#i just remembered like five minutes ago. happy birthday buddy

[jdmara]

[anadiasmount]

is this real? - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: breakup, attempt of a makeup. but you're not here to play around, wanting security, but it doesn't help when jude can't find out what he really wants. is your love really worth the shot?

wc: 2.7 k | masterlist | jude's masterlist

psa 🗣️: hi! i'm back this is kinda angsty and kinda meh :( i still hope you enjoy and like tho! also I will be starting a small jude series in the upcoming weeks, which I'm super excited about! in the mean time here is this :)

“Hi, buddy. Hi! How’s my big baby?” you say in a gentle voice to the German shepherd who couldn't stop licking your face in excitement, his tail wagging and almost crying. It was a month since you had seen Duke, and it was safe to say he missed you as well. He was a birthday gift from Jude about a year ago, since you had asked for one, and Jude wanted a guard dog when he wasn't home. 

You remember the day vividly since it was during the summer, a few weeks before his season ended, and you had the opportunity to travel with Duke around the holidays you took. Duke was a momma's boy, he wouldn’t ever leave your side no matter what. If Jude was here he would acknowledge him but he refused to leave your side. Duke was the biggest and softest sweetheart, he was so friendly and always so happy, so you wondered how he was after you and Jude split. 

Duke came into your embrace and let you hold him for a good five minutes before you got up and made sure he had his breakfast. You practised a few tricks and rewarded him with treats after. He continued to follow you around as you picked up your suitcases and took them upstairs. He tilted his head to the side confused before he whined and touched your leg, “I'm not going anywhere buddy, at least not yet,” you leaned down and kissed his head. He ran up the stairs and watched as you ragged up the three suitcases. 

Duke layed on the carpet as you went into the closet and began to retrieve your jeans and leggings from the drawer, along with your other skirts and shorts you had. Those all barely fit into one suitcase, having to lay on top of it in order to close it. One task was done but you still had to retrieve the other parts of your stuff. You wanted to make sure no trace of you was left behind. Wanting to leave a blank new canvas for Jude’s life. 

After putting that suitcase in your car, you walked back upstairs and started to take your shirts from the hangers. You never realised just how much clothes you had. Any of the shirts or dresses Jude had gifted you, you set them aside in a different pile in a box labelled “do whatever you want” for Jude to decide. You were being petty but you didn't care, you didn't want anything to do with him anymore, all the jewellery and stuff he gave you went into that box, including that damn promise ring…

“Y/n we need to talk…” Jude sighed, he shifted towards you as you sat on the park bench overlooking the small lake. “What's up? Is everything okay?” you ask, your full attention towards him. Jude covered his face, his breathing becoming uneasy as well as his heart. He wanted to avoid it but when you saw his state, the goosebumps appearing, you knew what he was about to do… it was a sign and you felt it.

“I-I-I wanna break up,” he stuttered, avoiding how you stared shocked with wide eyes at him. You let out a small gasp as tears brimmed your eyes, “But why? Have I done something?” you say shaky. You had the urge to reach over and comfort him, wipe his tears away, and reassure him you were here for him, but now you could just stare at him. Stare at his bloodshot eyes, his eyes completely dark and uneasy. 

“You haven't done a single thing, baby, I have to do this… I'm moving away and I just can’t do long distance, knowing that I'm holding you back. I also want to focus on myself and my career, I can’t let this move go to waste, it's a dream and an opportunity…”

Your gaze averted to the white swans in front of you, watching as they cuddled into each other, and swam away. You said nothing, having difficulty processing his words. It seemed like he made up his mind, and you always said you wouldn't hold him back… but now all you wanted to do was fight for your relationship. Fight for him. “Say something…” Jude said, watching intently as your bottom lip trembled. 

You sniffled and wiped your nose and tears away as you stood up. “What’s there to say… you’ve made up your mind. I’ll just go along with it” You smiled and shrugged upset, turning around and beginning to walk away from him. You heard as Jude shuffled around, and jogged towards you. “Wait wait wait, what do you mean? You have to say something, Y/n!”

“No, I don’t. All I can say is I hope it goes well with you Jude, that you have the best season ever in Madrid… And no, you would’ve not held me back… I know what I want, but now it looks like you're not a part of it,” you avoided his pleading eyes. Your gaze returned back to the white swans who now drifted away from each other. “Don't do this Y/n…” Jude begged, grabbing your chin gently, facing you to him where he had tears running down his face.

“Don’t make this harder than it already is, Jude. I’ll miss you but I won’t beg for you to stay, hold you back like you say. I’ll respect your decision…” Jude just stared at the girl who he loves to walk away. Jude cursed at himself, jogging to you because he made a mistake, a regret. But it was too late because you quickly disappeared. 

The first few days were rough, you avoided any light or noise, just staring out at the wall in front of you. But you grew angry at yourself and the world. Jude had left you, and everything inside you felt broken. You couldn't shake away the tears anytime you saw him pop into your head. Jude was a constant reminder he would always be there. 

For Jude it was worse, he showed up to training late, spoke only to his brother and mom who grew concerned, and even lost his spot in the starting eleven for their last game. Jude was devastated and without you there, he couldn't piece his life together. Jude wouldn't sleep, especially now that your sweet scent was gone from his pillow and sheets. If someone had asked Jude if this was where he would have been a year ago he would have laughed at their face.  

Jude had come back from a last meeting with his club, he was exhausted and only wanted to sleep. But he was taken back when he saw the house spotless, and it was strange that Duke didn't greet him at the door. But he smelled that sweet scent again, lingering all over the living room and kitchen, were you here?

Jude tried and tried to contact you, asking how you were or what you were doing, but there wasn't any sign of you. He would just watch your stories when you'd post but it looked like you were always with someone… He was beginning to grow frustrated, why couldn't you respond back to him? 

Jude walked up the stairs, seeing the bedroom door you once shared open. He looked around the room and saw different clothes piled everywhere. “No no, this can’t be happening..” Jude said out loud causing you to get startled. You avoided his gaze and whispered a small ‘shit, fuck’. You weren’t expecting him to come so soon home, or was it that you were here for more than you intended to be? Jude’s eyes directed to you, who was standing there looking effortlessly elegant and beautiful, his Y/n…

“I've set all the clothes and stuff you’ve given me in this box… you can do what you please with them, I don’t want it…” you say in a soft tone, cutting the silence from the room. Jude shook his head, still trying to process everything, “This can't be real… There is no way this is happening right now… This is just a dream right.” Jude paced back and forth, a hand on his forehead as he nervously chuckled.

Why was it so difficult to process what you were doing? Why was the image of you packing causing an ache in his chest? Why did it feel like you were packing away every memory and throwing it away? You were packing your stuff away and Jude knew it would be the last time he saw or heard of you. “Jude… Calm down…” you say, just watching as he sits on the bed in denial. “This day was bound to come… We have to move on, you know?” 

“It’ll be okay Jude-”

“No, it won’t. I can’t move on knowing that I still love you and the fact you're here packing everything away is hurting me, Y/n…” Jude stressed, just wanting to feel your comfort, your hands relaxing his tense body and whispering that you would stay. “Jude you broke up with me. I'm giving you space to figure yourself out but you can’t hold onto hope one day things will change. This is what you wanted, no?” you said, testing the waters. 

Jude went silent, unsure of what to say. He wanted to blurt out to stay, to not leave, that he loves you, but he had trouble doing so. Duke stood and came to your side, going between your legs and sitting, he was protecting you, Duke sensed you were feeling sad and recognized you felt like crying. “No, this wasn't what I wanted… I thought if I did what I did, it would benefit both of us but for me, it isn't… Fuck I can’t even drink my coffee without thinking of you there!”

Jude stood up, his height intimidated you as he towered over you, and you became shy and nervous. “I can’t sleep knowing the pain I caused for both of us or the fact your scent isn't in my sheets anymore… I can’t go and pass by the park we visit because it reminds me of you. I can’t help the fact I lost my best friend and girlfriend at the same time because I thought I was doing the right thing in protecting our hearts… Or it's the fact I refuse to let you go because I love you still.”

“Protect us from what exactly? Jude, I thought we were doing fine! We discussed how our relationship would work once you moved to Madrid. I have a year left of uni, graduating early so I can start my career early because that has always been my plan. You wouldn't hold me back from anything, I knew what I was getting myself into when I started dating you… If you had these doubts we could've talked it out, maybe save ourselves from all this!”

“I was scared you would lose interest and get tired of all the back and forth. Scared you would get unhappy knowing that the long distance would affect us both. I wouldn't know how you felt, and you drifting away, us growing apart, I didn't want that,” Jude insists, his hand connecting with your jaw and running his thumb along your cheek. You leaned into his touch, relishing the feeling, and fluttered your eyes closed, a sense of safety and home. 

“In a relationship, there’s stuff we need to sacrifice to make it work, and I was willing to do that because I love you. I want to see you succeed Jude, after all these years, the hard work, and dedication, you deserve this. Which is why I think it's best if we leave things as it is… We’re so used to and wrapped around each other we-”

“No no no, please-”

“You don't know what you want Jude! You pick and decide and live life as it goes! And I can't put myself through that because look at you now, you first claiming you couldn't do long distance and now saying we could work it out. What if two months in you realise it wasn't what you wanted? Are you becoming unhappy and breaking up once again? I refuse to be put through that, be treated like a test or lab rat just for your self-satisfaction. I also deserve to be happy,” you state, frustrated wiping your tears away and stepping back from him. 

Jude knew you were right, he hated it because it meant that now his biggest nightmare was becoming true. You were done, you were just done, you’d be willing to move on. Jude knew you for who you were, a girl who would listen and observe and not comment, but when you talked you spoke to let the message be clear and heard. So hearing this from you was quite humbling. He didn't know what he wanted, he was confused. 

“You’ll meet new people in Spain, this is just the beginning of something exciting and yet scary. Try it out Jude enjoy it, because this depends on how your future will be, around the people you're surrounded with… You never know, you may just find yourself where you should be… And I will always be here for you like I have, but right now it's better if we just focus on ourselves…” you say frowning, your palms sliding against each other to soothe your nerves. 

Jude just let out a breath and cried, his shoulders shaking and lips trembling which caused you to tear up knowing what you said was hurting him. But in all honestly it was the truth, “Come here,” you said, Jude didn't hold back and wrapped his arms around you, his head hiding in the crook of your neck as he let himself be completely vulnerable, holding you tight so he could relish the moment forever. Duke whined and laid his head on your legs, confused. 

Four months later here you were in England, mostly busy at Uni and an internship you managed to get after getting a referral. Duke and you enjoy walks in the morning and sometimes evening, going to dog parks to clear your head. You hate to say it but the breakup had taken a huge toll on you, you refused to admit it though. It was hard to lose the only person who had been there from day one. 

Jude was thriving in Spain, quickly fitting into the team and contributing to many goals and some assists. Best and youngest player, with many nominees to awards, It looked like he was doing better and happy, but you wouldn't know since your messages became less and less through those four months. You hated feeling a bit angry, jealous, and frustrated because he was doing better than you. 

But that would vanish because, at the end of the day, his happiness was yours as well. Even though you were miles apart, there was always something that brought the two of you together, which was Duke. You relished the good memories with Jude and cried to sleep because it wouldn't happen soon again. But a moment of honesty, you had to move on and not hold onto hope he would come back and chase you.

You learned to live with the fact but it was still hard to process. Maybe in another lifetime, you could have what you did with Jude, but for now, you were okay. It might be hard, but if something is worth fighting for, then it will occur, they just needed and required a huge miracle. You might have lost Jude but it meant you could learn from that and become a stronger person. 

Having been invited to an art gallery and museum, you got ready for the evening. Had the patience to complete a perfect blowout, and do your makeup. You also had the chance to wear your new black dress that fit perfectly for the evening. “How do I look Duke?” his head propped up and barked, which made you giggle. 

You turned to face the mirror for one last look, fixing your necklace, hiding the J initial that was still there, and spraying your favourite perfume. Your doorbell rang, and a few knocks were heard as you approached the door. Unbeknownst to you, Jude was on the other side. You opened the door to reveal him. “Jude!” you gasped, Duke coming to your side and shaking his tail when he saw Jude. Jude’s eyes roamed your body, his mouth slightly agape feeling breathless.

“I was hoping we could talk. Can I come in?”

[spaceprincessem]

a very, very happy birthday to my darling friend @mumucow

enjoy this ooey gooey fluffy buddie ficlet because I probably will not be able to write something like this without any angst again 💜

Eddie hates the cold.

He hates snow and ice and freezing rain and any temperatures that drop below seventy degrees. In Los Angeles it usually isn’t a problem, they barely get rain, let alone the tiny drafts of snowflakes and Eddie is perfectly fine with that. He remembers, years ago when he experienced snow for the first time. It was just a light dusting, a brush of white like powdered sugar coating the ground. From his bedroom window the snow looked beautiful, bright and untouched in the early morning sun. He remembers practically vibrating out of his five year old body with the need to touch. His mother barely managed to bundle him up in a sweater and boots before he tumbled out into the yard and then promptly ran right back inside not, but two minutes later when he realized how awful it was. From then on Eddie decided any time it snowed he would plant himself on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate watching telenovelas with his Abuela where it was safe and warm.

So, Eddie hates the cold, but Buck thrives in it.

It’s not really a surprise, considering he’s from the midwest where days out in the snow were just a part of growing up. And — unfortunately, for Eddie, or maybe fortunately, he’s not really sure yet — Buck has shared that love of snow with Christopher. 

So, that’s how Eddie has found himself planted on the front porch bundled up in at least two hoodies, three blankets, and four pairs of socks watching Christopher and Buck attempt to make a snowman in a quiet cabin up in the mountains. Buck’s cheeks are a sweet, dusty pink that leaves Eddie’s mouth a little dry every time Buck turns a grin in his direction, sunshine bright and all for Eddie. It’s worth it, Eddie thinks, freezing his ass off to hear Christopher laugh when he throws a snowball at Buck, who dramatically collapses to the ground. He knows they’ll make hot chocolate later and curl up on the couch to watch movies and stuff their face with cookies Karen made, little gingerbread firemen with iced 118 hats and heart eyes that made Eddie blush when she handed them over before they left. 

He knows when Christopher is passed out in his room Buck will press him into their mattress, the dying embers from the fire growing dim as they kiss slow and sweet, like they have all the time in the world. Because they do. Because Eddie can finally, finally, have all the things he’s ever wanted. He can lick hot into Buck’s mouth, trail kisses down his jaw, map out the scars on his pale skin, chase the sound Buck makes in the back of his throat, and swallow them until the flame at the base of his spine consumes him.

The shiver that runs down his spine isn’t from the cold.

“Dad,” Christopher calls from the ground where he’s made a wonky snow angel that has him grinning madly, “come help us build a snow house!”

“Absolutely not,” Eddie says, pulling the blankets around him tighter.

Christopher pouts, but easily becomes distracted when Buck lightly nails him with a snowball. There’s snow nestled in his curls that have stubbornly poked out from his hat and his cheeks are beet red, but he shows no sign of wanting to come inside anytime soon. Eddie shakes his head, turning his lazy smile in Buck’s direction. Even from here he can see flakes in Buck’s lashes and it’s enough to have him think about getting up from his cocoon of warmth just so he can brush them away with his finger tips. Buck mouths, love you, and Eddie melts right in his chair as he mouths back, love you too.

He tells Christopher they have about ten more minutes before they have to go inside. As much as Buck loves the snow and thrives off of Christopher’s boundless energy he knows the cold is starting to take its toll. He can see Buck poorly hiding the way he has to limp around the yard as the day wears on. He knows the cold always makes his bad leg ache and being outside for a few hours means he’ll be in quite a bit of pain later. Eddie came prepared. There’s a heating pad ready to go when they settle on the couch, soothing cream for a massage, and pain medicine that won’t make him sleepy or nauseous. The fond and loving smile Buck had given him when Eddie packed all of the bad leg supplies made them leave twenty minutes late. 

Buck manages to get Christopher inside with the promise of extra marshmallows in his hot chocolate. Eddie and Christopher play Go Fish at the kitchen table, milk simmering on the stove as Buck goes to take a hot shower. When he comes back he’s dressed in sweat pants and a LAFD hoodie that Eddie knows says Diaz on the back. Christopher takes the bean bag chair in front of the television, his own plate of cookies perfectly balanced next to him as Buck sets up the movie. They’ve chosen Balto and 8 Below because Christopher has been obsessed with sled-dogs recently. 

Buck lays against Eddie’s chest, immediately dozing twenty minutes into the movie. Eddie gently runs his fingers through the freshly washed curls, letting the warmth in his chest bloom, until he can feel it in the tips of his toes. When the double feature is over he sends Christopher to wash up for dinner before he kisses Buck awake.

“Hi,” Buck blinks, sleep-soft and Eddie’s. 

“Hi,” Eddie mirrors, leaning down to kiss him again, “how’s your leg?”

Buck makes a face and Eddie gently smooths the frown lines in his forehead. 

“Okay,” he whispers against Buck’s curls, “I’ll reheat the pad and get you some more medicine before I start on dinner.”

“Mmmkay,” Buck hums, nearly drifting back off to sleep, “love you.”

Eddie thinks the thrill that races through him will never go away when he hears Buck say those words.

“Love you too, so much.”

He eases off the couch, tucking the blanket back around Buck before he kisses him again. 

Eddie hates the cold, but he loves Christopher and Buck. 

shhh i am a buck loves the snow/cold truther. im from the midwest i have that right 😂

[chrisevansjellybeans]

Happier|Part Three

A/N: Here is part 3!! Sorry it had taken so long, I had gone back and forth on deciding if this would be the last part or not. I decided to make it an even four so there will be a Part Four! Hope you enjoy. It’s another chapter of angst! (What’s new) All mistakes are my own! 

Part One|Part Two

Word Count: 1800

Warnings: swearing, angst 

You sat awkwardly between Scott and Lisa as they continued to have a conversation that you were trying your hardest to pay attention to but you were having no such luck. Your gaze and your mind kept wandering over to your best friend who was currently standing in the corner talking with a buddy. Chris’s eyes darted towards yours and you immediately diverted your eyes anywhere else. 

You had been doing this for the last two hours. Neither of you is willing to make the first move to go over and talk to each other. It had been three weeks since the incident during the girls night. Chris had texted you about twenty minutes after you left, but you didn’t respond. That became a trend for about two weeks before he just stopped texting you all together. Quite frankly you had forgotten about the bitch incident two days after the fact. But you kept telling yourself that putting space between the two of you was what you needed to get over these feelings that you just couldn’t get rid of. 

Because six months of being in a different country wasn’t space enough. 

And you know what they say: distance makes the heart grow fonder. 

But Carissa had insisted that you come to her little birthday gathering that she was having at the house. So now here you were, being completely miserable in a room full of party goers.

You turned your focus back on the other Evans’ in your life and smiled when Lisa made a joke, but still contributed very little to the conversation. 

“I’m going to go get a refill.” You wiggled your half empty cup for emphasis before excusing yourself. 

You let out a sigh of relief when you noticed the kitchen was fairly empty, only a couple that you didn’t recognize talking in the corner. You grabbed the pitcher of margaritas and filled your glass before taking a huge sip and then filling it again.

“Margaritas that good?” You spun around at the unfamiliar voice. Your face grew hot as you came face to chest with a very tall, very handsome man. His dark eyes were raised in question but his lips were settled in a knowing smirk. “Or are they just bad enough to make you forget something you don’t want to remember?” 

“A little bit of both.” You replied, taking another sip. Mystery man laughed and you smiled. He reached past you to grab his own cup to fill up. 

“I’m Marcus.” He said simply, his eyes raking up and down your body. You internally rolled your eyes but decided to play along. He was hot and you were lonely. 

“Y/N.” You held your hand out to his. “Nice to meet you.” 

“Likewise.” He smirked. 

“So how do you know Carissa?” 

“I don’t, funny enough.” He explained. “I’m here with a friend.” 

“Ahh.” You raised your eyebrow asking the silent question. 

“His name is Brady.” Marcus laughed. 

“I see.” You took another sip of your margarita, a smile hiding behind the cup. 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

You were shocked at how much fun you were having talking to Marcus. He was funny and charming and knew all the things to say to make you blush and yet you couldn’t help that your eyes would wander over to where Chris was sitting, Carissa perched on his lap. 

Your attention was snapped back to Marcus when you felt his hand rest on your cheek, his thumb brushing against your lips. 

“Sorry, you have a little…” He trailed off as he wiped his thumb across your parted lips. 

You were sure he was going to kiss you.

And you were sure that you might just kiss him back. 

Marcus leaned forward and you felt your eyes flutter close, anticipating the kiss. But it never came. 

“Hey.” You and Marcus both turned to see Chris stalking towards you, his eyes narrowed. 

“Hey man,” Marcus moved away and reached out his hand but Chris didn’t slow down. You watched in horror as Chris walked right up to the two of you and threw a punch hitting Marcus square in the face.

“Are you fucking crazy?” You cried out as Marcus fell to the ground clutching his nose. Chris stood over him, his shoulders rising with anger and his fists still clenched. “Chris!” His eyes snapped to yours and they softened slightly. 

“What the hell dude?” Marcus groaned from the floor. 

“I think it’s time for you to go.” Chris growled. 

Marcus stood up with the help of some other people before being escorted out of the kitchen, leaving just you and Chris and the small pool of blood on the floor. 

You looked down at Chris’s hand which was covered in blood. At first you thought it was just Marcus’s but then you realized that there was a large cut running across his knuckles. Sighing you pushed him out of the kitchen towards his bedroom and to his ensuite. 

“Sit down.” You pushed him onto the toilet before going to the cabinet where you knew the first aid kit was. “I can’t believe you.” 

“You can’t believe me?” Chris snapped. “What the hell were you doing with that guy? In my goddamn kitchen no less.” 

“We were having a conversation, you Neanderthal.” You answered, as you rinsed off his cut. Chris hissed in pain as you ran an alcohol wipe over his knuckle. 

“Looked like more than that.” 

“So what if it was, Chris. And if I remember correctly, it was only a couple weeks ago that you and Carissa were telling me to get out there and meet someone.” You raised your eyebrow slightly. 

“She said that, not me.” Chris looked away from you. 

“So what? I’m just supposed to stay single? Is that it? I’m not good enough for your friends? Or do you really think that there’s no one out there that can be with me?” 

Chris’s eyes snapped to yours, the blue darkening. “First of all that jackass is not my friend. And second of all, I didn’t say that. If anything you are too good for the losers out there. You’re too good for anybody.” 

“Well then who?  Who gets the Chris Evans stamp of approval? Please tell me, so I can go and find him.”

“I don’t know! Just not that guy.” Chris stood up towering over you. 

“God, you know you are so fucking annoying.” You pushed against his chest as you turned to walk away from him.  “I’m just trying to be happy. Why can’t you just let me be happy?” 

“You’re going to be happy with that jerkoff?” Chris stepped closer to you. He pulled you back towards him, spinning you around so that you were looking at him. He lifted your chin so you were eye to eye. “You think that guy is the one that’s going to give you everything that you need? That you deserve?” 

“Well the guy that I want I can’t have, so I guess he’ll have to do.” Your heart fluttered as you realized just how close you and Chris had gotten. Your noses were touching and your lips just a breath away from each other. Chris leaned forward slightly, his mouth open but no words coming out. 

“I’m sorry.” Chris sighed, his head dropping. 

“For what? Punching out the first guy to take interest in me or calling me a bitch?” 

Chris winced, his eyes full of regret. He looked like he was about to respond when a voice interrupted the both of you. 

“Chris? Y/N?” You and Chris immediately separated at the sound of Scott’s voice echoing through the bedroom and into the bathroom. 

“In here.” Chris cleared his throat as he called out to his brother. 

“Jesus Christ, Chris. What was that?” Scott threw his hands up. “Carissa is pissed.” 

“I know. I just…” Chris trailed off as he cast a sideways glance in your direction. You refused to look at him, only focusing on the pattern of the floor tile. Chris let out a sigh as he rubbed his face with his good hand. “I’ll go talk to her. Where is she?” 

“Last I saw she stepped outside to check on the guy you fucking decked.” 

Chris just nodded, looking at you once more before brushing past Scott and out the door. 

You and Scott stood there in silence. 

“So how long?” He asked, finally breaking the void.

You looked up at the younger Evans brother, whose hands were now on his hips. 

“What?” 

“How long are you and my idiot older brother going to pretend that you aren’t madly in love with each other.” 

Your heart dropped to your stomach at Scott’s words. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You stated incredulously. 

“I’m talking about the fact that my brother basically broke some poor guy’s nose for even looking in your direction. Or how you guys have been looking at each other like forlorn lovers this entire night.” 

You turned your head away. 

“It’s not like that, Scott.” You whispered. “He’s my-he doesn’t look at me like that.” 

“Sweetheart, are you dumb or are you stupid.” Scott’s words held a joking air to them. He stepped closer to you and took your hands in his. “You should tell him how you feel.” 

“Scott, stop.” Your eyes blurred with tears. “I love him, he’s my best friend and I’m not willing to lose his friendship over a stupid crush that will eventually go away.” 

“Honey, if it hasn’t gone away in the last five years it’s not going away anytime soon.” 

You stared at him with wide eyes as you processed what he said. 

“You think I didn’t know this whole time? Hell, I think the only person who didn’t know was Chris.” 

“Oh god.” You groaned, dropping your head. You were officially embarrassed. Had it really been that obvious for so long? 

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, honey.” Scott soothed as he  grabbed your hands. 

“I need to go. I shouldn’t have come anyway.” You mumbled as you pulled away from Scott. 

“Y/N...you don’t have to leave.” 

“Yes I do.” You shook your head, refusing to look at him. You booked it out of the room and down the hallway, making every effort to avoid anyone and everyone. You walked out to your car and paused as you noticed Chris and Carissa standing by the side of the house. You tried to walk by without them noticing you but as you heard Carissa’s voice call out to you. You had a choice: stop and talk to her or walk the five steps to your car and leave the night behind you. 

Before you could truly over think you rushed to your car, got in and drove off. 

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[ashintheairlikesnow]

OH ANTONI 🥺🥺🥺 my poor baby. I hope he will find it within himself to come clean to Jake or SOMEONE about this :((((

(((ALSO CANT WAIT FOR MORR))))

One Two Three Four Five Six

CW: Wound cleaning, burns, touch aversion, aftermath of torture, BBU, conditioned fucky headspace

"Lift your chin for me," she commands, and he doesn't really remember that he could choose not to obey.

Antoni dutifully shifts, his eyes moving to roam over a line of framed photographs along the wall behind her. A wedding photo, faded with time, a much, much younger version of the woman currently dabbing a cotton ball dipped in something cold and stinging to the fresh burn on his throat with a man he's never seen. The two of them are smiling, holding hands, looking right into the camera.

Bright white wedding dress turned cream with yellowing paper, with time, covered in lace. Powder-blue tuxedo. Brilliant smiles.

She touches the cotton ball to his skin and he hisses, hands tightening where they grip the edges of the chair he's sitting on. The sting rockets through him, only a pale echo of the original pain, but it's enough.

It's enough.

Fuck, that's hot.

He catches the sob before it can leave his throat, forces the burn behind his eyes to stay there and not turn into tears. He will not cry over this again.

Not now.

"There we go, just a bit more," She says, her voice gruffly compassionate. She presses a small rounded bandage against his throat, her fingertips are warm against his neck.

His skin crawls at even this slight, indirect touch, but he doesn't protest.

He wouldn't dare.

"All done. That's not s'bad, I think with a good bandaging it won't scar half so bad as all its little friends down south," She mutters, more to herself than him, really.

Where her fingers touch, he feels the echoes of other hands around his throat. Thicker fingers, heavy with rings. Smiling down at him.

Beg for me, love.

"Please-" It's automatic. He's drifting, in and out of this old kitchen that still looks like it must have looked thirty years ago, when the man in the wedding photo would still be here maybe cooking or cleaning or chatting up a storm to anyone who popped by for a visit.

"Hm? You say something, sweetheart?" Miss Ruth looks at him, and those dark eyes are shrewd. They know more than anyone is supposed to, they know things Nat hasn't told her. Hasn't had to.

"Ah, no," He whispers. "Just. I am very tired."

"No doubt. I'll finish these up and you can get back to your own bed and no doubt you'll be glad to get there." She looks him over, and his eyes dance to hers and away again. Back to the photos.

He sees a family photo, the two people from before and a daughter and son. Everyone is smiling, looking carefully just off to the side. They wear matching outfits.

"Get a look at 'em?"

There's a 35th wedding anniversary picture with a big banner behind the happy couple. The two people, much older, stand in front a cake nearly as tall as they are, surrounded by others. Everyone in the photo smiles in sort of the same way.

The next photo is a birthday, he thinks. There's a boy and a young baby in the photo, and the man from wedding and anniversary photo isn't there. Miss Ruth, holding her grandbaby he thinks, is wearing all black. The photo was taken in a church, and there's a spray of white lilies just visible at the edge of the picture.

Another, with Jaden, who Chris plays basketball with. The kid who more or less effortlessly opened his life for Chris when Chris badly needed a friend his own age, or closer to it, to remember what being a kid was like.

He is reading, in images, the story of this woman's adult life. Marriage, and death, and birth. Children. Life going on.

A life he won't have, that he gave up every possibility of having, because of... of whatever is inside him that Mr. Davies knew about, that the people who just hurt him could see in him even though he cannot see it himself.

He must look like someone who deserves to be hurt.

"Young man." She taps on the back of his hand and he flinches, blinking at her, struggling to pull himself out of his reverie. Her words filter through his mind, shift into the language all his thoughts are moving in, come back out in hers. He swallows, feeling a lump in his throat that refuses to move.

"I'm... sorry," He says softly, with difficulty. "I did not hear."

"I can tell. I asked did you get a good look at whoever did this to you." Her eyes roam over his chest, his stomach. The circle of new burns, placed so carefully compared to the haphazard placement Mr. Davies had favored, no pattern at all. "Looks like they took their damn time, anyway, to get you so much."

"N-... no." Antoni's eyebrows furrow, and he tries to think, but all he can remember is their hands holding the lit cigarettes, the quiet one touching his face, ruffling his hair. He can't... he can't remember their faces at all. "I am sorry."

You're fucking gorgeous, buddy, you know that?

"Hm." If she's disappointed in him, nothing changes about her expression, still held in a kind of skeptical compassion as she wets a new cotton ball in liquid from a small frosted plastic bottle and touches it to each burn, one by one, in the circle. It's like a ritual, the sting, washing away a bit of sin with each hint of pain. He clothes his eyes and breathes carefully through it.

When he is done, each circle covered with a bandage that is shades darker than his skin, she steps back to look him over, critically. She steps away and he takes in deep breaths free of her air, the powdery scent of her. He breathes in her absence, no one nearby.

She returns with a washcloth and he takes it, scrubs at his face until his cheeks are red but clean, until you can't tell anymore that he cried while they burned him.

Good boy.

"You can stay here," She says, voice low now. "Sleep it off for a while. I've got a guest room."

"No. No, I will go home. Thank you. I will... I want to go home." He looks out the kitchen window right at Nat's house next door. No lights are on... yet. But there isn't much time before they will be.

"Fair enough. You plan to tell 'em what happened to you?"

He looks back at her, searches for the judgement, finds none.

"No," He says. Confesses, really, his sin. "I will not."

I will lie to them.

"That's your choice to make, I suppose." She lays a hand on his arm. He doesn't pull away from her. He wants to unzip himself from his skin and step out of it, let them all have what they seem to want to touch so much.

Instead, he holds himself perfectly still, until she pats him a few times and steps away again.

"I've done what I can do. You come back over here tomorrow or the day after and we'll look 'em over again and make sure they're healing up nice, you got me?"

"Yes," He says. He is good. He can be good.

"Right. Off you go, then, before your people wake up and you get to come up with a story about why you're in an old widow's house at 4:30 in the morning, hm? You're pretty enough, but you're no Wilbur." She laughs to herself, a dry and crackly sound, and he thinks that her laugh was the sort that could set a whole crowd to laughing, when she was young.

It still is.

The corners of his mouth twitch in an answering smile.

"Yes, ma'am," he says, and pushes himself off the edge, standing up again. No one has seen his scars, no one but this old neighbor woman who looks at them like they are simply part of living, not something to be pitied. "I go. S-... thank you."

"Paugh." She scoffs, waves a hand in dismissal. "Go on, now. You've thrown off my morning coffee time. Tell your young man that Jaden will be over this afternoon."

She all but shoos him out the door, and the air is clear and clean and quiet. The only dirty thing is Antoni himself, smudged and mussed, still feeling in his scalp the prickles of Quiet One's hands, still feeling on his arms the sharp pressure of the shirt tied around his wrists.

Still aware of every single burn under the slight pull of the bandages pressed over them, the gentle sting that feels like a return to how he was always meant to be.

Even the walk from one yard to another feels like too much. Antoni's eyes move over the empty darkened windows of the houses all around him. How obvious he must be, if three people saw him in the darkness and knew him for a pet pretending to be human.

He shouldn't have left, shouldn't have gone on those walks. He'd left himself open and vulnerable, hadn't he? His scars are deeper than skin, and they must shine like the streetlights to anyone who knows what to look for.

Antoni stops at the porch, where he carefully lifts a loose bit of board from the porch railing, finds the small box hidden inside. The slightest scrape of metal on metal as he pulls off the lid makes him freeze, but no one is awake to hear it. He takes the contents of the box, moves it quickly back to its hiding place, replaces the board.

Like nothing ever happened.

Everything can be made as good as new, as long as it isn't him.

He slips inside the safehouse, where everything is still quiet, in the silent inhale that comes before the exhalation of morning. The clock in the kitchen reads 4:45, fifteen minutes until Jake's alarm will go off, until he - and likely Chris - will stir.

Fifteen minutes for Antoni get upstairs and look so deeply asleep that no one will realize he was ever gone.

No time to shower.

He will have to sleep with the grime of their hands still ground deep into every single pore. He will sleep with Deep Voice's we know what you are in his ears, with Quiet One's fingers tangled in his hair, running over his skin. He will sleep with Lookout's eyes locked on his chest as he presses the cigarette in.

Antoni hasn't worn a collar in years now, but he buckles it on, just one notch too tight like Mr. Davies would have, and climbs under the covers, pulling them over his head.

He breathes in as deep as he can, to feel the constriction. Breathes out, and runs his hand up over his chest, over the bandages that cover his burns.

They knew what he was.

Everyone always will.

Good boy.

The ashtray falls asleep humming a lullaby, afraid that if he pulls the blankets back down he will see bars on the windows.

[madamewriterofwrongs]

Missed High Five

911/Buddie

For @buckleysjareau who asked for Buck giving Eddie flirting lessons <3

If he was going to blame anyone, he would blame Chimney. No, he would blame himself for listening to Chimney. What did he know about dating anyways? Sure, he and Maddie had been through hell and were still going on dates and discovering things they loved about each other and seemed to be genuinely happy together. But that was a fluke, obviously.

Just ask them out. The worst they can do is say ‘no’ and then you can move on.

Horrible advice. In point of fact, the worst thing they could do was not ‘say no’. They could laugh in their face; they could say yes to avoid conflict; they could ask for a transfer and they’d never see each other again.

Maybe Chimney’s advice would be different if he knew that he was telling him to ask out a coworker.

Either way, it was definitely Chimney’s fault, and not the extra shot he’d done at the bar while they were all out celebrating Albert’s birthday.

“It’s weird, right?” Hen tucked into his side as he lounged at the edge of the party. “Not knowing any of Albert’s friends?”

Eddie shrugged to avoid admitting that he was incredibly uncomfortable. “That seems to be the way with us, though. Any excuse to get together.” He took another swig of beer, eye catching sight of the object of his interest dancing with a few of Albert’s coworkers. “Or maybe it’s just weird because we’re making it weird.”

Hen followed his line of sight, chuckling when she found Buck twirling a young woman who was clearly starstruck by the older man.

“More like we have the common sense to know when the age gap is too wide.”

Just ask them out.

Chugging the last of his bottle with an audible gulp, Eddie kept his eyes squarely on his target as he slammed the glass on the bar behind him. “Then I guess I’d better go save him.”

Eddie hated the dance floor; there was a reason he’d been avoiding it all night. It was overwhelmingly hot and crowded and too loud to hear anything beyond the pounding of the bass under their feet. He’d never held much love for clubbing in his twenties and he certainly held no affection for it now. He was here to celebrate the birth of a mutual acquaintance and save his best friend from embarrassing himself from being too nice to realize when he was being hit on.

How the mighty have fallen, Chimney had teased him the first time the waitress at their usual place pouted over not getting his number. Buck hadn’t even noticed that she was dropping obvious hints about what time she got off work and whether his apartment was close by. He’d just answered her questions respectfully, turning back to his conversation with the table until Chimney had finally slapped him upside the head for being so oblivious.

None of us what Playgirl Buck to make a reappearance but that was just pathetic.

Eddie had never seen the so-called ‘Buck 1.0’, only the lovelorn 2.0 who’d lost his girlfriend long before he realized, and struggled to find solid ground in the midst of rediscovering his priorities. He liked that Buck – there was a reason they’d become such fast friends – but even he had to admit that the man had lost his game.

“Eddie!” He couldn’t help the fond smile that crossed his face when his friend shouted his name over the thrumming music. “Come join the land of the living.”

“Actually, I came to drag you back to the land of the dead. We’re taking Christopher to the zoo in the morning, remember?” Buck seemed to miss the way the woman he was dancing with instinctually stepped away at the mention of the little boy. Eddie did not.

“Fine,” the blond sighed, though his face showed no signs of being put out. That was something that Eddie had admired in his friend from the very beginning: his unabashed love for Christopher. That kid was possibly the most loveable creature on the planet but the way Buck cared for him was a beacon in the darkness of space. “I’ll just say ‘bye’ to Albert.” With that, he’d disappeared into the crowd, leaving Eddie surrounding by sweaty, noisy, thrumming twenty-somethings, without anyone to save him.

Okay, so the music wasn’t that bad. And the crowds – while plentiful – were keeping a respectful distance (he wasn’t getting jostled about, nor was he being judged for using the word ‘jostled’). In fact, it had a pretty good beat to it. He could probably find the rhythm and dance to it, if he wanted to. It wasn’t awful in here after all.

The hand between his shoulder blades made him jump. “Ready to go?” Oh, thank goodness.

With one last wave to his fellow old fogeys at the bar, he followed Buck out of the crowd and into the cool night air.

It was always cooler outside than in some noisy club but in point of fact, it was a warm California summer, dulled by the lights of the city which overtook the starless black sky. Nevertheless, Eddie found himself drawn to Buck for warmth (or so he convinced himself). It had nothing to do with the comfort and ease he felt with the other man, content at his side in a way he never realized he could feel with another person.

He’d accepted some time ago, that he was ready to begin dating again. Life after Shannon was still boiling over with guilt and loss, but he had started to wonder – thanks to some helpful sessions with his work-mandated therapist – that sharing that grief with another person would help the healing process. So, he’d begun to look at the world with fresh eyes; almost immediately, those eyes had fallen on his best friend. The man who’d been by his side since their first meeting, protecting his son, comforting him through unspeakable loss, leaving (as they always did) but coming back.

He couldn’t quite put a word to how he felt for Buck, but if there was going to be a reason to reenter the dating pool, it would be to figure out what that word was.

So, yes, he may have found comfort in leaning against Buck’s side long ago, but he was now acutely aware of how often he did it, and how much he enjoyed it. It wouldn’t be a grand feat to place his arm around the other man’s waist, or let Buck put his hand on his shoulder. In fact, he found the urge to pull himself closer grew stronger the more he let his mind wander.

There were just one or two things he had to get out in the open, first.

“Hey, Buck” he spoke as casually as a man with a singular focus could speak. “If I wanted to ask someone out, what do you think is the best way to do it?”

Eddie tripped over his feet when Buck stopped dead in his tracks, turning to face his friend with laser-focused intensity. There was something etched there – concern? Jealousy (he wouldn’t dare to think)? Excitement?

“You got someone in mind?”

He couldn’t know, could he? Was he so obvious that one question revealed his secret? It was better to test the waters first.

“I do, actually. It’s a coworker; a friend.”

Buck hissed in discomfort, shoving his hands into his pockets with enthusiasm. “That’s tricky. Trust me when I say that sleeping with your coworkers is dangerous.” His shocked expression must have been as evident as his longing, because Buck chuckled a moment later. “Not at the 118. It was before I moved to LA and definitely a mistake.”

It was not as reassuring as Buck seemed to think it would be.

“So you don’t think I should go for it?”

“I didn’t say that, just” Even his non-committal shrug was cute. Eddie was doomed. “Be careful, I guess.”

What was he supposed to do, now? How could he test the waters knowing Buck was hesitant to dip his toe in? Perhaps he should just abort the whole mission and go back to caring too deeply for a man who’d come to mean the world to him.

He couldn’t blame Evan Buckley for turning him into a sap, but his presence in his life certainly hadn’t helped his natural inclinations.

“So…” Eddie startled when Buck bumped his shoulder. They’d been walking towards his truck – parked far enough away from the bar that he’d briefly contemplated just walking from home – for a few minutes while he lost himself contemplating whether or not to follow Chimney’s advice and just ask him out, already.

“So what?”

“Do I know this person you want to ask out?”

He suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to find out if the rumors of an entrance to Hell in Pasadena were true.

“Yeah, actually, pretty well.”

“So it’s someone we work with.” Buck bounced along the sidewalk, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Interesting. What’s your game plan?”

He was wrong; this was hell. This moment, walking beside his best friend on a random Saturday evening, was the definition of hell.

“I don’t really have a plan” he admitted, realizing in that moment, how close it was to the truth. Alarm bells began to chime with a reminder that this was a bad idea. Yet, still, he persisted.

“Then you’re in luck because I am here to help.”

“I’m sorry, when was the last time you went on a date?”

Buck made a disgruntled face, hidden by his smile, the way he did whenever Eddie teased him. He’d long ago catalogued the way his facial expressions changed depending on which of their friends was doing the teasing. This look was his one of his favourites.

“It’s been a while” thirteen months and nineteen days (not that Eddie was counting) “but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I think that’s exactly what it means.”

“Look, do you want my help or not?”

More warning bells clattered through his, admittedly, less fuzzy brain, but for some reason – which, to this day, he still isn’t sure of the reason – Eddie ignored them.

“Fine. What’d you got?”

The man punched his hand in excitement, fairly skipping down the street now; eyes aglow with enthusiasm (or perhaps it was just the smog).

“Okay, so, first of all: do you know if they’re interested?”

If that wasn’t that the million-dollar question on Eddie’s mind. “I’m not sure. I know they’re open to the possibility of dating, but they haven’t made any signal that they’re interested in me specifically.”

“That’s okay. Now you just have to woo them.”

He hadn’t meant to laugh so loudly, but it was impossible to know what Buck would say next on any given day; and tonight was no exception.

“Woo?”

“Yeah,” The firefighter plowed on with his usual fervor. “you know: you spend time with them, give them gifts, take any opportunity you can to touch them.”

“Touch them, how?”

They hadn’t stopped walking, but Eddie found himself dizzy from the realization of how slowly they were moving – how close they were. They were always comfortable standing shoulder to shoulder but suddenly, it was too much and not enough. The space under his collarbones grew incredibly hot.

“Just little things.” Buck bumped his friend’s shoulder with more purpose, rubbing the fabric of their shirts together. “A shoulder touch, a hand on the small of the back,” he demonstrated with a move that startled Eddie with its certainty. “Any chance you get, create a physical connection.”

They’d all but stopped walking now, Buck’s hand cupping his back, his own traitorous limbs reaching out to hook into his friend’s jeans. If he pulled hard enough, maybe he could make Buck gasp the way he did in his head when they-

Buck seemed completely oblivious to the stretch of rope between them; anticipation pulled taut. His smile was as calm and eager as ever, so proud that Eddie was a hands-on learner.

If only he knew how hands-on.

“Does it work?” Eddie found himself hoping for a very specific answer that he wouldn’t dare spell out, even in his mind.

“It always works for me.”

The pair hadn’t separated, though the moment was long past over. Yet, Buck still smiled, unaware of how close he was to everything changing.

That was the chink in his normally confident armor. He wasn’t worried that Buck would hurt him, or that they would lose their friendship if things went south – he wasn’t even concerned with how their work dynamic might be altered by the addition of a more personal relationship in a high stress job. It was that things would change; things, which he’d only barely gotten a handle on. Sharing a bed, sharing aspects of his private life, trusting and opening up more than he already had with Buck. And it would all happen at once. He hadn’t been a wonderful partner the first time around; there was no guarantee he’d get it right now.

When did Eddie start thinking of Buck on par with Shannon?

“So” he cleared his throat but hadn’t found the courage to let go of Buck’s belt loop (nor had Buck removed his hand from the small of his back). “spend time, give gifts, and touch them. Then what?”

“If they’re receptive to all your advances, then you just have to go for it.” Buck nodded unhelpfully. “Ask them out.”

“Why is that everyone’s advice?” Eddie grumbled to himself.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He was doomed. “So when you say ‘spend time together’, do you mean like how we’re taking Christopher to the zoo tomorrow?”

The way Buck tilted his head in contemplation shouldn’t have been as endearing as he found it, but at that point, there was nothing to do but admit that he was a goner for everything that man did.

“Yeah; or how I let you drag me to baseball games.”

“I don’t drag you” Eddie lied.

“I’m not going for the overpriced beer and popcorn.” It was an admission that gripped his heart with something akin to hope.

“And giving gifts. Like that skateboard you found for Christopher?”

“That was mostly for Christopher” Buck conceded, still only a tantalizing breath away and none the wiser. “But yeah. Or when you fixed my bike on your day off. It’s the little things that mean the most, right?”

He hadn’t spent two hours learning how to repair Buck’s broken line in order to see the smile on his face, but the hug he received was well worth the blood, sweat, and swearing.

“And touching?”

He was a fool for asking but he was worse for wishing he didn’t have to. For wanting to have the power to kiss and press and hold whenever he wanted without having to go through the stress of risking his heart.

The worst was wondering if Buck looked down at his lips intentionally or if it was a simple reflex.

“Touch can be as simple as brushing shoulders.” He half-expected the man to demonstrate the way they had been for so many months, but his fingers curled against the fabric of Eddie’s sweater as if willing himself not to. “Or it can be a welcome hug, sitting next to them when there’s space to be apart.” He didn’t need to catalogue the library of examples he had because each touch had been seared into his skin since he realized it was an option. Standing this close, Eddie was certain he could see the same memories flashing through Buck’s eyes, the warmth of their breaths mingling together like smoke in the breeze.

It would be so simple now: reach out and steal that first kiss he’d been craving all night. And it would taste sweet. Buck was always going to taste sweet but he’d also tried some artsy blueberry ale and the scent of it still lingered. He could close his eyes and pretend they’d always been kissing; pull him close and never let go.

But he’d never steal their first moment together. It was meant to be shared, to enjoyed equally and with the same longing enthusiasm; he needed to take the plunge first.

“And then you ask them out?”

“Exactly.” Buck, endearingly oblivious Buck, smiled proudly at his protegee and tilted his head away, still not leaving the safety of their bubbly but no longer engaged in their battle of wills that he didn’t realize he’d won.

How was Eddie meant to resist?

“Go out with me?”

“Just like that. I doubt they’ll say no.”

Eddie’s stomach dropped to the ground and rolled into on-coming traffic. “Is that a ‘yes’?”

Buck furrowed his brow in confusion. “Yes, that was a straightforward way of asking someone out.”

There were many times in his career as a firefighter that Eddie had to control his expression for the unbelievable things people said to him on a call – some were awful, some where hilarious, others were just ridiculous – and he was quite proud of his ability to school his features in the face of adversity. He was never prepared to use that super power while off the clock.

“Are you serious?” He gaped at Buck with pure confusion and disbelief – and no short measure of disappointment. “Is this your way of turning me down or did you really not know?” He couldn’t decide which was worse – yes, he could, but he was still fighting his traitorous heart beating out of his chest at the realization of what he was about to reveal.

“Not know what?” It genuinely was so innocent.

With his last ounce of will power, Eddie released his friend’s belt loops and guided him backwards. Cold air hit his chest and he was reminded of how exposed they were in this moment – not only from the elements but from his heart, as cliché as it was. Buck seemed reluctant to release the grip on Eddie’s now-rumpled shirt but he did it, and the space became even greater as he mourned the loss of being completely surrounded.

He needed the room to offer his heart.

“Buck, I was trying to ask you out.”

Silence; the passage of time marked only by the widening of his friend’s eyes.

“Oh.” Realization. “Oh.” Comprehension.”

His heart crumbled. “Yeah. But, I understand that you’re not inter”

“I am.” The panic was surprising but the sincerity knocked him off-center. “I definitely am.” With every rambled word, Eddie was forced to lean back from the sheer gravity of Buck’s energy. “I had hoped and then I had stopped hoping and then you wanted advice and I thought I’d missed my chance and then I got so caught up I thought I was misinterpreting everything and I didn’t want to assume but I also really, like, being close to you, Eddie and if this was my only chance then I was going to take it but it seems like it might not be my only chance unless I’ve completely blown my shot which I might have because I don’t think I’ve ever rambled this much – why can’t I stop talking, Eddie, I’m never like this, I promise – I think I’m realizing in real-time just how much I screwed up what is probably the best thing in my life”

“You didn’t screw up anything.” The urge to laugh at the breathless man before him was smothered by throwing both hands over Buck’s mouth. “You didn’t screw up a damn thing. Though the rambling is new.” He allowed a chuckle to escape and it seemed to ease the tension in his friend’s shoulders. Everything fell silent again as Eddie stared into those bright blue eyes filled with what he finally recognized as the same hope he’d been carrying around.

“Go out with me, Buck?”

Without missing a beat, the other man nodded vigorously beneath Eddie’s hands, feeling the smile stretch wide.

“Good. I’m glad.”

A warm hand circled his, gently pulling his hand away from Buck’s mouth but never straying far from his face; the smile had turned a familiar shade of cocky and cute – though the latter was a newer realization.

“So I guess my technique worked, huh?”

Eddie gaped in some horrible mix between genuine offence and pure joy. The little-how could he-did he think-why would he-he’s trying to-

“Shut up” he floundered, using their joined hands to push Buck’s chest away, though the other man never released his grip and with a simple tug, he found himself back in their familiar bubble. Not safe from the cruel reality, but secure in their new truth and warmed by hope.

“Make me.”

He had every intention of doing just that.

[anxiousstark]

S2 09 | Party Guessed

BIG MASTERLIST | TW REWRITE

Stiles Stilinski x Reader! Half-sibling!Mccall

Word count: 2681

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, murder, drugs, swearing (always).

↪ PLEASE RESPECT MY WORK. DON’T COPY, TRANSLATE OR CLAIM THEM AS YOURS. NOT ON THIS WEBSITE OR ANOTHER. ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED.

I kneeled on the floor, moving my bedsheets so I could glance under my bed. The black backpack stared back at me, a little of dust throughout it. I grabbed it, taking it out, examining it for a couple of minutes. I still couldn't do it. I couldn't open it. At least, not on my own.

I placed it over my shoulder, walking out of my room. Strolling past two more doors, I witnessed Scott laying down on his bed. Derek had asked him to go back home and rest. It was difficult for him to do that, he wanted to stay, and go after the Kanima. He was a wolf so he could heal faster, but physical pain and emotional pain were two different things.

I knocked on the door even though it was wide open. He sat down on his bed, smiling at me, letting me know that I could go inside. "Hey," I offered him a tiny grin. He greeted me back, making a place on his bed so I could sit next to him. "Feeling better?"

"I'm a werewolf," He chuckled. "No injuries anymore. I'm okay." I shook my head, letting him know that I wasn't talking about his injury, but Allison Argent. "It will be alright. I-I don't really want to talk about that right now." He pleaded.

I nodded. "Actually," I felt a know in my throat. "Remember that day we got detention? Well, you guys did. I went to the police station with Sheriff Stilinski." He curiously nodded his head, telling me to continue. "You know about my mom, right?"

"Kind of."

I dropped the backpack, falling with a slightly 'thud' on top of his bed. "This was hers. Some of the things they let her keep. Sheriff Stilisnki was given this by the Sheriff who carried her case." He placed his hand on top of my right arm. "I didn't want it, but Noah thought I should decide what to do with it, and even though I don't want to be reminded of her..." I swallowed. "I need to check something." I licked my bottom lip, clutching the bag.

"Should we do it together?"

I glanced at him, nodding my head, begging for him to go through this with me. Blinking a couple of times, my hands grabbed the bag even tighter.

Scott moved over, taking a look inside the bag. "There isn't much," He reaffirmed what I already could see. Before his hand went into the bag to grab some things, he stared at me, asking for permission. I just nodded my head. He took a couple of pictures out, four or five. Pictures of her favourite celebrities, some of them had passed out a couple of years ago. There was only one picture that caught my attention. "Is this your mom?" I just nodded again.

I took the other items out of the bag, some receipts from places she went to before she was sent to jail. Then, I saw another picture. A picture that not only affected me but also Scott. The sperm-donor that started all of this.

"W-Where they together when your mom went to jail?" His voice was full of bitterness.

"No," I set the picture inside the bag again. I was mad. Hurt. Broken. But mostly, consumed by rage.

"Are you okay?" His hand rubbed my back. I couldn't help but lean on him. "Is there something wrong?" He looked over everything again.

"There is something wrong." I sighed. "Scott, if your mom left for a long time. What would she take with her?"

He seemed confused, eyes moving from side to side, trying to think. "Clothes, money, Uhm, may-"

"A picture," I interrupted him. "At least she would take a picture of you with her," I offered a sad smile. My eyes were teary. "She would take a picture of her so-loved son so she could stare at it whenever she would feel lost, confused, happy, sad...There is a picture of that fucking asshole, and that one," I pointed at the photograph of my mother that he was still holding in his hand. On it, she was laughing at the camera, her teeth were yellowish due to the drugs, and her hair was a dyed mess. Next to her, her friend, the one who took care of me also smiled at the camera. My eyes went back to the woman who gave birth to me, you could only see half of her left arm. Someone had ripped the picture. "I was there," I replied. "The part of the picture that it is missing, I was there, holding her hand. I was 6 years old."

I heard him swallow. "Maybe it got ripped, and-"

"Scott," I sighed, a couple of tears wetting my face. "A mother would do anything for their child. Keeping me was harder than keeping a fucking piece of paper. She couldn't keep me, but she could have done that with a little piece of paper if she loved me."

"Come here," He neglected the pictures, kicking them with his feet, out of the bed. Open arms waiting for me to rest against his chest, offering comfort. The comfort I hadn't felt in years.

"Oh, whoa. Can't. Okay. You know you don't- Can you just grab that side, maybe?" I shifted my gaze to the door when I heard Stiles's voice. He had a gift that was bigger than him. A gift for Lydia Martin's birthday.

"There he is." Scott made a gesture, indicating me to follow him towards our goofy friend.

"Have you guys seen Jackson anywhere?" Stilisnki asked as he walked towards us, offering me a little shy smile.

"No. Seen Allison?"

"No, but we should probably tell her what we found."

"I'm still kind of not sure what we found."

"I figured out it has something to do with water. You know, the fact that all the victims were on the swim team, the way the Kanima reacted around the pool." While he explained, his gaze examined every person that was in Lydia's birthday party. "And that connects the Kanima with you," He glanced at me. True, it didn't know how to swim, but for some reason, he wanted me dead.

"My scales," I interrupted. "The first time I got my scales, it was that day at the pool." I realized the following. "The Kanima isn't a water creature, but what if I am?" They both nodded. Stiles reassuring me, determining that we would continue investigating.

"So whoever's controlling the Kanima really hates the swim team?"

"Hated the swim team. Specifically, the 2006 swim team. So it could be another teacher. Maybe like a student back then. I mean, who are we missing though? What haven't we thought of?"

Stiles stopped speaking when we saw Allison entering the party. "Uh, Jackson's not here."

"Yeah, no one's here," Scott replied, stating that maybe it was too early. "Or maybe nobody's coming because Lydia's turned into the town whackjob."

After his words, I glanced around, until I found Lydia, also looking around her, noticing that we were the only ones there. "Well, we have to do something, because we've completely ignored her for the past two weeks." I agreed with Allison, even though I was still a little mad by her lack of trust in us.

"She's completely ignored Stiles the past ten years."

"I prefer to think of it as me not having been on her radar yet." I sighed. Scott peered at me, offering me a little smile, which confused me.

"We don't owe her a party."

My eyes were still set on Lydia. She didn't deserve to be treated like that. "We do." The other McCall glanced at me. "She wouldn't be the town whackjob if it wasn't for us."

"I guess I could use my co-captain status to get the lacrosse team here."

"Yeah, I also know some people who can get this thing going. Like, REALLY going."

"Who?"

"I met them the other night. Let's just say they know how to party."

A couple of minutes after, the party was now full of people. Scott was sitting down on a couch, arms around his waist. Stiles's back was resting against a pillar, a drink on his hand. I was standing next to him, avoiding alcohol. I didn't feel like drinking, not with the situation going on.

"Are you gonna apologize to Allison or what?"

"Why should I apologize?"

"Because you're the guy. It's, like, what we do." Stiles glanced at me, looking for approval.

"To be honest," I sighed while crossing my arms under my chest. "I feel like she should be the one apologizing." Scott stared at me, smirking victoriously.

"Exactly, I didn't do anything wrong."

"Then you should definitely apologize." Stiles intervened. "See, any time a guy thinks he hasn't done anything wrong, it means he's definitely done something wrong."

"I'm not apologizing."

"Is that the full moon talking, buddy?"

"Probably. Why do you care, anyway?"

"Because, Scott, something's gotta go right here. I mean, we're getting our asses royally kicked, if you haven't noticed. People are dying. I got my dad fired. You're gonna be held back in school. I'm in love with-." His eyes examined Lydia, then his eyes stayed on me for a couple of minutes. Maybe he thought that I didn't know about his crush on Lydia? "Ugh. And if on top of all that, I gotta watch you lose Allison to a stalker like Matt, I'm gonna stab myself in the face."

I let Stiles rumble, glancing around the room. People seemed to be having lots of fun, but it could be interrupted. "Don't stab yourself in the face," Both of their attention went to me. "Jackson's here."

When I noticed Lydia coming closer to us, I decided to let her talk with Scott and Stiles. "Hey guys, I'm gonna go to the bathroom."

Before I could walk away from them, a hand grabbed my wrist. "Do you need me to go with you?" Stiles asked. "Like, wait, that sounded wrong. Not like go IN the bathroom with you, but like, so you-"

"Stiles," I laughed. "I understood what you meant. I'm okay. I just need to go to the bathroom. I will be fine." I glanced at Lydia, then back at him. "It's your opportunity to be with Lydia," I whispered, turning around.

"I don't want to be with-."

I couldn't hear what he said due to the music, but I didn't give it too much importance, going upstairs in search of a bathroom. What I found, wasn't what I wanted.

"Stalking. So I-I'm a stalker now. That's- Is that it? Y-you think my bedroom is wallpapered with your photos? You think I'm the kind of guy that's gonna say something like, 'well, if I can't have her, no one can.' Well, you know what? Get over yourself, because another pretty girl is walking through the room every five minutes." Matt. I didn't like this guy at all.

"Well, then, all you have to do is wait for another three. Good luck."

"Allison, wait. What is the matter with you?" He seized her wrist. I couldn't control myself, going inside the room, and grabbing freeing Allison from Matt's hold.

"No," I replied. "What is wrong with you? Didn't you say something about pretty girls walking through the door every five minutes?" He glared at me. "Then go find one who gives you her consent, Allison didn't."

I clutched Allison's hand, leading her out of the room. "You always are where you shouldn't be." I heard Matt. Was he talking about me? I don't give a shit.

We went downstairs, I asked Allison a couple of times if she was alright. But she just ignored me, looking forward. "No. No, not here. Scott. Scott!" She started screaming. I walked around, placing myself in front of her so I could observe her face. "No!" She pushed me with all of her strength. I fell to the ground. Allison was grabbing her stomach while laboured breathes escaped through her lips. She examined her hands, terrified.

"Allison?" I asked worriedly while getting up. "What's going on?"

"I-I just saw myself with a crossbow, and the arrow pierced my stomach. I-It felt so real."

I nodded my head, heart beating wildly. "I need to find the boys."

I found Stiles outside. He was focused on a group of people that were partying. His eyes seemed lost, like Allison's eyes were a couple of minutes ago. I fastly walked to him when I saw him cover his face with his arm. "Stiles," He examined me. His right hand touching my face to make sure that I was real. "Did you just hallucinate?" His eyes were teary while he nodded. I let my hands grab his cheeks, caressing them, and rubbing the tears off. "Allison did also hallucinate, I think something is going on." He nodded, trying to breathe. "Do you want to talk about it?" He shook his head.

His legs started shaking. I couldn't hold up his weight, so I helped him sit on the floor. In seconds, almost every person in the party was on the floor or stumbling around. A hand touched my shoulder, which makes me flinch until I saw Scott. "Scott somethin-" He nodded his head.

"Stiles, look at me. Drink the water. Stiles, drink it. Something's happening, and I need you to sober up right now. Come on, Stiles." He tried to make him drink from a water bottle.

Danielle, a black girl who I met at the party walked up to us. She smiled at me. I've talked to her during the party, and she was great. "What do you think you are doing? You want to sober him up fast, that's not the way to do it."

"You can do better?" I asked hopefully.

"I can do best, baby girl." He grabbed Stiles's head, submerging it into the water of the pool. "Whoo! How do you feel?"

"Like I might have to revisit my policy on hitting a girl," I smirked, still caressing his hands.

"He's sober." She winked at me, leaving us on our own.

"Dude, anyone who drank that crap, they're freaking out." Stiles seemed to be back to his normal self, examining the other people at the party. We couldn't find Allison, so I just hoped that she would be alright.

"I can see that."

I glanced down at the hoodie Stiles had let me wear as I was cold. There was some purple dust on it. I put it closer to my face, then the breeze stirred it, making me cough.

"What the hell do we do?" I glanced up when Stiles spoke.

A little girl. What the fuck was doing a little girl at a party?

Her eyes met mine. "Help me, please." I stared at her, bewildered, but took a step forward to help her. She was too close to the pool, and the others didn't seem to care about her.

"Where are you going?" Stiles grasped my hand.

"She needs help." I didn't look at him.

"Who?"

"Her, Stiles." I finally glanced at him. "There's a little girl there, we need to take her out of here-."

"What are you talking about?" Scott checked my eyes. "You didn't drink, right?" I shook my head, glancing back at the little girl. Then I heard this frightful sound. The little girl fell to the floor, blood covering her small body. I gasped. My eyes moved around, someone had shot her, and that's when I saw her; Alice, my mom.

"Hey!" Stiles was grabbing my face. "Snap back to reality. Whatever you saw wasn't real, okay?" It was. It was real. She did that. She really did that.

She shot her.

"I can't swim! No, no, no, no, stop, guys! I can't swim! I can't swim! I can't. I can't-” Matt?

Everything happened so fast, the cops appeared, and that's when we found out that Matt was controlling the Kanima. But this wasn't over.

.

.

TAGLIST: @og-baby-ob14 - @savemypostcards - @cas-loves-pizza - @used-avocado - @mvrylee - @bilesxbilinskixlahey - @honeydoll-stark - @arieltheworldisamess - @softpeteparker - @kit-kat-katie99 - @thatsuperherosidekick - @bexbetterxthanxwords - @big-galaxy-chaos - @littlemiss-forgotten - @enchantedcruelsummer - @coldfreakeggsexpert - @merla123 - @sammypotato67 - @weirdowithnobeardo - @maggiesblogsblog - @itskindyl - @bobo-bush - @moongoddesskiana - @multifandxm353 - @irwxnhugsx - @xoprincessmel - @iclosetgeek - @andreagf956 - @niawoods - @anerroroccurrrrred - @perrytheplatypus11 - @trustfundparker - @nmriia - @steve-harringtonnn - @trustfundparker - @brithedemonspawn - @weirdowithnobeardo - @my-soul-is-the-moon - @azayamari - @poguestyle17​ - @bibliophilewednesday​ - 

People in bold means it doesn’t let me tag them.

[schrijverr]

'Till Death Do Us Part

Part 2 of 13

When Alex has to bring Philip to work, he and Thomas discover that they both have something in common: they lost their love. They form an unexpected bond and connection about this that grows into something more.

A medium burn with parental feelings about Philip and flowers.

On AO3.

Ships: Jamilton

Warnings: grief/mourning and mentions of unhealthy coping and death.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 2: Dwarf Sunflowers Means ‘Adoration’

Thomas phone lit up on a Sunday, the screen blinking with Alex’s contact as Thomas frowned confused as he picked up: “Alex? What do you need?”

“Oh thank god, Thomas,” Alex’s voice sounded hoarse, like he’d been crying.

“Are you okay?” the words were out of his mouth before he could question them.

There was a shaky breath, before Alex said: “No- yes- maybe? I don’t know, just- fuck- it’s- it’s his birthday today and I normally can handle it, but- I don’t know, just- Pip was so excited about getting his Halloween costume and they look so much alike and I- I can’t deal with it.”

“What can I do? Just tell me what to do,” Thomas urged him, already changing his sweat pants for comfortable jeans.

“Can you come over?” Alex sounded small, “I know it isn’t really what we do, but Pip likes you and I just can’t be alone right now, but everyone always looks at me so pitying and I just- not today.”

“Yeah, I get it. I’m on my way, be there in five,” Thomas said, grabbing his keys on the way out.

Before he hung up, he swore he heard a soft thank you come through, but he must have made that up. There was no way Alex was thanking him.

He got to Alex’s house in four minutes and felt oddly nervous as he knocked on the door.

After a few seconds the door swung open to reveal a rumpled Alex. He was clad in sweatpants and a hoodie, his hair tied up in a messy bun and he had red rims under his eyes as the world seemed to weigh him down.

From inside the house a TV could be heard and Alex shrugged: “I sat Pip down with a movie and that probably makes me a shitty parent, but I think it would be more shitty to have him witness my breakdown in the bathroom.”

Thomas didn’t respond, just stepped forwards and pulled Alex into a tight hug, standing there as the other started to cry again, clutching his shirt.

“Just let it out,” he encouraged Alex as he walked them to the kitchen, still hugging as he closed the door behind them and made sure they wouldn’t attract Philip’s attention.

He waited, holding Alex as the man cried out his frustration and grief, while Thomas just petted his hair and let him. He said no soothing words, there were no words that could soothe this deep ache and he knew it.

After a few minutes Alex had tired himself out and just hiccuped slightly.

“Alex, I’m gonna ask you the shittiest question there is, but what has you most upset right now? Out of everything, what is making you the most upset?” Thomas asked.

It wasn’t quiet as Alex thought, the man mumbling under his breath. He’d always done it and Thomas just had to wait until Alex could form his thoughts louder.

“I guess- I guess I’m just frustrated that I can’t enjoy something as stupid as going to buy a Halloween costume with my son, that I can’t seem to shake the shadow in the happy moments even when I want to and I know John would have wanted me to,” Alex finally answered.

Thomas nodded, his mind forming a plan.

“What’s Philip dressing up as?” he asked.

The question threw Alex off guard and he simply answered: “A dinosaur, why?”

He chuckled slightly at the costume choice, then said: “Okay, this is what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna go upstairs, you’re going to shower, you’re going to get dressed in comfortable but presentable clothes. Yeah? And then we’re going to the store and getting Philip his costume. After that we can go say hi to John if you want, show him the costume and then we’re getting hot chocolate. You got that?”

“I really don’t know if I can go outside today. I don’t want to see the world move on when I feel it should just stand still,” Alex whispered.

Thomas gave him a comforting look and said: “I know. It fucking sucks, but Philip is excited for his costume and sitting here feeling shitty for yourself isn’t going to make you feel better. Either of you.”

It seemed Alex was giving in, so Thomas played his ace: “I’ll be there the whole time, if you need to break down, I’ll handle Philip. Let him have a good day.”

“Fuck, I hate that you’re right,” Alex sighed. Victory.

“I’m always right,” Thomas smirked, he couldn't help himself, “Does Philip need to get dressed or is he good to go?”

“Just needs shoes,” Alex replied.

“Good, I’ll go chat with him and you are going to…” he waited for Alex to finish the sentence.

“I’m gonna go upstairs, shower, put on some clothes,” he listed.

“Exactly, now go,” Thomas ushered Alex up the stairs, before starting the kettle. Coffee wouldn’t do the man any good, but tea might help. With that in progress he made his way over to the living room where Philip was watching A Land Before Timewith rapid attention, obviously captivated by the story.

He sat down next to Philip and smiled when the boy looked at him: “Hi there, Philip. Do you remember me? I’m Thomas, we met at your Papa’s office a while ago.”

Philip lit up: “Mr. Thomas!” then he got confused, “What are you doing here? Papa says you aren’t not-work friends, he says you wouldn’t come.”

Thomas tried to ignore the fact that Philip had apparently asked if he would be coming and Alex had decided to describe them as friends – work friends but still – to his son, no matter how much it made him happy inside.

“Well, kiddo, your Papa changed his mind, because today we’re going to get you a costume,” he told Philip, “I heard you’re going as a dino and I wanted to know more about them. Since you explained so well last time your Papa let me tag along, so you could explain more.”

“Really?” the boy’s eyes were like saucers and stars were dancing in them as he started to tell Thomas everything about the cool dino costume he was going to get.

He listened closely, nodding at all the good points and asking questions the kid seemed capable of answering.

When he heard noises of someone getting out of the shower upstairs, he led the kid to the door as he talked, getting his shoes on before Alex came downstairs.

Alex looked much better when he returned downstairs. His hair was still up in a bun, but it wasn’t as messy or greasy, just wet. His clothes were more comfort than fashion, but he didn’t look like a dumpster fire anymore and the bags under his eyes seemed to hold less weight.

Philip noticed his Papa, because he turned to him and rambled: “Papa, Mr. Thomas is coming with us to learn more about dinos and it’s going to be so much fun and he promised to buy me hot chocolate and he agrees that purple is a good dino color.”

“That’s nice, Pip,” Alex smiled tiredly, scooping the boy up into his arms and pressing a kiss to his cheek, before getting their coats.

Thomas held out his hand as they stepped outside and Alex shot him a confused look. He explained: “I’m driving, go sit with Philip in the back.”

Alex wordlessly handed him the keys and got in the backseat without any complains as he gave him the name and location of the costume store he’d wanted to visit.

While they drove Thomas watched how Alex just smiled at his rambling son. It was strange how patient and silent the man could be for his kid’s benefit, but Thomas could clearly see the same focus Alex gave all the tasks he seemed to care about.

At the store it seemed to be going fine, until Philip stepped out in a particularly shitty costume that looked more like a turtle than a dinosaur

Alex choked up, Thomas felt it beside him and with one glance it was confirmed when Alex nodded and gasped: “I’m gonna go for a sec.”

“Alright, Alex, go,” Thomas assured him, not looking to see him walk away.

Philip looked confused and asked: “What’s wrong with Papa?”

“Nothing to worry about buddy,” Thomas smiled, “He’s just having a bit of a rough day today and he needed to step away for a moment.”

The boy thought it over, then softly asked: “Is it like the other sad days? When one of my Aunties or Uncles come to pick me up and we have a sleep over?”

It seemed the kid was as smart as Alex had bragged and Thomas was surprised how open Alex was with the kid, though it seemed to be working.

“Yeah, buddy, kind of like the other sad days, but today your Papa is trying to turn his sad day into a happy day, so he’s trying to do that right now,” Thomas told him, “How about we go try on the purple dino costume? Purple is better than green anyway.”

Philip perked up at the suggestion and when Alex came back a little while later, he seemed a bit more put together and managed a real and big smile at Philip’s costume. They got the costume and Philip refused to take it off.

“Hey, Pip, do you want to go show Daddy your costume?” Alex asked him as they walked out of the store, the uncertainty weirdly tinting his voice.

The boy thought about it, then said: “Mr. Thomas says you’re trying to turn a sad day into a happy day, but you always seem sad when we go to show Daddy things.”

Alex was taken off guard by the reply, but squatted down to Philip’s level as he said: “Pip, going to show Daddy things might be sad, but it’s important to me that he gets to see you grow up. If you don’t want to go that’s okay, we won’t, but you don’t have to say no for me.”

It seemed Philip got it, because he asked: “Can we get flowers for Daddy? I liked leaving him flowers, it made his special place more special.”

“Of course we can get Daddy flowers, Pip,” Alex’s voice was thick with emotion and Thomas took the lead when walking to the flower shop.

Philip took extra care in picking out the flowers. He spotted dwarf sunflowers and asked: “Papa, you said Daddy’s favorite color was yellow, right? And that he was your sunshine.”

“Yeah, I sure did, Pip,” Alex answered, spotting the sunflowers Philip was looking at.

“Can we get these for him?” Philip asked, pointing them out.

“Yes, he would love those,” Alex said, picking up the flowers and paying for them.

They left the store and now the hard part came. Thomas was still driving, he hadn’t trustedAlex’s mental state before and he certainly wasn’t now, but he had to ask which cemetery to go to. Luckily, it seemed Alex had remembered as well and he just whispered: “Calvary cemetery,” as they got into the car.

The drive was quiet and Thomas wasn’t sure if he would be welcome to come with them, but when they got out of the car, Alex grabbed his hand, slightly shaking and pulled him along. So, Thomas followed as they walked through the rows.

Philip obviously already knew the way and he skipped out ahead of them the way only a kid who didn’t fully realize what this meant could. He stopped before a simple grave that read:

.

Lt. Col.

John Laurens-Hamilton

1988-2017

Loving father and doting husband

Noble soldier that protected his men till the end

.

Embedded in the grave there was a picture of a young man with long curly hair pulled into a ponytail. He was smiling into the camera, freckles splattered on his face like the milky way as he looked at the person behind the camera fondly. He was dressed in a basic military uniform and in the background there was a dusty military base visible.

Alex fell to his knees in front of the grave and greeted it: “Hi, Jacky, how have you been? Good, I hope. I’m going to have words with God if I come there and I hear they’ve been treating you like crap.”

He let out a shaky sigh, then went on: “I wanted to come wish you a happy birthday. They didn’t have the candy you liked at the store, but I’ve always told you licorice is disgusting so we got little chocolate bars for the trick-or-treaters instead.”

Silent tears streamed down his face: “I brought Pip with me, he’s going as a dinosaur this year and he wanted to show you his costume.”

Philip was standing next to his Papa, looking at the grave. When Alex said that he spoke up, this was obviously not the first time: “Hi Daddy, look at my costume,” he told the grave happily, “It gots spikes and it’s purple. Papa doesn’t like purple that much, but Mr. Thomas does, he helped me pick out my costume. I’m gonna be the bestest dino ever.”

Thomas hadn’t expected his name, so he looked up shocked from where he was keeping his distance. It was strange to be introduced to a dead man by his kid.

He hoped Alex wouldn’t mind that Philip talked about his rival to his late husband, though they weren’t really rivals anymore. They still argued, but there was a more familiar atmosphere around them.

It was nice, different, but nice.

Meanwhile Philip had been rambling on about school and what the other kids were dressing up as, before he remembered the flowers. He held them up and said: “We got you flowers. They are sunflowers and they’re yellow. Papa says you like yellow and they look fun, like little suns. Do you think that’s where they got their name?”

“I think so, buddy,” Alex answered for John with a strained voice.

“That’s cool,” Philip said, before going on, “I’m gonna put them on your special place. Auntie Eliza says this is kind of like your home, but it looks boring and yellow is a good color to help you be less boring. My room is yellow and it’s the bestest room there is. Papa allowed me to paint on one of my walls and I painted some dinos there.”

Throughout Philip’s conversation with John, Alex had pulled the little boy onto his lap and hugged him tightly.

When the boy was out of things to tell John, he started to squirm slightly, but it didn’t really look like Alex was willing to leave or let go. So Thomas stepped in.

He put his hand on Alex’s shoulder startling him slightly and softly said: “Here, I’ll walk around with Philip. Don’t worry, just take your time.”

Alex nodded gratefully and let Philip go, Thomas took his hand and asked: “Want to play a game with me, Philip?”

“Yeah!” Philip clapped in his hands.

“We’re going try to find all the stones with a little cross on it, okay?” Thomas felt slightly bad that he was turning other people’s final resting places into a game with a kid, but with his view of what death was like, he didn’t think they’d mind.

They had found around twenty-onegraves with a cross on it when Thomas noticed Alex get up. He steered Philip back to John’s grave while they looked and when they got back to the grave Alex smiled watery at Philip and asked: “What do you think of hot chocolate, Pip?”

Philip bounced excitedly and asked: “Is there whipped cream? Uncle Herc gave me hot chocolate with whipped cream and it was the yummiest.”

“We can ask,” Alex replied, taking his kid’s hand.

The drive to the small cafe started silent, but then Philip asked Thomas what sort of flowers he liked. Thomas told him cornflowers were his favorite and after that the two talked about flowers, while Alex stared out of the window.

It was still strange to see Alex without a fire burning in his eyes and Thomas remembered how Angelica had told him that Philip had probably saved his life. It was disturbing how accurate it seemed and Thomas wanted to shake the man until he was back to office Alex, but he knew that wasn’t what he needed right now and he knew he would have hated it.

Today reminded him that their grief was different. Alex’s was younger and unexpected. When he’d married Martha, he knew they would have limited time. She was not ripped from him, just softly eased out of his arms.

The loss still hurt, God, it hurt so much and sometimes he wanted to curl up into a ball and yank all of his hair out in the hope the numbness and pain just went away.

But he got used to it.

Martha was someone he could never forget. She’d always be there in his heart, guiding him to be a better man and keep going. It had taken a long while for him to get there, for him to see her hand on his shoulder wasn’t holding him in place, but pushing him forwards.

She’d always told him, he would do great things and he’d better keep a picture of her with him so that she could see it. And he would try to do that.

But Alex didn’t have that.

Alex had a man who had promised him a future together, who had told him forever ‘till the end, who gave him a family and said they would raise their child together. A man who was taken without warning.

Thomas couldn't imagine, but that wasn’t the point. He couldn't imagine the loss, but he could help soothe it by being there right now, because Alex couldn't use anyone pitying him today, couldn't use having to worry about Philip. So Thomas did what he couldn't.

In the cafe he got excited with Philip over the triple chocolate hot chocolate they had and ordered tea for him and Alex. He pointed out the painting they had on the wall and played I Spy, leaving Alex to sip his tea absentmindedly.

When Philip had a sufficient chocolate mustache and was falling asleep in his chair after the day, they left. The drive silent with Philip’s dozing.

At the house Thomas asked: “Do you want me to cook or are you good for now?”

Alex hesitated, then said: “I always make Hoppin’ Johns on his birthday and stuff, it’s a long story, but uhm- if you- I’d like you to stay. For dinner. Only if you want to of course.”

Thomas hadn’t expected the invitation, but accepted after a beat: “Well, I won’t say no to free food and Philip did promise to show me some of his drawings.”

“Who am I to deny you a Philip Hamilton Art Tour,” Alex smiled and let him into the house, informing Philip of the evening plans, which of course caused the boy to perk up again and drag Thomas along with him, while Alex retreated to the kitchen.

Alex sat down at the kitchen bar and just took a moment to sit and breathe.

This day had gotten easier throughout the years, but he could clearly remember how that first time he’d almost ignored baby Philip’s cries just because he didn’t want to get out of bed. God, he’d felt so guilty. John had always wanted a family, Alex too, but John dreamed of being a dad and he’d almost ruined that.

Back then he’d sworn to himself that Philip would never fall victim to his own grief ever again, so when he found himself spiraling today, he did what he found hardest: he asked for help.

He hadn’t known exactly what he was doing until Thomas picked up. It hadn’t been a conscious decision, but he was glad he had. The man seemed to know exactly when to step in, what he couldn't handle and what he needed him to do.

And Pip liked him.

If you’d asked him about a month ago if he’d be okay with Thomas watching Pip and Pip being excited about it, he would have thrown a fit, but Thomas was surprisingly good with Pip. He seemed to listen and engage, never talk down.

It was weird to see, but Alex didn’t mind that much. His reaction to everything had been a breath of fresh air after all the worrying his friends always seemed to do.

Don’t get him wrong, he loved his friends and they had dragged him through his darkest times, but they couldn't seem to get that he was doing fine. It was just some days that the grief creeped in and dragged him down, but that didn’t mean he would go back to zero immediately.

Sometimes their worrying made him feel like he was a bad parent and he had been a slightly bad parent when John had just died, but he had tried and he wanted to prove that he would die for his son, his pride and joy.

He knew it was stupid that he felt like that, that he felt the need to show them that they didn’t have to check up on him and take Philip for a few days when it got too bad, but he had always struggled with getting validation, so he cut himself some slack.

Looking up he saw the clock. Half an hour had already passed of him just sitting there and he should really start cooking.

Slowly he set out all the ingredients for the Hoppin’ Johns. He tried not to tear up too much as he cooked, though he felt justified in blaming some of the tears on the onions.

When he was done, he set the table, feeling weird that there were three plates. Usually his friends came together and it rarely happened that there were three people. It felt wrong on some level, but also nice. Alex preferred not to think about it as he called them for dinner.

Pip came bounding down the stairs, pulling Thomas along as he yelled: “Papa, Papa, I showed Mr. Thomas my dino drawings on the wall and the wall with my other drawings and he says they’re very good and I wanna be an artist some day and Mr. Thomas says I probably could, isn’t that cool!”

Alex smiled: “That’s very cool, Pip. Now come here and eat your dinner.”

“Yes, Papa,” Pip said, climbing onto his chair and sitting down. He saw the food and said: “This is Daddy’s food, right Papa? Are you gonna say the words?”

“Yeah, Pip, it’s Daddy’s food,” Alex confirmed.

Thomas shot him a questioning look and Alex explained: “We eat this on days special to John, his family was religious. He wasn’t that much, but he liked the idea of Heaven, so we say grace for Daddy’s food.”

Ah, Thomas thought, that made sense. Martha hadn’t been religious at all, but she had a great love for Christmas, so Thomas dutifully decorated the house each year, no matter what.

Alex held out his hands and Pip grabbed one and also held out his hand, Thomas grabbed them both, following their example and bowed his head.

“I thank you, Lord, for the food on our table,” Alex began saying grace, “Today we eat this food with gratefulness that you, up in the Heavens, are watching over our sweet departed John. May he be happy in your presence and well taken care of until we can join him. Amen.”

“Amen,” Philip echoed, so Thomas did as well, before they started eating.

The food was good and Thomas made sure to complement Alex on his cooking. The man blushed and said: “I picked it up over the years. There are only so many times you can eat instant noodles, before you try to learn.”

Thomas laughed at that and agreed, before Philip asked what instant noodles were and the conversation moved on.

When dinner was done, it was already quite late. Alex got up and said: “Come on, Pip. Plate to the kitchen and then we’re getting ready for bed. You have school tomorrow.”

They brought their dishes to the kitchen and Thomas offered to clean up while Alex got Philip into bed. Alex protested and Thomas said: “It’s not charity, Alex. It’s as a thank you for the food, it was delicious and my Southern hospitality wouldn’t want to seem ungrateful.”

Alex eyed him suspiciously, but tiredness just won out and he nodded, before leading Philip out of the kitchen despite his sleepy whining that he wasn’t tired.

It still baffled Thomas how soft Alex got with Philip, how all his burning passion seemed to turn into a hearth of warmth to keep Philip safe from the cold. Thomas was sure that if Alex had to sacrifice everything in his life just to make Philip smile, he would.

After half an hour the kitchen looked clean and Alex came down the stairs, saying: “He must have been really tired, he’s already asleep,” there was a beat of silence, “Do you want coffee? Or maybe wine after this day.”

Thomas smirked: “I don’t think wine is a good idea or too much caffeine, but I wouldn’t mind some tea though.”

“Good. It was mostly a joke anyway – the wine part – I need to be up early tomorrow again to catch up on all the work I’ve ignored today,” Alex replied, starting the kettle, “Maybe tea is a good idea, I’ll join you.”

“Alex, it’s Sunday, what work could you have been doing?” he asked, baffled.

The other shrugged: “I work on my financial plan for the company and Washington isn’t the best with tech, so I go through his inbox to check if everything send correctly or if he missed anything accidentally. And I write essays for this blog I run, though that’s not really something I have to do per se.”

“Damn, you’re going to burn yourself out if you keep going like that,” Thomas told him, “And does Washington know you’re doing that?”

Alex shrugged: “I think he’s on to me, but he hasn’t confronted me yet, so he either hasn’t noticed or it’s helping and he doesn’t want to admit it.”

Thomas made a ‘that’s fair’-face, before commenting: “You and Washington are close, if he allows you to do stuff like that.”

“I suppose,” Alex pouring the hot water in their cups, “He’s kinda the one who was a solid in my life ever since I got to the States. Me and John both served under him in the military.”

“You were military?” Thomas asked, surprised.

“Yeah, didn’t last long though,” Alex answered, “I joined at seventeen, came out as trans two years later and quit, not the best environment. The only good thing in that whole institution were John and Washington.”

“I didn’t know,” Thomas said, “That explains the Grandpa George thing.”

Alex blushed at that and muttered: “I didn’t start that, it’s fucking embarrassing. Angelica taught it to Pip and Washington went with it because he’s a little shit and I can’t really say anything, because he and his wife are the only grandparents he has.”

“John’s parents are gone?” Thomas asked.

“Nah, but they were homophobic transphobic bigoted assholes, so they’re as good as out of the picture,” Alex told him, “Both our sides were equally empty at the wedding, though some of his siblings managed to sneak out.”

“What was your wedding like?” Thomas asked, they had moved to sit at the kitchen bar while they talked and Alex lit up at the question.

“It was one of the best daysof my life. We both had decided on white suits, I looked like and idiot, but John was beautiful,” Alex told him, “John wanted to walk down the isle real bad and Washington gave him away, he cried. Never admitted it to anyone, but he cried. I did too though, so I can’t really judge.”

Alex took a sip, then went on: “We convinced Herc to be our flower girl, it was hilarious. And the Schuyler sisters rapped as a bridesmaid speech, it was absolutely priceless. Did you know Eliza can beat box?”

“No,” Thomas chuckled.

“Me neither, but she can and it’s so weird. She had like this blue dress Herc made, looking like a proper lady and then she beat boxed while Angie and Peggy rapped about how me and John were both stupid for not confessing for three years,” Alex laughed.

“You did confess for three whole years?” Thomas asked with disbelief.

He tried to ignore how his own crush on Alex had been festering for the past two years, ever since he’d met him. A crush he had pushed down and instead argued with the man every time as if he were a school boy, but he had his reasons, he told himself.

“Yeah, we were great at dancing around each other,” Alex smiled, “Both convinced that him using every phone call while away on duty to call me was super platonic. And then in college we roomed together, shoving our beds together, platonically of course.”

Thomas laughed at that, before asking: “How did you get together if you were both that dense?”

Alex was blushing like an idiot, Thomas noted, and he hadn’t answered Thomas’s question. Glee lit up in his eyes as he asked: “Okay, how dumb was it? It must be dumb if you’re that embarrassed about it.”

“We accidentally lockedourselvesinacloset,” he confessed quickly as if saying it faster made it disappear.

“How the fuck do you do that?” Thomas wheezed.

“It was a stupid closet anyway,” Alex huffed, crossing his arms and looking away, “It was a supply closet and we were cleaning it and we had set the brooms outside and when I closed the door to get behind it one of them fell and locked us in.”

“That’s amazing,” Thomas said.

Alex gave up his huffy manner and grinned as he agreed: “In hindsight it was hilarious, yeah. God, it was so stupid, John was so stupid.”

It was quiet for a moment, Alex was lost in thought and Thomas just reveling in the calm.

“What was he like? John, I mean,” Thomas asked softly.

Alex raised a brow as he looked at him, but apparently saw nothing off putting in them, because he answered: “John was the stupidest, bravest and kindest person I know. He and Pip are so alike that it hurts sometime.”

He sighed deeply, then said: “He was rash, always rushing into danger first when in the military, last one out too.”

The last part sounded bitter and Thomas couldn't blame him.

“John loved to draw as well,” Alex told him, “I still have all his sketchbooks and one of the rooms in the house is an atelier. At first I couldn't bring myself to change it, but now- well, maybe Pip will use it someday.”

“But he wanted to be a nurse, drawing was just a hobby,” Alex wenton, “John loved helping people. Whenever someone in ourfriend group was sick, he would be at their door with soup and meds in no time. Whenever I had my period he would cuddle with me and watch shitty movies and bring me chocolate, it was so sweet.”

“He sounds like a catch,” Thomas said.

“He really was,” Alex chuckled, voice slightly breaking. It was nice to tell Thomas about John, he hadn’t known him. Everyone already knew John, had their own stories with him and their own interpretations of him. They would always color Alex’s John with their own versions of him, but Thomas couldn't do that. It was refreshing.

They talked for a little while, before Alex was drooping in his seat, the day had been emotionally exhaustive.

“I’m gonna go home and you should go to bed, Alex,” Thomas said after watching Alex almost fall out of his chair a few times.

“You know, for once I’m not even going to bother arguing with you,” Alex replied, getting out of his chair to see Thomas out.

Before he could leave, a small voice stopped: “Thomas, I, uhm- I wanted to- just, uhm, you know, thank you.”

Thomas turned back, trying to keep the surprise off his face as hesmiled: “No problem. Goodnight, Alex.”

“Uh, yeah, goodnight, Thomas.”

The big shift he had expected a month ago happened that Monday, though big wasn’t the right word necessarily. It was subtle for anyone who didn’t know any better. The arguments turned into banter and the screaming matches about company protocol turned into tentative collaboration.

No one who hadn’t known before how much they yelled and argued would call the changes big, but there was something that made it special.

Two months ago everyone would call them rivals – enemies if they wanted to be dramatic – with a mutual hate that permeated the work floor. But now there was a soft friendship starting between them that grew through the weeks.

~~~~

A/N:

This is not a guide on how to deal with grief, for the love of god don’t take advise from fics. I have tried my best to make it not shit and somewhat accurate, but I can promise nothing.

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales Treasure of the Golden Sun: Three Ducks of the Condor or Now with More Racism!

Hello all you happy people! And welcome back to my look at Ducktales: Treasure of the Golden Suns!, the pilot episodes that started it all. This look was one of my patreon stretch goals. To explain them in case some of you aren’t familiar with patreon it’s essentially like a kickstarter stretch goal: every milestone I reach in my monthly earnings means a crop of reviews for you guys, with this being 10 and my review of the movie, and the goofy movies in two weeks and September respectively, being the 15 dollar one. So if you want reviews of the OTHER Ducktales mini series Time Is Money and Super DuckTales, then hop on aboard and help me reach my 20 dollar goal so I can keep making these reviews for a living and give you all more. Said goal also includes a Darkwing Duck review eveyr month AND a review of teh Danny Phantom special The ULtimate Enemy so hop on board HERE AT MY PATREON.  Patrons also get exclusive reviews, access to my discord server (Though if anyone would be more intrersted in me making that public let me know), and to pick a short each time I do a birthday special for a character from Looney Tunes, Disney and Beyond. And next month is my boy Donald’s so since you all already sat out goofy NOW is the time. 

So now my very necessary plug is out of the way, i’m very poor, we can get to the review proper:

When last we left off Scrooge and the Boys went on their first proper adventure together, heading to Central America to follow the map from the first episode and running into Dr.Claw  El Capitan and his new best buddy Glomgold. Mild racisim, moonsoons and much better pacing ensued. 

So join me under the cut as my boy Donald returns, some iconic characters are introduced in Webby, Launchpad and Beakly, though this series only made one of them iconic to be fair, and we get some more mild racisim because fuck my life. Onward to the cut! 

So yeah as I’ve mentioned a few times now this episode had a content warning.. which was fair as there is some pretty cringy stuff in here but it had the side effect of me holding my breath until the racisim came up and whapped me in the face. So i’m keeping that tension up for you guys so I don’t have to suffer alone. 

We open at the Mansion. Scrooge is trying to find a governess for the boys, but they keep scaring off all the clients because they don’t like the idea. And for once.. i’m on Scrooge’s side here. Yes I know there’s a sterotype of rich people hiring a nanny to not have to parent. and it’s sadly often true and it’d SEEM like Scrooge is doing that.. but really he just wants the boys to be safe. He’s fully grown to care for them and just wants someone cheap and responsible to look after them while he’s busy and clearly still makes time for them. As someone who is a former nanny, albeit for someone working class, I get that as much as you WANT to spend every moment with your kid you often can’t. I say all this because SO MANY kids movies and shows villianize parents for not spending time with their kid when their clearly just working to support them. There are nuanced exceptions to this and refreshingly Craig of the Creek has outright avoided this: JP’s mom is gone almost all the time due to working as an airline pilot, but while he clearly misses her he never resents her or guilts her over it, he understands sh’es supporting him and goes out of his way to make sure his friends can meet her. It’s really swee.t And while again I get it, this guys a billionare, most examples aren’t, Scrooge still really CAN’T stop working: He has more money than god and like most bilionares REALLY should give most of it to charity or to help with programs instead of hoarding it in a massive bin.. but he’s also got tons of companies, factories, investments... people COUNTING on him to make sure these are working correctly and keep their jobs. So yeah i’ts nice that the show isn’t demonizing scrooge for this or dosen’t even consider it: he’s getting help beacuse he needs it, that’s what’s important. 

So while the boys widdle down the nannies, Scrooge talks to a renowned coin collector. He does show off his collection to the guy, but his main goal is naturally to show him the coin from last time. Turns out that naturally for a five part episode the treasure they lost last time was just a fraction of the real thing and the real titular treasure is a mythical horde even Scrooge, who normally has proved something out of myth is very real 5 times before breakfast, didn’t think existed. 

Something I do love about this five parter is how every treasure hunt has ended up being important each piece of the puzzle leading to the next like any good treasure hunt. As for where this one leads the collector HAS heard of only one other coin like it, up in the Andes Mountains in a mysterious fortress whose mountain habitat and being a fortress makes it hard to get to and the owner is apparently a real piece of work.. but Scrooge isn’t afraid of a little hard work and is ready to go after it.. he just has to find a Nanny first. 

And he does as there’s only one left: Mrs. Beakley, who we FINALLY meet after two episodes. Yeah for some weird reasont his episode choose to cram the rest of the major main and supporting cast into one episode.. it still works, they all still get great introductions it’s just weird to me when you have five episodes to not say introduce Launchpad last time. 

But regardless as I said it’s a good intro.. despite the boys wilding a lasso and a snake.

 Beakly is unphased and even dosen’t remotely fall for them trying to say she got the wrong name. And while Scrooge is a little impressed, he’s even more when she states she’ll work for free... with one condition: Free room and board for her and her grandaughter, Webby, who has been there the whole time and looking cute as a button. Scrooge is unsure but one minute of Webby being adorable later and he’s agreed. She can’t eat much right? He also hopes she’ll help the boys not be douchebags, unaware that their inherent poorly written sexisim means that was never going to work. And why yes I will call it out eveyr time it happens because it happens every time they have an episode together and only gets worse. 

He goes to Gyro for help and Classic Gyro.. is utterly delightful. While I clearly have issues with Classic Scrooge, whose a greedy poorly aged asshat and the boys, who are sterotypes of male children, Gyro? He’s nice, friendlya nd eccentric, using a delightfully wakcky pogo hat thing to think and takes only a mintue to figure out how to solve a seemingly unsolvable problem and only needs a few hours to build his cool looking bird ship, using bird legs to offset the hard to sort out landing conditions. But since it’s a fancy bitch, it needs a pilot and i’m sure we all know where this is going...but since Carol Danver sis busy he has to go with Launchpad. 

Launchpad’s intro is great, cheerful as he does a job testing a plane and naturally crashes it, and when thought dead walks out seconds later unharmed and jolly as ever. Scrooge is naturally terrified of the prospect of flying with him but dosen’t really have another choice “I hope my insurance is paid up.” Scrooge it’s you.. of course it isn't. 

So with that our hero bids a farewell to the boys and ends up unteitonally coming off MASSIVELY unlikeable. No really he leaves them behind for their saftey despite needing help... and then upon finding out Donald is going to be on leave soon in the andes, and just assumes that YOU KNOW, he’d LIKE to go on a dangerous exausting adventure instead of actually get some rest after working in the goddamn navy and STILL dosen’t take the kids along despite having a very tearjerking farewell IN FRONT OF HIM that happened at most a month ago. Granted i’m suprised Donald is getting leave this soon.. but since I genuinely like to look into this sort of thing and the last time I didn’t I was correctly reminded Gulliver’s Travels was a satire.. and found out someone HAD actually watched the Jack Black movie. I only vaugely remember a trailer.. I thinkn it was a trailer? Maybe it was the middle part of a juinor novelzation where htey have all the photos? I really don’t know. I know almost every pokemon on sight but not where I saw pictures of a forgetable jack black movie, what a shock. 

So long story short I DID google it. Here’s what I got

So given clealry more time has passed than we’ve seen on screen, enough time COULD have passed for Donald’s three day pass to kick in. So credit to the crew for actually thinking that out. They still get all the blame though for not only not seeing how bad not taking the kids to see the uncle whose like a father to them a month after he left when he CLEARLY can is bad, but how worse it is that the first break donald gets ina  month.. is spent helping scrooge against his will on a life or death treasure hunt. 

And I get WHY they wanted to try out having Donald on an adventure: he was in most of the carl barks material.... but I also dont’ get it as Launchpad was deisgned entirely to fill in for Donald when needed, we’re only three episodes into the series and this gives the wrong impression Donald will guest star a lot more. In practice while he still did get a meaty 8 episodes on the show including this one, 2 of which were cameos and the pilot only dosne’t count because of the exnteded slapstick sequence, and dosen’t appear at all after season 1, likely because Fenton’s introduction made him reduntant as he was an even more blatant Donald stand-in. It just feels weird to shove him into the pilot movie when we should be focusing on our main cast, epsecially with so many getting intorduced this episode. It woudl’ve made more sense for Gyro to be the third man instead and it woud’ve elmaited Scrooge’s uttelry horrible actions here of depriving his nephews of their surrogate father. 

So Uncle Dickstick leaves with Launchpad to go abduct donald.... and tha’ts not me being funny, that’s what actually happens. Donald is singing out on leave.. with his superior... weirdly doing paper work outside on the flight deck. 

And is angry at Donald because of him taking pictures and stuff and threatens him if he’s not back exactly in time... because look he’s on a boat with a bunch of sweaty men but as the most superior officer he can’t enjoy that so he has to get off SOMEHOW and ruining donald’s life just happens ot be a thing for him. 

So yeah Scrooge straight up naps Donald via claw and Donald is angry, wondering, as you’d expect “What’s the big idea”.. and once Scrooge clairfies he did it.. still asks that because what the fuck. And the episode treats this as comical, as it does Launchpad not understanding Donald.. and don’t get me wrong you CAN make a good “I can’t understand Donald Duck” joke, the 2017 series made PLENTY. But said series also spoiled me as they did it with far more effort, while also still showing just how much it would suck to have everyone around you struggle to hear what you say and never listen to you. They actually cared abotu Donald’s well being where as this one thinks “Gee you knwo what would go great iwth a hard month’s naval work? MORE WORK HELPING YOUR UNCLE GET RICHER FOR NO PERSONAL BENIFIT AFTER HE KIDNAPS YOU”. 

So our heroes.. and scrooge, head to Andes and find the temple and it’s here “Sigh” we met our antagonist. A Conquestador Douche who DOES have a name and it is on the wiki.. but is so generic and unlikeble I’m just going to keep calling him conquestador douche, whose introduced waving his sun coin around while the natives all bow to him because of the coin.

Welcome to the racisim! Admitely it’s not as bad as Treasure of the Lost Lamp, that’s a high bar to clear, but ti’s still not great to have the racist cliche of “character conquers a civilization because of they belivie he’s a messenger for their “silly” god”. And the saddest part is not that I didn’t notice this trope and how bad it was as a kid watching shows like this... but that as an ADULT about 4 years ago when I watched this episode how racist it and this trope in general was didn’t register to me at all. That.. really bothers me that it took me this long to pick up on things like this and i’m sorry for it. 

That’s honestly WHY we need these warnings and WHY i’m so hard on this racisim: it wasn’t necessary, it could’ve been removed and you clearly just didn’t care or didn’t realize it was racist. And even acceptable for the time dosen’t work for anymore: I learned recently that the creators of Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, both white, hired black writers..and actually LISTENED, looking to them for personal stories and to check them if one of the white staff wrote something that wasn’t true to the black experience. I know that sounds like the bare minimum but this was the early 90′s, that kind of thinking wasn’t hte norm like it is in most writer’s rooms now.. and sadly not ALL writer’s rooms. Not only that but just today I ran into a MST3K skit that lampooned this kind of bullshit from not long after this episode. People clearly knew better, the writers of this episode just didn’t’t care

 So yeah, I get this was a kids show in the 80′s, I get the writing staff being almost all white.. but they still coudl’ve avoided cliche sterotypes and done something diffrent. It was was still wiithin white people like myselves power to actually think about something other htan themselves and we did not. So i’m never going to stop holding my own people accountable for just how BADLY we’ve fucked up in ways great and small because it still hasn’t stopped , likely never will so I won’t. 

But yeah.... the tribe here are portrayed as ignorant, mindless dumbasses who blindly follow tradition and a clearly corrupt leader. It’s patronizingly stupid to assume just because a belief system is diffrent than yours a person will belieive anything. Religion CAN make people act stupid, the fact many people are homophobic simply because the bible, a centuries old document written and distrbuted by humans that could of been altered by people with a clear homophobic agenda, says they should be. But there’s the very clear very gross implication here that any god but the christian god is invalid and simplifies wonderful and well thought out myths and beliviefs from various cultures into “well they belivie in da sun god because of the shiny coin”. It’s gross, i’m glad it’s stopped and it’s VERY telling that the closest Ducktales 2017 came to this was the most dangerous game night which while a tad cringe inducing at least showed the tribe it used was clever, disposed the person they mistook for a god after it was clear he wasn’t one , and were wholly sympathetic. 

Naturally Conquistadouche orders the tribe to attack Scrooge and it works briefly , though Scrogoe prepares to take on the ENTIRE villiage.. and given this is Scrooge and on this blog we’ve seen him take on an entire town before, and that was a more inexpericed less bastardly scrooge yeah their fucked, and only escape death because the coin falls out of scrooge’s coat when he tries to help donald who naturally injures himself trying to help. 

And since as per white dumbass racist logic, the villiagers thought Conquistadipshit was a messenger of the gods because of his coin, they think the same of Scrooge, this causes them to stop and bow instead and protect scrooge when Conquistadumbass tries to attack our heroes. Their given a room for the night naturally. 

Conquistadick demands they give him the coin and leave, but Scrooge has none of that: he has no reason to leave and has all the leverage so he instead demands to know wha’ts going on. 

Turns out Conquisineart is the decdendant of one of the crew from the ship Scrooge found: their captain rain off with it, leaving two of his men behind, though both had the map to the rest of the treasure and split it: one left for the Arctic, the other stayed and did the whole racist god bit. And somehow despite all the time passing Conquistadoodoohead still has his half and Scrooge aranges a trade for the coin. And why yes their is the obvious problem of “what if Conquistascoobydoo say tells them he’s the true god and attacks scrooge like he ends up doing in the climax”. And Scrooge’s plan.. is to have the plane ready and to run to it, despite Launchpad not being a mechanic and saying as much. Instead of you know... stealing the guy’s coin while he’s asleep or something or just having launchpad, whose bigger and stronger and donald whose not bigger but is also stronger hold the guy while Scrooge steals his sun coin, then simply walks to the plane with the map, the coins and all the leverage. at worst the guy tries to do the same scheme without any coins and as the end of the episode shows, that wouldn’t have worked. He was stupid. Oh and the cherry on  top of this shit sundae is scrooge objects to the guys tyranical rule.. but is okay with letting it keep going if he gets his coin and DOnlad, whose there for the deal, never call shim on it. 

We then get a bit of Launchpad being forced off a cliff to ride a giant Condor...

Look this episode is filled with racisit sterotypes, a generic villian and Scrogoe being awful. I’ll take a fun sequence of Launchpad riding a condor, with Donald providing an assit with his camera  by blinding the beast so Launchpad can ride him properly giving them more leverage now Launchpad is popular. And a deadline to fix things by tommorow. 

The next day Launchapd and Donald have defied logic and their own tendency to screw up and fixed the bird, while Scrooge makes the deal.. and naturally it goes EXACTLY how you’d expect and Scrooge runs, though our real heroes get thigns running. 

That’s when the people arrive on condors to persue, a fight insues yoru standard hero stuff.. not bad but given the racist context I can’t really enjoy it like Launchpad flying a condor.. which had some mild racisim in them making him do that as a ritual clearly deisgned to kill him but i’llt ake mild over pretty damn obvious. Eventually douchebag looses his coins, his ctizens abndon him. Happy end. 

So with the map Scrooge decides to do the logical thing.... have launchpad drop him in the middle of the ocean in a raft and steer there

Launchpad takes Donald home in time and his superior is mad he dosen’t give him a proper salute.. even though he CLEARLY just got home and is diisorented from a crash. Launchpad makes a quip and this episode mercifully ends. 

Final Thoughts:

This episode starts out okay.. but quickly goes downhill fast and steep. There are massive bits of racisim, massive leaps in logic, and massive amoutns of scrooge being a dick.. not his WORST in this series but it’s still bad. It’s just not very good. It’s the second worst episode of Ducktales i’ve seen, only held up by my boys Donald and Launchpad. This was miserable.

Next Time on Treasure of the Golden Suns: Our heroes head to the arctic for another offensive episode to rescue scrooge from his own stupidity.  Next Time on this Blog: We return to Green Eggs and Ham and hop on a train as our raging bitchcanoe mother and daughter duo meat our ambigiouslyg ay duo at last. 

See you at the next rainbow.

[writingjoycebyers]

A/N: Heyyy ! I was in the mood for some Jopper heartbreak, based on my own ideas and not on a prompt. I‘d appreciate any constructive feedback. My inbox and dm‘s are open <3 Enjoy!!! xx writingjoycebyers

JOPPER AU - Gave you all the best years of my life - A one shot songfic

idea based on the song „Rock & Roll I gave you the best years of my life“, gif source at the end

Rating: Mature - heartbreak (sorry!),very slightly nsfw, serious case of romantic simping.

I can still remember when I bought my first guitar

Remember walking from the shop to put it proudly in my car

„It‘s so pretty!“, Joyce said, her small hand wandering across the wooden guitar that was securely stored in her lap. Hop was steering the car, carefully eyeing his best friend as she held his new treasure, his baby.

„So what songs are you gonna try first?“, she asked curiously. She knew Hopper had been practicing with some guitars at school for some time already, and she loved the sparkle in his eyes whenever he was playing. The shiny blue, the happiness radiating from his gaze whenever he could fiddle a tune. The light in his eyes and smile had grown to no end when just fifteen minutes ago he had fulfilled his dream of buying his own guitar finally - a graduation gift from his parents, they had given him the money to go and choose the instrument of his dreams. „You never can tell.“, he said. „Chuck Berry.“

Hopper smiled over at her for a second before putting his eyes back on the road. „Dunno, there‘s so much great music. Maybe even write a song myself?“, he said with a proud smirk, eyeing the dark brown six string. Joyce chuckled, he looked at the guitar as if he was in love, as if the guitar was a very pretty girl. And yeah, he probably was in love with it, with music. Joyce found his passion beautiful as they drove through the Indiana summer afternoon, the car‘s windows down and freedom lurking around the corner, graduation just a few days away. She felt light and free, safe and in place with her best friend by her side. Her best friend - Jim Hopper, who looked at a guitar the way she sometimes wished he‘d look at her. She turned the radio up and held the guitar tight as Hopper had to stop at a traffic light on their way home. She could not wait to hear him play.

___________

And my family listened fifty times to my two song repertoire

I told my Mom her only son was gonna be a star

A week before graduation Joyce was at the Hopper‘s for dinner. It was past nine already and they were all out in the Hopper‘s large backyard - her, Jim and his parents. Dinner was long eaten and the sun had gone down when Joyce sat on a garden bench next to Elaine, Jim‘s mother. She felt so at home with them, sometimes even more at home than at her own place, with her mother barely there, chasing her lovers around the state, and her father having left a few years ago, to start a new family and leaving his first born daughter behind in Hawkins, Indiana. Joyce had grown into the Hopper household without anyone actively noticing, being around a few times a week for homework, dinner or just to hang out with Jim after school.

Elaine squeezed Joyce‘s hand tightly as Jim played a tune on his guitar in the dark of the garden, the warm summer night around their bodies as Jim‘s dad went inside to get another beer. Hop's mother held Joyce‘s hand even tighter in a moment she saw Jim giving Joyce a smile whilst playing. The blonde woman leaned over to Joyce and whispered into her ear, making Joyce Horowitz, tough as she normally was, blush like crazy.

„You two would make such a sweet couple. I say it again and again.“

Joyce looked at Elaine next to her with her dark, deep eyes, giving her an insecure smile.

„He talks about you all the time“, she added, shrugging her shoulders as Joyce giggled sheepishly. There was some truth in the elder woman‘s words, and although Joyce and her had had some heart to heart talks in the past, they were just crossing a new line. Neither Hop nor Joyce had actively confessed any feelings, but Joyce knew the tingling feeling in her gut became harder to ignore with every hug, with every funny car ride, with every hang out at Lover‘s Lake. She just had not thought it was that obvious, especially not to Hopper‘s mother.

Later that night, Jim‘s parents had long gone to bed, the two friends ended up on that bench, the guitar on the bench on Jim‘s left, his all time best friend close to him on his right. They talked about music, dreams and the future, as suddenly her head dropped down on his shoulder, and his strong arm found his way around her shoulders a few minutes later. The guitar was forgotten for that night, their minds focussed on each other as they held each other tight long into the night.

_________________

Well I bought all the Beatles records, sounded just like hall

Or Buddy Holly or Chuck Berry's, seventy-eight in all

And I sat by my record player playing every note they played

I watched them all on TV, copied every move they made

The days before graduation, Hopper had nothing left to do for school. Joyce was busy preparing prom night with some other girls, having joined the committee earlier this year, so he did not get to see much of her. He did find something to occupy himself with, drowning in music as he usually did, though he found his mind wandering off more often then not, to the moment on that bench, her small hand in his, her smell, her smile. Every Chuck Berry song would make him day dream about swirling her around on the dancefloor on Prom Night, every Beach Boys song would make him see her in a sundress in the California Sun.

Oh, Rock'n'Roll I gave you all the best years of my life

All the dreamy sunny Sundays, all the moonlit summer nights

California. Frisco. A stupid little dream they had developed together. He‘d write songs and she‘d work in a café or a bookshop, enjoying life for some time before she wanted to enter college, before he‘d maybe get a contract for his own songs, make a record. It was a stupid little dream, but Joyce in a sundress - he could imagine that.

I was so busy in the bed room, writing love songs to you

She was at school preparing Prom, and he was glued to the TV, watching a Beatles concert as he tried some new tunes. Her birthday was coming up too, and he was planning on giving her a special present, on finally spilling the details about his hidden feelings for her. Joyce in a sundress, was that a good title for a song?

But you were changing your direction and I never even knew

That I was always just one step behind you

Joyce was at school, helping with the chairs and tables to set up the gym for Prom as her friend Karen approached her. Joyce was busy unfolding some chairs and the girls chatted for a bit. Karen would bring her boyfriend Ted to Prom, a guy who was in college already, and so the talk of college began. Karen was surprised when she heard Joyce, bookish little Joyce with the good grades, would take a gap year, work or maybe even go to California for some time, enjoy life and not study, like she usually did.

„I always thought college was your number one dream, Joy.“, Karen smiled. „Seems like love changes us all.“, she smirked, hinting on Joyce‘s plan to follow Hopper to the coast for some time.

Without really wanting it, it made Joyce think. Was it his dream or hers? Could they really dream together? Oh, she was probably just confused with prom around the corner. Typical teenage angst - she‘d do the right thing, they‘d always done the right thing - together.

_________________________

On Prom night, Jim Hopper kissed Joyce Horowitz on the mouth as they danced in the crowd, bodies sweaty and limbs exhausted from all the dancing and standing, hands entangled at their sides as the world around the, the students, the lights, the music, went silent. That night, Joyce Horowitz and Jim Hopper turned from friends to lovers, ending their night in his small bed, kissing each other with a curiosity that kept them awake til the early morning hours, When the sun went up, he showed her his song for her, and she laughed, embarassed and touched by his sudden rush of feelings, as she went to grab his small pocket knife.

Ever since then, J.H. & J.H. was carved into the back of his wooden guitar, a sign lasting over time, a sign lasting longer than they would, and longer than Jim Hopper would own his first guitar.

__________________________

Prom week and the summer flew by, and Jim Hopper and Joyce Horowitz from Hawkins, Indiana packed their bags and took his old truck up north to California, up north into a new life. She found it thrilling really, a perfectly romantic adventure as she watched him drive into the sunrise the day they left their hometown, before falling asleep beside him in the passenger seat of his car, feeling safe and sound with no thoughts of the future. There was no work, no college, no money - There was just J.H. & J.H.

Well, sixty-six seemed like the year I was really goin' somewhere

I was living in San Francisco wearing flowers in my hair

Singing songs of kindness so the world would understand

The guys and me thought wer were more than just another band

Five months later Jim had found a decent band to play with, working the nights in a beach bar as the boys covered songs of the most popular artists of the time. He worked the nights, she worked the days in a cafe by the sea, and quickly, J.H. & J.H. began to miss each other terribly. They lived together, sharing a small room in an appartment complex, but they seldomly got to really be together.

Joyce would sometimes go to the bar at night, and she still loved to hear him play and sing, but so did many other women. She preferred the nice and quiet of her room way too often, cuddled up next to the record player, imagening it was him singing her a song in his parents‘ garden in good old Hawkins, Indiana.

Oh, Rock'n'Roll I gave you all the best years of my life

All the crazy, lazy young days, all the magic moony nights

I was so busy on the road, singing love songs to you

But you were changing your direction and you never even knew

That I was always just one step behind you

It was another saturday night when she was occupying a small table in the last corner of the bar, reading a book despite the place being loud and crowded, as suddenly a guy approached the empty chair next to her.

„Good evening, young lady, is that seat taken?“, the tall man asked. He was wearing a leather jacket, and his hair was styled with a lot of gel. „My name is Lonnie, by the way.“

Jim Hopper eyed the scene from the other end of the room, singing some Elvis Presley love song as he saw the spark in his girlfriend‘s eyes be rekindled by the words of another man.

__________________________________

The door fell into it‘s lock with the familar click Joyce had not forgotten in the nine months she had been away from her home in Hawkins, Indiana. „Yeah, this is it.“, she smiled, walking around the empty first floor. Not much had changed, and her mother wasn‘t even there. „Lon?“, she asked, as she did not get a response to her little house tour, realising her boyfriend was still outside carrying their bags from the car to the house.

As he walked in, she smiled at him, and kissed him sweetly. He let the bags drop to the floor and she felt his hands wrap around her waist as their kiss intensified with every breath. She was glad to be home.

„My old room‘s upstairs.“, she whispered. He followed her, and she opened the wooden door to the small space under the roof, a room from another life. A life where she had a picture of Hop and here hanging on the wall next to her door. J.H. & J.H. She swallowed hard as she saw it, quickly placing herself in front of it before Lonnie could see it. Her heart began to race, and it wasn‘t because of the way Lonnie‘s hands were exploring her sides now, as they made their way to the bed.

As they let their bodies drop onto the bed, her pulse had calmed down a little. It was J.H. & L.B. now.

______________________

Five years later, J.H. & L.B. have become J.B. & L.B. - It‘s a rainy sunday afternoon and she‘s in the kitchen, making tea as the TV plays in the living room. She‘s just carrying the cup over to the coffee table when a song comes on on TV, Chuck Berry. You never can tell.

She freezes in the middle of her movements as memory hits her like a wall, his face in front of her inner eye, that sparkling blue of his eyes, his wooden guitar in her lap as the summer breeze caresses her face.

Which songs are you gonna try first? - Dunno, there‘s so much good music. - You never can tell. Chuck Berry.

Where might he be now? Frisco? New York? Paris or London?

She‘s ripped from her thoughts as she hears noises upstairs, a sharp cry, the cry of a baby. Jonathan‘s awake. She rubs her tired eyes and brushes her bangs out of her face as she makes her way upstairs. Lonnie should be home by now.

—————————————

Seventy-one in Soho, when I met Suzanne

I was trying to go it solo with someone else's band

She listened to my problems and she seemed to understand

When she came up to me softly and she took me by the hand

And she followed me to London to a hundred hotel rooms

To a hundred record companies who didn't like my tunes

„What do you mean they did not like it?“, the blonde woman asked Hopper.

„They said it‘s a stupid title.“, he said in defeat, letting his old, worn out guitar drop down on the bed next to his girlfriend.

„Which song did you play?“, she insisted.

„Joy...— I mean, Girl in a sundress.“

„Jim, I don‘t like to say it, but I also don‘t think it‘s a potential hit, it‘s...“,

„I thought it was special.“, he whispered, looking at Suzanne as her hand found his cheek.

_____________________________

And she followed me back to Indiana when I finally sold my old guitar

I'm never gonna be a star.

I'm just a plain old Country boy and that's all I'll ever be.

Jim Hopper returned to Hawkins, Indiana in 1972, married. He sat at Enzo‘s with his wife one night, talking about his new job with the police as outside the window he saw a woman, short, dark hair in a messy bun, a toddler on her arm, and another little boy walking next to her. Joyce in a sundress.

_______________________________

Oh, Rock'n'Roll I gave you all the best years of my life

All the dreamy sunny Sundays, all the moonless summer nights

Oh, I never knew the magic I'm making it with you

I'm getting along with a Country song doing what I wanna do

When I was always just one step behind you.

__________

A/N:

(the gif at the beginning is not mine, i found it on pinterest and this is the source)

Also I found so many versions of the song that I didn't knew which lyrics to use. Here have a good mixture. 😂

Pleeeeease give me feedback and let me know how you like my original fic content. I sometimes struggle with prompts and hope you enjoy this too. Oh and. Reblogs. Comments? I simp for that.

I‘M THIS SORRY FOR THE HEARTBREAK:

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Meant To Be: Part 10

Pairings: Past Machine Gun Kelly x Reader, Opie x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, drug use, cheating

Word Count: 4,935

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9

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

A loud screech directly in front of your face jolted you from your nap, followed by toddler strength slap to your cheek, and a second screech.

“Child, what the actual fuck?” You groaned as you opened your eyes and watched Opie try to wrestle Gage into a diaper while your son continued to screech, laugh his butt off, and squirm with all his might to get away.

“Sorry. He is just not having anything of it...”

“Gage Michael!” You barked as you threw the blanket off of you and sat up. “This is not naked baby time! Naked baby time is after your bath...”

“Oh... um... I kinda had to spray him down?” Opie said hesitantly as he looked up at you. “You were out, and I heard him giggling so I was gunna take him outside to play on the swings so you could sleep a little more, but he was covered in shit, and... well I didn’t really know what to do so I just hosed him off in the bath and used the towel...”

“Then let him go for a bit.” You sighed with a nod. “It’s fine. Saves me a step before bed, but you should have woke me up. You didn’t have to do all that.”

“Yea, well you looked tired as hell.” He said as he set the clean diaper down on the coffee table as you both watched your son take off too push his dump truck popper toy around your living room, as happy as can be in his birthday suit. “And the kid fucking reeked.”

“That happens.” You laughed as you stretched your back out. “Time’s it?”

“Four thirty.” He said as he moved his foot out of the way for the toy. “And I’m just gunna fucking do what I should have done a decade ago and see if I can take you both to dinner tonight. My treat. I know a place by the beach, we can sit, and watch sunset if that’s not to late for him.”

“You don’t care that I literally just got out of a relationship and am currently knocked up?”

“OK one, does it look like I care, and two, can you really call that a relationship or just a toxic partnership?”

“Look, he may be a toxic, cheating, drug addicted scum bag, but he did give me two children and a lot of good memories, too.”

“And I respect that. But let me ask you this. Is the life you had with him the life you really see yourself raising your kids in long term?” He paused for a moment to let that question sink in, before he crossed his feet on the floor and leaned forward to rest his arms on his bent legs. “Look, you know me well enough to know I don’t fuck around with women I’m not serious about. I also know you well enough to know that you don’t like being alone. And I know that if you don’t move on, you’ll go back to him, and I couldn’t live with myself if I waited around for you to see your own self worth only to lose you to him again before that’s happened. So, I’ll ask again. No expectations. You wanna go to dinner tonight?” You groaned and covered your face with both your hands as you fell back into your couch.

“I hate that you know me so well!” You whined as you sat up and looked over at him with a shake of your head. “This better be the best mother fucking restaurant in the fucking world cause I’ll be really fucking pissed if our first date sucks...”

“It’s food truck city. You’ll have plenty of options to pick from and they’re all good.”

“The fuck is food truck city?!”

“It’s by the beach.” He repeated with his eyebrow raised. “How have you not seen it when you go to the beach?”

“Because I don’t go to the beach.” You giggled with a shake of your head. “I had a pool in my back yard...”

“OK, get the fuck up.” He laughed as he got off the floor with a giant smile on his face. “We’re fixing this problem right fucking now. I’m gunna go grab my other shorts from the truck and I’ll help you get your little nudist into a suit after. This is fucking ridiculous.”

“God, just as dramatic as ever!” You called out as you stood up to grab your child. “Come on, bubba. Opie’s gunna show you what the beach is all about.” With surprisingly very little coercing, you got your son in a swim diaper and a bathing suit, packed a small beach bag, and changed into a suit yourself in under twenty minutes. You let Opie drive your car so you didn’t have to move the car seat and so you could cover your kid in sun screen, and just when you were about to ask him about parking, he pulled into a house a couple blocks from the beach.

“Is this your place?” You asked as you leaned forward to look at the stunning house.

“Buddy of mine married a doctor.” He said with a shake of his head. “I use his driveway and save myself the parking fees as payment for photographing his wedding for half what I usually charge.”

“Do you have to go up...?”

“Nah, they’re both at work.” He said as he got out of the car with you and pulled open the back door to get Gage. “I already called him.”

“I got the stroller.” You started as you put the beach bag on your shoulder, but he shook his head.

“I got him.” He said as he shut the back door and moved Gage to his shoulders. “See, that view is much better.” He said over your son’s peels of laughter. “Can you carry my camera.”

“Oh, my God please do not drop my kid!” You laughed as you shouldered his bag and nervously reached up to keep Gage in place.

“Really? You think I’m gunna, what? Drop him on his head or something?” He laughed as he looked over at you, before faking a worried look and lifting Gage’s leg a couple inches. “Whoa... whoa!”

“Harry Winston, don’t even play!”

“She remembers the full name.” He chuckled as he lead you down the street. “Impressive.”

“Shut up.” You huffed as you whacked his arm and glanced up at your son again, who was curiously looking around at his new view of the world. “Wait, stop for a second.” You said as you grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop beside you. “He’s in awe right now.”

“It’s a pretty good view from up here.” He teased as he adjusted his grip on Gage’s legs. “Like right now, I have a killer view of this gorgeous pair of tits.”

“You’re unbelievable.” You laughed as you took a couple pictures of the two of them. “All I get is a beard.”

“That’s cause you’re short.” He pointed out as the three of you kept walking down to the beach. You gasped and fake pouted for a moment as he laughed at his own joke, but when he pouted his bottom lip out at you, your heart skipped a beat.

“Is it bad that I wish you hadn’t listened to my brother?”

“Our worlds would be a lot different, that’s for sure. I never would have moved to this hell hole town.”

“And I wouldn’t be bringing ten tons of emotional baggage with me.” You sighed as you crossed the road beside him.

“I’m not afraid of a little baggage.” He said as you stopped at a corner to cross the main road. “Especially when I know the girl carrying it. Not the girl she’s been trying to be, but the real deal, Southern born and bred, trash talkin’, gun shootin’, hunting in camo instead of going to church on Sunday morning girl.”

“You’re gunna make me start cryin’ again.” You pointed out as you followed him to the first of roughly a half dozen food trucks by the beach.

“Well, you can’t pick out something to eat if you are, so I suggest you stop and pick something.” He said as he took Gage off his shoulders and put him on his hip. “What about you, little man? What sounds good to you tonight? Uh huh. Yea, I think so, too. Uh huh...” A smile spread back across your face as Opie listened and chatted with Gage, pointing out different colorful things for him to look at and talking to him as if he was his best friend and not a one year old.

“Oh, my God. Fried Okra.” You said as you stopped in front of the second to last truck with a shake of your head. “I haven’t had fried okra in years.”

“Fried okra it is.” Opie said with a smile as he stepped over and got in line. “What else you thinking? Their southern mac is pretty spot on, too.”

“He’ll definitely like the mac.” You said with a nod as you stayed close, but far enough away to see the menu on the side. “Fuck, I don’t know. I want a little of everything.”

“Then we split a bunch of shit.” He said with a shrug. “My favorite is their shrimp and grits or their biscuits and gravy...”

“OK, you’re making the pregnant girl even more hungry than she was five minutes ago.” You laughed as you moved back over to his side. “But I’m down to splitting a couple things.”

“We’ll take one of everything for Opie.” He requested the second he walked up to the window. “No kick for the kid on the side of grits. And a beer, a large sweet tea, and what for little man?”

“I’ll do a water and a fruit punch for him. He’ll like that.”

“Alright bud, can you hand her the money?” Opie asked as he handed Gage a fifty, turned him toward the counter, and pointed at the lady. “You gotta share. Can you give it to her?” She ‘aww’ed’ at your son as Opie gently pushed his hand toward the window so the woman at the register could reach it, and he cheered for him when he let go of the payment, which made your pride and joy laugh and clap his hands excitedly.

“He’s adorable.” The woman said as she got Ope’s change.

“He’s his mother’s son in the looks department, that’s for sure.” Opie said with a glance over at you. “Keep the change, hun.”

“Thank you so much! We’ll call your name when it’s ready.” With a nod of his head, he put his hand on the small of your back and led you over to a half empty group of stone picnic tables. He grabbed one closest to the sand, and sat you down on one side of the bench facing the water to hand you Gage.

“Hey.” He said softly before he went back to get the food. You hummed and looked up at him as you situated your son on your lap, and he smiled for a half second before leaning down to kiss you. “Didn’t feel like waiting until the end of the date.”

“You are just trouble, mister.” You said as you reached out and grabbed his shirt before he could walk away. “I like it.”

“Oh, I’ve always been trouble.” He growled as he leaned down to kiss you again. “And you better fucking love it.”

“I do.” You confirmed as he turned and walked back up to the truck to get your food. You set up what you needed for Gage and looked up at Ope as he set the full tray of food down on the table. You both got an absolute kick watching your son fall in love with butter grits, and surprisingly, not the homemade mac and cheese you expected him to love, but you both about died laughing at the horrified look he made when he tried and quickly spit out the okra.

“It’s an acquired taste, bubba.” You laughed as you gave him some more grits to make it all better. Just like Opie had promised, there were no other expectations from the date, other than to just enjoy your evening. He took care of the bags as you helped Gage explore the new environment; snapping a few photos of quick range of emotions the child felt as he stood in sand for the first time, and documenting his sheer joy at the cold waves of the Pacific Ocean. And then his up close presence changed to one from afar as you played as a mother to a little boy, who didn’t also have to keep an eye on your troublesome ex for the first time in a long time.

You took your time building a small sand castle by the shore line just so Gage could smash it all down when you were finished, and you taught him how to chase after the seagulls like all little boys should do. You helped him pick out the best shells to bring to Opie as gifts, who put them all in his pocket as if they were his new prized possessions, and showed him how to gently return a starfish to the water where he lived. You sat in the shallow water with him standing between your thighs to get him to laugh every time a wave washed over your laps, and pointed out the surfers and the setting sun, which he was not that interested in, until he finally just collapsed in your arms in sheer exhaustion and passed out. 

“You wanna take him home?” Opie asked as he sat up and put his camera away when you walked over with Gage fast asleep on your shoulder.

“In a little bit.” You said as you used his shoulder to sit down in the sand beside him. “I haven’t sat and watched the sunset in years.” You glanced over at his nod and took the towel he was handing you to wrap your son up. “Will you stay tonight? I don’t want this night to end yet.”

“Absolutely.” He said with a nod as he draped your towel over your shoulders. “It’d make my day ten times better.”

“Mine, too.” You agreed as you leaned over into his side with a sigh, realizing for the first time that this date didn’t feel forced the way the one and only date with Colson did. “Thank you.”

“Any time, sweetheart.” He said softly as he scooted closer and wrapped his arm around your waist. “Any time.”

——

“Wait, you’re back?!” Your old agent, Shawn, nearly shouted. “Like back, back. Like taking work...”

“I’m back.” You said over him as you made breakfast for you and Opie while Gage babbled incoherently to his French toast stick pieces and cut up grapes. “But tell who ever that I’m sixteen weeks pregnant. But I don’t give a shit if it’s TV or a modeling gig or what, I just need something.”

“OK, you said sixteen weeks pregnant?” He clarified as he took notes, when a phone call beeped in on your other line.

“Yea, just hit four months.” You confirmed with a nod as you looked at Colson’s ID picture. You ignored the call and hit a quick text letting him know you’d call him back, which only made him call you back immediately anyways. “So not super showing yet, but if you squint, you can see it.”

“OK, I know for a fact Inked wants you.” He said as Colson called back yet again, which made Opie reach out to send the call to voicemail for you. “Inked has wanted you for months, I just didn’t know whether you wanted to come back after everything or not.”

“Yea, I wanna be back.” You sighed as you served up breakfast plates while a splash of regret washed over you. “Just don’t wanna think about my past shit anymore. Trying to move on, you know?”

“Right, of course. Well, let me make some calls. I know people have been in touch the past two years to see if you were taking jobs or not, but I gotta see if too much time has passed...”

“Just tell them I’m down for anything but porn.” You said as Colson called back a fourth time. “Keep me posted, I got another call.” You handed Ope his plate and hit answer with an annoyed growl. “Dude, I am on the fucking phone!”

“Yea, well when I see fucking pictures of my son and my girl at the beach with some other guy  first thing when I get off the fucking plane, I’m gunna blow your shit up ‘til I find out what the fuck is going on!”

“I’m not your fucking girl anymore, Kels!” You shouted back as you threw your pan in the sink. “That was your mother fucking choice. And I made a choice based off your stupid fucking choices, too. Now can I eat my breakfast in peace...”

“Where’s my kid?” He demanded over the sound of his car door slamming shut. “I wanna see my kid.”

“He’s eating breakfast, I’ll FaceTime you...”

“Tell me where my Goddamn kid is now, or I will put out a fucking warrant for kidnapping!” He shouted over you, which made Opie jump to his feet when he saw the sheer rage flash in your eyes.

“Mother fucker, I will drag your Goddamn name through the fucking mud if you so much as think of putting a warrant out on me ever again, do you hear me, bitch?! Don’t you fucking dare threaten me...”

“Easy...” Opie breathed in your ear as he stood against your back and took the second frying pan from your hand while Gage started to scream. “Easy, baby girl. You’re pregnant...”

“Tell me where my son is, and I won’t fucking have to!” Colson shouted back as Opie gently grabbed your wrists and crossed them over your stomach. Your whole body started to shake as you fought the conflicting feelings in your mind, and you teared up as you took a shuttering breath to respond.

“555 Whipper Willow Court.”

“I’ll be there in 30.” He barked before hanging up the phone, and you instantly dissolved into tears.

“I hate him.” You sobbed as Ope lowered you to your knees on the vinyl plank wood floor.

“I know, sweetheart.” He said with a nod.

“I need to find a lawyer.” You gasped as you stood up quickly and grabbed your phone. “Fuck, I gotta get ahold of that guy before he does.”

“OK, well I’m gunna head out for a bit...”

“No, please stay.” You said as you looked up at him with a desperate shake of his head. “He’s never hit me before but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t hit walls near me when we’re both going at it.”

“Then I’m not going anywhere.” He stated simply with a single nod. “I’ll clean up little man and take him out back while you call, OK? We got time.”

“Opie...” You said as your phone call to the lawyer that did your custody case with your mom started to ring through on speaker. He paused to turn around to look at you as you started to tear up again. “Thank you.”

“Of course, baby girl. I’d do anything for the three of you.”

“Adam Gracey’s office, Nicole speaking.”

“Nicole, it’s (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I need to schedule an urgent appointment with Mr. Gracey today to file for primary or even full custody...”

“I’m sorry Ms. (Y/L/N), Mr. Gracey is leaving today at...”

“It can’t wait.” You interrupted as you took the call off speaker and put the phone up to your ear with a shaky hand. You took a deep breath, knowing there was no other way than then truth you had tried so hard to manipulate in your favor just a month before in this situation, and exhaled forcefully. “We’re going through a horrible break-up and I don’t trust my ex around me right now, and I’m pregnant with our second. And even though I got clean two years ago, I’m worried he’ll try to use that against me to take my kids into an absolutely toxic environment without me in it to protect them from his lifestyle because he still uses drugs. Please... please, I’m begging you. I need to get the paperwork in before he does. Please. I know how this looks right now, but please...” Nicole stayed silent on the other end of the line for a moment, before you heard your lawyer’s voice faintly in the background.

“I remember them. Call the jet and push it back to four. Tell her to be here at one on the dot, or I’ll have to leave...”

“Oh, thank God.” You gasped as relief washed over you and took a giant weight off your shoulders. “Thank you, I’ll be there on time, I promise. Thank you so much.”

“We’ll see you at one, Ms. (Y/L/N).” Nicole said with a smile in her tone before she hung up to answer the next call.

“Does that smile mean you beat him to the lawyer?” Opie asked as he came out of the downstairs bathroom with your de-syruped son.

“He’s squeezing me in at one.” You said with a nod as you looked over at him. “You got him for a minute?”

“Yep. We’re gunna go out and swing a while, right little man?”

“I’ll be out in a minute.” You said with a nod. After locking the front door so Colson couldn’t just walk right in, you ran upstairs to double check the safety net of cash you had been squirreling away since you found out you were pregnant with Gage. It was small, considering it was mainly just all of your paychecks from working at the farm stand for a few months, some money your dad had secretly gave you when you dropped him off at the airport, and what was left in your savings account when you moved back home, but it was better than nothing since your current bank account didn’t look much better after renting the house you did. 

The weight that had lifted moments before settled right back down on your shoulders as the thought that, even if you were to get custody, you wouldn’t be able to keep your head above water for very long without work crashed down, and made you wonder if it would just be easier to go back to Colson to avoid what was about to come. But that thought was temporarily pushed aside when your ex started to ring the door bell incessantly between his angry pounding.

“Jesus, this man.” You growled to yourself as you put your money back in it’s hiding spot and headed down stairs to get the door.

“Who the fuck is here?” Kels demanded as he walked right by you without a glance.

“Friend from back home.”

“Where is he?”

“Jesus, asshole. Can you fucking chill out for one minute. No stop.” You said as you jumped in front of him before he could go upstairs. “This ain’t your fucking house, Kels. It’s mine. You’re not just helping yourself to roam about my house...”

“Move.” He said as he reached around you to grab the latch of the baby gate, and with your close proximity to it, you got pushed out of the way a couple feet when he swung it open forcefully.

“Hey!” Opie shouted, making your ex freeze as the former handed you your son and moved to stand in front of you. “I don’t fucking think so.”

“You the fucking prick that thinks he can move in on my fucking girl?” Colson asked as he stood up to his full height, which was the exact same as Opie’s. “Yea right.”

“No, I’m the fucking man that’s stepping up to treat her better than you could ever fucking dream of, boy.”

“Oh the fuck you are.” Kels said as he pulled back to knock Opie out in his rage, but your childhood friend grabbed his wrist before he could even come close to connecting with a simple smirk.

“Smile, mother fucker.” Ope said as he gestured to his side at his DSLR camera that you didn’t realize he had set up on the table by the door when you were upstairs. “You’re on candid camera. Judge’s love violence.”

“Wait, what... you filed for fucking custody?!” He shouted as he ripped his hand back and looked at you in total shock. “You’re fucking serious.”

“Colson, I’m not gunna take your kids from you.” You said with a shake of your head as you held Gage tightly to your chest. “But I don’t trust you to be alone with them.”

“Oh, I’ll see you in fucking court then, bitch.” He said with a nod. “All because you think I slept with some girl I didn’t even touch. Looks like you’re the slut here, shackin’ up with some new guy...”

“That’s enough.” Opie said loudly before you could say anything incriminating on camera. “Are you here to see your son or what?”

“No, my son needs to be home where he belongs...”

“Not without a court order.” You said with tears in your eyes and a shake of your head. “Or until you can pass a drug test.”

“Oh, because you have the moral high ground on that one. I’m not the one that overdosed when I was pregnant.”

“And you’re also not the one that’s stayed sober since then either.” You said evenly, hating that you had to use things you were sometimes guilty of yourself against him. “We have a swing set out back. Do you want to spend time with your son...?”

“Nah, I’ll be back with a court order to take him home real soon.” He said as he yanked open your front door. “And a fucking restraining order to keep Lurch here away from my kid.” You jumped when he slammed the door behind him, and Opie instantly reached back and picked up his camera.

“Take this to your lawyer today.” He said as he stopped the video and handed you the whole camera. “Just hit this play button twice and it’ll play back the whole thing. I’m gunna have a buddy of mine that owes me a favor- tech kid, he’ll put up cameras for the next time he comes back...”

“Ope, I can’t ask you to do that...”

“It’s no big deal...”

“It’s no big deal that I can’t afford!” You hissed back as you bounced Gage in your arms to get him to stop crying. “I’m fucked here unless my agent calls back. I will either be able to afford a good lawyer and be homeless by the time Colson finishes dragging this out as long as he can because he knows I’m broke, or I get a shit lawyer I can afford and I lose my kids. So I can’t afford some fancy cameras to make my case, all I have is my word against his so I’m probably just better off dealing with the cheating to keep my kids safe...”

“OK... OK.” He said as he locked the front door and stepped over to you to pull you and Gage both into a hug. “Listen, I’m not fucking around when I say I’m in this. You need help with bills, I can easily move in, because I live in a studio apartment paying month by month, and I hate the place. Shit, I’ll even sleep on the couch if need be. (Y/N), I moved out here to help you years ago. I just... well I lost you for a minute there, but now that I’ve got you back, I’m not letting you or your kids go. 

I’ve known since the day I fucking met you at that stupid middle school dance that we were meant to be, and I don’t give a shit what you’re going through right now, same as I wouldn’t have cared if I had been able to save you when you were using. I’m here for it, just like I should have been years ago when I saw how bad you were with using, and years before that when I saw the start of your down slide at my graduation. I know it’s messy and fucked up, and confusing as hell right now, and even if you just see me as a friend at the end of the day, let me help you. Let me help get you on your feet after everything you have been through until you are able to finally see the woman that I know is hiding under layers of make up, ink, and choices that were made for all the wrong reasons. Let me help you love yourself again. Let me help you be the mother I saw at the beach last night, who is willing to kill herself to make sure her babies are safe and sound. Let me help you, because I know you won’t let anyone else do it for you.”

“Opie.” You cried into his chest, which made him carefully tighten his arms around you in a way that didn’t squish Gage.

“I’m here.” He said with a nod as he leaned down and kissed the top of your head. “I’m not going anywhere. Not for anything.”

Part 11

[marvelousbirthdays]

Happy (belated) Birthday, stillwatersnarwhal !

June 30 - WinterShock, with Darcy time traveling (Darcy encounters WWII sniper Bucky and/or the Winter Soldier during his Hydra Assassin days but anything is awesome), no angst if possible pretty please, for stillwatersnarwhal

Written by @backwardsandinhighheels

mod note: the birthdays are closed, however this request was sent in before the askbox was shut

“Remind me why we’re dressing up like this.”

“Because it’s the theme,” Darcy reminded her friend, pinning a curl into place. “Tony gets upset when we don’t take his themes seriously.”

“Let me rephrase. Why am I dressing up like this?”

“You’re dressing up because I want to dress up but know exactly no-one at this party so you are going to keep me company.”

“No date?”

Darcy only scowled in response, then studied her reflection in the mirror carefully. “Do you think my lipstick looks okay?”

“It’s fine,” Jane muttered distractedly, gaze sliding back to her notes.

Too busy taming a stray curl, Darcy didn’t notice Jane wandering back to her work station and playing with a few dials. Nor did she notice Jane move around to the other side, or when the unfamiliar heels caught on a loose cord, sending Jane crashing into the dashboard. She did notice the flash of white light that filled the room, momentarily blinding her. As she blinked the spots away, someone grabbed her hand.

“C’mon, let’s dance.”

She yanked her hand away - or tried to. His grip was too strong.

“Don’t be like that,” the guy said, dim lights reflecting off his greasy hair.

“Get off me!”

Before it could do any further, a figure stepped up beside her, at least half a head taller than her, even in heels.

“You heard the dame,” the new guy said. “Leave her alone.”

“She your girl?” The first man met the other guy’s stare and faltered. “Sure, whatever,” he muttered.

“Thanks,” Darcy said, turning to her rescuer and hoping she wouldn’t have to fend off his unwanted advances as well.

He grinned. “Couldn’t leave a pretty dame in trouble now, could I? If you want me to scram as well, just say the word.”

Charmed by his easy offer, she smiled up at him. “And if I don’t want you to go?”

His grin grew broader. “Well then, it is a dance. How about we dance?”

Darcy looked around in surprise. He was right, it was a dance. Had Jane transported her downstairs? Out has she been knocked out or somehow didn’t remember leaving the lab? Whatever it was, the room looked great. Tony’s decorators had done a fantastic job of transforming the blank event space into a dance hall exactly in line with the forties theme.

She scanned the crowd and couldn’t see Jane - but the stranger was still looking at her, though his smile had faded somewhat. She realised he was waiting for her answer.

“Sure, I’d love to dance,'' she answered belatedly and took his hand.

Darcy wasn’t exactly good at dancing, but her partner held her with enough confidence that they spun around the room effortlessly, chatting about nothing and laughing about everything. One song merged with the next until they were flushed and her feet were aching. She stumbled and her partner slowed, frowning slightly. “Can I get you a drink?”

Breathlessly, Darcy nodded, and he led her to the seats on the side of the room. “Wait here.”

She sank into the seat with a relieved sigh and took another look for Jane. Not only could she not see her friend - not hugely surprising, given Jane’s height - she didn’t recognise anyone in the room, not even Tony or his superhero buddies. 

“Looking for someone?” her partner asked, reappearing from the crowd with a drink in each hand.

“My friend,” she explained, pausing when his face darkened. “She promised to keep me company because neither of us know anyone but I think I lost her.” Darcy made a rueful face. “I feel really bad now.”

Face clearing, he handed her a glass and took the seat beside her. “I’m sure she’ll turn up. Where did you last see her?”

Darcy sipped at her drink, trying to remember. She’d definitely been upstairs with Jane, but she’d been alone when that guy had grabbed her, and… had that been a flash of light? Her brow creased and she looked down at her glass, surprised to find it empty. She must have been more thirsty than she’d thought. Putting the glass on the floor by her chair, she looked over at her partner - and damn, she really needed to get his number. And, you know, his name. He had this lopsided smile and a way of looking at her that made her insides swoop.

“Do you want to go look for your friend?” he offered.

She nodded. “Yeah, I think I need to.” Standing, she flashed him a smile. “I’m Darcy, by the way.” Before he could respond, she pressed a light kiss to his lips. The last thing she saw was his stunned expression before everything went white. Again.

“Darcy?” Jane asked, and Darcy blinked hard, turning to see her friend half-collapsed over the workstation. “Did you see that?”

“Did I see - I -” Darcy gulped. She was in the lab again, her tube of lipstick still open next to the mirror she’d brought from her suite. A quick glance at her phone confirmed the party had started only ten minutes ago, five minutes since the last time she remembered checking it, but her feet throbbed as if she’d been standing all day - or dancing. “Jane, what did you do?”

“I don’t know,” Jane admitted. “There was a flash of light and then everything went all shimmery. I couldn’t even see you for a while. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, fine.” Her head spun and she exhaled hard. Living at Avengers Tower was never dull, that was for sure. “Ready to go?”

~~~

Steve nudged him in the side. “Looks like Stark went all out on the decorations.”

He forced a smile, wishing he could slink away from the podium Howard’s kid had set up for his ‘surprise guests of honour’. “Man does know how to throw a party.”

“You used to love this,” Steve mused. “Danced with a different girl every night. Sometimes more than one.”

No, he’d gone to the officer dances to find her, the one who stole a kiss along with his heart before disappearing into the crowd. With the resurgence of his memories, it felt like yesterday that she - his thoughts stuttered to a halt. “This your friend?” he asked, without thinking.

Darcy beamed and held up her friend’s hand. “Yep! Found her. This is Jane.” Dropping her hand, she stepped closer, and he jumped off the podium to stand in front of her, ignoring Steve’s worried questions. “Is this a dream?” she murmured, almost to herself.

“If it is,” he answered, “don’t wake me up.”

[sage-sunset]

sunflowers in the rainy winter  - akaashi bday special

this is an aged up, post-college au for my akaashi simps out there

warnings - not much, total fluff, a bit suggestive at the very end 

recommended - 14+

wc - 2.2k

______

“Happy birthday, baby!” He looks you up and down, rubbing his tired eyes. You’re standing there in that pastel blue puffer coat that he bought you a month ago, shaking from the cold with raindrops stuck to your eyelashes. It’s pouring outside, and you’re holding your umbrella in one hand and a box in the other.

“y/n… love… it’s 12:07. In the morning.”

“I know! I wanted to beat Bokuto this year, he probably won’t get here until two!” “...until?” “You must be tired. Let’s go to bed!” You set the umbrella in the bag and put it in the little stand he has before taking off your coat. You’re wearing fuzzy flannel pajamas, the set Bokuto got the three of you last year. You’re still shivering when you put the box into the fridge and then pull him into the bedroom.

Normally you like to hold him, but since you’re freezing like this, he wraps you into his arms and you flop onto the bed together to huddle under the blankets. Your feet are like ice cubes, and he kisses your forehead and smiles into your hair as you fall asleep in his arms. 

He may have been woken up at midnight, but you being here already makes it the best birthday ever.

_

He’s barely dozed off when the door bursts open, and the telltale “HEY HEY HEY” rings out. He rolls his eyes and sits up to see his best friend, standing there in his soaked glory. You’re somehow still asleep, hands clinging to his shirt.

Bokuto is covered in rain, his silvery hair plastered to his clammy forehead. It’s so cold outside Keiji is surprised it’s not snowing.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BRO-” “Bokuto-san, please keep it down. Y/N is still sleeping.” “My bad! HAHAHA-” “Loud.” “Sorry!” He whisper-yells, and Keiji rolls his eyes again. Why did he give this doofus a house key? “Anyways, if you’re this adamant about being here, you can crash on the couch like last year.” “Nah, I’m gonna go home. It’s cold as balls outside, and I want my blanket!” Just like that, he leaves. He spent a good 25 minutes walking over to Keiji’s house in the freezing cold rain at midnight, and he literally just yelled for thirty seconds and then left again.

What the fuck? He tries not to think about it, and goes back to letting you curl into him.

_

This time, he wakes up by himself. The curtain’s open, light filters through, and he sits up. You’re not there, but the smell of something delicious wafts through the apartment.

He rubs his eyes and checks the time, it’s only a bit past eight. He smiles when he walks into the kitchen to see you making something, obviously the source of the smell.

“Love, what’s this?” “Making waffles for my waffle!” He stares at you.

“That sounded much more romantic in my head.” His waffle is just the way he likes them; crispy but still soft and fluffy inside. He stares at it, a warm fuzzy feeling bubbling inside at the little message you’ve spelled out in syrup over the whipped cream; “HAPPY BIRTHDAY”. Jesus, he needs to marry you soon.

“Do you want coffee or tea?” “Coffee, please.” He takes a bite once you’ve sat down. It’s perfect, and as he eats he stares at you. You’re perfect too. 

“So, I’m sure you’ve already booked my day full. What are the plans?” You giggle, and the sound makes him feel even warmer.

“I remembered last month that you said that that new gallery was opening up at the museum. And Tsukishima-kun told me that there’s a big shark exhibit opening at the aquarium. So I figured-” “We go to the gallery, get lunch at that cafe we love, and see the sharks?” “You read my mind! Do you want to do that? If not, we can plan something else-” He takes one of your hands in his, and gently presses a kiss to your knuckle, right on your little silver band.

“It sounds absolutely perfect.” He starts to gather up the dishes, but you swat him away.

“You’re the birthday boy, go get ready! Oh, and I forgot to mention, Kuroo-san said that he and a few others are coming over around seven. So we should try to get back by five or so.” He pecks your cheek as you wash the dishes, and you giggle again.

“That’s fine. Do you know how long they’ll be over?” “Not sure, but it won’t be too late, trust me. I’ll have plenty of time to see my birthday boy in his birthday suit…” He blushes, and you turn back to washing the plates. 

“Go take a shower. I’ll join you in a bit.”

_

The gallery is incredible. You seem to agree, staring into each painting with focus and intent. The good thing about you both being artsy is that you can enjoy this kind of thing together.

He holds your hand gently as you lead him to the centerpiece. It’s nothing short of breathtaking. A huge, sprawling field of sunflowers in the middle of summer. The sky is the purest blue you can imagine, and puffy clouds float in the sea of azure. There’s a pair of hot air balloons floating among the clouds, one decorated in oranges and one in purples. In the distance a little farmhouse sits on the hill. The painting is oil, and it’s huge, taller than him. 

“It’s so beautiful, isn’t it, Keiji?” He says nothing, staring into the flower field. He imagines for a second that it’s real, that you and him are standing in the ocean of sunflowers, under the summer sky.

That farmhouse could be yours. He can see it, a quiet life there with you two. He’d spend the day writing, you’d spend the day playing the piano and singing with that little fairy voice of yours. 

You’d take a picnic basket down into the field, lay down a little blanket and watch the sunset on the hill. Just the two of you, safe and calm and warm as the sun fades away.

“Keiji?” He’s startled out of his fantasy to see you looking at him, a smile playing at your lips.

“Did you hear me?” “Sorry, what did you say?” “I just said that you’ve been staring at that painting for the past fifteen minutes. I’m starting to get jealous,” you tease.

He smiles at that notion. The painting may be beautiful, but it fades in comparison to you. But then again, so does everything else.

“Let’s get lunch, love. We’ll have to hurry if we want to catch those sharks.” -

This cafe may well be his favorite place on earth. Simply put, it’s where you met. You worked there part time, and he’d stopped by every day after class to get his work done. Once he’d first seen you though, he began to focus on you, rather than his homework.

It took him a month to build up the balls to ask you out. You’d said yes, and your very first date was dinner and a planetarium show. Much more romantic than a movie, you’d said when he asked if it was lame.

And now here you were, about to eat lunch here after being together for two and a half years. There you are, ordering him a Hokkaido bubble tea and red bean toast, the two things you spent weeks writing down his order for. Before he’s even pulled out his wallet, you’ve paid, and he’s barely able to scold you for not letting him pay because you sit him down.

“That painting was really something else, huh?” He nods, gazing into your eyes.

“Don’t stare, you’re making me self-conscious.” “Shush, let me admire my beautiful girlfriend.” Since you’re in public, the most you can do without getting looks is hold hands, which you do even when the bubble teas and pastries are set down in front of you. His thumb gently strokes the band on your finger.

He doesn’t let go of your hand as you walk into the aquarium. He doesn’t let go as you walk past the giant tank, staring at the colorful fish and little crustaceans. He doesn’t let go when you ask the kind older woman to take a picture of you two in the shark’s mouth, and he most certainly doesn’t let go as you gently stroke the bamboo shark’s back in the touch tank.

Neither of you want to leave, but he knows that his friends will be coming over soon and you’ll want to have the cake and stuff ready. So before you leave, he buys you an adorable stuffed shark plush from the gift store.

Once you’re home, you decide to eat a little something so that you won’t be having only cake for dinner. He sets out some leftovers; the braised eggs from yesterday morning, the cucumber salad you made a few days ago to go with the katsu bowls, and he heats up some rice and leftover chicken.

While the love of your life sets out some food, you take the cake you brought over last night out of the fridge and place it out on the table. It’s simple, swirled with purple and blue with macarons on top. You also bought a 23 candle, a little golden one. 

It’s perfect.

You eat quickly, only having a little bit but enough to satisfy your stomach. Before you two know it, there’s a knock at the door.

The only person who’d knock, it’s Tsukishima. He may be a sarcastic little shit, but he’s tolerable compared to the other people coming over tonight.

“Good evening, y/n-san.” “Hey, Tsukki-kun. Come on it, it’s chilly outside.” In a little bit, Kuroo and Kenma show up. Then come Yukie and Kaori, Komi and Konoha, and of course the ace himself.

“HEY HEY HEY! HOW’S THE BIRTHDAY BOY DOIN’?!”

You smile at Yukie and Kaori, shaking your heads at the tall man who’s currently hugging your boyfriend so tightly you think he might burst.

“I’m doing well, Bokuto-san. Would you mind putting me down?” “Sure thing, birthday buddy! n/n been takin’ care of you today?” “I’m sure she has, in quite a few ways,” snickers Kuroo, and Bokuto guffaws as Kenma elbows the rooster-headed asshole.

“Don’t be crude.” scolds Kenma as he scrolls through his phone. You assume that Kuroo made him leave his switch at home.

Two hours into the evening and a bottle of champagne later and the cake is almost gone. Yukie and Bokuto are having an arm wrestling contest on the coffee table with Tsukki as the referee, Kaori is passed out on the couch, Komi and Konoha are giggling like second graders for no reason, and Kenma is crying into Kuroo’s shirt about his village and how he needs to get back to the island, that shit ain’t gonna build itself. Keiji is sitting beside you, his head buried in your shoulder.

“You tired, baby?” He nods, his hand gently rubbing your thigh.

“Okay, I’ll call a cab for these idiots. Sit tight.” You stand to go grab your phone, and before you know it the living room is clear of the eight stooges. Keiji walks up behind you, his face slightly flushed, and wraps his arms around you. You can tell he’s a bit tipsy, but he’s not falling over or anything.

“Baby, go brush your teeth and get ready for bed. I’ll clean up in here.” “I can help, love-” “No. I’ll only be a minute. The birthday boy still has one more gift to open.”

With that, you unlatch him from you and go to clean up the glasses and plates. It was nice to catch up with everybody, especially the girls. There were only ten of you, but it was nice to have company for the first time in a while.

You set the leftover cake into the fridge before going into the bathroom to brush your teeth, and you can feel a pair of eyes on you as you wash up and change into one of his shirts.

“Come here, love.”

“In a second.”

“You’re spending the night, right?”

“Of course, baby. I’m yours for the night.”

“You’re too good to me.” “You’re one to talk, prince charming.” He smiles and takes you into his arms. The kiss he pulls you into is just as dizzying and passionate as all of his kisses, but just a bit more fervent. He’s excited, and so are you. 

He pulls away to take your hand, his favorite place to press gentle kisses to. His lips brush over the little band for what feels like the millionth time today, and you remember the promise that the ring means. So does he, and he can’t wait to replace it with a diamond one.

He kisses you again, and you melt into it. He’s so gentle, impossibly so, but despite the gentleness he’s still trapping you there. But trapped against him as he presses a kiss to your forehead and holds your hand in his isn’t such a bad place to be.

“God, I love you so much,” he whispers into your hair. “Mm, how much?” “To the sunflower fields and back.”

(a/n - the “silver band” is supposed to be a promise ring. I’ve always thought that he’d be the kind of guy who would buy you a promise ring.)

[onceuponaloonatic]

haha finally finished it (i’m going to go sleep now i love and miss you guys)

Nico absolutely loved her birthday. Ever since she was old enough to understand what a birthday was she was absolutely in love with her birthday. Nico was a spoiled child in general, but she was always extra spoiled on her birthday. She found herself eagerly waiting for her birthday every single day of the year, asking her parents every day how long it was until the fateful day.

“Mommy stop it.” Nico giggled as Sana tickled her. “Mommy!” “Not until you stop growing up. Mommy wants you to be her little girl forever.” Sana laughed as she tickled Nico more. 

“Honey she needs to go to bed soon.” Mina sighed as she sat down on the corner of her shared bed. Tzuyu was still in the shower and Nico was supposed to be winding down for her bedtime after her pink bubble bath. “I don’t want her to go to bed.” Sana pouted, stopping her tickling and hugging Nico tightly. “When she wakes up she’ll be a year older and I’ll be that much closer to losing her.” “Stop being dramatic.” Mina rolled her eyes. “Nic do you want to sleep in here or in your room?” “I pick?” Nico asked, her eyes sparkling. 

“Of course. We always spoil you during your birthday week.” Mina was right. They always spoiled the crap out of their youngest leading up to her birthday. “I want to sleep with mommies!” Nico smiled. 

“Okay. Let me go get Mr. Bear and Shirokuma so you can sleep.” Mina smiled at her youngest before getting up to leave. 

“Nico?” Sana asked her daughter.

“Yes?” “Will you be my baby forever?” Sana asked. 

“Of course mommy.” Sana kissed Nico’s head. “I love you, darling.” Nico giggled as Sana kissed her some more. “I love you too mommy.” Nico smiled at Sana. Sana had always loved Nico’s smile. It looked like Tzuyu’s and she’s combined. Nico had the most adorable dimples just like her mama. Everyone said Nico looked like her, but she had always thought she looked more like Tzuyu. Regardless, Sana just thought Nico was beautiful. All of her children were. “Nico five minutes,” Mina warned as she came in and put Nico’s stuffed animals on their bed. 

“Aww okay.” Nico pouted. “Fine.” “Think of it this way baby, the sooner you sleep the sooner your birthday comes.” Mina pointed out, brushing a hand through Nico’s messy hair. “She has a point.” Sana smiled. “Now come here, I want to snuggle with you for all of your last moments of being three.” “Okay.” Nico giggled, settling into Sana’s arms. “Mommy?” “Hm?” “I love you.” “I love you more baby.” 

xx

“Tzuyu?” Sana groaned as she opened her eyes. She tried to sit up but realized there was a Nico sized lump on her chest. She smiled before gently moving Nico off of her and onto Mina, sitting up and looking at her wife. It was Tzuyu’s turn to sleep on the left that night, and Sana’s turn to sleep in the middle. “Why are you awake?” Tzuyu turned at the question. She had been staring at the alarm clock before turning. Sana wrapped her arms around Tzuyu’s back, putting her head on her shoulder.

“It’s her birthday,” Tzuyu commented. “Your right.” Sana smiled when she saw the time. It was almost exactly Nico’s birthday. “It was exactly four years ago then.” “I remember being so scared then.” Tzuyu looked over at Nico, who was still blissfully asleep. “No scared is wrong. I was terrified.” “I was too… It was probably the scariest thing I’ve been through.” Sana looked at Nico’s tiny face. “It hurt physically, but the mental pain was the worst.” 

“It was scary. I wasn’t sure who I should focus on. Mina and I were told we might have to give one of you up and- and that scared me. I didn’t want to pick. I couldn’t have picked. I know you would have wanted me to pick Nico. But I was scared.” Tzuyu recounted, tears welling up in her eyes. “Thank god I never had to pick. I don’t think I could have made the decision.”

“Yeah… Just the thought of having to pick between one of you and Nico… It would have stressed me out too.” Sana felt tears prick her own eyes, tightening her grip on Tzuyu. “We can’t be sad anymore though, it’s a happy day. At least for her.” “Of course.” Tzuyu sniffled. “I’m so happy she was born. I know we were supposed to be done but- but I’m just so happy we had her.” “Me too.” Sana reached one hand out and put it on Nico’s delicate shoulder. “She was fate.” “Our fate.” Tzuyu leaned over and gave Sana a kiss. “Thank you for our beautiful little girl.” “No. Thank you.” Sana smiled into the kiss. Once the kiss was over Sana moved away from Tzuyu and went over to Nico, whispering in her little girl’s ear. “Happy birthday Nico.” xx 

“Is she still asleep?” Mina whispered as she pushed the bedroom door open with her foot. Sana was standing on the other side of the door, holding a pink ballon in one hand while meeting Mina at the door.

“She is.” Sana nodded. “What did you make her?” “Chocolate chip waffles.” Mina smiled. “And some apple juice. Her favorite.” “Mina that’s a lot of sugar.” Sana giggled. “You never let her have that much.” “I know. It’s her birthday, and sugar is one of her favorite foods.” Mina smiled. “I’ll regret this all later, but I just want her to be happy.” “Your a sweet Ka-san.” Sana giggled. “Come in, she should wake up any minute.” Considering it was a saturday, Nico had slept in quite a bit. Her parents had let her. They just wanted her to have the most perfect birthday she could possibly have. Mina smiled when she saw Nico still asleep. She was wrapped up her parents comforter, she little face on Sana’s pillow Her cheeks were a bit pink, but she was otherwise peaceful. Mina put the food down on the bedside table and sat next to Nico in the bed, stroking her unruly hair. Sana smiled at the scene of her wife and daughter before leaving to go set up more with Tzuyu. “Mm… Ka-san?” Nico asked as she woke up. 

“Morning Nico.” Mina smiled at her daughter. “Happy birthday.” Mina watched the look of excitement that came across Nico’s face when she realized what today was. “Thank you.” Nico giggled, a huge smile on her face. 

“I have your first present.” Mina reached over to the table and showed Nico the plate with her two favorite breakfast foods. Nico smiled widely at the sight. 

“Chocolate chip waffles!” Nico was practically bouncing with excitement. “I’ll let you eat in bed, but you need to be careful okay?” Mina asked, handing Nico a pink fork. She had already cut the waffle up into little pieces for Nico, but she was still worried her baby could make a mess of their bed.

“Okay.” Nico nodded, using the fork to pick up a piece of waffle. 

It was funny to Mina, how something so simple could make Nico so happy. Part of it was her age, of course, but Nico did always get excited over the littlest things. It made Mina more happy, to know she was able to make her little girl so happy. 

“Ka-san?” “Yes?” “Thank you.” Mina took a mental image of Nico’s smile. She wanted to hold onto the mental image of her youngest with a chocolate tinted smile forever. It reminded her of Sana. And she loved it so much. 

xx 

“Mommy!” Nico yelled as she ran downstairs. “Nico!” Sana giggled when her little one ran towards her. She swept Nico up in a giant hug, kissing her forehead. “Happy birthday baby.” “Thank you mommy.” Nico giggled as Sana picked her up. “She was so excited to come down.” Mina laughed, taking Nico’s plate to the sink. 

“I wanted to see mommy and mama!” Nico giggled. They had kept Nico in the master bedroom for a bit while Sana and Tzuyu got the downstairs ready. They had set the downstairs up as with colorful streamers and lots of pink party decorations for Nico. 

“We missed you too.” Sana kissed Nico’s cheek. 

“I like it mommy!” Nico giggled. “It’s so pink!”

“I know.” Sana smiled. 

“Mama!” Nico jumped down from Sana’s arms and ran to Tzuyu. 

“Hey Kiddo.” Tzuyu smiled and picked Nico up. “Happy birthday.” “Thank you!” Nico giggled loudly as Tzuyu tickled her. The dogs all ran to Tzuyu’s side hearing Nico’s loud laugh, all of them concerned their youngest master was in trouble.

“She’s fine girls.” Tzuyu laughed at the dogs. She put Nico down and she ran back to Sana.

“When are Unnies coming over?” Nico asked excitedly. 

“They are coming by later.” Sana explained. 

“Actually… They aren’t coming over today.” Tzuy corrected, winking at Sana. “I’m sorry baby.” “They aren’t?” Tears welled up in Nico’s eyes as she thought about her sisters not coming. 

“Oh no baby don’t cry. They-they’ll come over tomorrow.” “B-But tomorrow isn’t my birthday.” Nico pouted. “They are just busy. They will come see you as soon as they can.” It hurt Sana’s heart to lie, but Tzuyu was just trying to keep the older kids plan safe. And that incocled just a little lying about Nico’s birthday plans. “Hey, let’s go open your first present okay?” “Present?” Nico asked, a bit more excited than she had previously been. 

“Yup. Your first present.” Sana smiled at Nico. 

xx 

“Auntie Jeongyeon.” Nico giggled as she ran to Jeongyeon as she and Nayeon came. They were the first ones to come over for their niece’s party. Nico was going to have a little party with her family in the afternoon before the adults took her, Haeun, and Hina trick or treating. “Hey kiddo.” Jeongyeon laughed. 

“Happy birthday!” “My birthday is tomorrow.” Jeongyeon laughed. Since her and Nayeon had decided to pass on having younger kids, her and Nayeon had lived vicariously through their friends younger children. Nico, Haeun, and Hina would always go to their house when their parents needed a night away or there was a heat or a rut. They both took care of their three nieces whenever they could. So they were particularly close to all three of them. 

“B-but we’re birthday buddies.” Nico pouted. “Okay. We’re birthday buddies.” Jeongyeon smiled at Nico, giving her a little high five. “Happy birthday, birthday buddy.” Nico’s smile brightened at that. 

“Hey Nico, give Auntie Nayeon a hug too.” Nayeon pouted, reaching for her niece. Nico giggled and nodded, hugging her aunt tightly. 

“Are Seojun Oppa, Hyunjun Oppa, and Yuna Unnie coming too?” Nico asked excitedly. 

“Of course.” Nayeon nodded. “They wouldn’t miss it for the world.” “Yay!” Nico laughed before running back to Sana. 

“She’s very excited.” Sana explained as her daughter held onto her leg. 

“As she should be.” Nayeon laughed. “It’s a big day. For her and her birthday buddy.” Nayeon teased. 

“Nayeon.” Jeongyeon warned. “What? It’s adorable. You and our niece have practically the same birthday.” “It’s a bit off.” Jeongyeon sighed. “But yeah, sure.” “Birthday buddies.” Nayeon teased once again, laughing at Jeongyeon’s blush. “It’s adorable.” xx 

After all the other guests arrive Nico has the time of her life playing with Haeun and Hina. All three of them are hyped up on sugar and excitement so they practically run everywhere while the older people talk. After letting the kids have fun for a bit they move onto doing cake. Nico adorably makes a wish and blows out her four candles before practically shoving her piece of cake into her mouth. After that the adults get her, Haeun, and Hina ready for trick or treating and Jeongyeon, Dahyun, and Sana take the three of them while the others stay and help clean up. Nico had a weird ritual where she would always open her gifts after everyone left, so most of her gifts sat in a pile on the table for when she returned from trick or treating. She of course has fun trick or treating, but Sana notices Nico is a bit sad. She doesn’t need to ask to know what was wrong. Even though they were trying to surprise her, she knew her sisters not being there bummed her out. She wanted her sisters to be ther for her big day. 

When they got back Nico, Haeun, and Hina had a big candy exchange where they traded for the candy they didn’t like before Dahyun and Momo took the other two home. Nico waved the last of her guests goodbye before going back to her parents and her large gift pile. She opened all of her gifts, happy at most of them, until Sana interrupted her.

“Hey sweetie, you have one more present.” Sana smiled at Nico. The child was starting to get tired by that point. She had had a huge day filled with lots of excitement and sugar and she was crashing fast. 

“I do?” Nico asked, a bit confused. 

“Where?” “Why don’t you go up to your room?” Sana smiled at Nico. Nico looked at her, confused for a second before nodding. Her parents followed her as she went upstairs to her room. Nico opened the door and was surprised by what she saw.

“Surprise!” Nico was shocked to see her sisters all standing there. 

“Unnies?!” Nico asked excitedidly. “Woah!” Her sisters had gotten her a new bed. Nico had started to outgrow her toddler bed so her parents thought it was a good time to get her a normal bed. They had gotten her a lofted bed, with a railing and stairs so she wouldn’t fall. It wa smooch larger than her old bed, and underneath her sisters had set up a little play area. Complete with a couple comfortable blankets on the ground and lots of stuffed animals her sisters had made a fort with the space under Nico’s bed. There were fairy lights lining the top and curtains on the side tied up with ribbons.

“Do you like it?” Sai was the first to ask. She was sitting on her sister’s new bed, Saya next to her while Saki and Sae were down below.

“I love it!” Nico screamed. “Thank you!” “Of course kiddo.” Sai laughed. She wasn’t expecting Nico to take off towards her and hug her, but she greatly accepted the hug. 

“I missed you Unnie.” Nico pouted. “I missed all of my Unnies.” Tears came to Nico’s eyes. “I wanted you to be here.” “We’re sorry Nic.” Saki crawled out from the little fort and stood up to hug her sister from behind while she was in Sai’s lap. “We just wanted to surprise you.” “I just wanted Unnies.” “Well, now you have us.” Sai smiled at her little sister. “We’re yours, all night.” Mina, Sana and Tzuyu smiled at the scene of their older children with Nico. Honestly, they couldn’t have asked for a better family. Even if it was a bit abnormal, they absolutely loved each and every part of their children. And they knew they always would.

[iam93percentstardust]

Thanks for Watching

Hey guys, this might sound a little bit cringey and it’s certainly a lot bit silly but I recently reached 500 followers here and I’ve had this idea in mind for a social media AU so I thought this might be a fun way to celebrate the new followers.

Find it on ao3

“Hey Steve?” Bucky called from the living room.

Steve looked up from his sketchbook, slightly annoyed by the interruption. He didn’t like to be bothered when he was working and he especially didn’t like it when he was trying to finish a commission. This one had been sitting in his inbox for a few weeks and while it hadn’t been the longest time he’d taken to finish a commission, he wanted to get it finished sooner rather than later so the client would stop sending him emails every hour asking if it was done yet.

It was probably rude to mark their emails as junk mail, right?

Well, nothing for it. He was out of the zone now. He pushed away from the desk, unable to hide a giddy grin as his chair spun on its wheels. That feeling never got old. Steve stood, stretching out his cramped fingers and rubbing out the sore muscles in his hand.

“What’s up?” he asked, making his way out to the living room.

“Didn’t you do a commission for some guy with a robot?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah, sent it off last week. Why?” he replied, rounding the couch so he could see what Bucky was watching.

“I think I found the guy.” Bucky turned his tablet so Steve could see. It was a video from the Youtuber that Bucky liked so much, youknowwhoiam or something like that, the one who did the science and engineering experiments.

“—Today is Dum-E’s birthday so I got him a special present,” the young man on the screen was saying. Steve liked him on sight. It was hard not to like someone with fluffy brown hair, Bambi eyes, and practically bouncing up and down on his chair.

“Isn’t that Tony Stark?” Steve asked, pointing at the guy. He definitely remembered sending the painting of the adorable robot off to someone named Anthony Carbonell.

“Yep,” Bucky said, popping the p. 

“There’s no way that’s the guy then. That guy’s name was—”

“Anthony Carbonell. Yeah, I know. I got it after you told me you thought his name was cute for like the tenth time.”

“It is cute,” Steve said defensively. “And it wasn’t just the name. I thought maybe you know where someone might get a robot like that. They don’t exactly sell them at the Apple Store.”

“Whatever,” Bucky said, waving a hand. “Anyway, you know Stark’s mom’s maiden name is Carbonell, right?”

“What does that have to—” He stopped as Stark held up the painting Steve had done. “Oh.”

“Dum-E doesn’t get to have it yet but!” Stark chirped. “But I’m going to frame it and then he can have it. I just don’t want him to tear it and as we all know—” He rolled his eyes here and it felt a little like an inside joke that he was letting the audience in on. “—Dum-E’s fine motor skills are just a little lacking. But sue me. I was drunk.”

He turned slightly, the camera panning out so that they could see a very familiar robot attempting to put a dunce cap over his birthday hat. “No, Dum-E,” Stark groaned. “I was joking about the dunce cap. It’s your birthday. You know you were an idiot.”

The robot whirred sadly, its one arm drooping.

“Don’t act like that. You know what you did.”

The arm drooped even further.

“Fine. We’ll play catch or something later.”

Immediately, Dum-E perked back up, beeping happily as it tosses the dunce cap off to the side.

“You see what I put up with?” Stark asked, the camera coming back to him as he jerked a thumb in the direction of the robot. He patted the back of the painting smugly. “I’m going to be hanging this bad boy up later this week and I just know you guys are going to ask about it—and who can blame you, it’s amazing. So I thought I’d let you all know who the artist is now and then you can all go and commission him and you should. This guy was a dream to work with.”

Bucky punched Steve in the arm. “That’s you, buddy. He said you were a dream.” He batted his eyelashes flirtatiously.

Steve snorted and reached down to shove him off the couch, neatly catching the tablet in his hand as Bucky yelped and dropped it.

“Here’s the link to Captain Brooklyn’s channel—don’t judge him for the awful name,” Stark continued, pointing to a link at the bottom of the screen. “His commission info’s on his About page. Seriously, go check him out. His speedpaints are incredible and frankly, he’s pretty incredible looking.”

Steve was a little dazed. This guy who had several thousand subscribers (and was more than a little adorable) was telling people to go check out Steve. Steve wasn’t anybody famous. He had five subscribers, he knew for a fact that Bucky was one of them, and he was pretty sure that his mom was another. Famous Youtubers like Tony Stark didn’t just casually tell people to look at his work and hit on him in the same sentence.

“That’s it for today,” Stark said. “Howard wants me to attend a meeting he’s got with R&D that I’m supposed to be at—” He checked his watch. “—twenty minutes ago. Oops! Wish Dum-E a happy birthday in the comments below, please go throw money at Captain Brooklyn, and, as always..” His smile grew wider, more earnest. “Thanks for watching.”

The video ended with a reminder to like and subscribe, not that Steve paid any attention to them. He had seen a couple of Stark’s videos before. His impression had been of an arrogant playboy who wanted to get a little more fame so he’d started up a Youtube channel. What he’d seen on this video, the young man who bought a birthday present for his robot and commissioned unknown artists, wasn’t anything like that. 

“Huh,” he muttered to himself. Maybe he could… He logged Bucky out of the account and then logged himself in.

“What are you doing?” Bucky asked, peeking over his shoulder. Steve said absently as he pulled up Stark’s channel, “I’m subscribing,” and clicked the button.

[madasthesea]

Trope: Hurt/Comfort

(Post-Endgame; Tony lives)

“Come sit with me, kid,” Tony said softly right before Peter was about to excuse himself to bed. Pepper was tucking Morgan in—quite a bit past her bedtime, but the excitement of the day seemed to excuse that—and Peter had figured Tony would want to go to sleep, too.

“Ok,” Peter agreed, a little wary. He’d expected Tony to have a talk with him ever since he came back to life four days ago, but thinking about what it might be about made his stomach twist in knots and his mouth go dry.

Tony stepped out onto the porch and Peter followed, closing the door quietly behind him. It was a gibbous moon tonight and the lake was lit up in silver and gold reflected from the cabin windows. Insects were chirping and buzzing in the early summer warmth.

It would be a perfect night if it weren’t for Peter’s racing heart and sweaty palms.

Tony settled onto the padded bench, sideways to look out at the little wooden dock, then patted the spot next to him. Peter perched on the edge of the seat, but Tony almost immediately wrapped an arm around his stomach, pulling him back to lean against Tony’s chest. His other arm came up, encircling Peter, and Peter hesitantly adjusted until he was comfortable, his head resting against Tony’s collarbone.

There was silence for a long minute, just the bugs and Tony’s heartbeat, solid and steady against Peter’s back.

“I thought you wanted to talk,” Peter asked, nearly whispering.

“Is there something you want to talk about?” Tony’s tone was gentle and warm. It always was, now. He’d lost the edge, the biting hint of sarcasm that he’d had before Thanos. Peter wondered if it was because of Morgan or if he was too tired to fight.

Peter swallowed. There were things he knew he needed to talk about, at some point. Like what he was supposed to do now, what had happened in those five years. But he didn’t want to talk about any of it. Not now.

He shook his head. Tony hummed and it reverberated in Peter’s chest.

“Ok, then.”

Silence fell again. Peter looked out at the lake and so did Tony. Every few minutes, Tony would hug Peter a little closer or duck his head and press his cheek to Peter’s hair.

It seemed that Tony really had just wanted to sit with Peter. Had just wanted to hold him for a while.

It was so different from the Tony he’d known, who had occasionally and with no small amount of feigned complaining given Peter a brief hug or pat on the back. Who would hold his hand when he was hurt but only if Peter was drugged up enough Tony thought he wouldn’t remember. Who had kissed Peter’s forehead once and then looked like his life had flashed before his eyes.

Feeling inexplicable tears in his eyes, Peter spoke.

“We never did this before.”

Tony caught his breath. Then he unwound his arms from around Peter, straightening.

“I’m sorry, I was... I guess I’m used to Morgan,” Tony said, his voice barely masking his hurt.

Peter caught Tony’s wrists and pulled them back to where they were.

“That’s not what I meant,” he whispered.

Tony sighed behind him, readjusting Peter so they were even closer, his hand pressed over Peter’s heart. He dropped his forehead onto Peter’s shoulder, his breath sticky warm through his t-shirt.

“I should have held you more,” Tony whispered. Peter closed his eyes.

“After Morgan was born, I would just spend... hours holding her, watching her sleep and breathe. And I realized that I should have done that with you, should have just reveled in the fact that you were warm and alive and there when I had the chance.”

Peter tried to think of something to say to that, but Tony kept talking.

“Your first birthday after, I was out of my mind with grief. I just walked around Manhattan all day, barely even paying enough attention to not get hit by a car. People might have tried to talk to me but I didn’t hear it. Until this old man put a hand on my shoulder and asked if I was alright.” Tony’s voice broke and he took a steadying breath.

“When I told him it was my son’s birthday—” Peter wondered if Tony could feel his heart jump under his palm “—he put his arm around me and steered me into a bakery. He bought me a cupcake,” Tony snorted. “Someone bought me, Tony Stark, a cupcake. We didn’t have any candles so we stuck a lit match in it for me to blow out.”

“What’d you wish for?” Peter asked before he could stop himself. Tony’s hand clenched around Peter’s t-shirt, crumpling it into a fist over Peter’s heart.

“I wished to trade places with you,” Tony whispered after a long moment. “I wished you had lived and I had died.”

Peter drew in a sharp breath, trying to sit up and turn to look at Tony, but Tony held him still. “Tony,” he reprimanded.

“Pepper was four months pregnant and I didn’t care,” Tony confessed. “If I could have I would have taken your place.”

“Tony,” Peter said again. He couldn’t see the lake through his tears anymore, just silver light and Tony’s knee against his leg.

“Peter,” Tony said. His voice broke and Peter could feel the sob wrack his chest. He dropped his head again, burying his face against Peter’s shoulder. “I would have mourned you every minute for the rest of my life and it still wouldn’t have been enough. The world should have stopped spinning when you died. But it didn’t. And I had to...”

“You had to keep living,” Peter soothed. He pressed his cheek against Tony’s head, hugged the arms hugging him. “I would have wanted you to keep living.”

“Morgan saved me,” Tony admitted, almost like he felt guilty. Like nothing should have stopped him from grieving. “Most of me, at least. But there was always this part of me, this little thought in the back of my mind that I shouldn’t be happy and I was happy, but...”

Peter’s t-shirt was damp where Tony rested his head.

“Living without you was like missing a lung. You can never quite catch your breath.”

Tony sat up, raising a hand and turning Peter’s chin until they were looking at each other. Tears dripped down Tony’s face unheeded, but he wiped Peter’s away.

“When I saw you again on that battlefield, I took my first full breath in five years.”

Sniffling, Peter twisted around and wrapped his arms around Tony, crawling half into his lap to hug him as tightly as possible.

Tony kissed his cheek, then muttered, “I missed you more than you could ever know, Peter.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter hiccupped.

“Oh, buddy. I don’t want you to apologize. I just want you to be here.”

“I will be,” Peter promised, nodding against Tony’s throat. “I will.”