinctively Reiner replies with a curt nod which manages to squeeze a soft chuckle out of you, "I can't promise I'll stop fucking up but I can at least try stop fucking up"

For the first time during your conversation, you notice familiar warmth filling Reiner's gaze as he lays his hand atop your palm.

"I'll take it," he responds with softness to his voice that you've became so used to.

[ijuststareatstuffhereok89]

Animated Women Who Could Kick Sylvie's Arse in a Fight

After seeing International Women's Day littered with Sylvie admiration (making me want to puke), I asked myself "how many Disney animated characters written for children are better role models for girls, and how many of them could kick Sylvie's ass in a fight?

Esmeralda (Hunchback of Notre Dame)

Sylvie's got the standard tragic backstory about growing up on her wits, but Esmeralda used her time in an less-than-ideal life to develop her street smarts and fight for her people (not just herself). She has an entire population in her corner, which she earned through entertaining her community and being a helpful, contributing member of society, not pitying herself and using her situation for petty revenge.

Esmeralda vs Sylvie wouldn't be a contest. Even with her opponent having magic, Esmeralda is a great improviser, and has the ovaries to go up to the Captain of the Guard with a candelabra and engage him in combat.

Princess Kida (Atlantis: The Lost Empire)

Kida's already a warrior and proficient in combat, so strength isn't an issue. She's got more passion and drive than Sylvie, and she has the added component for being open-minded and asking for help from outsiders, which means she is more trusting and more likely to have backup. She's also selfless and has the skills of a leader. She probably would've met Loki and asked for his input constantly, working together instead of against each other. She also admits her shortcomings for the good of the task at hand (I cannot see Sylvie admitting she can't read).

Kida would out Sylvie in her place with all-around better planning and strategy.

Mulan (Mulan)

I don't think I need to explain this one. Sylvie fucking wishes she were Mulan.

Non-Disney Honorable Mention: Literally ANY girl/woman from Avatar: The Last Airbender

Sylvie wouldn't have a prayer in a TLA/Loki crossover. Bear in mind, most of the female characters in TLA are no older than sixteen. Each one not only uses the support of the others on their team to accomplish their goals. Katara knows how regulating emotions and being in touch with reason can make one a better fighter, Toph doesn't let ANYTHING get in her way, her response to trouble usually being "lol hold my beer", Azula is a master strategist, plus they all are literal teenage globe-trotters, making them exceptionally resourceful.

Also, Katara lost her mom, Toph had to run away from a non-supportive family, Ty Lee was one in seven and had to constantly fight for her own identity, and Korra was literally tortured, nearly assassinated several times over, and spent YEARS suffering from PTSD and trauma...and you didn't see any of them become self-pitying, rash revenge-seekers who secretly just want to be loved.

Hell, Sylvie could be beaten by four-year-old Korra.

The list is far from exhaustive. The fact that I thought of these examples without even trying says how much Sylvie really is worth, and why people who raise her up as a "better Loki" or a "girl boss Loki" can suck my nards. Nickelodeon wrote better women.

Anyone care to add to the list?

[heaveninfrench]

*art isn’t mine but credit to rightful owner* *minors DNI*

*mentions of arguments, yelling, screaming. No physical fighting. Breaking up, heart break, pregnancy, labor. Some nsfw. Sex.*

Alejandro has been nothing but stressed through out work. Work follows him home and he’s more stressed. You have been a saint through all of his stress, helping him in anyway, shape, and form. Unfortunately Alejandro has been more stressed than usual. And he usually looses it and takes it out on you and doesn’t realize it. (No he would never hit you, or hurt you. His emotions get the best of him.) A lot of the time it hurt, but you never brought it up because you didn��t want to add to his plate.

Yet another stressful day passes by and he has an attitude of an angry bull.

“Alejandro honey. Can you talk to me and tell me what’s going on? I know your stressed and upset. And I’m tired of seeing you upset. I just want to help and make you feel better. You don’t have to explain everything, just the important of what’s stressing you.”

He stood up with a menacing glare. “If you’re so fucking tired of my attitude, then go suck someone else’s dick! Gawd I’m so tired of you constantly asking what’s going on when you know it’s all work! It’s nothing but fucking work!” He was panting after his little yelling rant. You were taken aback as to how he yelled at you. Tear pricked you eyes as you quietly asked “do you want me to leave?” He sat in his chair and lit up a cigarette over his desk and looked back at his paper work “please get the fuck out. I’m tired.” You grabbed all of your small belonging (you didn’t have much at his apartment) and left without a word.

Leaving his apartment, you got into your car and drove back to your condo by the beach. Pulling into the drive way, you picked up your phone and blocked Alejandro from everything. His socials, numbers, emails, changing your screen saver back to your cat. You took a moment to breathe and walked inside. You put all of your small belongings back and sat down on your couch with your cat and cried. But soon your sadness was replaced with anger. Going to the garage, you took anything and everything that was Alejandro’s and put it into your car, everything in your condo, in your car. Everything of his, was in your car and you took it back to his apartment and carefully and quietly packed it all back into his truck. Feeling satisfied to have everything gone, you drove back yet again to your condo and cleaned out more of the garage so you could turn it into a little work shop for the car. You may be a beautiful woman, but you worked like the hands of a dirty man. Ordering anything and every part for your little 2008 jeep patriot (I have that car and I absolutely love my little blaze!! I know it’s old but he’s does his job!) from a serpentine belt, radiator, water pump, all the essentials. Feeling even better with how you ended your day, you unfortunately had to work tonight. You worked at the hospital as an RN (registered nurse for the babes who don’t know 😉) on the base because your mother was a nurse there and your father was a 5 star general.

It was a hell-filled night at work passing meds, helping the CNA’s with patients and residents, charting who did what at what time, who took a dump, pissed at how many milligrams, and so forth. You were depressed and exhausted with all that was going on. You just wanted to go home and sleep.

Alejandro wasn’t taking this any easier. He tired looking you up on all social platforms, your number, email, texted your number but would always get a text back “this number currently isn’t available.” He knew he lost you, and it was breaking his heart. He wants nothing more than to reach out and apologize and hug and love you. You were always a saint to him and loved him unconditionally. He knew he had anger issues like his father and he hated that he was slowly becoming him. This cycle needed to stop and he was going to get the help he needed. He tried to reach out to you, but he found nothing, even going to your condo you always parked outside but he never saw your car. Even when he asked for your name at the hospital on base you worked at, the staff would always tell him you’re busy. He was starting to lose hope. Where were you? The next couple of months were going to be the hardest for him.

Your period was 3 days late, but you weren’t freaking out. “I’m probably just stressed from working nights. Fuck it, I’ll give it the rest of the week.” You said to yourself as you closed the app that tracks your periods. Sighing in a little stress you pull your scrubs back up and get to work.

Time skip because I’m a lazy gurl

4 months ago you found out you were pregnant. You remember crying on the bathroom floor with the little white stick that had two pinks lines confirming it all. You had already prepared a little nursery for your little baby. A mahogany wooden crib, apple wood changing station, and an antique dresses with a bunch of other essentials for the babes in you. You got paid recently from work and decided to go grab a couple of things for you for once, there was a lot of good brands in the makeup aisle in target, you saw a familiar pair of eyes in the grooming section for men, walking away just right enough to act as if you didn’t see him. You were panicking on the inside.

“(Name)?” The baritone voice sounded concerned

“O-oh hi Mr. Price. It’s been a while…”

“Hi there, goodness it’s been some time… how have things been?” He loved you like his own. He was the only one that knew about anything between you and Alejandro. None of the other members in the 141 task knew anything about you other than that you were a nurse who had a sense of humor in the hospital.

You wanted to hug him and sob like a little girl who just got her heart broke. You blinked back a couple of tears and took a deep breath. “Well, do you want the harsh beautiful truth? Or a lie as magical as soaps Mohawk still standing after taking off his helmet?”

Price let out a bellowing laugh “I missed you and soap would go at each other whenever he was in the hospital, even when he was getting a simple shot! Or the time he screamed like a little girl when all you did was rub an alcohol wipe on him!” He wheezed out.

“I remember it as clear as day! That was an alcoholic wipe! *mimicing soap* I don’t care, it still huwrt!” You and price both shared a laugh

“But seriously (name), how are you. And well… how is…” he looks down at your small but prominent baby bump.

“… it’s been a little rough, we’ll really rough. Hey I brought a new coffee maker but I haven’t had a chance to put it to work yet, when you have a day off would you like to come over? And I don’t mean that in an inappropriate manner I mean just to to talk an-“

“It’s ok Name, I know exactly what you mean. I actually have the day off today. We just came back from a mission a few days ago. Is that ok with you? And I could help put the groceries away for you, I don’t want you stressing yourself.” He gently puts his hand on your shoulder in a caring manner.

“Oh that would be great Mr. Price, I really appreciate that.”

“You don’t have to call me Mr. Price out of work Name, John will do”

“Oh…ok! You said a little awkwardly not knowing how to respond to that.

“Sorry, I know that was awkward and out of the blue.” He scratched the back of his head.

“Oh it’s fine, I wasn’t expecting it haha. Anyways I’m going to look at a few more products and then be done.” You express excitedly like a little kid

“That’s alright” he chuckled. “What are all these products for? I see a few makeup brands but what are the others?” He said curiously

“A few are really good skin care products and some essential vitamins, oils, for hair and skin. What do you use for skin products? And shampoo?”

He took the basket from you to hold “let me carry that for you, it looks a little heavy. And to answer your question, just a bar of dove for my face and old spice.”

“Oh thank you, and dove is a good brand, but do you know that old spice nearly has the same ingredients as dishwasher soap?” You asked concerned

“I beg your pardon? Really? Should I stop using them? Are there other brands I should stop using and looking into new ones?” He wondered

“ I don’t remember the exact brands, but anything with sulfates, fragrances and natural fragrances, phthalates, parabens, and triclosan. Those are not good for your hair. More than anything I would recommend either doctor Squatch, Pantene, or dove. Not only is it good for your hair but great for the skin too.”

“(Name), how come you’re not a dermatologist, or hair stylist, you seem to know so much about these things with hair and skin.” He spoke amused.

“Well I was actually about to enroll into a beauty school here in town but then I… well found out that I was… you know… plus I didn’t want to risk like finding out if I was allergic to any of the products and then have something effect me or the baby. I wouldn’t forgive myself if anything effected the baby before it’s born.” You said as you placed a hand on your bottom abdomen.

“That’s very tough and thoughtful of you (Name). You’re already putting your baby first before you, you’ll make a great mom.” He kindly said with a soft smile.

You both finished up grabbing your items after shopping together, then drove to your condo by the beach. John brought in your groceries while you put them away. You were getting the coffee make ready and John saw the machine.

“Ooo one of the fancy ones!” He chuckled excitedly

“Right?! I frickin love this thing! I can make regular coffee, frap and cappuccinos, these a little ice blender if I wanted to make something iced, and best part! A steamer to throf the milk!” You giggled like a little girl

“You put my rinkidy-dinkidy coffe maker to shame” John chuckled

“I’m sorry but not sorry” you giggled sarcastically “but anywho, what can I make you?”

“You seem to know what you’re doing with this little machine, surprise this old man.” He smiled

You whipped your head towards him “how old are you?

“37.”

“You’re not old, old is considered your 80’s! You’ve got hella time on you!”

“Oh, well now I don’t feel as old” he had a happy little smile on his face. (His smiles, gawd take me now!)

“You shouldn’t you old man.” You said teasingly in a not flirting way

“I!- uh!- be quiet I was 17 when you were born!!” He laughed

“Awww John you make feel so young!” You laughed

You both had a nice laugh as a comfortable silence sat between you. As you finished making the coffee for the both of you and adding some creamer, you both got cozy and sat on the couch.

“So how have things been for you and the team?” You took a sip while asking John

“Things have been a little rough, our last mission was rough but successful. I managed to get away with a few scratches.” He sighed

“How is the rest of the team?” You sounded concerned

“Soap is ok, though he nearly broke his wrist. Gaz has some radiation burns that their treating him for. Simon nearly got his jaw broken from an enemy attack. Rudy was shot a few time but should make a quick recovery…” he pressed his lips into a thin line.

“And, Alejandro?…” you heart was racing saying his name

“I didn’t know if you wanted to hear about him considering all of what’s been happening between you two. Is he aware of anything going on? With you or the pregnancy?”

“No.” Tears pricked your eyes. “I’ve wanted to, trust me I do. But every time I think about it, I get so angry over the last thing he said to me. And it’s so stupid, it’s been 4 months and I’m still so angry at him but I still love him at the same time. You wiped the tears before they fell from your somber eyes

John looked at you with a sadden expression. “I know kiddio, it’s hard to let go of the past and pain. But you know he still loves you right?”

“He does? Is he ok?” You asked as your hand rested against your face with a worried expression.

“Well how much do you want to hear? Before the mission, or after?” He asked concerned

“Both please.” You choked out.

He took another sip of his coffee and spoke “he was devastated when you broke up. He wanted to reach out and tell you he never meant what he said. Keep in mind, this is what he’s told me and all that I’ve heard from him. He went to go see someone as to why he lashes out so often and it turns out that he has ADHD. That’s something you have right?”

“I do, I’m on a non-stimulant for it, because it’s side effects are ones related to anxiety. Mine just basically levels out of my emotions. But anyways about him?” (Note: this is based off of my experience with mine. I either get distracted or have tunnel vision with a certain subject)

“He’s on a non-stim as well. He’s leveled out a lot more. And he’s been keeping himself in check. From what I recall he’s been and still is grieving over losing you. He carry’s a small picture of you in his wallet. (Name) he’s been hell without you. He doesn’t sleep or eat when he should. He loved you so much.” John gently placed a hand on your shoulder

“H-how was he after the last mission?” Hold back the sobs that dared to leave your throat

“Alejandro suffered the most out of all of us. He will be in the icu for a couple of days and then put into the main part of the hospital. He’s suffering from cracked ribs, the right bottom one broken. Respiratory problems from smoke and gas. He had a lobectomy today to clean the gunk out. Shot in hug thigh-“

He was interrupted by the sounds of you sobbing. You set you coffee down and cried.

John pulled you into a hug and rubbed your back.

“O-oh John!” You sobbed “I- I got- ah-“

“Shh shh shhhhhh, let it all out and take a breath kiddio. It wasn’t easy to say that either.”

“What should I do?” You sobbed into his shoulder.

“I’m not going to tell you what to do, because that is not my place, but I want you to think about this for a while. I want you to decide on what is good for you. But really take your time.”

You sniffled and wiped your face “you’re right, I’m so sorry.”

“For what? You’re in a stressful moment in life and you needed a moment to vent and let yourself go for a minute. There’s nothing wrong for feeling the way you do. I’m always going to be here for you. And all the others. I’m glad that we had this moment to talk and see how you’re doing.” As he finished the rest of his coffee you talked a bit more with you about life, he had to go back to his place and feed his cat.

“Thank you for the coffee by the way, it was really good! I might invest into that little machine of yours.” He smiled wholeheartedly

“Definitely will be the best investment of your life. Thank you for coming over. It meant a lot.”

You both hugged and said your goodbyes as he drove away. You went back inside and took a shower, used your new skin care products, put on a little mascara, and changed into your scrubs for work.

As you came into work, you were stationed in the ICU. Great. Just your luck. You wanted to deal with Alejandro, just not now. The day shift nurse came by the talk to you.

“Hey so the run down, their all good for the most part and are doing ok. 119 over there will be our most intense care.” She whispered “he’s from the 141 team.” “Gotcha.” You replied. “Anyways I’m going home and having a margarita!~” she chimed “go home you alcoholic” you joked.

The CNA came up to you “Hi (Name) how’s it going today?

“It’s going alright. How’s school?”

“It’s going pretty good! My grades are still up and going and I think the guy I like, likes me back!”

“Don’t get in bed with him, you’ll regret it.” You joked.

“Oh I know, I didn’t plan on it.”

*ding ding ding* 119

The cna left to go see what he needed. “Hey Mr. Vargas would like some pain meds.”

“Let me check and see what he’s on. You checked him meds as he was one some pretty strong medication. You put a few pills in the cup and handed it to the cna.

“I can’t give him that. I’m just a cna.”

“Sweetheart, it’s ok as long as I say it’s ok. I’m entrusting this to you.”

“Oh ok.” She walked back into his room

“Hi Mr. Vargas, the nurse gave me this to give you.” She popped the pill into his mouth and gave him some water to sip on. “I also see that you’re scheduled a bed bath tonight, would you like that done at a certain time?”

Alejandro sat and thought for a minute. “I’m sorry but can someone else do it? I know that you’re a minor and this is your job, but it doesn’t feel right that someone your age to do that to me. And I don’t mean any ill will when I say that.”

“None taken sir. I can swap places with another cna who’s a guy on the other court of the hospital. And I appreciate that you take my age into consideration sir.” She said politely

“I suppose. Can the nurse do it? Who is the nurse?” He asked weakly

“(Name) but I wouldn’t recommend her doing it because she’s pregnant. I don’t want to put her stress on her body. I have a big soft spot for pregnant women.”

“Oh…s-she’s what?”

“She’s pregnant sir.”

“I-… please… I need to see her.” Tears pricked his eyes

“O-oh yes sir.”

The cna left Alejandro’s room to come back to the nurses station. “Hey Mr. Vargas would like to see you.” A sigh escaped your lips “I have to flush out his IV’s anyways a get a blood sample.”

You grabbed a couple of syringes of saline solution and a needle with a few viles. You slowly took a deep breath before you walked in. As soon as you walked in, you wanted to cry. You saw him in such pain and misery. He was on oxygen with a brace around his chest. Stitches here and there. He looked so drained and tired. The minute his eyes landed on you, he saw it all. The way your bump was sticking out, how much fuller your hair has gotten, you were glowing in his eyes. His poor tired eyes, they started to water.

You were in the middle of flushing his IV when he tried to speak but you cut him off.

“I know you’re processing a lot, and that it’s been a while. But for right now you have to rest. Shh shh shhh. I’m going to poke your other arm for a blood sample, bare with me.” You calmly said when your heart is racing 100 miles an hour. You felt terrible as you saw Alejandro wince in pain sticking him with a needle. “I’m sorry Alejandro.” You spoke softly as he looked at you.

He was struggling to breath, you turned up his oxygen to help as he tried to speak. “I-“ he inhaled painfully “I’m so-“ he coughed

“Shhh shhh shhhhh Alejandro” you spoke softly “there is a time and place for everything, but right now my main concern is that you rest. Please?”

“But m-“ he winces “(Name) I agh-“

“Alejandro please.” You punched the bridge of your nose and sighed in frustration. He reached and slightly grasped the sleeve of your under armor shirt. The look in his eyes, so sad, so lost. He tugged you closer. You reluctantly sat next to him. The tears welling in your eyes seeing the pain he in.

“Oh Alejandro.” You sobbed as you held his hand closer to your heart.

“How-“ he swallowed the spit in his mouth to which you grabbed the cup on a small table, he slowly dipped the water from the straw before he spoke again. “How long? How long have I missed?” His hand left yours heading for your swollen abdomen.

As tears poured from your face, a manageable “4 1/2 months” left your lips. His face was turning red from holding back sobs that didn’t dare to leave his throat. “Oh my love” he choked “I have no excuse for anything that I have said in the past. Or my actions for that matter too… you have every right to be upset with me. But I promised I’ve been working on myself. To be better for you. B- but please, don’t take this away from me. I had no idea as of today until now. Don’t hide this from me. This is us, our love. I’d do anything to have you b-back. It broke me when I couldn’t find you. I hated myself for the way I treated you.” He started to cry and it broke your heart. Taking a tissue, you wiped his eyes and his nose. You still loved him, and you needed him.

“Oh Alejandro.” You wiped your eyes. “I never stopped loving you. It was just hard. But I need you, our baby needs you. A-and I want to try again with you.” As you wiped his eyes again, he grabbed your hands with a small smile spread across his face “thank you, you have no idea how much this means to me. I promise I will be the best for you and nothing else.” He paused “do you know the gender by chance?” His thumb rubbing the side of your stomach softly. You gently placed your hand on his and the other you used to lean back on the bed. “No, I wanted to be surprised at the end.” He nodded his head in agreement.

“Will you let me back in?” He asked looking at you In wonder “into your life, into our child’s?”

You nodded your head slowly.

“Oh my love.” He kissed your hand multiple time. “Thank you! I can’t express how much this means to me.” He just needed to reassurance that you wanted him and he was so happy that you did.

Your pager went off, signaling that you were needed somewhere else. “Get some rest hun. You’ll need it.” You placed a kiss on his hand and carefully placed it down on the bed. A small smile graced his lips. “Will you come back?” He asked

“I’ll come back either when I have time of after my shift. And I’ll have my cna swap places with the other cna on the other side of the hospital so he can give you a bed bath.” You walked away to go treat other patients.

~~~~~~~~

After your shift you came back to Alejandro’s room, he looked so much cleaner and more alert. He had a smile as soon as you entered. “How was the rest of your shift?” He asked, his voice filled with care. “It was tiring but all good.” You replied tiredly. “How are you and our little baby?” He placed his hand on your stomach. “I’m sore but that’s normal. And the baby is fine.” You take his hand and placed it on your lower abdomen. “If you push just a little hard enough you can feel the head.” He stares in shock and wonder as he feels all over your abdomen. “Our strong little angel.” he whispers. “You must be tired my love, go home and get some rest.” He caressed your face. A small kiss was placed on his palm. “Alrighty my dear. Please get some more rest.” You got up ready to leave “anything for you my love.” He watched you walk away.

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

Over the next month Alejandro was getting the therapy and help he needed. He was getting better day by day and was feeling great! And over that month he saw you, he saw his child in you grow more and more while you look so beautiful. Your hair is much fuller, skin is particularly glowing, and the baby bump, so round,soft, and yet beautiful all at the same time. Alejandro asked price for paternity leave from work for a long while. He moved in with you at your condo and tried helping out around but because he was still healing you only let him do the bare minimum.

“Honey I want to do more around here.” He expressed “I know Alejandro but you’re still healing.” You said concerned “yes but you’re 6 months pregnant and you can’t be straining yourself like this. I just want to make sure you’re okay… I need you to be ok.” A concerned look crossed his face. You pulled him into a hug and rubbed his back in circular motions. “Honey you know I know my limitations, and I’ll stop when I need to.” You looked into his soft honey amber eyes. “I know. I just worry a lot.” He ran his fingers through your hair. There was a soft comfortable silence in between you two. He pulled you closer, his eyes drinking in your beauty. Pulling himself closer and closer to you. Your lips touched. The very first kiss you’ve both had in months in between each other. The most intoxicating kiss you’ve ever had. He pulled away only for a quick second but came back smashing his lips against yours. You gladly expected it, running your fingers through his hair. His callused hands running all over your back and front. You’re moaning into the kiss. He pulled away, his eyes sickly love drunk looking at you.

“Can I still make love to you in this stage of your pregnancy? I don’t want anything to hurt the baby.” He expressed with concern.

“Yes my dear, you can still do it.”

“Are you sure it won’t hurt the baby?”

“Not at all.”

“Wait…how so?”

“Because during penetrative vaginal sex, the baby is protected by the placenta, the amniotic sac, and the mucus plug.”

“…we’ll now I don’t feel as nervous, but I will be gentle.” He gave you a devilish smirk.

He picked you up and started walking to your bedroom. “Alejandro you shouldn’t be picking me up!” You claimed worriedly. “My love, I’m fine. You worry too much.” He set you down on the bed, his lips finding yours again. His rough hands roaming through your body. Your finger tips touched the hem of his shirt, hinting you wanted it off. He gladly took it off showing his chiseled hairy chest. He took off your shirt, taking your legs over his shoulders and lifting you up to pull off your pants and thong. Showing your smooth, waxed [because you couldn’t shave anymore] pink pretty pussy. He kissed you again, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, taking in every inch. His hands found the back of your bra, unclasping it swiftly. Your breast fill with buoyancy. You were an angel in his eyes. “Oh my love, you are just as beautiful.” He sighed in awe. Placing his arms over your swollen stomach, he placed multiple kisses all over, rubbing every inch. “Papa loves you my little dear.” He whispered to your belly. You smiled at this interaction, so sweet to see. You knew he absolutely loved and adored the life inside you. He made his way back to your lips, around your jaw, down to your breast. He loved playing with them and squeezing them, leaving hickies and love bites. Peppered you in soft kisses around your swollen belly, then down to your pussy. He kissed your sweet smelling pussy, teasing you in the process, licking over your soft smooth folds, fingering you non stop, he kissed your clit so softly, before devouring you like it was his last meal. Your moans and cries in ecstasy was music to his ears, and his dick. Once he knew for sure you came, he looked up at you, wiping your juices off his lips, a smug smile on his face, it was his turn to serve you. He made his way back up to your lips, careful not to put any weight on your baby bump, tapping the tip of his hard erect dick on your sweet soft raw downstairs lips. He carefully slipped himself in. For every inch he put in, he would pull out and go deeper, just to tease you but also to make sure you stretch out. “Oh my sweet love, your so tight~” he groaned. Pumping himself in and out over and over again, filling you to the brim just full of him. All your little mewls and cries of pure satisfaction made him just want to pleasure him more. He took one last final pump and released himself into you. A growl leaving his lips. A moan leaving yours.

He flopped to the side of you, placing a hand on your stomach. You’re both panting after the sweet moment. He smiled and placed a hand on your cheek. “Let me clean you up my love”, he took you to the shower where you both took a moment to clean up. After the relaxing shower, you started to do your skin care routine as he looked at all the bottles you bought, seeing a lot of the oils and lotions were for your belly, he rubbed them into his hands and into your swollen pregnant belly, peppering in kisses as you cleaned, washed and moisturized your face.

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

Over the next couple of months, you both took time to prepare more for the baby’s room, getting more clothes for when it’s growing out of it’s little baby clothes, diapers, decorating around the room more. It was perfect, Alejandro got little stuffed animals to lay in the crib, and he noticed something. On the night stand of the crib was a picture of when you and Ale first met. The fine print at the bottom of he frame said “Made with love” it made his heart flutter. You had just come back up stairs with the last load of laundry for the baby, you saw him looking at the picture and smiled.

“Do you remember how we first met?” He asked

“It’s a bit of a blur but yes.” You replied

The 141 task team all liked you, and they had a competition that who ever had the greatest pickup line that made you laugh the most, would take you on a date.

Alejandro walked up to you, pulling you into a soft hug. “Are you a microwave? Because mmmmmmmmmm you look good!” That was exact online he used on you that made you laugh the most. You rolled your eyes, laughing at that same line.

“I’m surprised that even worked on you.” He had a soft grimace on his face. “I remember I was giving you a shot that day for influenza, and it was so bad I was wheezing.” You laughed. “And here we are, with a little bundle of joy, due any day now.” He was looking at you in awe. “Yea if you’re kid wasn’t as stubborn as you and actually come on it’s due date.” Placing your hands on your very swollen abdomen. “You’re just one week past your due date my dear, and you still feel the baby moving right?” He asked “yes, it just feels like I’m constantly having my bladder pressed on or my lungs being kicked at.” He nuzzled his head into your swollen stomach, “anytime soon my love, we want to meet you so badly.” He lifted your shirt, rubbing and kissing all over your heavenly pregnant body.

The next day you finally started experiencing false labor pains, a sign your body was getting ready. Fucking finally! You were in and out with pain going through your body here and there. You couldn’t sleep at all during the nights while Alejandro slept like a king. Sometimes you wanted to put a pillow over his face and yell “if I’m staying up, you’re staying up with me!”. But you were nice, and you didn’t. During the times you couldn’t sleep you were always doing something around the condo you two lived in. Sometimes he’s catch you and yell at you “you should be sleeping, what are you doing at 2 am in the kitchen?” “Baking.” “Why?” “Because I can’t sleep, go back to bed.”

You couldn’t take the pain anymore. “Alejandro. We need to go to the hospital. This pain is too much.” You groaned. He picked you up with out a word and placed you into the passenger seat of his suv. He went back inside to grab the baby bag and the car seat. He strapped in the car seat and set the baby bag down near your feet. As he was pulling out of the drive way, he placed his hand on your stomach. “Has your water broke yet?” He asked concerned. “No, but I feel like it will soon.” You were in pain and he felt bad. He loved you so much and the pain you had to go through to give life to his baby was killing him. You arrived at the hospital on base (the one you work at) your team was there to congratulate you and give you a couple of things for you and the baby. But as the hours came and left, hours of pushing and screaming and crying. It was all too much for you.

“I- gah- I can’t!” You cried in agony. Alejandro was in tears seeing you in so much pain. “Can we have a moment?” He asked the doctors and nurses, they left giving you two some time.

“My love, I know this is hard and your in pain. But think, your body took months, days, and hours to make this baby. This is us, this is our love. If not for you, or me. Do this for the baby.” He had some tears leave his eyes. “I can’t imagine the pain you are in right now, and I never will. You just have a couple of more pushes, they even said that the head is staring to pop out soon, and I can already tell our baby is going to have a head full of hair. I love you so much my love. You can do this, you’re nearly half way there. Our baby, our precious little baby will be here soon.” He held you close and kissed your forehead as you cried into his chest in pain. You just needed to cry for a moment before you could continue. As the doctors and nurses came back in, you started to push again feeling a ring of fire burn your vaginal nerve as you pushed. The baby was finally born and placed onto your bare chest, she laid there so fresh out of the womb, but she wasn’t crying and you began to worry, Alejandro was beginning to panic inside. The doctors rubbed her back and took a snot sucker to her nose and mouth.

There was a long inhale before you heard the most wonderful sound in the world.

“aaa *another inhale was taken* aaaAAAAA *inhale* AAAAAAAA AAAAAA”

You began to cry tears of joy, Alejandro was right next to you, tears pouring out of his eyes. The doctors eventually took her away to clean her up and run a few test on her while the nurses helped clean you up and take out our placenta. Alejandro looked as if he had just witnessed a miracle. He was in awe of you.

They came back with you baby, you were tired and asleep in bed. The nurse had Alejandro take off his shirt for skin to skin contact with his little girl. She was so fragile and tiny to his touch, he held her close, she let out soft little coos against his chest. Tears poured down his face. This was his miracle, his little girl.

[hamilgodd]

This feeling

—Is driving me crazy.—

Pairing: Lando/Oscar | Mention of Carlando

Word counting: +800

Warnings: Slight jealousy, self doubt, not a lot of dialogue.

Oscar is proud, not only of having climbed ten places; but that Lando had achieved second place. A race that had left them breathless, that had brought out the best in each of them and that in the end, everything had paid for their effort.

He feels his hands tremble and his face begin to hurt a little because of the smile he knows he carries; he observes with eyes full of happiness the podium where, bathing in champagne and with the trophy of the second place Lando celebrates. His partner, friend, confidant, boyfriend... has made a spectacular career and all his effort has borne fruit leading him to be on that podium, being admired by the whole world.

The mechanics next to him celebrate, the camera flashes blind him for a few seconds; he can hear the screams of the fans behind him while waving pennants with the characteristic orange color and Lando’s number. He deserves it; he deserves to be celebrated, loved, admired and recognized; he deserves the brilliant trophy, the kind smiles, the soft hugs; he deserves everything and Oscar is sometimes afraid.

Fear of not being enough, of not being up to his height; that at any moment the other will get up one day and realize that Oscar is not the one he wants by his side.

He can see the way they look at each other, or at least how Carlos does it. With tranquility, with tenderness, warmth, love... so much love that it is impossible to overlook it. He observes him with longing and a little mixed sadness that can be seen in the way he passes his arm over the shoulders of the lowest, in the way he attracts him and sticks him a little more to his side. It’s too much, too much; it’s painful to see because it feels right. The two of them are like pieces of a puzzle that fit perfectly, and Oscar feels like the card that no one knows where he is going.

Know the story of both of them perfectly, what they lived in their days as companions; those dreams that they never realized, that longing that was never said out loud. Lando has had no qualms about telling him, because for the Briton it is nothing more than a memory that has remained in the past, something that will never be and that no longer has a chance of happening. But Oscar can see the moment when his gaze wanders, in how he clings to Carlos with a little more strength than necessary, as if for a few seconds he misses what they never had.

The media add wood to the fire that slowly burns his heart, photograph after photograph is published on every social network you can imagine. Under the bright lights of the podium and their smiles that are reflected in the trophies they hold, they look incredible, magnificent; two potential world champions. Talent overwhelms them and Oscar feels like a zero to the left. The statements they both give at the post-career press conference, the way they end each other’s prayers or how they seem to share little jokes that only they understand don’t help either.

Everything is too much and he doesn’t want to be the person responsible for ruining the spirits.

He walks to the garage where silence reigns because the team, eager to go to celebrate, has already abandoned it. The lights are turned off and his footsteps that resonate around the place calm him slightly. He doesn’t want to think about anything he has seen, he doesn’t want to let doubts consume him for something that hasn’t happened and isn’t going to happen. But it’s tiring, living under the shadow of a ghost that lives everywhere is exhausting.

“I was looking for you everywhere” he jumps a little when he hears Lando’s voice coming from behind him “I saw that you were for the award on the podium, but I couldn’t find you after that” there is a stop of happiness still in his voice. Oscar does his best to smile without his negative emotions being present.

“Congratulations on that P2” chooses to answer instead “you made a wonderful career” there is not a trace of a lie in that statement, there is nothing more than love and adoration that seeps into his voice.

“It’s incredible, I still can’t believe it” he slightly raises the trophy he’s been carrying with one of his hands “it’s not a first place, but it feels like it is”

“Soon, I am sure that you will soon be able to win” Oscar knows that Lando is waiting with excitement and anxiety for that Grand Prix where he is proclaimed as the winner, where all the lights of the spotlights are on him to celebrate his victory. “Shouldn’t you be celebrating?”

“The mechanics have gone to dinner and Carlos has invited me to the party with his team” the Briton can see the almost imperceptible grimace that Oscar makes and the way in which it is removed uncomfortable. They haven’t been together for long, but he is proud to be able to say that he knows him almost perfectly;

He doesn’t like to see him that way, hiding what he feels so as not to overwhelm him. Lando wants to tell Oscar that he has nothing to worry about, that there is no one else; that he could never have. That those moments of uncertainty are a thing of the past and that they are going to stay there no matter how much others want to relive them. There is no space in his life for the years that have already left, there is only room for the present that he lives and the future that he longs for.

“You should go celebrate” the Australian tries to convince him but Lando has other plans in mind.

"I don’t want to leave you behind” he promises that he will do everything necessary to show Oscar how much he loves him. In addition, spending a night with the minor in his arms in that hotel room where they are staying; it sounds like the best celebration you can think of.

So this was a bit difficult to write cause I keep wandering into the angst side and I really wanted to be cute(? So, i think this is a very acceptable middle ground. I am wondering if I should do a second part(?

[variousqueerthings]

so I went off a bit about this online and offline so ok rocking up to these emotions 45 years later (or however long) than everyone else but hey you get to see someone having these emotions For The First Time In Real Time!

Hawkeye leaves the base without proper permission in a reckless bid to properly say goodbye to Trapper, because Trapper (for reasons I hc as relating to general bad mental health behaviour, similar to how when we see Hawkeye in opening s4 is even less respectful of Frank and generally “how he is perceived” than usual -- because they’re both grieving Henry’s death) Did! Not! Leave! Him! A! Note! Nor a Letter!

(he left him a kiss, which I would hazard was not intended for on the cheek, but Radar did his best but no note and Hawkeye can’t accept the lack of words, he needs those words whatever they are, however messy)

so Hawkeye drives hell or high water to catch Trapper in what to modern audiences is recognisable as the 11th hour most romantic of moments: The Airport Run, an unfailing plot-device that I have never seen fail

and then Hawkeye

FAILS the airport run

he doesn’t manage to say goodbye to Trapper, despite disobeying direct orders not to leave base, despite lying to the guards on the road, despite driving so fast he’s covered in dust (right after coming back from a large hangover and dousing himself fully-clothed in a shower)

he looks like shit, he doesn’t care who tries to stop him and

he FAILS THE AIRPORT RUN!!!**

not for any particular reason, there’s nothing that stops him. he just... was never going to be on time -- he fails it BY TEN MINUTES, and is walking around like a man in shock covered in dust from the road, repeating it to himself (ten minutes??? I missed him by ten minutes????)

* * *

and in the midst of all of these repetitions (are you sure he didn’t leave a note? nothing? ten minutes???), which, on top of Henry dying after he’d left Korea, just seems to add to the amount of senseless cruelties mounting on top of each other, he meets BJ Hunnicutt for the first time

literally as he is processing that he cannot say goodbye to Trapper, BJ appears in his pressed new uniform, and is introduced to him, and Hawkeye isn’t supposed to be there to meet him! He’s only there because of his -- and I keep stressing this -- failed airport run

if Hawkeye had been reachable on-leave instead of (from the sounds of things) being even more depressingly hedonistic, or if Trapper had left him a note instead of getting drunk for two days, he probably wouldn’t have gone there, and those actions feel like they were marinated in grief and exhaustion (+ I think of that episode of that guy who becomes paranoid after he’s discharged and so tries not to touch anything for fear of him getting injured -- I think of Henry who said goodbye and then died, probably only a week or two earlier, and then I think it’s easy to read Trapper as terrified of saying goodbye of speaking about feelings to Hawkeye, just in case saying those things mean a permanent goodbye...)

the fact that he missed him (By! Ten! Minutes!) and that it was the exact time that BJ was arriving --- that feels like fate

BJ Hunnicutt: new suit, bright and afraid and a new father and Hawkeye seizes upon the distraction, buys him a drink and decides to steal a general’s truck because their own disappeared and why the hell not! Let’s show the new guy the ropes!

and because of the timeline/confluence of events they get shot at and then stuck in a mortar shelling where BJs fancy uniform gets completely muddied and he throws up (but recovers and does his job well and Hawkeye comforts him by holding him and placing a hand on his forehead) and they help a girl who triggers a mine, and take her to a dilapidated hospital, and then they get even more drunk in a bar down the road from the unit and after that I guess they can’t become anything but inseparable, because they both just went through one of the worst days of each of their lives together

I don't think it was meant to be construed specifically as I construe it in the hindsight of 2022 (what with the Tropes in play that I don't even think existed then), but the episode really does feel like something special...

it’s as if the whole of the opening of season four is mired in reckless abandonment and incorrect decisions (Hawkeye being unreachable, Trapper leaving without a note) brought on by grief, that just quietly tears Hawkeye and Trapper apart -- he doesn’t fail because of anything, he just couldn’t have made it on-time --

only for the universe to gently offer Hawkeye the chance for a new story --

and the episode makes it very clear that the story won’t be daisies and daffodils, but he won’t be alone in it

he wasn’t on time to say goodbye to Trapper but he was just in time to welcome BJ to Korea

--

--

**Sidenote: seriously when did the airport run become one of the most well-known staples of romantic gestures? did it exist prior to this episode? I need to know if this whole sequence is done consciously invoking romantic text, or if by some mad happenstance it just retroactively not only invokes it but fucking subverts it before it even existed by having him fucking fail! I am tearing my hair out here (metaphorically, I am only tugging on it intermittently literally)

[diaries-of-d]

30-DAY GLOW-UP CHALLENGE WITH THE BEST GLOW-UP TIPS

PS: YOU NEED TO TRY THIS!

This blog post discusses a 30-day glow-up challenge that will show you precisely how to glow up.

We are great fans of pushing ourselves. Whether it’s something as simple as a regular fitness regimen or a no-spend month. It may be because we’re a bit, fine, a lot, competitive!

What Exactly Is A 30-day glow-up challenge?

To us, the glow-up challenge is a month dedicated to enhancing your fitness, health, appearance, and mental power to look and feel your best.

Even though this is one of your busiest months, it’s a great opportunity to take on a 30-day glow-up challenge.

“You might be wondering how?”

That’s correct! The more job or duties you have, the more self-care you require. Take a week or two off from self-care and watch what happens.

You begin to appear exhausted, the stress weight gain (or loss) begins, and you are also on the verge of burnout which is way harder to heal from than simple everyday tiredness.

Okay, but why only 30 days?

It’s not very lengthy, so it’s definitely doable. It’s also long enough to see benefits, but not so long that you become tired of performing the same thing over and over.

30-day challenges are very useful when attempting something new rather than staying with what you already know. A challenge might help you adjust your thinking and get out of a rut.

After completing this 30-day glow-up challenge, you will:

Feel physically better, healthier, and stronger; potentially shed a few pounds in a healthy manner; look better, prettier, and happier; and possibly form new, good habits.

We want you to understand that this is about more than just your appearance. Possessing a positive self-image and feeling “put together” undoubtedly boosts happiness tremendously.

We understand that caring for oneself may be difficult at times, especially if you are exhausted, sad, lacking drive, or apprehensive about life in general.

However, there are times when a few compassionate actions might help to alleviate negative emotions.

The Ultimate 30-Day Glow-Up Challenge

Take this 30-day glow-up challenge to improve your life in so many good ways and give yourself the most noticeable glow-up!

Get up early

Whether it’s only 30 minutes or two hours earlier than normal, try getting up early for a day and using the peaceful time to establish your objectives for the day.

A solid morning routine may really set you up for the day.

Establish a vision board

A vision board is a tool for visualising things that are made up of a collage of things that reflect your goals and desires.

The use of visualisation can help you think about, remember, and accomplish your goals more effectively.

The first rule is that there are none.

Pay attention to your gut feeling and what suits you the most. Topics including travel, hobbies, self-improvement, relationships, finances, interpersonal interactions, and health may be included on the vision board.

Then, you can add everything important to you. In addition to the photographs, you can also put sayings, ideas, affirmations, and other things that make you feel good.

As soon as you get up in the morning, take a quick check at your vision board. You will feel happier and more motivated for the remainder of the day as a result of this right away.

Increase your water intake

Water is necessary for several reasons. It helps to regulate body temperature, distribute nutrients to the organs, deliver oxygen to the cells, and remove toxins from the body.

Water is also an important ingredient in skin moisturization.

Drinking too little water might cause many health problems.

You should drink water throughout the day, not only when you’re thirsty because thirst occurs when the body does not receive enough water.

If you can’t drink plain water, try mixing it with lemon, lime, or orange slices. They have a delightfully fresh and delicious flavour. Other options include strawberries, cucumbers, mint, and so forth.

Every day, do a few quick workouts

I understand you don’t have time. Or perhaps energy. Neither do we (yet!).

However, working out is an important aspect of “glowing up.” So, even if you’re really busy, let’s be clever and make this work.

Here’s how to have a simple glow-up regimen for your lovely body:

Instead of committing to a lengthy workout once per day, arrange a few little workouts of 10-15 minutes each that you can fit in whenever you have a brief gap in your schedule. 

It adds up to 30 to 50 minutes of activity each day and is enough to make your body warm and your heart race. On days when you have more spare time, try incorporating even more of these fast fixes to get even more benefits.

This approach is particularly fantastic if you are not comfortable with your weight and find it difficult, to begin with, full workouts.

Your body will gradually become stronger if you exercise a little amount many times a day, and this will set you up for later, more demanding activities.

Begin your meditation

Meditation enhances emotional stability, lowers high blood pressure, decreases stress and anxiety, boosts creativity and inner pleasure, and increases inventiveness.

Meditation ought to be simple. Do not let the requirements to sit in a specific manner, study meditation-related materials, or attend courses deceive you.

You should meditate as you like. The importance of doing this frequently is much greater.

Apply skincare

If you don’t even use a suitable face cleanser, how are you meant to have beautiful skin? Because skincare is not like other products where the more costly it is, the better, use Cetaphil if you cannot afford a Dior cleaning.

An elaborate ten-step skincare regimen is not required. For those under 25 and over 25, a three-step skincare regimen should be sufficient; you must include a serum and an eye cream.

Please refrain from using high-quality skincare products on top of dirt; doing so will simply clog your pores and cause acne.

A face cleanser, toner, and moisturiser are the essentials. Don’t forget sunscreen if you’re heading out. READ MORE

CHECK OUT: www.diaries-of-d.com for the more amazing post.

[missmonstah]

A rough fucking day...

It all caught up at the worst moment as usual. Crying in the waiting room of the doctor's office. Embarrassing. Couldn't pull it together for nothing. Life just feels overwhelming lately. Too much big stuff to do and I feel like I'm on my own to do it. I don't want to do any of it. Play around with new meds, see new doctors, travel for new medical centers, get more surgeries. It's just too much and it feels so damn unfair. I know if I want to feel better I have to try but I'm tired of it. It's so exhausting, especially when I don't have anyone to help shoulder the burden. I really just need cuddles and hugs and a hand to hold. Someone to encourage me and help me see that it's all worth it. Someone to make it all not so scary. Because it is, it's scary. This heart stuff is scary. These symptoms are scary. And I feel like no one sees how scared I am. How hard I'm struggling. It feels very lonely. I feel very lonely. And it hit me hard today driving alone to the doctors. I want more support. I don't want to start crying again. I cried so much last year. This year has been so much easier in that regard. But I also know I've been pushing a lot back so I wouldn't want to cry. I want comfort when I cry and there is none so I try not to. There's enough stress in this house all the time. I hate to add to it. No one in this family seems to know how to handle emotions anyway. Feels hopeless to try getting the comfort I need. And I have no desire to look for a partner. As nice as the companionship and connection would be, I just don't want to deal with it. I have no patience for any more shit behavior from lying men. I just don't. It's been nice not worrying about a guy. I have enough to worry about, too much to worry about. More than a human should. Maybe that's why it's getting to me finally. It's just too much for one person. And no one gets it because they haven't lived it. They just judge me and think they know better. Really, they have no clue. They would crumble too. My goal for the month is to get in with a new therapist. I deserve it.

[queennadisa]

One: Itz-ah Mi-a, Nadi. :)

Hi, I'm Nadi.

I'm starting this blog for a number of reasons, but first and foremost, it is to identify what's important to me and use this blog as an outlet to share, and in turn hopefully inspire.

I am a business owner, as well as a server two times over, and I have a normal 8-5pm work day. This is what I do, not entirely who I am as a person, but I do revel in the opportunities to venture in open spaces where I wouldn't normally go and create something new from a perspective of being "the invited".

I'm currently on Effexor XR and my prescriptions have just doubled. In search of maintaining who I am and learning that things are a process in life in order to reach the goals I'd like to reach, I need to understand that this is going to take some time. Time is something I always worry is running out, and I always worry I don't do enough with my time. Sometimes I overbook myself and overdo myself and squeeze myself into tiny slots in the day, not happy to run over and spill into the next spot.

Lately, I've learned to take a break. Take a breather, analyze my thoughts and let them go. Sometimes they do mean something, but they don't always HAVE to mean something.

If I had it my way, in three months time I would be fluent in 5 languages, 10 programming languages, have made a comic book, two series of tarot cards, my business would lead me to quit my 9-5 and serving jobs and I would be living my best life on a beach somewhere, checking in "here and there".

But a lot of times what I'm coming to realize is that my expectations are no where near realistic, especially realistic for the lifestyle I'm living. I'm anxiety ridden and trigger happy with my emotions. I despise routines, I hate driving the same way to the market, or work, when I have to come in. I also feel like I have to be present for everything, and that leaves me with an empty glass, so most evenings, I'm exhausted and sleeping and that nap isn't going to push me or my goals any farther from inside of my mind.

What I have realized is that with taking the medication, I feel like I lose myself, and I want to stay here, I want to stay present and develop good habits to cultivate who I truly am and get to a place in life where I'm truly happy.

I know that I'm black. I know I'm female. I know I'm an artist. A free thinker. A philosopher. A note-taker. A foodie. A realist. An astrology lover..The list goes on. I'm in search to truly connect with these things and make the world a better place, but first I have to fill my glass.

For those of you who enjoy astrology, I am a gemini moon, so that may explain some airy-ness to my thoughts but also a modest and humble world view- seeing things from more than one angle. I also lack boundaries and self respect. I felt that was important to note as well. I will also include some weekly astrology updates, to see how they connect because that also interests me.

I want to talk about the business, my world events, what I'm working on, etc. etc. I want to be present, and to be documented because that scares me the most. Consistency and being found out. I like to air on the side of mystery but I feel that this is the most comfortable way for me to adapt to change and head to this new era of learning through digital experience.

I am deeply rooted to my mother and I enjoy speaking about trauma and family ties. I again will try not to get too personal. Whether this reaches one person or a million people, hopefully it will give someone a reason to think in a different way or make positive changes and choices.

Another add-on. If it's weed to be smoked, imma smoke it. I'm a big pot head and weed will be talked about. I do use weed therapeutically and I do have a medicinal license to obtain and use weed, safely, in the state of Michigan, where I'm from and reside.

This is all I feel called to speak on for now, I am trying to learn structure little by little and this is also linked to my business Tumblr so I can see notifications from both - again, I'm always doing too much but we will see how things change in a few months to come. Who knows?

We're all powerful in different ways. The struggle is harnessing this power and owning it.

I'm owning my power today.

[ssaddyhotchner]

Love on the Brain- Aaron Hotchner

**not my gif**

WARNING : flirting, mentions of smut, swearing , teeny bit of angst, Hotch being an awkward cutie, Hayley mentioned. Not suitable for minors.

This is my first ever fan fic so please excuse me if it’s not good but let me know what y’all think anyways

Since joining the bureau, you have climbed through the ranks from desk agent to SSA in the prestigious behavioural analysis unit.

A recommendation by none other Erin Strauss you were a part of the team for just under a year and you fit in like you were always part of the family. This was not always the case however, a certain unit chief had it out for you in your first months on the team..scrutinising your every move and questioning your motives when he could.

Aaron Hotchner was an enigma. 6ft 2 he exuded alpha male energy and was a force to be reckoned with in the world of interrogating unsubs and you in your first months at the bureau. This all changed one night when Aaron was looking for a sitter for Jack Strauss called an emergency meeting with all the unit chiefs and Jessica was unavailable due to her caring for Roy. You were finishing up paperwork when you seen him come out of his office rubbing his thumb over his finger in the classic Aaron Hotchner tell. You told him you could watch Jack until the meeting was over. It took a bit of trusting on Aarons half but he agreed.

When Aaron arrived back from his meeting that night he offered to drive you back but you declined telling him you’d get a cab. He reluctantly agreed with you but offered you a drink while you were waiting. You agreed and one thing lead to another and Aaron made you experience things you had never experienced before with any man. He made you come 6 times that night and completely ruined you for any other man.

So here you are just under two months later in somewhat of a relationship with Aaron. He was incredibly hard to read and even harder to get him to trust you wholeheartedly to take the next step in your relationship. It was incredibly frustrating but you couldn’t get enough of him. This was all under the guise of the team thinking the both of you still had your issues and were definitely not engaging in the type of fun that involved various surfaces of Aarons apartment.

SEVEN DAYS. SEVEN. That’s how long this case in the middle of bumfuck nowhere had lasted. The unsub had been apprehended and you got to reunite a daughter with her mother and step-father. Safe to say you were exhausted both mentally and physically. You were also incredibly pent up as you and Aaron had not had sex in seven days, the longest time since you had been “canoodling”. Sure there were fleeting moments and touches when no one was looking even a make out session in the SUV but nothing noteworthy.

To add to your frustrations the jet would not be due to leave the strip until the morning so you were again stranded by both your libido and your actual physical being. The team decided to hit up one of the local dodgy karaoke bars to destress.

“Hey Y/N can you carry a tune beautiful?” Derek asked as the karaoke was being set up behind you.

“I took singing lessons as a kid and my father was in a band all throughout his high school years that’s how he met my mom so I have it in me I guess I just don’t think I have the stage presence……….sober” you laughed.

“We’ll see hot stuff we’ll see” Emily replied.

You glanced over at Hotch ever the stoic and he gave you a quiet nod. As the night went further on the team had rounds under the table and you were fairly “on it” as you Irish relatives would say. You approached Aaron as the team were away dancing and put your hands over his and he quickly snatched your hands away.

“Y/N what are you doing, you know they can’t see us” he whispered.

“Aaron what’s the issue here, Are you worried about your job or are you just ashamed of me” you hiccuped realising how drunk you actually were and feeling your emotions getting the better of you.

“Y/N look it’s not that it’s just….” He sighed. You tried to hold down the tears that were trying to make an appearance failing miserably.

“NO Hotch it must be because as we all are aware Dave and Strauss have been screwing for god knows how long and no one bats an eye. So what is so wrong with me being your girl and not just some secret fuck toy” you shouted.

“GOD you make me so frustrated” you said getting louder and now the whole team has picked up on your argument.

You looked at him again and see the raw emotion in his eyes just bubbling up to the surface. You walked away seeing the teams eyes follow you.

You sat outside the bar taking in a quick breath letting a few tears free.

“Are you okay Bella?” Dave asked.

“Yeah sorry Rossi, look it’s nothing I’m just drunk” you sighed.

“Drunk in love?” He replied

You looked at him in shock

“You don’t think we know about you and Aaron? You guys are so oblivious to the eyes you constantly give each other, it’s quite cute actually” he laughed.

“Well now it’s all screwed up” you said.

“Look Y/N Aaron has never been good at sharing his emotions especially after Hayley but I know he loves you….he’s just afraid”

From inside the bar you could hear one of the bar men asking if anyone was up for a round of karaoke. You swallowed you pride and walked back into the bar but not before saying..

“Well he has a funny way of showing it”

You stormed back into the bar and towards the karaoke stand ignoring Aarons eyes on you.

“Hey pretty thing would you like to come up and sing” he smiled.

“Sure why NOT” you hiccuped again.

You picked “Love on the Brain” by Rihanna as it summed up exactly how you feel about Aaron.

“And you got me like Oh what you want from me, and tried to buy your pretty heart but the price too high…baby you got me like oohhh you love when I fall apart so you can put me together and Throw me against the wall” you sang

You looked directly at Aaron, the team shocked over how good your voice was.

“Oh, and baby I'm fist fighting with fire, Just to get close to you..Can we burn something, babe?And I run for miles just to get a taste…must be love on the Brain yeah…”

The girls cheered you on, wolf whistling you…

“That's got me feeling this way”

“It beats me black and blue but it fucks me so good….And I can't get enough….Must be love on the brain yeah….And it keeps cursing my name….No matter what I do, I'm no good without you…And I can't get enough..Must be love on the brain”

Aaron does fuck you good….so good in fact…..But you can’t think of that.

You make it through the rest of the song and given a drunken bow when the bar applauds. You walk over to the bar and you almost think you see Aaron shooting you a cheeky smile…you’re dreaming right?

“Wow girlie, you are WASTED at the BAU, who know that voice could pack a punch” JJ laughed.

“Y/N can I talk to you for a second” Hotch asked.

You gazed at him for a moment. “Sure why not”

The two of you walked over to a booth and he told you to sit down, you obliged and he sat in beside you. Closer than he usually was “in public”

“I’m…not good at this sort of thing” he laughed awkwardly. “With Hayley she was my first girlfriend and I was only with one other person before her”

You were still a little out of it so it came out harsher than expected. “What are you saying Aaron”

“My career has always been so important to me I let it get in the way with Hayley and I think I’m trying to do the same with you because you’re so young and smart and successful”

“ I don’t want you dragged down by some widow..I can’t stay away from you.”

“You complete a side of me I did not even realise I had, you make me and parts of me feel like I’m 25 again” he confessed.

You looked at him in shock, was he really saying this?

He moved to whisper in your ear “When you got up there and sang that song I felt two things…one was so turned on and the other was love or what I think love could be one day…if you aren’t there yet” he kissed the side of your head.

“Aaron, I love you you are every bit of what I see you in you…caring, sexy brilliant and brilliant father and a GOD IN BED” you giggled.

“Can…we give this a try? Will you be my girlfriend?” He asked. You swooned.

“I mean I thought I already was…. but yeah I guess so”

“You guess so” he moved to nibble on your ear, you sighed and he captured your lips in a deep kiss. He swiped his tongue at your lips and your tongues fought for dominance.

“Im still mad at you” you said in between kisses.

“Let’s go back to my place then and I’ll make it up to you” he squeezed your thigh.

“Mmm think you can break our record sir?”You pouted.

“Oh I know I can” he grabbed your hand pulling you up from the booth bringing you towards the exit of the bar waving a quick goodbye to the team.

Meanwhile the rest of the team aside from Rossi and Reid stood in shock at what was going on.

“How long has that been going on?” Derek asked.

“Two months” Rossi and Reid replied at the same time.

“Wait, Kid how did you now?” Rossi looked at the young doctor.

“He was smiling a lot more…and we shared a room one night when we had to double up and I seen scratch marks on his back he whispered, they were fresh and the only girl within a radius of us with a manicure was “Y/N” his cheeks reddening.

“My man..” Derek replied smirking

[magniloquent-raven]

that soulmate au where everything you draw on yourself shows up on your soulmate, right. saw a post asking "what if make-up counts" and.

steve always thought his soulmate was a girl.

because when he was nine his nails stained themselves a messy purple in the middle of breakfast. it was exciting, the first time something like this had happened to him. he dropped his spoon into his oatmeal and banged on the tabletop til his nanny agreed to call his mother.

his mother was distracted over the phone, but she sounded happy enough. he went to school with an ear-to-ear grin on his face, staring down at his nails the whole drive there.

by second period the nail polish was gone, but the bubbling feeling in his chest wasn't.

a few months later, late one saturday evening, steve was in tommy's room debating whether the mark they saw on carol's arm really was the dog tommy had drawn on himself in math class, when suddenly tommy stops, stares. and laughs.

and steve is confused until he glances around and catches sight of himself in a mirror. there's a pink smear across his mouth, glossy and shining when he moves his head, but clearly applied with a shaky hand.

steve shoves tommy off his chair, suddenly feeling defensive. it's not funny. make up takes practice. steve's sure he'd be bad at it if he tried.

but thankfully it doesn't stay long. an hour, at most.

it happens again the following saturday. and every saturday for five months. gold eyeshadow and shimmering powder on his cheeks, glittery lip glosses, bright colours all applied inexpertly, and never for more than an hour or two.

then. it stops. one saturday, nothing happens. he stays up all night, unable to stop flicking the lights back on to glance at himself in the mirror just in case, but every time the twisting feeling of disappointment is just worsened.

that morning, exhausted and upset, he grabs a marker, scribbling the first thing that comes to mind across his arm.

i bet you looked pretty

there's no response. he's not sure if this kind of thing is allowed. talking to your soulmate like that. or if it's, like. cheating the system or something. he gets nervous after a few hours. maybe it's the lack of sleep messing with his head, but he scrubs it off in a fit of panic around lunch time.

and years go by. when they're old enough for girls to start wearing makeup regularly he hopes, wonders, glances at himself in the mirror so much, but it's always just his unmarked face staring back at him.

his soulmate doesn't draw on herself. she doesn't wear make up anymore. not even nail polish. steve starts doodling on his hands just to stop feeling so bare. empty. but he also starts carrying a packet of wet wipes in his bag so he can clean them off

and then. he's nearly eighteen, on a date with nancy and her subtle purple eyeshadow. and he's trying not to look too sourly at tommy and carol across the diner, sucking face and smudging the matching hearts drawn on their cheekbones. carol thinks it's cute, when she does her makeup sometimes she'll add hearts or stars by tracing tommy's freckles.

steve resents it. deep down, he does, and always has. he should've just been happy for them, but he's just. lonely.

but nancy gets it, he thinks. she's never gotten marks, she's not even sure she has a soulmate. sometimes steve's not sure he has one anymore either.

except.

except nancy's looking at him funny, and he asks her what the problem is, and--

"are you wearing eyeliner?"

he runs to the bathroom. and. and yes he is. it's smudged, almost artfully messy instead of just clumsy like it used to be. he pokes at his eye, running a finger under his eyelashes, tracing the inky lines.

he's overwhelmed. relieved.

frustrated.

what kind of girl only wears make-up at night? and how the hell is he gonna find her if she doesn't wear it during the day like everyone else. when people can actually see it.

shit, maybe she lives in. like. australia or something. in a different time zone.

steve goes home that night with a whole whirlwind of distracting thoughts. mixed emotions. he tries to cling to the knowledge that at least she's still out there, somewhere, but he can't help but feel even lonelier imagining how much distance might be between them.

six months later billy hargrove blows into town, loud and attention-seeking and annoyingly gorgeous. steve doesn't know what to make of him. not at first.

doesn't know what to do with the way billy's eyes follow him everywhere he goes. or the press of billy's chest against his back during practice. or pretty boy like you. or sparks in his fingertips every time he thinks about the colour blue.

until math class gets extra boring and steve starts to doodle aimlessly, swirling patterns up his wrist and something like waves crashing in the palm of his hand.

the back of his neck starts to itch, like he's being watched, and he looks up, meeting billy's horrified stare from the other side of the room. his arm is held close to his chest like he's injured it, and for one confusing moment steve wonders how the hell billy broke his arm in math class, and why he isn't going to the nurse, but then--

then he sees the corner of a curling line, peeking out from hiding. blue ink staining tanned skin.

steve drops his pen. it clatters to the floor, drawing a couple glares in the silence.

before he can do more than blink and mouth wordlessly, billy bolts. he doesn't even take his text book with him, leaves his notes scattered across his desk. the classroom door slams shut behind him.

steve wants to follow him. wants it so badly he's shaking with it, need and desire and everything in him trying to get him up and moving. but he can't. he's not stupid. he knows how it'll look, and that's the last thing either of them need.

so he waits. waits fifteen agonizing, impossibly long minutes.

and he's out of his seat the second the bell rings, gathering up billy's things before he half-runs out of the room.

it's easier to find billy than he thought it would be. he's in the parking lot, leaning against his car with a cigarette between his lips, staring down at the lines on his arm.

his hand darts into his pocket when he spots steve, and he squints up at the sky with feigned nonchalance.

a smile tugs at steve's lips.

"i brought your stuff," he says softly, quietly, like he's afraid if he's too loud he'll spook billy and scare him off. and. maybe he is.

billy glances at him out of the corner of his eye. "...shouldn't have bothered." he kicks the ground.

steve lays the books on the camaro's hood and shuffles a little closer to billy. the look he gets is wary. a warning. they're still at school. there are people around. there's a million reasons why he shouldn't reach out right now and kiss billy like he's wanted to do since this stupid infuriating asshole rolled into town like he owned the place. so.

he doesn't.

he stands close enough that their shoulders touch, pointedly not looking at him, staring sightlessly out at the parking lot instead.

"i was right, you know."

"hm?"

"about you being pretty."

billy makes a strangled noise. "that...was a long time ago."

"yeah? and?"

"it. it was dumb kid shit. i wasn't. i didn't. i don't do that anymore."

"uhh, few months ago--"

"i made a mistake," billy snaps, shoulders tense, hunching and pulling away from steve's.

steve turns, then, looks at him. sees the fear glinting in his eyes. and it hurts. a visceral pain, right through him. "billy..." his hand twitches at his side and he resists the urge to touch him. "i won't...i won't tell anyone. if you want it to be a secret it will be. i promise, okay? promise." he pauses, with relief, watches billy relax a fraction. "can...can it be our secret though?"

billy raises his eyebrows. "what."

"i wanna see. if. if that's okay. i wanna see you."

for a second steve thinks billy might hit him. shove him away and run again. but the moment stretches on and a flush starts to creep across billy's cheeks. he shifts his weight around. "i...maybe."

it feels like a win. somewhere to start.

and he feels nine years old again, giddy, smiling like a loon, and hopeful for the future.

(edit: pt2 here)

[stevesharrlngtons]

bury me at makeout creek.

fezco/lexi howard

summary: in the days and weeks following her play, lexi does her best not to feel fezco's sudden absence.

word count: 4.4k

a/n: um holy shit i truly didn't know if i would ever be able to write again with the unbreakable writers block i've had, but apparently, it just took the right motivation (i.e. fexi). my first time writing this pairing, and my first time writing character x character in a very hot minute, so be gentle with me. but other than that, i hope you enjoy!

feedback is greatly appreciated ♥

She wished she wasn’t so bitter when she heard.

After messages had gone unresponded, and then undelivered, Lexi was filled with sour emotion. Her heart sank with disappointment and ached with abandonment.

Add Fezco to the list, she mentally chided, adding the red head under her father’s name on the list of men who had left her life without notice.

Lexi wished she could be her usual, level headed self. She wanted to be understanding. But Fez’s unexpected flight from her life had thrown off her reasonable equilibrium.

While she had told him explicitly not to share any of what he did for business with her, she was sure that his professional life (if you could call it that) was hectic, and took time and attention. He could be busy? Lexi would often hear a strain in his voice, a hitch in his breath and undeniable exhaustion in his tone, and she knew something with work was weighing on him. She appreciated that he never dragged her into his dealings, no matter how much he may have wanted an impartial ear to unload on. She appreciated that Fez respected her boundaries and wishes to stay out of that part of his life. His thoughtfulness made her heart even more tender for him.

But for the first time since they began their phone call relationship, she resented that she ever put the rule into place.

Maybe if she hadn’t, she would know where he was? Maybe he got sick of not being able to talk with her about his job? Maybe he was tired of her straight laced attitude? Maybe he realized that, like all the other fleeting male suitors she had in the past, that she wasn’t worth the trouble?

Lexi knew that her insecurities had their own vindictive way of twisting events into something they weren’t. They were likely twisting Fezco’s departure into something more than it was. Maybe his phone had broken? Maybe something with his grandmother came up? Maybe he was just busy and had yet to return her calls.

Fuck, her life was so full of maybes lately, she hated it.

Maybe her sister would hate her forever, maybe she would get over it.

Maybe Rue was her friend again, or maybe she would drop her like a hot rock at any moment.

Maybe Fezco loved her too, or maybe he just had a passing fascination with the nerdy, smart girl.

Her gut churned with possibility, sour bile filling her chest and burning her fragile heart at the thought of inadvertently driving Fezco away. Burning at the idea that he would disappear into thin air without so much as a text to let her know what was going on. After five months of constant communication, she thought she deserved as much.

Lexi tried her hardest to not feel Fez’s sudden absence in the days following her play. But she couldn’t stop the flutter in her heart each time her phone rang, the immediate thought of him whenever something notable happened in her day, or the urge to text him when she saw something she knew would make him laugh. She couldn’t bear to remove his suggestions from her playlists or somehow not notice the freckle on her neck he had pointed out one day on his couch.

“Right there,” he had said with a sideways grin, his finger gesturing to the area of skin in front of her ear and below her jaw, “it looks like a half moon, or some shit.”

She had run her hand over the section he pointed at, doing her best to tilt her head in a way for her eyes to see the freckle he was talking about.

“No way! I know where all of my freckles are, I don't have that many. I know for a fact I don’t have one there.”

“Man, who knows all their freckles?”

“I do!” she giggled, still trying to pivot in a way her body wouldn’t allow to see this made up freckle.

“Well,” he began in his slow cadence, his eyelids heaving as he zeroed in on her neck, “I’m not makin’ this shit up.”

Lexi felt his touch before she saw him reach for her. The gentle caress of his fingertip brushed over her skin, and he lingered just for a moment. Just long enough for her to notice, just long enough to feel the heat of his skin, and know that she would never be able to get enough of it.

It wasn’t that she was keeping her relationship with Fezco a secret. She wasn’t ashamed of who he was or what he did. Even with what she knew her peers thought of him, especially after the savage beating he gave Nate Jacobs on New Years, she had no problem being friends with him out in the open. The thing was, she really didn’t have anyone to tell.

Cassie was clearly out of the question. Even if she hadn’t been sleeping with the enemy, Lexi wasn’t sure she would have mentioned it to her big sister. She was always the more experienced one, the sexy one, the one men were drawn to. What was Lexi’s little flirtation compared to the stories of the men who had fallen at her sister’s feet? What would Cassie think of her little sister’s slow courtship with a man she was sure to stick up her nose at?

The knowledge plagued Lexi’s heart that she would never have the bond with her sister that she craved, even if she was often dismissed and treated poorly by the older Howard. As much as she would have liked it to be the reality, there would be no late night slumber parties for her to lament over her feelings for Fez with her sister.

She could have told her mother, but talking about boys with Susan had always been awkward, and Lexi felt weird broaching the topic with her. Although, she had offhandly mentioned a boy she was talking to her mother over dinner one evening. One when Cassie had long left for the night, leaving the two Howard women to a quiet meal without her. Her mother had grinned wide and made a conspiratorial noise that had left Lexi blushing.

“It’s about damn time some guy took notice of you! Was startin’ to think all those boys at your school were brain dead. Or just after whores.”

Lexi scolded her mother with a low whine of her name.

“What? It’s true.”

Rue and Lexi had barely spoken since the beginning of the school year. After they had reconciled following her play, Lexi had been doing her best to keep Rue at a comfortable distance. She wanted to believe the best in her friend and her sobriety, but a part of her was still hesitant. They were close enough to wave in the hallways, sit next to each other in class and share the occasional lunch, but not close enough for Lexi to spout out all her boy drama on Rue. The disclosure of a crush felt like sacred friendship knowledge, and they just weren’t there yet.

And disclosure of falling in love felt like something she shouldn’t tell anyone until she could tell the man who had spurred her feelings. Which she had yet to find the moment to do. Or now with his recent desertion, maybe she never would.

Besides Cassie, her mother, Rue and Fez, Lexi really didn’t have anyone else. None of which were appropriate options to talk about what was going on with her more-than-friend-less-than-boyfriend.

She had contemplated off-handedly asking Rue if she had heard from Fezco, but no matter how desperate for news she was, she always thought otherwise. Her friend was newly sober, and reluctantly at that. She didn’t need any excuse to search out her old drug dealer.

So, Lexi lived in stewing silence with thoughts and dreams of her life's leading man cluttering her brain. Some days her stream of consciousness about the masculine redhead skewed more negative than others, but the constant emotion that lodged itself in her as a knot in her chest was longing. She missed Fezco like nothing else. She had never experienced the Jane Austen feeling of pure and unadulterated yearning in her life. Lexi was ready to pile her hair on her head and dawn a regency gown and write letters to her slippery paramour of her anger at his for his hasty exit. That, and she gravely missed him and was anxiously awaiting his return home.

Or, something like that.

Her life would be so much easier if she were in an Austen novel. If not easier, at least a lot more palatable, because at least then, Lexi knew she’d get her happy ending.

The news on Fezco’s radio silence all came to a head four weeks from the day of her play.

Lexi was sat cross legged under the school’s west wing staircase. A hard plastic tray lay across her splayed thighs as she nibbled on a cafeteria salad and pushed around mashed potatoes and questionable gravy. She balanced her phone on the side of the tray, lazily scrolling through miscellaneous apps to waste time until the period was over.

Sometime between when she finished her salad and was still hungry enough to entertain eating the mashed potatoes, footsteps and voices sounded above her head. This wasn’t untypical for her favorite lunch spot, it was part of the reason she liked it so much. She liked hearing what other people had to say when they thought no one was listening. So as the voices grew closer, she strained her ears.

“... is gonna suck. No one holding, this town is fucking wiped out, I swear,” the first voice said.

“We can’t be out of options, man!” the second voice replied.

“I told you man, we are.”

“What about that guy? You ask that one guy?” second voice said.

“Which guy?”

“Y’know! Y’know, that guy. Runs that convenience store, slow talker, scar right here,” after recognizing the other signifiers the second voice had dropped, Lexi could only guess he was making a line with his finger across his skull.

“Oh wait, you mean Fez?” Lexi felt her stomach seize at his name.

“Yeah! Fez. Where’s he been, you know he’s always holding.”

“Nah, he got busted. My guy always goes to Fez first and he told me his place was raided bad. Fuckin’ thousands of cop cars outside or some shit.”

“Really? Damn, that sucks.”

Lexi didn’t hear second voice’s retort or the boys exiting the staircase to continue on to wherever they were headed. In fact, Lexi couldn’t hear a thing over the blood rushing in her ears and the sudden pounding in her temples.

She felt like the concrete had crumbled beneath her, sending her two stories down onto scuffed linoleum with no safety net.

This can’t be happening. This can’t be Fez, no way they were talking about her Fez, right?

No matter how many times she bargained with her new knowledge, there was nothing she could do to fight off the truth.

Fez hadn’t ditched her, but the reality of what had happened was so much worse.

For the first time in her life, Lexi Howard ditched school and walked home with snot catching on her cupid's bow and tears dripping down her chin.

Like all times when Lexi Howard was at a loss at what to do, and felt helpless in her own skin, she started researching.

Her google searches stemmed from statute of limitations, child abandonment as a use of defense, possession of an illegal substance with the intent to sell and any news article she could find about the raid that had happened close to a month before.

In her criminal research, she came up with quite a bit of information, even if the results were depressing. What she gathered was that with California’s possession of an illegal substance with the intent to sell laws, Fez could be looking at fifty years, depending on if they combined charges, plus any other charges the state may rain upon him.

It all felt so bleak, and she couldn’t even imagine how dejected Fez must feel at this moment.

The articles she was hoping would give her more insight on what happened to Fez the night of her play, gave her very little to work with. A drug bust in LA county meant little to new outlets, so she wasn’t swimming in options. The one article that mentioned the raid specifically was the East Highland New Tribune.

Four dead in South Highland Drug Raid.

LOS ANGELES, Ca. Four people died on Friday night in a South Highland in a home drug raid. According to police, the home had been a place of interest for years, but only recently was the LAPD able to gather enough evidence to obtain warrants and make arrests. LA County SWAT teams dispatched around 4PM last weekend to aid police in apprehending the suspects. Two individuals were arrested from the home, while one was found dead on the scene. One suspect was killed in a fire fight between the suspect and police. The casualties reported in the raid are one suspect and three SWAT members, another two in critical condition. An ambulance was called to the scene to transport one suspect to Mission Community Hospital.

Two suspects dead.

If not Fez, then who else? The junkie girl who was staying with him? A friend? Ash?

A calmly chill rolled through her body at the thought of Ash being killed by police in the midst of a drug bust. He was cold, violent and oftentimes frightened her with only a glance, but he was a child. One even more innocent than Fezco, he had never been given the chance to live by anything except the illegal trade he was born into.

He was a child. A child, who very well may be dead. Which left Fez all alone in the world. All alone and in prison.

Lexi could barely keep her mind away from wandering to darker places. Memories of being a child with her father next to her on the couch, watching Oz with him through her fingers and recoiling in horror.

Those couldn’t be the things Fezco was going through, right? That show was a drama, highly fictionalized for America’s violent fascination. Right?

She went to search for prison documentaries with inmate interviews, but thought better of it. With all the stress, terror and guilt simmering inside her, Lexi knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep for a week. No use in making it worse.

If anyone saw a change in Lexi’s behavior, they didn’t mention it. But, like her short list of potential confidants to spill secrets too, she didn’t have any people who would have noticed.

Cassie was MIA; Rue had always been her introverted, quiet companion; and her mother was too wrapped up in anger and worry over her eldest daughter to notice the depression that had undertaken her youngest.

Lexi couldn’t help but think of how Fez would have been the one to notice that something was wrong. He was far more intelligent and perceptive than anyone gave him credit for.

Lexi spent a week in sweatpants and leggings, hiding under hoodies and resting her forehead against to plastic desktops to bide her time until she could return home to her bed.

She nibbled on saltine crackers and gummy bears, and only watched reruns of The Nanny. She lived in a cocoon of blankets and her hips ached from laying down for so long. She hadn’t washed her face since she showered on Sunday, and her teeth were feeling fuzzy with plaque. She stayed in her room until the second she had to leave for school, and didn’t have any regard for the world outside her twin bed.

Becoming sullen and depressed over a boy wasn’t her style, or even something that she would think her personality would allow. Lexi had been sad over boys and friends, sure. But she never let any emotion impede this much into her day to day functions. This was more Cassie’s speed. Lexi couldn’t count the amount of times her sister had declared a hunger strike or used up all the tissues in the house as she wailed over some guy. Lexi had always pitied her, but now, she was no better.

But, no. You know what? That wasn’t true.

Cassie cried over boys who told her they loved her just to fuck her and leave. She cried over boys who took too long to text back or didn’t like her Instagram posts in a timely manner. But Lexi? Lexi was crying over the first man to ever make her feel seen, feel loved. The first man who ever genuinely made her smile and let her know that her ideas were meaningful. The first man who made her fingertips tingle with affection and the first man who ever told her she was truly beautiful. This wasn’t some run of the mill hook up or a high school fling.

This was Fez. Her Fez.

And he was gone and all alone.

And Lexi couldn’t cope.

She wasn’t sure how much longer she could have sustained her dip into despondence, but thankfully, she didn’t have too.

Because five weeks and three days since the night of her play, Lexi Howard received a phone call at 4:15PM from Central Regional Detention Center.

After the quick moment of comprehension and shock that crossed her, Lexi answered the call in a flash.

“Hello?” her desperation rang out and bounced up to her ear.

“There is an inmate from a correctional facility who needs you to accept a collect call and the associated charges. Do you accept this call and those associated charges?” an automated voice replied.

“Yes.”

“Please hold while I connect your call.”

Before long, Lexi was greeted by her favorite sound in the world.

“Hello?” his unhurried tone rang out, and Lexi choked a sob.

“Fezco, is that you?” she clutched the collar of her dirty shirt tightly in her fist as she waited for his reply.

He let a beat pass, and then she heard him sigh, “yeah, yeah. It’s me, it's me, Lex.”

At his confirmation, she couldn’t hold her tears back any longer. Her chest deflated with a breath she hadn’t known had been lodged in her throat, and she wept.

“Oh, no. C’mon, now, no. None of that, c’mon, Lex,” Fez chided, but she could hear the worry in his voice.

Worry over her. When he was the one in jail. Christ, this man.

“I can’t help it, I’m sorry,” she hiccupped, “I was just so worried. I was so worried about you and so scared. I didn’t know what had happened until I overheard it in the halls. I had no idea, Fez. I had no idea. I’m so sorry. I am so, so sorry.”

Another sigh came through the receiver, and Fez let her cry a little longer as he consoled her with gentle noises until she was calm enough to speak.

“Sorry you had to find out that way, and not from me. I’m sorry about that.”

“No,” Lexi shook her head rapidly even though he couldn’t see her, “you have nothing to apologize for. Not one thing. You’re the victim here, you’re the one going through hell. Please, don’t apologize.”

“Not even for missin’ your play?”

She wiped her nose with the back of her hand, and replied with full honesty, “not even for that.”

She heard him blow a laugh through his nose.

“Lexi Howard,” he gave another pleased noise, “I ain’t never gonna know what you’ll say next. Never. Somehow though? Somehow it’s always amazing.”

Lexi felt her shoulders relax and her heart flutter. Three words she had been aching to confess to him lit a fire on her tongue, so she took a drink of water to dull it. That same tingling in her fingertips was back and the beginning of a smile was coming back to her face.

“How do you always know the right thing to say?”

“Yknow?” He chuckled, “you probably the first person to ever say that to me.”

Lexi gave a wet laugh. While she wasn’t surprised by that, it still made her a sad. How awful was it that no one had taken the time to know this spectacular man enough to let his love and care wash over them? She felt sorry for them, but she had no problem selfishly soaking it all in.

“Well it’s true. You always know what to say to me, no matter what. You are just… Fez you’re amazing. You really truly are.”

“Aw, shit. Nah.”

“Yes! Yes, you are. You are amazing, and sweet and kind and empathetic and thoughtful and funny and handsome and -“

“You think I’m handsome, Lexi Howard?” she could hear the smile in his voice.

Lexi flushed bright red.

“I was talking, you know?” She hoped he could hear the smile in hers.

“Yeah, yeah you were. Saying that I’m all nice and shit. You can keep goin’ if you want.”

Lexi's chest burst with a giggle, “well I’m going to stop. I will after I say this,” she took a deep breath, “you are one of the best people I have ever met, and without a doubt, my favorite person I have ever met.”

The line went still and Lexi felt a brief spike of apprehension. Was she too much? Was that confession too much? Especially right now, in the circumstances of how they were talking?

“I know without a doubt too, Lexi. I know that you’re my favorite person I have ever met, too.”

One last nasty spike hit her belly for doubting him, before she was drowning once more in the warmth of Fezco’s adoration.

And then the stupid tears hit her again.

“Lex, no, no! We just got you over this,” he said.

“I’m sorry I just,” she blubbered, “you’re so wonderful and I miss you. I miss you so much and I am sorry that I ever thought you would be cruel enough to ghost me out of nowhere.”

Fez swallowed, “that what you thought? You thought I’d just up and forget you? Nah. Never could do that.”

“Really?” she sniffled.

“Nah, Lex. Never. Never you.”

She let out another quiet sob and he clicked his tongue.

“You’re killin’ me, man. Crying and sad and shit, and I can’t even do nothing. Can’t even hold you to make it better.”

The thought of Fez’s arms around her soothed the cracks in her heart enough to let it beat wildly at the idea. Lexi wanted so desperately to feel his embrace, to tuck her head under his chin and smell the pheromones on his skin.

“I really wish you could. Maybe then I could help you, too. God, I'm over here sobbing like a baby when I am the one who is supposed to be comforting you!

“I had a whole speech planned out for the next time I talked to you. About staying strong and being brave, but it all seems so silly now. Especially now. Because you are the strongest and bravest person I know.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What else? What else would you’a told me in this pep talk?” His voice was quiet, vulnerable.

“That even when things are at their worst, I tell myself that everything is going to be ok, even if I don’t believe it. I tell myself it’s going to be ok because it has to be. It just has to be ok, so it will be.”

He hummed in understanding, “even this? You think even this time things will be ok? Cause, shit Lex, I got a feelin’ that it won’t.”

“Then I’ll believe it will be for the both of us.”

“You will?”

“Of course, I will.”

Neither of them spoke for a long while after that. Nothing needed to be said to fill the silence, just the sound of the other’s gentle breath was enough. Lexi didn’t know you could miss the sound of someone's exhale until she was separated from Fez's. She would spend a lifetime listening to his husky intakes and outtakes if she got the chance. She hoped Fez would give her that chance.

The automated voice from before soon burst their calm bubble.

“You have two minutes remaining.”

Both Lexi and Fez gave a mutual huff of disapproval.

“Well… I guess that’s it for right now, huh?”

“I guess so…” Lexi trailed off.

She wanted to ask him so badly about what had happened that night of her play; about what happened to Ash, if he was alive, and if so where was he? What happened to his grandmother and the girl who was staying on the couch? Was he fairing ok living in a cell and if he ever felt scared? If he had a lawyer and what they had said? But, she knew he wouldn’t be allowed, or able, to tell her much.

With her bottom lip being gnawed and peeled between her teeth, and their time running out, she couldn’t help but blurt out, “what happened that night?”

He exhaled loudly, “that night?”

“Yeah, that night. The night of my play.”

“Damn, Lex. Thought I was gonna get off the hook with you on this.”

She snorted, “Well, you are calling me from jail.”

“True, true.”

Lexi paused, but knew she was running out of time, “So...?”

“Well, honestly? I don’t really wanna talk about it. Yeah, I don't think I want to at all.”

“Oh, ok. Yeah, that’s fine, that’s totally ok.”

Lexi hoped he could grasp just how much she meant that. She didn’t want to fish for details (no matter how much she wanted them) he wasn’t willing to give or pry anything out of him that he wasn’t comfortable saying. All she really wanted was to be there for him. To care for him the way he deserved.

“But y’know? Maybe, shit, I don’t know. You could come visit me? Or somethin’? I wasn’t allowed to have visitors for the first month, or even call anyone, but now I can. So, yeah. Maybe you come and we can talk about your play? Or, I don’t know, talk about anything.” Fez was trying to keep his voice nonchalant, but the hope in it was evident.

“Yeah,” she replied almost too quickly, “I’d like that. I’d really, really like that.”

Lexi’s smile grew so big on her face her cheeks ached, and if only she could see Fezco, so she could see his matching expression.

“Cool, cool,” he said, “then I guess I’ll see you soon.”

“You will,” she replied earnestly.

Then, a dial tone indicated their time was up.

a/n: i really hoped you enjoyed this time bit of fix up i did to fexi's story, lol! we have to do it ourselves because we know s*m is just going to continue to fuck it up. anyway! i hope you enjoyed and if you did, i'd loooooovvvveee to hear it ♥