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sunflowerstalks · 4 years

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Maybe If Remus Had a Plan in the First Place This Fic Would Have Had a Name, Too

Remus is Remus, Roman is tired, and there’s a cat, too. Expected chaos ensues.

This is my gift for Pigeon, @the-pigeon, for @sanderssidesgiftxchange! I hope you enjoy your gift, and i hope your holidays were and continue to go well! Also, happy new year!! :D

word count: 2125

rating: teen and up (for slight language/innuendo)

content warnings: slight innuendo/language typical of remus, hair pulling as a stim, descriptions of bad things happening to animals (as an intrusive thought, it is dealt with accordingly), slight anxiety attack/sensory overload moment

relationships: platonic sides (all of em) with brotherly roman&remus focus, implied/background romantic roman/virgil and romantic patton/remus but it’s pretty subtle

characters: roman, remus, virgil, patton, logan, janus, c!thomas (meaning both character!thomas and cat!thomas asfhjakfh)

additional tags: high school au, punk au, heist fic, like slight conflict and then mostly fluff and comfort. also, side note, cain and abel are the twins’ cats sdhjgdskfh

“Remus.”

“Roman.”

A beat.

“Any chance you could explain… any of this?” Roman gestures wildly to the pile of metal scraps, receipts, the feral cat, and assorted other trinkets strewn across the sidewalk in front of Remus, before crossing his arms and impatiently awaiting an answer without his usual air of, well, put-together-ness.

“Well, I’d actually gotten around to finally cleaning my wallet, when—”

“The cat, Remus! Whose cat is this? Why do you have it? Why is it surrounded by trash?” Roman’s voice increased in both volume and shrillness as he went on, hands reaching unconsciously to tug at his hair.

“Hey, don’t do that shit,” Remus tugged at the cuffed jean at Roman’s ankle for emphasis, “Anyways, like I was saying, I was cleaning my wallet when I remembered that I was like, eighty assignments behind in anatomy, so I figured I could do some cool art or somethin’ with a cat! For… extra credit or something.” Remus faltered for a moment, “In all honesty, I didn’t think I’d get this far.” He had thought getting the cat would be the hard part, so now he was stuck in the swing of success without a direction to turn. Roman, however, was still stuck on the small details (in Remus’ humble opinion).

Roman took a deep breath, muttering something that sounded a lot like a prayer for forgiveness, before looking down at his brother yet again.

“Remus.”

“Yes, brother dearest?”

“Whose cat is this?”

“Do you want the honest answer?”

Roman looked moments away from manslaughter, yet managed to nod anyways. Remus’ face broke into a shit-eating grin;

“I have no fucking clue.”

---

“Let me get this straight—”

A chorus of ‘good luck with that’s and similar sentiments echoed Logan’s statement, much to his chagrin.

“Okay. Redo.”

“You can’t just say ‘redo’ IRL, Lo,” Virgil chuckled, not even bothering to look up from his phone—he had already checked out from the drama, but stayed for the simple pleasure of experiencing the familiar banter—and in fear of being called to the dean’s office for cutting class. Mostly the latter.

“And I would argue that you cannot say ‘IRL’ in a verbal conversation, yet here we are,” Logan paused for emphasis, adjusted his necklaces for the umpteenth time, and smoothed his hands over the table again before continuing, “Regardless. The situation that you—and I mean you two,” he gestured to the twins, “there is hardly a ‘we’ fault-wise here—have gotten into, is one of... feline larceny, without a known victim? Is that correct?” Remus nodded sheepishly—or as sheepish as his wolfish features could get, all teeth and eyes—while Roman just stewed in rage. Remus’ backpack laid halfway zipped on the lab table, and every once in a while a pink nose and whiskers would find its way into the light before being shoved back by a flurry of hands, aware of what yet another detention would mean for the twins. They couldn’t all just skip, though—they learned that the hard way from the last time one of Roman and Remus’ harebrained schemes had made its way from “a slight nuisance” to “an unignorable thorn in everyone’s side that also somehow ends with arson.” So, they had some past experience in handling the, well, experience that the twins brought along with their company—but they normally had at least a lead to work with.

“How,” Janus started, massaging his temples despite only just then contributing to the wreck of a conversation that their art class had devolved into, “do you steal a cat, and not know who from?” Remus just shrugged.

“It wasn’t intentional. I needed a cat, a guy had a cat, I didn’t ask questions. Was I supposed to?” Remus asked, eyebrows drawn together—normally, he’d be a sarcastic shit that would drive the group insane on (some level of) purpose, but now he just seemed genuinely afraid—of the consequences of his own actions, but, still—progress. Logan opened his mouth to offer his advice, but was silenced by the jarring ring of the bell. He sighed. This was going to be a long day of way more stress than he was qualified for—the twins were going to owe him another stick and poke if he had any say in the matter.

---

Remus must have been a wonderful, wonderful man in his past life. He had to have been. Because, somehow, by some good grace, he managed to make it through another two classes on his own, and to lunch in one piece, with a living cat by his side—well, in his backpack, but the merit stands. Logan could honestly say he was impressed—not that he would tell him that, though. Nevertheless, the six friends reconvened at lunch—still without a direction to turn.

“I could just put him back where I found him,” Remus started, attempting to break the icy silence at the table with a jackhammer as always.

“Do you even know where that is?” Roman scoffed, incredulous.

“Well, no, but I could get close.”

“This isn’t helping,” Logan interjected, “How about you bring it to a shelter? One nearby where you found it?” The table nodded in general agreement, but Remus only frowned.

“But that isn’t where I got it from. What if it has an owner? What if the closest shelter isn’t a no-kill shelter, and we go to all the trouble of saving the cat only for the fucks at the shelter to hurt it?” Remus’ pace picked up with his heart rate—despite only having this cat for maybe six hours, if anything happened to it, Remus had a pretty good idea of what he’d end up doing.

“We can check for that, can’t we, Lo?” Patton chimed in, placing a calming, steady hand on Remus’ shoulder, which sunk, relieved, at the touch.

“Possibly. But, regardless, it isn’t Remus’ cat. Our priority is to get it back to its original owner, if it has one,” Logan pointed out, “If that isn’t possible, then we need to reevaluate our plan, come up with another, and settle for a different goal.”

“Have we at any point today even actually had a plan?” Virgil snickered, ever the pessimist—it wasn’t like he was really helping as he was, once again, staring at his phone.

“Well, it’s not like you’ve done much besides stare at your phone today, edgelord,” Remus snarked, though it came out as more of a mumble—his face was pressed into the table, and his eyes were on the cat in the bag.

“You’re gonna have to get better nicknames, Dukey, we’re all edgelords here,” Janus deadpanned, smudging an unhealthy amount of eyeshadow around his eyes while Virgil and Remus argued over their respective contributions.

“Okay, can you, my brother,” Roman pointed to Remus, whose teeth clacked with how fast he shut up, ”and you, my boyfriend,” he pointed to Virgil, who could only look the smallest bit abashed, “calm all the way down? Stop arguing, holy shit—” Roman took another breath, relishing the silence that had fallen over the table before pushing on, “—how about we all go, together, and fix this shit? I mean, what could go wrong?”

---

The answer was a lot. A fucking lot could go wrong when six seventeen-year-olds tried to coordinate anything, let alone an amateur heist.

Remus managed to get through the rest of the school day without much incident, but the rest of them were not so lucky, managing to receive a grand total of three detentions and six failed tests from lunch to the end of seventh period between the five of them. The teens recounted the horror stories of sixth period; Patton gesturing wildly from the driver's seat, Remus sat quietly (for maybe the second time in his life) in the passenger seat, and the remaining accomplices squished together in the back seat (which would fit three people at most for any group that wasn’t them). Also in the back seat was the cat, who had been dubbed “Thomas” for the time being—he was sat in Janus’ lap, curled up around an abandoned ball of yarn that had been left under one of the seats. The car ride across town would have been incredibly tense and unbearably long without the feline, and for that, Remus was grateful—even if he still had a sinking feeling of guilt swirling in his stomach.

---

After a surprisingly uneventful car ride (except for the stop at a drive through for a morale boost (Patton’s words) of coffees and drinks which ended, after a rather nasty pothole, with a massive stain on the roof of the car), the party settled into the waiting room at the—no-kill, Remus triple checked—animal shelter. There weren’t enough chairs, so the group made more of a pile around Thomas, some of them standing, and the others sitting both on chairs and the floor. Juxtaposed with the sterile white of the walls, they stood out like the emo cousins that they basically were. Remus bounced his leg, up, down, up, down, over and over. He kept knocking his knee against Janus’, which jostled Thomas every time he did.

“Sorry,” Remus mumbled, trying to focus on holding still. But it itched in the back of his brain, guilt and stress and fault and all the wonderful, terrible feelings churning, over and over. The clock behind the desk was too loud, and Remus couldn’t do anything about it because they wouldn’t even have to be here if not for him. So he kept his mouth shut and tried not to cry—for all of two minutes, because that was when Janus decided that he had had enough, and shoved a ball of fur into his arms. For a moment, Remus was terrified he was going to fuck it up, hurting Thomas or himself or causing some other inevitable disaster, but Thomas just pushed his warm face into Remus’ palm, and suddenly, somehow the only thing Remus could feel was loved. He choked out a wet laugh, unable to contain the bubbling build-up of emotions that had been brewing since he first saw Thomas that morning. His friends all looked at him, concerned at first, but all they could do was coo at Remus being the softest they had ever seen him. He sniffed, and gave them all a watery smile.

“Thanks, guys.”

“Sincerity? In my brother? It’s more likely than you think!” Roman teased, poking his brother in the arm. Remus stuck his tongue out at him, and the teens devolved into familiarity, playful taunts and sincere joy, waiting to be called back for Thomas’ check up.

---

While the veterinarian had been momentarily taken aback at the request for all six visitors to be in the room during the appointment, she also hadn’t seen a reason to say no at the time. Thus, once again, like the clowns they were, they piled into the room and crowded around the table, Thomas at the heart of it all—confoundingly calm given the situation, at least to the onlookers.

The veterinarian introduced herself to each of them, and began examining the cat for any injuries, microchips, or anything out of place.

“He seems to be healthy, no broken bones or infections…” The doctor said, reaching for a handheld device, “If he’s microchipped, and I’m able to reach the owner, you boys will be off the hook, okay?” Remus cringed, but nodded—he needed to remember that Thomas wasn’t his before he got hurt. She ran the scanner over Thomas’ back, and hummed.

“I’m… actually not finding anything. You said he was lost?”

“I don’t know for sure,” Remus confessed, “I found him on the street, so he could be a stray.”

“It seems he was a very lucky one, for sure. Most cats his age are incredibly susceptible to outside bacteria—finding you guys likely saved his life.” Remus’ eyes widened, and his hand reached for Thomas almost instinctively.

“You said that he doesn’t have an owner?”

“Not that I can determine, no. Did he have a collar, any sort of identification?”

Remus shook his head.

“Well, there are two options in the meantime; we can hold on to him, and put him up for adoption through our services, or you could adopt him. He needs to be immunized and neutered, first, but where he ends up is up to you guys.” Remus thought to himself for a moment.

“Hey, Roman. How mad do you think Mom would be if we brought Cain and Abel home a new friend?”

---

The answer? Not mad enough to outweigh her happiness at Remus’ smile with Thomas in his arms. And even though he didn’t end up getting the extra credit in anatomy, Remus’ circle of best friends grew by one, so he thinks he did alright in the end.

#sanders sides #creativitwins #intruality #prinxiety #ts roman #ts remus #ts virgil #ts patton #ts janus #ts logan #c!thomas #cat!thomas

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justsomefluff · 4 years

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Good Morning with Ateez

Summary: the title pretty much explains it all lmao

A/N: Sorry that I haven’t been writing! School has been crazy with everything going on, and I have to work as well. Hopefully, I will be able to write more in the coming weeks.

*Members after Joong are below the cut*

Hongjoong:

ok, waking up in the morning with joongie is wild

If he wakes up first, he’s all giggly

bugging you

kissy kissy all over your face

he’s practically on top of you

it’s not that he wants to get up or anything, he just prefers when you are awake at the same time

“Let me sleep, Joongie”

“but iM LONELY”

If you’re really tired though he’s gonna be cute with you and let you sleep all you want

he will just lay with you and stroke your hair and kiss your hands and ugh im soft

BUT

if you wake up first

he expects the same

so, if you wake him up with anything other than smooches he’s gonna whine and complain so much

“GIMME KISS”

“no, you have morning breath”

“so what you're saying is you hate me”

SO dramatic

if you manage to slip out of bed before he can trap you

he will jump out of bed and latch onto you

LEECH

tries to steal your energy through his hugs

but overall a cute bb who likes a calm, sweet wakeup with his love

Seonghwa:

(THIS GIF I CANT BREATHE)

So, our precious baby Seonghwa

ALWAYS awake before you

like how does he do it???

why does he do it???

whenever he wakes up, he’ll kinda check on you a little bit

make sure you’re in a comfortable position, give you a kiss and all that

but then he’ll slip out before you wake up??

rude.

And then you wake up and you're kinda grumpy bc why would he leave you cold and alone when you could be cuddling rn

when you find him, he’s halfway through making you breakfast

and that makes up for it

he always tries to do things for you to make your mornings easier

It’s his way of making up for all the things he can’t do for you while he’s working

When he notices that you're awake omigod the biggest smile

Will deadass abandon his cooking to come give you a squeeze

your eyebrows are all furrowed and you’re pouting and you're hair is just the worst but he’s so in love with you, you big dork

Gives you a kiss and then makes you sit down

serves you breakfast, all proud

if it’s something he doesn't normally make, he will watch you take the first bite and cross his fingers that you like it

which you always do

Mornings with him will pretty much always be domestic and sweet

Yunho:

McSquishy

When he wakes up, his cheeks go poof

anyway you usually wake up before him on your days off

but he will wake up soon after you

it’s like he senses that you're awake and wants to join in on the party

so when he wakes up, he feels you stretching and wiggling around

Will make fun of you if you make any of those awkward stretching noises

“UGHHHHH AHHH”

like hush leave me alone

isn’t hard to wake up but he will 100% drag you out of bed as soon as he can

mostly because he wants food

if you don’t get up right away he’ll just make you

like the recent video where he just picks up San and moves him? Yeah exactly

will also do that weird shimmy dance he did in that video too just to show you how excited he is

like a golden retriever no lie

so excited to be with you all the time

“Baby, let’s go” “baby, let’s eat” *smoochies*

and you just kinda let him drag you all over the place because he’s cute

isn’t one for morning cuddles in bed, but will still make you sit on his lap during breakfast and stuff just to have you close

cute squish who just wants to be loved aw

Yeosang:

clingy baby right here

Will probably wake up before you

but he’s not totally there yet, you know?

like his eyes are open but he’s dead

kinda flounders for a second trying to find you in the bed

when he does, he’s sticking to you and not letting go

probably falls asleep again because he’s so comfy and warm

so, it’s up to you to wake up before both of you sleep through the day

he’s usually pretty happy when he wakes up

lots of sleepy smiles

nuzzling into you like crazy

even though he’s groggier than you, he will be the first to get up

probably to pee or something idk he just needs to move

eager to start the day

If you’re still in bed 5 minutes after he gets up he’s gonna judge you

“How dare you let me start our day together by MYSELF”

when you do get up, all is forgiven

the kind of person who likes to go out for breakfast rather than cook it at home

it’s not that he can’t, he just doesn’t want to lmao

always excited to dress up a little bit with you for breakfast dates

the perfect beginning to your day together imo

San:

SO WHINY

obviously you’re gonna have to be the one to wake him up

waking up is San’s least favorite part of the day

will trap you in bed for the entire day if you let him

“San, I know you’re tired but we slept ‘til noon”

“Let’s make it 2:00″

literally goes through the 7 stages of grief when he wakes up

Denial: “not morning yet, bye”

Guilt: “I’m so lazy”

Bargaining: “BABY, two more hours, it’ll be great”

Depression: “they started the day without me and I’m lonely”

Upward Turn: “maybe I feel a little more awake now”

Working Through: “ok I can do this, just one more stretch”

Acceptance: “Im up”

Like finally

definitely likes morning cuddles though so if you didn't give him at least that, then he’s gonna hate you for the day

loves starting his day with you and if you don't help him wake up the way he wants

Grumpy baby all day

just snuggle him dammit

Mingi:

ok so he’s not waking up I don't care

when Mingi sleeps, he’s comatose okay

until he has a genuine reason to get up, he is parked

likes to cuddle, but not gonna sacrifice sleep for it

so, if you get up and start your day, whatever he’ll stay

like he’ll ask you to stay and cuddle but he isn’t gonna have enough energy to argue with you over it lmao

you deadass need jumper cables to get him started

if he has to get up to pee or something minor, he will try to do it without you noticing so he can go back to sleep

“SONG MINGI, I SEE YOU”

“NO” and then he sprints back to bed

cue wrestling in bed because once he is fully awake he can’t sit still

like you’re trying to get him up and, while he’s awake now, he just wants to make your life a little harder

pulling you under the covers and everything while you're begging him to come eat with you

he will eventually give in because food

but with him, you kind of just have to let him wake up on his own

if you want to get him started that’s fine, but it prolly won’t help lmao

let him sleep, he’ll figure it out

Wooyoung:

Wooyoungie babyyyyy

When I wake up in the morning...it’s not as sexy as you think

contrary to popular belief, Woo does not wake up sexily

he wakes up friggin adorable

when you wake up first, he just makes you cuddle him until he’w ready to get up, no arguments

but if he wakes up first, he’s wiggling all over the place

another one who just cant sit still

will stretch and bounce and just be a nuisance until you get up too

he will definitely smack you in the face when he’s stretching and then just laugh when you glare at him

when really he should fear for his life like you did not just wake me up by SMACKING ME

but will definitely be kissing you everywhere because he always says he wants to start his day by seeing you smile

cheeseball fr

also he’s loud

in case you didn't know

“JAGIYA WAKE UPPPPPP”

“SHHHHHHHHHH WOOYOUNGAH”

but his volume is contagious and then you're both yelling and its insane

but then you're both giggling and kissing and hugging and its a good morning because

no time spent with Wooyoung is wasted

Jongho:

(How could I not use this gif I mean really)

Jongho is so hard to wake up

like at least Mingi will wake up to shoo you away

but Jongho physically cannot

You could squeeze an air horn by his face and he wouldn't even flinch

basically he’s a heavy sleeper

But as you have more sleepovers, you’ll figure out a way to wake him up more effectively

whatever your method may be, he will be smiling as soon as he opens his eyes

always excited to see you

bc he’s a sweet baby

will make you hug him for a little bit and he’ll kiss your head

after a little bit he’ll sigh and be like “okay”

that’s when you know you can both get up

will follow you around and do pieces of his routine as you do yours

you're almost totally in sync its kinda creepy

but then he will offer to help you make breakfast and always lets you pick what you want to make

just soft for you in general and he’d give you the world

hell, he’s definitely strong enough

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #fanfiction #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios

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lord-explosion-baku · 5 years

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Yandere Neko!Shinsou part 3

warnings: hhh, yandere, dub con, “somnophilia”, the use of the word moist, “tiny pants”

A/N: I have no idea why every time I write any part of this series I end up rushing it??? maybe because I’m a baboon that is trying to stay relevant? I keep trying to write requests (ones that aren’t for halloween because those have actually been easy enough) but I just cannot? I am suffering. Anyways, this isn't my best work, it isn't my worst work. It’s just work. I hope you enjoy regardless... I... am sweaty and cannot wait until the fall.

The gentle caressing from the pads of his fingers stirred you awake. You laid there, letting the sensation create a flurry of goosebumps across your back but you didn’t move. You never did. It had been a week since you saw Shinsou, who was supposed to be a cat, turn into a man and every night since then, you’d feel him touch you in one way or another. You didn’t know what to think of it; beforehand, while he was your cat, he would erratically attack your feet if you so much as turned over in your sleep. Now, it was more like… he was exploring you. He’d never been human before, never touched things with sensitive fingertips and… you felt too guilty about attacking your pet on the first night you’d discovered him to actually stop him again.

He leaned down to your side, you could feel the warmth of his breath in your exposed skin right before he rubbed his cheek against your hip. You held your breath. It was wrong to let him do this, it was like you were taking advantage of his curiosity because it actually felt nice. You heard soft purring emitting from his chest, the cute little rumbles vibrating on your legs. He nuzzled his head against you and dragged his tongue across your skin. He paused to see if you’d give him a reaction; as far as he knew, you were sound asleep. Another lick sent a wave of pleasure dancing to the pit of your stomach, another lick and your toes curled, and finally when his lips enveloped a soft, sensitive part of you, you gasped. You turned over so your back was against the bed, and Shinsou’s presence disappeared, his phantom touch still lingering, stirring something wrong in you. You opened your eyes to see two glowing indigo orbs staring back at you from the end of the bed. Shinsou watched and waited for you to object but in his eyes, you weren’t awake enough, you weren’t aware of what he was doing. You had no clue how badly he wanted to officially claim you, how he wanted to make you his. Still, his heart sunk slightly when you pulled the covers over your body.

“You’re leaving?” Shinsou bolted to the front door in hopes of barricading you in, a dramatic gesture since you weren’t ready to get there yet. He watched as you rolled your eyes and put your keys into your purse.

“Yes, kitty, I’ve got to. You’ve eaten all the salmon I bought last week and I need to get more laundry detergent and I’m pretty sure I let most of my perishables spoil since you’ve been making me order you take out. You’re really eating so much.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have done that if I knew that meant you’d be going away!”

“I’m only gonna be gone an hour or two! Grocery shopping is a part of normal human life! I did the same thing when you were a cat!”

“And it was tooooorture!” Shinsou griped. He recalled all those times you’d leave the condo and although that meant that he could get into anything he wanted, he always wondered when you’d be back. He waited for you no matter how much fun he’d gotten himself into. Even now, it was different to him. What if you went out and found another cat you liked much more than him because it didn’t turn into a human? What if you met someone who wanted to take you away from him? What if you got trapped in the snow!! Shinsou knew nothing about what it was like outside except for the misery he felt when he was abandoned and everything about that was bad. He didn’t want you to be subjected to that.

“Don’t go!” He pleaded when you reached the door. You brows knitted softly together and you brought your hand to the back of his ears, giving him some tentative scratches that made him nearly melt.

“I have to. Don’t you want to get fed?”

“Can’t you just order more food?”

“I swear, you want me to drain my wallet dry, huh?” You sighed and lightly pushed his shoulder to get him to move out of your way.

“I just… I wanna spend more time with you. We’ve been having really good days, right?” Shinsou grabbed your hand. “You’re not… abandoning me?”

You paused and allowed Shinsou to rub his thumb into the palm of your hand, dreading the slight flush you felt in your cheeks. “No, baby. I’m not abandoning you.”

You had to remind yourself that the man before you was just a cat. You’d gotten used to his ears, teeth, and eyes, and although the tail was still weird to you, especially seeing it move on its own, it was too easy to see Shinsou as a man. Something like you. But he was your pet, your kitten. You pulled your hand away.

“I left the TV on in my room. I think you’ve figured out how to work it well enough. And there are some leftover crab cakes in the fridge if you get hungry, but you really should try to eat a vegetable, or maybe you might end up liking apples! I should definitely get more apples... Human beings have different diets than cats.”

“I don’t really think I’m a human or a cat,” Shinsou stated, his tail swishing back and forth.

“Then, what are you?”

“Your dream come true.” He smirked. Yeah, he’d definitely been watching too much television.

“Goodbye, Shinsou.”

You opened the door and waited for Shinsou to step aside. Instead, he leaned into your ear and whispered, “I love you,” relishing the look on your face you got whenever he said something easy like that.

He watched you walk down the path towards you car, making sure to call out about wanting fish sticks which you obviously ignored. As soon as you disappeared, his ears dropped. Two hours away from you would be too long.

Shinsou laid belly down on your bed, languidly sifting through the higher channels on your television, not really caring about any of the faces that appeared on the screen. The only face he wanted to see was yours. He wondered what it would take to get you up on that screen. Shinsou gave up, stopping at a channel where men were fighting with long pointed knives in the snow, and rolled off the bed.

He poked and prodded at the toiletries lining the counter in your restroom, turning his nose up at the long tube full of that terrible paste you said was to help keep his teeth cleaned, and reached for the little box that was full of the string that was also supposed to keep your teeth clean, but was much more fun to you around with. Shinsou pulled the floss out to about two feet before realizing he was already bored. He dragged the little box by the string back to the bed, sighing, wanting you to make a swift return.

He popped his head through the window blinds and glared at two people walking in the snow. They were holding hands, coming too close to the condo for his comfort. Shinsou hissed at them, but because the window was closed, they couldn’t hear him. Little white flecks fell from the sky and one of the people, a woman, held out her hands to catch them, laughing when they melted in her hand. Her partner smiled down at her, put their hands on her hips, and pressed their lips to her’s. Shinsou’s eyes widened at the gesture. He didn’t understand what they were doing but seeing the way the woman blushed and looked… so happy… it made him want to try that out on you.

The woman turned away, giggling at something her partner said, and locked eyes with Shinsou. Shinsou didn’t bat a lash at her but still she scowled back and pulled her partner farther along the path and away from the condo.

Shinsou sprawled out on the bed. “I love you, pretty kitty,” he said to himself, reimagining you saying that to him like you did on the night he changed. He groaned and moseyed over to your laundry basket. You’d ordered one for him, saying that you wanted to keep things neat and separated even though the two of you were sharing nearly everything else, but he didn’t mind. His basket smelled like him while yours… well, yours smelled like you.

He tipped your basket over, sifting through the mountain of clothes to find the sweater he liked the most, wanting to feel closer to you. He couldn’t find it; it must’ve either been hanging up or in the terrible danger machine with all that foamy water that made loud noises in the middle of the night, but what he did find was much better.

A small lacy piece that stretched out when Shinsou pulled on it. It smelled like you but not like your sweaters did. Shinsou’s ears went back before bringing the item to his nose, inhaling the delicious, musky aroma. What in the world could this be? Tiny pants? He licked a strip across where the scent wafted the strongest and his body shuddered, the same nuisance he’d not gotten used to yet came straining against his own pants.

Shinsou rested the small clothing item on the floor, glaring down at it, wondering how something so small could make his body react in that way. His hands went down to paw at the sudden sensitive bulge, clenching his jaw when the member began to throb. Shinsou got down on his hands and knees and dipped his hips to rub away this sudden burden, burrowing his nose into your tiny pants, imagining the floor was you.

Shinsou began to purr, the more he rubbed himself on the carpet, the tighter his belly felt, and thought about you running your fingers through his hair. He heard your late night sighs in his head and he closed his eyes, guiding his clothed shaft faster against the floor. He clawed into the carpet, grooving himself harder and harder, missing the warmth of your skin. It felt good but it wasn’t enough. Frustrated, he pulled his pants down and grabbed the bulge, thumb curiously rubbing the bit of pre-cum seeping out of his slit. He laid down on his back, holding your underwear up to his face, inhaling your essence, impatiently stroking his erection, needing you to be there with him.

“Fuck,” he grunted, thinking about your human purrs. “That’s a good kitty. Hah~ Yeah, you like it when I touch you like this. Now you know you’re my human. You’re my girl. That’s right, purr for me, pretty kitty.” He bit his lip, feeling a surge build up in his loins. He pictured you on top of him, looking into his eyes, licking your lips, touching him. He wanted you. He wanted you to know how you made him feel, he wanted to make you feel exactly what he was feeling. “Feels so good, human. My human, my Y/N. You like this, don’t you? Haaah~!”

The throbbing got worse as his stomach spasmed. Shinsou brought your lace down to his cock and released his load into it, catching every last surprising drop of his own essence into your intimate fabric. He panted, wiping at the sweat that built up on his forehead. God, what was that.

Shinsou bundled the fabric into a ball, using it to wipe at the tip of his sensitive cock.He held the ball in his hands for too long after he got his pants back on, enjoying the idea of something of his mixing with you far too much, before realizing that you probably wouldn’t be too happy with how he’d gone about soiling something of yours. If he threw it back into the basket, surely you’d discover it. Besides that, it wasn’t yours anymore, right? It was his. He claimed it. With that in mind, he climbed back onto the bed, gave the lace on last whiff, and dropped it into Shinsou’s secret corner where he kept all his favorite toys hidden while he was a cat.

Feeling sleepier than usual, Shinsou decided to watch the rest of the weird pointed knife show on the television. His attention was only piqued when there was no more fighting, and a man and a woman were laying naked by a fireplace, whispering lewd things that were hidden in deeper context. Shinsou watched them kiss, and it wasn’t like the two people outside of the condo. This kissing was messier, more passionate, more of what Shinsou wanted with you, and- oh! The bulge came back. Shinsou had no idea how much time had passed, but since the show hadn’t ended yet, he figured it’d be a while until you get home. He reached over the side of the bed, feeling around for his new treasure. He skidded past a crinkle ball he no longer cared and fingered a feathered toy that was ripped to near shreds. He narrowed his eyes. He just put it there, where could it-?

The front door opened and Shinsou nearly jumped out of his skin. He heard your soft humming and the sound of paper bags placed on the kitchen counter. Shinsou scrambled to look normal but only managed to roll himself into a ball while he waited for you to enter the room. He closed his eyes and feigned a snore.

“Shinsou, I got sweet cream and fish sticks!” You happily chirped as you entered the room. Shinsou had no idea why he pretended to sleep, perhaps that was a more human instinct but it was worth it to have you gently caress his cheeks while he pretended to dream.

“Such a baby cat,” you sweetly cooed at him and Shinsou began to purr in response, giving himself away. You clicked your tongue and pulled away but Shinsou grabbed you before you could leave the bed.

“I missed you,” he sleepily whispered, rubbing his forehead against your arm.

“At least it was a quick trip,” you replied, nonchalantly trying to ignore how flustered you were at Shinsou’s affection. He pulled on your arm and, with little resistance, got you into bed. He pressed his nose into your collarbone, inhaling deeply, trying to find and know everything you’d come in contact with while you were away.

“It’s hot in here,” you noted out loud, looking anywhere besides the cat-man, “and I see you made a mess.”

“You were around some other guy.”

It was a simple statement, one that shouldn’t really mean anything to you if Shinsou hadn’t said ‘other’ guy, as if there was any one guy in your life to begin with. “Yeah, probably the cashier.”

A cashier? That sounded dangerous. “Did he touch you?” He asked, tugging on your shirt collar. “I don’t like this smell… I don’t… I don’t like you leaving.”

You sighed and pushed Shinsou away by his forehead, sniffing your shirt collar to see if you could tell whatever it was he was going on about. “I’m not gonna apologize for getting you food.”

Shinsou pouted and reached again for your shirt but you smacked his hand away and stood up. You frowned when you saw his ears fall back. Damn all his cute kitten characteristics. He’d just have to get used to you leaving sometimes. You really couldn’t let yourself feel bad or give in to his childish antics. This was your house. Still, you should probably make him something so he can feel at least a little bit better. He really should try an apple.

Shinsou waited for you to begin snoring softly. Dinner that night had been full of you talking at him all about nutrition and what humans had to eat, and Shinsou silently pondering about your life outside of the condo. Who had touched you? Who kissed you or made you giggle or sigh or purr in the past? Was there ever anybody else? When he was a cat, whenever anybody stopped by, Shinsou had always stayed hidden. He didn’t like anybody but you. It irked them that he wasn’t more prying back then. He could have learned so much more about you!

The curious kitty gripped the sheets next to you, looking down on your sleeping form. You’d already showered so he couldn’t smell the person he did before and it was infuriating. He was supposed to be the one to claim you. Nobody else cared about you like he did!

He groaned and rested his head on your chest, breathing you in. Even if you were clean, you still smelled good. Recalling the scent he’d gotten for your laundry before, he felt his length harden against your side. God, what was it about you that got him like this? He never felt this way when he was a cat. He loved you back then, sure, but this was different. This was bitter and it ached.

Shsinsou didn’t realize he was rubbing his shaft on you until he feels a bit of wetness leak out from the slit in his cock. Fuck, it felt so good having his hand wrapped around himself earlier. He only wished you could feel something similar, then you’d never want to be claimed by any other man.

“You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?” He asked while nuzzling himself against your soft, squishy breast. He chirped at the feeling, everything about you was so nice. His hand slid across your stomach to grip your side, lightly to not wake you. You were such a heavy sleeper and even though you weren’t snoring anymore, he knew it took a lot to wake you up. He just couldn’t bite you.

He licked you through the fabric of your shirt, waiting to see your nipples pucker, like little buttons waiting to be squeezed. Shinsou considered what he was doing for only a second before deciding to run his hands under your shirt to palm your breasts.

“Ahhhah.” Shinsou eyed you after that little squeak escaped your mouth. Your eyes stayed closed but your rubbed your thighs together. Good. Shinsou pushed you shirt all the way up so he can drag his tongue across your skin, waiting for those little prickles to appear on your flesh. You let out another moan and that Shinsou shuddered, the aching in his pants becoming more unbearable.

“Yeah, kitten?” He squeezed your side. “You don’t want to be touched by anyone else but me, huh?” Shinsou rubbed his cheeks across your sensitive flesh. “‘Cause that would be really bad for you.”

You said nothing, of course, but he took your heavy breathing as compliance. Shinsou moved further down your body, raking his nails along your sides, enjoying the sight of you squirming underneath him.

“‘Cause nobody would treat you as well as I can…” his hands ghosted over your pajamas shorts, searching for the part of your body that would be similar to his, but even when he pressed down, he found nothing. You did gasp though, and unlike all the other times Shinsou immediately retreated in fear of your fury, he stood stock still and waited for your eyes to flutter open. They never did.

Curious, he dipped down to your pelvic bone, rubbing his face over your shorts. There wasn’t anything there but a soft indent, but the smell, similar to the aroma from the lace he kept hidden but less musky, got his pupils dilating.

“Tiny pants?” Shinsou travels the indent in your shorts with his tongue and watched your fingers knead at the sheets. He breathed you in groaning to himself, relishing that fantastic scent that drive his hormones wild, before pushing his tongue harder into you making you sigh louder than before.

He clawed at your elastic waistband, wanting so badly to have more of you, and he pulled them down to reveal even cuter tiny pants than he’d found before. He traced a finger down the soft fabric, noting the moistness he felt the further down he traveled. Hungrier than ever, he tongued the fabric, tasting that delicious musk he’d fallen in love with immediately. “Hell, kitten, why do you taste so good?”

He pulled the fabric to the side and gasped lightly at your glistening perfection. He had no idea what he was looking at, bare and beautiful, all he knew was that he fucking needed it.

He ate you like he was starving for it, stopping only to check in your through half-lidded eyes, relieved to see only the rising and falling of your chest. His tongue dashing around the cute little nub that made you twitch so you could make those heavenly sighs. As an experiment, he let a finger prod into your wonderful hole that was feeding him so well, and feeling you clench around his digits told him he should continue what he was doing.

He curled into you, feeling the soft pad of your insides coat his fingers with all of you as he licked and sucked until your body convulsed and you let out weak little whines for him. That didn’t stop his tongue’s journey; he knew he could make you purr and now that he finally got you to, he didn’t think he could stop. Your moans got louder and your shaking became erratic until-

You grabbed a fist full of Shinsou’s hair and yanked him upwards. “Shinsou!” You breathed, body flushed and covered in sweat. Shinsou wiped his mouth, panting back at you, glaring at you for interrupting his fun. “What… you can’t be doing…”

Before you could finish what you were saying, Shinsou pushed your shoulder back and towered over you. He rubbed his wet fingers together and lead them to your lips. “Taste it,” he commanded and with little restraint, he inserted his fingers into your mouth, allowing your tongue to swirl over him. He smirked. “Good kitty.”

He pulled his fingers away to replace them with his lips, copying what he’d seen on the television, he forced his tongue into your mouth and swallowed your defiant cries with jubilant ease. It was incredible to him that everything about you tasted so fucking good but god was it not enough. His cock throbbed and ached even while he grinded it against your warm heat, but he figured he knew exactly what to do about that.

He pulled back and swiftly stripped himself of his pajama pants, licking his lips, happy to see you weren’t objecting while you watched him stroking his member in front of you. He pulled your tiny pants down and lined his cock up with your slit, taking a moment to rub his head around in your essence.

“Wait- wait, Shinsou, this isn’t-!”

He leaned down, claimed your lips once more, and pressed into you.

You moaned louder than you did while you were sleeping, clawing harshly on to his back which Shinsou didn’t know he needed but surely wasn’t objecting to. He hissed in his pleasure, pumping into your tight cunt, grunting out swears while he peppered your neck with sloppy wet kisses. You grabbed the back of his head once more which only pushed him to growl and bite down hard onto your neck, making you clench around his shaft.

“What’d I tell you?” Shinsou asked as his thrusts get more erratic while he pounded into you. “Said that you’re mine, didn’t I?”

It seemed like Shinsou was filling every part of you up and you couldn’t object, you couldn’t stop this. A little part of you maybe wanted him to completely take you over like this but it was wrong. Still, he fit you like a glove and you couldn’t stop yourself from giving way to pleasure.

You could only mewl back at him like the cute little pet that you were. Shinsou rocked into you, fucking you harder and faster until the familiar buzz came traveling in between his hips. He pressed a hand down on your stomach to feel his cock rutting up against it, enjoying how pathetic you were underneath him. “Such a cute kitty,” he hissed through his teeth as his pleasure built up. “Such a brat for keeping this from me, you know? What kinda owner would deny their pet this, huh? This is why it should be the other way around.”

“Shinsou I’m-“ you squeezed your eyes shut, gripping harder onto his muscular back. You could feel every inch of him absolutely destroying you and it was far too much to handle!

He smirked down on you. “What is it, kitten? You gonna purr some more?”

“I’m ~haaaah ahh~ fuck, I’m coming, I’m aaah~” you arched your back and let a violent wave travel throughout your body, clamping down hard on Shinsou. He seethed back at you, pressing a hand down beside you to ride your wave and follow you down that ecstatic path, jetting into you, filling your throbbing cunt with his seed.

He panted against your collarbone, staying inside of you for as long as he could muster, savoring the feeling of you fluttering around him.

Your hands fell to your sides, too awestruck to make any sort of remark towards what just happened. You fucked your cat. No, no, you just got fucked by your cat. But you didn’t stop it!

Finally, Shinsou pulled out of you, letting his cum seep out and into your bed. He pulled your pajama bottoms back up and kissed your pelvis to show his affection or gratitude. You couldn’t tell.

“Shinsou…” you began but the indigo haired cat-man ignores you, humming as he grabbed your chin to pull you into another mouthy kiss.

“It’s time for you to sleep, human,” he whispered before nipping at your bottom lip. “I’ll be sure to make you some food in the morning.”

...what?! Shinsou didn’t make you food, you made him food! He pulled you over so your back was flush against his front, holding your warm body tightly as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“And don’t forget-“ he kissed your cheek “-I love you, pretty kitty.”

TAGS FOR EVERYTHING (SPICY): @ayeputita @yandere-inamorata @dee-madwriter @unboundbnha @rizamendoza808, @rubycubix @smbody-stole-mycar-radio @zellllyyyy @sarcastictextstuck @kpanime @captain-sin-allmight-queen @psionicsnow @wickedlewicked @ghost-of-todoroki @kattariapenn @im-an-adult-sometimes @bnhya @local-senpai @eggpienutbuttercroissant @usernamekate94 @reyvenclaww @hi-ho-and-hello

if I forgot to tag you and you’re on the list, dm me. this is the first thing I’ve posted since I changed the list so it’s messy dude.

#tw yandere #tw dubcon #neko!shinsou #hitoshi shinsou x reader #shinsou x reader #yandere!shinsou #yandere bnha #yandere male #reader insert #bnha x reader #Hitoshi x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #Hitoshi shinsou #lemon

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bunnygirl330 · 4 years

Text

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚔, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚝;

pairing: ander muñoz x omar shana, background guzman nunier osuna x nadia shana

genre: angst, fluff, future au

word count: 6.3k

warnings: internalized homophobia

summary: Ander's grandparents are coming to visit for the first time in 7 years, there's just one problem. They're Catholic and unaware of Ander's relationship with Omar. Ander is hoping that he can get through the week without them finding out and without him losing his temper.

a/n: The title of this comes from Take me to Church which I know is an old song now but I've always loved it and I felt like it really applied here. This fic is only edited by me so all mistakes are my own, please let me know if you find any so that I can fix them.I have seen a lot of fics about Omar coming out to his family because that's what they focus on in the show but I thought it would be interesting to see Ander's perspective of coming out to someone who wouldn't be as accepting as his mother.It was also really important to me to show someone accepting Ander (which in this case was Mateo) because I think a lot of the time Catholics (or any other badly portrayed religion) get a bad reputation and it's important to remember that not all strictly religious people will be unaccepting. AO3

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Ander had never dreaded anything more in his life than he was dreading this next week. He’d graduated high school, he’d got a degree, he’d even helped Omar come out to his parents but nothing was as bad as this. Ander hadn’t spoken to his grandparents in almost 7 years, except of course for the occasional phone call on is birthday and Christmas, but this was different. They were coming to stay for a week and there was absolutely no way he could avoid them for that long.

Ander’s grandparents know absolutely nothing about his life, they think they do, but none of it’s true. They didn’t go to his wedding, well they had never been invited, they thought he was single, much to his grandmother’s dismay, and Ander couldn’t stand the thought of having to keep up that charade for a whole week.

“Hey,” Ander snapped out of his trance as Omar’s arms snaked around his waist and he relaxed into his touch. “still thinking about next week?” Omar asked cautiously, knowing the impending visit was becoming an increasingly touchy subject for Ander.

“I can’t help it,” Ander whined “every time I think about it it makes me want to be sick!” Omar spun Ander round to face him,

“Listen, I know that this is difficult, but if we got through three years of a relationship without my parents knowing, then we can go through one more week of pretending.” Omar was trying his best to soothe his husband but he knew at this point that it was basically useless.

“But I thought we agreed we wouldn’t pretend again, not after all the shit we went through with your dad.” Omar gave Ander a look of sympathy as he pulled him into a hug, “Ugh,” Ander sighed “why do my grandparents have to be fucking Catholics?” Omar chuckled as Ander continued to grumble into his shoulder.

———

The next week came around far too quickly for Ander’s liking and before he knew it he was lying in bed with Omar dreading the next morning when his grandparents would arrive. Ander was spinning his wedding ring round on his finger so Omar could tell he was nervous.

“I don’t wanna make you feel any worse but you do know you’re gonna have to take that off when your grandparents are here right?”

“Oh my god, I didn’t even think about that!” Ander said as he dropped his head into his hands with a groan.

“It’s not like it’s just you. I can’t wear mine either, do you really think I’d be your roommate if I was married?” Ander looked up at Omar with a dejected look on his face.

“You must realise that that doesn’t make me feel better. All it does is make me feel as if we’re going backwards.” Ander looked as if he was about to cry and Omar felt a pang in his heart as he looked at his face, “To your parents I was your roommate for three years and I don’t know if I can do that again…” Ander trailed off as the tears began to fall from his eyes and his head fell onto Omar’s chest.

“I know…… I know,” Omar whispered as he started stroking his fingers over Ander’s soft curls, “but you heard what Azucena said, her parents are almost eighty and if you told them now they might end up dying from the shock.” Omar’s attempt to lighten the mood earned a small giggle from Ander but it sounded more like a hiccup because of his crying. “Plus you’ll still have me there, I won’t be gone. And you’ll have Guzman and Nadia. We’re here for you Ander. I promise.” Omar leaned down and kissed his hair. Ander looked up and kissed Omar, gently at first but then Omar opened his mouth and deepened the kiss. Everything would be alright, Ander knew that, because he had Omar, and nobody could ever take that away from him.

———

The next morning was a flurry of activity. Nadia and Guzman arrived at 9 to help them set up and Ander’s grandparents were due to arrive with his mother at around noon. All pictures resembling any sort of romantic relationship between Ander and Omar were taken down and hidden in the airing cupboard, all of Ander’s belongings were moved into the spare bedroom and Nadia had cleaned the entire apartment from head to toe by 11:50, Guzman had tried to help her but gave up after half an hour as Nadia saw him as more of a nuisance than a source of aid.

The four of them stood surveying the apartment, Ander had a look of complete helplessness on his face.

“It just looks….. empty.” Ander said. Of course, he didn’t mean empty in a sense of a lack of furniture and objects, they were all still exactly where they had been. What Ander meant was that it seemed empty of happiness and love, as if by taking pictures off the wall they had stripped his and Omar’s house of the very thing that made it their home. For Ander that wasn’t even the worst part though, he kept touching his ring finger expecting the cool metal to be there but each time was instead filled with a sense of dread. Omar and Ander had put their wedding rings back in their boxes earlier that morning and he felt as if a small piece of his soul had been put in the box too. Ander felt like he was about to break down but was interrupted by a knock at the door. Nadia and Guzman went to sit on the couch as Omar spun Ander to face him, gripping his shoulders tightly.

“Hey, listen to me, it’s gonna be okay. It’s not like they’re staying here so you don’t have to pretend all the time, it’s just a few hours. Besides, I’ll be right here the whole time.” Ander quickly pecked Omar on the lips and then tried to muster up the best smile he could as Omar joined the others on the couch.

“Grandma! Grandad! It’s so lovely to finally see you again.” Ander hugged his mother, shook hands with his grandfather and then finally came face to face with his grandmother, the source of all his nightmares over the past two months.

“Ander, honey, it’s been too long!” His grandmother exclaimed pinching his cheeks with excitement. Ander plastered a smile on his face and replied,

“I know it has Grandma, I’m happy you’re finally here.” his grandmother gave his cheeks one last squeeze and then released him.

The four of them made their way over to the living area where Nadia, Guzman and Omar had been awkwardly waiting, not entirely sure what to do amidst the family reunion. The three of them stood up to greet the guests, all giving Azucena a warm hug and shaking the hand of Ander’s grandfather. As his grandma approached Guzman her face lit up,

“Oh, Guzman, it’s so lovely to see you! I can’t believe you and Ander are still friends after all this time!”

“Mrs López, it’s lovely to see you too.” Guzman said politely as she pulled him into a hug.

“Oh don’t be silly, call me Camilla. I’ve known you for too long for you to still be calling me that.” Camilla looked over at Nadia - who was stood closely by Guzman’s side - with a slightly odd look on her face. “And who’s this?” She directed the question towards Guzman rather than Nadia herself much to Nadia’s annoyance, but she kept it hidden well.

“This is Nadia, my beautiful wife.” Guzman stated with a fond look down at her as he wrapped his arm around her waist. Nadia smiled towards Camilla and extended her hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ander’s told us so much about you.” This, of course, was a lie as Ander preferred not to speak of his grandparents, but she didn’t need to know that. Ander’s grandmother simply pursed her lips and nodded towards Nadia leaving her to awkwardly drop her hand back down to her side as Camilla’s hands stayed clutched to her small handbag. Ander, of course, had anticipated this as it was difficult enough for Camilla to accept that him and his mother were atheists and even without her hijab Nadia was clearly not of Spanish or Catholic descent. Still, it hurt Ander to see that his grandmother hadn’t learned to put aside her prejudices yet.

Now it was the moment of truth as Camilla approached Omar, Azucena and her father having already greeted him and sat down on the other end of the L-shaped couch. Camilla’s lips became a fine line as she slowly looked Omar up and down,

“And you are…?” she said slowly as Omar shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.

“I’m Omar, Nadia’s brother.” Omar said, refraining from sticking out his hand after her reaction to Nadia and deciding to stare down at his feet instead.

“Why does that qualify you to be here now? This is a family reunion for Ander, not Nadia, not even Guzman.” Camilla’s tone was becoming harsher with every word that came out of her mouth and Omar realised that he’d clearly used the wrong relationship to introduce himself. Ander could feel the tension building in the room and quickly moved to stand beside Omar clasping his shoulder in his hand as he did so.

“Grandma, Omar is also my best friend and my roommate. Remember? I told you about him on the phone when you called to say you were coming.”

“Hmm.” Was Camilla’s only reply as she stalked past the two of them to sit between her daughter and husband. As Ander moved to take a seat next to Omar his grandmother carefully cleared her throat and Ander moved to sit between her and his mother instead.

Camilla made small talk with Ander and Azucena for the next 15 minutes occasionally stopping to ask Guzman a question but blatantly ignoring the other two people in the room. At one point Nadia got up to start making lunch as she had offered to do the day before considering Ander couldn’t cook to save his life, Azucena offered to help but Omar stepped in instead clearly feeling uncomfortable in his current situation.

Lunch was ready 45 minutes later and the seven of them sat down to eat. Nadia had cooked Tortilla Española and patatas bravas in order to keep things traditionally Spanish for Ander’s grandparents.

“Guzman, your wife can cook very nicely.” Camilla said, ignoring the sour look on Nadia’s face that the compliment had been directed towards her husband rather than herself. As if somehow being married to Guzman made her just another part of him, but Nadia said nothing knowing they were here to support Ander.

“Why don’t you have a wife by now Ander?” Camilla turned to look at him with a slightly smug look on her face at her own ability to turn a conversation into something she was interested in. Ander had been dreading this all night, he knew it was bound to come up and yet he prayed that the further they got into the conversation the less likely she was to bring it up, oh how wrong he had been.

“Maybe he’s just waiting for the right person darling.” Ander’s grandfather piped up for basically the first time since they arrived, clearly happy to let his wife do most of the talking.

“Mateo hush, Ander can speak for himself.” Camilla snapped back at her husband.

“I’ve just been focusing on my career right now Grandma.” Ander spouted the pre-prepared lie out of his mouth before the other part of his brain could make him say something stupid. Something like, ‘I am married and I just never told you. Oh and also I’m married to a man.’ because as much as he wanted to say it he knew deep down that it wasn’t the right time, that it was never going to be the right time.

“And I’m sure that’s very good for you darling but my friend happens to have a granddaughter moving down here and it would be lovely if you could meet up with her. She’s very pretty, and I know that you’re not Catholic but it might be nice to see why it’s not such a bad thing to believe in God, despite what your mother may have told you.” She directed the last part of her sentence towards her daughter, the smug smile having returned to her face. Ander gritted his teeth to prevent himself from hurling his plate across the room towards his grandmother, he thought that he and Omar had gotten past all of the arranged marriages with Yusef and Iman but apparently his grandma also thought she had the right to decide who he married. He sighed, he couldn’t let his anger get the best of him, there was no way he’d be able to stop if he started so it was better just not to start.

“It’s very nice of you to offer Grandma but I think it’s better if I find someone on my own.” Ander said with a quick glance towards Omar who had a small smirk on his face, clearly he found this more amusing than Ander.

“But-” Camilla started to retaliate but was quickly cut off by Azucena.

“He said no, okay mum? If Ander wanted your help with his love life then he would ask.” Camilla turned back towards her food with a deep scowl and the four 20-year-olds had to suppress their happiness at Camilla being told to back off, especially Nadia who was beginning to get a sense of deja vu from her own parents before they knew Omar was gay.

Lunch continued in silence and not long after Azucena stated that she would take her parents home considering they’d had a long drive and that they would be back again tomorrow, Azucena and Ander having taken the week off work in order to spend time with Mateo and Camilla. Everyone stood to wave off the three of them and then Ander slammed the door shut after them with a sigh of relief.

“Well that was the longest three hours of my life.” Guzman stated, making the other three burst into laughter considering they all felt exactly the same way. They went to sit back on the couch, Nadia and Guzman intertwined on one side and Ander resting his head on Omar’s chest on the other. With this Ander turned towards Nadia with the intent of apologising for his grandmother’s behaviour but Nadia was too quick and knew Ander too well.

“Ander please don’t start apologising. It’s not your fault that your grandma is a little….. old-fashioned.” She said, trying to find the right word.

“I know but she was just so rude to you. To both of you.” Ander said turning his head back to look at Omar, “I feel like I should’ve said something….” he trailed off staring between the three of them.

“Ander don’t worry about it honestly.” Nadia said gently and then proceeded to move the subject onto something else.

Nadia and Guzman stayed for the rest of the day, the four of them chatting and watching films until they left at around 9.

As Ander gently closed the door behind them Omar came up behind him, spun him round and pushed him into the door Omar’s lips quickly coming into contact with his own as they kissed deeply.

“I’ve been dying to do that all day.” Omar said staring at Ander, his pupils blown with lust.

“Oh yeah?” Ander said with a smirk on his face as he wrapped his hands tightly around the back of Omar’s neck.

“Yeah.” Omar whispered into his ear as he bit down on his earlobe and started kissing down Ander’s neck eliciting small moans from Ander.

“Omar?” Ander moaned out.

“Yeah?”

“Take me to bed.” And so that’s exactly what Omar did.

———

The next few days went by in a whirlwind. Azucena and Ander were taking his grandparents to all the local landmarks, meeting up with several of their upper class friends, including Guzman, much to the delight of Camilla, especially since Nadia wasn’t able to attend that particular meet up. They ate in fancy restaurants while Ander filled his grandparents in on everything that was happening in his life, but of course leaving out the bits that included his marriage to another man. Every night Ander would return to Omar and their small apartment counting down the days until his grandparents went home.

It was three days before Camilla and Mateo were due to return home and Azucena had an emergency to deal with at Las Encinas so it was just Ander and his grandparents. Ander felt less uncomfortable than he thought he would as they sat down in a beautiful restaurant that his grandmother had been very insistent on coming to. He was actually beginning to believe that he might get through this week without everything going to shit and that was something he would count as a miracle.

They ordered their drinks and Camilla whispered something to the waiter before starting up a conversation with her grandson about his job. Camilla knew that Ander was focusing on his career, and she was incredibly proud of him, but at the same time she couldn’t help the sense of dread she felt whenever she thought about his lack of a wife. She wasn’t quite sure where the dread came from but she knew that she needed to make it go away and the easiest way to do that was to get Ander a wife, or at the very least a girlfriend. At that moment Camilla noticed Liliana approaching the table and a huge smile spread across her face.

“Liliana you look beautiful! I’m so glad we got to see you while we were here.” Camilla had stood up and pulled the girl into a warm embrace at the same time that Ander looked up to see who his grandma was talking to. Ander started to feel as if there was an alarm ringing in his ears and a voice in the back of his head telling him to run, but he couldn’t. He just sat there stock still and unable to move, looking intently at the woman in his grandmother’s arms.

“Ander, this is Liliana, the girl I told you about at lunch on Sunday. Liliana, this is Ander, my grandson.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Liliana said looking nervously between Ander and his grandmother. Ander looked over at Mateo who appeared to be as shocked as he was at this woman’s magical appearance at their family lunch.

“Umm, you too.” Ander said reaching out his hand. As angry as he was right now he didn’t want to seem rude, after all it wasn’t this poor girl’s fault that his grandmother appeared to know nothing about boundaries.

“Sit, sit.” Camilla said, ushering Liliana into the empty seat at the table, which happened to be beside Ander, before sitting back in her own.

For the next 90 minutes conversation flowed between Liliana and Camilla, the two of them occasionally looking at Ander but he remained silent, consumed with rage. He didn’t understand what made his grandma think that she had the right to do something like this, how she could possibly believe that it was ok. Not only was she wasting his time but this woman’s time as well. More than anything he just felt anger, towards his grandmother, towards this woman (even if she didn’t necessarily deserve it), towards this whole fucking restaurant.

“Ander darling, you’re being rather rude. You haven’t said more that two words to Liliana since she sat down. She manages this restaurant you know? She’s taken time out of her day to come and have dinner with us.” Rage surged through Ander at Camilla’s words, at the insinuation that out of everyone here, he was the rude one.

“Grandma, I’m sorry but you must be joking right? I told you on Sunday that this wasn’t something I was interested in.” A deep frown took it’s place on Camilla’s face as Liliana sank back slightly in her seat, feeling more than uncomfortable. “I told you but you didn’t listen.” Ander hissed, his voice rising with every word. “I cannot believe you!” He shouted, standing up from his chair, “I’m sorry,” he said towards Liliana, “but I’m not looking for a relationship right now let alone a wife.” and with that Ander stormed out of the restaurant and started walking quickly back towards his apartment, back towards Omar.

———

Ander stormed into the apartment slamming the door angrily behind him as Omar looked up from the pan he was hovered over, clearly planning to make dinner and assuming that Ander wouldn’t be back yet. Ander was cursing under his breath as he began to pace around in the space between the living room and the kitchen.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Omar asked as he tried to get Ander’s attention.

“My fucking grandmother tried to get me a wife that’s what’s fucking wrong!” Ander knew that his anger was being misdirected towards Omar but he couldn’t help it, he just wanted to hit something. Omar felt rage boil up inside him. How could she do something like this? Omar hated when people made Ander angry, or sad, or just any sort of negative emotion really. It wasn’t fair that just because his grandparents had certain religious beliefs that they felt entitled to make him get married. Omar could feel old feelings coming back from almost four years ago, before he’d come out to his parents, only now he felt them on Ander’s behalf. But that wasn’t what Omar needed to focus on right now, he could see Ander’s rage slowly turning into tears and he knew that he needed comfort. Omar pulled Ander into his arms and they stood there like that for 20 minutes while Ander cried into Omar’s shoulder and until both of their legs began to ache.

“Hey, come here. Give me one second.” Omar deposited a still sniffling Ander onto the couch and ran quickly into their bedroom and ran out a few seconds later with their wedding rings in his hand. On Sunday, being unsure of when Ander’s grandparents specific daily visits would be, Ander and Omar had decided to leave their wedding rings off until Camilla and Mateo had returned home, which had, for obvious reasons, made Ander even more depressed.

“Here.” Omar took Ander’s left hand in his as he sat down on the couch next to him. Omar placed Ander’s wedding ring back onto his finger and then brought his hand up to his lips and kissed it gently. “You don’t need to worry about your grandma finding you a wife, ‘cause you already have a husband, and I have no intention of letting you go.” Ander now had fresh tears in his eyes as Omar caressed his cheek gently. Ander silently took Omar’s wedding ring out of his hand and slipped it onto his finger, kissing Omar’s hand in the same way Omar had kissed his. Omar then cupped Ander’s cheek and pulled his face towards his own, their lips crashing together in a mixture of love, passion and tears. Ander felt his heart swell, he knew everything would always be okay, as long as he had Omar right there by his side.

———

The next day came far too quickly and before he knew it Ander was being ripped out of his blissful sleep by a loud knocking on the door.

The night before, after the two of them had calmed down, they’d had a quiet night in, eating the meal Omar had cooked and watching movies together until Omar had fallen asleep with his head on Ander’s chest.

Ander shook Omar awake as the knocking persisted and the two of them stared at each other. Confused and still half asleep Ander stumbled around grabbing a pair of jeans and a shirt and then ran towards the door, opening it with a pissed off look on his face. He came face to face with Guzman and Nadia who were looking at him sympathetically, as if he was a turtle who had landed on his back and couldn’t get back up.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Ander continued to stare at them as Guzman just laughed and pushed past him into the apartment.

“Relax man, we heard about your shitty day yesterday and brought you breakfast.” Guzman said, as if that was a good enough explanation for why they had interrupted Ander’s sleep, and on a Saturday of all the days, he didn’t even need to be awake for another 45 minutes.

“How did you even know about that?”

“Omar texted me last night and told me.” Nadia explained as she busied herself making breakfast and slapping Guzman’s hand away every time he tried to grab food. Ander spun around to look at Omar who had now appeared from their bedroom still rubbing his eyes in an attempt to wake himself up. Omar just shrugged and smiled sheepishly as he made his way to the kitchen to take over from Nadia as everyone knew Omar could make better waffles than Nadia ever could.

Once breakfast was ready the four of them stood around the kitchen island eating and listening as Ander once again recounted the horrors of his previous afternoon. Nadia was enraged at the idea of Camilla trying to find Ander a wife but that wasn’t particularly surprising considering she wasn’t Camilla’s biggest fan. Guzman however, found the entire situation absolutely hilarious saying he could just picture Ander’s face, which only made him laugh more. Omar tried very hard to keep a straight face but couldn’t help joining in and eventually Nadia did too, because if you really thought about it, it was quite funny. Ander was obviously and (mostly) openly gay so the idea of him being faced with a woman that wanted to marry him was far too funny for Guzman to comprehend.

On the other hand Ander failed to see the hilarity of the situation and stood there staring at his friends and his husband with a look of disdain on his face. He was about to start yelling at them to shut up when there was a rapid knocking at the door for the second time that morning.

“Who the fuck is here now? It’s only 9 o’clock in the morning can people not leave us in peace?” Ander grumbled as he made his way to the door and swiftly opened it to reveal his stony faced grandmother on the other side, Mateo and Azucena in tow.

Camilla walked past Ander and straight into the apartment stopping to stand in the living room and stare disapprovingly at the three adults clustered around the island in the kitchen. Mateo quickly followed and Azucena stopped to greet her son.

“I’m sorry.” She said “I tried to stop her but she wouldn’t listen.”

Omar, Guzman and Nadia had all stopped laughing and were now staring awkwardly anywhere other than Camilla, unable to look her in the eyes without bursting into a second round of hysterics. Eventually Ander made his way over to his grandparents with his mother trailing after him, he gave the other three a look telling them to stay where they were and to stay quiet.

Ander came to a stop in front of Camilla as Azucena joined her father on the couch. Ander’s hands were clasped nervously behind his back and he was staring intently at a particular spot on the floor. However Camilla just stood there staring straight at Ander with her lips pursed and her hands clasping her tiny handbag in front of her.

“Listen, Grandma-” Ander started.

“No you listen.” Clearly the patience had been a front to try and start the conversation. “All I was trying to do was find you a respectable wife without you having to do any of the hard work. I wasn’t even expecting you to marry her but you could have at least gone on a date, or tried to get to know her. But no! Instead you storm out of the restaurant like a little child, I mean, you’re 25 years old Ander, you could have at least had the courtesy to tell us all why exactly you refuse to date anyone.” Ander took a deep breath trying to process the whole of his grandmother’s rant without hitting something.

“Grandma, I know this is hard for you to understand but people don’t get married as young as they used to anymore and I’m trying really hard to build up my career before I take on the responsibility of another person in my life.” He hadn’t come this far to give up now, he was going to stick to his lie and if she didn’t like it then she was going to have to live with it. At least it was possible for her to live with this, which was more than could be said for the truth. Camilla took Ander’s hands in her own and looked up at him. “I know honey, and I know you’ll have a fantastic career but-” The smile and softness that had appeared on her face after Ander had said his explanation suddenly vanished as she gripped Ander’s left hand and looked down at it with an unreadable expression on her face.

The next ten seconds seemed like ten years as Ander pulled his hand from his grandmother’s grasp and swore profusely as he saw his wedding ring still on his finger from the night before. He’d gotten so used to wearing it that he didn’t even notice it anymore. Omar, who realised immediately what had happened, quickly shoved his left hand behind his back having also forgotten to remove his ring. That being said Omar wasn’t sure what use that would do now considering at this point the truth was inevitable. Guzman and Nadia stood staring at each other utterly confused. Azucena also swore as she put her head in her hands and Mateo just sat there with an oddly smug look on his face.

But Camilla…….. she just stood stock still, stunned into silence and unable to speak.

“You’re wearing… you’re wearing a w-wedding ring.” That was all she could manage to say as she stumbled backwards and landed on the couch next to her husband.

Guzman froze and Nadia looked quickly at her brother as it dawned on them both exactly what had just happened.

Ander felt defeated. He’d been lying to his grandparents for almost a week and for what? The truth came out anyway, he might as well have not bothered. But the one thing he knew right now was that he had to sort this out, he had to be honest. So with a new plan in mind he walked slowly and kneeled on the floor in front of his grandparents, looking up at them with eyes a mixture of happiness that he no longer had to lie but also anger at what he was going to have to do and at the inevitable reaction. Ander was about to open his mouth but Camilla beat him to it.

“So……. you’re married.” She stated, a blank expression her face. “Well at least now I have a proper reason as to why you didn’t like Liliana. But what I don’t quite understand is why you felt the need to lie to me. Is she not Catholic? Because that doesn’t bother me. And when can I meet her? Is she away? Will she be back in time for me to see her? Is she-”

Ander cut off his grandmother with a large sigh as he tried to get himself together. “That’s not it Grandma, okay? She’s none of those things, in fact, she’s not a she at all. I’m gay.” Ander said those last two words whilst staring his grandma right in the eye and then looking to his grandad. It felt so good to finally say it and for them to know. Mateo had a look on his face that Ander hadn’t expected. It was pride, happiness, almost. Camilla however looked white like a ghost. She was staring at Ander unable to speak, or move, or even breathe.

Ander quickly stood up, jogging to the kitchen, grabbing Omar’s hand and pulling Omar back towards his grandparents with him.

“Omar is my husband. We’ve been together for almost nine years and we got married two years ago and if you can’t accept that then I don’t want you in my home. In our home.” Ander stood defiantly staring at Camilla and Mateo with a huge smile on his face. He no longer cared what they though or how they reacted as Omar squeezed his hand and looked at him with pure love and admiration.

“Well, in that case I think it’s best if we leave.” Camilla said standing and avoiding Ander’s gaze before making her way to the door. “I’ll be waiting in the car and we’ll be leaving once we’ve collected our things. I can’t believe you knew about this Azucena.” She hissed out her last sentence and with that, she was gone. It wasn’t as if Ander hadn’t expected that exact reaction but it still hurt and he felt a shot of pain in his chest.

“I’m sorry Mama.” Ander said as he turned towards Azucena who pulled him into a tight hug.

“Shhhhh. It’s okay. It’ll all be fine.” She whispered as she stroked her sons hair and squeezed him tightly. “I should probably go and talk to her.” Azucena made her way towards the front door, grabbing her coat, and making her way out of the apartment. It was now silent. Omar wanted to hug and reassure Ander, as did Guzman and Nadia but the three of them were all put off by the presence of Mateo who was yet to leave, however the reason for his remaining presence was unknown and it was something that was making Ander increasingly nervous with every moment that passed.

Mateo stood slowly and made his way over to Ander. He then wrapped his arms around Ander’s form and hugged him. Ander was in shock as his grandfather was never one to hug him, or anyone else for that matter.

“I’m proud of you.” Said Mateo “I know how hard that must have been for you especially considering our religion portrays us as not particularly accepting people but I’ve had time to come to terms with it and to understand it.”

“But……. how?” Was all Ander could manage now that his grandad had released him.

“Well I tried to ignore it at first, all those years ago, but it gets to a point where some things are hard to ignore. The way that you two were looking at each other on Sunday, that was a look of love, not friendship. I expect it was easier for your grandma to ignore it, people tend to ignore the things that they don’t want to see. But don’t worry, she’ll come around eventually, it just might take her a while, that’s all.” Mateo reached his hand out towards Omar and Omar shook his hand gently, still shocked at Mateo’s speech, “It was lovely to meet you Omar, I’m glad that you make my grandson as happy as he is.” and with that he was gone.

“What the actual fuck just happened?” Was the only thing that Ander could come up with at that moment. The other three just shook their heads, not sure what to say about the old, Catholic, white man having just accepted his gay grandson.

Of course, Guzman was the one to break the silence saying, “Well, it could have gone worse.” which, for some reason, made them all burst into laughter.

“Hey,” Omar said having regained his composure and turned towards Ander, “you did it. You came out to them, now it’s up to them. They have to decide what they want to do, and if your grandma can’t accept it then that is not your fault.”

Ander couldn’t find any words so instead he just grabbed the back of Omar’s neck and crashed their lips together. The kiss was getting deeper and deeper and Guzman and Nadia felt extremely awkward.

“Okayyyyy, I think that’s our cue to leave.” Nadia said with a hint of a smile on her face as she grabbed Guzman by the hand and dragged him out of the apartment.

Meanwhile Ander had grabbed Omar’s waist and started walking backwards towards the bedroom, their lips still interlocked. They entered the bedroom and Ander felt the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed just before he fell back on it, Omar quickly climbing on top of him. Omar was about to start kissing him again when Ander put a hand on his chest to stop him.

“I love you.” Was all Ander said as he stared into the beautiful hazel of Omar’s eyes.

“I love you too.” Omar replied before he began to kiss Ander all over again. This, this was all Ander needed. He didn’t need his grandparents, he didn’t need a wife, he didn’t even need a job because the only thing that truly mattered to him was Omar and as long as Omar was here, with him, then everything would be perfect, always.

Thanks for reading! Like, comment and reblog! <3

#omander #omar x ander #ander x omar #elite #elite fanfiction #omander fanfiction #elite netflix #elite fanfic #ander munoz #omar shana #guzman nunier #guzman x nadia #nadia shana #nuzman

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johannas-motivational-insults · 4 years

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I for one was seething while Ms assh... Weaver basically confirmed to her designed punching bag that she keeps her around because she's a decent emotional support for Adora, so... wanna go even deeper and stab the reader s'more?

Oh I love stabbing the reader. And I love this scene so I’ll do the whole fuckin’ thing. (Commentary is bolded.)

This scene really is heartbreaking. It was easy for me to write, though, because Catra and (Shadow) Weaver have a very particular dynamic that I vibe with. It's such a pivotal scene for Catra too, because it confirms her fears that her success would be met with pushback and that Weaver really doesn’t love her or care about her at all. It makes her feel dehumanized both in the sense of being treated as subhuman and being treated as a tool. Something to be kept around only so long as it’s useful, discarded the second it’s not. This is the moment when she learns for certain just how little she means to Weaver and it’s painful to read.

*Content Warning for abuse*

The sound of keys in the front door makes Catra frown in confusion as she unloads the last of her books. No one is ever home this early. Even when Weaver doesn’t have any sponsored clubs or other teacher bullshit to deal with, 3:15 is the earliest she ever gets home.

But Catra’s always had sensitive ears, and those are definitely Ms. Weaver’s footsteps crossing the floor. When the woman pokes her head into the kitchen, no doubt to investigate the smell, Catra gives her a jerky nod. “Went to work after all?”

“No, I had some errands to run,” Weaver replies flatly. “Lying around all day like a lazy sack of meat doesn’t come naturally to me.”

Me @ Weaver:

Bitch she’s baking cookies, she’s clearly not lying around all day. Why you gotta be like that?

“Yeah, me neither,” mutters Catra, deflecting the obvious implication.

“I have something for you,” says Weaver, and Catra can’t help but look up in surprise. Weaver tosses her something and she instinctively moves to catch it. Just before it hits her hands, she realizes what it is and her stomach drops. Fingering the rough edges of the rolled up newspaper, she tries to breathe steadily as she forces her eyes up to meet Weaver’s. (Oh gotta love that trauma response.) The woman looks more unimpressed than predatory right now, but Catra knows better than anyone how that can change at the drop of a hat.

“Looks like your little ploy paid off,” she remarks.

Sighing, Catra sets the paper down on the table. “I told you, it wasn’t a ploy. Just a play.”

“I see. And I suppose the fact that this article was written by a close friend of yours is a complete coincidence.”

LOL clearly Weaver knows nothing about Entrapta if she thinks she could be bribed into writing something she doesn’t believe.

“I had nothing to do with that,” Catra denies swiftly. When Weaver’s expression doesn’t change, she insists, “Really, I swear.”

Weaver’s head tips the slightest bit, that familiar predatory tinge seeping into her eyes and voice. “And why should I believe you?”

Catra huffs, arms crossing defensively over her chest. “Why would I do something I know would get me in trouble?”

“I don’t know, Catra, you tell me,” says Weaver, slowly closing the gap between them. “It’s not as though you’ve been doing that your entire life.”

Me @ Weaver:

Like okay, it’s kinda true. But still.

Tensing more with every step Weaver takes, Catra raises her hands innocently, trying and failing not to shift her weight to her back foot. Not to give ground or show her fear. (This is making me super uncomfortable so I’m probably just gonna keep memeing at you all. Yes, I am aware that this is my fault. No, I am not sorry.) “Look, Entrapta has really strong opinions, and they’re always backed up with facts. I couldn’t just plant the idea in her head to write something like this.”

“Facts, you say?” muses Weaver. She reaches past Catra in a very deliberate show of invading her space, and Catra can’t help but suck a quick breath in through her teeth. But Weaver doesn’t touch her. All she does is pick up the paper and turn it over in her hands as though she is deep in thought. Then the motion stops, her eyes snapping up sharply. “So you agree with her.”

Weaver @ Catra:

“That’s not what I said,” protests Catra, her exasperation showing through her tenuous attempts at staying calm. “Stats are facts, not who deserves what awards or whatever. It’s not like I even care about that.”

Weaver shakes her head, her chuckle positively dripping with condescension. “Oh, now I know you’re lying.”

She is. She really is. And the fact that Weaver knows how much Catra cares and wants praise and approval and still denies her that makes me want to slap a bitch.

Also I just realized how closely this scene parallels the one in 1x04 and that actually wasn’t intentional but I’ll take it, clearly I’ve got the spirit of their relationship down.

“No, I-”

The newspaper smacks Catra across the cheek and she yelps in shock and pain, hand flying to her mouth.

It shouldn’t be a shock, not after 14 years of this shit. It still is, every time.

Ugh, ow.

“Enough of your lip,” hisses Weaver. “You know better than to contradict me.”

Hate is not a strong enough word for how I feel about this woman. Unfortunately there are too many people just like her. I’ve noticed the audience particularly hates this incarnation of Shadow Weaver and I think it’s because when she’s stripped of her magic the tactics she’s left with are far too familiar. I feel the same way.

Catra’s tongue swipes along her stinging lip, checking for blood. It comes back clean, but the lack of physical damage does nothing to calm the quiet rage boiling up inside of her. Weaver has never treated her with an ounce of respect, and now she has the gall to hit her with a rolled up newspaper like she’s a fucking animal. Subhuman. (I mean this feeling comes straight out of Demons but with Catra being human in this au it’s... not worse, definitely not, but it hits differently.) Catra’s fists clench and her chest puffs out as she straightens up to her full height (even if it’s nothing on Weaver).

“Do not touch me,” growls Catra, her voice low and dangerous in a way few people have ever heard it. “I’m an adult, that’s officially illegal now.”

Oh, you sweet summer child.

“Oh, you want to talk about the law?” counters Weaver, sounding far too calm in comparison. It just makes Catra angrier. And maybe a little scared. Somehow Weaver always makes her feel out of control, which never ceases to remind her who is in control. (Oof.) “I am under no obligation to let you live here, Catra, let alone at a significant discount. I do that out of the kindness of my heart. (LOL the what now?) Would you rather I throw you out in the streets like the stray you are?”

Yay for another insinuation that Catra is an animal. Nice going, Weaver.

Also, that is one of the meanest fucking lines I’ve ever written for Shadow Weaver and that’s saying something.

Those words hit Catra right in the gut, a blow far more painful than any physical one. They trigger a flood of other words that always seem to find her, stick to her no matter how she tries to slough them off, prove them wrong. Stray, nuisance, brat, worthless, unwanted, unloved...

But she was loved once. She was.

Oh boy, get ready for PAIN. So I wasn’t orginally planning to write this flashback but then I got a Very Bad Idea and I love torturing my readers (and myself) so this happened.

Kneeling in front of the open door, Papi opened his arms for a goodbye hug. When Catra stepped into them, she felt his smile against the side of her head. “Te amo, mija.”

“Yo también te amo, Papi,” said Catra, tiny arms tightening around his neck with a proud grin. He hadn’t taught her that one, she’d pieced it together on her own.

Papi chuckled in surprise and approval, ruffling her wild hair. “You’re a genius, little one. You know that?”

“Yep!” she answered, beaming with the completely earnest confidence only a precocious three year-old can muster.

Baby Catra’s behavior may be slightly inspired by my highly intelligent four year-old niece, who is also biracial with a multilingual father.

A couple playful taps of the horn from the driveway interrupted them, making Papi chuckle once again. Pulling away enough to look Catra in the eye, he winked conspiratorially. “Better not keep Mommy waiting. You know how she is.”

Catra shook her head soberly in agreement. Mommy was notoriously impatient, a speed demon on the road. Catra loved driving with her, laughing like a maniac from the backseat whenever she’d swerve and cuss out the idiots in her way. Those cackles never failed to make Mommy shoot Catra a smile in the rearview mirror, her transitory rage melting away in an instant at the sound. Still, it was never good being on the receiving end of that impatience.

(Catra’s mother is not at all inspired by my sister, however. She drives like a fucking granny.)

Papi quickly pecked Catra on the cheek before standing and waving goodbye, giving an appreciative nod to the babysitter as he pulled the door shut behind him.

He didn’t close it loudly or anything, but no sound is louder in Catra’s nightmares. She never saw either of them again.

“Answer me, Catra,” Ms. Weaver demands sternly.

That was what she had. And this is where she ended up.

Yeah, no wonder this version of Catra just assumes anything good in her life will be taken away. In some ways it might be worse than being Adora starting with nothing, because not only does Adora not remember what she lost in infancy (which wasn’t great to begin with), she has been steadily moving up in the world since. Catra’s had the opposite trajectory.

Suddenly noticing the tears rolling down her cheeks, Catra swipes them away with the back of her hand. Her throat hurts too much to swallow, so she doesn’t even bother trying to settle her voice. Her weakness is already on full display, anyway. Shaking her head, she whispers hoarsely, “No, Ms. Weaver.”

“Good,” Weaver says with finality as Catra sniffles, blinking back more tears. “You still live under my roof, and you will abide by my rules or face the consequences, just like anyone else.”

Oh boy, that’s a little too close for comfort. Again with this version of SW feeling especially despicable to the audience because it’s so familiar.

Just like anyone else. Sure.

Yeah you’re right Catra, go off.

As Weaver starts toward her room, Catra half-heartedly tosses a hand with an empty, resigned sigh. “What rules did I break this time?”

Weaver turns back, her expression dangerous, but Catra can’t muster the enthusiasm for fear anymore. Her eyes are still burning, voice tight with emotion as she confesses, “I’ve tried, Ms. Weaver. I-” Her voice cracks and she shakes her head, pinching her brow in shame. “I never wanted you to hate me.”

brb crying in the club

K but honestly the helplessness here is just heartbreaking. And it’s just like in canon. We saw, Catra did try to be a good soldier and make Shadow Weaver like her, but it was a lost cause. I mean I didn’t pull this dialogue directly from 2x06 but it’s a similar flavor for sure.

When Catra dares to look back up she finds that Weaver’s expression has softened slightly, though she still looks annoyed. “I never said I hate you,” she says, the uncharacteristic gentleness catching Catra off guard. “You’re just more trouble than you’re worth most of the time.”

It shouldn’t be a comfort. But it is, anyway. It is. Catra sniffles again, dipping her head to wipe her eyes on her shoulders.

The fact that this is a comforting answer to Catra is so fucked up and tragic but so befitting of their relationship.

“Though I will admit, you do have a way with Adora,” concedes Weaver, her tone very nearly impressed. “Not everyone can handle someone like that and keep them on task. I’ve had plenty come through my classroom.”

Wow, so we’re just being casually ableist now? Nice.

My thoughts exactly, Catra.

...Ableist and pragmatic.

Catra snorts under her breath, shaking her head as her eyes fall to the floor. How did she never put this together before? “That’s why you’re letting me stay.”

This truly is a gut punch moment. She thought maybe Weaver actually had a bit of affection for her or was invested in her future after all (which tracks for Catra because she is mean to the people she likes) and that’s why she let her stay, but no. As usual, it’s all about Adora. That is not going to bode well for the resentment moving forward.

“She does badly with her routine being disrupted, and she’s come to rely on you,” states Weaver, tipping her head in acknowledgement.

“Plus she’d hate you if you kicked me out,” Catra adds pointedly.

Weaver smiles, all teeth. “It is better for everyone this way, wouldn’t you say?”

Better for you, you mean.

“Sure,” mutters Catra. When that response earns her a look, she corrects herself. “Yes, Ms. Weaver.”

Eyes narrowed into slits, Weaver warns her, “Make no mistake, Catra. Adora would manage if you left us. If your behavioral issues begin to outweigh your usefulness, I reserve the right to evict you.” She cocks an expectant eyebrow. “Am I understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” mumbles Catra.

Poor Catra, I just...

“I care very much about Adora, and I won’t have you dragging her down with you.”

“I remember,” Catra says numbly, picking at her nails and avoiding Weaver’s gaze.

Ooooooooooof. Why do I insist on hurting myself so much with all these canon parallels?

Studying her intently for a moment, Weaver concludes, “Yes, I’m sure you do.” Then she turns and leaves without another word.

Well that was lovely. Anybody else want to reach through the screen and throttle a bitch? ‘Cause I sure do.

This scene doesn’t cause an immediate reaction on Catra’s part but it definitely moves her to a place where she’s very aware of her role and how useless it is to try to change it (at least in this house), and that makes everything a little more volatile. She’s not at a breaking point yet but she’s getting closer, it certainly takes the wind out of her sails a bit. She will recover in the short term because she is Catra and her stubbornness makes her very resilient, but it weighs her down and eventually she is going to snap. Y’all will love that, I’m sure. ;)

#ask games #director's commentary #spop #catradora #fanfic #hail mary #writing #asks #anon #catra and shadow weaver

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scarletfish · 4 years

Text

don’t worry, you will

Summary: Two weeks ago, Juno was engaged. Now he's quarantined with a complete stranger who can't operate a microwave and has no sense of personal space. And they were quarantined (oh my god, they were quarantined!)

Pairings: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel, background Vespa/Buddy in future chapters Word Count: 3000 Chapters: 1/5 Warnings: canon-typical alcohol abuse, depression AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24016468/chapters/57779629

A/N: Thanks @space-city-traffic for the prompt, and @pipis-pods for the suggestion that Juno and Vespa communicate and become friends

Chapter 1

Diamond paid you $1520 . Your Venmo balance is now $1520.

Fiancee. Rent. They’re the first and last things on Juno’s mind. He realizes he’s been sitting in the parking garage for over ten minutes, idling and staring at the alert on his cracked phone screen. He turns the car off.

His car with a long crack in the windshield. Everything is goddamn broken. He gets out of the car, pauses. Gets back in the car.

This calls for a detour.

***

Twenty minutes later, Juno is ready to take his newly acquired liquor to his room so he can introduce it to his newly acquired headache, but he still has one more stop to make.

Hyperion Apartment Complex twists eight stories high, and the tacky light grey brick facade is almost reflective at night. Semi-nice rooms in a mostly bad part of town. Hyperion city makes cheap look beautiful, the way fast-food commercials brush up plastic meat with shoe polish and glue. Diamond had always hated it.

Juno shoulders into the leasing office with two large grocery bags. The front desk is empty, and everything is fading or peeling. He rings the bell and sits on a peely, faded chair to wait. Might as well put the whisky to good use.

Taking a swig, he looks out the floor-length windows to the filmy outdoor pool. (Rita swears security fished a body out of it a couple years ago. Juno told her she needs to stop watching so much Law and Order.) For the hundredth time, he wonders if this is even worth it. She's going to ask questions, it's inevitable, and he doesn't know how to answer them. Doesn't know the answers himself.

He starts poking holes in the plastic grocery bags with his thumbnail. Takes another swig. Then a couple more-

“Boss!” Rita bobs into view with her tablet in hand, Cheeto dust on her bright purple jacket.

Since the police force scandal, Juno runs a small PI business from a shitty downtown office, which is where he met Rita. To this day Juno’s not sure how or when she wormed her way into a position he wasn't even offering. He’s also not sure when she sleeps. As far as he knows, the part time leasing office representative is her third job- she also does... something with computers.

“Rita,” swig, “I need a favor.” The shorter woman has already started talking, anticipating their usual back and forth.

“And I know I ain’t supposed to call you that here, but you are my boss, and I don’t think my other bosses-- wait, huh?” Confused by the change in script, Rita eyes the half-empty bottle of whisky in Juno’s hand. Her eyes jump to the clock.

“Mista Steel, are you okay?” One pro of hiring Rita: she’s very perceptive. Con of hiring Rita: way too perceptive.

“Fine. I need you to check someone out for me.” Rita’s eyes immediately light up.

“Oooooh, boss, another case already? Is it gonna be as exciting as the one with Mista Prince Julian? Are we gonna get to travel? I’ve always wanted to go somewhere exotic, like Maine, or Florida-” Juno cuts her off before she can get going.

“He was a dramatic politician with a cheating husband who ended up dead, Rita. Not everything is a Netflix rom-com.”

There's a bitterness in his tone that might not have been there a week ago, but the smaller woman doesn't notice. She's already sunk into her desk chair, head propped in both hands, sighing dreamily as she swivels back and forth. Time to bring out the big guns.

Juno reaches into his shopping bag and pulls out the chips, dangling them in front of Rita’s heart eyes. She snatches. He raises them just out of reach.

“Focus. It’s not a case. There’s this guy I need you to find. I’ve got name and place of employment. Can you do it or not?”

Rita pouts. “But boss,” she whines, “you don’t even need me for that, you can just Google his name like I showed you. I thought we were gonna do something exciting.” Juno pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah, well, Google isn’t gonna cut it this time, because,” I wasn’t really paying attention when you showed me that, “because, he’s highly secretive. And, that’s potential name. And potential place of employment, my source isn’t very,” he almost chokes on this last word, “reliable .”

The gears start turning. “Secretive… hang on Boss, is this another high-profiler? Have you been holding out on me?” She lowers her voice (not much). “Boss, this is about a case, right, you just can’t tell me because they might have tapped the phones!?”

What… who does she think they are? Juno drops his head into his hands to rub his temples. When Juno doesn't immediately contradict her, Rita continues in her stage whisper.

“Don’t worry Boss, Rita’s got your back! I’ll have this secretive criminal tracked down before they even know we’re on their case!”

“It’s not a case.”

“I’ll be as quiet as… as those monsters in The Quiet Place! Except they ain’t so quiet when they’re attacking people, but neither are we when we’ve got the bad guys cornered and we’re ready to take them out-”

Besides the recent political debacle with Julian and his missing husband (that one was a high-paying scrap tossed Juno’s way by an old friend), most of the cases he’s hired for are affair investigations and insurance fraud.

He’s certain neither he nor Rita have “taken anyone out” ever ... unless you count that time he tried to teach Rita to drive stick shift. Or the Hot Tub Debacle. But those were accidents.

Juno slings the bag of snacks onto her desk. “Just find out whatever you can about the guy, okay?”

“Fresh shrimp flavored?” Rita squeals, “Aw, you’re the best Mista Steel!” She digs into the large bag and talks around a mouthful of orange crumbs while Juno tries not to vomit in his mouth.

“Shipping ish ‘aking fore’er wi’ this crathy thirus thing goin’ gon,” she swallows, “speaking of, have you been watching the news Boss?”

“Every morning with my sunrise yoga. Listen Rita, I’ll check in with you tomorrow, okay?” Juno’s limbs are… heavy, suddenly. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s because he hasn’t slept well in that last, oh, ten years... or maybe it’s the weight of that single text, sitting in his phone for almost a week now. Looking at Rita, he thinks of telling her everything. Just spilling his guts right onto the scuffed linoleum floor.

The engagement. The text. The Craigslist ad. The man he’s supposed to be meeting tomorrow.

Rita’s still chattering on, and her voice cuts through the haze. “-but you never told me the name of Mister Criminal?” She happily shoves another handful of chips in her mouth. “Oooo, or is it so secret you need to write it down on a piece of paper and then I can read it and eat the paper-”

“Peter Ransom. Might’ve done a job for Vallas Vicky’s hotel recently.” That’s all he knows. “And he’s not a criminal Rita, he’s just a normal guy.”

Rita’s dialogue wanders around to closing borders and something about Italy, but Juno’s already moving towards the door (it shuts a bit harder than he intended). He doesn't know why he's so upset with Rita, when all she's done is try to cheer him up and offered her help. He makes his way back to the parking garage elevator. It smells like cotton candy vape and something vaguely mossy. A group of ragged kids is flying down the incline around the corner on penny boards.

Juno takes another swig of whiskey in front of the chrome doors and jams the elevator button about twenty times before he remembers.

Of course the fucking elevator is down for the weekend.

He wants to sit at the bottom of the stairwell and drink himself into oblivion. He want to wallow in this feeling for a moment, the feeling of the universe kicking him while he’s down.

Instead, he drags himself to the stairwell, drudges down the second floor hall, and practically collapses through the door.

An eager chittering greets him from the cage in the living room. “Hey, Smallfry.”

Diamond wouldn’t go near the ball of fluff (“It’s so dirty Juno,”) so when they moved in together eight months ago, the rabbit was a launching point for multiple arguments. Juno drops his grocery bag of Timothy hay and carrots by the cage, not bothering to stash it in the kitchen.

He pointedly doesn’t look in the smaller second bedroom that Diamond claimed as an office space. He doesn’t look at their shared bed either, because the sight of the rumpled sheets will just wrap around his ribcage and squeeze and squeeze until he can’t breathe again and everything is spinning-

Juno takes another swig and collapses on the couch. And then, because he wants to hate himself a bit, he thumbs through his phone to his fiancee’s most recent text. No matter how often Juno reads it, it never changes.

3:56AM: Diamond

Juno. I’ll forward my part of two month’s rent before the month is over. That should be long enough for you to find a temporary roommate, at least until the lease expires at the end of the year. Do what you’d like with the furniture.

Ex-fiancee.

***

Juno bolts upright, disoriented and confused. The decorative couch pillows left lines on his cheek, and he’s nursing the beginning of a monster headache. He gropes around for his phone. 7PM. It’s only been a few hours.

It feels like days. Months. Years.

Juno shivers. He left the door to the porch open, and a cool fall breeze is raising goosebumps on his arm. A nearby screen door slams, and heavy boots tread the balcony next door. “Hey piss-bucket, you been day drinking again?”

The green-haired nuisance next door is only loud when she chooses to be, so Juno knows she's hoping to stir him out for a cigarette or two. He wonders briefly when Buddy will be back. Vespa only gets this chatty when her partner is gone for long periods of time on work trips.

He toys with the idea of stepping out. Hey Vespa. How're the axe-throwing students? (She refuses to tell him what she does for work, so Juno assigns her a new job every night.)

She’ll respond with something like, Great. If your failed PI business finally tanks, we could always use some new targets.

Maybe if Juno gets drunk enough, he’ll tell her why he’s not planning on ever being sober again. Tell her that he’s such a fucked up human, his fiancee ghosted him three weeks before the wedding with no forwarding address. Over text.

She’ll have to laugh at that. It’s the goddamn joke of the century, and Juno’s the punchline.

He jumps violently when his phone starts ringing. “I know you can hear me, Steel,” Vespa sneers from her balcony.

Juno groans at the name lighting up his screen. He was wrong- he’s not the punchline. Fucking Mick Mercury is.

He almost sends it to voicemail, but at the last second he crosses to the balcony door, wrestles the screen closed as Vespa flips him off (“What, too busy getting wasted alone?”) and finally slides the door shut with a bang.

He leans against the wall by Smallfry’s cage.

“Whaddya want, Mick.” Juno’s brain struggles to keep up with the excited babble streaming out of the phone.

“Juno! That hit we got on your listing? The Peter guy? He messaged again!”

No one’s outright asked Juno, “Did your fiancee ghost you three weeks before your wedding over text?”, so he’s not lying to his friends, per se. He just isn’t ready for the inevitable string of I-told-you-so’s from Rita and Vespa, who have hated Diamond since the moment they waltzed into Juno’s life ten months ago and stomped all over his heart with their designer boots.

Mick, bless him, is blissfully ignorant of Juno’s recent string of unfortunate life events. He’s blissfully ignorant about most things, actually, but his unending stream of well-intentioned business ventures mean he knows how to advertise.

Juno isn’t sure who Craig is, or why he keeps lists of random shit online. All he knows is that he can't afford rent on his own, and Mick owed him a favor. A lot of favors.

“Let me guess, he's found something better and he's not interested anymore.”

Fuck Diamond for putting him in this situation. Even if he deserves it. Even if he should’ve known better.

“No, Juno! He says, and I quote,” he clears his throat and reads dramatically, “‘Juno, would it be possible to move our rendezvous sooner? Due to personal issues I find I’m in need of accommodations a bit sooner than expected, and your ad did say the room was available post haste.’” Mick drops his voice back to normal. “He wants to meet sooner!”

“Yeah, I got that Mick. ‘Post haste’?”

“I went for a 'trustworthy but not desperate' vibe, ya feel?” Juno is quickly wishing he read and approved the ad before Mick posted it across the internet in his name.

“All right Mick, whatever, sure, just let me know when you set it up for.” There’s a long, telling silence. “...Mick?”

“Okay so here’s the thing,” and with that, Juno knows the universe is screwing with him again, “I kinda already told him you could meet him tomorrow morning? At eight? And I gave him the address of the apartment?” His words get faster with each blow.

“You gave him the address? Goddamn it Mick, I thought we were meeting for coffee somewhere first so I could make sure he’s not some wackjob who wants to hack me to pieces and wear my skin as a suit!” Juno’s less worried about becoming a potential skin suit and more worried about waking up before noon with the spectacular hangover he’s got planned, but he’s not going to tell Mick that.

“Oh Juno, you’re so,” he chuckles, “you’re hilarious! Skin suit. Ha! You’ve been watching Law and Order with Rita again, haven’t you?” Juno resists the urge to slam his head into the wall and end it all.

“Anyways, get some sleep tonight and make a good impression on our friend tomorrow! I’ll pass him your number. And hey, maybe you could mention my new Hair-in-a-Can line? One good turn and all that. The recall went real smooth with the last one!”

“Mick, hang on, listen to me-” Juno’s cut off by a loud crash in the background.

“Sorry Juno, gotta go, the cans are a bit more,” a high-pitched scream, “uh, high-pressured than we expected, good luck pal, don’t be a stranger!”

The line goes dead. Perfect. Juno eyes Smallfry.

“Not like I have anything worth stealing, huh? Unless he deals in small, neurotic rabbits.” He restocks Smallfry’s hay before he’s too drunk to remember. Vespa's convinced that a hungry rabbit might be inclined to chew through the apartment wall and go on a carnivorous hunting spree.

“My last roommate had a rabbit. It got mad when their sister’s rabbit got a nicer cage, so it chewed straight through the bars and,” she snapped her fingers, “chomp chomp. Nothing left but rabbits feet.”

“Bullshit.”

“What are you Steel, the rabbit whisperer? Okay, maybe it was a gerbil! Whatever, same difference.”

Then he grabs an extra blanket from the hall closet (it really is starting to get cold), two bottles of liquor, and the TV remote and settles onto the couch for another long night.

***

The best mornings are the mornings Juno wakes up still drunk and pleasantly fuzzy. This is not one of those mornings.

His alarm is playing quite loudly, meaning it’s probably been going off for quite some time, and two things happen in quick succession as his brain painfully struggles towards consciousness.

He rolls over in bed to grab at his phone and realizes the bed is actually a narrow couch. He hits the floor with a heavy thump . He's blindly swiping at the floor trying to turn the damn thing off, ignoring the nagging anxiety that he’s forgotten something important... There!

Blearily, he reads the alarm label… “SOUR CREAM.” What?

There’s a sharp knock at his door. His tipsy brain stumbles around in tight circles. He set that alarm weeks ago while cooking… never bothered to re-label it.... that doesn’t explain…

A second set of knocking, more forceful this time, accompanied by a muffled voice.

It’s 7:50AM and he honestly can’t remember why he’s supposed to be waking up or who could possibly be at the door. No, wait… he vaguely remembers…

Mick. The phone call. The desperate roommate.

All at once, Juno’s certain that he doesn’t need a roommate. It’s only four months after all, and the idea of a complete stranger snooping around his stuff, asking questions about his life, getting tangled up with his job, makes Juno’s skin crawl. It’s not worth the money. He can figure that out… somehow.

It’s decided. He’ll ignore the knocking. This Peter guy will eventually give up, he’ll tell Mick to take down the advertisement, and he’ll figure something else out.

Then a noise outside the door makes his blood run cold. He knows that giggle.

“Sorry Mista Criminal, lemme just, ngh-hungh, try that key.” Rita, traitor secretary and ex-best friend, is using her spare key to let this man into Juno’s apartment. The stranger’s muffled voice leaks through the door. “Could you maybe...?”

There’s no time to think. Juno’s only on the second floor, there are bushes underneath the window. If he can get out quick enough, he might be able to avoid a meeting altogether-

“Thank you Rita, you are an absolute gem, and twice as beautiful if I might add...” the door clicks open.

Might’ve been able to. If he’d moved a little quicker.

“Hello! Juno, I presume?”

Fuck.

#peter nureyev #juno steel #jupeter #the penumbra podcast #quarantine au #omg they were roommates #this turned into a Whole Thing #multi-chapter #Juno Steel and the Series of Unfortunate Life Events

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dailyaudiobible · 5 years

Text

03/13/2020 DAB Transcript

Numbers 19:1-20:29, Luke 1:1-25, Psalms 56:1-13, Proverbs 11:8

Today is the 13th day of March, welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I’m Brian it’s great to be here. It's great to be here with you today as we prepare to reach the conclusion of another one of our weeks together and draw our workweek to a close. And even as we do that, we’re going to be entering a new book today, the gospel of Luke when we get to the New Testament and we’ll talk about that when we get there, but first let's continue our journey through the book of Numbers. We’re reading from the Contemporary English Version this week. And today, Numbers 19 and 20.

Introduction to the book of Luke:

Okay. So, this brings us to the gospel of Luke. And Luke is a little bit more of an intriguing gospel. It's the third of the synoptic Gospels. And as we talked about as we encountered the other two Gospels, the synoptic Gospels are called that because they're very similar in the way they’re composed and they definitely share some of the same stories, even some of the same phrases, very similar in the way that their laid out, so similar that it…it's widely believed by scholars that one couldn't exist without the other. And even though they were written at different times and by two different people, they were…well…especially Mark was used as source material for the others. And we’ll enjoy the gospel of Luke tremendously because it’s the tightest, most concise of the Gospels. It's written well. It flows well and it’s a narrative style. Abd we’ll get used to this flow because we’ll see it again because Luke didn't only write the gospel of Luke, he also wrote the book of Acts that we’ll come to after we finish the Gospels. Now, we’ve read Matthew and Mark. We’re now gonna read Luke and we’ll encounter some of the same stories from a bit of a different perspective because the Gospels have a different perspective and a purpose. So, for example, when we read the Gospel of Matthew when we started our year together, and in Matthew we noticed Jesus was fulfilling prophecies. Like that was the point. This was done because it fulfilled this prophecy. And, so, Jesus is fulfilling all these prophecies letting us know that this is a narrative established to speak to Hebrew people. Luke will take us through these stories again that we’re familiar…that we’re familiar with, but Luke is written to a Gentile audience. And, so, it's revealing that the gospel is inclusive, is not a Hebrew only religion. It includes the whole world and welcomes all who believe into the family. And, so, with that in mind we begin the third gospel. Luke chapter 1 verses 1 to 25.

Commentary:

Okay, so it may not have seemed like it as we were reading through our…our reading from Numbers today but some pretty monumental shifts happened today in the Old Testament. So, let’s just look at those so…so we have context for where were going. The children of Israel have moved out. They've been disqualified from moving into the Promise Land. They’ve been turned back into the desert to wander until the whole first generation, the people who came out of Egypt dies leaving basically the conquest of the Promise Land to the second-generation, to the children who were supposed to grow up free in the land of promise. They’re gonna have to do what their parents didn't. And that's a pretty big deal. That's why there's a lot of this review going on about the laws. And one thing that we should gather is that God is expecting precision. He is expecting ultimate obedience here. They are in the wilderness where utter dependence upon God is being made more and more apparent to them and their complaining about it every time their faith gets stretched. And that sounds so familiar. Nevertheless, there out in the wilderness, and they need to get somewhere. And to get somewhere the best way that they can go that they're being led is through the land of Edom, but the Edomites are like, “absolutely not.” And we could…we could understand why they would have concerns. “Like a million people are going to come on this main road and walk through and they're gonna pay for their water and can do anything. Like that just doesn't quite add up. So, you can understand why they would have some pushback but the important piece about this is what Moses said, “we are family.” And that is true. The Hebrew people were the descendants of Jacob, the Edomites were the descendants of Esau - Jacob and Esau. And if we’ll remember the misdirection and trickery of Jacob that was visited on Esau., well we can sort of see that the family rift is centuries old and the Edomites won't let them pass. That's a mistake on the part of the Edomites and there are other things along the way that they do, and an entire book of minor prophecy will be devoted to the Edomites once we get near the end of our year together. But this is important. They turned to their family to get where they needed to go, and they were rejected. And, so, there's no water. The people are grumbling and complaining to Moses again, “we would've been better off if he died before the tent of meeting than to die of thirst out here in the desert. We would've been better off in Egypt.” And this becoming a recurring theme. “We’re in the wilderness going toward the Promise Land, but slavery was better. Let's go back to slavery again.” Sounds so familiar because we walk in these footsteps so often. God tells Moses to go out to a rock and command it to give water. He gathers the people together and gets his walking stick as God had told him to do and then he basically yells at the people, “you rebels. You, rebellious people.” Right? “You stiff necked people. Do we have to bring water out of this rock?” And then Moses hits the rock twice and water comes out, but that's not what God told Moses to do. He told Moses to go speak to the rock. He didn't tell him to yell at the people and ask them if he had to bring water out of the rock for them, and what a nuisance and all this, and show anger and strike the rock. So, God gave them the water that they needed to survive. Unfortunately, the anger and rebelliousness in Moses heart disqualified him from leading the people into the Promise Land. That will also be left for the next generation. And after that Moses and Aaron and his son Eliezer climbed Mount Hor. Eliezer was installed as the high priest and Aaron passed from the story. One interesting thing, one thing that was pointed out to me when I was much, much younger, that I’ve always held onto because the exclusion of Moses from leading the people into the Promise Land seems pretty…pretty harsh. Like he didn't get to go. Like he got to lead them, but he didn't get to go. But we do find Moses in the Promise Land. We find him along with Jesus at His transfiguration speaking to Jesus in the Promise Land.

And speaking of Jesus, we’re just…just getting going in the gospel of Luke. And, so, what’s being set up here is the story of Zechariah and his wife Elizabeth who were very old but were foretold that they would be having a child in their old age. And, of course, there’s some clear parallels here with Abraham and Sarah. And Zechariah was told as a priest of God in the temple offering incense before the Lord, he was told by an angelic visitation that he would have a son, that his son would be named John, that he would be a prophetic voice that would prepare the way of the Lord. And this prophetic voice would be really the first prophet in 400 years, the time that passes between the Old and New Testaments. So, we can often think that John shows up out of the wilderness wearing camel's hair and eating grasshoppers, and that's true, that's what the Bible says but he got there somehow. He's the son of a priest, a vision and angelic vision happened in the temple. And when John emerged from the temple. He couldn't speak. This wouldn’t go unnoticed until somebody just shows up out of the wilderness with a message of repentance. There would've been a lot of wondering about who this child might be, and we’ll pick up with that story tomorrow.

Prayer:

Father, we thank You for Your word. We thank You for its beauty in the way that it can touch so many parts of our lives, that it can touch us on so many levels and cause us to ponder and contemplate our own lives and our own path. And, so, we are so grateful for this and we are so grateful for one another. We are so grateful that we can do this together in community. So, come Holy Spirit and plant the words from the Scriptures into the soil of our lives today. And may they grow and yield fruit for Your kingdom. We ask this in the name of Jesus. Amen.

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killervibe · 5 years

Note

“You make me happy.” 💛😍

Where The Heart Is

Caitlin gathered her hair at the base of her neck up in a high ponytail, flexing her elastic over her wrist to tie it up as she watched her boyfriend talk with the guys. She bent down, taping up the last of the maze of brown cardboard boxes, and now that there were no more curtains to filter through, sunlight went streaming down in harsh streaks from the left corner of her large window.

Caitlin squinted in spite of the glare, keeping her eyes on her work. They stripped the carpet yesterday so she was kneeling now on the horrifically dirty wooden flooring she was rather embarrassed to have been hiding for so many years. Her ripped jeans strained at her knees. Barry had stared at them in disbelief when she answered the door this morning when this all started. Iris smacked him in the chest, walking right past with her takeout breakfast containers and Jitters to go coffee trays, placing them on her lonely bare table in the middle of her otherwise empty kitchen.

“I’m allowed to wear holes in my pants,” Caitlin had said stiffly, though she was smiling because her best friends were right to be so surprised. The whole reason why she had them on was because she found them buried at the back of her closet when she finally got to the end of it with the price tag still attached. She’s half convinced it was a purchase made by Frost in her dark age. Top that with Caitlin dumbly realizing this morning that she left her suitcase with what she was planning to wear for the next week at Star Labs to avoid mix-ups, and this job was a lot more labour intensive than she thought. Her cute white chinos she had originally picked out weren’t going to cut it.

Anyway, Caitlin grabbed the big black sharpie and wrote on the masking tape that this was her last box of photo albums and trinkets from her parents she had neatly tucked away in a drawer beside her living room couch. Cisco was with that couch now. They were throwing it away, deeming it unsalvageable. Barry bled on it too much to warrant keeping it, even with the plastic wrapping Caitlin had the wise urge to cover it with after 2016.

Wally zipped in twice, wiping his brow. “Cisco’s place is almost done, but the pool table, sheesh. What do you want me to do with that?”

Cisco waved him off. “Leave that for last.” Caitlin licked her lips, eyes falling to his arms in his rolled up sleeves, unable to help herself as his muscles strained, opening a breach in the wide empty space.

See, moving day was actually a lot less work when you had a breacher, two speedsters, and a friend with very flexible long arms.

“Babe,” Cisco said. “A hand please?”

Caitlin nodded, standing up, directing Ralph and Barry into the dimensional vortex that lead to the alleyway outside.

“So,” Iris smirked, sitting down on the floor against her wall, next to the plugged in fan blasting a barely there breeze into her apartment. She shook her iced tea. “You thirsty?”

Caitlin raised an eyebrow. “…For Jitters?”

Iris snorted. Cisco popped back out the breach, took two boxes in his arms, and blew the bangs out of his eyes. His hair was neatly tucked back in a low bun, but his front pieces stayed loose because he was stylish like that. Caitlin watched as he took her silverware and walked right back out of the dimension to their new home.

“Nuh uh, girl. For that.”

Caitlin blushed toying with her necklace.

“Somebody’s new bed is getting christened tonight, is all I’m saying.”

Okay so Cisco was being very attractive right now, Caitlin was not about to deny that. He always was and he was her boyfriend so it’s not like there was anything problematic with that.

Except maybe that Iris had a point. Caitlin and Cisco had a tremendous amount of work to do before sunset to get settled in their new home and Caitlin was spending more time staring at his sweaty tousled HGTV transformation than her own fragiles. He kept sending her excited smiles because today was finally the day they’d get to sleep under one roof and call it their own, both of their names on the lease, with amenities that promise a long future like the four bedrooms (a workspace for each of them and maybe that last one for a little kid to grow up in…) the remodelled kitchen and frost durable insolation.

And she could feel the excitement bubbling in his veins at that idea because she had it too. The thought that they’d get to have that together, so she was feeling all kinds of emotions, but the strongest one hit her whenever Cisco came back with a confident grin wearing less layers on than the trip before.

“Can you please not bring up Cisco and Caitlin in bed? I just had to move it.”

Caitlin turned around, sticking her hands on her hips at Wally. “After all those times I caught you with Jesse in my Med Bay? You realize I have to sterilize everything right? Including the sheets?”

Wally flushed, scratching his head. “—I think I’m gonna—That pool table sure is—Yeah.” He sped off.

Caitlin reached forward, rolling her eyes fondly, giving Iris a hand. She took it gratefully, and Caitlin asked how Iris was doing in her second trimester.

~.~

Late into the afternoon, Cisco took her hand, lacing their fingers. “You tired?”

Caitlin shrugged. Not really, but she wasn’t the one who opened a good 200 breaches today. “Are you?”

He nodded, but his eyes were aglow. “I’m thinking we should try the new place down the street?”

“Which one?” she asked, tracing patterns into his skin with her thumb. She just liked seeing him bounce around.

“The korean one next to the grocery store.”

“Oh! I saw that one with Iris!. It did look good.”

“I’ll order it then,” Cisco said, pulling up the menu on his phone.

Caitlin looked out the window, unaccustomed to this new view. They were several stories high, like her old apartment, but they were facing a completely different part of Central City than she was used to. They were more closer to the edge of the city, which sounded like a nuisance but was actually a lot closer to Star Labs, and safer too. Metahumans loved to strike downtown, the insurance policies were getting ridiculous, so they decided to just ignore that hassle altogether. The area, too, was more residential. There was an urban park a few blocks down as well as public schools. She wondered if she’d be able to see yellow school buses making their way through traffic when making breakfast in the mornings.

Cisco listed off dishes from his phone. They both picked what they were in the mood for, and Cisco placed the order, fumbling for half a second when asked for the address. Caitlin laughed, shaking her head.

“I was thinking we’d start unpacking after dinner?”

“Can’t we ask Barry and Wally to do it for us?”

Cisco scoffed, using a pair of scissors to rip open a box labelled Dining. “And ruin all the fun? Think of all the bonding. The memories we’ll share tomorrow when we can’t find the spoons! The fights about our packing codes. Debating whose lamps get to go where? It’s iconic, Caitlin. These next three weeks of adjustment are pivotal.”

Caitlin leaned against the wall, feeling a little lovesick. “I never even owned any lamps to begin with. All my lamps were borrowed from you, weirdo.”

Cisco stuck out his tongue, digging into the box for the plastic plates. “If we can get the bedroom done by tonight, that’ll make me happy.”

“You make me happy.”

Cisco put down the plastic wrapper on their brand new island counter, giving her some side eye, amused. “You okay?”

Caitlin laughed and staked her claim, unable to keep her hands to herself anymore.

“Usually you’re the one to go all drill sergeant about organization. Especially—When—Mmph! Oh! Okay!”

Cisco kissed her back happily against the counter. She pulled away to tuck a flyaway hair from his nose, and he drew her back. Cisco kissed her slow and sensual, and she felt the sweat at the back of his neck, so she lowered the temperature of the palm of her hand to cool him down.

He whimpered in her mouth when she did that, pulling her even closer and sighing until he stopped to ask, “Is the fact that I’m speaking your language turning you on or is it the heat?”

Caitlin opened her eyes, running her tongue over her wet bottom lip, and deliberately held onto his bare arms, tugging off his button down completely so he was left in his tank top.

“Neither. It’s our first day in our home together. I can’t stop thinking about us and you’re making it very hard for me to keep my hands off you,” she explained, scratching her frosty nails lightly against his overheated skin.

Cisco blew more hair out of his face, not buying her whole story. “Not that I’m complaining but why?”

“Because that!” she exclaimed, pointing at his entire look. The damn stubble, the sexy hair, his everything. “That’s why!”

Cisco looked down at himself, wrinkling his nose, probably thinking that he needed a shower. Caitlin would not protest to that. If she joined him. “Ooooh. I see. You like my Manual Labour & Sweat & Grind & Tears chic. Really?”

“It’s not just the look,” Caitlin corrected. “I am also very much in love with you.”

Cisco gave her a shy smile. “Sometimes hearing you say that is still like a dream to me.”

Caitlin laughed softly and Cisco took her hand and brought her close, then twirled her around in a dance between the cardboard boxes and unplugged kitchen appliances.

Iris walked into the kitchen, a hand over her stomach. “Did one of you two order Korean BBQ? If yes, can I have some?”

She was kind to ignore their dorkiness as Caitlin looked up at her friend upside down. Cisco brought her up from his dip. “I thought you guys already ordered pizza from Keystone?”

Iris shrugged. “The boys ate it all. But the delivery guy is still waiting so…”

“Right!” Caitlin straightened up, dusting imaginary dirt off on her ripped jeans. “That was fast.”

They went to get their food, and dished it out on the plastic plates, but couldn’t find any forks. Cisco laughed as he opened more boxes, and Iris ate some of Caitlin’s meal with her hands.

~.~

Afternoon turned into evening, and by night their friends were gone. Their home was furnished with all the big things like tables and chairs, couches, desks and Cisco’s computer monitors (“because it’s important Caitlin, no it can’t wait until tomorrow—What like you had to have your stethoscope out today too. Mhmm— Exaaaactlyyyyy”), big kitchen necessities and yes, the pool table. Cisco was happy, because they didn’t finish their bedroom, but there were only eight boxes remaining, so they called it a win.

Now Caitlin stared at their new bed, thinking about what Iris said earlier that day.

“What?” Cisco joked, with his toothbrush in his mouth in the en suite bathroom. He had already showered and finally shaved off his Moving Week Stress Scruff. Caitlin tried her best not to be too disappointed. “Monsters under there? Already?” He spat out his toothpaste and rinsed his mouth before coming up beside her.

“It’s a big bed,” Caitlin said.

“Very big,” Cisco agreed huskily. “Like you wanted.”

“Uh huh.”

He trailed his hand along her neck, travelling down her shoulder, flicking her hair over to the side. “You, uh, got any plans with it?”

“Uh huh,” Caitlin said again, breathily.

Cisco smiled into her hair then kissed her pulse point, slipping down the strap of her weightless silky nightgown. “Mmm. Like what?”

“Falling asleep next to you, and waking up next to you in it everyday?”

“Great plan,” he agreed.

Caitlin turned to him with a slow spreading sly smile, and put her hands on his chest. She changed the tone of her voice to match her come-hither look. “But right now…how about breaking it in?”

Cisco pushed her garment down with his hands on her hips until it fell to the floor at her feet.

#the flash #Caitlin Snow #flash fic #Cisco Ramon #killervibe #fluff #tkv fic

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tybalt-tisk · 7 years

Text

Only With You Chapter 4

Summary: Shiro and Allura break out of the daycare. Rating: G Pairing: Shallura Also on: ao3 Notes: Canon Allura is bossy as shit. Baby Allura is 10x worse.

Shiro looked up towards the clock with his brows drawn together in confusion. It was analog clock so he couldn’t exactly read it, but the tiny sticks were in different places than what he remembered when he looked up at them not too long ago. It also didn’t help that, at his age, he had no perception of time. How much time had passed? An hour? Four hours? 78 minutes? He had absolutely no idea.

Not that he was complaining. The time which dragged on wasn’t such a nuisance because he actually enjoyed playing with Allura. That was because she wasn’t embarrassed to be seen with him and made him realize that none of the other kids were bothered by his white forelock. But even with the surprising acceptance of his peers, he still didn’t prefer to be the center of attention. Everything was still new to him - his newfound confidence, new country, a new friend - he was still testing the waters and his place in it. Sometimes the other kids would wander into their play area wanting Shiro’s attention and he would cautiously give it to them. Kids are naturally drawn to new things and Shiro was the newest addition to the daycare, so unsurprisingly they flocked to him like moths towards a flame. However, they tended to overwhelm him with their endless questions about his hair and origin and they constantly probed him about his life. When their enthusiasm started to draw in too much attention, he would become visibly uncomfortable and began to sink into himself. When that happened, he unconsciously reached towards his head only to meet his hair. He was left wishing he had his cap back on for a safety net. Allura immediately picked up on this and a cold look from her towards the poor kids would silently send them on their way. They had moved on from building a space robot to constructing a castle. They had a solid game plan; hoard as many pieces as possible. Well, it seemed like a solid game plan at the time until their greed almost caused a mini-revolution by a mob of angry toddlers demanding their fair share of building blocks. Amy quickly dismantled the toddler uprising by suggesting a reasonable compromise that split up the blocks evenly amongst the children. The compromise immediately resulted in Allura wanting to abandon construction because she said there weren’t nearly enough building blocks to do it right. “Go big or go home,” she had told him sternly with her arms folded stubbornly before she dragged him somewhere else. Now they were in a rather secluded part of the daycare, away from probing questions and the proletariats, coloring in artbooks, courtesy of another one of Allura’s personal stashes. Shiro decided on an animal-themed book while Allura was still looking for the perfect flower to fill in. She laid on her stomach while she lazily flipped through the pages, her head resting on her open palm. She looked up just in time to see Shiro check the clock. Again. “Why do you keep looking at the clock?” she asked in a bored tone. “It’s not like you can read it. Papa changed it from the glowy numbers to the sticks a week ago.” She paused on a page, made a face, then continued to flip through them. “I can so read it!” he defended with puffed cheeks. His outburst made him go slightly over the lines of his lion picture. “Oh, yeah?” she challenged with a smirk on her face. “Then what does it say?” Oh, she was so ready to prove him wrong. Too ready. “…1:23,” he said slowly with shifty eyes, avoiding her gaze. He honestly just counted from one to three and made it sound like a time. Allura wouldn’t know if he was lying because it’s not like she could read the clock. She couldn’t tell time, either. He could get away with this. Allura looked at him then looked at the clock with squinted eyes then back at him once more, her blue eyes studying him carefully searching for the lie he set out. She set aside her coloring book and sat up, looking around the daycare. She didn’t believe Shiro. Not one bit, but she didn’t have the knowledge to call him out on it, but she knew someone who could. “Amy, what time is it?!” she yelled across the room when she spotted their caretaker. “Allura, you know I’m not allowed to tell you that,” Amy answered from across the room. She was busy cleaning up spilled juice from the floor. Her back was facing them, so her reply sounded muffled and strained. Allura rolled her eyes and let out a loud, exaggerated sigh out of spite. While she fell with her back on the ground she threw her arms above her head and entwined them in her silver hair. She began to speak in a nagging, mocking voice, “Allura, you can’t know the time. Allura, you can’t take all the blocks of your super awesome castle. Allura, no, you can’t keep a bee farm.” Her shoulders shook with each syllable that left her mouth. “I can hear you, Allura,” Amy warned in a light voice. “I trained those bees! They were ready for the circus, Amy!” Allura pouted and rolled over onto her stomach. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter.” It did matter. She could never do anything fun. “Why do you keep looking at the clock?” she asked Shiro again, only this time more curious. Her sudden anger of her bee farm was a distant memory. Shiro raised an eyebrow. There was so much he wanted to ask her but her attention was already focused solely on him. He was starting to get used to the intensity of her stare, but he couldn’t say it didn’t leave him feeling funny. He let out a sigh and continued to color in his lion before answering her. “My mama said that she would be back really soon, but it’s been forever since she left me here,” he confessed. Shiro knew that this interview was important, but how important was it that she abandoned her child with complete strangers for 5 hours? “She said that she was having an interview with her new boss today and if he likes her, we can stay here.” Allura was suddenly off of the floor and in his face. She snatched the black crayon from his hands and threw it across the room. Shiro’s mouth fell open in shock then his face took on a look of anger, “Why did you do that?!” “I had to.” “No, you di-” “Yes I did,” she interrupted. She really didn’t have to throw his crayon across the room, but it felt right and she didn’t know how to express herself without harming others. She was pretty sure that crayon was gone forever because it rolled under the cubbies where no fingers could reach. Oh well. “I can never finish this picture, now!” He pushed his hands towards his incomplete black lion. Why did she always ruin his creative plans? He couldn’t build a plane because she wanted to build a robot. They couldn’t build a castle, because it had to absolutely have every single block in the entire daycare, and now he couldn’t even finish coloring in his awesome black lion. Allura rolled her eyes at him. “There are plenty of other black crayons, Shiro,” she assured. “See? Look.” She picked up another crayon from the box and offered it to him. “That’s brown!” he whined as he looked over in the box searching for a replacement. “You threw the only black crayon way over there and I don’t even know where it went.” “It went under the cubbies,” she informed blankly. “You can’t reach it and no one else can either. It’s gone forever, trust me. But listen!” She tossed aside his irritation the same way she tossed aside his crayon, ignoring his dismay as her voice was getting more and more excited. “Your mama is talking to my Uncle Zarkie. I heard them talking about the inter-interview earlier,” she stumbled over the word. It wasn’t foreign to her but it was the first time it had left her mouth. “Okay…” he said slowly, unsure where she was going with this. He was still extremely bitter about his lost crayon. “Shiro.” He lost count of how many times her hands found his face, but here he was again. Face to hand contact. “Why should we wait for her, when we can go to her?” The look in her eyes scared Shiro. He didn’t know why, but he knew every instinct in him told him to put distance between them. “How?” His eyes were narrowed as he looked at her up and down, still at a loss. She looked around carefully, her blue eyes taking in as much detail about their surroundings as possible. When she was finished, she turned her gaze back to Shiro, her voice low. “Do you trust me?” “No, not even a little,” he answered at a lightning speed. “How can I trust you when you threw the only black cray-” “Shiro, forget the crayon!” she hissed while shaking his face. “This is important. We can go find your mama. I know where they are!” His eyes lit up with delight. “You do!?” he said. His face then took on a look of confusion. “But…how are we gonna get to her? We’re stuck in here.” “We’re not stuck, Shiro,” she said slyly. “I can get us out of here.” The look of mischief once again found its way to her face and Shiro once again found himself afraid of her and the trouble he was sure to get in. Shiro looked at her for a minute with questioning eyes before realization hit him like a bus. He stepped back away from her, shaking his head rapidly. “We just can’t leave!” he shouted. Allura hurried and put a hand over his mouth before he caught Amy’s attention. “Shh!” she hushed him angrily. She looked over her shoulder to see if Shiro’s outburst had drawn attention and luckily for her, it hadn’t. She was getting out of here, with or without Shiro. She was lying to herself because she knew Shiro was definitely coming with her. Shiro moved her hand from his mouth before he continued in a hushed tone, “Allura, we’ll get into trouble.” “Only if we get caught.” Shiro frowned. “C'mon Shiro! I do this all the time, you just gotta trust me!” Shiro folded his arms over his chest, frown cemented in place. He duplicated the pose he’d seen his dad do dozens of times when he disapproved of Shiro’s actions. It was the ultimate dad pose. Turns out, Allura was the absolute worst person to hit with the “Dad Pose”. She was completely unphased by it. Instead of backing down, she puffed her bottom lip out in a frown and somehow made her blue eyes wider. She brought her hands together in front her in a silent plea as her voice took on an innocent tone. “Shiro, pleeeease? I’m trying to help you get to your mama and I’m tired of being in here. Let’s go on an adventure.” “We’ll get lost…” he tried to reason with her. He was never one to break the rules and he didn’t want to get into trouble his first day at the daycare. However, he knew that Allura was determined to drag him down with her. “We won’t get lost,” she promised. “I know every part of my castle.” Shiro thought it over. Allura seemed extremely confident in her jailbreaking skills to the point where she was almost cocky about it and he did miss his mama. She said it would be a short day, but he was starting to get worried about her. She was gone for what? 9 hours, now? What if something bad had happened to her? What if she had tripped down the stairs? What if her new boss was being mean to her? …What if she didn’t get the job? What would happen, then? Then his family couldn’t stay here and his parents would have to split up again and he’d have to move houses. He and Allura could no longer be friends if he left. He pushed these thoughts from his head and sucked in a huge breath. “Let’s do it.” His voice full of determination. Allura couldn’t contain her excited squeal at Shiro’s approval and she threw her arms around him in a brief hug. The way her eyes lit up made Shiro’s heart sing. If he could make her look that happy for the rest of his life, he would do whatever it took. If that includes breaking out of daycare, then so be it. Allura straightened her posture, eyes lit with determination as she scanned the area once again. She was looking for a certain someone. Suddenly, Allura grabbed Shiro by the hand and led him to the play area towards a red-headed boy playing with building blocks. Allura suppressed her sudden anger about seeing her blocks being used for a something other than a massive castle. Her castle was going to be legendary, but now it was only a distant memory. “Hi, Reggie.” She forced a smile and gave a small wave. Shiro followed suit, waving awkwardly behind her. The boy looked up at the pair with brown, unimpressed eyes. He looked slightly annoyed. Probably thinking back to the Great Building Block Scandal Allura had put everyone throughout of sheer greed. “What do you want? My blocks? Amy said that no one was to give you any more.” he said as he pushed his portion of blocks behind him, hiding them from her. “I don’t want your blocks, Reggie, "she assured him. "But, I do need to get out of here.” “Again?” Shiro raised an eyebrow. “Again?” he whispered to her. His comment earned him a glare from Allura. “Yes, again. Are you gonna help me or not?” she demanded. Shiro could tell that she really needed to work on her patience. Almost everything she wanted was something that she wanted immediately with no pushback. “Yeah…I’ll help you, but I want something back,” Reggie bargained. He was looking towards the direction of Allura’s secret stash of goodies. Allura’s eyes narrowed. She knew that no one knew exactly where her stash was because she moved locations every week to not draw in suspicion, but Reggie’s gaze was dangerously close. She knew she had to relocate soon. “Name it,” Allura answered. She was more than willing to give up her personal luxuries for freedom. It was something that the entire daycare knew about. Allura was notorious for breaking out of daycare on a weekly basis, but as clever as she was, she could never do it alone. A colorful ball here, a packet of cheese crackers there. They wanted sweets? Then let them eat cake. She had many things to bargain in exchange for the help of the other kids. “Don’t name the crayons because Allura is just going to take them from you and throw them under th-OW!” Shiro’s rant was interrupted by an elbow to the gut. He glared at the back of her head and before he could retaliate, Reggie started again. “I want your animal coloring book,” he said. “The one Shiro was using before you came over here.” Shiro opened his mouth in protest. Did no one want him to be happy? “Fine,” she agreed, then whispered to Shiro after feeling his disappointment, “I have a better one hidden by the glue sticks.” She turned her attention back towards Reggie. “Okay, we’re gonna do Plan C.” “What’s Plan C?” Reggie asked with a raised eyebrow. “Reggie! You and me only have one plan,” she growled while raising her index finger. “Then why would you name it ‘Plan C’ if there’s no Plan A or B?” Reggie asked back casually. “Reggie, I’ll throw that artbook under those cubbies so fast…” she threatened through clenched teeth. “Okay, Okay!” he backed down. He scanned the daycare with the same seriousness Allura possessed earlier before looking back at them. “Get ready,” he told them. Allura dragged Shiro to an area that was slightly hidden from Amy’s view, her eyes peeking around the corner to watch everything unfold. Reggie stood up and made his way towards the caretaker, trying to lead her away from the door. “Amy! Amy! Look how fast I can run! See look!” The red-headed boy then proceeded to run as fast as he could up and down the play area. Before Amy could tell him to stop, or at least slow down, Plan C moved on to phase two. With a strategic twist of his foot, Reggie came crashing down onto the carpet, face first. He immediately let out a high pitched wail that only a toddler could pull off. His eyes filled with tears as he made his face alarmingly red. His tiny fist slammed on the floor in a repeated banging motion, selling his charades. And the Academy Award goes to… Amy rushed to the seemingly injured child to see if he had truly hurt himself, leaving the pathway to the door open. With the coast clear, Allura ran to the entrance with Shiro right on her heels. She looked back to see if Amy was still distracted. She met Reggie’s crocodile tear-filled eyes once more before she aggressively pushed Shiro down to his hands and knees, much to his silent protest, so she could climb on top of him to reach the door handle. “Be the lookout,” she told him strictly. No surprise to her, the door was locked. It was a different lock from last time she had done this earlier last week, but she was sure she could get through it. She reached to the far right of her to the check-in desk to grab a long flower shaped pen and used that to reach and slide the piece of metal out of place. The sound of the lock sliding out of place was music to her ears. She quickly got off Shiro who was taking his role as guarding footstool way too seriously. She helped him up and hurriedly pulled him out of the daycare before she carefully closed the door as quietly as possible. She could hear Reggie scream louder to drown out any noise they may have caused. He was doing a great job. She might just throw in two artbooks; he deserved it. They were now on the outside of the daycare looking up towards the artificial clouds. Allura turned to Shiro with a smirk on her face and nudged him playfully. “See? That wasn’t so bad.” She started to walk down the hall knowing that he would follow her. “I guess not.” He stretched his sore back before he followed Allura. “Where do we go now, Princess?” She cocked her head at the use of this nickname towards her. “Princess?” “Yeah, because that’s what you are,” he answered honestly behind her. He was sure that whatever journey he was about to embark on, it was bound to get them in trouble. He honestly didn’t care because as long as he was with the princess, he could deal with anything. Mainly because he knew that she could probably scheme her way out of any trouble might get into. “I need your back again to reach the elevator buttons,” she told him when they reached the sliding metal doors. “What do you use when you don’t have my back to reach things?” he asked. He didn’t want this to be a recurring thing. Allura wasn’t gentle in the slightest. “I use a broom.” “Then why didn’t you bring a broom this time?” “Because I have you,” she said as if it were common sense. “Now get down so I can reach.” Shiro got back into position as her personal step stool so Allura could call the elevator. It came quickly much to her delight and they made their way into the car. She climbed on his back one more time to press the floor they needed. “What happens when we get there?” Shiro asked as they felt themselves being lifted up several floors. He was not a huge fan of surprises. He liked to know things in advance and wanted to know exactly what was going to happen, when it is was going to happen, and how it was going to happen. He liked to have a solid itinerary before any major event. It was a characteristic he picked up from both of his parents. He had to admit that he was nervous about what was going to happen when, no if …- actually he was right the first time, so when they got caught. He was absolutely sure that he wouldn’t leave this place without a firm lecture from his mama. She was gonna tell his Dad later on when they got home and his dad was going to do the “Dad Pose” and Shiro didn’t think he could handle that right now. So much had happened today in such little time. It had only been…15 hours since this morning, right? “We gotta be sneaky,” she told him. “My Uncle Zarkie has a lot of people who work for him. We have to avoid them because if they catch us, they’ll send us back to the daycare and then we can’t find your mama.” The car came to a stop and they both peeked their heads out in opposite directions to check their surroundings before Allura quietly led them through the lobby. This floor was completely different from the lobby Shiro walked through earlier. Whereas the lobby downstairs had vibrant golds and reds, this area had darker tones. Deep shades of purples and greys were the main color scheme here. The area wasn’t as busy as Shiro thought it would be. He thought it would be littered with adults who were eager to catch them sneaking around, but he was only met with a couple of couches, plants, and a single desk with a receptionist sitting behind it and taking a phone call. The entrance to the Galra Branch was just behind her. Allura knew that the door was locked and the only person that could open it was the woman behind the desk. There was a button that unlocked the door that was incorporated into the woman’s desk. Allura was too short, even with Shiro, to reach it. There was no possible way to sneak around the woman to reach the button or to even fashion up something long enough to reach the button that released the lock. She would have to face the woman head-on. Not that it bothered her. “Allura, what are you doing?” Shiro hissed when Allura came from behind her hiding spot behind a potted plant. She held her hand out and Shiro reluctantly took it and allowed Allura to lead him to the front desk. The women didn’t seem to be phased by her presence but took on a look a surprise when noticed that this time, Allura wasn’t alone. She put whoever she was talking to on hold before she addressed the children. “Good afternoon, Allura,” she said her a warm smile. “Who’s your friend?” She folded her hands together as she looked over the desk at the children. Allura put on the same forced smile she gave to Reggie just minutes ago. “Hi, Mia,” she responded. “This is Shiro. He’s new here and we need to find his mama. She’s with Uncle Zarkie, so can you please let us in?” Mia raised a brow. “Why does he need his mother?” she asked leaning forward more to study the boy over her desk. “Are you alright?” Shiro let his eyes fall from the receptionist, hoping his white bangs could cover his face enough to hide him. He was not a good liar. If he spoke, he knew he was going to immediately ruin things for the both of them. Luckily for him, Allura chose that exact moment to physically step in, shielding him from Mia’s dissecting eyes. “No, he’s not okay! He’s feeling a little sick and only his mama, who is in there, can help him!” She continued to look at Shiro with a raised brow. “He doesn’t look sick.” Her tone was flat. A quick nudge from Allura sent Shiro into a fake coughing fit. It wasn’t perfect, but it was sellable. However, if this friendship was going to work, Shiro needed to seriously work on his acting skills. Did he even see Reggie? Now that was acting. “See?” Allura pointed towards Shiro, who was hacking away, completely over exaggerating the situation. “He needs medical attention…from his mama.” Mia rolled her eyes at their rendition of the black plague. “Okay, Allura. I think it’ll just call Amy and have someone escort you two back to the daycare,” she said while flipping through a phone book searching for the right number. She had no idea why she didn’t have the number on speed dial considering she had sent Allura back to the daycare on numerous occasions this month alone. Shiro stopped mid-cough, eyes wide with fear. This was it. This is the moment they would get into trouble and he’d get the longest lecture of his short life. Allura stepped forward. “But Mia, if you call Amy, then that means that you’d have to hang up on your boyfriend,” Allura said in a voice that was way too innocent to be considered as such. Mia’s hands froze over the pages and stared at Allura with wide eyes. Allura blinked back owlishly with a grin on her face, tilting her head to the side in a silent challenge. Allura didn’t know it yet, but what she was doing was definitely considered blackmail. They stared at each other for what felt like forever. Shiro was nervously looking at both of them wondering who was going to cave in first. From the time he’d spent with Allura, he knew it wasn’t going to be her. He knew that if Allura was going to go down, she would sure put up a fight. Mia’s eyes narrowed at the girl before her fingers went to the button that unlocked the doors. “Go. If they ask, you came in through the vents again.” Allura broke into a huge smile. “Yeah, sure Mia! Thanks!” She pulled Shiro along with her before she entered the door. Mia waited until the two disappeared behind the double doors before she turned her attention back to the phone. She almost ran her hands through her hair, messing up her perfect bun. “…She did it again, Gavin…yes again…oh, you have not met Allura Altea, you have no idea…” Allura and Shiro entered the Galra Branch. In this area, the purple color scheme continued, except it was little darker than it was on the outside. It reminded Shiro of a fortress. It was way busier in here than it was in any other location Shiro had seen so far. There were individual cubicles that separated each employee to help them focus on their work. It was eerily quiet despite the fact that the room was completely crowded. A couple of employees were walking around, however, none of them had noticed Allura or Shiro. The two hid inside of an empty cubicle to go over their game plan before moving forward. “Okay, so my Uncle Zarkie’s office is that big one.” Allura pointed the office that was separated with walls from the rest of the area. It had a large door that Shiro was positive that Allura needed to ruin his body for. It also had large windows that were covered with dark shutter blinds so he couldn’t see inside. Shiro expected to see guards patrolling the area, but there were just employees looking for a water break. He memorized their pattern before he moved forward, signaling Allura to follow him. He took the lead on this mission. He was sure Allura’s trained eyes picked up whatever he had missed. They stayed low to ground to keep out of sight. They didn’t exactly blend in - not with Allura’s snow white hair and his bright orange shirt, but they did their best to time their movements perfectly to not draw in attention from the employees. Shiro was about to take a step forward before he was harshly pulled back inside a cubicle. Allura placed a hand on his mouth before he said anything to give away their position. Not even a second later, an employee walked by with a mug in his hand. Allura removed her hand and Shiro let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. She peeked her head out before she cleared them and let him take the lead again. As they got closer to Zarkon’s office, Shiro took his steps more cautiously. There were more employees here. Each step he made was meticulously planned, careful not to alert anybody. However, as soon as they turned a corner into a cubicle for a hiding break to plan their next few steps, a man was in their path. All three froze in their spots and no one made a sound. Shiro stared at the man with wide eyes afraid that they had finally been caught. Well, they had a good run. Back to the daycare they would go. The man looked at Shiro then to Allura with a questioning brow. He opened his mouth to address them before Allura narrowed her eyes, placed her index finger over her lips and shook her head slowly. The man sighed and let the single paper in his hands drop to the floor. “Oh no,” the man said dryly, almost like a robot. “My paper fell. Let me turn around to retrieve it.” He turned his back to them to pick up the single sheet from the floor. “Gee, I hope no one sneaks past me because if they did, now would be the perfect opportunity to do so.” Allura took the diversion as the perfect chance to push Shiro into the next cubicle to secure their location. The man quietly laughed to himself as he picked up his report before he returned to his workstation. He unlocked his computer and quickly sent out a mass email. ~.~w~.~ From: Thace Waterson To: Fellow Minions Subject: Code White Allura is in the building. Watch your mouth and pretend you don’t see her. PS: Whoever stole my lunch, I am coming for you. ~.~w~.~ “That was close,” Allura whispered once they were under the desk in the cubicle opposite of Zarkon’s office. Shiro was busy trying to catch his breath while Allura scoped the area. He had so much adrenaline running through his veins right now. He had no idea how Allura seemingly controlled that man. Was she magic? That would also explain her white hair. She was a magical princess. “We’re almost there. We just gotta open that door.” Her words snapped him out of his thoughts and he refocused himself. He looked up at the large door. If he thought it was big before, it looked huge now. From his angle, it looked like it went on forever. “C'mon, Shiro! Let’s go!” Allura yelled at him once the coast was clear. He was immediately on his hands and knees before the entrance to give Allura the height she needed to open the door. “Hurry!” Shiro hissed when he noticed movement around them. He didn’t want to get caught when he was so close to his goal. “I’m trying!” she growled back. Allura was stretching out as much as she could, but her fingers couldn’t quite grasp the handle with enough pressure to pull it. She stood on the very tips of her toes and the action had Shiro clenching his teeth as it added unwanted pressure on his back. ~.~w~.~ From: Michael Ulaz To: ALL Subject: Holy Shit This is the cutest fucking thing I have ever seen. PS: Thace, I took your lunch. Fight me. ~.~w~.~ Shiro tried to hunch his back to give her more height to work with. He thought it helped when he heard the hiss of the door opening. Joy was replaced with worry when he felt Allura lose her balance at the loss of the one thing holding her up. She fell forward onto the ground with her hands breaking her fall. Before he could ask if she was alright, a huge man stood before them. Shiro looked up to see the scariest man he had ever seen. He was so big and intimidating and his face looked like it had a permanent frown etched into it. He looked on in fear as the man picked up Allura and brought her to his face. “No!” he yelled with reached out hands trying to get her back. The man looked down at Shiro with amber eyes. He raised his brow before turning attention back towards the captured princess he held at arm’s length. “Allura,” he said slowly. “Please don’t tell me this is Aiko Shirogane’s son, Takashi.” “That is exactly who he is and he likes being called, ‘Shiro’,” she replied without hesitation or fear. Zarkon rolled his eyes before readjusting Allura in his arms, dangling her from under his arm. Before he opened his mouth to speak, Shiro spoke up with a brave voice. “Let her go! Where’s my mama!?” he demanded before grabbing a hold of his leg and holding on tight. Extra tight. He had to make sure Zarkon felt his raw strength. Zarkon looked on with a blank face as he ignored his employees’ conjoined sounds of, “Aaaww,” and muffled laughter at their display. He heard the familiar sound of a camera clicking followed by a flash and rolled his eyes with annoyance. Zarkon lightly shook Shiro off his leg then stooped down to Shiro’s height when the boy finally let go. “She’s probably looking for you,” Zarkon answered before up-righting and placing Allura down beside Shiro. His face briefly took on a look of surprise at the way Shiro placed his body between them, staring him down. Was he that intimating? God, he hoped he was. Zarkon was unphased by Shiro’s silent threat and looked at Allura with a frown. “Allura, I thought I told you not to be a bad influence on him? I specifically said him. Out of all the kids, you choose the one I told you not to corrupt.” “I’m not a bad influence, Uncle Zarkie!” she defended folding her arms in a pout. Shiro’s eyes widened. This was her Uncle Zarkie? He didn’t think he would be so…scary. “I was showing him around the castle,” Allura explained. Oh, she was such a good liar. Everything left her mouth so easily with confidence. Shiro didn’t know if he should praise her for her skills, or be terrified of them. Zarkon sighed before he stood upright. “Let’s go back to the daycare, then.” “But I need to find my mama, first!” Shiro said desperately. They didn’t come all this way just to go back to the daycare. “She’s probably at the daycare right now looking for you.” Oh. Well, maybe they did come all this way just to go back to the daycare. Zarkon picked up his goddaughter and placed her on his hip and the other reached out towards Shiro who reluctantly grabbed his large hand. He made his way back towards the exit before turning back to face his employees. “Why did no one tell me Allura was here?” His eyes scanned the area wanting an answer. “I sent out an email.” Came the small reply from the back of the building. “Hmm.” He continued his journey back to the lobby. They passed the receptionist before they stood in front of the elevators. “Hello, Mia, who I am seeing for the first time today.” Allura was only a good liar when she felt like being a good liar, apparently. The elevator car came to them they all stepped in. “Shiro, can you press the 4th floor for me?” Zarkon requested. “I can do it!” Allura suggested before almost throwing herself out of Zarkon’s grip, reaching to press the button. She didn’t get far as Zarkon tightened his grip on her and he took a step back putting distance between Allura and her current obsession with ruining his life. He wanted to keep Allura as far as away from the buttons as possible. He didn’t want a repeat of what happened this morning. Shiro stepped forward to do as he was asked. He struggled a bit, but he could reach it. Before, they needed to use teamwork because Allura had to press the 11th floor which was towards the top of the panel. Now it the 4th floor was more in reach so the child could press it by himself. “Are you still mad at me?” Allura asked Zarkon. She was referring to the elevator incident that happened earlier that day. Zarkon turned his hard gaze to her but didn’t answer her. “Oh, C'mon! It could not have been that bad.” “It took five minutes to go up seven floors,” he informed her. “Is that a long time?” she asked half interested while toying with his tie. She looked down at Shiro who was staring at the door, anxiously tapping his index finger on his thigh. She started to wiggle her body, pushing against his chest singling that she wanted to be put down. He set her down carefully and watched as she stood beside Shiro cupping their hands together. “We’re gonna get your mama back!” When he didn’t answer back, she stepped in front of him, lowering her head to make him meet her eyes. “Are you okay, Shiro?” “What if she’s mad at me?” he confessed quietly. He didn’t want to disappoint his mama, but leaving to find her was something he had to do. He had to make sure she was safe and he knew that only he could protect her. Well, him and his dad. But his dad wasn’t here, so he felt the responsibility fell on him like it always did. For most of his life, he had always just been him and his mom and he always did her best to make her proud. But now? He knew she wasn’t happy with him. The thought of his mom scolding him broke his heart. The adventure was fun and thrilling, but now all he felt was guilt. Allura felt somewhat responsible for Shiro’s feelings. “Don’t worry, Shiro,” she reassured him before giving him a hug, which he timidly returned. Zarkon felt a small smile creep to his face at watching the exchange between the two children. The elevator came to a stop and the trio stepped out. Zarkon led them towards the daycare quickly hoping to calm things down just in case his new hire was tearing into Amy. Just as he predicted, Aiko was questioning Amy with such intensity. Amy was doing her best to explain the situation. “I’m sure he’s with Allura. I know this sounds weird, but trust me, they’ll show up eventually.” Aiko raised her voice, “Eventually?! What do you mean? My son is missing!” She slammed her hand on the check-in desk. Zarkon cleared his voice behind them to signal his entrance. “Hello again, Mrs. Shirogane. I have your son.” Aiko whipped her head back towards her boss, eyes seething before they were replaced with relief when she saw her son. “Takashi!” She dropped her purse right before her arms were filled with the warmth of her child. “Mama!” Shiro cried into his mother’s shoulder, burying his face into her neck. Allura looked at Mrs. Shirogane embrace her son and something dark briefly flashed in her eyes. She looked away, choosing to focus her attention on something, anything but them. Zarkon kept a watchful eye on her. Aiko straightened Shiro to look at her. “Don’t ever do that to me again! Do you understand me?” Shiro winced at her tone. “What were you thinking, Taka-chan?” The use of her nickname eased Shiro’s guilt. “I wanted to find you!” Shiro explained. “You were gone for like 19 hours! I got scared!” “Takashi, honey. I was only gone for an hour and twenty minutes…” she told him. “Mama, I can’t tell time!” he shouted. “I don’t know that!” “So you did lie!” Allura accused. She knew he couldn’t tell time! For the first time, Aiko saw Allura. She was hiding behind one of Zarkon’s legs now, peeking out between them. Shiro left his mother’s embrace to go to Allura. He grabbed her hand and brought her to stand before his mother. “Mama, this is Allura. She helped me find you,” he introduced his new friend. He hoped his mama liked her. Allura stepped forward. “Hello, it’s nice to meet you,” she spoke in Japanese before she gave Aiko a respectful bow. Aiko raised a brow in surprise at the polite introduction. She switched to English before continuing. “I’m sorry I took Shiro out of the daycare. Please don’t be mad at him anymore. It was my fault!” she told Aiko, defending her friend. Aiko looked at the two children who were looking back at her with puppy eyes. Shiro never did puppy eyes before, so he must have learned it from this child. She let out a breath. “I’m not mad at you, Takashi. You just scared me. I thought something bad had happened to you.” “I know, Mama. I’m sorry,” he apologized again. Aiko smiled before hugging him again. She then realized something. “Taka-chan, where is your cap?” After she calmed down, she noticed that she could fully see his birthmark. She read his body language and he didn’t seem ashamed of it anymore like he was this morning. Shiro’s gave her a big smile. The biggest smile she has seen from him since they moved from Japan. The sight warmed her heart and all of the anger she felt before completely melted away. “Allura said she liked my hair and told all the other kids that I looked cool!” he told her excitedly. “Mama, I have so many new friends now, but I like Allura the most!” Aiko looked up at the snow-haired child with a smile. “Thank you, Allura for taking care of my son.” Allura smiled back at her and gave a small bow. Aiko then turned her attention towards Zarkon who watched the scenario patiently. “Is Allura yours, Mr. Galra?” He let out a laugh. “Heavens no. She is my goddaughter. It is with my deepest apologies that she caused all of this.” He cleared his throat. “However, I must warn you: this probably will happen again, Mrs. Shirogane. Allura is known for leaving the daycare quite often. She usually ends up in my office or her father’s. We do have security all around and throughout the building and Allura knows better than to do things…too dangerous. She knows exactly what is strictly off limits and she will never leave the building. She knows this place like the back her hand, so she will never truly get them lost if that helps ease your worries.” Aiko blinked, taking in what her boss just told her. She didn’t exactly like the idea of her toddler roaming this giant building unsupervised with a girl they just met. Out of all kids, he had to make friends with a spy kid. A spy kid who was her new boss’s goddaughter, at that. Aiko grabbed her purse before she stood upright. “That’s fine, I suppose. It’s strange, but I know Allura could be the one to break him out of his shell.” She looked behind her at the children who retreated into the daycare to gather Shiro’s things. “Allura has a tendency to do that,” Zarkon spoke. “That girl can bring anybody out of their shell.” Zarkon was too proud to admit it, but he knew that his life changed the day he met his goddaughter. He smiled more than he ever did after she was born. He would do absolutely anything in his power to make her happy. Luckily for Allura, Zarkon was a very powerful man. “You mentioned that she often goes into her father’s office,” Aiko started. “Is her father an employee of yours?” Zarkon smiled. “No, her father is Alfor Altea - My business partner and the Co-CEO of Voltron Tech.” Aiko’s mouth hung open. Not only did her son befriend a jailbreaker, but he befriended the child who was directly related to two of the most powerful men in the western hemisphere. Zarkon laughed at her expression. “Don’t worry. It won’t be so bad,” he told her. “Coran plans the best playdates.” “Coran?” she asked. 'Please don’t let it be anybody important.’ she thought. “Coran Smyth, our advisor.” Fuck. Another powerful person Allura had a direct correlation to. “Don’t look so frighted. We’re actually decent people outside of work,” he told her. “Now, I must head back to work. It was a pleasure meeting you Mrs. Shirogane. I’m pleased to know that the Galra branch met your expectations.” Zarkon turned to leave before Allura ran up to him, holding her arms up demanding to be lifted. “Can I come with you?” she asked when she was lifted to his eye level. “We can get ice cream.” “If I remember correctly, you didn’t eat your vegetables last night and your father told you no more sweets for the rest of the week.” he paused taking in her fallen expression before smirking. “But I won’t tell him if you don’t, kiddo.” He was rewarded with a squeal of delight and a smothering hug from his sunshine. Allura turned in his arms to wave back to Shiro. “Bye, Shiro! I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” she asked him. Shiro looked up at his mom in question. “Yes, Shiro will be back tomorrow, Allura.” “Yay! I can’t wait to have adventures with you, Shiro! We’ll be friends forever!” Shiro couldn’t help but smile because he wanted nothing more to spend forever with Allura. “Bye Princess!” Shiro waved goodbye to Allura before looking up at his mom. “I like it here, Mama,” he told her as he grabbed her hand as they left to leave. “I know you do, Taka-chan. I like it here, too.” She squeezed his hand affectionately before they left the daycare.

In the elevator, Zarkon trusted Allura enough to let her press the elevator button this time. “So, kiddo, tell me: How did you get past Amy this time?” “Plan C.” “Oh, that’s a good one. That Reggie kid has a natural talent.” Zarkon’s tie kept Allura busy. Her natural tendency to touch things that didn’t belong to her was taking over. He pulled out his cell to text Alfor that he had his daughter and that they were going to be in his office for probably the rest of the day. A second later his phone chimed with Alfor’s specific text tone. “Who is that child on your leg?” Zarkon looked at the picture his best friend sent him. It was when he first foiled the toddler’s plans of breaking into his office. He had Allura in his arms, while Shiro gripped tightly at his leg, face in a frown full of determination trying to protect his friend. The picture was taken by one of his Minions and was probably circulating the office by now. Zarkon smirked before saving the picture and replying.

Allura’s new partner in crime and probably your future son-in-law.

EXCUSE ME?

Zarkon only laughed as stepped out of the elevator.

#shallura #vld #allura #shiro #shallura fluff #good Zarkon #Alfor #baby Shiro #baby allura

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spencerxreiders · 7 years

Text

Never Again (Reid x Reader)

Title: Never Again

Rating: T

Word Count: 1786

Warnings: suicidal thoughts & plans

Summary: When reader decides to finally take her own life, it’s up to Spencer to confront her.

A/N: This can be taken platonically too, I guess? But also not? Idk u have to choose for urself ig &this is an incredibly serious topic, one that although I’m familiar with, I hope I did it justice. If you are feeling this way, please call a hotline, the police, a friend, anyone. Just don’t do it, please. My inbox is always open, no matter what. Thank you for reading, stay strong xoxo

••••• Spencer’s eyes raked over your form hunched over your desk. His brow was furrowed as he studied your monotonous behavior, your usual smile long gone from your lips.

He had noticed it the day it started. Hell, he was sure everyone else had too. They were profilers, and he would’ve been rather ashamed if they hadn’t.

It started off slow.

Your eyes had looked more tired than normal, which Spencer had originally dismissed as lack of sleep. However, the longing gaze became a permanent fixture: one he was none too happy about.

Then, you began zoning out every possible moment. You seemed to throw yourself unhealthily into each and every case, prying your eyes away only long enough to sleep on the way home. There were no more light hearted conversations or water cooler talk. You closed yourself off entirely.

Soon after, you stopped attending all “family” outings, opting for staying in your rather empty apartment. To try and loosen up, you had given away a great number of your possessions to members of the team, each with a heartfelt note attached (he was quite thankful for his Shel Silverstein book collection).

Then radio silence. No real smiles, no conversation unless it pertained to the case, and certainly no “hanging out”.

Truth be told, he missed you. He felt selfish for thinking so, but he craved your presence by his side. Of course he wanted you to get better for yourself, but he wanted it for his sake as well.

Some nights he would wake up in cold sweats after having the nightmare influenced by your state. He knew the possibility of someone with your symptoms having depression, and he knew that that sometimes lead to suicide. The fact that you had a gun at your hip 24/7 did nothing to heal his aching heart.

He also noted how unless you were driving, you never wore a seatbelt (JJ was very clear that she noticed that too). He noticed how often Rossi would scold you for not eating enough and how often he would try and persuade you with his coveted lasagna. You usually took a few bites before pushing it aside, not touching it again until it was time to leave.

As the months wore on, he became more afraid of the likelihood of you committing. Unfortunately, he just couldn’t bring it up. What if he was all wrong? He doubted it, but there was obviously a possibility.

Then one day, he saw it.

It was a paperwork day, nothing too difficult or strange was to occur. You had quite the stack on your desk, and as 7:00 rolled around, you insisted on staying to finish up.

First to leave was JJ. Spencer watched as you hugged her tightly, whispering things he couldn’t understand in her ear. As Jennifer left, a surprised smile on her face, Rossi strolled out of his office.

“Rossi!” you called, jogging to catch him before he reached the elevator. He immediately turned to you, his jacket and briefcase in hand. “What’s up, kiddo?” he asked, rather eager that you were finally talking again.

“I just wanted to thank you.. for the lasagna,” you gushed, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “My pleasure. You should come over for dinner next week! The team misses you being there.” You smiled a little wider. “I’ll try my best, sir,” you nodded before walking back to your desk.

Spencer watched as you gave everyone on the team similar treatment, making sure they had a conversation with you before they left. Spencer felt tears in his eyes as realized why you were doing it, what the reason must be.

After complimenting Hotch’s on-field technique, thanking Morgan for having your back, and nearly squeezing the life out of Penelope, you collapsed into your chair. Spencer was the only one left, then you would be free.

Free to swallow the 200 count bottle of pills tucked away in your bag, along with the miniature bottle of vodka to speed up the process. You couldn’t explain why you felt the need to say goodbye in some form, you had made it far to obvious to the agents. How they hadn’t realized was beyond you, however thankful you were.

Your eyes fell upon the man a short distance across the room as you watched him diligently scan file after file. He had tucked his bottom lip inside his mouth, chewing it to keep quiet.

You smiled nostalgically as you slowly made your way to his desk. “Spence, you should go home home and get some rest,” you suggested, placing your hand on the edge of his desk. “I’m gonna finish this first,” he said quickly, avoiding your dull eyes.

“I’ll help you,” you offered. He shook his head. “I don’t wanna put you out.” Your lips pulled up into a soft smile at his kindness. “Please?” you pressed, allowing your fingertips to dance across his shoulder. He shuddered at the touch as heat rose to his cheeks.

“I-it’s fine, I promise,” he countered while gaining enough courage to take your hand in his. An audible gasp slipped from your mouth as he did so. “Actually, there is something you can do,” he said, raising an eyebrow at you. “Anything. What is it?” He rolled an empty chair over beside his desk and smiled. “Care to sit with me?” You nodded and sat down slowly, avoiding his prodding gazes.

It was quiet between you as he signed and initialed his paperwork. Your eyes followed every loop and curve of his signature as he scrawled it out. His handwriting, slightly messy, could’ve passed him as a medical doctor if you didn’t know better.

About ten minutes later, he finished up and rose from his chair to turn them in. Your legs moved on their own accord, grabbing your long finished papers to turn in as well. His cheeks were vibrantly reddened as your hands brushed together.

You both instinctively pulled back in record time as you walked briskly back to the bullpen. Spencer jogged to his desk before packing up excruciatingly slowly. You sat back down in your chair, praying for him to leave soon. Even though he made it incredibly more bearable, life still beat down on you.

Breathing caused your chest to ache, and your heartbeat was just a loud reminder of what you had yet to attempt. After reading up on those who had failed suicide, you realized you that there was no room for failure.

You wondered if anyone knew, and just didn’t say for some reason. Would you say something if it was your friend? Probably. Maybe they didn’t consider you a friend at all. Maybe you were nothing but a nuisance to them, worthless piece of-

“Y/N, are you coming?” Spencer’s soft voice rang out, startling you back to reality. “W-what?” you stammered, looking up to face him. “I think I’m gonna stay a bit longer. I have some cleaning to do,” you dismissed with a wave of your hand.

“Please?” he continued even though he hated the crack in his voice. “Spencer, its fine. I can get home by myself,” you argued. That was all he could take.

He dropped to his knees in front of your chair, hot tears streaming down his cheeks. “Please don’t leave me,” he begged as he hung his head. Your mouth was agape as he sobbed, his hair dangling in front of his face. “Spencer,” you whispered in a watery tone,“it’s ok. It’s alright.”

He clutched your wrist in his large grip as he desperately tried to cling to you. “You’re going to leave me! If I walk through those doors, I’ll never see you again,” he cried. You sunk down to the floor in front of him. With a featherlight touch, you pulled his head to your chest while your other arm cradled his trembling shoulders. “Shh.. you’ll be ok. You’re gonna be ok,” you tried even as tears of your own fell across your parted lips. Guilt flooded your veins as he begged you still, clinging to the fabric of your shirt so tightly you thought it could rip. “Please don’t leave me,” he repeated, his wrecking sobs quieting slightly.

“Spencer, y-you’ll be ok,” you assured unsteadily. “No I won’t!” his voice was hoarse as he screamed. “You can’t leave me, not like this. Please, Y/N!” your heart broke as he shook in your arms. However, another part of you began to heal.

If he cared this much, maybe you should stick around a little longer? God knows you cared about him: hell, everyone knew you cared about him. “Spencer, will you help me?” you asked him calmly. His head shot up at your even voice.

“Anything, anything at all,” he hiccuped as he clutched both of your hands against his chest. “I’m going to give you a couple of things, and if you take them from me, I’ll try to stay, ok?” you asked, slowly reaching your bag. He nodded eagerly, awaiting the prized possessions.

You placed the alcohol in his palm, then the pills. His breath caught in his throat at the surreality of the situation and his glossy eyes met your still leaking ones. “Oh, Spencer,” you gasped before collapsing into him. He quickly and carefully dropped the objects, occupying both arms by squeezing you to his warm body.

This time it was you who cried the hardest even as his tears still dotted your hair. “Shh.. Y/N, you’re going to be ok, I’m right here. I’m not leaving you anywhere,” he assured as his hands rubbed your shivering arms.

“I want to get help,” you admitted after a few minutes. “We’ll get you some,” he nodded. “Will you stay with me?” He nodded again, “for as long as you’ll have me.” You sat there in the floor of Quantico for at least an hour and a half, snuggled up in his embrace against your desk. You drifted off, destined to see yet another morning much to Spencer’s pleasure.

The wooden desk dug into his spine, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. His long fingertips ghosted your restful face and your lips twitched into a smile at the sudden contact. As your arm moved to rest over his, already draped across your torso, it was he who smiled.

He meant what he said, every single word. It was true that he couldn’t live without you, it was true that he would get you help; but most of all, he wasn’t going to leave you. The thought of losing you caused too much pain. But you were worth it in every way.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #tw suicide #Reid #reid oneshots

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everlarkingjoshifer · 7 years

Text

The Girl In Front of Me.....

So because @everlarkedalways is hosting a Re-thg reading and we’re currently on chapters 1 and 2. I decided to write a small tiny drabble. (which is rare considering all of my writing is hella stupid long) Normally I’m not much to write about little overlooked details but there was just one that I couldn’t ignore that was mentioned by @ghtlovesthg. Here’s your drabble dear, Hope you like it. Now I will like to mention that this is on a whim kind of thing and it hasn’t been beta’d by anyone other than me... So please be kind because I tend to have a chock full of mistakes. Punctuation is not my strength.... Oh and also I found this pic online and decided to make a tiny banner based on what I thought Prim’s clothes looked like. I put in her initials on the ends of the sweater because I thought that would be something that I feel Mrs. Everdeen would do.

Thing that was new/forgotten: I thought Katniss tried to sell Prim’s baby clothes at the Hob, but she’s too afraid to go there, at first. Instead, she brings them to the “public market” in the town square, which is also mentioned in Chapter One. I totally forgot this existed, but it seems like it could be a wonderful setting for some fanfics/drabbles (hint hint hint hint)!

Anyways, Here it is Ya’ll,

Peeta Mellark looked at the girl in front of him, his daughter. Her brown hair split into two braids with bright green ribbons. He was startled by how much she looked like Katniss. Except the eyes, those were his. Her crystalline baby blues stared back at him. The edges of them crinkled in the corners by her toothy smile. She danced around in circles, her little legs clopping loudly against the floorboards. Yes, she wasn’t the stealthy one either but the two little ribbons that danced about her with each little spring of her steps reminded him of another two-braid girl who almost didn’t survive the harsh winter.

xxxxxxx

She’s was back. The girl with the chestnut hair and desperate eyes.She’s clutching a two little sweaters, if they could be called that at all. They’re so threadbare and bedraggled. I notice the way her crazed hungry eyes plead for someone, anyone to listen to her pleas, but it’s useless. She’s rebuffed as though she were, little more than a nuisance. The girl with two unkempt braids, with pieces of hair sticking in odd angles in the sides. Her smudged nose turning red in an effort to keep her tears from falling. She’s hungry and alone. Her father died in a mining explosion that trapped him it’s ruthless grasp. Her mother rendered silent and ghost like. However, the girl with the brown hair, the one with the hungry desperate look. The girl who unknowingly entranced me with her lilting, angelic singing stood brave before the mayor as she was handed a small cold medal hanging on a strip of ribbon. She shook with unshed tears as she hugged her little sister to her letting the small girl’s wails surround her and soak her thin sweater as their mother stood next to them in a trance like state. Katniss, like her namesake stood strong and supportive.

I knew she must’ve been hurting but she refused to show it. I don’t know how she did it. I don’t think I could’ve stood as stoically proud knowing my father had dies. But there she was accepting a sack of extra grain and other pitiful items that would run out sooner rather than later. The light in her eyes extinguished when she simply nodded as the Mayor read off her Fathers name praising him for his undying loyalty to the district. For an unwarranted sacrifice. Days had passed and her mother still remained the same precipitating their inevitable hunger.

The once happy Everdeen family simply wilted and there was no warm light coming from their cabin. Darkness and tears rung loudly from their end, but nothing changed. I could see the little sister’s face become more sunken and the dark circles in her pretty blue eyes were rimmed red from constant crying. Still, no one helped. Us the merchants were not really the charitable bunch even among ourselves and the people from the Seam had next to nothing to offer.

I was becoming increasingly worried that Katniss and her family would die off if no one helped. I was ashamed to admit that some part of me had become selfish. I couldn’t bare to lose the one girl who brought a small sense of peace and joy into my life. Her voice reminded me of kinder days and where would I be without such a voice? What else could I do to help? Mother would never allow me to offer a helping hand, let alone think about helping. My father wouldn’t dare speak up. He was easily cowed by my mother’s erratic wrath and my two older brothers wouldn’t dare think of associating with the Seam moles as my mother referred to them. I think her prejudice was jealously unwarranted but then again, many things were. I’m not old enough to help and I’ve never felt more useless.

She’s walking around clutching her sister’s baby sweaters in one hand and her other hand balled up into a fist. All pride being taken by the harsh wind as people shake their head impatiently in her direction telling her to “leave them alone” or to “get lost”. So cold hearted we had become. So selfish that my people refuse to acknowledge or even realize when someone else was in pain. Her frustration began to mirror towards me and despite all I wanted to do I had to sit there and watch as Katniss Everdeen begged for someone to take her sister’s bedraggled sweater for exchange in food or maybe some coins. I shook my head and went back into the bakery unable to witness anymore desperation and misery. It wasn’t until the morning crowd dispersed that I heard my mother shooing someone away.

“Go away girl. Get out of my garbage cans. There’s nothing for you here and if you come back I’ll be sure to call the peacekeepers on you!” my mother screeched.

I hear a scuffle of feet and I nudged my head slightly to see who it was. Katniss’s wild eyes danced in front of my own and I had finally seen enough. It was unbearable to see her barter her few belongings away, but to see her search our garbage cans was not acceptable.

Before I even knew I’d decided. I brought two hearty loaves towards the oven and let them sit in front of the fire until the outer layer turned black and only just managed to turn my head towards the door when I felt a smack on the back of my head.

“What do you think you’re doing? You idiot! We can’t sell these!” yelled my mother making me cringe from the high decibels that emanated from her mouth. I frowned and she back handed me so hard that my vision reeled about for a few seconds. “Don’t you dare sass me boy or I’ll teach you what I’m really capable of!”

She reaches for the burning loaves and grasps me by the arm, yanking me towards the door. Rain pelts harshly against the ground and the unforgiving wind whips my face making me feel my fresh wound. I knew it would be swelling soon but I didn’t care at the moment. Mother smacks me on the back of the head again and orders me to feed the bread to the pigs before she stomps back into the bakery. I look over at Katniss who is huddled against a tree sweaters forgotten in the mud. She’d given up and I my resolution was reinforced once again as she looks over at me and squints curiously. I throw one loaf of bread and then the other before disappearing back into the bakery.

I pray that she’d picked up my offering or I’d be in a world of trouble if my mother realized what I’d been up to.

The next morning I see Katniss staring at me. She looked like she wanted to say something but she pauses when she sees my black eye. She frowns looking at the ground. Her wordless gratitude hanging in the air. Her eyes transfixes on a single dandelion. I kick myself inwardly for my cowardice. I should’ve approached her but something in me knew that I’d probably embarrass her further if I mention throwing bread at her. Then again, I should’ve walked out there and helped her. I shouldn’t have thrown the bread. I should’ve gone out there and given it to her instead. I sigh as I walk into to class kicking myself every step of the way.

I hardly think I would ever deserve the girl in front of me...

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Two little arms encircle his shoulders and a tiny giggle perforates Peeta’s thoughts. His son looks over to the side of his face and Katniss’s steely silver eyes impishly smile at him. “I supwised you daddy.”

Peeta laughs and nods, “Yes you did. Now what are you gonna do?”

The curly haired blond boy looks at him thoughtfully for a second and starts to wiggle his tiny, chubby fingers, “Tickle time!”

Peeta pretends to be at his son’s mercy crying defeat as Willow his daughter giggles at the absurdity of it all.

“Okay Rye, you’ve won! Please I can’t take any more tickles.” Peeta implored.

“what’s going on here?” asks his wife. Her eyebrow raised as she tries to hide a smile.

“I supwised daddy, and now I’m tickling him! I won!” Rye triumphantly announces.

Katniss congratulates him and walks over to pluck her son from his father’s back and sits him on her hip, “Are we still up for that picnic?”

Peeta smiles and nods as Willow walks over to them with her jacket on and ready, “I’m all set, I want to go!” she looks over at her dad expectantly, “Are the cookies we made yesterday in the basket?”

Peeta nods and his daughter gifts him with a brilliant smile. He is once again, shattered by the resemblance between Willow and Katniss. He still can’t believe how he came to marry the girl he always loved.

Willow pulls on his arm as Katniss walks out with Rye on her hip and the picnic blanket in the other hand. “Daddy, Let’s go!”

Peeta nods and picks up their lunch basket before walking out the door and locking it and walking behind the girl in front of him....

#everlark drabble #rethg #I dk what possessed me to write this but I just had #Hope you all like it!#all mistakes are mine #sorry #lol #everlark #everlark fanfiction

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