#i was gonna say when ive got both chapters but that's a full ass lie maybe tmrw

[plaguethewaters]

little superhero au thingie!! except the superhero part is super duper nonexistent and this chapter is litterally just cbeeduo proposal. Enjoy!

---

"You've gotta forgive me, because I'm about to get really sappy here."

Ranboo says, and Tubbo thinks it's awfully ironic. It's night, brilliant stars shining over them - the only true advantage of no public lighting at all - they're on the roof, sitting on the thickest blanket they own and huddling together for whatever warmth they can find, the few remnants of their picnic laid abandoned to the side. They've been out all evening, eating sweets and heart shaped sandwiches, because Ranboo had always been a little extra. He thinks, we've gotten past the sappiness threshold a whole lot ago, and also, there's no way whatever you've got to say could be worse than this romance novel ass- situation.

His hand is taken into Ranboo's, who starts rubbing at his knuckles with his thumb. He does that often, when he's nervous - but also, Tubbo muses, he's nervous about pretty much every single aspect of his life, so this isn't anything new. Then he starts talking, with a way too big, almost suspicious smile on his face, his voice low.

"You know I don't- I don't think I've ever been as happy as I am now. I didn't know this kind of happy even existed, I think, not until you two came into my life." His gaze is soft and, as previously anticipated, unworldly sappy. "You've made me truly content with my life in entirely new ways, and continue to do so every single day. I can't really imagine my future without you in it."

"You're making this sound like a marriage proposal, bossman." Tubbo giggles, just to lighten the mood. Mostly because he's right, and he does not know if he could survive the weight of a love so, so fucking ginormous, settled on his shoulder's like the world's heavier and softer mountain, not without a little comedic relief.

"I mean..." Ranboo kisses his hand, doing a so-and-so gesture with his free one, "Kind of?"

The mountain doesn't move, and Tubbo's suffocating. This is not how he imagined he would die.

"I-uh. sorry?" he manages to shutter, while his mind helpfully supplies him with a series of his possible obituaries. "Young man dies of Too Much Emotion.". or "Romantic relationship actually a trap, Villain dies because Boyfriend loves him too much." (Boyfriend? Fiancè????? What the absolute hell.)

"I mean, i mean not now, obviously that's- that would be a little too much to dump on you so soon." Ranboo laughs, clearly as nervous as he looks. "Just, like, I've prepared a whole speech, goddammit, let me say it properly."

Tubbo sees the light. His heart is definitely going to explode.

"Okay I've, I've started this a little wrong. Because I said, right, I said, I can't imagine my life without you, but it's more like, like, I couldn't have imagined my life without you. I would've never even tried. I don't think I realized I could imagine a life for myself outside- outside of hero work. I either died at fifteen - or, or seventeen, or twenty, or whatever limit I decided to give myself that year - or got an eternity of work, no escape at all. Then, then you, and Tommy, and suddenly I'm dreaming of white picket fences and wedding bells and large breed dogs and- did you know I was a writer? When I was little, I used to have notebooks over notebooks full of short horror stories, and then I stopped because with housework and normal work and trying not to starve I never had the time - you've made me want to write again. You made me realize I could dream, and follow those dreams and succeed."

The speech comes out rushed, all too many words confined in all too little space, too little time. He sounds like he's afraid if he doesn't speak soon enough, someone is going to come and steal his voice, leaving his feelings forever entrapped.

His gaze shifts, and now he's staring directly into Tubbo's eyes. The intensity is overwhelming, oppressive, painful. His eyes bore into Tubbo's skull with the force of a drill, carving a hole from his eye socket to the center of his brain, then making a little cave in it and resting in it's center.

"I don't- marriage right now would not be a good idea, I don't think, but? Maybe, in the future... Will you marry me?"

Their stares break, and the parasite removes itself from Tubbo's poor, poor brain. Then he's playing with Tubbo's fingers, looking blushy and shy to the side - because of course he's nervous now, after completely destroying him, leaving unable to think anything but an infinite sting of I love yous and wondering how on earth he got this lucky and fuck. Tubbo would die a thousand times over if it got him to look this pretty again.

What the hell was he supposed to say now? He isn't, and has never really been good with words, not when actions and punches have always done the job just as well - how could he speak now, having been hit in the face with a confession like that? With the, the- he would call it the burden, he guesses, but that's just entirely the wrong word - the responsibility, the knowledge he's the reason Ranboo was able to grow and get through all of that, given to him like it is no big deal. He would've never thought of that. In fact, he was worried he'd been doing way too little support wise, lacking the knowledge and emotional maturity needed to properly help someone like that.

Like even now, after the whole speech, he still isn't all that convinced. All he ever did was love Ranboo - which isn't news, and would continue not to be news as far as he's concerned. He loves him, will love him even if he somewhat disagrees with the confession, because how could he be possibly worth so much in Ranboo's eyes, who deserves so much more than he could possibly give, and he loves him so much - but he does not know how to say any of that.

So, he just kisses him.

And again, and again, trying to push into his lips anything that cannot fit into his mouth and failing still, but nobody's to say he doesn't fucking try. When he stops, it's because his traitorous body runs out of air to breathe, but he still keeps as close as possible, resting his forehead on Ranboo's. If he has to stop to breathe, they'll fucking share the breaths too.

----

Ranboo has learned, by now, that Tubbo kisses like he's fighting.

Mostly by way of focus and determination: he kisses with the same kind of concentration one might have when operating a sniper rifle - or, much more topically, when defusing a tickling bomb. There's no second in which he's idle, any rest clearly ruled by strict necessity rather than any want or will. When he does retreat, surrendering finally to the need of air, he doesn't part neither far nor long, touching their foreheads together or breathing in his neck, his hands mapping all available territory to make way for later exploration.

Ranboo has seen him battle, has fought him directly in the past, and he finds no difference between the crushing adrenaline of a missed punch, of wrestling for a loaded gun, of running towards a lit fuse - and whatever he is feeling right now.

A hand finds its way to his thigh, squeezing the soft flesh, and the little air he'd managed to keep in his poor lungs gets knocked out of him. Maybe they are in battle, actually. Maybe killing him is Tubbo's way of saying no.

Because - and he's said this already, but his brain is too scrambled to pay attention to something as utterly unimportant as repetition (anything less important than this). Because he's used to Tubbo, to the way he seems to equate love and war, to the almost violence of his affections but this feels... different, somehow. Somewhat. He's not focused enough to register what's actually changed.

Maybe it's the way his mind had already been lost in the anxiety of the moment, before his little speech, and the suspense for an answer now; or maybe it's just the thick layer of tears evenly coating each of their faces.

Which, by the way, does not help to ease his worries at all, to be entirely honest. Not that - don't get him wrong, it's not that the kissing isn't nice (heavenly, wonderful, amazing, showstopping and a plethora of other words that do not even come close) but it doesn't really enlighten him as to what Tubbo's answer is going to be. Is this a "Yes of course I'm going to marry you" type of kiss or more, like, "No how dare you ask that I'm kissing you just so you shut up" deal?

(Now, a normal person, in a hypothetical fictional audience, would probably butt in right about now with, let's say, a text to speech device of some sort. And they would say, with all the confidence of anonymity, they'd say: "Ranboo, this is a really stupid dilemma. Why would he ever choose to reject with a kiss? Nobody does that ever." And they would probably be right! But the hand is still on his thigh, and another hand is rubbing slow circles into his waist, and the kiss is still happening, so forgive him if his reasonings aren't all that rational right about now.)

He manages to detach himself eventually - not easily, not even particularly willingly - for the few moments absolutely necessary to regain a couple braincells and learn how to use his own mouth again.

"Uh- U, I, Is this-" Not to use it well, mind you, but he isn't going to complain. he'll take what he can get and deal with it. "Uhu-"

"What was that, bossman?" Tubbo giggles, voice still raspy from the assault to his lips, and Ranboo finds it somewhat insulting; loquacity is an absurd standard to hold for the guy currently being lobotomized.

"Wh- was that, uh" Tubbo's hand is slowly rubbing at his cheek in what was probably meant to be encouragement, but only manages to scramble his brains even more. "Was that a yes?

"No."

His stomach plummets.

He knows, logically, that he should not have expected anything. They've been dating for not even a year, and this was sprung on Tubbo so suddenly, and everyone always say to never ask if you aren't sure your partner will say yes but Ranboo will never be sure of anything in his life (at least not how he was sure this would've worked) and he needed to ask like, physically. And at the end of the day it's not like this is gonna mean anything for their relationship, because ring or not he knows Tubbo loves him (maybe, hopefully, because he cannot begin to imagine the contrary, it would tear him apart), but he had dared to hope-

"No," Tubbo continues, "I've just started making out with you, because that is how normal people reject proposals in real life." He's smiling, still caressing his cheek, and Ranboo wants to die a little less. He pointedly ignored the disembodied voice of the fictional audience member reminding him how they were right. (Just because you were doesn't mean you gotta act mean about it. Meanie.)

He groans, quite loudly, so that all of his horrible pain is heard, and hides his shameful face in the warm crook of Tubbo's neck.

"Never start a sentence like that ever again, for the love of god."

Tubbo laughs, bright and loud. "Oh, you poor baby", he croons, mockingly. Ranboo is being made fun of, but the guy doing it is exceptionally beautiful and also his fiance now, so all the haters are quite obviously just jealous.

"You're right though," Tubbo continues, "I wasn't quite finished answering."

Whatever smart, flirty and witty reply Ranboo could have given him gets swallowed by a chocking sound, as the push of lips and the warmth of hands pull him onto yet another battlefield.

---

"You know what would be really, really funny actually?" Tubbo asks, after everything is done. He's basically sitting in Ranboo's lap now, only one lonely knee left hanging on the blanket. They cuddle together tighter, mostly because they want to, but also because it got so cold on that roof once the sun went down and now it feels far below freezing.

"Hmmmm..." he rumbles, a content rumble (NOT. a purr. shut up.) so loud it almost hides his voice. "No, what would?"

"If we just pretended to be married already." Tubbo sits up a little bit.

"Just like. Hear me out."

"I'm hearing, I'm hearing."

"Okay, for one - we've got like, another full year before we would be able to actually get married and you and I both know I've got zero patience to wait that long. And we're like, super wanted criminals, so nobody would want to marry us even if we were legal, right?"

"Absolutely correct."

"And also. Think of the Bitches faces when we get into battle against them and we have wedding bands on, calling each other 'husband' and shit"

A pause.

"Oh, oh my god" They both start laughing at the same time, falling back into the blankets in a mountain of little giggles. The thought is, as expected, absolutely hilarious, and with the added giddiness of being able to be husbands, of loving each other that much - it doesn't look like they'll be stopping anytime soon.

The moon is high in the sky, the cold is still frigid, and their laughs are loud enough for several noise complaints. Tonight, they hug each other and go to bed. Tomorrow, chaos would begin for real.

[sunmoonandeddie]

and grace, my fears relieved

pairing: steve rogers x reader

word count: 2,623

summary: You meet someone new in the most unlikely of ways during the quarantine in New York City.  A hospital isn’t the worst place to meet someone, right?

chapter warnings: swearing, both steve and the reader have covid-19, but neither die

masterlist

a/n: Let me know what you think!

The virus started out inconspicuously enough, with just a few cases here and there that everyone assumed would be quarantined and taken care of, but Steve was paranoid.  How could he not be?

He’d been a sick kid.  Real sick.  And then when he was a teenager, he got some revolutionary kind of treatment for his heart and lungs and it was like his entire body had been kickstarted.  He shot up a foot taller and gained over a hundred pounds.

He had the stretch marks to prove it.

Granted, he had to work a little to gain as much as he did.  After the treatment, the weight gaining workouts and diet plans suddenly worked.  He looked… normal.  And then he buffed up.  Real big.

It came in handy pretty often with his job.  He had become a firefighter, and carrying people out of burning buildings was often part of the job.

Fires still happened in a quarantine.  If anything, they happened more frequently because people were home and the number one cause of house fires was unattended cooking.  A parent could be cooking any meal of the day and then their kid distracts them and boom.  Fire.

So he worked overtime, day in and day out.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t scared.  He was scared shitless.

It was like his ma used to say, back when she was alive, “Just because you’re scared doesn’t mean you run away.  You fight back for what’s right.”

Sarah Rogers had been a lot smarter than people assumed.  She was a former socialite, and an Irish Catholic one at that.  Her parents had an absolute conniption when she’d fallen in love with a former convict.  His dad had been in and out of jail for petty things.

It certainly hadn’t been her choice to fall in love with him.  But she had told him that if he didn’t get his act together, she wasn’t going to be with him.

He’d straightened himself up and become an outstanding citizen.

But that hadn’t stopped her family from disowning her.  Once she refused to break up with him, she was out.  Out of their house, out of their wills, everything.

She went from wearing Valentino and Chanel to items picked out at Goodwill.

But Steve’s parents had loved him more than anything.

He’d become a firefighter just like his dad.  He wanted to help people just like him, and well… That’s what he was doing now.

Or had been, until his throat had started to hurt.  And when it hadn’t let up three days later, even after a plethora of cough drops and teas, he went to the hospital.

It had only been about a month since it really started and the first dozen cases showed up in New York City.  He’d been cautious—overly cautious, some might say—but he still had to go to work.  And who knows how many people he’d come into contact with that had the virus?

It was still early days.  He was able to get the test, and for that, he was lucky.

But then he had to go home and wait.

And then he got the call.  He had to immediately go back to the hospital to be quarantined.  He’d been put in a hospital room that was usually used as a private room in the Emergency Room—a trauma room, they called it.  Trauma Room 2.

All of their other hospital rooms were taken.  It was a lot worse than anyone had let on.

He was there for about twenty minutes before you got there, clearly terrified and holding a duffel bag full of clothes so you wouldn’t just have to wear the scratchy ass hospital gowns.

He’d only thought to bring two different pairs of sweatpants and a few sweatshirts, as well as his usual pairs of jeans.

But he was quickly finding that those weren’t too comfortable to wear while being quarantined.

Maybe he’d be able to convince someone to run down to the hospital gift shop to grab him something to wear.  Some Brooklyn Hospital sweats or something.

“Hey.”

He looked up from his tablet, looking for the source of the voice.  God, he was so tired.  And everything hurt.  There was only so much that honey could do for his voice.

“Hey!  Over here!”  The voice broke off into a coughing fit, and it sounded nasty.  Real nasty.  The kind of coughing that hacks up a lung.

He gets up out of his bed with a grunt, feeling like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.  And not the big, strong shoulders he had no.  The weak little skinny ones he had before.  The ones where he could barely lift a gallon of milk in each hand without getting overworked.

You’re sitting on the ground, taking deep breaths as you try to catch your breath.  “Hey,” you said with a weak smile.  “You got any cough drops?  I ran out and my nurse said she was gonna try to find me more two hours ago.”

There’s no medicine available to treat the virus.  So they just treat the symptoms.

And there’s a severe shortage of cough medicine amongst the patients, but no one really mentioned that.

“Yeah,” he said as he walked over to his little bedside table.  He opened the drawer, pushing the Bible left inside to the side and grabbing the cough drops.  He grabbed four little individually wrapped pieces before dragging his feet back to the doorway.

He couldn’t lie, sitting down looked really nice right at that moment.  His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest just from walking that short distance.  So he sunk to his knees and leaned back against the doorframe, on the opposite side that you were.

Even though he’d become a firefighter like his dad, he didn’t understand how he could have such a strong faith in God when things like this happened.  Sitting across from you, seeing how tired and run down you looked, he wasn’t sure he believed at all.  How could a God that claimed to be so benevolent and loving do this?  Or at least not step in and do something to stop it?

“Did you bring the goods?” You asked with a bit of a laugh, before breaking off into a deep cough.  “Fuck…”

“Me, too,” he said softly as he grabbed one of the cough drops and tossed it in your direction.

You groaned as it landed behind you, shooting him a glare.  “Do I look like a basketball player to you?”

Steve let out a snort as he grabbed another one.  “Okay, are you ready this time?” He asked, raising a single blonde brow.

“Oh, my god, yes.  Please, just throw it,” you said, but there was a slight grin toying at the corner of your mouth.

“What’s the magic word?” He asked.  This was, quite honestly, the most fun he’d had in ages.

You gave him a look that said you’d kill him if he didn’t give you a cough drop.  “Give me a cough drop before I break down sobbing because it hurts so bad?” You deadpanned.

“Okay, okay.  No need to get dramatic,” he said before he tossed another one.  This one hit your forehead before falling into your lap.

“If you want dramatic, I can turn into a Disney princess right now,” you giggled.  Your voice was weak, but it was hard to muster up the energy to talk sometimes.  Actually, not even sometimes.  Most times.

He watched you for a minute as you worked the wrapper of the cough drop off and popped it into your mouth.  “I’m Steve.  Steve Rogers.”

“Well, hello, Steve.  Steve Rogers,” you said with a giggle, your words slightly distorted from the hard candy in your mouth.  You gave him your name as he tossed you the other two cough drops.

It was nice to have someone to talk to.  It had been four days since the two of you entered the hospital before you had called out to him.  And yeah, he still had his phone.  He texted and called Bucky everyday, but it wasn’t the same as having a face-to-face conversation.

It also kinda helped that you were really, really pretty, even when you were sick and exhausted.

In fact, he couldn’t remember anyone that he thought was as pretty as you.

“Stevie?” You said a week and a half later.  It had gotten worse.  So much worse.  You had breathing tubes in, as well as an IV.  His wasn’t as bad.  He just required the IV.

Your nurses tried to get you to stay in your beds, but they soon gave up the fight, choosing instead to help the both of you move your chairs so you could talk to each other, separated by a hallway.

“Yeah, doll face?”  Steve’s heart was hurting as he watched you with sad blue eyes. You were wrapped up in one of his hoodies, drowning in the fabric.  He’d gotten Bucky to run by his apartment and grab him some more comfortable clothes, though he’d had to leave it with a doctor and wasn’t allowed to see him.

They couldn’t risk it. “They’re talking about a second wave,” you said as you wrapped your blanket tighter around you, pulling your knees up to your chest.  “They wanna start opening things in late May…  But it’s too early…  I…”  You swallowed thickly, your heart pounding against your rib cage.  “I’m so scared, Stevie.”

“Hey…”  There was nothing he wanted more than to be able to walk across the hall and take you into his arms.  “Whatever happens, you’ve got me.  You hear me?  We’re in this together, okay?  And we’re gonna make it.  We’re gonna make it because we gotta.”

That night, he waited for the lights to go out and for the nurses to switch over to the night shift.  A lot of the nurses weren’t as vigilant about taking care of them as the day shift, and he knew he could use that to his advantage.

He knew this was risky, but he had to do it.

Steve carefully got out of bed and dragged his monitor behind him, taking slow measured steps.  He’d waited about an hour after rounds, knowing that they wouldn’t be coming for another three.  It gave him plenty of time.  He tiptoed across the hall after ensuring that the coast was clear, slipping into your room.

The room was bathed in a soft blue light coming from the open curtains, a billboard outside flashing.  You looked so peaceful, finally asleep after tossing back and forth for hours.  The blue tones glistened against your soft skin.  You were so quiet that his eyes instinctively flickered over to the heart monitor, listening to the quiet beeping that reassured him that you were alive.

He wobbled the chair over to the side of your bed, being careful not to drag it so it didn’t squeak and alert a nurse or doctor.  When it was finally in place, he sunk into it with a relieved sigh.

Your nose scrunched up at the faint noise.

“Dollface,” he whispered as he gently caressed your cheek, his heart pounding.  This was the first time he’d ever gotten to touch you.  This was the first time he’d been close enough to even attempt it.

Your eyes fluttered open, blinking sleepily at him.  “Stevie?”

“Hey…,” he said softly as he traced the patterns of her face.  “It’s me…  Don’t worry…”

“What are you doing here?” You asked, her voice a hoarse whisper.  “We’re supposed to be—”

“I know,” he said as he gently scratched your scalp.  “But I’m worried…  And you need me.”

You slowly relaxed back against your pillow as your eyes searched his face.  He liked when you were soft like this.

Well, he liked you all the time, but still.  He liked you most when you were sleepy and relaxed.

“How are you feeling?”

With a shrug, you let your eyes close again.  “I don’t know…  I’ve been better.”  A sigh escaped your lips as you opened your eyes again, trying your best to not melt too far into him.  You didn’t want to fall asleep when this was the first time you’d gotten to feel him near.  “We’re lucky… Our cases aren’t as bad as what others are going through…”

That was true.  Others were on respirators, going into comas.  You two were lucky.

And he was so grateful for that.

“I was thinking…,” he murmured.

A snort.  “That’s never good.”

He gave you a look, raising his brows.  “Apparently people aren’t… completely better even after they’re cleared of the virus…,” he said.  He was watching your face carefully for any sign of a reaction.  “And I live alone.  And you said you have roommates but two of them are considered essential workers, which means there’s a risk of you getting it again…  And I was just thinking…”

“Yeah?...” You probed, sitting up a little.

“We’re gonna need someone to help us… without risking the others that we love, and I just…”  He coughed to clear his throat, his cheeks red.  “I was thinking maybe you could move in for a little while?  Maybe until all this has passed?  And we can… we can…”

Your eyes flickered over his face.  “We can take care of each other?”

Steve nodded, swallowing around the lump that had formed in his throat.  “Yeah.  We can take care of each other…  I’ll have your back and you’ll have mine.  And maybe it’s quick, but... ”

Can’t you feel it? He wanted to ask.  Can’t you feel this thing between us?  This connection that was found and fostered in possibly the darkest time of this generation’s existence?  This love that made me think that maybe there is a Grace in the world?  Because otherwise, how the hell would I have been able to find you?

But he knew that was probably a lot, even if the feeling he had when he looked at her was a little bit more than like.

“But… you barely know me.”

“That’s not true,” he breathed out quietly, a finger running down your jaw.  “I know about your family.  I know your first pet’s name and where it’s buried.  I know that you like white Christmas lights over rainbow because you like how it can look like snow if it’s done right.”

Tears were in your eyes, your cheeks flushed as you listened to him.

A smile crept up on his lips.  “I know you like the citrus flavored cough drops, and you have to sleep with a blanket on, even if it’s eighty degrees outside.  I know how much you love cheesy rom-coms and you can only watch horror movies at night because otherwise you’ll have nightmares.”  His forehead rested against hers, your noses brushing.  “I know you.  And I wanna take care of you.  When we get out of here, I don’t want to forget you.  I want to spend my life with you.  And maybe that’s too much too soon and more than a little cheesy, but—”

“Stevie…”  You were the one who leaned in first and pressed your lips to his, the salty taste of your tears mixing in with your peppermint chapstick.  “I’m not easy to take care of.  I’m even more stubborn when I’m feeling helpless like I am now…”

“That’s okay,” he said as he pecked your lips again, letting it linger.  The two of you knew that a nurse could come down the hall any second and catch you, but it didn’t matter.  You were together and you were alive.  “I don’t need easy.  I just need you.”

[barnesandrogersfanfics]

Baby Love - Part 9

A/N: OMG its been a while!

Hope your all doing okay 💕

This is just a chapter full of fluff im not gonna lie! 💕

Waking up the day after the premiere i dreaded looking at my phone so i just left it on the side and headed to the kitchen to make some breakfast. I wasn't ready to read all the hateful comments again, as long as i didn't look i could just pretend they didn't exist and enjoy my day with Chris. I switched on the radio and hummed along to the song on the radio as i started cooking the bacon and eggs, i actually felt pretty good.

Once breakfast was ready and i had fed Dodger i headed to the bedroom to wake Chris up, he'd had a few drinks last night and had slept like the dead!

"Hey babe.... wake up i made breakfast" i said leaning against the doorframe as i admired the naked man in front of me... he was laying face down hugging my pillow with the sheets just covering his ass. He cracked one eye and looked at me, a sleepy smile spreading across his face as he reached a hand out to me.

"Come back to bed" he mumbled.

"Nope, ive cooked breakfast its getting cold" i chuckled crossing my arms and waiting for him to get up.

"At least come and give me a kiss first"

"I forget how needy you get when your hungover..." i rolled my eyes shaking my head but took the few steps forward and took his hand. Chris pulled me closer and rolled onto his back with a wicked grin. As he pulled me onto the bed with him we both laughed before i leaned forward and gave him the kiss he wanted. I suddenly pulled back with wide eyes looking down at him, i saw the worry flashing over his face.

"What is it? Did i hurt you?" He sat up suddenly trying to work out what was wrong. I slowly shook my head before a smile spread on my face.

"The baby just kicked.... like a proper kick. Not just the little flutters i've been feeling....shit! it did it again!" I laughed grabbing Chris's hand and placing it on my stomach where id been feeling movement.

"I can't feel anything..." he said sadly shaking his head.

"Just wait.... give him a minute"

When the baby kicked again Chris's eyes went wide before he started laughing, excitement in his eyes as he brought his other hand up to cup my baby bump.

"Shit..... i felt that!"

"I told you!"

"That was something else....." he muttered staring at my bump his eyes tearing up, I leant forward pressing a kiss to his lips quickly.

"God i love you"

"I love you too. But come on, your son is hungry.... and mama needs sustenance" i laughed jumping up and rushing back out to the kitchen, i heard Chris laughing behind me and i turned round to catch him following me as he finished pulling on a pair of sweats.

"We're going back to bed after though right?" He asked catching up and wrapping his arms around me from behind.

"I think that can be arranged".

Scott had called around lunch time and Chris had obviously told him all about feeling the baby kicking..... half hour later Scott was at the door!

"Uncle Scott is here to feel the kicks!" He said sounding far too excited when he came bursting through the door.

"Sorry Uncle Scott but your nephew is not very active at the moment" i frowned rubbing a hand over my stomach.

"Thats fine i can wait..... i brought chinese" he smiled holding up the bag of take out, my eyes lit up instantly!

"Ooh did you get..."

"Yes! Of course i got you ribs! Do you take me for a fool??" He asked looking insulted that i would even consider he forgot the ribs.

"Your the best!" I beamed over at Scott suddenly overcome with hunger at the mention of ribs! "Hey babe?...."

"I'll get the pickles" Chris called back before i even asked making me laugh, i could just imagine the looks being exchanged between the brothers but i didn't care. Weird pregnancy cravings were the norm by now. A few seconds later Chris walked in with a plate of ribs, a few pickles on the side.... as soon as the smell reached me i felt the baby kick.

"Hey Scott.... your nephew is kicking!" I called out to Scott who was still plating up his food, be came running out and dramatically dived into the empty seat next to me.

"Hey! Be careful!" Chris scolded his brother shaking his head as he handed me the plate.

"Sorry but i didn't want to miss it again!"

"Give me your hand" i held my hand out for Scotts hand and placed it where i was feeling movement "okay just wait a minute......" i said casually as i tucked in to my food, a moan escaping at how good this food was!

"Jesus, you really like those ribs don't you?" Scott laughed.

"You cant even begin to imagine the satisfaction i get from this right now" i pointed to my plate "its even better than sex!"

"Hey!" Chris moaned looking at me like i spat in his food.

"Im not saying the sex is bad.... because wow i cant get enough of you..."

"Ewww" Scott grumbled making me and Chris laugh.

"Sorry Scotty! But its true!" I took a bite of my pickle and moaned again "honestly, you have no idea how good this is right now".

As if the baby was agreeing he gave a kick right where Scotts hand was resting, his eyes went wide for a few seconds then he was leaning closer talking to my bump, introducing himself as Uncle Scott promising to be the best uncle ever!

"Scott you do know the baby cant hear you" Chris rolled his eyes at his brother as he sat the other side of me.

"Of course he can! Babies can hear in the womb Chris and this baby is gonna know his Uncle Scotts voice!"

I looked at Chris smiling and shaking my head "his right, the baby can hear some stuff.... don't worry" i grabbed Chris's hand "he already knows your voice"

"You don't know that...."

"Sure i do, he moves more when you talk" i smiled "he knows his daddy's voice".

"Promise?"

"Promise".

We eventually finished eating and Scott was happy enough that he had felt the baby kicking. We were halfway through some movie the two of them chose when Scott looked up from his cell phone.

"How was your social media this morning after last night?"

"Not a clue.... i refused to look. I was in a good mood this morning , i didn't need to read all of those shitty comments....it stresses me out and thats no good for the baby....."

"You may be surprised, i've seen nothing but nice things being said. Obviously theres still the odd comment.... but most are saying how their happy for you both"

"Seriously....?" I looked over with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah"

"Wow..... i didn't expect that after the last time i was seen in public with you"

"Anything about the baby?" Chris asked his brother who shook his head.

"Funnily enough no one has mentioned it! Im surprised to be honest i thought they'd be all over that, you weren't exactly hiding that bump of yours"

"Maybe you should make an announcement before it gets out some other way...." i looked at Chris and ran a hand over my swollen belly.

"We can do that if your comfortable with it?...."

"Honestly i just want to be able to leave the house without worrying what i'm wearing, worrying that someone will see that i'm pregnant before we've had the chance to break the news ourselves....."

"Okay..... we'll sort something out".

At some point in the evening i must have fallen asleep because one minute i was watching the movie with Chris and Scott and the next i woke up in bed. The room was dim the only light coming from a lamp on Chris's side of the bed. He was laying close i could tell from his body heat, i was just about to turn to see if he was awake or not when he spoke, but he wasn't talking to me..... he was talking to the baby.

"Hey buddy..... i'm your dad....." he said quietly and i felt him gently stroke my stomach "god i suck at this...." he sighed "i just.... i guess i just wanna make sure you know me and that i love you and your mama so much. I promise i'm gonna take real good care of you both....."

"You already do take care of us" i said quietly reaching a hand up to run through his hair....he looked up at me looking a little embarrassed.

"You wasn't supposed to hear that"

"Are you really worried that the baby won't know who are?" I asked looking into those gorgeous blue eyes of his that i get lost in way too easy!

"Well i wasn't until Scott opened his big mouth but now its all i can think about"

"Chris i promise you your son knows your voice already......"

"How can you be sure?"

"He goes crazy whenever your around especially when your talking"

"He does?...."

"Yep" i smiled moving his hand over to the other side so he could feel the constant kicking currently going on.

"See!"

"Thats kinda crazy"

"I know right?..... so can you please turn off the light and come to bed im exhausted" i chuckled, Chris quickly kissed me and bent to drop a kiss on my baby bump before switching off the lamp. He got into bed pulling me against his chest, his hand spread on the bump and mumbled a goodnight.

"Goodnight.... we love you"

"I love you both too".

I fell asleep with a smile on my face thinking about how god damn sweet this man was and i couldn't help but think about what a great dad he was gonna be.

Baby Love tags: @jennmurawski13 @mybabyboytony @ms-betsy-fangirl @vampgirl1997 @ajosieface @afuckingshituniverse @chmedic @esoltis280 @southerngracela @bethabear12 @letsdisneythings @sellulii @patzammit @katiew1973 @princess-evans-addict @deidrahouseofpain @siren-queen03 @shipatheart @little-dark-empress @barnesandrogersworld @dumblani @xxloki81xx @jesseswartzwelder @lizzyclifford13-blog @booktease21

[nalgenewhore]

A rogue storm had her presumed dead and stranded on the red planet. Left on her own, astronaut Aelin Galathynius has four years to make it to the next drop-site, some two thousand miles. Armed with her smarts and dwindling supplies, Aelin attempts to survive on an inhospitable planet, when the nearest help is only millions of miles away.

masterlist - ao3 - last chapter - next chapter 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Rowan wasn’t breathing. Wasn’t doing anything but fighting against the tether as Aelin let go in every way possible.

Aelin was so tired. She was so gods-damned tired. “It’s ok, Ro, I’m ok-“

“Don’t let go, you can’t let go!” He couldn’t live without her. He’d done it for over a year and he couldn’t – refused to do it again. “You’re not letting go, Ae, don’t you dare let go.”

The comms were silent save for his yells and Aelin’s soft reassurance. The crew was sitting in a horrified silence as they listened, powerless to change her mind.

Nesryn’s gaze was locked on the computer screen, feeling queasy as the distance grew smaller and smaller. She didn’t want to interrupt Rowan’s concentration, but, “Distance to target – seven metres.”

She was so close, Aelin was so close and upon hearing the distance, she half-sobbed, keeping her arm reached out to Rowan as the tether slipped free and he blasted towards her, desperately reaching as their hands brushed against each other’s and she was in his arms seconds later. “Ro,” she croaked, smiling so widely as their helmets knocked together.

“Aelin,” he said, tears blurring his vision. “I got her.” Cheers erupted throughout the comms and Mission Control. “I got her.”

“Lochan, bring them in,” said Lorcan, a smile on his face that no one but Elide ever saw.

“Copy that, Commander.” The MMU moved backwards and Aelin clung harder to Rowan, closing her eyes as tears slipped down her cheeks and she smiled. It seemed the gods had finally answered her prayers.

Everyone was waiting in the inner airlock as they floated in. Aelin waved to them through the window as the outer door closed and Rowan helped her snap her helmet off. The door hissed and Elide was the first one to reach her, the others hanging back – letting the sisters have a minute. Lorcan could just make out Elide’s threats through her tears, “…ever do that shit again, I’ll kill you.”

Aelin laughed and groaned, “Don’t make me laugh, my ribs are broken.”

Elide let go of her, wiping the blonde’s tears away before the rest of the crew swarmed her, enveloping her in a snug hug, careful to not squeeze too hard. Nobody mentioned what Rowan had confessed, just so unbelievably happy to have their girl back.

Nobody knew how long it was until they reluctantly let go and moved as one to the medical bay, waiting anxiously as Rowan checked her out. With a smile, he lifted his head, letting the stethoscope down, “You’re good, Ace. Ribs are broken and I’ll set you up with an IV and might need a feeding tube to replenish the calories you’re missing, but you’re good.”

The crew let out a relieved breath and Rowan relayed the information to Manon. Aelin waggled her brows at Lorcan and Elide, who were standing by the door. Elide was leaning back against Lorcan’s front, his hands in the front pocket of her hoodie. “So, is there going to be mini Lorcan or Elide at the wedding?”

Elide groaned, their sex life was something the crew had always loved to tease them about, “Anneith below, why did we come back for you?” Lorcan just winked at Aelin and bent down to whisper to Elide, nipping at the soft shell of her ear. Her cheeks turned pink as she elbowed him in the stomach as a response, “You’re disgusting. Both of you.” A sly grin grew over her lips as Aelin and the rest of the crew cackled.

Rowan chuckled and knelt, searching for a roll of gauze to wrap her ribs. “You’re gonna need to strip, so…” he arched a brow and she nodded.

“Bye, guys,” she told the rest of the crew. They all got up from their various positions and waved goodbye to her, hesitant to leave, as if she would slip away again. “I’ll be fine. Go,” she shooed them away, smiling softly as they left and the door clicked shut behind them.

Silent as he worked, Rowan ignored the feeling of her gaze burning into him as he wrapped her ribs, “How’s that feel?”

Aelin breathed in slowly, it was snug. “Good, really sore still.”

“If it’s still sore later, let me know, I can get you-“

“You love me?”

Her words had him choking and looking up from the IV he was preparing. “I-I…”

“I heard you, buzzard. Was it a lie to get me to hold on?” A heartbreaking light fractured her eyes and Rowan cursed himself, quick to shake his head.

“What? Gods, no, it wasn’t a lie, Ae.” He floundered, searching for the right words, “I know… we didn’t always get along very well and I was an ass, but I love you.” He waited for her response, tensing as he prepared to hear the worst. When she stayed silent, his brain short wired and he began rambling, “I’ve loved you for years, Aelin. Gods, you drive me crazy and sometimes I didn’t know if I wanted to kill you  or kiss you because you’re you. You’re the smartest person I know and you’re completely unapologetic for it. You’re curious. You want to know everything about the world and I-“

She stopped him by pressing her fingers to his mouth, “Shut up.” His stomach fell at the two words before she whispered, “I love you. So much.”

“You do?”

“Most ardently, Rowan Whitethorn.” Tears were caught in her lashes and he gently cupped her face, swiping his thumb under her eye to catch the drops.

“Why do you cry, Fireheart?” Aelin fell further every time he called her that.

“Because I was lost and I didn’t know the way.”

“And now?” He leaned down to rest his forehead against hers, the tip of her nose cold against his.

“I’ve been found.” And never to be lost again. He would follow her to the ends of the universe and whatever they found after it.

 +*+*+*+*+*+*

“Stop staring at me,” Aelin said, already tired of everyone’s mothering. She slowly chewed on her pasta, using most of her energy to keep it down. “I’m fine.”

When she snapped her head up, glaring at everyone, they all held her gaze, arching their brows as if to say she’d have to try harder than that. Lorcan laughed quietly, “Can you really blame us? You can barely keep your plain noodles down.” Rowan shot him a look and Lorcan read what was happening, a satisfied gleam entering his dark eyes. “Ah. Well, not to be blunt or anything but gods above, fucking finally.”

Fenrys and Elide hooted. Nesryn was able to control herself more and smiled fondly, as if they were children, nodding once and returning to her meal.

Rowan near growled and his brother just cocked his head to the side and smirked, “At least we didn’t bet on it.” Elide turned in his lap and smacked his chest, glaring at him. He just shrugged, Am I wrong? 

“You’re awful, all of you,” Rowan seethed, calming as Aelin patted his knee. He gave her a secret smile and then blushed when she returned it, lifting her hand and kissing the back of her knuckles.

“Oh good gods, my eyes! Premarital affection!” Fenrys cried out, grabbing Nesryn’s hand to cover his eyes. 

Everyone promptly ignored him and smiled softly to themselves, exchanging amused glances at Aelin and Rowan’s expense.

After dinner, they all lingered, explicitly rejecting Aelin’s request that they ‘cease and desist being overprotective mother hens’. Finally, Aelin bluntly told them to leave before she started kicking ass and they all dispersed, humouring her. She watched her sister and commander leave together, no longer feeling that same aching sense in her chest. 

Lorcan tugged Elide along, whispering low enough that Aelin couldn’t hear it. Elide gave him a fond look, tangling her fingers in his and pulling him behind her, their joyful laughter floating along as they disappeared from view. 

Aelin turned, spying Rowan a little ways away, watching her. “What?” 

“Nothing,” he replied smoothly, finally making his way over to her. Rowan rolled his eyes when she lifted her arms and he scooped her up, holding her against his chest as he walked to the couch and sat down. 

Her eyes were begging to be closed but still she kept them open, tracking over Rowan’s face as he gazed out the windows. Eventually, he slid his gaze to her, a brow quirked up. “What?” 

She shook her head, her throat tight, “I just… I would have these dreams that you were right there with me. And we were so happy-” her breath hitched and he opened his mouth to tell her he didn’t need to hear this right now but she needed to tell him this. “We were so happy and then I would wake up and not be able to sleep again because I thought I would never get to tell you that I love you.”

A tear escaped her eye and slid down her cheek as she slid her fingers across his face, feeling the contours of his features, the smoothness of tattoo ink. “You’re real.” 

Rowan nodded, tracing a comforting pattern over her side, “I am.” 

His eyes were like liquid emeralds as she met his gaze and tilted her chin up, so soft as she brushed her lips against his. Rowan sucked in a sharp breath as she pulled away, still close enough to touch his lips if either of them spoke. 

Aelin didn’t know how long they had been trapped in that moment until his lips were on hers again, gentle and tender, but strong, full. A gasp escaped her as she gave into the feeling, her long lashes brushing against his cheeks as her eyes fluttered shut. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, using every ounce of strength in her weak body to hold herself to him as their lips moved against each other’s. When his tongue traced the seam of her mouth, she opened for him, tasting his soft groan at the first brush of her tongue against his. 

Kissing him was like a breath of fresh air, the first real breath she’d inhaled since the rescue. Aelin still wasn’t convinced, was sure that if she moved too quickly, it would all disappear. Again. 

But it was real, the feeling of his hair tangled in her hands grounding her to the moment as she threatened to float away. 

Somebody coughed and they broke apart, chests heaving, gazes wide and pupils dilated. Aelin looked over Rowan’s shoulder, spying Lorcan and Fenrys standing there. “What, in Hellas’ cold and dark realm, do you want?” 

“Oh, nothing, just in the communal area, getting some tea before bed, don’t mind us” Lorcan replied, a shit-eating grin on his face. He took one step forward and smirked at the look on Rowan’s face as he turned to glare at Lorcan and Fenrys. “On second thought, it’s late, probably not a good idea to have caffeine. Have fun, you two.” 

“But not too much fun,” Fenrys yelled as they left, snickering the entire way. They were almost gone when Lorcan’s wolf whistle pierced the air and he howled, the sounds amplified by Fenrys’ roaring laughter. 

“We’re surrounded by animals,” Rowan muttered, his frown melting as Aelin smiled at him. “I hate them.” 

He pressed his forehead against hers, kissing away the tears that streaked down her cheeks. She only cried harder, “Buzzard.”

“Fireheart.”

+*+*+*+*+*+*

an: see! i told you it would all work out 💛 nine chapters down, one to go! 

@mythicaitt​ @tinywolfofeyllwe​ @schmlip-scribble​ @the-regal-warrior​ @westofmoon​ @empire-of-wildfire​ @rhysands-highlady​ @city-of-fae​ @shyvioletcat​ @alifletcher2012​ @tangledraysofsunshine​ @ttakeitbacknoww​ @tswaney17​ @ourbooksuniverse​ @flora-and-fae​ @thesirenwashere​ @queenofxhearts​ @that-other-pineapple​ @sleeping-and-books​ @superspiritfestival​ @faerie-queen-fireheart​ @chemicha​ @rowaelin-cressworth​ @mynewdreamwasyou​ @candid-confetti​ @bat-wing-rhys​ @the-reading-obsessed-stitchbear​ @feyrethedarklady​ @booklover41802​ @rowaelinforeverworld​ @jamesxdaisy​ @julemmaes​ @hellas-himself​ @kayjaybea​ @ghostlyrose2​ @but-she-was-aelin-galathynius​ @queen-of-glass​ @can-dreamers-be-lost-too​ 

[aeirithgainsborough]

very Important adam/ronan things to take away from the cdth sampler:

“like the other lynch brothers, he was a regular churchgoer, but most people assumed he played for the other team.” i am SCREAMING. top tier gay joke. well timed.

everyone: ronan’s eyes aren’t pretty. adam: mhmm  e y e l a s h e s

much to say about the revelation that ronan is partly at the barns to keep his dreams hidden and in check, and how much he relates an inability to change and be like everyone else to having to stay there. almost like he’s stuck huh! i’ve been saying!!

of note that words used to describe ronan’s existence are BORED and MALINGERED.

fingers crossed he finds some balance between his dreams and his wants/needs that allows him to leave the barns and grow but after the Great Crab Disaster I’M WORRIED.

fire imagery EVERYWHERE. i’m WORRIED again.

“there are stains that spread faster than you drive. if you drive, it’ll take fourteen years to get there. seventeen. forty. one hundred. we’ll be driving to your funeral by the end.” good to know ronan is still the most DRAMATIC boy in the whole of virginia. absolutely no chill.

dont like the possible foreshadowing of that driving to your funeral by the end, though. must leave lynches alone!

“it’s very safe” asjkajjka DECLAN PLEASE 

“ronan kicked one of the volvo’s tires” asjkajjka RONAN PLEASE. 

ronan trying to act nonchalant by cramming chocolate covered peanuts into his mouth and choking a little is Peak Disaster Gay. 

matthew’s music must be awful if ronan and declan are in agreement over it, must have playlist. 

ronan who lives to pretend he doesn’t care wondering if his brothers didn’t say anything about his moving because it didn’t make a difference to them is huhhh. don’t like it, take it away pls.

i’m sorry, ENTIRELY WRAPPED UP IN! ENTIRELY! 

entirely

wrapped

up

in

shut up!!!! shut upppppp! 

“is there any version of you that could come with me to cambridge?” tbh nothing would have readied me for this. adam i-can-do-everything-alone asking ronan if he could go with him. so much growth, too much pride, nowhere to put it, send help.

the fact that ronan doesn’t stay in cambridge when he visits adam because of plausible deniability, that if he doesn’t try there’s no evidence he can’t make it there. rip. 

ronan! missed! him! like! a! lung! 

dramatic again, but entirely relatable bc damn, same ronan, same. 

a) ronan thinking about how his heartbeat is the same as everyone else’s so he wasn’t that different and b) JUST LIKE ADAM’S HEART WHEN HIS HEAD WAS RESTING ON HIS HEAD = much too much to think about. need to lie down for a bit.

he could move to follow the guy he loved!! we all knew it was love, we’ve always known it was love, but! the words. the words!!!!! brb sobbing.

i have only had jordan for a day and a half but if anything happened to her i would kill everyone in this room and then myself. 11/10 would marry.

art forgery plot confirmed!

THIS WAS HOW IT HAD BEGUN

bitch fkajdkajksja GIVE ME A WARNING. 

still can’t compose myself RE the info that ronan saw adam and immediately sent a desperate prayer up to god 

will the word please ever be the same again? definitely not!

adam’s arms adam’s hands his lovely! boyish! hands!

the description of his expressions with all its contradictions and multitudes is just my favourite thing ever. it encapsulates everything i love about adam fucking parrish.

and the fact that ronan instantly recognised all those multitudes in him. there was always a level of understanding ronan had for adam throughout trc that no one else did and this tells us he had that before he even met him, he just... recognised something in him i just... ;______; 

please 

ronan knowing all the harvard stats because he was the person adam could crow to, how he takes on that adam that is still full of contradictions and multitudes, how he finds it hard but he absorbs all the facts and all of adam’s anxieties, even in the face of his own anxieties about adam leaving and falling in love with the shining, educated people that ronan thinks are better than him. that absolute, unwavering support 😭😭😭

tbh there’s a whole ass lot to unpack in this section so imma try and do it briefly (she says!)

ronan lynch is a romantic cdth confirmed: 

he could have texted adam but he liked the soft surprise of it

over the past few days ronan had played his reunion with adam over in his head MANY TIMES

adam i love you but that outfit sounds awful. you are a student, it’s a friday night, put some sweats on and stuff some cheetos in your mouth. 

the sweet nervousness of their reunion, how they walk past each other and both seem so uncertain. they’re a year into dating and the still get nervous and unsure after a few weeks apart and it’s CUTE and definitely speaks to their excitement/anticipation levels.

THE WATCH. big time softness. 

they hugged hard ;_____; 

im just so relieved that they’re allowed to touch each other and be intimate and aren’t consigned to the ‘boys in love aren’t like that boring boring’ corner. 

the way ronan thinks about how adam fits as he remembered. huh. you’re really gonna do this to me.

his hand still pressed against the back of ronan’s skull the way it ALWAYS did when they hugged. 

you smell like home. you smell like home!!!!!! brb ive gone absolutely fucking feral. 

i both want to play repo because it sounds fun and don’t want to because it sounds complicated and i fucking hate instructions. much confusion. 

adam pressing his shoe hard against ronan’s and then his leg and then breathing in ronan’s ear I AM HOWLING. ronan’s nerve endings being made a marvel of I AM SOBBING. it’s very important that m/m ships are afforded the same level of explicit attraction as m/f (and i don’t mean explicit as in nsfw, i mean as in obvious)

no offence because i love them but all of adam’s friends sound Extra™

“to the outside eye, ronan lynch was a loser” pls ronan, you are giving me an ulcer.

scary spice i asjkjdkjskdjak

queer crying club! i stan!!

also adam saying in the epilogue of trk that he wanted to save all the adam’s hidden in plain view and then going to college and scooping up all the criers and giving them something to do is far too much to handle.

don’t think about that and the time he thought about how he used to spend his nights crying on the trailer steps and wondering why he bothered until gansey came along and offered him friendship. dont think about how he’s essentially paying that forward DON’T THINK ABOUT IT.

hand holding, arms around each other, hip to hip walking, can’t wait anymore kissing, I MISSED YOU. love that for me! 

but also the fact that adam reaches down for ronan’s hand and its so natural. ronan’s hand is there so he just. takes it. 

hearing ronan’s thoughts on what happened with robert at last is A Lot. the way it’s still happening, always happening, kept fresh and savage shows how affected ronan was by it all and still is and i think its so important that he’s not just. angry and hot headed. there’s more to it than that. its painful, it makes him feel sick, its unending and it really speaks to how much adam means to him. 

adam thinks he has no one BITCH YOU’VE GOT ALL OF US. 

and ronan. 

but. how he feels like he has nothing still. the way his voice hitches on ‘because’ because it’s all still so painful. i wanna wrap him up. i wanna take everything that hurts away. i wanna tell him he’s so loved. guess i’ll just have to sit back and watch him work his way through it all I GUESS. no but i am looking forward to his growth in this trilogy, especially considering how much he’s grown already. adam parrish invented character growth lets 👏 be 👏 real 👏

it had never been a fight between them/it was a fight between adam and himself, between adam and the world/for ronan it was a fight between truth and compromise, between the black and white he saw and the reality everyone else experienced. i LOVE this. it so well encapsulates them. and it’s so important that they can realise their differing world views and their complexities and meet in the middle somewhere.

“ronan put his lips on adam’s deaf ear, and he hated adam’s father” FUCK ME UP. my absolute favourite bit 103930%. absolute incoherent mess over here. not! okay! see other post for more coherency because i only had it for 5.7 minutes. 

frowning, guarded, crumpled adam who i’ll literally. never be over in all of my life. 38983/10 will love him until the end of time. 

i want it too much. !!!!!! going feral again over here. WHAT DO YOU WANT ADAM? I WANT IT TOO MUCH. definitely will never shut up about this. 

scared adam is going to be a visionary so pretending chapter 6 doesn’t exist. 

LINDENMERE ;________;

i love it already

i CANNOT believe that ronan is being dream invaded and challenged and he’s over here like hmm nice bike ELEGANT and ROUGH and READY like ADAM asjkasj please ronan you are so embarrassing!! 

also. ronan thinks adam is elegant and rough and ready so! there’s that!

i literally. cannot. cope with the HILARITY of chapter 8. the whole thing is a complete and utter DISASTER. it’s absolutely gone off in adam’s room after all his work at constructing a well put together boy. ronan comes for a night and everything goes BONKERS. amazing. 

(really worried about what this means RE ronan being able to exit the barns and grow and change and not be bored and not feel like a loser so we’re focusing on the hilarious disaster of it all.)

p.s. adam sleeping slotted between ronan and the wall OKAY. THIS IS FINE! 

p.p.s. adam’s bed hair is WILD. 

p.p.p.s i have missed adam and ronan so so so so so much and im an emotional fucking wreck

[somekindoftuber]

vld YouTuber AU (klance, part 8)

(content warning for this chapter: medical stuff, surgery, hospitals)

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven

(full disclosure that I am not a medical professional! I did some research but some things might be off but it’s fiction so just, uh. go with it)

-----

Waiting had never been so hard.

Lance had given the nurses as much info as he could before he was asked to move his car into the parking lot. He barely remembered doing so, quickly returning to the ER waiting room to sit in a chair and try not to break down. He’d called Shiro eight times. No response. He’d call Allura if he had her number, but he didn’t. No one was picking up at the Holt household, either - they were probably at work. Lance sent a frantic “call me asap!!” text to Shiro and then hung his head. He didn’t know how long he was sitting there when his phone buzzed in his hand.

Hunk hey man everything okay? the stream was supposed to start almost an hour ago

Oh god. The stream. Lance had forgotten all about it. He opened twitter to see his notifications blowing up, so many comments that he couldn’t even read them all. It didn’t matter, because they were all some variation of “where is the stream??” and Lance absolutely did not have it in him to do damage control right now.

Lance! @lanceylance stream cancelled due to emergency

Then he closed twitter, dropped his phone into his lap, and put his head in his hands. This had to be a nightmare. He’d stressed himself out over Keith’s visit and was just having a bad dream. Wake up, please wake up.

His phone vibrated. Lance snatched it up - the screen read Hunk’s number. Hunk was calling him. He almost dropped his phone in his haste to answer.

“Lance,” Hunk’s voice came through the speaker at his ear, tinny and distant. “What’s going on? What emergency? Why did you cancel the stream?”

“Hunk.” Lance felt his eyes sting as tears welled up in them, blurring his vision. “It’s Keith. He - he was fine and then he suddenly looked like he was dying, I brought him to the ER, I had to carry him in --” he cut off with a sob. So much for not crying in public.

“Which hospital?”

Lance sniffled loudly. “S-saint Joseph’s, the one on Candler street.”

“Stay there,” Hunk commanded. “I’m on my way.”

Lance could only whimper a confirmation before hanging up.

Someone called his name at some point. He had no idea how long he’d been sitting there, staring at the floor, his face itchy with drying tears. Lance looked up to find a nurse walking straight towards him, and immediately stood.

“Lance McClain?” she asked. “You brought in Keith Kogane, right?”

“Yes,” Lance’s throat went tight and he struggled not to panic. “Is he gonna be okay?”

“Have you been able to contact his family?”

God, why couldn’t she just answer his question? “Not- not yet. I’ve been trying to reach his brother.”

She nodded, looking at the chart on her clipboard. “Your friend’s appendix burst. He’s being prepped for surgery now.”

“Oh my god,” it came out as an exhale. Lance felt hot tears sliding down his cheeks.

The nurse gave him a little smile. “Easy, he’s going to be fine. You got him here quickly, so the danger of sepsis has been minimized.”

Going to be fine. Keith was going to be fine. Lance heaved a breath and sat back down.

He spent the next hour twirling his phone in his sweaty hands. He was hungry and thirsty and the shitty ER waiting room chair was making his ass fall asleep, but he didn’t want to move. He wanted to see Keith, see with his own eyes that he was alive. But Keith was in surgery. A burst appendix, that was - that was really bad, wasn’t it? You could die from that, couldn’t you? No, she said Keith would be fine. They wouldn’t just lie to him, would they?

“Lance!”

He looked up to see Hunk rounding a corner, heading straight for him. Lance leaped to his feet and let Hunk wrap him up in a warm hug, sinking into his friend.

“I gotcha, buddy,” Hunk murmured into his hair. “I gotcha.”

“His appendix burst,” Lance told him, his voice wavering and cracking. “He’s in surgery.”

Hunk guided him back to a chair and sat beside him. “Breathe, Lance, breathe. He’s in good hands, this is one of the best hospitals in the state.” Hunk was rubbing a hand up and down Lance’s spine. “He’ll be fine.”

Lance nodded. Hunk always knew exactly what to say, what to do, how to keep anyone calm in a crisis. He led Lance to the bathrooms so he could wash his face, then bought him a sports drink and a bag of granola bites from a vending machine. Lance couldn’t stand the thought of eating, but managed to choke down some of it anyway.

“Better?” Hunk asked, taking the half empty drink from Lance’s hands and capping it.

“Yeah.”

Lance sat in silence as exhaustion began to set in. He heard Hunk call Pidge and explain what happened, but she was four hours away at a conference. Hunk was promising to take care of Lance for her. Was he really that pitiful?

Yeah. Yeah he was.

His heart went into overdrive when his phone rang, Shiro’s name on the screen.

“Lance,” Shiro sounded even more panicked than Hunk had. “What’s wrong?”

He was so tired, the drop off of adrenaline leaving Lance woozy as he explained what happened to Shiro. On the other end of the line, Shiro let out a long breath.

“I’m coming up,” he said, his voice hard. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Keep me posted.”

Lance sat in the chair with Hunk for another hour. Other people in the waiting room came and went, the setting sun that streamed through the windows painting the carpet gold. Lance could have passed out where he sat, if it wasn’t for the swift steps coming his way.

A tall man in scrubs with his hair covered by a surgeon’s cap was coming towards them. Lance stood so quickly that his phone and sports drink hit the floor.

“Keith?” Lance asked, the only word he could get out.

The surgeon nodded. “He’s out of surgery. Everything looks good, he should make a full recovery.”

Hunk had to reach out and catch Lance as he swayed, his knees threatening to give out.

“Have you been able to reach any of his family?”

Hunk answered for Lance, who probably wouldn’t have been able to speak if he tried. “His brother is on the way, but he lives on the other side of the state, so it’s gonna be a few more hours until he gets here.”

After they both gave detailed contact info to the receptionist, Hunk convinced Lance to go home and rest. He’d wanted to see Keith, but Lance wasn’t family, so he was denied. Hunk sent detailed texts to Shiro and Pidge about what happened, then loaded Lance into his car and drove them back to the apartment. Lance’s car would just have to sit in the hospital parking lot for a while.

Once home, Hunk had him shower and change his clothes, then practically dragged Lance to the couch, arranging him so that Lance’s head rested in Hunk’s lap. Lance fell asleep quickly as Hunk combed fingers through his hair.

He didn’t dream of anything, and before he even realized he was asleep, Hunk was shaking him awake.

“Hey, Shiro is almost here. I told him to meet us at the hospital.”

Hunk drove them back, street lights flashing over Lance’s face as they went, the sky now pitch black. They were in the ER waiting room for all of ten minutes before Shiro came bursting in like a tornado, going straight for the reception desk and asking about Keith.

“Shiro!” Hunk and Lance ran up to him. Shiro turned to them and he looked like hell, his eyes bloodshot and lined with dark circles. He didn’t say anything before reaching out and pulling Lance into a tight hug. Lance just hugged back.

With Shiro present, they were allowed to see Keith, and Lance’s heart was once again in his throat as a nurse led him and Shiro down a long hallway. Hunk offered to stay behind. They found a room and Lance gasped, because there was Keith. Dressed in a hospital gown, propped up on pillows, an oxygen tube in his nose and several cords sticking out of the collar of the flimsy garment. An IV was dripping into a needle stuck in the back of his hand, a paper bracelet on his wrist. A heart monitor next to him was beeping steadily as his chest rose and fell in a gentle rhythm.

Shiro was already at the side of the bed, so Lance numbly followed. Keith’s skin was ashen, dark circles under his eyes, his hair tangled and dull.

“Keith?” Shiro called softly, setting a hand on his shoulder. “Keith, can you hear me?”

Keith’s eyelids fluttered before opening, drawing a lazy path to his brother’s face. “Sh...shir..o?” His voice was shredded.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

Blinking, Keith seemed to wake up a little more, looking around the room. His eyes landed on Lance and lingered, and Lance smiled at him.

“Hey there, good lookin’.”

The corners of Keith’s mouth turned upward, just a tiny bit.

“Hi.”

Lance let Shiro talk to Keith, who was still pretty out of it - he was probably on some pretty strong pain meds. Reaching out, Lance indulged himself in petting Keith’s hair, smoothing it away from his temple. The roaring hot fever was gone, and Lance breathed a heavy sigh.

Keith nodded off again in the middle of a sentence. Shiro just laughed.

By then it was well past midnight. After talking with the doctors, Lance rode with Shiro back to his apartment while Hunk drove his own car. It wasn’t the setup he’d planned, but the pullout couch was ready with clean sheets, so Shiro brought in the tiny bookbag he’d packed and got ready for bed. Hunk went for Pidge’s room, apparently having already asked her permission. Lance collapsed into his bed, having barely managing to brush his teeth before passing out.

-----

Lance’s alarm went off at seven as it always did, and he snorted awake, groggy and disoriented. He stumbled into the living room, and it wasn’t until he saw Shiro asleep on the sofa bed that he remembered what happened.

Keith was in the hospital. His chest ached as he made a pot of coffee. It was enough to wake up Shiro, who sat up and rubbed at his eyes. Hunk came out of Pidge’s room a few minutes later, and went straight for the kitchen and found the waffle iron.

After blueberry waffles and coffee, Lance let Shiro shower first so he and Hunk could return Keith’s rental car. Shiro had apparently borrowed Mrs Holt’s sedan for the five hour drive, and Lance couldn’t blame him. He’d been in Shiro’s old truck, the shocks were almost non-existent.

Lance showered and dressed, then went to the hospital. He was directed to a different waiting room this time, so he texted Shiro and Hunk to let them know where to go. Hunk had to get back home as soon as he could, so he stayed just long enough to give Lance a tight hug, then he was gone. Shiro and Lance were led to another room where Keith was staying for the next few days to recover from surgery. He was awake this time, though groggy.

They chatted a little, then Shiro left to use the restroom - or at least that’s what he said, but given how he’d shot Lance a knowing smile, it was probably a pretense. Lance went to Keith’s bedside and leaned his face into his hair. He wanted so much to hug him, but he was still hooked up to all sorts of machines, wires and cords everywhere.

Keith patted his arm. “Sorry about the stream.”

Laughing, Lance snuggled his nose against Keith’s scalp. He smelled like sweat and plastic and hospital antiseptic, but he didn’t care. Keith was okay.

“It’s fine.” He frowned. “I mean, I think. I haven’t checked twitter since yesterday.”

Keith laughed softly. “Your followers are probably pissed.”

“I should probably tweet something.” Lance took out his phone. “What should I say? I won’t tell the internet what happened if you don’t want me to.”

Keith shrugged, a dopey smile on his face. “I don’t care. Post a photo of me all wired up if you want.”

“You sure that’s not the pain meds talking?”

Keith laughed again, then put a hand over his stomach, wincing. “Probably.”

As carefully as he could, Lance sat next to Keith and put an arm around his shoulder, then opened his photo app and set it to the front-facing camera. He leaned into Keith’s hair, smiling when Keith leaned back and gave a weak peace sign with the hand that had the IV and heart monitor cuff.

Lance snapped the photo, then showed Keith, who smiled and leaned back on his pillows. “Tell twitter I said ‘I lived, bitch.’”

It was hard not to laugh as Lance carefully composed the tweet, attaching the photo of himself and Keith.

Lance! @LanceyLance Hey everyone, sorry for the cancelled stream yesterday. About an hour before we were going to start, Keith’s appendix decided to go out in a blaze of glory, so we ended up in the ER instead. He’s out of surgery and on the mend! He wants me to tell you all: “I lived, bitch.”

Lance hit ‘tweet,’ then pocketed his phone.

-----

Keith spent another two days in the hospital.

Lance and Shiro visited several times a day. Keith became more lucid, though as the pain meds were tapered off, he looked more uncomfortable. Once he learned the details of Keith’s surgery, Lance understood how serious it was - they really had to slice into him to clean out where his appendix had burst. It would take a month to heal completely.

When Keith was discharged, he was carefully loaded into the back of Lance’s car and driven back to the apartment. He wasn’t cleared for long distance travel yet, so he’d be hanging out here for another three days. He could barely walk on his own, still stitched up and sore, so it took both Lance and Shiro to get him into the apartment and to Lance’s room. They carefully hoisted Keith onto Lance’s bed and propped him up on the pile of pillows that was prepared for him.

“I’ll get you some water,” Shiro said, then left.

In the quiet of the bedroom, Lance carefully sat on the edge of the bed and observed Keith. Some of the color had returned to his cheeks, though his eyes were still lined with dark circles. His hair was visibly oily, as was his skin - major surgery meant no showering. Lance had been there once.

“You’re staring.”

Lance snapped out of his trance to find Keith’s barely-open eyes trained on him, a tiny smile on his lips.

“Sorry,” Lance laughed softly. “You just… kinda gave me a scare.”

“Didn’t mean to.”

Reaching out, Lance took one of Keith’s hands and gave it a little squeeze. “Sorry this weekend turned sour.”

Keith shook his head, resting his other hand on his stomach, over the place where the surgery bandages still sat. “It’s not your fault. I’m pretty sure my appendix would still have exploded if I’d stayed home.”

Lance frowned. “I still feel bad.”

“Don’t.”

“But--”

Keith opened his eyes, tugging on where their hands were laced together. “Lance.” He kept pulling until Lance was forced to lean forward, planting his other hand on the mattress to support his weight. Keith’s other hand came up to cradle Lance’s cheek, pulling him in, and--

Keith kissed him.

It was soft and slow and Keith was kissing him, just a gentle press of lips, and Lance couldn’t even care that Keith hadn’t showered in days because his lips were soft and warm. Inhaling through his nose, Lance leaned into it, letting Keith hold him in place.

When they broke apart with a tiny smack, Lance hovered, lightheaded. Keith just grinned at him and settled back in his pillow nest with a sigh.

Lance’s heart was about to burst out of his chest. “Oh,” he breathed, stopping to lick his lips. “That’s not fair.”

“Sorry, I know I’m kinda gross right now,” Keith said, not opening his eyes. “But in my defense, I was planning on doing that this weekend anyway. I just got delayed.”

Straightening his spine, Lance raised an eyebrow. “Oh, were you now?”

“Mm-hmm.” Keith shifted in place a bit. “Now get over here and sit with me.”

Lance obeyed, climbing up to curl against the side of the pillow nest, reaching for the TV remote. He was intensely glad to have a queen sized bed, flicking on the TV and finding the Disney Channel. He had a shift at work tomorrow, but Shiro was staying to take care of Keith.

-----

Three days later, Keith was loaded into Colleen Holt’s borrowed sedan, finally cleared to make the five hour drive home.

It had been a very, very strange three days. Keith had pretty much lived in Lance’s bed, rarely moving. Shiro had to help him to the bathroom, help him take little psuedo-baths (he couldn’t shower for another week until the stitches healed) and change his clothes, and Keith could only eat soup and soft things. But overall, he seemed in high spirits, asking Lance to bring in his laptop and play Overwatch so Keith could spectate. Pidge came home from her conference, giving Lance one of the most intense hugs he’d ever had.

Keith had complained about feeling gross, especially his hair, so Lance had run to the pharmacy to grab a can of unscented dry shampoo. Although he was skeptical, Keith let Lance use it on him, spraying his scalp and combing it through his now thoroughly greasy hair. It worked a fair amount, and it gave Lance an excuse to play with Keith’s hair.

Now that it was over and Keith was heading home, Lance was going to miss him. A lot. He’d gotten used to having him close at all times, and he enjoyed sleeping next to Keith in the same bed more than he was willing to admit. Lance gave a fleeting thought to the Springdale Community College enrollment website and smiled.

“Have a safe drive,” Lance said, leaning into the car where Keith was buckled into the passenger seat and giving him a little peck on the lips.

Keith grinned. “Thanks, I’ll text you when we’re home.”

As they drove off, Lance put his hand to his chest and let out a long breath, watching it turn into a puff of white in the freezing early December air.

.

TO BE CONTINUED!!

[evien-stark]

✧I Need You✧ Chapter 107

Tony was more hurt than he let on, which meant you had yet another choice to make- or rather, a promise to honor. So it was Sam who led the charge on finding Steve who had gone completely radio silent as the last of the helicarriers plummeted into the river. You made a call ahead to Happy, while you were struggling in the uncertainty, to ask him to meet you at the hospital. And it was an hour later- a whole sixty excruciating minutes, when you had just loaded a battered, bruised, broken, bloody- and obviously concussed Tony into the back of an ambulance, out of his suit, that Sam finally spoke. 

“Found him. He’s on the riverbank a mile south.” 

The doors of the ambulance closed and you rode off, hand in Tony’s as he drifted, something in his IV for the pain. You put your other one to your ear. “Condition?” You knew every one of your teammates was listening in. You were just the first one to ask. 

“Rough. But. Not dead. His shield is missing, too. If that matters.” 

Tony murmured a response in a daze, “Probably at the… bottom of the river- we’ll have Damage Control fish it out-” 

Setting a hand over his forehead in a gentle caress, you tried to urge some peace over him. “It’s alright, just relax.” 

He eased almost immediately, eyes fluttering closed as a long breath escaped him. “I love you…” 

It was strategic- not petty (you told yourself) that you made sure the ambulance was taking you to a hospital outside of SHIELD’s network. Already your phone was blowing up- Ellis. Not a good sign. There was no telling what the other side of all of this was going to look like. It might have served you to not ignore him, but… Tony was more important. It was hard to focus on anything else. Especially yourself. You were damaged, too, and tired. Ready to lie down for a long ten hours in a dark room but… 

Tony needed you. That was what really mattered. So you waved off the EMTs and told them to stay focused on him. As he fell further into a light doze just as they took him off the stretcher and into the hospital, you coordinated with the team to get everyone down to the same place, while they stitched and bandaged him up. There was no doubt in your mind that everyone needed some sort of medical attention- Steve most of all, it seemed like. 

Sam had said rough, but when you finally saw him in his own private hospital room, he looked like he’d been beaten nearly to death. In his unconsciousness, as you stood in the doorway, you felt the tremors of deep sorrow. Pain that went beyond physical. It was hard to face him. Hard to look at him. What had stopped that monster from killing him, you wondered. Clearly he’d been seconds from doing it. Maybe it was a simple explosion that took the whole helicarrier down. Maybe he’d beaten Steve into unconsciousness and assumed throwing him into a large body of water would finish him off.

...maybe Steve had hung in there and not died long enough to prove his point. Who could say. All you knew was something drastic had become of all of this. Steve had some different deep facet of him now that had had you two quarreling. It might not have been the best for you to hang around.

Sam was sitting at his bedside, the entire time that he’d been brought in, even as you stood there, and you knew he’d continue to sit there, still, until Steve regained consciousness. “You’re okay here?” Asking as you crossed your arms. Defensively. Feeling a sense of unease looking at the man lying in that bed. 

“Yeah. Don’t worry about him. Go do your thing.” 

Steve attracted all manner of good people to him. He was lucky, in that way. Otherwise it might have been wrong to ask someone you’d only met- was it… yesterday? ...in too short a time, anyway, to look after him in this condition. “Yeah. Thanks.” Turning to go away, a quick thought occurred and you looked back at him. “If you need them to look at you- Stark Industries is taking care of the bills so-” 

He waved you off. “Don’t worry about all of that right now. You seem like you got a lot on your plate.” 

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. President still waiting for you to answer. “And a lot more coming.” Their private rooms were separated- not on purpose, but Tony’s was a few doors down. You peeked in, seeing him still asleep, and decided not to wait. It would only get worse from here. “Yes, Mr. President. What can I do for you?” Voice tired and bitter. 

“Do for me? You’re out of your mind. What your people just did- what’s on the internet right now- we’re in full meltdown mode over here. Congress is having an emergency meeting- and you- how are you gonna clean this up? There’s so much damage from this- lasting damage- they wanna… they wanna make an example out of SHIELD.” 

You tried not to collapse into a chair outside Tony’s room, but your knees gave out all the same as you sat, curved in on yourself, and put a hand to your forehead. “To save their own asses, I know. You don’t have to tell me.” The United State government was never going to let anything come for them, no matter the mistakes they made. No matter that SHIELD was a government organization. They were a secret one, and now that the cat was out of the bag, they’d do whatever they could to downplay their involvement. 

And make martyrs of you all. Because it would be expected that the Avengers- that SHIELD’s people would come and defend it. Die on that sword. No matter the cost. You’d have to defend yourselves, right? Your actions? 

“They’re going to serve subpoenas. There’s going to be hearings for months. They’re talking about jail time. Life sentences.” 

“And what about you, Matthew. What are you talking about? What are you going to do?” His name would no doubt appear in more unredacted debriefing reports with your name labeled next to his. Times when he called to ask you- to ask Stark Industries and SHIELD- and the Avengers for help. What were his plans? 

“You tell me what your plan is. And then I’ll figure out where we’re going from here. We have a small window to make a statement. Get ahead of this- well. Not ahead. Your people saw to that.” He sounded pretty angry. 

And if you weren’t so drained, you might have been, too. At him. Down the corridor you saw Happy walking briskly, two laptops under his arm. “We did what we had to do. I don’t know if you’ve ever taken a history class in your life, but Hydra personnel had to be weeded out.” 

“I’ve taken many history and politics classes in my life. I’ll remind you I’m the President. I know who Hydra are. Don’t talk down to me.” It was a rare occurrence, to hear Ellis with bite in his voice. Threatened, perhaps? 

A headache was coming on. You tried to stay level. Fighting with him would yield no good results. “Well, then, sir, here’s what I suggest you do. Since you’re asking. I’ll start my staff on a pull protocol, and I suggest you do the same. Names are out there in flashing lights now. People will start to flee, and I’ve no doubt you have more than one rat on your sinking ship. Hydra are traitors to the nation. Lock them up. Make a scene. We’re all on the same side, here. SHIELD will only be collateral damage if you let them get away. An organization like that with nothing left to lose is full of very dangerous and desperate people.” 

There was a long pause on the other end of the line- strangely silent. Clearly indicative that he had you on mute while he barked orders at the staffers around him. When his voice returned, “Again- which is why- if you had this information- we should have worked together to-” 

“It wasn’t in my fucking back pocket, Matthew. They killed Nick Fury and then it all sort of spilled out from there while I was dodging fraudulent murder charges. You’ll have to excuse the sudden drop. It was the only thing we could do. And it had to be done. You’re not getting an apology out of me.” Hand holding a little tighter over your eyes as Happy came to a stop in front of you, you bit back tears. Now was no time to crumble. “I was glad… that your name wasn’t on that roster, sir.” President Ellis was still your ally. You had to keep him that way. 

He huffed out a strange noise. “Yeah. Me, too.” A resigned breath of air that might have been a laugh escaped you. “You’ve had a hell of a first term. Aliens threatening New York. Your VP tried to assassinate you. Now this… you’ve got more balls than anyone out there right now, sir. You can come out clean on the other side. Second term no problem.” 

“Yeah... I wonder… you ever thought about running for office? Lots of unprecedented shit happening right now. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. You were built for this stuff. ...I might need a real VP next term. Someone I can trust.” 

“I’ll tell you the same thing I told the last man that asked me to run his kingdom for him: no.” 

“Who was that?” “Tony Stark.” “Ah.”

“I paid you a compliment, you paid me one. We’re done here.” He sighed. “Alright. I’ll get to work. You do, too. And I’ll… I expect I’ll call you again soon.” 

“Yes, sir. I expect so, too.” The phone hung on that mutual quiet until he disconnected the call. You let your phone slowly down to your lap and then looked up at Happy who was gazing sadly back at you, although he lifted one of the  laptops in a small gesture. “Thanks. Here- I need you to pair with JARVIS and run the Hydra leak list. Any Stark employees on it need to be rounded up. I need you to secure the suit and load it on the jet- jet needs to be prepped for departure. ...preferably soon. And… keep an eye out, here. Badges on. Easier to see names that way.” Weakly smiling up at him. It was a long and tough to-do list, but if anyone could do it, it was Happy.

He couldn’t return the smile. Instead he gave a slow nod. “I’ll get to work. You can count on me.” 

“I know I can. Thank you, Happy.” 

A beaten but tough looking blonde woman was charging down the hall loudly, and the both of you turned to look at her. Happy immediately put his arm up to stop her in her tracks. “Hey- private hall. ID? You got a name?” 

“Sharon Carter. Check it. Is Rogers- he’s alive- right?” 

Taking no chances after all this, you activated your visor. “LUNA- check database on Sharon Carter.” 

A compiled list ran through your vision, but as her picture ran back, a green check stamped over it. “She’s clean, ma’am.” 

You nodded with a drop of your head after, giving her a weak wave through. “He’s alive. Two doors down on your right.” She didn’t even look at you as she moved around Happy to continue on her way, quietly you called to her- “Hey- if you need medical attention- stay in this wing. Stark Industries will cover you.” Former SHIELD employee. Probably needed a new health care provider. 

She barely stopped, hand on the handle of Steve’s room. Meeting your eyes for all of two seconds, nodding, and then disappearing into the room. More pressing things to worry about, you supposed. 

Looking up, you caught Happy peering through the window to Tony’s room. Checking on him. When he got caught he held his hand out to you. Without thought you put yours in his and he hoisted you up. “Go. Be with him. Rest. You look pretty beaten up, too. I’ve got this.” 

While you wanted to at least thank him with a smile, you couldn’t even muster that anymore. Instead just a weak pat on the shoulder before turning around to go into Tony’s room, closing the door quietly behind you. He was still deeply asleep on the bed, and you stayed there in the middle of the room, looking at him for probably a little too long. 

The twinge of white-hot pain in your chest prompted your feet to move, turning towards the bathroom after discarding the laptop on the table by his bed. Taking off your shirt, you were greeted with the sight of soaked through bandages, wet and red, wound no doubt open, and probably had been for a little while now. It was almost a little bit of a relief to know that your sudden drop in energy wasn’t from a sense of soon to be defeat, or the prospect of cleaning all this mess up. 

No it was just blood loss. Well that was something, right? Taking them off in one painful strip after the next, and the half dissolved gauze and pulled stitching over the bullet wound, you were left with rough patches of blood covering your chest, welts, and bruising- and the bullet hole. So near to your heart. Just oozing steadily. 

Bending forward, clutching the sink, your head dropped, and breathing became a little harder for the next few minutes. Trying to keep it all together. When you were able to look up into your reflection again, something dark was staring back at you. A shadow of yourself, behind which was that vast plane of unknown space that tethered you to the only thing that really qualified you to be here. 

And now- perhaps- that very thing was being exposed to a billion strangers at once. What would this do to Stark Industries? To Tony? Now that the world could see you… what would you do? What would you have to do? 

This thing inside of you, that let you look inside everyone else… that was the reason you’d ended up in this exact spot, wasn’t it? SHIELD had found out about you because of it- and you’d used it to get the very job that had ended you up helplessly and painfully in love with the man sleeping in the bed outside. 

The face looking back at you seemed so different from your own. Was that even you? What did you even know of yourself? How had you come into contact with this piece of the unknown? Why had it laid dormant inside you until you were old enough to know the exact right and wrong ways to use it- and still used it to end a man’s life- vile though he was. Wasn’t that where this started? Was it just a penance? A price you were paying? Staring into those unrecognizable eyes you saw that glow. Briefly. It fought off the wisps of black. Breaking through the shadows that had covered your face until you were standing there. Just… looking at you. 

Facing yourself. And everything you’d become. You saw something strange in your own eyes. Something unfamiliar. Something lurking there. Something you just didn’t know. 

How much more of yourself could you expand? How much more would you find out? If you continued to train, to hone, to use these powers, whatever they were, what would happen to you? What would you turn into? What would you be able to do? 

Who were you? 

A groan in the room ahead cut your attention. You were so unimportant in all this. And in the next moment, you saw yourself sitting beside Tony’s bed. Just waiting for him. Hands cradling his. Holding him steady. Comforting him, while he dreamed. 

It was where you blinked yourself back into awareness. No telling how you’d gotten there or how long you’d been sitting there for. When you’d put your clothes back and if you’d even repatched yourself. Just holding out for him. A soft knock at the door drew your attention, and Happy leaned in to place a stack of clothes on the chair by the door. “Thought you two would need something to change into. ...the press is gathering outside. They’re looking for a statement. I can have the cops come but- they’re kinda busy. Won’t be for a while.” 

“Thank you.” Murmuring, finding your voice a little lost. “Just let them stew. I’ll talk to them when I’m ready.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

You let go of Tony only long enough to change into the zip up Stark Industries hoodie and black jeans that Happy had left. It was nice to have a fresh change of clothes. Tony had something similar waiting for him, whenever he was up and ready to go. Part of you almost wanted to ask Happy to get something a little more upscale- since you’d be addressing the media as soon as you stepped outside but… 

Maybe this was okay. It was okay to see you battle-worn and tired. You might have been Avengers but you were still people. Maybe it would help your case, to appear a little more common. Not like battle was no big deal. Not like none of this mattered. It did matter, and you were bruised. You weren’t gods- well. Except for Thor. The rest of you were mostly just people. Enhanced or not. 

The light of the laptop as you sat down at Tony’s bedside again was practically blinding. The room was in the lowest possible lighting allowed so that he could rest, and the sun had gone down a little while ago. While it only made the headache worse, it made you ultimately feel better to be able to give him this small amount of time. Emails were piling up- as always. Your first point of attention was gathering up a subsection of Damage Control. They’d need to be on this- probably a few hours ago was when they should have started. 

So. Already late. There was now SHIELD tech in the river and on the highway that would need to be cleaned up wholesale and stored. Probably destroyed. Which presented another problem. Control’s storage capacity was nearing max, so you then had to reallocated a hefty amount of funds to okay a new set of units. Eventually you’d have to go down there and see what was going on. Find out what needed to be stay and what could be discarded. Because god knew no one could do anything right without you around. Considering what was in those units… probably for the better that you handled it personally. 

Next was setting up a hospital fund for your team- and the SHIELD employees who now found themselves shit out of luck due to current events. With the way Ellis was talking, it was pretty clear they were about to dissolve SHIELD at best. And at worst, try to start handing out jail time to everyone who worked there. That was a lot of talent to waste, and a lot of lives to ruin. Which is exactly why they were going to do it. And exactly why you couldn’t let that happen. 

So you started drafting a SHIELD to Stark Industries Open Arms Transfer initiative email. Funny, how a few months ago you were badgered by Fury over stealing one of his employees. Now you’d have almost all of them. Pending their allegiance. Which begged the next to-do… what of the people who still flew Hydra’s banners? You supposed that was up for the government to decide. Technically everything they’d done was treason. This effort would be time sensitive… maybe it would be in everyone’s best interests to wait until you got word back from Ellis how bad the fallout would be. 

So the OAT initiative went into a secure email to you, Tony, and a few other trusted individuals for review and processing. Pending the result to all this madness. 

It was in the middle of writing up notes for the inevitable press briefing that would have to come- sooner rather than later- that you felt your attention growing short and your eyes getting heavy. Head back, sitting uncomfortably cross-legged in the chair next to Tony’s bed, you were dragged into an uneasy and unwilling sleep. 

Deep down under you were called closer by the light of Tony’s distant, warm dreaming. And far away you sensed the looming dark clouds of Steve’s nightmares. One name, repeated over and over- Bucky. Louder and louder until it threatened the small well of peacefulness you found in sheltering by Tony’s side. So much so that you imagined yourself covering your ears and willing it to stop. He was in pain and it was killing you. Slowly. Like twisting a knife- 

It was the pain in your chest that woke you first, followed swiftly by the sharp call that indicated Tony had said this a few times prior, “Honey.” When you came to you were drenched in sweat, breathing heavy. And he was sitting up in his hospital bed staring at you. Worried down to his core. “I’m- I was just… having a nightmare. I think…” Trying desperately to catch your breath. “I just need a minute…” Feeling the shiver of panic receding a little too slowly. 

He reached out, setting a hand over yours. Comfort was close. “Take your time.” 

That was exactly what you did, excusing yourself to the small bathroom to splash some water on your face- check that you hadn’t started bleeding again. Instead hoping for the alternative- healing would have been nice. But it didn’t feel like that was happening. Stress related? Running on empty? Who the hell knew. There was so much about yourself you didn’t understand yet-

And you couldn’t risk going into that spiral again. So you simply didn’t. Instead you finished your little alone time and came back into the room to see Tony on his feet, putting on the clothes Happy brought. It would have been standard to tell him to slow down. He’d gotten the crap kicked out of him, had been fired on by multitudes of heavy machinery, and had been knocked unconscious and fallen out of the sky, but… it was a little beyond that at this point, telling him to slow down. He wouldn’t, and more importantly, couldn’t. Same as you. 

Instead you just walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his middle, burying your face in his chest. He returned the embrace, strong arms coming around you, head resting atop yours. Another close call. Another few scrapes with… not death but… best not to think about it. This week had been pretty much hell. Like all the big ones before it. When this shit happened, it was always in such a small span of time. No rest. No breaks. Just nonstop carnage and running until it was over and the two of you- and your team- were lucky to be out alive on your feet. 

When more than a few minutes had passed, and the two of you were still clinging to each other, you had to be the one strong enough to interrupt the only good part of your life at that moment. “Press is outside. I issued a briefing on the schedule in the media room for tomorrow.” 

“Good. I wanted to go home, anyway.” 

“I set up a couple of things- funds for the team and the SHIELD agents who got hurt…” 

“I trust you.” 

“So we just need to check out, get into a car and not take questions.” 

“Sounds easy enough.” 

Which meant it was anything but. Hospital staff gave the both of you a stern talking to, something neither of you were listening to. There was just no time to be lying around in a hospital bed right now, democracy was kind of falling apart. Though you made a promise to yourself that you would have Tony in bed tonight, and the night after- if you could help it. He needed to take it easy. And he’d have to have his hand held in order to do it. 

But after you signed just the right amount of documentation in order to be let go, and Happy escorted you from the hall and outside, regardless of the early morning hour, the press had camped outside. Waiting for this moment. They all called. Screamed. Took pictures. Waved recorders and microphones. Happy parted the bodies like a break in the sea, and held the door open for the both of you to the waiting car. 

In unusual order, you helped Tony in first, and almost allowed yourself to feel a sense of relief, knees practically about to give out so that you could sit next to him. But- you at least had to hold up a hand. “We’re issuing a statement tomorrow at Stark Industries. Ten AM. You’ll get everything there-” 

And, as with all things, something bad had to happen. Right then. To you. To Tony. Christine Everhart and her pleasant smile- cameraman pushing people out of the way as she stumbled up to you and held a microphone up. “WhIH news- would you care to comment on the coordinated government cover up of Obadiah Stane’s murder so that you could assume control of Stark Industries?” 

Shock rode threw the crowd heavily and very suddenly all eyes were on you and every other voice in the area died. Waiting. Waiting to hear what you had to say. It wasn’t a good look, to be caught like that. Kind of like a smack broadside to your face. It left you standing there wide-eyed with no air in your lungs. “What- what did you just say to me?” 

“We’re live- by the way- and our viewers want to know how you and Tony Stark got away with murdering Obadiah Stane so that you could take control of the company- and why the government was involved- what do you have to say? Is it true that he and Stane had animosity towards each other that led to the murder?” 

There were few options here. You could tell her that you would address it tomorrow. You could deny it. You could say nothing at all. But after everything, after all this time- and especially right in that moment-

You let the heat of anger ravage you. “That’s outrageous.” When Tony’s voice lit up behind you, you held a hand up to stop him and turned fully, your back to him, to cover him. Shield him. Not this. They would not take him on this. But you? She could have you. And you’d make her regret it. And when she tried to counter you started in, “No- shut- just shut up, Christine.” The shock riding the people surrounding the area was of a much different color then. 

That debriefing report, so long ago now… you’d only read it once. But you knew of its existence. And of course that was the very first thing she’d picked to fixate on. 

You narrowed your eyes at her. “If you had even bothered to read the twenty other pages sandwiched between the buzzwords you skimmed for your headline, you’d know that Stane was a traitor. He was selling weapons to terrorists- for years- the same terrorists he paid to kidnap and kill Tony. And when that didn’t work, when Tony built a defense suit to get out of there, Obi smiled and laughed and played it off. Meanwhile trying to rebuild that suit so that he could sell those, too.” 

When she opened her mouth you held up a finger to her, “I’m not finished. Since you couldn’t be bothered to do the reading, we’re not done with the re-education yet. When he couldn’t figure out the power source, he tried to murder  Tony in his own house- and then when I, along with a few government agents, came to arrest him on our property, he tried to murder us, too. Ten people. He went after us, he hurt civilians on the highway, and tried to kill Tony. A third time. 

He wouldn’t have stopped there. So look me in the eyes right now and listen to me when I say this- because you want me to say it, right? I flipped the switch that was responsible for Obadiah Stane’s death. I did it. And I’m not sorry.” Waiting, catching you breath before finishing. “I was acting not only in self defense, but in the defense of others. In defense of this country. He was a war profiteer, a tyrant, and a treasonous snake. And, again, if you’d bothered to do any reading that didn’t just suit your own interests, you’d know that neither Tony nor I were working for SHIELD at that point. They pulled the cover-story. We had no say in the matter.” 

You leveled the hardest look you could manage and expelled the last on a stern tone. “You keep coming after me so much over matters like this it makes me wonder whose side you’re really on. But let me tell you this, don’t you dare insinuate Tony threw Obi under the bus for me. Tony did what he had to- to protect people- like he always does. And I did what I had to, to end it. And I don’t regret any of it. We’ve met a lot of men who just want to crush everyone beneath them. And we’ll never stop protecting people who are innocent in all this. No matter the cost.” As the crowd started murmuring, you held a hand up. “We’re done here.” 

The calls for attention were so much louder now it was almost deafening. You just barely kept  from collapsing into the car, holding steady until Happy closed the door and then got in on the other side to drive off. In that time, Tony’s hand had found yours, holding tightly, eyes ahead. 

His voice was low, when he found it. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

“There’s gonna be a lot of things I don’t have to do in the coming months. But I will.” That report was out now- something you hadn’t even given thought to. Only worrying about yourself and your powers. Strange, that she hadn’t brought that up. Then again, murdering Obi to take over the company was a little more interesting, you supposed. “I’m not gonna let her say whatever the hell she wants- I’m not gonna let them try and destroy what you’ve done- what you’re doing.” 

Tony was a good man. He might not always have been, but he was trying, now. You saw him on his worst days. And his best ones. You saw him trying. Always trying. Always thinking, always working. 

His free hand lifted up, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear before cupping your chin in his palm and directing your face his way. The two of you shared a look. “Don’t let her get you upset over me.” 

“Not over you, for you. I’ll say whatever I have to say- do whatever I have to do- to defend you. To make it right.” Almost begging for him to understand a concept that you knew he was intimately familiar with. You would protect this man until your dying breath. You would defend him. Leaning forward, you rested your forehead against his. “I will always pick you.” 

The two of you were a team. Recent events had cemented that more than ever. You were on his team. You were on his side. Always. And you found peace in that. 

The corner of his lips quirked, and his hand slid from your face to tangle in the back of your hair, holding you steady there against him. “Does it help that I kind of loved listening to you tear her apart?” Joking, as always, in a tense moment. It at least encouraged a small breath of a laugh, a flutter of your eyes. His voice was quiet and warm when he spoke again. “I love you. And… if I could pick anyone to be in my corner… yeah. It’s you. It’s always been you.” Whether when you were just starting out ten years ago. 

Or five minutes ago telling Christine Everhart to go fuck herself. Yeah. It was always you. 

“I love you, too. We have each other’s backs. I’m never worried about you being on my side or not. And you shouldn’t be worried about which one I’m coming out on, either.” 

“For the record- I wasn’t. I’m just- ...it’s weird for me to be the one saying this, but there are moments where delicacy could be employed a little more…” Grinning lightly. 

“It was time for me to put delicacy aside. They don’t listen to that. But… I need help work shopping how I’m going to answer the inevitable questions about my powers- I’m worried- about the company-” The Board might feel different, knowing they had a literal manipulator working for them. Sister companies, investors, subsidiaries- there was no end to people who would have a problem with someone they thought  could control them. “I think… I might have to step back-”

“Don’t worry about that.” Said like he had not a care in the world over such a divisive topic. 

“I have to.” 

Settling back, he put his arm around your shoulder, and eased you to rest against him. An easy thing to do, despite the oncoming frightening future prospects. “I deleted those files, remember? Only ones who know about that are you, me, the agent that wrote it and-” 

“Yeah but what about all the other debriefs? What about the assessments? What about-”

“Gone. There’s nothing there.” It shouldn’t have stunned you, but it did. At least a little. When you stared at him a little too long, waiting for him to expand, he seemed to get a little uncomfortable. “I… had a deal. With Fury. Before any of this. If he wanted us to keep working for him, he had to purge all mentions of that stuff. You worry about me- and I’ll worry about you.” 

“Tony…” How were you supposed to feel about this? That you got off- alright, well, not scot-free, considering the massive blowout you’d just had, but… he’d had to go and ask Nick Fury for that. Probably from a position of weakness. But he’d done it anyway. To save you.

“No nightmare scenarios, remember? Not over that.” His arm curled around you a little tighter. “It’s my job to protect you. Until you want that out there, that’s nobody else’s decision.” Perhaps a wise move, although such an ironic thing to say, coming from Mr. I Am Iron Man. 

Curling in, you moved to rest your hand over his heart and closed your eyes. You were protected. Something you already knew, but… in such turbulent times, it was a newly and massively comforting thought. Because you believed it so strongly. Tony was watching out for you. And you would watch out for him. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too. We’ll get through this.” 

He was probably the only person on earth that you could make you believe that.