#it shouldn’t always be the doctor trying to mend their relationship though

[thirteenslily]

“look at all the evidence i gathered. and they just.. mocked me.”

“no one's mocking you now.”

[liannelara-dracula]

🥀😭 for Uta

Hi Love,

I will be including both.

-Jade

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Prompt

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How they make her cry + their reaction to doing it + comfort

Kaneki:

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It isn’t so much that you fight, or anything, it’s what he gets himself into. I mean he hardly yells anyways. But of course, it leads to you two, to fighting. And you know it’s serious when he’s mad. Now although it takes a while for him to grow upset being in a relationship with him still means you two will fight. I don’t think it’s what he says that hurts the most when you two argue but more or so his actions. When he’s mad at you or disagrees with you he will without saying anything, and he’ll be bitter about the whole thing. He also gives you the silent treatment.

“I didn’t bother to stick around if this is how you want us to be.” You’d say kinda annoyed.

He’d turn to look upset by your statement. “I never asked you to stick around, Y/n. You made the choice yourself. But you’re not being hundred percent honest with me so why should I?”

This made you upset for sure, “You know exactly why! And I know that I know that it was my decision to stay and it’s also my decision whether I choose to tell you about how I feel.” You’d raise your voice just a bit.

“So it’s just when it’s convenient for you?!” He’d arch a brow being ticked by such a response.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying.” You’d shake your head, angry.

“Then what?! What can’t you tell me?!”

Seeing he was yelling now, it made you react the same, “A lot of things--because there is so much I swore to tell no one! I—I can’t just open my heart up to you like some—little girl! Ken, we’re in a world where we’re at odds!” You’d explain, waving your hands around.

“If it weren’t for that stupid doctor, we wouldn’t have even collided and I wish that was the case right now!” He’d say clenching his jaw a little.

“What are you saying?” You’d ask, not liking where this fight was going.

“I’m saying I’m not in the mood for this back and forth with you anymore, Y/n!” He’d exclaim, looking extremely stressed.

You’d look at him with your eyes watery, “So that’s it, you’re just walking away?!”

“Yeah! Cause we don’t work!” He’d yell now shattering the brick walls you put up when you wanted to cry.

A tear slid down your cheek, “Leave then!”

Knowing he made you sad is a little surprising to him since you two hardly ever fight and so I don’t think he sees you cry, especially over a fight. But when he did he felt horrible tbh. I don’t think he likes seeing you mad but seeing you cry is another level like he crumbles.

He comforts you by bringing you flowers and by apologizing at your door.

Hide:

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Now you two don’t fight, it hardly happens. But I think it happens more often than Kaneki because Hide doesn’t always take things seriously so you can get upset when he just isn’t listening and understanding how he made you upset.

“Chasing after this investigation could get you killed.” You’d frown.

He’d shake his head disagreeing, “I’ve done this before, besides I won’t get caught.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.” You’d place your hand over his, worrying over him.

“It’s fine, besides I know what to do.” He’d say brushing you off.

“Then at least let me help you.”

“Babe, I’m fine.” He’d shake his head not wanting you to be involved.

This was surely the last straw for you before you spoke up, “You’re getting too involved!”

“Don’t be a drama queen.” He’d tease not taking you seriously.

You’d cross your arms, “Hide, I’m serious!”

“Babe-“

“No—there’s a limit to being involved.”

He’d raise his voice now, “Kaneki’s my friend and I’m not giving up on him!”

“You’re going to get killed because of this!” You’d argue.

“Stop getting in the way of it!”

“You’d really go on the line for that!?”

He’d grow annoyed by your selfishness, “What choice do I have?! It’s not like you care or understand!”

“Hide, we can talk about this!” You’d approach him not wanting to fight.

“There’s nothing to talk about!”

“There is plenty to talk about, you are obsessed with figuring this out when it’s basically impossible. A-and you don’t even listen to me! Y-you can’t even see what’s right in front of you right now because you’re so damn blind!” Now you were mad and not getting into a fight would seem impossible.

“Blind?! You’re the one telling me to give up on my friend!”

“I’m not telling you to give up. I just want you to be smart about things and realize you’re only human! You can’t help him like you think you can!”

“You wouldn’t understand!” He’d insist.

“Hide, you’re too upset to think straight--don’t go in this blindly! You could get hurt trying to save him!”

He’d be taking back by your focus and get angry, “Is that all you care about? What about what I want?”

“Maybe so! Because at this point Kaneki is a lost cause!”

“You’re selfish, Y/n. All you care about is yourself.” Though this was true in this moment you were tired of him telling you he’d stay with you when he’d risk his life. It was a tiring cycle you couldn’t continue.

“Selfish? Okay, and I suppose now you’re going to tell me I’m overreacting just like I always do right?” You’re eyes clouded with tears as you were about to explode from this.

“Y/n--”

You’d wipe the tears that slid down your cheeks, “N-no, you k-know what I--I don’t have to h-hear this. Besides, you just keep making b-broken promises to me . . . I mean it’s clear as day I don’t matter to you. I c-can’t believe I thought otherwise.”

He doesn’t believe he had this effect on you and knowing he did he hated how he wasn’t keeping his promises. And he seemed to feel guilty even if your request was a little selfish he understood why you felt the way he did. Hide needed to shape up of you mattered or he needed to let you go because you were becoming his last thought. How he’d make it up to you is by spending time with you and little you help him and he’d listen to you a little more.

Ayato:

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Gosh, he doesn’t have the best personality so fighting can happen between you two. Maybe a lot even. Now you two are polar opposites which leads you two to argue and disagree and it makes you want to change his mind. And let’s just say you’ve been trying to change him for the better but it is just making him mad. Overall you’ve been in his space in a way because you want to come to agreeing and making him a better person.

“Ayato.” You’d say walking faster to catch up behind him.

He was beyond upset and he kept ignoring you as he walked faster.

“Ayato, please. . .” He’d turn to you as you’d finally caught up to him and touched his arm.

“Talk to me.” You’d whisper, not wanting to fight.

He’d look away walking off again, “Tch, leave it Y/n.”

“Ayato, quit being so stubborn!” You’d stop, balling your hands into fists.

“I said enough, Y/n! . . .Just quit it with all this crap!”

“There is nothing wrong with caring or being good to someone.”

“Maybe you’re forgetting something Y/n I’m a ghoul—a monster! Kindness is weakness!”

“You are not a monster! Because if that is the case I am not different! And you are not a m-monster—yes we’re ghouls and we can’t change that! But I don’t want you to hold grudges and be angry at the world and your father Ayato! I don’t want to see you like that—love doesn’t make you weak.”

“Don’t you dare bring my father up!”

“Ayato—“

“He was a weakling I will never forgive and I’m a monster because I am a ghoul! If you think I’m just going to deal with things how you want, then too bad.”

“All I’m asking is that you try! But you never once listen to me, do you?! Hatred is that the only thing you’ve ever come to known?! . . .Ayato, if there’s one thing I know it’s that love is not a weakness our relationship is—“

“This relationship is bullshit Y/n! You’re mending it without me in it. You just change everything and expect me to follow because what? You want me to be a good man!? Well, I’m not and I never will be!”

“If you really think that t-then you s-should’ve just said so.” You’d say coldly a few tears running down your cheeks.

He’d seemed regretful, “Y/n.”

“Don’t, please. Just leave!”

Ayato knew girls typically cry but seeing you cry after what he said shattered him, he was touched and he hated himself in that moment. He’d make it up to you after coming back one night he wouldn’t say anything but you knew he wanted to apologize and he ends up staying with you and just through time you start to talk because he is being kind to you. It’s just small things.

Yomo:

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He’s quiet, so getting into a fight with him? Yikes! This is bad but also really important.

“I can take care of myself, Yomo. I don’t need you to protect me. I can handle myself just fine.”

“You and I both know you can’t.”

“I can. I’m sick of you always looking after me. I’m your girlfriend, not a child.”

“Y/n, I know that but it’s better this way.”

“Ren, I’m fine.”

“Y/n please.”

“What? Why do you always make up the rules?”

“Because it isn’t safe!”

There was a moment of silence between you both.

“I—I didn’t. I don’t want you to end up like my sister did, okay?!”

“I’m not her! You can’t be so set on the past.”

“Y/n I’m not risking this again!”

“Ren-”

“It’s dangerous!”

“Everywhere we go is dangerous! There is no place for us! And you just want to keep me in the dark?!”

“I’m trying to protect you!”

“I don’t want to be protected! I want us to have a life, a relationship!”

“Y/n—we”

“Why do you do this to yourself? You push yourself over the edge for me and you make it so hard to love when it’s not!”

“Y/n-“

“No. . . No i-it shouldn’t be this hard.” You’d say a tear running down your cheek.

He’d wipe your tears away and would be mad at the situation. He wanted to make you happy and safe and instead, he made you cry.

Uta:

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You two bicker but that’s fun and games. What’s not fun is seeing Uta’s true colors and being in a problematic relationship that functions on nothing but a rollercoaster of emotions. And most of the fights are always about him lying and hurt you in some way. He may care for you but somehow you two are always fighting for your love and it honestly feels like it may kill you one day. He’s put you through hell when you guys argue and it’s the worst.

You whimper a little as you continued to sob as you stepped out from his mask shop.

“Y/n.” You ignored him and continued to walk off.

“Just leave me alone Uta.” You’d say sniffling as tears continued to pour.

“Y/n, listen to me.” He said grabbing your wrist.

“Stay away from me!” You’d scream.

“Damn it Y/n, just listen to me!” He’d shout making you gasp as more tears fell from your lashes.

“What?! What can you say that would change a-any of this!?”

“I didn’t do this to hurt you!”

“Y-you lied!. . . “ You shook your head, tears falling down your lashes.

Taking a breath you continued, “You lied about the c-clowns, y-you’re a part of!—-y-you lead the clowns!” You hiccup feeling betrayed.

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you!”

Your eyes red and filled with more tears, “Y-you’ve been lying to me this w-whole time.”

“It was to protect you!” He argued.

“Uta--You k-killed those people, for no reason—for what, a show? To make s-some grand entrance!?” You stammered wiping the tears that kept falling.

“I’m a ghoul, Y/n! . . . And so are you. That’s my life! I make bad decisions all the time because I don’t care! So why is it so important for you to keep me in check?!” He exclaimed, angry at the way you tried to see the good in him.

“I know what we are . . . but sometimes I wish you didn’t always have to act like one! Just because we’re monsters by nature doesn’t mean we have to live by that.” You’d yell turning away from him only to sob more.

“Maybe that’s what you wanna do, but someone like me can’t.”

“You don’t have to be this way--no one told you to be. How is this relationship supposed to stand if I’m going in one direction and you’re going in the opposite?! Don’t you care at all?! About yourself? About me? About anything?” You looked at him with widened eyes as you couldn’t believe him.

“I don’t care what you think of me anymore, Y/n.” He turned walking away from you knowing you two were too different and can’t work this out.

He hated seeing you this way. Uta didn’t want you to cry or be sad—he never wanted to hurt you and he did. After some time, he would probably make it up to you because he reflected and he changed and you decided you could give him another chance.

Furuta:

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Ladies, I’m gonna come clean and just say it, he’s abusive. Seriously, watch yourself. Like I don’t see his relationship as something good, it’s always toxic. Now, this fight was probably just general about jealousy. He was possessive and he didn’t like it if you had a male friend let’s just say.

“Furuta, what’s wrong?” You frown touching his shoulder seeing he was upset and ignored you.

“You were talking to him.” He stated still ignoring you.

“So?” You questioned.

“Which means you weren’t being faithful to me.” He pointed out.

This hurt to hear. “Faithful, Furuta I’ve been more than faithful. I care about you.”

“Prove it to me.” He stated bitterly.

“P-prove it, but Furuta I have already done that. Besides, I just know the guy but I don’t like him or anything.” You clarified.

He turned away to fix something on the desk. “That’s not what he feels.”

“But that doesn’t matter. I only like you.” You say approaching him.

He turned to you, his eyes and cold. “You say that, but it doesn’t appear that way. You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying!”

“Then why did you let him touch you!?” He glared.

“He didn’t many anything by it he just brush his hand against me!”

“How many more times are you going to lie to me Y/n?!” Furuta only seem to get even more upset.

“Furuta please, I’m not lying.” You backed a few inches away from him.

He continued cornering you. “What is he to you huh?! What am I to you!”

“He’s nothing, you’re my boyfriend!”

Titling his had he asked, “Am I really, it doesn’t seem that way to me?”

“Please Furuta, I don’t wanna hurt you and I never would.” You shake your head your eyes widening.

“That’s bullshit!” He seethed, grabbing a fist full of your hair.

“Ahh! Stop please!---A-ahh please!” You screamed, tears brimming your eyes at the pain you felt.

He inched closer to your face yelling and demanding for an anwser, “Tell me the truth, are you or were you ever sleeping with him?!”

He continued to tug on your hair making you lose balance and crouch down crying, “Ahh--Furuta please! You’re hurting me!”

“Tell me!” He demanded.

You shook your head, “No! No! I never did! The only person I like---I want is y-you, please!”

“Please stop, stop this right n-now. P-please I’m begging you.” You continued.

“Oh you poor thing.” He cooed, his grip loosens a bit seeing you cry.

“S-stop. P-please make it s-stop.” You sobbed into your frail hands.

He crouched down to your level, his expression changing as he’d comfort you. “Shhhh, don’t cry angel I’m not mad at you.”

It was madness and he made you confused in this toxic relationship. “But you said—“

“Shhh, everything is fine. You’re okay, you don’t have to cry.” He frowns bringing you into his embrace as if to cradle you from the thing which made you cry.

“Please. . . l-let me g-go, F-Furuta. ”

“Shhh, why don’t you fall asleep sweetheart?” He rocks you back and forth trying to making you calm down.

“No P-p-please.” You shook your head crying, not wanting to do this any longer.

Overall, you probably didn’t end up talking to him. But if you did you’d just be stuck in some toxic relationship.

Takizawa (ghoul):

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You two don’t fight much because you try to let things go. But then too much tension builds up and then you both explode. Your fights are always serious and they hurt a lot and they both are emotionally driven. He may be crying in the moment or after because he doesn’t want to hurt you—he Ioves you.

“Hey you know we can talk about whatever’s on your mind.” He says sitting next to you on the bed.

“It’s okay Taki, I’m fine.” You say getting up as he did the same.

“Y/n, why do you push me away?”

“Taki, I don’t want to talk about this right now, please.” You raise your hands feeling a little annoyed.

“Y/n. Please just tell me—if it’s something I did.”

“I said I was fine.” You sounded bitter but couldn't help yourself.

“Y/n-”

“No.”

“Why can’t you ever let something be about you?”

“Why do you care!?” You turned to him now growing upset.

“Because you’re so much better than what you believe! You taught me that yourself and yet you don’t see that!” It's true you made him not be as brash as he was--you were his anchor.

“People like you are not me, Taki that’s the difference! I’m not like you or others! There’s too much that I can’t—-I don’t even—-I’m a mess that can’t be fixed which means you should be with someone who’s pretty and not some used up girl!” You shout.

“Y/n you have so much more than that.” He disagreed shaking his head, he seemed hurt knowing you didn't value yourself.

“There’s nothing here for me anymore! Stop saying that I can change or you can change me. Stop saying I matter or value to you! I’m not worth it!”

“Why can’t you believe anything I say?! Is it that hard to take a compliment?!” He yelled.

“Because no man is ever sincere! The only compliments I’ve ever had are about my body! How do you think that feels?!—To be s-sexualized?! To people, I have no p-personality, I’m just . . . an object that guys think they can use. I’m a c-chewed-up piece of gum and so when I hear from your mouth, the words, ‘you’re pretty or ‘you’re b-beautiful’ a-all I can think about i-is h-how I’m n-not.” You shake your head, tears falling down.

“Others may think that but I don’t, Y/n I love you.” He confessed.

“No, no you don’t—-Y-you’re just confused.” You shook your head wiping your tears.

“Damn it y/n! You just never want to believe you’re good enough! You matter to me okay! I value you! And I couldn’t imagine not meeting you! You were the only girl who bothered with me—why are you this hard on yourself?!”

“Because I’m not what you need! And I can’t love--I’ve never--I don’t. I can’t. I don’t love, I don’t let people in--because I’m so afraid that one d-day you’ll disappear or that y-you’ll leave because everyone I love gets hurt. And I d-don’t what that to h-happen.”

“Y/n-”

“No-no I c-can’t.” You wave your hands in front of him still crying.

“Hey, hey it’s okay.” He comforted bringing you in an embrace.

You accept his hug and look up at him, “Everything feels like my fault and I just, everything--Everything is because of m-me!”

He'd say stroking your hair and making you relax. “No, no, that’s not true, Y/n.” He’d say embracing you. His hug was the best thing you probably haven’t felt in forever.

He never wanted to hurt anyone and most certainly not make you cry. He felt horrible and couldn’t live with himself seeing you that way.

[polymathemawrites]

Hungover in the City of Dust Part 2

CW: depictions of broken bones, drug use (via the HEV suit), mentions of former sexual partners, guns, consumption of alcohol

Flashback with us to the year 2000 where Gordon is a useless bisexual with a huge ass crush and hasn't yet been fucked around with by eldritch abominations with briefcases

also featured: a section that looks vaguely like a songfic, do you guys remember songfics? wow so old

part one is here read below for part two

He broke his arm, he thinks. Looking down at it does nothing to help him determine this because it's in the HEV suit, but it's also in the HEV suit at a very inhuman angle. He's not that kind of doctor, so he doesn't know, but again he's pretty sure. The refrain of 'morphine administered' hums through and he staggers a bit.

Dr. Cross' voice says something, and he is forced to loop his finger in the air to get her to repeat herself, her understanding of ASL isn't as strong as some of the other AnMat members but he can get his point across easy enough.

"I asked if you wished to stop the simulation, Dr. Freeman."

He shakes his head.

It takes a further half an hour of training and the chemicals that the suit chooses to pump him with cause him to vomit up his lunch but they clear it.

He is beaming with pride, his arm in a sling when he meets an off-duty Barney Calhoun at the bar in the town above ground and a bus-ride away. The one Barney loved most, with the fake UFO constructed on the roof and the bigfoot pictures on the walls.

"Hole-lee shit, what happened to you, doc?"

Gordon makes him order him a drink from the bar and return before he signs out a heavily edited version of events, the REDACTED blanks nearly hang in the air between them.

But I'll be fine in a few days, it's not as bad as it looks.

Barney takes a sip of his PBR and Gordon's eyes immediately track the way his throat works around it, the wide-breadth of his chest in the plain black t-shirt he's wearing. Due to experience with Barney's limited wardrobe he knows he's wearing the same worn Levis he always wears, and that his uniform boots are what those jeans are tucked into.

Gordon reaches out and drags the menu of bar appetizers over in front of him even though he has it memorized at this point. Something to do with his eyes that isn't stare at Barney Calhoun like an idiot.

He sips his hard apple cider and listens to Barney give him a less redacted version of his day's events - the usual, who locked themselves out of their office, who stole whose lunch, who broke the elevator. Gordon snorted and stopped him, holding his hand up.

The elevator just hangs so whoever hits the button is not who breaks it, Barn.

He could finger-spell Barney, he could, but using the English Sign for Barn/Shed the first time had caused Barney to laugh so hard he choked, so he's done it since.

"I don't know doc, I think it's a pretty good working hypothesis."

Gordon laughs again, the same huffy silent breath, the sound makes Barney's eyes light up, his frankly devastatingly attractive face break out in a sweet smile.

No more hypotheticals from you.

Gordon touches him, a lot maybe, the more drinks he gets in him the more tactile he gets, eventually he slides into the same booth as Barney when he comes back from the bathroom, makes an excuse about how it will be easier for him to see the book Barney has bought from the similarly themed book-store next door to the bar. He laughs at the bad science, points it out and corrects it, and makes Barney laugh or huff and try badly to defend whatever not-a-scientist researcher has to say. Barney holds his PBR, cheap-ass fake piss water for babies, far more than Gordon holds his alcoholic apple juice for toddlers, so that when they do hitch the bus back to the compound, Barney has Gordon's arm slung around his shoulders.

Barney doesn't live in the underground, but he follows Gordon all the way to his rooms - or rather he shepherds him all the way there, together they manage with the door lock mechanism and despite it being a massive breach of security, it's Barney who inputs the numerical code to open the door in the end when Gordon can't seem to manage.

Deposited on the cheap mass-produced couch, Gordon kicks off his shoes and pulls his khaki-clad legs underneath himself while Barney messes around in the tiny kitchenette. Gordon had worked himself up to having the seniority enough to get his own kitchenette, it was a crowning achievement here at Black Mesa. Even if you didn't cook for shit, having a kitchenette meant you were considered a vital enough investment to be allowed a heating element in your dorm that wasn't a coffee maker.

It was a bit like perpetually living in a motel, when one thought about it. Less the college life and more hundreds of identical suites.

Barney crashes down next to him and shoves a glass of water at Gordon's chest. It doesn't manage to slosh and Gordon notes that Barney has even politely put a neon-pink bendy straw in it just for him.

He sips the water obediently and Barney puts his feet up on the coffee table.

He wants very badly to turn Barney's face toward him, to see that soft please smile up close. He wants even more to press forward, chase the taste of blue ribbon from the edges of his lips, follow deeper. He wants to drag his hands - or hand as the case may be tonight - over Barney's broad chest, the softness of his stomach, the stretch of his shoulders. Maybe five years ago he would have. If he'd met Barney when he was in college, not that it was at all likely seeing as Barney went to school on the entire opposite side of the country but still. Definitely not now that Barney was, is, the best friend he's ever had.

They'd hit it off like wild-fire from day one, Barney getting his dry and dark humor and Gordon obliging his conspiracy theories and charming warmth. A few months in and Barney had invited him to sneak onto a roof in the middle of the night, Gordon had come, half expecting Barney to confront him on Gordon's feelings. Instead there had been a cooler of beer, a blanket stretched out on the ground, and Barney's grin. Gordon told him the names of constellations and Barney made some up. UFO watching, except it's mostly star-gazing, and Barney didn't confront him, hasn't yet, but he also hasn't closed the distance between them either.

Gordon isn't open about his sexuality, but he's had boyfriends and girlfriends both, and one memorable night in which he had been propositioned at a bar by a couple and had ended up the very intimate meat in a sandwich.

When he puts the water glass down and reaches out to rest his hand upon Barney's arm, the guard turns his gaze from the ceiling to Gordon's face - his smile still easy and open.

He's a coward, he doesn't move in, he doesn't press his lips to Barney's smile, doesn't trace the curve with his tongue.

Gonna head to bed, you can camp on the couch if you want.

"Thanks Gord, I think I will." Barney pats him on the leg, makes him take the water to the bedroom with him.

He finishes half of the water while he sways on his feet, undressing and leaving the clothes he strips to the floor. He puts the arm sling on the bedside table and studies the bruising on his mending arm. The bone had been a clean break and a cleaner thing to heal for the mess of chemicals and other things. He didn't pretend to think he understood what it was that Black Mesa was working with that could heal a broken bone. Or where they got the samples they worked with in AnMat. He wasn't paid to think about where anything came from, only to get excited over the prospect of working with it, and he was - is. His college thesis has already been expanded on here, exponentially. There is so much to observe, so much to theorize on and then potentially prove or disprove.

He loves his job, really he does, he knows he is honored to be working here.

But breaking a bone hurts like a bitch. He curls up on his side and clicks off the light, remembers to remove his glasses only after he's already smashed them into his face via the pillow. He thinks about Barney removing his boots and jeans in the other room, about the months they've spent going to that bar or sneaking places they probably shouldn't. Lauren Calhoun hugging him and thanking him for keeping her brother out of trouble. It was her birthday soon, Gordon knew because Barney was at a loss for what to get her. Gordon's suggestion of flowers had been taken well, he only hoped Barney knew what she was and wasn't allergic to.

Gordon is allergic to dandelions, not that they were a flower usually used in bouquets, they were a weed, but still. Not that anyone had ever even gotten him flowers? Not even Kyle, although it wasn't as if they were open about their relationship anyway. When Kyle told him he was getting married but that didn't mean they needed to stop fucking, Gordon had politely ended it with him. Gordon had really wanted to deck Kyle and call him a bastard but well, the ever-present anger simmering under the surface had never exploded yet and Gordon was a patient man, maybe he never would - fated instead to go on in life with a steady undercurrent of seething rage. Was that actually normal? He didn't know to be honest.

He's thinking of what flowers Barney would get him, when he falls asleep.

You look like, a perfect fit, for a girl in need of a tourniquet.

Gordon sways along to Aimee Mann in the shower, eyes shut and head tilted up to the shower's spray, washing his hair with one hand.

But can you save me, come on and save me.

Gordon prefers vinyl but the bathroom isn't the place for his record player, so he listens to the CD he mail-ordered. He hasn't actually seen Magnolia, but he's listened to the soundtrack on repeat more than once while working. It fits his hangover just fine today.

If you could save me, from the ranks of the freaks, who suspect they could never love anyone.

He hangs his head down for the rinse, mouths out the words as the hot-hot water slides soap over his shoulders. There is a bang on the door and Barney's informal, "I'm comin' in."

Over Aimee Mann's voice crooning out Gordon's emotional state of being a perpetual bachelor in need of affection and human connection is the sound of Barney getting ready for work, swishing Gordon's mouth-wash, cleaning his face, flushing the toilet. "If you stay in there much longer you're gonna be late again, Gord." Barney warns him.

Gordon flips him off by sticking his hand out of the curtain and Barney laughs before letting himself out.

Except the freaks who could never love anyone.

When Gordon goes to run out the door, shoving his arm back into the sling and gathering the read-outs he'd dropped off before heading out to the bar he notices the cup of coffee Barney had made for him, waiting right there next to the door.

It is painfully domestic and Gordon sips his coffee as the tram carries him toward AnMat, perfectly sweetened and mellowed out with a heavy scoop of non-dairy creamer. Creamer of which Barney liked to tell him could cause cancer, even while putting it in his coffee for him, but if Gordon is going to get cancer from anything it will likely be a computer monitor. Also, Barney drinks his coffee plain and black which clearly means he has no soul or taste buds.

The guard who lets him out at the tram is named Harold, which Gordon knows because he's beat him at beer pong in the Security dorms above ground an undetermined amount of times. "Did Barney hook up in town or was he slumming it down with you guys?"

Gordon grins at him which is answer enough, he raises his cup of coffee to the man when he keys in the code for him and does the retinal scan. Some days more of the security staff will talk to him than the science staff and he knows he owes that to Barney, who had somehow decided he belonged at their weekly gatherings. He wonders sometimes what they think of him, if he's the weird mute nerd, or if he's actually been accepted as it seems he has.

The guard on the front desk gives him his messages, Dr. Vance wants to check in with him on the training yesterday and his request to use the supercomputer to run computations has gone through. When he throws the empty paper cup over his shoulder and effortlessly lands it in the waste bin on his way out it is to a short shout of excitement from the guard and the combined looks of annoyance and confusion from the loitering scientists and techs. This is probably why he 1. wins at beer pong all the time and 2. has more contact with the security team than his own.

He scarfs down a cold poptart in the break room and buys a bottle of overpriced water from the machine because he's starting to actually consider Barney's theory about the onsite water treatment facility putting mind-altering drugs into the tap water. The aging microwave hasn't given up yet but whenever he microwaves his poptarts someone looks at him weird and points out the perfectly working toaster.

He's just setting up at his desk to bring up the schedule for the supercomputer when Dr. Vance enters and shuts the door behind him, not actually the usual protocol for a meeting, Gordon instantly worries he's messed something up and the older man is going to gently berate him outside of earshot of the rest of AnMat. He wasn't THAT late!

What did I do?

Dr. Vance's kind face immediately takes on a rather guilty appearance, "No, no Gor- Doctor Freeman, you're fine. I just heard what happened during your training simulation yesterday and wanted to check on you." Gordon is aware that Eli Vance is a father, he's never met his child but he has been the recipient of a few nearly fatherly interactions with the man. Relief pours over him as he realizes he is just being worried after and hasn't messed up an equation or something serious.

I'm fine.

"You know, if it gets too much, you can always pause your training." Dr. Vance says it gently like it's not the most terrifying thing Gordon has ever considered. Months, they'd lose months of time, would have to train someone else and no one is even near Gordon's placement. He has been training with the HEV suit and anomalous environments for months now, he's the youngest scientist in AnMat. He had literally been physically training for half a year already, numb with horror he shakes his head and something in his expression must be less blank than he'd like it to be, because Dr. Vance gives a soft sigh, "The tests will wait, Gordon, you have to think about yourself too."

I'm fine. He signs it harder this time.

"You don't have to burn yourself out, you're young yet."

Gordon wants to tell him he's not that much younger than him, that just because he's married and has a kid and has seniority in AnMat, just because Gordon is a shut in who wont kiss his best friend, doesn't mean Gordon needs someone to tell him he doesn't have to break his body to pieces to prove a point. Because he knows that's what this is, it's the time the professor he was TA to had to take him aside in his office, hand warm and comforting on Gordon's shoulder and told him he wasn't going to green-light Gordon's request to double up his classes. He could have graduated two years earlier, damn it!

Thank you Dr. Vance, your concern is very kind. But I really am fine.

Smile, smile through the rage boiling under the surface. Dr. Vance gives up with a kind smile and a shrug of the shoulders.

The rage stays, all through his early morning meetings, the equations he runs on the supercomputer, lunch taken in silence, and the remaining hours spent running computations on the newest materials borrowed from Lambda. The frustration mounts when Dr. Keller, who doesn't know ASL, comes to 'discuss' his work on the last batch of materials and 'really this one equation just seems off' and he has to use the white-board to argue with the man, not argue, discuss their disagreement passively and with an objective toward polite reconciliation and a working resolution. Dr. Keller cuts Gordon off a few times, hard to do when Gordon is mute, and yet.

He excuses himself when it proves that Dr. Keller is too fucking stupid to admit he's wrong, doing so with a polite smile and and an apologetic wave. Takes his lab results and himself and shuts everything out in his office.

Barney must have gone everywhere looking for him, when he finds Gordon in the security dorm's gym, running his rage out on the treadmill he looks a little out of breath.

"Want to hit the shooting range with me?" Barney asks, as if he knows, as if just by looking at Gordon's carefully passive face, tense shoulders, and discarded arm sling, what a shit awful day he's had.

He dumps the arm sling in the trash on the way out, his arm aches down to the very bone and they told him to rest it for a week but the break is mended and the bruises are hidden by the long sleeve of his sweater so whose to say he was even hurt at all? He catches Barney looking at his arm a few times but the guard, his friend, says nothing about it all through the shooting range.

It was a rarity, that they do this. Gordon had asked Barney to teach him when he'd followed him in a few too many times during a conversation and had to wait. Something more to do with his hands, and the familiar motions center him as he checks the chamber and loads the beretta m9. Barney leans carefully in the opening of the booth behind him as Gordon unloads five of the fifteen rounds perfectly into the center of the moving target. The security staff who had seen him shoot had told him his mantra of 'it's just physics' was bullshit but that's really all it was. Computational math of trajectory and environmental input. There wasn't anything like windspeed in the firing range, but the few times he'd gone with Barney to the open-air range in town had been similarly (un)spectacular for Gordon.

His body feels loose after the guns are checked back in and the sweat has dried on his skin. Barney trails alongside him through the quiet tunnels of Black Mesa, toward the Science housing. "I'm sure glad we're friends so when you inevitably go postal I might survive." Barney is grinning at him, and Gordon smirk softly back at him.

He doesn't have to ask Barney inside, the guard follows him in too, and before Gordon can offer him a drink, Barney shocks him.

Gordon is tactile, he touches people, mostly unconsciously. Grounds himself in physicality and has always been a kinetic learner, retaining information by doing. In contrast Barney largely keeps his hands to himself. Over the months he's opened up with Gordon, yeah, but when he gently takes Gordon's arm in his strong sure hands, it is completely unexpected. Barney pushed his sleeve up, all the way to his elbow and Gordon stares down in numb shock. The bruising is ugly and mottled on his pale freckled skin, contrasted with the tan of Barney's hands it looks even worse.

"Gord, you gotta take care of yourself." When Barney says this it does not cause the same stream of anger to flow down his throat. It is a thrill of cool ice-water down his spine, a tingle along his nerve endings, makes his stomach clench up and get all fluttery at once. "Lets get some ice on this for twenty minutes and then put a heating pack on it, this has to be hurting you."

It does hurt, but with Barney's gentle hands holding his arm, he can barely feel it. They should bottle this up, Barney's warm concern, because it does more for Gordon than 10 mgms of morphine does, fuck.

Barney sets him down on the couch and puts a bag of frozen green beans on his arm. They watch a bootleg tape of MST3K Gordon swapped on the underground tape-trading circuit while Barney carefully times out alternating heating pad and frozen vegetable usage. Eventually Gordon starts to fall asleep to the sound of Tom Servo crooning out 'Creepy Girl' only rousing when he feels Barney's hand gently brush his hair back.

It feels so good that he closes his eyes and leans into it, so Barney does it again, gently carding his fingers through Gordon's hair. If he wasn't so bone-deep exhausted he might even be freaking out about this right now, but Barney is touching him and doesn't seem like it's something weird.

He blinks over at his friend in the light provided by the tv screen and the kitchenette's overhead. Warm smile, soft eyes, dark hair and five-o-clock shadow. Barney ruffles up his hair and finally removes his hand, "You need to eat something."

Probably.

But all he wants to do is sleep. So he doses off while Barney does something in his kitchen. He listens to it, pots and knife to chopping board. He doesn't even remember what he has in the half-fridge but Barney must have found whatever something is. When he presents Gordon with a bowl of ramen that has been beefed up with a soft boiled egg and vegetables he isn't too surprised.

Thanks.

He laughs silently and Barney settles down to eat his own bowl, they watch the end of the tape and Gordon turns off the white-noise static of the TV.

"So, whatcha doin' this weekend?" Barney asks him.

Nothing yet, what do you have in mind?

Barney grins at him softly and Gordon turns his attention to the noodles floating in cheap broth, because if he keeps looking at Barney right now, he might do something really stupid. Might do something like close the distance and kiss him or ask Barney to please touch his hair again because he thinks he could get addicted to that feeling if he isn't already, he is though. Barney is terribly easy to get addicted to.

[anotheronechicagobog]

Back In Chicago Part 5 Jay Halstead x Choi!reader

written by @anotheronechicagobog​

warnings: mention on canon violence, Choi can be an ass sometimes so he isn’t OOC in this, mention of death

A/N: Sorry it’s so short

Also, Caskata is a Brazillian name that means like a waterfall- strong and persistent. I like unique names with deep meanings (probably biased cause my name is unique with a deep meaning lol)

Heated sunrays irritated you awake. You hated closing the curtains before you went to bed, but hated waking up to the sun blasting you in the face, making you all hot and sweaty before the day had even begun. Your pillow vibrated and shook underneath your head, you noted that you probably fell asleep on your boyfriend’s chest instead of your pillow again, but couldn’t bring yourself to care. You knew how much he loved it. “Good morning gorgeous.”

“Flattery will not get me out of bed.”

“No, but the reminder that the sun is about to make it even hotter in here might.”

“... Fine. I’m getting up. You shower first, I’ll start breakfast.”

“Okay. Hey, I love you.” You smiled as he gave you a quick kiss. “I love you too.”

Once both of you were showered and sitting down to eat, you noticed that Jay really looked like he wanted to say something. And you had an inkling as to what it was about. “I’m not going to talk to my dad, Jay. I know that you think you’re what came between us, but that’s not true. He pulls this traditionalist sexist stuff on me all the time. I am always the one to apologize and mend our relationship, but not this time. I want to be on good terms with him so, so badly, but it will do nothing coddle and enable him to keep up his behaviour. And I have gained too much self-respect to let that happen. I want Caskata to have it better than I did, and I’m going to do what I can to make it happen.”

“I know, I just don’t want you to regret it if something happens.”

“I appreciate that you’re thinking about me, and I get where you’re coming from, but I am really proud of myself. I have never stood up to him like this before, and I feel... Strong. Powerful. And it feels good.”

“It looks good too.”

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

Work kept you busy, a steady stream of patients flittering into your schedule all day. Some needed to see you, some just needed you to do the pre-doctor questions and measurements. It was a nice change of pace, compared with what you were used to. Imagine working at the ED but in underdeveloped, overcrowded, underfunded, and understaffed hospitals and clinics. It was nice to get a doctor because they had a patient waiting for them, alive, as opposed to needing them to declare death. Still, you tensed and prepared for the worst when you were asked “Choi, get the doctor.” It didn’t have the same implications as it had at your previous jobs but you couldn’t just drop a reaction that had been ingrained in you. In the way you perceived your work. “Y/L/N, someone’s on the phone for you.”

“What? Who would call me here instead of my cell?”

“I don’t know, but can you make it quick and ask them not to do it again?”

“Sure thing. Hello?”

“Am I speaking to Y/N Choi?”

“Yes, who is this?”

“I am nurse Gertrude Marsh, I’m calling from the Gaffney medical centre, you are the emergency contact for detective Jay Halstead, correct?”

“Yes, oh my god, is he okay?”

“I cannot give out his condition over the phone, how long will it take you to get to the emergency department?”

“Twenty-five minutes.” You didn’t wait for a response, hung up, and ran to find your boss.

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

You weren’t sure how you did it, but you got to the ED in fifteen minutes rather than twenty-five. “My name is Y/N Choi, I’m here for Jay Halstead, I’m his girlfriend and emergency contact.”

“Doctor Bekker? She’s here.”

“I am doctor Ava Bekker, please come with me. Jay is in dire need of surgery but we need you to approve it.”

“What’s his condition?” 

“Minor concussion, stab wound in his lower right abdomen, nicked his large intestine. The bleeding was expected to stop on its own and then we’d just stitch him up but it hasn’t, we suspect there’s more damage-”

“But you won’t be able to find the other source, or sources, of bleeding unless you operate. Do it. You have my consent.”

Then suddenly it was like Dr. Bekker had never been beside you in the first place, as she turned into a blonde blur giving orders and running to the OR. You managed to kiss Jay on the forehead before they took him away.

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

Will was also, understandably and visibly, distraught. You sat in the surgical waiting room, side by side. Natalie had come by with deli sandwiches and coffee when it became apparent that it would take a small army, or Maggie, to move either of you. The surgery wasn’t done. It was running longer than it should. Both you and Will knew it. You hadn’t gotten an update in a while, and you were trying not to think about the implications of that. 

Ava exited the surgical room and entered the waiting room, no longer in her surgical scrubs. “Y/N, Will. There were some complications, but Jay pulled through. We repaired all the damage. You both will be able to see him in two hours in post-op. I would recommend getting something to eat. I have it on good authority that you haven’t eaten since yesterday and if you don’t take care of yourselves now I’ll sick Maggie on you.” And with that she turned on her heel and left the waiting room.

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

You’d gone home quickly to shower and change before coming back, only killing half an hour. You sat in the waiting room again, alone this time, when your dad approached you. “Here. I know it’s junk food, but you need to eat something and nothing else was open this late.” He handed you a pizza box which undoubtedly contained a small deep-dish pizza. You took the box gingerly and placed it on the tray table next to you. “Y/N, I am sorry. You were right, I had no right to treat you, or any woman, that way. I was wrong. The way I have been behaving and acting just as wrong. I didn’t realize it until recently, but I felt entitled to your decisions, which isn’t okay. I shouldn’t have done that and I know that just saying ‘I’m sorry’ won’t fix everything. So I would like to earn your trust and affection back. If that’s okay with you, of course.”

“I would really like that dad. Though I wish I’d had a camera to record you saying you're wrong...”

“Haha, very funny.”

“Seriously? I had to get stabbed for you apologize to Y/N?”

“Jay! I’m so glad that you’re okay. How are you feeling?”

He chuckled and held your cheek gently “Like I just got stabbed and pushed down a flight of stairs.”

“Isn’t that what Sergeant Voight said what happened to you?”

“Yes dad, it is. He was trying to make a joke.”

[oboevallis]

Hi! I loved Advice 1 and 2. So now I’m here to request u to write one about Carolyn calling Amelia while she was pregnant and ask if she’s taking her vitamins, resting, eating, like her symptoms and things like that - thank you!

advice pt 3

thanks for the prompt i really appreciate it! i hope this is okay im not sure if it’s what’s your wanted but i can alwahs rewrite it, ive recently started watching judging amy (Tyne Daly the actress who plays Carolyn on greys, also plays the mother in this show, theyre both similar) so ive felt like i can write carolyn better with her mannerisms and how she speaks and such, hope you guys enjoy and stay safe!

“Sorry I missed your call earlier, I was in surgery.” Amelia said once her mother answered. She flopped down on the couch in the attendings lounge. She just finished a grueling surgery, the toll of her new pregnancy finally getting to her.

“No worries, I’ve raised five doctors I know the drill by now. So how have you been? It’s been a while since I’ve spoken to you.”

“Yeah, yeah I’m good. Busy, lots of surgeries and stuff.”

“Hmm, anything new going on with you?”

“No, nope not really.” Amelia quickly answered, she doubted that her mother knew about her pregnancy. The two were working on mending their relationship, and she was weary to talk about her pregnancy in the first place.

“Hmm, really? Nothing? Nothing you want to tell me?” Amelia sighed deeply.

“How’d you find out?”

“Addison may of mentioned something to Nancy who mentioned something to Kathleen who mentioned something to me. Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?”

“I don’t know.”

“I thought we were to the place where you could tell me stuff like this. This is a good thing Amelia.”

“I know, I just haven’t really told anyone, sorry.” Amelia felt as though she was little again and had just gotten scolded.

“Amelia I know that this-“ Carolyn began, but then stopped herself, she didn’t want to upset her daughter. “Never mind.”

“No what were you going to say?” Amelia asked quickly sensing what her mother knew. She sat up on the couch.

“I was just going to say that this pregnancy must be hard on you, because of your son.”

“Addison told you?” Amelia asked with tears in her eyes. She quickly got up and grabbed her bag from her cubby, heading towards her car not wanting to cry in the middle of the attendings lounge.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, no it’s fine. It’s just I don’t know how you know.I just can’t believe she broke HIPPA, I can sue her.” Amelia practically yelled as she slammed her car door.

“We both know your not suing Addie. She was worried about you, and when she told me about your pregnancy it was before she knew the diagnosis.”

“So you know what happened?” Amelia asked in a small voice, trying not to cry.

“I do” Carolyn hesitated for a moment. “I didn’t have words for to comfort you on the cruel ironies of the world. I didn’t know how to help you. I wish I could’ve, I wish I would’ve come down and just been with you, but I think you made a very brave decision. That wasn’t a decision many other mothers could’ve made.”

“I didn’t want you there, I didn’t want anyone there, you couldn’t have helped.” Amelia wiped at the tears falling down her flushed cheeks.

“I know this pregnancy must be very hard on you. Does Link know about your baby?”

“Yeah, I told him. About everything.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah, he was the first person I told the full story to. And when I did it, I knew he wasn’t going to judge me or look at me differently. He accepted it and accepts me and he just understands.”

“I’m glad Amy, he seems very kind.”

“He is inexplicably kind.”

“I know you love the OR, but now that your pregnant you really need to sleep, Amy. You’ve never really known when to slow down, even as a kid. One day when you were in the third grade you were working on a science project for the science fair. And you stayed up the whole night to work on it, you had refused to turn the light off so Lizzie came in to my room to sleep with me.” Carolyn laughed recalling the memory.

“I can’t imagine you letting Lizzie sleep with you. She’s so restless, whenever we had a share a bed at a hotel or something she’d always kick me in her sleep.”

“Well when you have kids you get used to the abuse. And your avoiding the question.”

“I feel fine for now, once I have this baby I’m not going to be in an OR for quite awhile, so I’m just squeezing in as much as I can.”

“You need to find a different way to avoid your problems.” Amelia tried to interject, but Carolyn continued. “Amy, when you want to avoid something you push your way into an OR. And don’t try to tell me I’m wrong. But are you able to sleep? When I was pregnant with Derek I had the worst insomnia.”

“A little bit, but if I can’t sleep I just catch up on paperwork or research.”

“Try valerian root, it may be able to help you sleep. It’s perfectly safe to take while pregnant.”

“Thanks. Link will be happy, he always gets so mad at me when he wakes up and sees me working on something.” Amelia chuckled thinking back to the night before when link threw her IPad across the room.

“I’m glad your not like your sisters in this regard, they’ve always thought my herbs and homemade remedies were jokes.”

“Nice, looks like I’m moving up the favorite child leader board.”

“Amy, I do not have favorites. I love all of you equally.”

“Mom, your obligated to say that.”

“Well, you all have your good days and bad days on the leaderboard.” This caused Amelia to laugh, making Carolyn smile.

“I hope you’ll call if you need anything. I’m happy we’ve decided to put past our conflicts and differences.”

“Me too.”

“I’ve got to get going, Lizzie will be here soon. I love you, and don’t forget to take your prenatal vitamins it’s crucial.”

“Love you too.” Amelia said softly, trying her best not to let her hormones take over. She rested her head on the steering wheel. She hadn’t realized how much she needed her mother. A knocking on the window caused her to jump, dragging her out of her thoughts.

“Whatca doing in your car?” Link asked once Amelia rolled down the window, leaning against her car. He then noticed she’d been crying. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m really great actually.” Amelia genuinely said wiping the remnants of her tears. “Umm, I was on the phone with my mom.”

“How’d that go?” Link asked his eyebrows raised, he wasn’t expecting to hear that.

“At first I was pissed, but now I’m really really good. I hadn’t realized how much I needed her.” Link smiled, happy his girlfriend told her about their baby. “Are you on your lunch break?”

“Yeah, I was just coming to find you.”

“Okay get in. We’ll got get some burgers.”

“Sounds like a solid plan to me.” Link smiled making his way to the other side of the car.

[etherealwaifgoddess]

Run To You, Chpt.4

Summary: Bucky mends things with Steve and together they move forward to the next step in the relationship. Master list is HERE :)

Content Warnings: Some lovely smut towards the end of the chapter

Word Count: 5.3k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! I originally had this broken out into two smaller chapters but then I decided the hell with it and am giving you one giant monster of a chapter instead. So please enjoy this 5.3k word beast which contains lots of sweet fluff and some steamy smut towards the end. XOXO - Ash

Chapter Four

The communication black out lasts three days. It’s the longest they’ve gone without talking or texting since they met over a month ago. Bucky is surlier than usual and eventually Natasha calls him out on it. He wants to pick a fight with her when she does but he’s running late for his shift and he has to hurry out the door, settling for just flipping her off as he leaves. Natasha, however, is undeterred and proceeds to text him, letting him know exactly what she thinks of the situation. 

It’s a slow night in the ER and Bucky can’t stand the down time. All he can think about is the fight with Steve. Well, not even a fight really. Steve pissed him off and he did what he does best: he ran. The more Bucky thinks about it, the more he feels like an ass. He knows how socially awkward Steve is, how he’s not always sure of societal norms. It’s not all that surprising that Steve would make a faux paux, but Bucky’s reaction to it wasn’t okay. The longer he dwells on it the more he realizes how very not okay it was. 

Bucky is forced to take his mid-shift break when Darcy comes on rotation, the tiny woman physically shoving him towards the break room and telling him to catch a nap if he can. She’s been a good friend since he started there three years ago, and she knows how much the overnight shift wears on him. Bucky stares at his phone, wondering if a text would wake Steve. He hopes not, it’s just past two in the morning and no one deserves to be woken up by an apology text at that hour. Bucky types, and retypes, and retypes again, the best apology he can muster. After staring at his phone for another five minutes, willing the message to send itself, he deletes it, settling for a simple: I’m sorry for what happened. Can we talk when you have time?

Sighing in relief that the dreaded text is sent, Bucky lays back on one of the break room cots and starts scrolling through his Instagram feed. He barely gets through Clint’s latest story when his phone rings, Steve’s goofy contact photo lighting up the screen. Shocked, Bucky flails and drops the phone, the damned device sliding under the cot where Bucky has to crawl down to get it, frantically trying to answer the call in time. “Hello!” he shouts breathlessly as he swipes to accept the call. 

“Bucky?” Steve asks, confused and concerned by Bucky’s breathless tone.

“Sorry, dropped my phone. I’m here.” 

“Oh, is it okay? I’ve broken four iPhones dropping them. I’m pretty sure Tony is ready to kill me, but they’re just so fragile.” 

Bucky smirks, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice. “It’s fine, thanks. How on earth did you manage to destroy an iPhone just by dropping it though? They’re fragile but my buddy Clint drops his daily and it’s fine.” 

Steve chuckles, a self depreciating rumble, “Well, when you drop them while exiting a Quinjet in mid air they don’t typically make it to the ground in one piece. And one time it was off a building but really, that time it just slipped right out of my hand. Even super soldier reflexes couldn’t catch it.” 

The laugh Bucky was suppressing bursts free. “Oh god, no wonder Stark wants to kill you.” 

There’s a beat of silence after Bucky’s laughter dies down. It’s heavy, the reason for the call hanging in the air. “It’s real good to hear your voice.” Steve admits quietly. 

Bucky’s heart clenches, “Yeah, it’s good to hear yours too. I didn’t mean to bolt like that. I’m sorry I didn’t give us a chance to talk it out.” 

“You weren’t wrong. I don’t know her, and it was thoughtless of me to trivialize your problems by trying to solve them for you.” 

“You were just being a good person. I get why you wanted to help. In the moment though, I felt like you thought I couldn’t take care of my own kid. And I’m sorry, but that’s probably always going to be a sore point for me. I fight like hell everyday to give that little girl a better life than I had and I’m damned proud of that. But… I still shouldn’t have run out on you like that.” 

“Buck… I… I would never think for a minute that you can’t take care of her. She’s so lucky she has you raising her, you’re an amazing parent. I’m sorry if I made you feel otherwise.” 

Bucky sniffed roughly, ignoring the burning of unshed tears, “Thanks, Steve. It means a lot. And I promise the next time we disagree with something, I won’t go running off without us talking things through. I really like you, Steve. I want to give us a real chance.” 

“I really like you too, a lot. Can I see you later this week? Maybe we can have a do over at the cafe and you can actually eat your chocolate chip pancakes this time. They were really good, you missed out.” 

“Yeah, we can do that. I was really looking forward to… wait, what? Did you eat my pancakes?” 

“Um, well, I took them home thinking I’d be able to give them to you later. But then you didn’t reach out and I didn’t want them going to waste. I’m sorry?” 

“Nah, it’s good someone ate them. I really was looking forward to them, though. I have off all day tomorrow for Becca’s appointment if you’re free. And you know who else really likes chocolate chip pancakes?” He waits a beat for Steve to guess but the other man is silent on the other end of the line, “Becca.” 

Steve is quite another moment before finally responding. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m rushing you. If you’re not ready for me to meet her, that’s okay. I’ll wait as long as it takes until you’re comfortable.” 

“We’re not rushing, it’s time. Tomorrow will be good because if she does get glasses, which is likely, we’ll be able to celebrate with dinner out for her. Honestly, she’s going to take one look at those giant pancakes and you will be an afterthought. She loves my friends who help watch her but I’ve never introduced her to a boyfriend before so I’m not sure how she’ll take that. Hopefully this will make it a good experience for her.” 

“Ah yes, bribing small children with baked goods and sugar. I’m all in favor of that.” 

Bucky chuckles, “Whatever works. So, we’ll see you tomorrow? Maybe around five thirty?” 

“Yeah, I can do that. I’ll see you two then.” 

“See you then.” Bucky disconnects the call, a wide smile plastered on his face. He really likes Steve and feels like this relationship could be different from his past ones. 

Bucky’s good mood is noticeable and gets him teased by both Darcy and Carol at work, followed by Clint when he arrives home later that morning. He can’t be bothered by their affectionate jabs though, he knows he has it bad. He hasn’t mentioned to his friends who Steve is, as in Captain America, only saying he’s a cute guy he met in the bodega near his house. Only Natasha knows the whole truth but she eats secrets like M&Ms so he has no fears of her saying anything to anyone. 

xxXxx

Becca is surprisingly cooperative getting ready for preschool, even after Bucky reminds her she has a doctor’s appointment afterwards. She’s so used to seeing her various doctors that it doesn’t even phase her outside the concern if this new doctor will have a good prize box like her breathing specialist does or if they’ll just have stickers like her normal pediatrician. Bucky reminds her that not all doctors have prize boxes and she should be nice to them no matter what. Becca nods but tells him that he should really ask these sort of questions when he calls for an appointment. It’s through ironclad self control that he manages not to laugh until she’s through the doors of Applegate Academy. His little girl is a spitfire and he loves it. 

Bucky manages to snag a few hours of sleep while Becca’s at school. He can’t wait for Monday when he’s off again and can sleep for a full night like a normal person. Cat naps on his breaks at the ER and a few hours here and there at home never seem to be enough when his rotation schedule has too many days in a row. Bucky dresses quickly, not wanting to show up in his sweats despite knowing the cafe is definitely a casual meet up. He’s still unsure how Becca is going to handle meeting Steve. Sometimes she’s all bravado and personality, others she tucks herself behind Bucky’s legs to shy away. There’s never a rhyme or reason to it and the pediatrician said it’s normal preschooler behavior. Bucky can only hope it goes well for all of them. He has enough to worry about with the eye doctor’s appointment. 

Becca decides she loves her optometrist the second she sits down in the exam chair. Dr. Gibbons is a soft spoken older man with greying hair and a deeply lined face. He makes Becca giggle throughout the appointment with his antics which keep the visit stress free for the little girl. After running through a series of tests he confirms what the school suspected, Becca does need glasses. The doctor explains that Becca’s prescription is only a -1.75 so it’s not surprising she hadn’t shown more noticeable symptoms. Bucky fights back the tears that prickle along the corners of his eyes at the news; relief washing over him that this wasn’t something he’d blatantly missed. 

Shopping for glasses is a bit of a challenge considering Becca thinks she’s a princess and Bucky’s wallet begs to differ. He lucks out that they have a sale going and he steers Becca to the shelf of glasses that he can get for a reasonable price. She does finally pick a pair from the sale shelf that she says make her look like a librarian, which is her current career aspiration since she met the school librarian a month ago. Bucky chuckles and assures her she looks very nice. The doctor offers to have them ready to pick up in an hour which leaves them with enough time to walk down the block to the community park they passed on their way. Becca throws herself around the jungle gym like a wild animal and it makes Bucky thankful he spent the extra money on a protection plan on her new glasses. She’s an active little girl and he’d rather pay a extra few dollars now than buy a whole new pair of glasses when something happens. 

The glasses come out perfect and barely need adjusting to fit Becca’s face. The tortoise shell frames stand out against her pale face making her grey-blue eyes even more pronounced. Bucky is full of emotion watching her tilt her head from side to side examining how she looks until finally announcing they’re marvelous and taking off to see how far away she can see now. Bucky hands over his debit card, cringing at the total but thankful he had enough to cover them without completely wiping out his savings. Becca is oblivious to his stress, thankfully, and spends the whole walk to the cafe pointing out things she can see now like little symbols on store signs and smaller items on display in store windows. It’s like the whole world has opened up for her and Bucky couldn’t be happier for his little girl. The awning of the cafe comes into view and Bucky braces himself for the impending meeting. The first half of their day went well, now he just has to hope the second part does too. 

xxXxx

Becca shrieks when she sees the tiny honey bees on the sign of the cafe. Her love affair with bugs of all sorts has her grilling the waitress about bees while they’re led to a table. The poor waitress at least knows enough about bees to keep the conversation going, although the cafe itself is more wildflower themed than bee themed. The tiny honey bees on the sign were more of an afterthought than the main artwork. Becca is still on her bee tangent when Steve walks in, looking around and spotting them easily. 

“Becs,” Bucky gets her attention, “Remember that I said we’re meeting my friend Steve here too? And that you have to be on your very best behavior?”

Becca nods, “I know. I’ll be good. And then I’ll get pancakes as big as my head.” 

“You got it. Steve is here and he’s coming over so remember your manners please.” Bucky waves Steve over, the blonde was actually waiting for Bucky to give him permission before approaching. It’s sweet and considerate and makes Bucky think he was right in entrusting Steve to meet his little girl. 

Becca hops up as Steve approaches and stands ramrod straight, her little hand extended towards him. “Hello.” she says in her most polite tone, “I’m Rebecca Grace Barnes, but you can call me Becca.” 

Steve looks like he would melt into a puddle on the floor if he physically could. Instead, he crouches down to her level and shakes her hand gently. “Nice to meet you, Becca. I’m Steven Grant Rogers, but you can call me Steve.” 

Becca giggles, “That’s silly. You have Captain America’s name.” 

“Oh god.” Bucky mutters under his breath while Steve blushes brightly. 

Steve pulls his SHIELD ID card out of his wallet and flashes it to Becca. Her eyes widen and Steve presses a finger to his lips making a shhh sound.  

Becca spins around to Bucky glaring, “Why didn’t you bring Captain America home before?!” she demands. “He’s way cooler than Chrissy’s stupid uncle who was on TV.” 

“Rebecca Grace!” Bucky hisses. “This is my friend, not someone for you to brag to your classmates about.” 

Becca cringes, she hates being scolded. “Sorry Bucky. Sorry Steve.” she pouts, reclaiming her seat. 

“It’s okay,” Steve assures her as he takes his seat across the table from her. “I know you were just excited.” he turns to look at Bucky, drinking in the sight of him after the long days of radio silence. “It’s good to see you.” Steve reaches out across the table for Bucky’s hand and the brunette extends his to meet Steve halfway. 

“You too. I missed you.” Bucky tells him, giving Steve’s hand a squeeze. The moment is soft and full of unspoken words, words unsuitable for the tiny ears that aren’t missing a beat. 

Becca watches them with narrowed eyes. “Is Steve a friend you kiss?” she asks, breaking their tender moment.

Steve blushes again, hard, and Bucky can’t help but grin. Steve is painfully adorable when he blushes. “Yeah, Becs. Steve is my boyfriend.” 

“Tommy’s mom has a boyfriend. Tommy says he takes him to Coney Island and lets him have funnel cake for dinner. Can we go to Coney Island?” 

Steve helplessly looks to Bucky who just nods subtly. “Sure, Becca. We can do that sometime.” Steve assures her once Bucky has made his assent clear. “I like spending time with your brother and I’d like to spend time with you too, if that’s okay.” 

“I guess that’s okay.” 

Bucky shoots Steve a thumbs up and tries not to laugh. “Why don’t you pick out your dinner, Becs? It’s your celebration dinner, you can have whatever you want.” 

“What are we celebrating?” Steve asks, wanting to give Becca a chance to tell him even though he already knows.

“My glasses!” she announces excitedly. “They’re new. Do you like them?”

“They’re very nice.” 

Becca launches into her spiel on how she wants to be a librarian and the librarian at her school has glasses like these and so does the librarian at the public library so now she looks like them and she can be a librarian when she grows up. Steve nods and smiles at the appropriate times, completely enamored by her. Becca’s expressions are identical to Bucky’s, the Barnes family genes running strong between the pair of siblings. She’s lively despite her small size and Steve finds himself thinking back to when he was just a feisty little thing himself. 

When the waitress comes back around, Becca orders chocolate chip pancakes and hot cocoa. Bucky and Steve follow suit ordering breakfast for dinner; Bucky looking forward to finally getting to enjoy his own order of chocolate chip pancakes. Becca attacks her food the second it’s in front of her, letting Steve and Bucky chat while she eats. They catch up with how Steve’s been doing since his last mission and how much Bucky’s looking forward to a day off and going back on daytime rotations soon. Steve is surprised by how easily the meal goes with Becca. She’s such a sweetheart and he worries he’ll be wrapped around her little finger in no time at all. 

The validity of concern comes to fruition as soon as they leave the cafe. Steve gives Bucky a chaste kiss, promising to text him later when Becca tugs on the hem of his shirt. She’s tired, leaning heavily on Bucky’s leg and waiting for Steve to stoop down to her level. 

“What’s up, Becca?” Steve asks once he’s down face to face with her.

“Can you tuck me in tonight? I bet you have better bedtime stories than Bucky.” 

Bucky tries to look offended but fails, barely suppressing a laugh while he shrugs at Steve.

“If you’re sure.” Steve says carefully. “But I’m probably just as boring as your brother.” 

“Nah, you’re super cool. Please come home and tuck me in?” 

“Okay, lead the way.” 

Becca takes Steve’s hand but is dragging behind him after a few blocks. “Steeeve.” she whines, “Carry me?” 

Steve doesn’t even hesitate, he just scoops the little girl up in his arms and pops her on top of his shoulders. 

“It’s so tall up here.” she mumbles, leaning her head on the top of his like it’s a pillow.

Bucky gives Steve an apologetic look but Steve just smiles. He really doesn’t mind in the least. Steve always wanted kids but never expected it to be in the cards for him. He was so sickly growing up he felt that he couldn’t in good conscious pass along his genes and risk a child having all the health issues he did. And that was even if he found a woman who would have had his 90 pound asthmatic self for a husband. Steve had always known he was bisexual and had leaned towards a preference for men, but that would have posed a whole other set of issues for him back in the 1940s and would have ruled out any possible chance of children for sure. Now though, he’s able to openly date a wonderful man who just happens to come with a kid in tow. It’s everything he’s ever dared to hope for and Steve tries to slow his racing thoughts to no avail. He hopes and wishes and prays that the rush of affection he feels for this man lasts and grows. Steve has never felt so in sync with someone before and it’s hard to slow down his emotions because of it. 

Becca is practically asleep when they get back to their apartment. Bucky’s been keeping an eye on her as the moments between her blinks slow, until her eyes stay closed and she’s draped over Steve’s head and shoulders like an obnoxious hat. “She’s almost out.” Bucky whispers to Steve as they climb the stairs to his apartment.

“Do you think she’ll still want a story?” Steve asks quietly. He’s been trying to remember stories his ma told him along the way. He knows bits and pieces of a few and hopes she isn’t going to be too picky. 

“Depends. If she wakes up a bit when you put her down, you’re not getting away without a story. If the eyes stay mostly closed, you can escape with just a hug.”

“You have it down to a science.” Steve jokes.

“It happens.” Bucky shrugs. The truth is, Becca is a pretty easy to read kid. She’s expressive and open which makes anticipating her needs extremely easy. Bucky had gotten so lucky with Becca; she had been an easy baby, a happy toddler, and was now an easy going preschooler. Natasha likes to tease that she’s lulling him into complacency and the real struggle will hit during her teenage years, but Bucky has a feeling she’s just a genuinely good kid. Admittedly though, he’s probably a little biased.

“It’s not much, but it’s ours.” Bucky tells Steve as they enter their tiny apartment. He leads Steve down to Becca’s room so he can pull her off the blonde's shoulders and lay her down in her bed. 

Becca stirs and blinks blearily, not fully waking up. “Steve?” she mumbled.

“Yep, I’m here.” Steve pulls up her lady bug print sheets, making sure she’s well tucked in. “You sleep tight, okay?” 

Becca mumbles something unintelligible and then flings her arms out for a hug. Steve leans in and carefully returns her embrace. 

“Night Steve. Night Bucky. Love you.” she says with a yawn before sprawling out to get comfortable. 

The men quietly exit Becca’s room, Bucky closing the door behind them so they can head down the hall to the living room. 

“Thanks for doing that.” Bucky says once they’re standing by the sofa. “She seems to really like you.” 

“The feeling’s mutual.” Steve admits. “She’s a great kid, Bucky.” 

“Yeah, she is. So, do you have to hurry off or would you like to stay for a bit?” 

Steve doesn’t even have to consider it. “I’ll stay.”

Bucky chuckles at Steve’s eager reply. “Come on, let’s settle in and we can watch something on Netflix.” 

Steve joins Bucky on the threadbare sofa, careful to set his weight down gently since he’s a bit larger of a man than the sofa was designed for. Bucky slumps in like he’s done a million times before, letting Steve adjust to dictate how close he wants to be. Much to his surprise and delight, Steve scoots over almost instantly to wrap an arm around Bucky’s shoulders. “This okay?” he checks in as he moves. Bucky nods and the smile on Steve’s face could light up the sun. 

They watch an old episode of Parks and Recreation, Steve recognizing the show in Bucky’s Netflix queue. He’d watched a few episodes and found he really liked it but hadn’t gotten past the third season yet. Steve doesn’t get much downtime to sit around watching TV and he cherishes the time with Bucky to just relax and bask in the affectionate warmth of each other’s company. 

“This is nice.” Steve says with a yawn as the second episode comes to an end. 

As if on cue, Bucky’s yawn echos Steve’s as he nods. “It is.” he agrees, sliding himself up a little so he’s hovering closer to Steve’s face. “It really is.”

Steve takes the hint and meets Bucky half way for a lingering, unhurried, kiss. One kiss leads to two, leads to three, and then they’re making out with Bucky practically lying on top of Steve on the small sofa. It’s less than comfortable but Steve is too wrapped up in having Bucky on top of him to mind. His mind swims, overwhelmed and unable to focus on anything other than Bucky, Bucky, Bucky. There’s a pressing hardness against Steve’s thigh and he groans when he takes notice. It feels fast but they’ve been talking for months and he hasn’t felt this close to anyone since before the ice. He slides his thigh back and forth, giving Bucky just the slightest friction until the brunette is shuddering and gasping his name. 

“Steve, wait.” Bucky rasps, pushing lightly on the other man’s shoulders. 

“You okay?” Steve checks in.

“Yeah, yeah. Just… Becca’s right down the hall.” 

Steve blushes brightly, “Sorry, I didn’t even think.” 

“It’s okay, you’re not used to having a kid around.” 

“I can go, just gimme a minute.” he laughs lightly looking down at the bulge in his slacks. “Last thing I need is someone snapping a pic of Captain America walking around with a boner.” 

Bucky barks out a laugh, “Wow, yeah. That would be bad. You don’t have to go though, I have my very own room down the hall with a door that locks. As long as you can keep quiet, we’ll be just fine.” 

“I think that can be arranged.”

Bucky grins, taking Steve’s hand in his and leading him down the hall to his bedroom. It’s nothing fancy, just a bed and dresser with a small window and closet. The navy blue bedspread has white constellations on it and Steve smiles at this new tidbit of insight into Bucky’s life. Bucky takes a moment to lock the door before pushing Steve gently back towards the bed until the back of his knees are colliding with the edge and he’s forced to sit down. It’s subtle, the way Bucky is herding Steve right where he wants him. Bucky brackets Steve’s knees with his own, forcing Steve to scoot back a little to give him space. Leaning down, Bucky captures Steve’s lips and picks up right where they left off on the sofa. 

Steve hasn’t felt small since before the serum, but this, being surrounded by Bucky under his loving touches and kisses, Steve is transported back to his pre-war self. His whole being is consumed by Bucky and he loves the overwhelmingness of it. Little gasps slip from his lips when Bucky trails kisses and little nips down the column of his throat, he can barely keep up with the sensations. Before he knows what’s happening, Steve realizes Bucky is kneeling between his legs, looking up at him in silent request. Steve nods and Bucky gets to work divesting Steve of his pants and underwear. 

Bucky groans slightly at the sight of Steve’s cock bobbing proudly upwards towards his navel. He’s long and deliciously thick, and while Bucky’s no size queen, he’s fully appreciating what Steve’s got going on. He gives Steve’s shaft a few tentative strokes, making Steve cant his head back and squeeze his eyes tightly shut. Rubbing away a bead of pre come at the tip with his thumb, Bucky lowers his head and swallows Steve down with ease. It’s been a while, a very long while, but deep throating was a skill Bucky mastered long ago. He’s always loved giving head, the intimacy of the act and the trust it requires on both parts. There’s something impossibly erotic about bringing his partner to the peaks of pleasure that can only be reached  by just the right suction and swirling of his tongue.

Steve thinks he’s died and gone to heaven as Bucky starts sucking him off in earnest. He’s had blow jobs before, hurried, rushed things back in the 30s and 40s done in secret with the fear of being discovered, and a few since waking up from the ice that were more relaxed and quite nice, but nothing could have prepared him for Bucky’s mouth. It’s like white hot electricity is flowing through his veins and he’s trembling uncontrollably as the energy coils low and tight in his belly. He can’t stop himself as he stammers, “Buck… Buck wait… I can’t…. I’m gonna…” 

It’s all the warning Bucky gets before Steve is spilling down his throat and he’s swallowing quickly trying not to lose a single drop. Steve is still shaking, the muscles in his ridiculously toned stomach dancing from the tremors. Bucky leans back on his heels, unable to hide his smirk even as he wipes the saliva from his puffy lips. 

“That was…” Steve attempts but ends up just flailing a hand in place of words. His higher brain functioning isn’t back online yet. 

Bucky bites his lip to suppress his grin, he’s pleased with himself damnit. It’s not every day he gets to reduce a national icon to a stammering mess. 

“God, Bucky.” Steve huffs, “Seriously. Fucking hell. Get up here.” Steve pulls at Bucky’s shoulders until the brunette is straddling his thighs again and Steve can start tugging at the button on Bucky’s jeans. 

Bucky lets Steve tug his jeans and boxer briefs down around his thighs, too impatient to completely take them off. “Jesus, Bucky.” Steve murmurs, still undone and reeling from what was easily the best orgasm he’s had in this century. He thankfully has the sense to spit in his palm before wrapping it around Bucky’s throbbing cock. Watching Steve come had Bucky right on a razor edge of pleasure himself and he knows he isn’t going to last much longer than Steve did. There will be time later for going slower, drawing it out, he assures himself. Right now the heated frenzy is exactly what they both need. Steve is absorbed watching the head of Bucky’s cock appear and disappear in his grasp, barely recognizing how very close Bucky already is. He twists his wrist slightly on the upward stroke, making Bucky gasp little choked off moans against his chest where the brunette has slumped forward, practically boneless. Steve grips him a little tighter, reveling in the pulsing of Bucky’s hot, fat cock in his hand and the noise it causes. He might not be as long as Steve, but his girth has Steve squirming thinking of how it would feel inside him. Despite what Tony thinks, Steve is no blushing virgin. He knows exactly what he likes in bed and his mind supplies all sorts of wonderful fantasies of Bucky giving it to him until he barely remember his own name. 

Steve is startled from his pornographic imagination when Bucky goes rigid against him, jets of come splashing all the way up his stomach to his chest. He lets up his grip and works Bucky gently through the last of his orgasm. Steve wipes his hand on Bucky’s jeans so he can wrap his arms around Bucky, letting him stay nestled against Steve’s broad chest while he comes down from his own high. 

“Why did we wait so long to do that?” Bucky asks a few minutes later, breaking the gentle silence. 

Steve chuckles, “Beats me. Don’t know how I’m gonna keep my hands off of you now though.��� 

“Hmm. Guess we’ll just have to control ourselves somehow. Or maybe we can get a babysitter sometime and really make a night of it.” 

“Yes, please, yes. Becca is great but god I want you in my bed for a whole night.” 

“I’ll talk to Nat, we’ll figure something out.” Bucky offers, heart pounding at the idea. 

Steve stifles a yawn, the late hour catching up with him. “I should head off.” he admits unhappily. 

“Let’s get you cleaned off first.” Bucky pulls his jeans and boxer briefs off, wiping Steve down where sticky come is cooling on his golden skin. Tossing them into the laundry basket, Bucky grabs a pair of soft pajama bottoms so he can walk Steve to the door. 

Steve is reluctant to leave and they swap sweet, sleepy, kisses in the doorway until finally he finds the resolve to pull back and wish Bucky sweet dreams. Bucky watches as Steve heads off, wondering how he got so lucky when all he did was mouth off in a bodega after a bad day. Whatever it was, he decides he’s not going to question it. It’s nice to have something actually go right in his life for once.

[mrsamaroevans]

Two Mended Hearts

Uptown Girl Series.

*This must be read after Two Broken Hearts for you to understand the context*

Fandom: Mayans M.C.

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Female Reader.

Words: 1,647.

Warnings: Emotional, lots of fluff and some swearing.

A/N: English is not my first language, so, sorry if there are grammar mistakes or if the redaction is poor. *Gif is not mine*

|| MY MASTERLIST ||

You looked around the room.

In the two years you dated Angel, you were only on his childhood bedroom a few times. His relationship with his father wasn’t the best and only and he visited him regularly only for you. You used to tell him that Felipe needed him. He lost his wife and one of his sons too quickly, and Angel lost his mother and brother. They both needed each other.

Felipe came to your apartment as soon as he knew you were moving out.

When your parents knew you were pregnant, they were furious. Your mother was about to set a doctor’s appointment, but when you told them you were keeping it, they decided to not support you. They didn’t want to know anything from you or your baby, and they canceled all your credit cards. Luckily, you were legally the only owner of your apartment and car, so you decided to put your place for rent to gain money for all the baby and you could need.

But Felipe didn’t let you rent a smaller apartment. He offered you his house and he wasn’t going to accept a “no” as an answer.

“Angel and I are no longer together, sir” you had said to him trying to reject his offer.

“I’m still the granddad of that child” he pointed to your belly “Your parents left you alone and even my son did the same, but I won’t”

Coco offered you his place too but analyzing the situation, you realized you would be better at Felipe’s house. Coco was always with the club and sometimes he had to go for days and you needed company. There were nights when you were scared. What if you had an accident? Or if you felt something was wrong and you needed to go to the hospital?

You’ve been living on Angel’s childhood house for about three weeks. Having Felipe’s company, it’s been great for both of you. You two had someone to talk to and the Reyes house was starting to feel like a home again.

You turned to the window when you heard a motorcycle. Of course, Angel was there to see his father, but he’ll know you’re there. Your car was parked outside the house.

“I knew this would happen” you heard Angel say a couple of minutes after he got into the house. You got closer to the bedroom door and tried to hear “I knew her parents wouldn’t be happy”

“You left her alone, though,” Felipe said and you felt your heart stopped for a second. Angel left you alone but he did it ‘cause you asked for it “Why didn’t you come back before?”

“I don’t know” Angel whispered so low that you barely heard it.

“You know that’s not an answer, son”

“I know”

There’s a moment when you couldn’t hear anything. You didn’t know if they were talking too low or if they weren’t talking at all. Then, you heard a sob.

“I’m not like you,” Angel said. His voice broke just like your heart “I’m not Ez, pa” he added and that’s when you knew he was crying.

You had never seen him crying. In the two anniversaries of his mother’s death you’ve been with him, he was mad with everyone, he just locked himself on his bedroom and when he goes out, it’s just to grab some beers. You are the only one he allows to be close to him on that day. Angel takes you to bed, use your chest as a pillow and you get your fingers through his hair. That seems to relax him.

But he never cried. Not even once.

“I love her. I swear I do but… I’m not good enough for her, we all know that…”

“But she loves you” Felipe interrupted him. At that point, your cheeks were wet for all the tears coming out of your eyes “She chose you, Angel”

“But… how can I take care of a baby? Just look at me!” Angel raised his voice “I’m a mess”

“What’s happening to you, is that you’re scared,” Felipe told him and you almost could hear him smile “And that’s normal… you think I wasn’t scared when your mother was pregnant with you? Your mother was ready but I… I was fucking scared. It turned out fine, your mother was helpful”

There was another silence, but this time it was shorter.

“You both need each other”

You half-smiled and placed your hand on your belly that had grown so much in the last weeks.

“I want to see her” Angel said and you wiped the tears out of your face.

“She went to your room half an hour ago, maybe she’s sleeping”

“I won’t wake her. I promise”

You got into the bed and closed your eyes. You couldn’t pretend to be asleep and you knew Angel will know you listened to their conversation. For him, it was really easy to read you and that was something you loved and hated at the same time.

The door of his bedroom opened but you kept your eyes shut when you felt Angel coming closer to the bed. At some point, you could hear the cracking of the wooden floor for his footsteps. You felt his hands on the mattress and knew he knelt beside the bed.

“You heard everything?” He asked you, so you opened your eyes and nodded. The light of the street coming from the window helped you to see a little bit more than his silhouette.

“Rich people can be gossip sometimes… well, most of the time” you said and Angel chuckled under his breath, a little smile on his lips.

“I’ve heard” he nodded and now you smiled.

For a few seconds, neither of you said anything. Angel touched your cheek softly and you closed your eyes enjoying the feeling of having him near again after almost four months.

“I’m sorry” he whispered leaning to you and placing his forehead against yours, his hand on the back of your head “I’m so sorry”

“Me too” you answered placing your hand on his bicep only to be sure that he’s in there with you “Me too, Angel”

You felt his lips on your forehead and smiled at the moment your baby moved in your belly. Some people say it’s a coincidence, some people say babies can feel when their dads are close, and at that moment you decided to believe the second group.

You moved back and patted the space of bed for Angel to lay down at your side. He did it immediately.

“I found a picture of an echography at Coco’s place,” he said looking at you and grabbing your hand to intertwine your fingers with his “That’s when I knew how foolish I was”

“Well… I asked you to leave, so it’s not your fault”

“I shouldn’t have left” Angel shrugged “I should have fought against your stubbornness”

“You’re here, that’s all that matters” you smiled again and took his hand to your belly under the covers. Angel was surprised when he felt the movement of it and his eyes started to fill with tears “It’s a girl”

“A girl?” he asked looking up at you, a few tears coming out of his eyes “I’m gonna be a fucking nightmare for his boyfriends, I swear—she moved!” he said looking down to your belly again “You felt it?”

“I did” you chuckled, “I think she didn’t like what you said”

“I don’t care” he shook his head and then laughed a bit.

“You’re starting to sound like a parent,” you said and laughed with him.

You fell silent again. Angel just caressed your belly as you concentrated on enjoying his touch. You felt happy, you felt calm, you felt safe. You felt at home. And it was all because Angel was finally at your side.

“I can’t promise you everything’s going to be fine” Angel begun so you looked up to him. He was still looking at your belly “I can’t promise you I’m going to be the best father ‘cause I know sometimes I’m not the best man… but, what I can promise you is that I’m gonna try. I’m gonna give the best of me to be the best dad to you, and the best man to your mom”

Your tears started to fall and you take your hand to his cheek so he looked at you.

“I’m fucking scared” he whispered and you just nodded.

“I’m scared too” you whispered back as your thumb caressed his cheek “But at least now we can be scared together…”

Angel chuckled and kissed your nose “We can”.

“There’s something I didn’t tell you the day I asked you to leave” you looked him in the eyes and he tilted his head being curious about what you’re gonna say “There’s no one out there better for me than you… no one, Angel… I want you to be damn sure about it… ‘cause I am”

He smiled at you and got closer to press his lips against yours. Nothing had changed in the way his kisses made you feel. This time he was being sweet and gentle, Angel was trying to make you feel how much he loves you and how sorry he was for leaving you alone these past four months.

“I love you” He whispered once you broke the kiss “So, so much”

“I love you too”

He kissed your nose, the smile never leaving his lips.

“You should sleep. It’s late and you need to rest” he left a peck in your lips after caressing your cheek.

“Are you gonna be here in the morning?”

“Yeah” He nodded and pulled you closer to him “Always” he kissed your cheek and you kissed him for the last time that night.

|| MY MASTERLIST ||

Hey, it’s me again!! Thanks for reading Two Broken Hearts, it makes me so happy to know that you liked it! If you have any idea for me to write about this couple, let me know!!!!

Thanks for reading again!!

[zankivich]

Neighbors: Shawn x Plus-Size Reader: Epilogue Part 1

a/n: we back bitches! I just couldn’t let my babies go yet. I really wanted to see what a future could look like for them. I really wanted to allow them the room to grow and evolve and be deeper, more complex beings. Please let me know what you think. Like honestly. It would mean the world to me. I just wanna talk about them. I missed them. Ok bye. 

Trigger Warnings: Weight issues. Trouble conceiving. Smut. 

*5 years later*

You always thought that when the other shoe would drop you’d be in a little bit better of a position to handle it. Like at all even. But sometimes that’s not what you get. Sometimes you’re in a med gown with your feet up in sternups while someone is swabbing and poking away at your cervix because your body doesn’t work right. Sometimes that’s all you get.

You vaguely hear the doctor explain to you about the length of time the test would take, how relaxing could help things, that you shouldn’t get stressed out quite yet. It all sort of feels like you’ve got cotton in your ears though. Like she’s talking but you can’t hear and you don’t want to hear you just want to go to bed.

It doesn’t help that they lead you out to the waiting room and he’s sitting there just as nervous and smiley as ever. Somehow he’s gotten so good at keeping your spirits high that you don’t even know how he manages to make you smile in that moment. Really all you wanted to do was cry. You go to fill out the exit paperwork and he’s right there rubbing circles into your back soothingly. You really wanna cry.

“I called your assistant to let her know you wouldn’t be coming in. Figured we could spend the day together, aye?” He hummed against your temple.

You nod silently. Thank fucking god he’s there to drive you home too, because the second you leave that building your eyes glaze over. You can barely see.

He lets you hold his hand, lets you pretend that those aren’t tears spilling silently down your cheeks as you stare out the window.

It’d been a hell of a five years. From the moment Shawn went completely and totally public with your relationship to the moment you moved into his apartment. To the rest of the tour finishing out sort of perfectly. To the vacation to Portugal. To the meeting of his grandmother and Allyiah’s graduation. To this random night in Madeira when you missed a New Years Eve party to make love with the windows open and he had laid beside you and put a ring on your finger with some sappy ass question of allowing him to love you for the rest of your lives. Not marry you, just love you. Wild. To the house you bought together with the stainless steel kitchen and the island you’d always wanted. And then of course there was that day over a year ago when he’d given you the puppy dog face after making you cum before work and asked if he could put a whole ass child inside of you, which had landed you here.

You walked into the house and immediately crawled out of your pants and back into bed. And he’s there almost as fast. His fingers trace out the words, “ i love you” onto your back and he throws his leg over you to smother you the way that you needed. It doesn’t matter though. None of it matters. And his love for you only hurts you more in this moment. Because you don’t deserve it. Can’t return it equally the way the way he deserved.

“It doesn’t matter to me.” He murmured softly. “You gotta know that, y/n.”

You snort softly, tears soaking into your pillow as he lies to make you feel better.

“It’s all you wanted. It’s the only thing you’ve ever asked me for.” You sniffled.

“I--I know. But I’d rather just have you, healthy and happy. That’s the only thing in the world I want, my love. Please don’t be sad.”

“I’m not healthy. I’m morbidly obese and now my uterus doesn’t work because of it.”

The tears come a little harder then and you try to take a breath but it just sort of chokes you. So he rolls you over and settles all of his weight on top of you. His runs his thumb along your cheeks and down over your chin, lips pressing to your forehead.

“That’s not what they said. They just said they need to run more tests.”

“She said my weight was definitely a contributing factor.” You argued gently. “It’s the whole reason my periods weren’t regular growing up. My mom had the same problem.”

“And she had four kids. All your doctor said was that it could make it harder, not impossible. So let’s let them run the tests. I never in a million years want you to blame yourself for this. Either we’ll make a baby naturally or we can adopt or do a surrogate or any of the other million ways people have kids now. This is not a thing to add stress, sweetheart. I hate seeing you sad like this.”

You swallowed  heavily and look hesitantly up at him from beneath your lashes.

“If you just would’ve married one of those skinny model types, you’d probably already have a kid by now though.”

His eyebrow furrows and you notice an emotion on his face that he rarely ever shows towards you. It’s anger. He slips off of you and pulls the covers back taking all of the warmth away with him

“No. No, we’re not doing this. I’m not even going to entertain a discussion where I shouldn’t be with woman I asked to spend the rest of her life with me because of something so insignificant. I’m not going to let you sit in this house all day and blame yourself for a body that I’m so incredibly in love with. Get up we’re going out.”

He tugs at your hands until you’re sitting up and then disappears into your closet.

“Where are we going?” You mumbled reaching for the tissues on the bedside table.

“We’re going to go spend the day together.” He huffed pulling out one of his favorite dresses of yours. “We are going to go out to lunch. We’re gonna go see a movie. We’re going to do whatever the hell we want. We’re just not going to sit here all day. Understand?”

He steps between your legs and holds your face in his hands and it really is the most soothing thing in the world. You don’t know how he does it. How he makes it all better. Or, how he puts up with you all the time. How even when he’s clearly irritated he’s looking at you like you’re his whole world. Because you actually, genuinely are.

“Look at me.” He said softly. “You’re everything to me. Everything. And that could never change, no matter what. So never look at me like it could, or should. I love you and you’re it. Tell me you understand that.”

“Understand. I love you.” You whispered.

He smiled down at you. “I love you too. More than anything in the world. Let’s go.”

It doesn’t fix it. Not at all. But it also doesn’t let you stew for the moment. It’s okay. For now.

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

His parents invite them over for dinner. It’s a known thing at this point that the struggle of getting pregnant is taking a toll on them. It definitely didn’t help that the press had gotten whiff of the Mendes’ trouble to conceive. She had only been harder on herself.. He’s afraid to touch her anymore if it means she’s only gonna think about whether her body will cooperate this time. He’s even more afraid to not touch her if it means she’s gonna spend a second thinking he’s not absolutely obsessed with her in every way. All he wants in the world is to make her happy, and he can’t help but think it’s his fault for ever bringing it up to begin with.

His dad pulls them both into a hug and his mum does the same. She’s in that jumpsuit he likes with the gold belt that makes him weak in the knees. There’s wine that’s been sitting in the freezer because they knew she was coming. He pours her a glass and grabs a beer for himself.

“Did I tell you how much I love this outfit on you?” He asked as he hands her her glass.

She smirks. “When I put it on in the house. And when we got in the car.”

His cheeks warm. “Sorry. I still mean it though. I think it’s my favorite. You’re beautiful.”

A giggle passes through her lips and she smiles at him over the rim of her glass.

“Look I know what tonight is about. And I know I’ve been...really difficult to be around lately.”

He shook his head. “Not at all. Not even remotely.”

“I don’t believe you. But, I just….I’m gonna try and do better. So, what do you say we have dinner. Maybe drink a little. Maybe we can have a night like the ones we used to have? Before all of this?”

“Sweetheart that sounds amazing. I’d love nothing more than that.”

He reaches in to kiss her and it’s like the first time. She still makes his fucking toes go numb. She makes his heart flutter and his stomach tighten. He’s so in love with her. He’s never not been in love with her. She digs her fingers in his hair and pulls just slightly and it still gets him going like he’s twenty-three again. And when his fingers find her thighs and she bites at his lip, it’s the closest he’s felt to her in months.

“Shit. I cannot pop a boner in my parent’s kitchen.” He groaned pulling away.

“Like physically incapable or like…?”

“Not funny. Let’s go eat dinner.”

Dinner starts out smooth. It’s catch up and y/n telling his mum how great the food is before they start exchanging recipes at the dinner table. And it’s better. She holds his hand. She tries to let go. He can tell she’s trying, but it’s different than it usually is. Y/n is never not trying. Lately she had been trying so hard that it was painful for him to watch. This time is different because this time it actually works. He can see that she’s not in her head as much and she’s not worrying about everything. It’s exactly what they need.

“So Shawn what’s going on music wise? You working on anything?”

It’s a loaded question. And of course his dad couldn’t have known. At first he put the album on hold to make a baby, and then he kept it on hold when y/n started having trouble so he could be there for her. Every now and again she could hear him argue with Andrew over the phone, or refuse another meeting with the label. It wasn’t that he wasn’t making music. He just didn’t want to do anything that might take him away from her. But somehow that makes her stressed too. Tonight instead of completely falling in on herself she tries to stay in the moment. She takes a bigger sip of her drink.

He slides his hand onto her knee and squeezes gently.

“I’m always working on something.” He chuckled. “Nothing concrete though. Just creating to create. Cause it makes me happy.”

He peers over at her in hopes that it’ll click for her. That he’s happy the way things are. That she doesn’t need to be anything other than what she already is for him.

She smiles and takes another gulp from her glass. But she doesn’t shy away so maybe it’s okay.

Until it isn’t. She finishes her glass before anyone else, and then goes to fix another when his parents start talking about aaliyah and what she’s up to.The final straw is when she gets up to try and help clear the table and she stumbles and drops a plate. His parents stare on with concern, and she’s giggling up a storm. She goes to try and pick up the pieces, but the last thing he needs is for her to cut herself on the glass, so he politely intrudes. She’s not hammered enough to get angry at him yet.

“Hey, honey? Leave it alright. I’ll clean it up. Why don’t you lie down on the couch for a little while until it’s time to go.”

She stares up at him eyes completely innocent in that way that wine does for her. It’s kind of adorable.

“Why? What did I do?”

He smiles. “Nothing. Nothing. You’re perfect. Just don’t want you to hurt yourself. We can leave in a little bit okay?”

“O--Okay.”

Her eyes already heavy before she sits on the couch. He hands her a blanket and knows that she’ll be out like a light. His parents hadn’t really brought them there for dinner anyway. He really was just there to get advice from the only people he knew could make it make sense.

“What’s bothering you kiddo?” His mum asks before he can even take a breath.

He sighed and let his shoulder drop.

“I just feel like I’ve messed everything up. And I can’t really see anyway out of it. She’s--She’s blaming herself for all of this, and I can’t figure out how to get her to stop.”

“Well what have the doctors said? Anything?” his dad asked.

He groaned. “Just that her weight is playing a role in her hormonal imbalance and it’s leading to issues with her fertility. But nothing about her being infertile. It’s just gonna be harder for her, I guess. And I don’t know how to make her believe that I would rather have a beautiful happy life than put her through anything like what these past few months have been for her.”

“That must be so hard for her.” His mum murmured laying her hand on his shoulder. “And hard for you too, sweetheart. Is she talking to someone about it by chance?”

“I try. I don’t think she wants to talk to me because she’s afraid of hurting me. She talks to some of her girlfriends I guess, but we don’t really have any friends with kids. And it’s not like she’s gonna call her mom up and talk to her about it.”

“That’s okay. You can only be there for her and offer as much support as she needs.When’s the last time you two just...went on vacation or got out of Toronto for a little while. Sometimes it’s the environment. Babies can be tricky things.” His mum shrugged.

“Tricky, aye? Was I tricky?”

His dad chuckled. “You sure were. You showed up without even bothering to tell us you were coming!”

“And look at all the good it’s caused.” He grinned.

“Nothing but good, sweetheart.” She smiled.

He peered back into the living room where his person was dead to the world, sleeping the sleep of the innocent. And his heart just felt full and safe.

“I’ll figure it out.” He promised himself. “I’ll figure it out.”

***

*y/n’s point of view*

You are in the middle of a meeting. A rather important meeting one might add. With like spreadsheets and projections and shit. You have a laser pointer for Christ’s sake! So when your assistant let’s your one and only dumbass enter into the conference room with nothing but a shit eating grin on his face and a suitcase, you are certainly at a loss for words. What in the hell?

“I--I...Shawn what are you doing here?” You blinked.

“Sorry ladies and gents I’ve kinda come to sweep you away. I already got the okay from your boss so….let’s go!”

“I’m sorry? I’m in the middle of a meeting babe.” You wave your arms around at the general meeting-ness of the room. “I can’t just leave.”

“Oh. Well that’s cool I guess. It’s just that I got a jet waiting for us, and although they technically can’t leave without us, I’d still like to be punctual. I’ll wait in your office.”

There’s a running joke about the jet. It’s not a joke at all actually. It’s extremely serious. He took you on a jet one time. When you had decided that the concept of marriage wasn’t nearly as important as just loving each other forever, you went on your “not-honeymoon”. On the flight to Italy, he ate you out in the bathroom right as take off happened. It was the best orgasm of your life. To this day every time he brought up that stupid ass jet, your thighs got tight and you got just a little wet. Bastard.

The rest of the presentation is a complete and total wash. Your dumbass is somewhere in your office waiting to whisk you away to God knows where and you’re sitting here talking about revenue? No thank you.

“Everyone have a lovely weekend. I will be back...whenever the hell he brings me back I suppose.” You sighed heading straight for the door.

He’s sitting at your desk with his legs propped up in those jeans that somehow had not changed size in five years with an ass that still made you wanna cry. Rude.

“What in the hell are you doing here?!”

He rolled his eyes. “Well it’s lovely to see you too dear. I’m doing great!”

“Don’t get snooty with me. You know that I’m happy you’re here, although you could have texted. Where are we going?”

“Coachella!” He exclaimed. “You and I are going to coachella. We are going to live our best lives in the most ridiculous, boogie ass, VIP style that you can imagine. We’re gonna take pictures in flower crowns. We’re gonna be surrounded by people half our age and it’s gonna be awesome.”

Coachella. It was something you’d talked about once upon a time ago. Back when what you had was still new and expanding and you were making plans for the future without any thought of what might come later. Something had always gotten in the way. The tour. An album. A movie project. You hadn’t talked about it in years.

“Coachella? What in the hell made you think of Coachella?”

He got out of your chair and wrapped his whole body around you in that way that made your body feel more firmly rooted to the ground. His arms were warm and firm and he nuzzled his nose into yours.

“I thought we might be missing what makes us, us lately? Let’s just go to Coachella. Let’s have a fun fucking time. You don’t need to worry about anything in the world. We can just be us again ya know?”

You frowned softly. “You don’t think we’ve been us lately?”

He sighed. “I think we’ve both been under a ton of pressure, obviously you more than me. I just wanna take you away for a little, baby. I just want you to have fun.”

“Look I know that I’ve been--”

“No. Don’t you understand? I don’t want you to apologize. I don’t need you to make excuses for me. I don’t want you to try and make anything better. I just want you to go to Coachella with me. I’ve already packed your suitcase. Please will you go with me?”

His eyes are set firm in that way that they often times get when something means a lot to him. He’s not giving in, and more than that you can tell it would hurt him if you tried to fight in. Your emotions are a little all over the place in regards to why he felt the need to do this. But honestly, what was the worst that could happen? You weren’t getting pregnant in Toronto. How the hell was California gonna make a difference?

“Okay, okay!  I’ll go.”

“Yes!”

He kisses you until your breathless and your toes curl and you can’t remember anything other than kissing him ever. Asshole.

Sure enough he takes you a jet where your friends are already waiting for you. It’s Brian, Stu, Bryan, Connor, your friends Cynthia and Taylor, and...Priyanka. Priyanka had been very annoyed to find out that the friend she made had neglected to tell her when she was solving all her relationship problems that they were Shawn Mendes related. You managed to stay friends from halfway across the world. She had even made a visit to Canada once, and you and Shawn had visited her in Barcelona again. You were closer than close, especially for friends with such physical distance between the two of you. Shawn knew that. Of course he knew that.

After you’ve had enough screaming and squealing over your friends, you decide to actually board the plane. Shawn is always there and waiting with a mimosa and quite expertly rolled, but still fat as all hell, blunt.

“I should’ve married you.” You mumbled reaching for both.

Everyone gets comfy in their seats, and you’re enough passes into your blunt that Stu is making grabby hands for not sharing when Shawn begins to nuzzle into your neck. He knew how sensitive you were there, especially high. Ugh.

“Babe,” He whispered kissing at your throat. “Need you to come with me.”

You whined softly and took another hit.

“Mmm where are we going?”

“I wanna do the thing. Please let me do the thing.”

Your eyes pop open at what he’s implying, and you’re not sure if it’s more intoxicating or sobering. Oh you’d let him do the thing alright.

You practically throw your blunt at Stu before tugging Shawn back towards the bathroom. Giggles bubble up from your throat as he presses you into the sink that’s nicer and bigger than the one you had in your first apartment. You hadn’t felt like this in a while. Playful. Care-free. In the moment.

It feels good. It feels like maybe everything he’d been asking you to do for months. You don’t know if it’s the weed or the mimsoa, or if instead it’s that sheepish fucking smile he gives you when he goes to take your pants off and nearly trips in the small space. In the end it doesn’t matter. You feel yourself falling. Into complacency. Into calmness. Into an ecstasy that has your legs locked around his head once again the moment the plane lifts off. Coachella here you come. Literally.

***

“Americans and your festivals.” Priyanka sighed nestling a flower crown over her headscarf.

You snorted softly. “Still not American, Pri.”

“Yea, yea, you’re the kinder version. I know. What are you wearing to this hotbox?”

Your day one outfit is a white cotton dress that falls off your shoulders and brings attention to your collarbones. There’s a big floppy hat to keep the sun away and sneakers because who the fuck has time for heels? You felt like a fat Florence Welch or a woodland fairy. It was kind of adorable. The fact that Shawn had somehow managed to pack your suitcase to your liking was a standard that you had never thought to set, but it surely came in hand.

The second you step out he’s waiting for you in a floral button up left undone over a tanktop and those damn jeans.He’s got one of those little pens with the cannabis oil in them, and you’ve never loved him more then when he smiles wide and goofy at you as you jump into his arms. Sometimes in your most insecure of moments, you would imagine that look going away, or even dimming in the slightest. But, it never seemed to happen. In over six years together he seemed to only love you more. Wild.

“You look so pretty. Are you excited?” He hummed fingers curving under the swell of your ass beneath your dress.

You bit your lip and pressed a little firmer against him. “I’m excited for something.”

“Sweetheart we should probably at least make it to Coachella before we run off to hook up somewhere.”

You pouted, bottom lip jutting out. “Well who’s idea is that?”

“Weed really does make you horny, aye?” He chuckled. “I promise to keep you more than satisfied this weekend.”

“Yea?”

You licked your lips and made yourself busy with pressing kisses along his jaw and neck.

“You’re gonna be trouble this weekend.”

“You have no idea.”

Coachella is...hot. Mostly. You get the feeling that you’re not exactly experiencing it like a normal person, the second Shawn leads you by your hand past a roped gate. It reminds you of the time you snuck into the VIP section in college, except for now there’s not sneaking in. Your person just leads you right through the entrance. There are big tents set up with misting fans and bars and people in outfits that don’t look comfortable. You’re a pretty big group, but it matches the vast amount of entourages  walking around. You think you spot Kime Kardashian in a diamond encrusted tank top, but then you spot hot dogs and those are more important.

In reality there are only five things you needed to experience at Coachella. Weed. Alcohol. Food. Sex. and most importantly Lizzo.

“So is this little wristband of yours gonna get me to the front?” You asked waving your wrist in Shawn’s face.

You were nursing a long island in cup that looked more like a bucket and a hot dog in the other. Your priorities were perfectly in order.

“Not quite. My face should do it. I made a call ahead of time. Lizzo knows we’ll be in the crowd.”

You nearly choked. “Don’t tell me that. I don’t need to know that. I just want to shake my ass in peace, Shawn.”

“And shake it you will, my love. Preferably on me, but I’m open to negotiating.”

You were so crossed at that point your soul felt cross-eyed.

“No negotiating needed. You wanna bend me over, you just say the word Mr. Mendes.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “You know I think that could definitely get me going. We should explore that at some point. Not in public. But we should explore it.”

“Boo. You’re so boring.��� You snorted.

You go see one of the smaller acts where the crowd wasn’t large and no celebrities were there. Connor and Brian are on molly and jump into a mosh pit. Bryan and Stu start grinding to a techno beat immediately. Priyanka and the girls are jumping up and down in pleasure. It’s fun. It’s funner than maybe anything you’d ever done in your whole life. There’s something so freeing about being surrounded by people who are sweaty and drunk and just want to hear and feel the music. It’s incredible in every way. And you can’t get over the fact that he did it for you. That he plucked you out of your own head, out of everything that had been going on the past months for this. It spoke to the idea that maybe your happiness really was all that mattered to him. That as long as it was you and it was him, everything else would work itself out. You just had to get the two of you down. The rest would follow.

You’re sitting on a blanket between his too long legs. You flopped your hat on top of his head and stole the pen from him to take another hit. From where you’re lying he looks like the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. You fall a little deeper in love.

“Hi.” You murmured as he nodded his head to the music.

He smiled at you. “Hi. You feeling okay?”

“You’re so pretty.” You say instead. “The prettiest fucker I ever saw.”

“How high are you right now?” He asked caressing your jaw.

You shook your head softly and pouted.

“No. You’re pretty, honest! I’m so in love with you.”

“I’m in love with you, too. The love of my life, you are woman.”

“I wanna give you a baby so bad.” You sighed letting your head fall against his collarbones. “I never even thought I wanted to be a mom, ya know? Thought I’d live so happy on my own. But we’d be really fucking good at it.”

His arms were wrapped around you already and he intertwined his fingers against your stomach from behind

“We will be, baby.” He promised. “You can teach our baby to be a total bad ass, how to be strong and fearless and smart. And I’ll teach them out to play music, how to be stubborn. We can both teach them out to be stubborn. And we’ll love them more than anything. It will be perfect.”

“You think?” You grinned tilting your head up to look at him.

He peered down at you with your big ass hat on his head and suddenly the only thing that you could do was giggle your ass off. Definitely still high.

“Are you laughing at me?!”

You shook your head gasping for air. “No! No I’m not I just---that fucking hat, Shawn!”

This sends both of you into fits of laughter. Moment absolutely ruined.

***

“Hey…Everyone is heading to one of the house parties before we come back for Lizzo’s set.” Shawn murmured.

You were dehydrated and still drunk. Getting out of the sun sounded lovely.

“Okay.”

He frowned and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Yea. I was thinking you and I might head back to the house instead for a little while. You know...to relax.”

“Oh. Oh! Yes. Let’s do that.”

“Yea? I thought we could maybe try something, ya know new? Like the other stuff?”

Your eyes widened. “What the hell did you have in mind?”

The past five years had seen many an explorations in the bedroom for the two of you. You dead ass Louis and Clark’d that shit. But like without the slavery and the general white supremacy. Once you discovered you liked having your ass slapped, you found out that there were some other things you liked. You liked when he was a little rough with you, liked being pressed up against something and taken for all you were worth. You liked being restrained, not so much with actual restraints which had taken a handcuff situation, panic attack, and an accidental black eye that meant Shawn couldn’t leave the house for a week, to find out. No need to go back there. Shawn liked praise. Endless amounts of praise. Good news was you liked praising, and he liked punishing. What a life.

Your friends are not even remotely convinced when you tell them you’re gonna stop at the house for a nap. Bryan offers to ride back with you both to grab his fanny pack and Stu very loudly explains to him that you’re going back to fuck. He’s not wrong though. So you skip over towards your car happily with your person because you were too secure in your relationship to get skittish about sex anymore. You were a sexual creature and you weren’t afraid to hide it dammit!

“God I have wanted to touch you all day.” Shawn groaned. Pushing you against the first wall he can find the second the door is closed.

You giggled. “That’s what I’ve been saying! You wouldn’t listen though.”

“You wanted to have sex in a very public VIP tent.” He snorted. “I want you all to myself.”

“Well you got me. Come take care of me, aye?”

“Of course. Anything for you. Come here.”

Did you have a bedroom? Yes. Were you staying in a mansion that probably cost a shit ton? Accurate. But you were a simple girl, with simple needs. And sometimes? Sometimes you just wanted to be fucked on a very sturdy, very expensive, mahogany desk instead.

You reached for the belt buckle on his black jeans already trying to pull him closer than close, already wanting his body on yours.

“Here?” He asked a little surprised but still pressing kisses to your throat.

You moaned. “Now. Need it right now.”

“Fuck.”

You both pull apart from each other just long enough for you to rid yourself of your underwear and Shawn to get his jeans and briefs far enough down his thighs for movement. It’s maybe the most needy that either of you have ever been. You and Shawn thrived in foreplay. Sometimes spent whole hours in foreplay wihtout ever even getting to the sex part. When he shoves his way between your thighs, holding his tanktop up with his hand to spit on his dick as he made his way within you, something animalistic occurs. Your body practically convulses around him. It’s dirty and hot and fast and you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

“Holy fuck you’re so tight.” He groaned against your shoulder. “God, baby.”

“Harder! Just want it harder. Baby please.”

He’s got your thigh propped up on this desk and it’s just the perfect height to have him fucking into you with the stroke from the gods. Crossed y/n didn’t need much, she just kind of wanted to get railed in broad day light. What? Like it’s hard?

He finds a way to get your leg over his shoulder and you back hits the wall and he pushes so deep inside of you, you see stars. He’s rocking himself against that spot inside of you that only he could touch like that. Your back arched and you squeezed your eyes shut in complete and utter ecstasy.

“What’s the thing?!” You gasped fingers digging into his shoulders.

“Huh?!”

“The thing! What’s the thing you wanted to do I’m gonna fucking cum soon.” You whined.

“I read an article!” He panted hips still moving. “That choking makes the orgasm like more heightened. Don’t wanna hurt you. Just wanna make you feel good. Always.”

“That’s so hot. Now--do it now!”

“Just...hit me if it starts to hurt, okay?”

His fingers, long and roughly calloused, gripped experimentally at your throat. At first he’s just touching the skin, just familiarizing himself with what it could feel like. Meanwhile his hips are still slapping against the back of your thighs, the desk beginning to squeak and rattle on its feet. His grip tightens slightly and you start to feel the restriction. His other hand hand digs deep into the wood behind your back for leverage, and he takes you somewhere entirely new.

“Oh my god. I can feel your body fighting for it.” He grunted against your lips. “Shit!”

Your eyes roll entirely backwards and your legs come together in some weak attempt at a defense as your body just kind of explodes on his dick. Is it squirting? Is it just another orgasm? Is he ripping you apart from the inside? Who knows? Not you, that’s for damn sure. The last thing you’re even fully conscious for is your fingers grabbing at his waist to pull him desperately against you. Maybe he cums. Again. You’re not sure. By the time you come too, the entire world is lopsided, and you still can’t breathe.

“We’re gonna have to pay for that.” Shawn wheezed against your neck.

“Mmmm...what?”

“The desk, baby. The desk.”

You peer down at something that isn’t your person for the first time notice that the world had not gone lopsided. Instead some of the legs on the desk had just completely given up at being legs. Oh well.

“That’s hot.”

He chuckled. “Yea? Broken furniture get you going?”

“Mhm. You wanna try and break the bed too?”

“I just came in you not twenty seconds ago.” Shawn sighed running his thumb along your cheek. “But, you’re so fucking sexy. Yes. Yes let’s go.”

“Think you can still lift me?”  

He doesn’t dignify that with a response. Instead just grabs you up and stumbles his way towards your room. Thank god for gyms and thank god for Coachella. What a hell of a woman.

****

September in Toronto was your favorite time of the year. The temperature dropped a little bit, all of the kids were back in school, just as the city was becoming it’s most beautiful. You thrived in September. And when you were at your happiest it tended to have really good effects on Shawn. He fed off whatever energy you put off, and he loved seeing you happy more than anything in the world. So when some asshole named Andrew decides that he’s going to take the love of your life away from you in PRIME apple picking season, excuse you for feeling like someone was trying to rain on your parade.

“Baby it is a three day trip. We can go apple picking the second I get off the plane.” Shawn assured you as you watched glumly while he packed his life away from you.

“It won’t be the same. The temperature on Saturday was going to be perfect. They have the adult hayrides with the spiked cider and everything.” You mumbled.

He dropped one of his shirts and came to crawl into bed with you, warm hands coming to cradle your face like always.

“And it will be just as perfect when I get back. Because I’ll be with you. It’s just a quick trip to New York to meet with the label. I’ll be back before you know it.”

You fist your fingers in his sweatshirt in a feeble attempt to keep him there with you.

“That’s not true. I always know it when you’re gone. Always.”

He sighed softly. “I know. It gets a little harder every year to be away from you too. But three days, and then I’m yours. We can pick apples and make our own cider and bake your famous apple crisp and watch movies. You can not go into work. It’ll be perfect, aye?”

You frown but he kisses at your cheeks and your lips until you smile for him. It’s so annoying.

“Besides by the time I get back you’ll be in your ovulating window. I’ll be back just in time.”

You had drastically shifted your approach post Coachella. Shawn stopped making appointments with the gynecologists and the fertility specialists. You’d had a really vulnerable and honest conversation that hurting yourselves mentally and emotionally wasn’t going to be the way you became parents. So the plan became to just take the pressure out of it. You still had sex during your ovulation period every month, amongst a lot of non-ovulation sex as well, and if after a year you got nothing than it would be time to look into alternative options.

You scrunch your face up as he presses more kisses against your neck.

“You track my ovulation?” You asked.

“Yes. It’s incredibly easy on this little app I have. Now don’t be sad anymore, please?”

Your fingers scratch at his scalp and he practically purs still.

“Fine.”

“I love you, don’t ‘fine’ me.”

“I love you too.”

Shawn heads off to the airport leaving you home in a big ass house by your lonesome. You get the fireplace going and set about making yourself something for dinner. Nothing feels off at all. It’s just a normal day. You have to decide whether to do stir fry or tacos, but that’s about it. You set up the rice cooker before hopping into the shower for a much needed jam session with one of your favorite playlists. You figure a deep conditioning might do you some good since your person isn’t even around to play with your hair tonight.

You’re at the island chopping onions when your eyes trail up to the calendar on the fridge. It held random dates, usually when Shawn had business to attend to, so that you weren’t in the dark. You peered at the calendar and just noticed your ovulation dates and your period listed in pink marker. Shawn had taken to putting them up there for his own memory. And mostly because you were god awful with dates, which in hindsight was very telling.

You peered back down at the cutting board as you diced your onion before a little bell went off in your tummy. Your eyes moved back up to the board as your hand kept moving on the cutting board. There wasn’t time to question anything as you sliced your finger like an amateur.

“Shit.” You hissed as your finger pooled with a little droplet of blood.

You headed straight for the sink, letting the water turn red for a few seconds as you cleaned your wound. It was the visual of the blood that convinced you to count backwards. Again you were shit at time so you had to do it twice. But sure e-fucking-nough you might just be the dumbest fucker alive.

You ran straight for your phone dialing up the only number you could think to call in times of crisis, food and everything completely forgotten.

“Oh thank God you called.” Stu whimpered. “The in-laws are here and if I have to listen to Betty tell me one more time that my fucking crudite  is wrong I’m gonna fix her a crudi-taint and call it a day.”

“This is an emergency, bitch. Forget the crudite!”

*Forty-five minutes later*

“I got one of every color and kind! A gallon of apple juice and also a snickers bar because I am stressed and I don’t even have a uterus!”

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

He stopped at some really bougie ass boutique and bought them matching scarves on his way home. He thought it might be a good “honey I’m home, please don’t hate me” gift. The meeting with Andrew had been to discuss some soft releases the label was looking to him to put out. He had some friends who needed features and wanted him to get on them. It would be a build up to his first album in three years. Which meant he kind of needed to make an album. That was a problem for another day though. For now he just wanted to take his person apple picking.

“Babe?!” He called dropping his keys into the bowl and tugging his bag behind him. “I’m ready to pick apples!”

She’s not in the living room. Sometimes when he had to go away she would take to the couch instead of their bedroom in protest, but the blanket on the back of the couch is still folded. The dining room is immaculately clean, which throws him slightly for a loop. Then in the kitchen he comes across a massacre of treats. She’d really gone to town. There was a cake, brownies, and fudge at first glance. He peered into the freezer to see that she’d somehow found the time to make three different flavored ice-creams from scratch. Wild. He wasn’t concerned because she always did stress baking when he was away, even if this time was quite...intense.

“Honey we’re gonna have to start donating your stress baking! It’s gonna send us both to an early grave.”

He reached for a piece of fudge anyway and took to the stairs when his very lovely human neglected to meet him downstairs.

He finds her in their bathroom cleaning the tub. With a toothbrush.

“Y/n? What’s going on?”

Her head popped up, her eyes widening.

“You’re home.”

He nodded frowning at her. “I”m home. Come here.”

He reached for her hands, helping her off the floor. His arms snuck under her big t-shirt tracing at the soft skin of her hips. She was tense enough to burst, but she seemed to lean into his touch.

“What’s up? What’s going on with you?” He asked softly.

“Why would you think something’s going on? Nothing’s going on.” She lied.

“Since when do you clean the bathtub with a toothbrush? Or at all for that matter. I always clean the bathtub.”

“I don’t know. I just figured I’d get some stuff around the house done. No big deal.”

“Okay. And the bakery pop up shop you started in our kitchen?” He chuckled squeezing her tight. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? You know you can always talk to me.”

She sighed, her arms coming to wrap around him as well.

“I’m okay, honest. Guess I just got a little anxious with you being away is all. I’m good now. I promise.”

He nuzzled their noses together and kissed her for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Okay. Maybe some apple picking would help? I hear they have adult hayrides with spiked apple cider.”

She smiled for him finally. “Yea. That would help.”

His favorite y/n was always y/n in the fall. Her soft, cozy sweaters, boots, and those leggings that mapped her thighs out perfectly. She was so beautiful it hurt. When he wraps her new scarf around her neck for her and she shimmies her shoulders a little, his heart soares. God he loved her. He loved date nights, he loved spending time with his best friend, and he loved showing her off to the world. It was his favorite thing in the world to do.

She loves apple picking. And so they drive out there armed with baskets and bags galore. Without fail every year by the third or fourth week, she will be pissed off at  how many apples he “let her buy”, as if he has a say in anything that is taking place. But, in the moment it’s the cutest shit ever. And he takes pictures of her leaning up into the trees to get the best choice. They feed each other apples and kiss under one of the trees. It’s sort of perfect.

He saw a family packing up their car as the sun began to set and the air got colder. He watched a mom lift her son up in the air and kiss and hold him close. It caused a painful squeeze in his chest, and he was thankful y/n wasn’t around to see them. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about family trips to the orchard. He had. He thought about chasing tiny legs through rows of trees, of stopping grabby fingers from digging gross apples out of the dirt. He knew y/n and him had had quite the different upbringings, but this was what he’d always wanted. But, he meant it wholeheartedly when he said he’d rather have her than anything else. He believed wholeheartedly that she was meant for him and he for her, that their energies had probably started as one once upon a time, and that he wasn't meant to be without her. Whatever his life was meant to look like, it had to revolve completely and totally around her. There was just a tiny, selfish part of him that would like to be able to have them both.

When the backseat is overloaded with apples, they walk hand in hand to the store they have set up. The sun sinks low in the sky and there’s a little folksy band playing by an open campfire. There are twinkly lights and tables set up all around. It’s kind of romantic as all hell. She smiles at him like she always has, like somehow he’s worth as much to her as she is to him. He’s so fucking in love with her, it’s insane.

“Do you want me to get us some of those hard ciders before the hayride?” He asked squeezing her fingers.

She shook her head. “Actually can I try one of the cider slushies instead? Wanna switch it up.”

“Of course. I’ll be right back.”

They climb into the hayride just like all the other couples. Toronto is home and it really feels like home because no one shoves a camera in his face when he’s trying to cuddle with his person. And that feels really important to him. Her privacy, her happiness. It’s all he cares for.

“You happy?” He asked squeezing his arm around her.

She nodded and tucked her face into his neck. “So happy. Love you, ya know.”

“I love you too. So much.You’re the light of life.”

“Stop it.” She giggled.

“No. Never. You’re everything.”

“Yea...You are too.”

They order chinese food on the way home. She takes a shower with him and lets him run body wash over the parts of her that he cherishes the most. They climb into bed together, soft and warm and sated. He finds himself hopeful that every day will be this way, that every night could find him so lucky.

“Shawn?” She whispered, her fingers tangling in his necklace.

“Yes, my love?”

“I gotta tell you something...Or I guess maybe show you something.”

Her fingers trembled against his throat, and he knew they were finally getting to what must have caused her to bake everything they had in their home.

“Okay.” He murmured calmly. “You can always share anything with me. You know that, right?”

“Yes.” She smiled. “Yes, I know.”

She leaned up out of bed and reached over to the nightstand on her side. She hid it behind her back and turned to him, the suspense slowly driving him insane.

“Baby, what is it?”

There are moments in life that you never forget. Moments that, on your deathbed you could recount with startling clarity, right down to the way the air felt. This was that moment for him. He remembered that her night shirt was black and white stripes. She was wearing black underwear that night with a lacy back. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, and she smelled like apples and cinnamon and lavender and smoke. Because even after a shower the campfire smell would stick around for days. Her eyes had a wicked glint to them. A happiness so vast and so deep that he wanted to cry just looking at her. And then she holds it out for him and it’s like his world explodes, or expands infinitely, because there it fucking is. Right there.

“But--what? Is….is it?...is it?” He mumbled like an idiot his heart picking up speed in his chest.

The glint turns to actual tears in her eyes and she nods softly at him.

“I took fifteen of them. And the doctor fit me in last minute to make sure. I’m a little over a month along.” She tells him.

“I’m--I’m gonna be a dad?” He whispered, his throat closing up. “You’re gonna be a mum?”

“I hate to burst your harry potter bubble, but our little bean is most certainly going to call me mom.” She giggled. “It’s real. I promise. I’m pregnant.”

And he just fucking falls apart. It’s the hardest he’s cried since he broke his ankle at age thirteen. And he has to keep blinking through every tear because he needs to see her, needs to never take his eyes off her again, because she’s everything. She’s giving him the greatest gift in the world. As if giving herself to him had not been too much, had not been more than he could ever deserve. She was going to create life with him, for him. She was going to be the mother to his baby.

He’s never hugged anyone in his life as hard as he hugs her then. Like tackles her down to the bed and squeezes the hell out of her. She laughs and they cry and they hug and they kiss. It’s the greatest happiest he’s ever known.

“ I love you so much.” He gasped. “We made a baby. We’re gonna have a baby.”

She nodded running her fingers through his head. “We’re gonna have a baby.”

There’s more laughter. There are a hell of a lot more tears. And he completely pulls her body into his own and refuses to let her go. Not that she’s asking. It’s his baby after all. His babies. Holy shit.

“There’s something I gotta do.” He whispered in her ear.

“Yea? What’s that?”

He crawled gently down her body nestling himself between her legs. The second he reaches for her t-shirt she giggles and squirms.

“Are you really gonna eat me out to celebrate me being pregnant?”

He stared up at her, mortified from between her legs.

“No! Oh my god, y/n. Our child can hear you! I simply came down here to kiss your belly and talk to my baby in there. Get your head out of the gutter.”

She rolled her eyes. “The baby doesn’t have ears yet jackass, but excuse me.”

“Don’t listen to her baby.” He grumbled rubbing his thumb into soothing circles along her belly button. “Daddy is gonna sing to you all the time. I’m gonna take such good care of you and mommy forever okay?”

She lets him talk to her belly for the rest of the night. It’s the most incredible thing he could ever ask for.

Permanent taglist 

@simpledomain @liliane106 @thecurlsofgod @kamahriii @sinplisticshawn @lifeoftheparty74 @xeuphorically-moonstruck @euphoric05 @daijanicole @bruhh-whateven @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @decewill @goldiean @bitchacho25 @bruhh-whateven @shawnase @kamahriii @sinplisticshawn @simpledomain 

[adventuresloane]

"i know it hurts, i'm sorry" or "look at me- you're safe." with taako and lup??? theyre v e r y good siblings and thats a relationship that doesnt get explored as often in fandom as it should

((F*ck it I know it's late but I wanna post this now.))

"I know it hurts," Lup says almost at the same moment he lets out another pained hiss. "I'm sorry." Both of his cheeks are scraped, and the disinfectant turns the constant dull burn into a sharper sting. This wouldn't be the first time his face has gotten scraped up like this. It isn't even the first time he's gotten his face scraped up after being dragged around by the hair by someone who'd caught him red-handed in a con. He knows it's got to feel worse before it feels better. That doesn't stop the tears from rolling down his face, mixing with the gritty dirt and the blood and the stinging stuff.

She's saying something else now. "Sorry," she whispers with every other dab of the cloth. "Sorry."

"I know you're hungry," Taako murmurs as she feels the familiar scrape inside her belly. The hurt is low and deep, like shame. Lately, she's been turning tail on more fights than she would have liked--or, rather, Taako's been dragging her out of every potential scrap, even when she's primed to charge in screaming. It's terrible. It's humiliating, to receive parting blows to her back as they run away, and she sulks at Taako for it every time. But she knows he's right even in those moments. She couldn't very well fight when sometimes just standing up made her vision go dark.

He's sitting with his back to the fire, hunched over and turned away from her. She knows what he's doing, though, because it's the same thing he's been trying to work on for weeks. It makes her feel useless just lying there, but all the same, each one of her exhausted limbs anchors her to the ground. He's brandishing a scavenged wand that he threw together from a broken yew branch and a tiger's-eye bead that had "fallen" (been knocked) from a jeweler's stand. If he can just get the gesture right, the precise flick of his fingers, he could use transmutation magic to turn the bark in front of him to a meal for them both. She knew he could do it. She hoped.

In the past, he's succeeded some. The food he crafts from magic fills her. That's all it has to do at this point. But that doesn't stop him from doing what he can to make it taste less like cotton in her mouth. Wild onions and berries that they'd found in sparse patches, not nearly enough to make a meal but suitable for flavoring. Grasses and herbs from the roadside. A single acorn. He tries it all. They both do whenever they're able, stirring ingredients in shoulder-to-shoulder. They dip small fingers into pots together, making faces at each other in unison when the experiment ends up tasting like shit, relishing quietly when it doesn't.

"I know when you're cold, Taako," she says with not a little exasperation. For probably the eighteenth time that night, she's just asked him whether he needs to share the blanket with her, and he's promptly denied it.

"What part of 'Taako's good out here' didn't you get?" he grumbles. She doesn't have to be so insistent. He hasn't even been shivering--he learned long ago how to stop himself from doing it. It pisses him off, sometimes, how she just assumes shit about how he's feeling all the time. It pisses him off more that she's usually right.

"Yeah, sure." She pulls the thin wool blanket over to where he lies on the floor of the abandoned house that they've found for the night. Then she lies down and pulls it over the both of them before wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing up against him. The wool cloth is barely enough to fully wrap around one of them. The cold starts to lose its teeth, though, pulling away from his chilled skin.

Only the warmth isn't coming from the blanket. It's too immediate. It soaks into him and settles somewhere deep inside, like it's making a home, like it's always belonged there. It's centered on his belly, where her hands rest. He looks under the blanket, and it's only because of the darkness underneath that he can see her fingers, just faintly, glowing. "Lup?"

"Something new I'm working on," she says quietly against his back, and even turned away from her, he can hear the smile in her voice.

"Dope," he whispers back. On the other hand, it isn't always bad, her assumptions.

"Okay, I know you're tired, but listen, I finally figured it out." The slap of books on the table echoes through the floor of the library, earning him several shushes that he ignores.

"You'd better have," she groans, forehead still pressed to wood grain. "If I spend another hour staring at this equation, I'm going to meld with this chair." It feels ungrateful even saying that. The IPRE Academy's dorm is both the most permanent and the most comfortable of homes they've had in years, and even if they've taken to doctoring up the bland cafeteria food with magic, they wouldn't trade their meal plan. The least she can do is put more effort into keeping the scholarship they've earned.

"Don't worry, I'll walk you through it, since as we're all aware by now I'm a goddamn genius. Hey, by the way, you look like death."

"Thanks for that," she mutters.

"You should skip class tomorrow. I'll tell the professor you were puking or something."

She sighs and finally lifts her head. "No, I should go, I'll just..." She trails off when she sees the cardboard Fantasy Starbucks cup that had been silently placed beside her. It smells of caramel and just the right amount of whip. She doesn't have to take the lid off to know that he got her order right.

"Koko...thanks."

"What?" he says, though she knows he heard her. "Here, let me show you how to solve this."

I know you want it, is what Lup says with the look she gives him. Her brows are arched and there's a smirk on her face and that's all the prompting he needs. He pulls the furry, five-colored, gloriously hideous jacket off the store rack and adds it to the heap he carries in both his arms. It's not like they'll have much time to shop for the two months that they'll be in space. Might as well get it in now.

Their coworkers at the IPRE will poke fun at both of them later for blowing their money on ugly crap. Let them. The only thing that matters is that the pair of them get it. Lup never asks why he needs a third pair of holographic pants. The whole point is that he doesn't need them at all, the same way she doesn't need a sequin dress she'll likely never wear--it's novelty, still, buying what they don't absolutely need. They'll surround themselves with absolute unnecessaries, to assure themselves that they're really and truly here, that they've made it to this place.

Lup also doesn't ask why he mends the same holes in shirts four times in a row, when he has so many others and it would be far less of an effort to just throw the old ones out. She doesn't ask why he saves everything, just like he doesn't have to ask why she dives for change she sees on the sidewalk. Nothing needs to be said.

I know you're out there, he thinks as he and Barry search yet another dripping cave. She's not here. He knows that they have to check anyway, leave no stone unturned and all that, but his gut tells him that it's yet another waste of time, that they'll hit the stone wall before long and find nothing. He would know if she were near, the same way he knows that she's not gone forever, yet. He thinks he would know right away if she were. He would cease to exist in his current form as soon as she left this world.

I know you're out there, she does not so much think as feel, because complete and coherent thought has not yet returned to her in this black place. She's a planet at the time of its birth, still formless and shifting unshaped in a lightless and soundless void. She doesn't know much yet--so little she knows, so little has come back to her--but she knows that she isn't who she was. She can't be, out of context. She can't be who she's supposed to be when she's not part of a system, when she's alone. The rest of her is somewhere among the stars that she can no longer see.

These people just don't get him. This old dwarf and beefy human he's traveling with, they ask him why he's so hellbent on stealing and raiding all the corpses for goods, why he needs to sleep near the fireplace even though the Bureau's rooms are well heated. He doesn't like questions, especially when they're about himself. He can't answer them. Why should he have to answer them? He doesn't have to explain himself. He's Taako, From TV. He's got needs.

He shouldn't get mad at them. It's not like he knows them either, or cares to. It's wrong, maybe, to expect that they should anticipate his needs, or that anyone should. But he feels like someone should. Just once, he thinks, he shouldn't have to ask before someone knows what he needs.

I know you, comes a voice from some dark place. Taako, I know who you are.

[insane-control-room]

Tall, Dark, Handsome and Mysterious

Ao3 Link Here

warning: period typical racism mentioned

Dot loves a good mystery, and Mr. Drew is as good as any, if not better. 

It was to be expected that someone or another would fall for the lanky chicano.

After all, he was mysterious and kindly, with a heart of gold and rainbows. The age old adage, tall, dark, and handsome all applied to him. Men and women and all those in between would turn their heads to get an extra glimpse at him whenever possible, a rarity disguised by a magical mask.

And it is to be expected that with having teenagers under his employ that they too may fall victim to his charms.

Now, though it was apparent that the expected person that would become infatuated with the good Mr. Drew would be closer to him, more able to witness and take in his virtues. Truthfully the one who held his heart was the upcoming Doctor Stein, yet it was clear that Johan had much love to share with the world. And of course, not everyone was aware of Joey’s relationship with Henry. Not that they were secretive of it, but rather because they were not going to rub it into others faces.

Of course, not always the expectation comes into being. Especially with the heady youth, of which Johan knew very clearly. After all he fell for Henry when he was quite young, but they spent over thirty years to properly get together. He was not about to date a child, no matter if they were willing, due to being a sensible and proper being. Additionally, Joey absolutely was one of the most oblivious men to walk on God’s good earth, loving others without expecting to be loved back.

So when one worker tore her shirt, and Joey being his chivalrous self covered her with his cloak, then ran to fetch from Susie a proper fitting shirt. I am condensing the situation.

Unfortunately, she did not simply tear her shirt. She tore it as she fell down the stairs, and completely, so that when she fell into Joey’s arms it had been rather, er, too close for comfort. But Joey acted quick and without embarrassing the girl, though her secret slipped from her grasp the same way she fell into Joey’s.

It is a bit of a tale.

Johan sighed as he flicked through papers. Papers, papers, and more papers. Documents for the various segments of the studio; bills for Grant, sheet music for Sammy and Jack, storyboards for Henry, blueprints for Bertrum, and concepts for the writers. His eyes felt heavy as he finished skimming all the pages, and set himself to dropping them off. Most workers protested Johan doing the job, saying that they could do it themselves, that he should not trouble himself, that he had enough medical problems to deal with as is, but he did it anyway. It was good to meet up with the team, anyways.

Though, if he was being honest, he would have rather done all the work himself, like in the not so good old days. Sure, it was rough, but it kept him busy and distracted. Henry always said he worked himself too hard, but he found working thrilling, almost relaxing. He was one of the only people who could “work hard, work happy” with total and complete honesty. The others tried their best to, but constant frustration held that back. Johan dove deep into his work to distract himself and release the tension in his body and mind.

Breathing in, breathing out, pen on paper, swapping through colors to define what he meant on each paper. He nearly dozed off on the elevator because he had stayed up all night working on the documents.

He managed to drop everything off to their designated areas, and then found he still had the story ideas to give to the lovely darlings that worked in writing. He yawned, and pushed the button on the elevator, and within a few minutes, he was already with and talking to said workers. They followed his only slightly stuttered words with fascination, clinging to each syllable like it was a dew drop of pure gold. He nearly blushed with each sound of approval, but only smiled and thanked them, informing them that without their work, the ideas would never find a way onto paper.

One of the writers sat, mesmerized. There was something so mysterious about Mr. Drew, she thought to herself. And goodness, she loved a good mystery, it was what got her into writing in the first place. She watched the way he spoke and acted with the sharp eyes of a hawk, and then when he got up to leave, she got up as well, determined to follow him and be the one to shatter the delightful aura of riddles and strangeness surrounding him, certain that if he would fall in love with anyone particularly, it would be her.

“Mr. Drew!” Dot called after him, her short plump legs struggling to keep up with his long slim ones. Still, he stopped, and turned to allow her to catch up to him. Such a gentleman, she smiled inwardly. When she caught up, she breathlessly told him; “I had a few questions to ask you.”

“Yes, ma’am?” Joey always spoke with a sonorous, soft tone - that is, when he was not recording or filling the people who worked for him with robust energy and visions of grandeur and majesty. Dot held back a sigh. “Is it possible to w-walk and talk? I’m very busy, as you know.”

“Yes, yes sir,” she smiled, and walked as fast as her legs would allow. “Well, you see, I’ve had an idea for an episode….”

So immersed was she in her talking and watching for any hint of a response to come across Johan’s handsome yet masked face, she hardly noticed when they had reached the stairs, and her foot came to rest on empty air, she pitching forward.

She nearly shrieked, but she felt herself caught with a strange tearing sound.

“Miss Dot! Oh, I’m d-dreadfully sorry, are you alright?” Joey pulled her away from the stairs, going down onto his knees to examine her. “Good, good, you look fine, but I, uh, seem to have torn your shirt when I grabbed you.”

He quickly took off his custom made jacket and handed it to her. She stared at it for a moment, then slipped it on with a sense of satisfaction, trying to smell it without Joey noticing. Then worry filled her.

“You didn’t see anything, did you?” she questioned with suspicion. Joey only smiled, and shook his head. “Good.”

“Anyways, I have one of Susie’s shirts that I had mended that should fit you upstairs, if y-you’ll oblige me by following,” Joey told her, leading the way. Dot’s heart began to flutter. Johan was so courteous, and kind! Her stomach twisted in lovesick knots. And then they were in his apartment! It was not exactly what she imagined it to be, far less lavish, but still, it was nonetheless very romantic and delightfully homely. Johan slipped into his room, and Dot resisted the urge to take a peek within. Then the man himself reappeared, and she held the edge of a chair to keep herself from swooning. Oh, but then Johan would catch her… Dot allowed herself to fall, and Johan leapt for her with a shout. “Are you ok?” His hand came to her forehead. “You’re warm, and your heart is going a mile a minute! Are you feeling sick at all?”

“No, I’m fine, Mr. Drew,” she replied, and goodness, his arms were so much more firm and strong than she had believed. It sent her stomach into triple summersaults. She wanted to dance with him, to watch him dance with her. Or for her. “Just a little tripped up is all.”

“You sure?” he seemed so lovingly concerned, his brows arched ever so slightly, his ruby eyes examining her carefully behind a mask. She smiled and nodded. “Ok… are you sure that you’re able to return to work?”

“Oh, oh, I’m fine,” she replied, blushing under his scrutinizing gaze. Even though he wore a mask, the pie cut eyes upon it seemed far too deep for black on white. “Thank you, Mr. Drew.”

“It is no problem at all,” Joey nodded. “Just make sure to return the shirt to Susie tomorrow. You know how she is with fashion.”

“Yes sir,” Dot replied breathlessly, watching the end of Mr. Drew’s cloak swish away through a hall, vanishing around the bend like a phantom, his footfall imperceptible. Dot felt her blush grow all the more, and a realization struck her. “I have to tell Buddy.”

*** “You’re crazy,” Buddy instantly rebuffed when she told him. He nearly dropped his inker. “You’re not going to marry Mr. Drew just because he’s a nice guy.”

“You don’t get it, he knows my secret and didn’t say anything about it,” she gushed, grinning so that her dimples showed. “Only true husband material would do so.”

“So am I husband material?” Buddy wondered aloud. Dot swatted at him, and he dodged her hand, holding onto his kippah. “Shomer negiah!”

“Right, sorry,” she apologized, air patting him. “I forgot. I’ll try not to again.”

“Seriously though,” Buddy chewed the end of his pen, then swapped it for a piece of mint gum. Johan had noticed his habit and bought him a few packets. “Mr. Drew’s just a really nice guy. You shouldn’t fall so hard for him, he’s not going to date you. Get that idea out of your head before it turns into something it shouldn’t.”

“Oh, shush, Daniel. It won’t.”

*** It did.

She managed to corner Joey in his office while he was not paying too much attention to the door. She locked it after he said his oh so sweet “do come in”. He smiled at her, and she wished she could see it without the mask. Then she decided she would.

“M-mademoiselle?” he stuttered as she marched up to him, steely resolve blazing in her eyes. “Is something the m-matter?”

“You’re a very handsome man,” Dot smirked. The enchanted mask’s expression vanished, becoming one of shock. She put a hand on it, and started to tug it off. A gloved hand pressed to hers to stop her action. She looked at Joey with surprise, all the more startled by his firm features. “Come on, Mr. Drew, don’t you like to live dangerously?”

“Er, uh, no, not really,” he was panicking, but refused to show her. He forced a scowl from his face, and took on a more authoritative role. “Dot. This behavior is unacceptable. I need you to leave this office and calm down.”

“Why so cold, Mr. Drew?” she pouted, resolutely tugging on his mask once more. A coldness burned into the room, torching the whole. Dot stepped back. “Mr. Drew…?”

“Please leave now.”

“I-I,” she flushed. Anger surged. “I’m going to sue!”

He blinked.

“I’ll say you harassed me!” she spat, and ran out in tears. “And I’ve got my shirt to prove it!”

Joey plopped into his chair, head in his hands, stressed.

“Damn teenagers.”

“You were one, too, for quite a while,” Henry chuckled, getting up from where he had hidden under the desk, for he and Joey were, ah, taking a break that involved each other’s mouths before Dot came in. He turned Joey’s mask to kiss his cheek. “An extra thirty to one hundred twenty years or so, wasn’t it?”

“I wasn’t aware of the time passing, no one was!” Joey defended himself. “Still, what am I going to do? If she really goes through with that threat… they’d, y’know….”

He drew a line across his dark throat.

“It’ll be fine,” Henry assured him. “I think that Susie and the others would catch her.”

“Why S-Susie?” Joey rose an eyebrow. Henry smiled, and replied, “Well, she has to return her shirt somehow, doesn’t she?”

*** Dot was still crying when she was returning the shirt to Susie. The singer exchanged glances with Allison.

“What happened, darling?” Susie probed gently, taking the shirt and setting it aside. Dot shook her head, not planning on fessing up. “Come on now. You can tell us.”

“Tell us what?” Lacie asked, swinging hir coat over hir shoulder. “Is it that lil’ crush of yours?”

“You know?” Dot squeaked, turning pink. Lacie grinned. “Nah, it was a lucky guess. So, Mr. Drew shut you down, didn’t he?”

“Why, yes, he did,” she sniffed. “So I’m going to sue him.”

Susie held in a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” she demanded, putting her hands on her hips. “I’m serious.”

“You might be serious but you’re not thinking about it,” Allison calmly iterated. “Now, think about something. Crow Laws. Even though they’re not here properly, there’s still a little something called ‘lynching’, and that would certainly happen if word gets out that a black man possibly did something to a white girl.”

“Oh,” Dot’s mouth opened. She blushed, looking at her hands. “Oh, oh no, you’re right. But I feel miserable.”

“You’re rushing, dear,” Susie sweetly patted her hand. “There’s no need for running about like a headless chicken. Take your time. Also, I can assure you, Mr. Drew is in a relationship.”

“He is?” her eyes widened, swept away by the mystery. “With whom?”

The three women glanced at each other with knowing grins.

“Tell me!”

***

Johan tried to avoid her, but she managed to catch him as he was leaving the art department.

“Mr. Drew,” Dot stood in front of him with her hands folded in front of herself. “I wanted to say I was sorry for my behavior yesterday.”

Joey relaxed, lowering his cocked brow.

“What I said was improper and my actions were hasty and rude,” she added. “And I’m very sorry for that. I’m also sorry for putting you on the spot like that. You’re a very good man.”

“Ah,” Joey smiled awkwardly. “I’m glad you’ve, er, thought about it. I am proud that you understand what kind of situation you were putting me in.”

“Yes, I do,” she nodded. “It won’t happen again. It should not have happened in the first place.”

“That’s agreed on,” Mr. Drew sighed. Dot shifted, and he could tell she wanted something else. “Anything e-else?”

“Just a small thing,” she smiled sheepishly. “Who’re you dating?”

Joey blushed behind his mask.

“That’s one mystery you’ll have to solve on your own.”

[barb-aricyawp]

what would peter and winter soldiers relationship be like after theyre both free from hydra and are recovering

This is such a great prompt. I’ve been sitting on it for a while and I’m glad I finally got the chance to respond to it. Part one is here. Part two is here. Part three is here.

trigger warnings: psychiatric hospitals, suicide attempts (the train is the most graphic)

The asset walks by Peter’s cell—room, it’s a room—while he sleeps. His therapist, Dr. Achebe warns him that he’s using Peter to self-harm: forcibly triggering guilt each time he looks at him. But the asset is always thinking about Peter.

Looking at him just solidifies what he’s already feeling.

---

The asset is told that Peter was given three options: he could return to Queens with his aunt, he could stay with Stark in the compound, or the US government could take him into custody for observation.

The asset is told that Peter asked, “Where is the Winter Soldier going?” and requested to be sent to Wakanda as well.

The asset is told all this and goes back to his cell room. There, he calmly strips his bed and wrings his bedsheet into a knotted rope. He tries to hang himself.

—-

It doesn’t work, of course. He is a super soldier and his collapsed trachea mends while the nurses cut him down.

He is placed on suicide watch, the blinds of his cell room are permanently open and the orderlies check in on him every five minutes. But the asset still finds a way to sneak out.

He gathers wildflowers from the brush surrounding the facility. He binds their stems with a reed that he softens on his own tongue. It leaves a bitter taste that lingers even after the Soldier has laid the flowers outside Peter’s room.

—-

It is by pure accident that they pass in the hall. The asset is on his way to physical therapy, lost in a memory about Coney Island.

“Soldier!” someone calls and the asset’s head snaps up, disoriented. Here, he is called Sargent Barnes. Only HYDRA referred to him as ‘Soldier.’ Well, HYDRA and...

It’s Peter Parker, flanked by a nurse in pastel pink scrubs. He looks well—smiling and flushed and filling out again into adolescent softness that the asset tried to carve off of him.

“Soldier!” It’s how Peter referred to him when he begged, starving and exhausted, pleading for kindness. “Soldier!” It’s what Peter said when he got out of the chair, scared and anchored only in his abuser. “Soldier!” Peter had called out to him when they were rescued.

The asset has done terrible things to this boy. Could do terrible things to him again. He shouldn’t have been rescued at all. He should have been executed.

He staggers back against the wall, folding himself into his smallest shape so as to leave room for Peter. So as to prove that he’s not a threat. His doctors practically drag him along, away from Peter who is still calling “Soldier! Soldier!”

—-

Dr. Achebe takes the asset down to the market, ostensibly so they can purchase some fruit, but most likely to give the asset some psychic distance.

He has been numb since the incident in the corridor. He is mute and expressionless as he selects five plums and a painted ceramic pot. The asset has plans to eat one plum and leave the rest in the pot for Peter outside his door.

“The problem with super soldiers,” Dr. Achebe says after she’s paid for his fruit, “Is that there is no way to protect them from themselves. Can you promise me that you won’t try to harm yourself tonight?”

“I can,” the asset says.

—-

He waits until the lights have dimmed in the hall, then he carefully removes the metal grate from the vent. The asset is slighter than he once was, withered down to the bones. He fits through the vent, slithers through to the outdoors, and makes his way to the train station.

Once there, he stands on the platform. Wakanda’s train system is not dissimilar to New York’s subway, and for a moment he feels a bit like Bucky Barnes, marveling at human ingenuity, waiting for the train to come in.

The air pressure changes in the tunnel, signaling an oncoming car. Bucky turns away from it, back to the tracks. He could walk away then, but he doesn’t.

He falls backwards and there is a moment where his spine hits the tracks, just before the train comes in, when he thinks that he has bad luck with trains.

It hurdles over him. The wheels catch his arm and mangle it against the rail. That’s all he feels before he loses consciousness.

—-

Steve is waiting by his side when Bucky wakes up. And he looks just about as terrible as Bucky feels.

“Huh,” Bucky says with mild disappointment. He realizes he’s missing a chunk of his tongue. “So, I survived that too.”

“Hey, Buck,” Steve says, scrubbing his face in both hands.

“Hey.” Bucky tries to pull out the IV in his elbow and finds that, one handed, he cannot. “Gonna lecture me on my self preservation skills?”

Steve shrugs. “Why would I? You wouldn’t listen.” He smiles when Bucky laughs, and it seems sincere. “Peter says you left him some plums before you—before the—“

Bucky puts him out of his misery. “I did.”

“That was nice of you.”

“Yeah, I’m his real guardian angel.” Bucky sits up some and regrets it. His body is in shambles, but it could be worse. Considering.

“He wants to see you, you know.”

Bucky winces. “No, he doesn’t.“

Steve gives him a look that lances straight through him. “You deserve forgiveness. And he deserves to give it to you.”

—-

Bucky goes away as the asset approaches Peter’s room. One moment, he is himself, the next he is an empty house with the lights left on.

Peter winces when he sees the asset again. At first, the asset assumes he flinched from fear. But then Peter reaches out, brushes his fingers over the mottled bruise over the asset’s mandible, and asks, “What happened?”

The asset shakes his head. “It’s not important. I—Why did you want to see me?”

Peter sits up a little straighter, as if only now remembering that he’s here. That he asked for this.

“I wanted to see if you were okay, I wanted to—I didn’t realize it until we got here, but I just realized that I know all this stuff about you, that we went through this just horrible thing together and you basically saved my life, but I don’t even know your name.”

The asset pauses. “They wouldn’t tell you my name?”

Peter shrugs. “Dr. Mwangi says he’s not allowed to disclose patient information.”

“So, I systematically tortured and brainwashed you for nearly a year and they wouldn’t tell you my name?” The asset can’t help himself—he laughs.

Peter seems startled; he’s never heard the asset laugh before. But within moments, he’s laughing too and then they’re laughing together so hard that tears squeeze from their eyes and the asset bends over laughing and hacking.

“It’s Bucky,” he says, swallowing air in great gulps. “My name is Bucky.”

“I’m Peter.” He takes Bucky’s hand, though it’s laid against his chest, hanging in a sling. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

[argylemnwrites]

OTP Questions

Thanks for the tag, @addictedtodrakefanfic!

1.Who is the most affectionate?

Riley is probably more physically affectionate than Drake, particularly in public.

2. Big spoon/Little spoon?

To be honest, Riley’s a stomach sleeper most nights. They sometimes will start with Drake as the big spoon, but Riley has usually rolled onto her stomach by the time they wake up.

3.Most common argument?

In canon, they often are at odds with how to raise Bridget. Riley is pretty defensive and protective, particularly when it comes to royal duties/obligations and pushes back on a lot of things. Drake remembers a lot of the good times he and Liam had together at the palace and has a harder time saying no to Liam’s requests, so while he grumbles about some of the time his family spends in the spotlight, he’s more likely to go along with whatever Liam recommends for raising an heir. It’s a frequent point of contention between the two of them.

In the It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment universe, Riley will agree to plans for the two of them without running it by Drake first if she knows he has nothing going on. Drake has told her repeatedly that she shouldn’t just assume he’s free.

4. Favorite non-sexual activity?

They like playing card games together, or rather against each other. They both are very competitive, and will often make bets ranging from the mundane to the ridiculous. They also enjoy drinking together while they play

5. Who is most likely to carry the other?

Riley is fairly strong for her size, but she is not deluded enough to think she could carry Drake. Drake doesn’t really carry her often either. The most he’ll typically do is a couple of steps to bed in the heat of the moment. Sheer physical strength is the one area where Drake can one up her 100% of the time, and it feels strange to both of them when they aren’t on an even playing field. They both like keeping things competitive.

6. What is their favorite feature of their partner’s?

Riley really loves Drake’s shoulders. Not only are they strong and broad, but she can really easily read his mood based on changes in his posture. She’s also a big fan of his hands. Drake is fascinated by her hair and loves running his hands through it. Her laugh gets him as well.

7. What’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

Drake starts calling her Liu to create some distance, but at the same time he finds it harder and harder to say no when she invites him to do something together, or even with Maxwell and Hana. Riley knows it’s not great that she’s developed feelings for the best friend of the guy shes been flirting with and making out with, so she decides she needs to spend more time with Drake so she can either get some clarity or get him out of her system. The end result is they start spending a ton of time together and the feelings keep growing and growing.

8. Nicknames? & if so, how did they originate?

In canon, Drake calls her Liu until they’re married, at which point he switches to Walker (except during sex, because that’s sort of creepy). Riley knows that the reminder that they share a last name, that she chose him, helps him when he feels out of his depth at court, so she suggested the change.

In the It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment universe, since they don’t rush to get married, she’s Liu to him for much longer and it would just feel weird to Drake to call her anything else.

Riley doesn’t have a nickname for Drake. She tries a few on, but she hates all of them for him, so she just calls him Drake.

9. Who worries the most?

Drake definitely worries more often, but it’s a low level concern typically. Given how much Riley endured during her childhood, she’s usually of the opinion that things will have a way of working out. However, when she does worry about something, she tumbles into a massive spiral of panic and fear and it can be hard for her to rein herself back in or for Drake to reassure her. Luckily, that doesn’t happen often.

10. Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

They both are pretty observant of the other’s likes and dislikes when it comes to food. Drake tends to like the same staples over and over, so Riley will often push him to at least try something new. Riley will get so caught up in what pictures look good, that she won’t check the actual written description, so Drake will often stop her from ordering something he knows she’s gonna hate.

11. Who tops?

Their competitive nature definitely comes out in the bedroom as well, so this ends up being about 50/50.

12. Who initiates kisses?

Riley probably initiates kissing slightly more often, but it’s fairly even.

13. Who reaches for the other’s hand first?

Riley’s a big hand holder, so she’ll reach for his hand before he often even has the chance to think of taking hers.

14. Who kisses the hardest?

Again, they’re competitive. They both tend to be aggressive, possessive kissers, but never in public. Any kisses there are kept light because they both feel weird with excessive PDA.

15. Who wakes up first?

Drake. He’s a morning person and a light sleeper. Riley is neither of those things.

16. Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?

Riley.

17. Who says I love you first?

In canon, Riley beats him to it after the shooting. In the It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment universe, Drake says it first.

After their first time of saying it, it’s pretty even who says it first, but to be fair, they aren’t a big “I love you,” couple. Neither one would score very high for words of affirmation as a love language, so they usually find ways to show each other as opposed to saying it all the time.

18. Who leaves little notes in the other’s one lunch? (Bonus: what does it usually say?)

No. That is way too cutesy for them. The only time they came close to doing this was in the It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment universe. Drake will sometimes set aside some leftovers in a bag for Riley to take to work, and one time she opened the bag and saw a folded sheet of paper in there. It turns out, Drake had printed out the wikipedia page about cheesecake because they’d been bickering over where cheesecake was first created the night before, and he couldn’t let her have the last word.

19. Who tells their family/friends about their relationship first?

Riley tells Maxwell she’s developing feelings for someone besides Liam during the social season and he has a pretty good idea who she means, but then she doesn’t bring it up again, so he assumes that fizzled out until he sees them making out in NYC (It’s why he tells her not to worry about House Beaumont at the UN party later that night). Drake doesn’t tell anyone (friends or family) until they are openly and officially together.

20. What do their family/friends think of their relationship?

Riley has no family left living where she has any sort of relationship. Savannah and Bianca like Riley a lot (certainly more than she likes either of them, though she tries not to show it) and they think she and Drake are good for each other. Leona doesn’t really warm to Riley ever. No love lost there as the feeling is mutual. Their friends all think they are insanely well suited for each other.

21. Who is more likely to start dancing with the other?

Riley

22. Who cooks more/who is better at cooking?

Drake is the better cook and does basically all the cooking in the It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment universe and some cooking to try and keep the staff presence at Valtoria low in canon.

23. Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines?

Riley sometimes will do this to annoy the shit out of Drake.

24. Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear during inappropriate times?

Both of them. So much. It’s just another thing for them to compete over, seeing who can crack the other one first.

25. Who needs more assurance?

They both have pretty deep seated insecurities and abandonment issues, so they both need reassurance somewhat often. However, they never really mind, because they both understand exactly where the other one is coming from.

26. What would be their theme song?

They don’t have a song that’s “their song,” but I feel like “Best Part of Me” by Ed Sheeran and YEBBA represents them well.

27. Who would sing to their child back to sleep?

Riley. Drake is more of a ramble about anything and everything to lull them back to sleep type of parent.

28. What do they do when they’re away from each other?

Inside jokes or snarky texts, Facetime or Skype sex. If they’re apart for a longer stretch of time, Drake gets a little more sentimental and sends her more genuine, heartfelt messages.

29. one headcanon about this OTP that breaks your heart

My canon one is too bleak for this (seriously, there is no headcanon to mend it), so I’ll just say there is at least one serious medical condition ahead for each of them in the It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment universe.

30. one headcanon about this OTP that mends it

They always go to the scary doctor’s appointments together, though and they support each other through the medical struggles.

This was so much fun! Tagging @thequeenofcronuts @ravenpuff02 @burnsoslow @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore​ if you all haven’t been tagged yet. Would love to hear about your couples!

[dylinski]

Watch Me Bleed (1/?)

Warnings: Cussing, Slow Burn, Violence, Angst, Smoking, Alcohol Use

Relationships: Mitch Rapp/Reader

Word Count: 2585

Author: @dylan-obrien-fanblog

Summary: Being a doctor wasn't easy, but being one to these military boys was worse. According to Stan Hurley, "You are here to mend their broken bones, but outside of that, you know nothing of the operation or why they are here." And you were absolutely okay with that. Working in medicine takes a certain iron will, but you took an oath to heal and do no harm. Whatever these men were doing, harm was most certainly involved.

A/N: This was originally going to be a one shot, but then I hit 2.5K. Apparently I don't know how to do one shots because everything I start writing is turning into WIPs. I've took elements from both the movie and the book. Feedback, positive and negative is always appreciated. Thanks.

Chapter 1

“Mitch, you still with me?” You caught his attention and he looked up and nodded at you as you continued to examine his arm. Being a doctor wasn’t easy, but being one to these military boys was worse. Day in and day out they came in, multiple times a day. They pushed their bodies to their limits, which lead to health problems, whether they reveal themselves now or later on in life. “It doesn’t look broken, but you should avoid doing anything that could make it worse. Otherwise, you’re good to go.” He gave a polite nod and hopped off the table, rubbing his arm as he left. Every man you examined didn’t know how to stop talking from the moment they stepped into the office, but Mitch was different. He had been here for three months and hadn’t said a single word to you once. Stan or another trainer would bring him in, tell you what you needed to check, you’d clear him, and then he’d give you the polite nod, and leave.

His presence and silence grew on you, making him easy to work with. His lack of communication wasn’t rude or arrogant, but calming and peaceful. He had a way of communicating with his eyes and facial expressions. By now, you knew what each and every one meant intimately. According to the other men who came to see you, Mitch was quiet with everyone and kept to himself. He would speak to them here and there, but not without reason. You never saw him outside of this room though. Your office was in the main cabin, but you lived in a smaller cabin a few miles outside of the property lines. It was better that way for everyone, or how Stan Hurley had put it. You are here to mend their broken bones, but outside of that, you know nothing of the operation or why they are here. And you were absolutely okay with that. Working in medicine takes a certain iron will, but you took an oath to heal and do no harm. Whatever these men were doing, harm was most certainly involved.

“Hey Stan,” You walked into the kitchen of the cabin, which was more like a mansion made of wood, and found him sitting at the table reading a newspaper. The aroma of coffee and cigarettes invading your nostrils the second you entered. “I thought you quit.”

Without even looking up, he responded in a raspy voice, “I did.”

All you could do was shake your head. There was no point in arguing with the man since he wouldn’t listen to anyone, especially a doctor. He could hold his side of an argument until both of you were blue in the face. “I’m headed back to my cabin for the evening. Anything you need before I go?”

Again, without his eyes leaving the paper, “Nope.”

Thanking God he couldn’t see it, you rolled your eyes at the man and began walking out. As you were opening the door to your car, one of the agents was running up to you with haste and urgency. His last name was Jones, but only Stan, a few instructors, and yourself knew that. None of the recruits were allowed to use their real names and were all given an alias when accepted into the program. His was Glenn, you were pretty sure anyways. “Wait!” He shouted, out of breath as he made his way to where you stood.

“What is it Glenn?” You asked. His words were separated by breathes. For someone in his physical condition, it shouldn’t be that hard for him to catch his breath. You made a mental note to see him in your office later.

“Victor…and...Irv.” Shit. Victor was Stan’s inside man. He posed as another recruit and weeded out what Stan deemed “unworthy” trainees. You most certainly didn’t approve of Victor’s methods since it usually ended with him in your office after the booted agents punched him in the face. What frightened you most though was Irv. That was the name designated to Mitch. Your first fear was that Victor got to him and he was being kicked out of Orion, but then you realized you had never seen him fight. You knew Victor’s handiwork all too well, and for all you knew, Mitch was getting the shit kicked out of him.

“Show me.” Was all you said as Glenn started running back towards the barn and you followed at his heels. You still had your medical bad hanging on your shoulder, which was good, because you had no doubt you would need it. You had never been to the barn before, or anywhere on the grounds besides the main cabin. If they were injured, they always came to you. When you arrived at the large doors, the barn was, in fact, a barn. The inside had been renovated and looked like a gym, concrete floor with large mats for combat training. The walls were lined with weights, bars bolted to the walls, and other types of equipment.

As you scanned the room, all the recruits and instructors were huddled around a mat in the far corner. You ran over and pushed your way through the sweaty and smelly men. When the sea of bodies parted, what you saw left you speechless with a smug smile. Mitch had Victor’s head between his thighs and was holding his arm above his head. Seeing Victor’s face, a mixture of red and blue, was satisfying. His face and shirt was covered in blood. It was hard to tell from where you stood, but you were pretty sure Mitch broke his nose at some point before you got there. The arrogant son-of-a-bitch deserved it. Every time he came in to see you, he would flirt by telling you how sexy you were, or by smacking your ass, and other things like that. Team Mitch all the way.

Lost in the thralls of violence, everyone went silent when a furious Stan stomped onto the scene. “What the fuck is going on here?” He shoved through the crowd and Mitch immediately released his grip on his victim. He shot up, standing tall and straight as all the other men, with the exclusion of Victor, did as well. He looks over Mitch and Victor, shaking his head and then stalks towards the long haired man. “What the fuck do you think your doing? You can bet your ass I’m gonna get you kicked to the curb.” Mitch moved his gaze from looking into the distance to looking Stan directly in his eyes. A chill ran down your spine as you recognized the look he shot at the steaming man. I dare you.

If the old man wasn’t mad before, he sure as shit was now, his face turned beet red. It got you thinking that he should probably start monitoring his blood pressure if Mitch didn’t get the boot. Stan rushed the boy and stopped with their noses almost touching. He raised his hand with a pointed finger, frozen until he realized that everyone was now watching the two of them. He stepped back, composing himself, but his anger was still clearly visible. He turned to you and motioned to Victor, who was writhing on the floor, “Clean that shithead up.” All you did was nod, fearing anything you said would stir him. You stood like a statue as he stormed out, most likely to call Irene. You started towards the man on the floor, who was now sitting up and touching his face.

“He broke my nose.” Victor whined.

“I know buddy. I know.” You told him as you helped him up. As you guided him out of the barn, clear as day, you heard Mitch scoff with arrogance from behind and couldn’t help but smile. You were starting to like this guy.

Your office was on the lower level of the building, so when you brought Victor in, you weren’t surprised by bangs, crashes, and inaudible shouts coming from above you. Ignoring them, you sat Victor on the examination table and went to the sink to wet a cloth. “It looks like the bleeding has stopped. Use this to wipe off the blood so I can get a better look.” You handed him the rag and pulled out his file. When he had cleaned his face, you went over to examine his nose. “I see in your file that this is the 6th time your nose has been broken. You must have some terrible scar tissue on the cartilage.” He answered with a grumble in his throat, which was unusual. You turned to get something for Victor to bite on. Out of view, you laughed to yourself thinking, damn, Mitch actually shut this bitch up.

“Bite down on this.” You say as you hand him a leather strap.

“Why?”

“Because I need to set the bones in the bridge of your nose or it’s going to heal crooked.” He glared at you as he placed the material between his teeth. “On the count of three. One. Two.” You put all your strength into the movement to push the bone back into its proper place. An audible crunch was muffled by the shouts of Victor through gritted teeth.

“You said three!” He growled at you.

“Did I?” You smirked at the irritated man. “You should be good to go. If the pain becomes too unbearable, I’ll see about giving you some painkillers.” He turned and stomped out like a two year-old, mumbling inaudible obscenities under his breath. You crossed your arms, laughing and shaking your head at the tantrum. You turn to clean up the mess he left behind when a knock causes you to spin back around. You were surprised to see Mitch standing in the doorway, smirking. You had never seen that look on him before, and you liked it. You motioned to the table and he hopped on, grabbing his shoulder and wincing at the motion. You shot him a look and he smiled back, trying to ease your concern. You turn to him and lightly touch his arm.

“AH.” You immediately shoot your hands back as if you were surrendering as he winced to your touch.

“Is it your shoulder or your arm?”

“Both.” He says, looking at you innocently. You realized that this was the first time you had ever heard his voice. Surprised by how soft and warm it was, contrasting his hard and worn exterior, it left a look of surprise on your face. Mitch mistook your expression and worry fell to his. “Is that bad?” You brought yourself back to the moment.

“Um. I don’t know yet. I’ll have to examine it. Let me know if the pain is too much.” He nodded in agreement. As you lift his arm, he closed his eyes tight and looked away, gritting his teeth. You knew the pain was worse than he was letting on, but he was the type of man who could handle it. You didn’t know anything about him besides his medical history and name, but by the look in his eyes, you could tell he had suffered enough pain for multiple lifetimes. Part of you wondered what he had gone through, but you also knew it wasn’t your business and you had no right to ask. His face seemed to relax as you slowly turned and lifted the extremity. “It doesn’t hurt anymore?”

“No, it still does. I’m just getting used to it.” You raised your eyebrows as you gently laid the arm back down.

“Pain isn’t bad, you know? It’s good. It's our bodies telling us something is wrong. The brain registers the pain and tells us where it’s hurting so we know what to fix.” You smile at him as you try to explain. He looks down to his feet for a moment, then looks back up to you with moist eyes that refused to let tears fall. The pain you had seen in his eyes in the past, now brimming and overflowing.

“What if everything hurts...all the time?” Your smile melted away as you swallowed the lump in your throat. Your own eyes now reflecting his sorrow. You both knew he wasn’t talking about physical pain. You didn’t know say to that, so he looked back down to his feet when you failed to respond. After a minute of thick silence, he sat up straight.

“So, um. It doesn’t look like a break, but there’s a good chance your humerus is fractured and you have a sprained shoulder. If you had listened to me earlier today, your arm would be fine” He looked at you with frustration. You knew it wasn’t towards you, but because of what you said. “You’ll have to get a x-ray and most likely wear a sling for a couple weeks.” He turned his head to look at the floor and grunted with the motion. “I’ll let Stan know. Try not to use your right arm or shoulder for the time being.” He grunted in acknowledgment, giving his familiar polite nod as he slid off the table and left.

With Mitch gone, it was silent. When that normally would have been nice, it worried you as you remembered the state Hurley was in earlier. You headed upstairs and found him sitting at the same table as earlier, drinking straight from the bottle and smoking a cigarette. You went to sit across from him. Yes, the man was your superior and scared you most of the time, but you caught glimpses of him being vulnerable and this was one of those times. “I’m guessing you didn’t like what Irene had to say.” Irene Kennedy is someone you have known for many years and a good friend. She’s the one who asked you to join Orion, knowing she could trust you not only to take care of ‘her boys’, but also to be discreet about the operation.

“No. In fact, she said she’s on her way right now.” He said mockingly and slightly slurred. “Apparently kicking the shit out of Victor isn’t grounds to exile him. She said I was stupid to put him with the recruits, undercover. She also said if I did anything or talked to Mitch before she got here, I’d never hear the end of it.” He scoffed in disgust at the idea of her shaking him down. You smiled at the inconsolable man and started to get up when he stopped you. “She’ll be here in an hour. She wants to talk to you too since you saw more of it than I did.”

“I only got there a couple minutes before you did. I don’t know what she would want to talk to me.”  He rolled his eyes in agreement, but there was no arguing with Irene, she was just as bad as Stan. You sat back down and grabbed the bottle from in front of aged man and took a long gulp. He laughed as he relaxed his face.

“Damn girl. If I had known you had the stomach, I’d have invited you to drink with me sooner.” You laughed as you were drinking, causing you to choke on the bourbon. You started a coughing fit that was laced with a laugh.

Wiping away the bit of liquid on your chin, you responded, “Oh yeah. Before I forget, Rapp needs an x-ray.” And just like that, Stan was back on his shit.

Main → Next

[vengfulfate]

Both of Them, and Only Them, Ch. 10

Story Summary -   Melanie and Miltiades Malachite have trouble with love. They share everything, and this has either scared people away or made them think their relationship was more open than the twins would wish. Then along came Ruby Rose… could she be the one the sisters have searched for?

Chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine

I apologize to everyone who looks forward to this story for the extended gaps between updates. This is kind of a side project for me. It's getting a chapter now because I haven't settled on my next project yet and wanted to get some writing done. It might get another chapter or two in the next few weeks, or it might not. It all depends on how things go.

Please enjoy!

   ---

The morning came, and neither Weiss nor Ruby knew how to breach the subject. They prepared for their mission around each other in uncomfortable silence. The tension between them only grew along side the silence, and Yang and Blake feared it would boil over badly. As much as they wanted to avoid it, neither of them knew how to get the former ‘BFFs’ to an agreeable conclusion either.

Even the arrival of Zwei, Ruby and Yang’s corgi from Patch, did little to lessen the anxious air. The subject was all that was on their minds, but none of them had to courage to breach it. Not until they were almost on the airship, anyways.

“Hey, Yang?” Ruby asked for her sister to get some words in the air, “What are the details of the mission you guys picked, anyway?”

“Oh yeah, about that…” Yang began cautiously, “We tried to pick a mission that turned out to be restricted to first-years…”

“Then Ozpin came out of nowhere, basically told us he knew exactly what we were up to, and approved us for the restricted mission,” Weiss finished matter-of-factly.

“So… our mission is to actually look for the White Fang?” Ruby asked, confused.

“Not officially,” Blake answered, “But I’m pretty sure that’s what was implied.”

“And… our thing?” Ruby finally directed to Weiss. Getting a conversation out had exactly the effect she hoped. “It won’t get in the way, right?”

“Of course not,” Weiss stated sharply, her classic cold demeanor reemerging.

Yang wouldn’t exactly call it progress, but at least the team knew they would still work efficiently together. It was enough for the team, at least for now.

   ---

Their mission brought them to the ruins of the township of Mountain Glenn. A failed expansion of Vale, Mountain Glenn was a concrete jungle of crumbling buildings and wandering grimm. The concentration of grimm had spiked in recent weeks, which was not unusual on it’s own, but it still lined up with the information Blake had obtained. After a long afternoon with little progress, RWBY and their chaperon set up camp for the night in one of the many collapsed buildings.

Ruby was keeping watch when Doctor Oobleck, their history teacher and huntsmen chaperon clad in safari clothing, approached her. “Good evening, Ms. Rose.”

“Hey, professor,” Ruby greeted in turn in her usual cheerful demeanor.

“Doctor,” Oobleck warned.

“Right, sorry,” Ruby giggled.

“You team is very impressive, for first year students,” Oobleck complemented.

“Thank you!” Ruby smiled. After a pause, she added, “Doctor.”

“But there is a tension here, isn’t there?” the teacher pointed out.

Ruby’s smile failed. “You see it?”

“I do,” Oobleck nodded.

“It won’t get in the way,” Ruby promised, “we’ve talked it over.”

“But not resolved it?” Oobleck pressed further.

Ruby sighed. “Doctor, how do you feel about… polygamy?”

“Hm...” Oobleck thought. That seemed a lot more complicated than what he initially assumed teenagers would argue over. “I believe there is too much negativity in the world deny someone something that makes them happy.”

“One of my team mates doesn’t believe it can be real,” Ruby explained.

“And another is partaking in a polygamous relationship?” Oobleck deduced.

“I am,” Ruby confirmed.

Oobleck couldn’t help but think back on the various observations he had made that day. “Not to be inconsiderate, but Ms. Schnee...?”

Ruby did a double take, panicking for a brief moment. She felt like confirming such was akin to bad mouthing her behind her back. “I… shouldn’t gossip.”

“Of course,” Oobleck nodded, understanding. “I admit I don’t have any advice for you. Much as he may seem it, Professor Ozpin is not omnipotent. Teams are not always a perfect storm of friends and confidants. Being able to work together regardless is part of being an adult.”

“We’re trying,” Ruby nodded. “I just wish I could make her see she’s wrong.”

“She may be wrong in this specific instance, but her fears are not entirely unfounded,” Oobleck defended. “There are those in this world who would prey upon the young, hopeful and niave. If she is concerned for you, it proves that she indeed cares about you.”

Ruby cast her gaze behind her, landing on the heiress’s figure bundled in her sleeping bag. She smiled. “I guess it does. She’ll come around. I can feel it.”

“You are her leader and friend, and would know her better than I,” Oobleck explained, “if you feel as such, I’m sure it will be so.”

“Thank you, professor,” Ruby nodded. Oobleck opened his mouth, but Ruby quickly cut him off, “Doctor! Heh, sorry.”

Oobleck closed his mouth and smiled. With a nod, he left the young leader to resume her watch.

   ---

Weiss gazed over the city with blank eyes. It was her turn to watch camp, but her mind was engulfed by other thoughts. Truth is, she was wide awake when Oobleck prodded Ruby about the tension in the team. She heard the entire conversation, and it gave her plenty to think about. She knew her upbringing was oppressive, to say the least, but there had to be a line somewhere?

“Hey, Weiss?”

Her concerns weren’t baseless, that much Oobleck agreed with

“Um, Weiss?”

But was it really true that Ruby’s relationship could be fine? Healthy, even?

“Weeeiiiiissss?”

Weiss was ready to wait in the wings with an ‘I told you so’, but maybe-

“Weiss!”

“Huh?” Weiss spun around, finally broken from her train of thought.

“Finally,” Ruby sighed in relief, having finally gotten Weiss’s attention. “Are you still tired? We can swap watches if you need more rest.”

“No, I’m fine,” Weiss insisted.

“Alright,” Ruby shrugged, “anyway, I wanted to say I think I noticed something. It’s probably nothing, but I’m gunna go check it out.”

Weiss nodded, “don’t rush into something, okay? Call us if you need us.”

“I will,” Ruby promised.

Weiss nodded and cast her gaze back over the city once more. Ruby may not be a genius, but she was far from stupid. Crescent Rose alone could attest to that. And she is training to be a huntress, so it wasn’t likely the twins had physically overpowered her at any point.

I was ready to standby with an ‘I told you so’, but maybe that’s not how I should be thinking. And it won’t help Ruby should that come to pass. Perhaps I should support her now, and be there for her later if the worst indeed happens. And if it doesn’t happen, if Ruby’s relationship is valid…

“I don’t want to lose her as a friend,” Weiss finished her thought aloud.

The sunrise wasn’t far away, and soon the light and warmth of morning was rousing the sleeping hunters.

“Well!” Oobleck stretched and took a swing from his portable mug, “Who’s ready for a brand new day!?”

“Wait a minute,” Blake looked around, “something’s not right...”

“Yeah, where’s my sister!?” Yang noticed.

“What do you mean?” Weiss asked, “Isn’t she back?”

“Back?” Blake questioned in turn.

“She told me she was going to check something out,” Weiss explained, “and she promised to call in if it turned out to be, well, something. I never got a call.”

“And you didn’t notice she never returned!?” Yang shouted, “How long has she been gone!?”

“Girls!” Oobleck quickly took control of the situation, “now is not the time for anger. Whatever lessons this mistake can teach must be pondered later. First, we resolve the mistake itself. You leader may be in danger, and we must stay calm as we search for her.”

Camp was packed hastily and the group set out with no delay. Blake was the first to spot Crescent Rose, folded on the ground in front of a large sinkhole. Oobleck began a rant about sealed subway lines underneath the township, but Weiss could barely hear it.

She was looking forward to telling Ruby about her change of mind and hopefully mending their friendship, and subsequently the connection with the rest of the team, in the process. Now the girl was in danger and Weiss would regret it the rest of her life if she never got the chance to repair that particular bridge.

“Well, Weiss?” Blake broke through the heiress’s haze of thoughts, “You with us?”

Weiss quickly deduced what they were asking, not that it was very hard. They needed to go down into the dark. Weiss picked up Crescent Rose, steeling her resolve. She looked to the others and nodded, “Let’s go save our fearless leader.”

   ---

Melanie yawned as she leaned across the bar. “Why on earth are we awake again?”

“Because Junior agreed to host a wedding reception and he needed hands,” Miltiades reminded her sister.

“Who the hell has a reception at a nightclub?” Melanie stifled a laugh, “They’re probably under 20. I give them two months.”

“Don’t be rude,” Junior scolded, “They’re paying customers. Well paying customers.”

Melanie sighed. “Can you at least turn that off?” she pointed to the television currently displaying the morning news. “It’s putting me to sleep.”

Junior nodded and picked up the remote.

“Wait!” Miltiades stopped him, staring at the screen.

“What?” Melanie looked up and read the screen.

BREAKING NEWS: Explosion! Huntsmen and Grimm brawl in downtown Vale!

“Holy shit...” Junior read, “Don’t think that’s near us, though.”

“Mel...” Miltiades pointed again as the ‘huntsmen’ came into frame.

Black hair. Combat boots. Red cape. “Ruby!”

Now wide awake, Melanie dashed out of the club. Miltiades made to follow, but stopped short. The less brash twin didn’t want to leave without her boss’s blessing.

“Go,” Junior told her. Miltiades nodded and ran after her sister.

By the time the twins reached the battlefield, the chaos had already passed. Someone in handcuffs was being loaded onto an airship and a tall blonde the twins recognized as a Beacon teacher from the dance was talking to a man in safari gear. Ruby and her team stood close by. Blake spotted the twins first, nudging Ruby’s shoulder.

“Girls!” Ruby’s eyes lit up as she jogged over to them, “what are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” Melanie turned it around, “I thought your mission was outside the kingdom, not blowing up downtown Vale!?”

Ruby, perhaps still high on battle adrenaline and victory, giggled.

“What?” Melanie asked, confused.

“I’m sorry,” Ruby continued to grin widely, “but you acting all super concerned like is adorable.”

In another rare display, Melanie stuttered and struggled to respond, simply crossing her arms as her face lit up.

“She does has a point,” Miltiades defended, “What happened?”

“Well...” Ruby searched for where to begin.

Before she could, the three were interrupted by an approaching Weiss. “So,” the heiress cut in, “Which of you is ‘Miltia’?”

The twins shared a silent conversation, quickly deducing this was Weiss. They crossed their arms defensively before Miltiades answered, “I am Miltiades.”

“And I don’t believe I have heard your name?” Weiss looked to the other twin.

“Melanie,” the white twin answered.

“I am Weiss Schnee,” the heiress introduced herself elegantly.

“We figured,” the twins answered in unison.

“Right...” Weiss nodded, slightly unnerved. She pushed through regardless, saying what she wanted to say. “I have made some comments recently that I have come to regret. And I apologize.”

Melanie raised an eyebrow at this while Miltiades cautiously lowered her crossed arms. Ruby placed her hand on her partner’s shoulder. “Weiss?”

Weiss lowered Ruby’s hand before continuing. “The team is trusting Ruby would let us know if anything untoward is happening, and I can’t deny you are making her happy. I won’t attempt to disguise that I still have my doubts… However, I look forward to the three of you proving me wrong.”

“Was that… acceptance?” Melanie looked to her twin.

“It sounded like it to me,” Miltiades answered.

“I knew it!” Ruby drew her partner into a crushing hug, “I knew you’d come around!”

“Off! Ruby, get off!” Weiss panicked, trying to pry herself away. “Get off me! Down! Down!”

Ruby let herself be peeled off, retaining her grin. “You like it.”

The heiress huffed, but made no real rebuttal. Instead, she turned back to the twins. “As much as I’m sure Ruby would love to run away with you right now, we’re still ‘on the clock’, so to speak, until we debrief at Beacon. I’m glad to have finally met the two of you.”

“Wait, we still haven’t heard what happened?” Melanie recalled.

“I’ll call you the second I’m free!” Ruby promised as she and Weiss walked back to their team. “I should be going before Professor Goodwitch gets angry. Well, angry-er. I love you both!”

Melanie frowned at missing the story. Miltiades supplied, “We love you too.”

As Ruby and Weiss fell back in line with the team, Ruby offered a, “Thank you, Weiss.”

Weiss smiled. “I know I don’t show it well, but I do appreciate our friendship. Same with Yang and Blake as well. You constantly show me how to better myself, really better myself and not just… well, you know.”

“Don’t worry, Weiss,” Ruby smirked, “We’ll have you wearin’ PJ pants all weekend with some wicked bedhead like the rest of us lazy commoners before you know it!”

“As if!” Weiss defended. “I will hold on to some decorum, thank you very much! There is a difference between elitism and harmless class.”

“You’re definitely a class act,” Yang jabbed.

Weiss turned to the blonde. “Yang, I-”

“Stop worrying,” Yang cut her off. She flashed a smile for good measure. “Just messin’ with ya, shortstack.”

Weiss returned the smile. “Brute.”

[mrneighbourlove]

Into the Darkness and Unknown: Ch 6. Poking the Bear

The previous skirmish had Echidan doctor’s scrambling about. Luckily, most of the warriors escaped with minor wounds. The other extreme were so who weren’t so lucky as to keep their lives. At the infirmary, Leere was sweating buckets. Her leg twisted with pain from the injuries of the battle against Dio and her demons. Her femur was broken, and she trying to keep her breathing steady.

A Kokyangwuti approached Leere, all eight of the legs tapping against the stone floor. Very gently, she touched the sides of Leere's head. A voice followed through her mind.

"Mother said this spell should help me communicate to you since our tongue is unknown to you." She introduced herself. "I am Nomusa, the younger sister of Negasi and Morowa. You know them as Blue and White." Going around to the side of the bed, magic crackled in her hands. "I will heal your wounds now. This will not hurt. However, you might feel a slight pressure. Are you ready?"

“I’m glad to hear it’s someone I’m somewhat familiar with. Whenever you’re ready good doctor.”

Nomusa repaired Leere's side wounds and her broken leg with ease. The process took several minutes of flesh mending itself together and bone reforming to its usual shape. There was, of course, pressure upon the areas. It felt like someone was putting too much weight on the princess' body. Though, once Nomusa was done, there was not even a scar left from the horrific injuries. It was oddly similar to Bonegrinder's healing magic, or Leere’s own blood magic, though not as dark as the latter.

"Is there pain anywhere else?"

“No. You heal with the care of a blood practitioner. Thank you.” Leere didn’t think a headache counted as pain.

"You do need to eat, hydrate, and rest. I would recommend that you do no strenuous activity for the next few days." Nomusa gently helped Leere into a sitting position. "Do you think you can walk?"

“I can try?” Leere took a few deep breaths, psyching herself up to stand. “This mean no running, fighting or sex for a while?”

"No running, no fighting, no sexual activities, you know how it goes." Nomusa offered a hand to Leere to help her stand. "And make sure you eat meat high in iron for the couple of days to replace what you lost in blood."

“I’d love that.” Leere steadied herself with Nosuma, walking her way across the room. “You know, I actually know your older sisters.”

"Yes, Mother told me you are acquainted very intimately with them." Nomusa grinned. "They have a weakness for females with very large... milk glands."

Leere felt so incredibly small and flustered at the drop of that comment. “My milk glands? ... wow, no ones called me out in that term...”

"Aww, look at that, my sisters were right! You do blush so red with your fair skin." Nomusa giggled in amusement. "In all the times they talked to me, they mentioned how much they adored you. Their 'tiny human princess with the big milk glands'. They brag about how loud they made you moan. Oh! And that you had the best jiggle of an ass anyone had ever seen."

A switch flipped in Leere that took her beyond simple embarrassment. “That’s- I don’t- young lady that is not appropriate of your sisters to boldly talk about me that way.” Leere was mortified that they’d share such intimate knowledge of her.

"...? Why?" Nomusa blinked all eight of her eyes. "We Echidans always speak of intimate issues. It is a beautiful thing! It is how life is formed, how we express our love and lust for one another. It is nothing to be ashamed of! To be the highlight of your partner's sex life is always wonderful!"

Leere’s emotions flared up, her minds racing and disgusted that her trust in the sisters would be abused in her eyes. “You don’t brag about that kind of thing! Not without their consent. Holy gods. They make me sound like a conquest instead of a lover.”

"Conquest? Never! They absolutely adore you." Nomusa said with affirmation. "They always speak highly of you as well. Is this not a thing that Hylians do?"

“Only when they want to be assholes who want to colour someone as a slut. Sex is a modest, personal, and wonderful thing regardless if it comes from lust or love. You should keep what you do between the partners. If you want to know if I moan or have a spankable ass, you can have sex with me yourself to find out. Shame on Blue and White. God damn them! How could they do that to me?”

"Oh... I'm... I apologize, I'm sure they didn't mean anything by it." Nomusa actually looked a bit frantic, thinking she had ruined her sisters' relationship with the pretty human. "Please don't think badly of them, it is normal for them to brag about their lover. The prettier, the louder, the better they are to please their lover." She then paused and said. "If you weren't recovering, I'd take you up on that offer. But you must rest first."

Leere was incredibly miffed, with her sarcasm pouring out bitterly. “Oh, so I’m just pretty and loud to them. Great to know.”

She hobbled down to some earth in the ground, putting her hand to the dirt. She tried to sense where her Dead Hand was. Feeling it out, she felt a very weak presence. Must have been critically injured by the demons. Perhaps even other Echidans.

"No, no, that's not what I meant at all... goodness, I'm not the best with human affairs. Maybe I ought to let Bonegrinder explain it." Nomusa ran her hands down her face. "My sisters adore you because you're not afraid of them, and that you treat them... normally. Most humans scream and run when they see us."

“So, I respect them but they can’t respect me? Why wouldn’t I treat them normally? They couldn’t think the same of me?” Leere focused more on all the dead bodies still on the battlefield in the distance. There souls had since moved on. Shame. Terrible shame she couldn’t help these victims. “Where’s Mother, Nomusa?”

"Of course they respect you, they just... goodness, cultural norms for humans and Echidans are so different. Please don't be angry at them, I'll be sure to tell them to stop speaking of their nocturnal activities pertaining to you." Nomusa apologized to the human. "Mother is watching over Modoc. The one you know as Bonegrinder. She's in her nest."

“I’ll let her attend to him.” Looking up to Nomusa, she raised her brow. Leere shouldn’t direct her anger at the young Kokyangwuti. While it still festered, the necromancer thought of a subject change to bury that anger for now. “How old are you Nomusa?”

"How old I am? I'm 271 years. So... I guess in human years, that would be around... well... an old person," Nomusa sheepishly admitted. "But here, I guess it's the human equivalent to a teenager."

“Is that so? Why didn’t you travel with your older sisters?”

"Our father, Kiume, is getting older in years. I worry for him, and I have found a mate here. Potential mate, really." Nomusa explained to Leere. "I really had no desire to leave home. I'm happy here."

“Potential? You have a crush?”

"Let's just say that my father wants him to prove himself a little." Nomusa shrugged lightly. "I am the youngest, so he's pretty protective of me."

“You have a lover before?”

"Lovers? Yes. One I was interested in being mated to? Not really." Nomusa sighed, almost dreamily. "Until Gebhuza... he has the biggest muscles and is so fast, and spins such lovely webs. He even brings me fresh kills so I can feast on the blood. His dick is awfully nice---oops, sorry, I forgot human didn't like to talk about that."

Last thing Leere wanted to think about was monster dick at the moment. “Right… If you love him though, why offer your bedside to me?”

"Echidnans are not monogamous unless specified." Nomusa told Leere. "Gebhuza has had many lovers before too. If he desires me as a mate, then yes, I will only breed with him. Though sometimes, we cannot resist a good foursome. It's more fun for all the parties involved. My sisters used to share lovers all the time."

“I know a thing about that.” Echidnans were so wild. The cute arachnid wasn’t too tall, so to appease her own curiosity, Leere cupped Nomusa’s cheeks, giving her a sudden and deep kiss. Another truth was she was festering an anger at Blue and White for not keeping their threesomes and orgies to themselves, and wanted to get back by tasting the youngest sister. Once again, she was a fuel source of lust to monsters with her touch. “That means you’re ok with something like that?”

Nomusa purred. Loudly.

"Yes, very much so." She then returned the affection with a kiss of her own, sliding her tongue over Leere's. "You know, some of kind make such lovely aphrodisiacs... if you ever want to try one."

“I might. Too bad you said that sex is off the table for now. You should know I AM the aphrodisiac.” God, that tongue was so thick. With a light teasing purr herself, Leere sat herself down on a bench. Maybe she’d fool around, maybe she wouldn’t. Either way, it was magnificent kiss.

"Yes, sex is off the table until you recover." Nomusa reminded Leere. "At least for three days. You need time for your body to recover for the blood loss. I can heal you, but replacing blood is very tricky."

“Well, I suppose it would be humane to wait and not rely on sacrifice to restore my energy.” Leere chuckled, putting one leg over the other. “Don’t know how much longer we’ll be staying in Omisha for.”

"If you are staying for a few more days, I'd be happy to show you around---!!!" Nomusa heard yelling from the other private infirmary room. With a deep sigh, she told Leere. "Excuse me, one moment..." She skittered off in the direction and yelled. "Zubeka! What did I tell you about trying to undress the human male?!"

"I'm trying to get him to take off his armor so I can inspect his body for injuries!" Zubeka was a Kokyangwuti like Nomusa, but absolutely huge. She resembled that of a tarantula. "He's being stubborn!"

Malik happened to be sitting for an update on Leere, when the large arachnid insisted and, out of no where, tried to disrobe him out of his bloody armour. For her efforts, she had one of her hands twisted, having only taken a single gauntlet from him. “Touch me again and I’ll see to that your Matriarch finds out you tried to handle me on your own without my permission. Or I tear the hand off if you find that less dangerous.”

"Mother told me to check on you, you stubborn little brat!" Zubeka was certainly more outspoken than Nomusa or her twin sisters for that matter. "Hmph. He needs a spanking."

"He's not one of your cocoonlings, Zu."

"Still! He has no manners!"

"Just politely ask him to take off his armor and then he might listen---"

"Are you kidding me? Males never listen, they're all hardheaded."

"Good goddesses, I'll do it then." Nomusa approached Malik with a slight bow. "I apologize for the misunderstanding, Malik. Mother is simply worried for your well being. Might I examine you?"

“I’m over five-hundred years old you fat Skulltala.” Malik shifted his gaze to the younger doctor. “I have no sustained injuries. The most I took was being thrown into some rubble. You may not examine me. Focus on the princess that I brought here.”

"See? Ought to be his ass into the ground." Zubeka huffed with crossed arms.

"And wash his mouth out with ghost peppers."

"Leere is all well, she is fully healed. She only requires rest." Nomusa was going to try to mull the situation over as best she could. "Please, Malik, I do not understand the concept of human modesty, but I do know that if you do not allow me or Zubeka to examine you, Mother herself will do so. I only ask that you allow us to carry out our orders. I will not even lay a leg on you, just merely allow me to look to ascertain there is no internal bleeding."

As a point of defiance, he grabbed a blue potion from his pocket. He lifted his helmet up just enough to pour the contents down his throat. He left out a long, content sigh, his body being physically and magically healed. “I’ve never felt better. Thank you doctor for looking after Leere.”

"... a healing potion? Against demonic magic? Girl, this one done knocked himself silly," Zubeka scoffed. "He a fool if he thinks that will help. Come get me if he starts convulsing." With that, the larger spider-woman tapped off into the hallway.

"Good goddesses help me..." Nomusa sighed in irritation. "Very well. Mother will do this one herself. You may go see the princess now if you wish it."

“Good.” Malik made his way down to Leere, grabbing a few more potions. “She fixed your bones and internal bleeding?”

“Yes. What was the yelling for?”

He handed her two more potions, one red and one green. “Take a health and stamina potion. This should shave off your waiting time. We’re going to see Bonegrinder.”

The princess did so, feeling like she could walk briskly now. She was still in a sour mood from the battle and the breach of trust she felt. “I unsure if he’ll want to see us.”

“We have matters to discuss. Let’s go.”

Back at the temple, Mother was on her throne, magic sprawled across the air in front of her. She was making sure to reinforce the barrier, stretching it over Omisha's border once more. Now, it kept not only Malus separate, but most of Al-Daida as well. This was a difficult task, and one which required much energy. Yet, if it kept her children safe, she would see to it every single day. When Malik and Leere entered the room, she was pleased to see both of them were up and without pain. Yet, she did not smell healing magic on Malik. "... hm... did Zubeka nor Nomusa check you for injuries, Malik?" Mother waved away the magical particles and approached the pair. "Demonic magic, even if not a direct hit, can still effect a living being in a negative manner."

Malik bowed his head respectfully. “They would have found a trace of demonic presence they could never remove. I deemed it best to not worry them since I lacked injuries. My concern was for the princess.”

"Nevertheless, you will allow my healers to at least inspect you the next time there is a possibility of injury. Is that clear?" Mother's voice held no room for argument. "I will not have an ambassador of Hyrule dying on my doorstep because of his ego. Do you understand, Lord Malik?"

Malik bowed his head once again. “Understood.”

With that matter sorted, he looked up to Mother, a more serious aura felt around him. “What in blazes is Bonegrinder. He held the same magic as Teufel.”

"Bonegrinder is an Anagari and is not only that. He is more. This knowledge will not leave this Temple, Malik and Leere. It is critical to keep under wraps until the time is right... however much more time we may have on this earth." Mother used her magic to display a figure of the brother gods, Maker and Destroyer. "He is a deity bound in flesh form. Yet, his mind is scrambled. Between his life as a god and his life as an Anagari, he cannot process the two at the same time. Thus, accounting for random bursts of magic, visions, and confusion."

“He’s another god. Yet one that’s failed in bonding with a mortal.” Malik found this information highly intriguing. “Do you think he’s a threat to any of us?”

"Modoc... Bonegrinder, is the host. The memories did not even resurface until an attack hundreds of years ago." Mother frowned. "It was not supposed to happen then. His memories were supposed to return at a later time, but the recesses of Modoc's mind cracked when he spiraled into insanity, thus allowing his true nature, the deity to leak through." She paused when Malik asked if she thought the Anagari was a threat. "Why? Do you believe him to be dangerous?"

“I know he’s dangerous. I’m asking if you think he’s a threat to our realm.”

"No." Mother answered Malik. "But I sense you do not believe the same."

“I’m wise enough to know that gods, meaning to or not, bring destruction and death to life. Either he be passive or bloodthirsty will remain to be seen.”

"Perhaps so. Perhaps not. Only time will tell." Mother then said. "Modoc is still recovering from battle. You will have to speak to him later when he is conscious."

"Believe me, I will. Given that we do not know what time we have, I will start to build my forces in Hyrule to contend against Teufel or whatever God deems that they can destroy our world. Mother, as Lord of Hyrule, I ask for a change in our partnership. I am the only one who understands the length of Teufel's danger. Not only that, but I don't believe King Covarog or Queen Zarazu will ever be ready in dealing directly with you. I wish that you come directly to me with matters that concern the relationship of Omisha and Hyrule."

Leere glanced to Malik, caught completely off guard that he'd throw her brother and sister-in-law under the bridge like that. "What?"

"I have been a monster myself. I understand us. I can easily believe that given your mannerisms and presence, the King and Queen would not be able to maturely handle negotiating with you in person. They are jaded to monsters given their experiences with Vul'kar and his Abyssians. The King has always been cautious in dealing with outside nations. With this said, I believe that until one of their children can take the throne with clear, fresh eyes, I should reign as Hyrule's head negotiator for Omisha. Is this acceptable to you?"

"Hrm... I have heard the Queen of Lorleidians is less hotheaded than her husband, though I have heard rumors of the king being... biased." Mother tapped her claws on her throne's arm, thinking. It was a bit of a predicament, what Malik was suggesting. Keeping this alliance in the dark from the leaders of Hyrule was a risky tactic. One day, the nation would be a key player in the battle against Chaos. "You truly deem her unable to discuss such matters with me?"

“I do. She’s kind, but I suspect she’d be fearful of your appearance.”

"Of me? When she has a dragon at her side?" Mother thought this was odd. "It always struck me that dragons were the more fearsome creatures... then again, she is probably used to the dragons."

“I think she’d see you more akin to Vul’kar than one of her... children.” It took all his control to not call Ba’puu and his kin pests.

"And Leere? What do you think of Malik's suggestion?" Mother wanted to know her opinion.

Leere stared at Malik in a bit of disbelief. “What power grab are you trying to make here? Where’s your loyalty to my brother?”

“This fight that will happen will not be Covarog’s or Zarazu’s. Their destinies were fulfilled in stopping Vul’kar. I foresee it will be an oldest and youngest generation who will need to take up arms.”

"That is partly true, Malik... it will be their eldest daughter who will be pivotal in the future to help fight against Chaos." Mother then gestured to the lord. "And it will be your duty to ensure she is safe as well as trained. She will have to know how to fight."

“The Gerudo Queen will be ready when her time comes. Until then, I ask you deal directly with me.”

"Do you trust this plan, Leere?"

“...as I’ve said before, I trust Malik to do his duty.” To be honest, Leere wasn’t sure what Malik was scheming. Was he intent on taking the throne? This new light of information made the necromancer’s views on the Gerudo shift uncomfortably.

"Very well... though before we go on with the discussion of the future, there is one issue I'd like to remark upon," Mother then narrowed her eyes at Leere. "What was my one explicit command of you whilst you were in Omisha?"

“Pardon?” Leere was taken by surprise once again, with the conversation being shifted to her. “To be the most respectful and to not use necrotic magic on your dead.”

"On the dead. That translate to no necromancy at all." Mother looked very disappointed, and sounded as if she were scolding a child. "You are very lucky that my children did not perceive you in alliance with the Mortuus girl who came through here wrecking havoc."

“Are you speaking of my Dead Hand? It’s a conjuration construct that happens to be undead. I used it to help even the odds against those demons. I didn’t raise any fresh bodies to fight our enemies.” Leere looked visibly worried she crossed a line too far. However, another thought of hers was wondering why Mother couldn’t trust her to keep herself in control. “I acted in the moment.”

"Acting in the moment can be very dangerous in these parts, Leere. The reason I forbade your type of magic is due to the unease of my children." Mother told the princess. "What if one of them had reacted and cut you down? Mistaking you for an enemy? I would not have been able to stop their action in time."

The thought being the victim of friendly fire only made Leere’s anger spike. “My magic isn’t evil Mother. I’m not evil.”

"I know that. But do you think all of my children believe that?" Mother had to poke a hole in her logic. "Hylians once deemed all Gerudo evil. Danjurans believe all sea serpents are evil. Labrynnas believe dragons to be evil. Do you understand what I am telling you?"

“You’re all ignorant then?!” Leere didn’t realize she was standing defiantly until the bones in her back popped straight. “I saw an evil woman of my people. But you know what, there’s going to be good and evil found on all sides! Maybe I can be what teaches your people to not fear such magic. What’s going to happen instead; you put a barrier around all of Omisha?” Leere wasn’t standing down, and Malik wasn’t stopping her. “I saw a threat to your people and I did what I felt I needed to do to protect your people! To protect children like Solani!”

"We are not ignorant, Leere, we are cautious. You have not yet suffered at the hands of a Mortuus. My children have." Mother glared at the princess. "I need not tell you of Zarazu's battle with Vul'kar. If an Abyssian showed up on her doorstep, proclaiming to be innocent, do you not think she would be wary? This is to protect you, young princess. Do not make the mistake of using such magic again. The last thing I want is for you body to be buried here instead of at home with your family due to a case of mistaking you for an enemy." She then added, "And it's not just you, Leere. Malik is a human. My children are even wary of them, just like humans are wary of us. Your magic will not save you from an Echidnan who wishes you dead. I want you safe from harm here, yet you must do your part to be cautious as well. Do you understand?"

“That’s a load of shit.” Leere pointed at herself, her emotions reaving up now that her emotion wall was breaking down. How dare anyone tell her that she didn’t know suffering, or that they knew what was best for her. All the disrespect she felt finally was verbalized. “I was sexually violated by a Hylian as fucking child. You don’t think I don’t worry about Hylians? Worry about men in general? For someone who dabbles in darkness, I don’t slink away in my shadows. I’ve suffered, but I make the choice to see there are innocents among Hyrule. People that I can love. Apparently, unlike you and your people, I’m not a goddamn coward who lets my fears of others get the better of me! I wasn’t raised to be constantly in fear and needing to look over my shoulders. I look at the kids here and I see their curiosity, only for them to be spirited away before I have the chance to really breakthrough to them. Now maybe you might have a point, with what you see as enemies on all sides, but all you teach your people is fear when you can’t even give them a chance to build positive relationships with people like me. People who want to share hope! If they see a friend as an enemy due to their ignorance, then you’re all doomed to be isolated and alone!”

She stabbed a finger towards Mother, more fury directed directly to her. “You want to protect me? How about you stop lying to me first! I know for damn certain that you didn’t find that Mortuus three-hundred years ago. The kingdom of Lorleidi is older than that! You think lying to me makes me feel protected? All it tells me is that I can’t trust you! And how dare any of you assume I need protection! I’m choose to stand my ground against people who’d use darkness for insidious purposes. I would gladly lay down my life to protect you, Malik, Bonegrinder, my family, or even another Mortuus who’s innocent or good willed! So yes, if an Abyssisn came to Zarazu with good intentions I’d hold her to give them a chance! Meeting this Dio has also taught me one thing! If there are Mortuus who have been suffering for centuries, then they should have been saved long ago! How- how dare you! You should have reached out long ago to others who’d help! There have always been those throughout history who would never turn a blind eye to suffering, so don’t you lie to me that you couldn’t! find help for your people!”

Her breathing was getting ragged. God, when did she start crying? “I’m so sick of others thinking they can hand wave a whole culture as one thing. I’m so sick of them pretending they’re all alone with their own issues. If you honestly think that your people can’t accept me as a friend, that all Mortuus are evil, then perhaps Bonegrinder and the others were right. Maybe there was nothing of value to learn in Omisha! I don’t care about Malik’s stupid power grab to have allies. I came here to learn about your culture! To learn about Malus. You want to know my take away so far? The country of Malus is full of suffering, and god knows how long it’s been allowed to stew that way. What take away should I take from Omisha Mother!? What should I go back to Hyrule knowing? That little Solani can make friends with humans? Or that she’ll just continue to hold onto fear and share that into the next generation?”

"... are you done?" Mother did not look amused. She'd allow the princess her little outburst. Human emotions were volatile. "Or do you have more to say?"

No where. Leere felt that she suddenly wasn’t going to get anywhere with the matriarch. “I’m done.” Leere’s eyes were puffy as she silently calmed down.

"You have your view, I have mine. I must do what I think is best for my people." Mother told Leere sternly, not allowing her mind to be swayed. "After my people are comfortable with you, then I will consider usage of your magic. Trust is built very carefully and sometimes takes a long while to earn, princess. Not in one visit." She then added, "I will not reach out to help a country and risk the lives of my children when said country has had part in the demise of mine for so long. If there are innocents out there like the one Mortuus who met an untimely death in my borders, then I will consider it. But I cannot, will not, take the risk on a 'what if'. I need evidence. I need an attempt to make peace. And thus far, that has not been done, Leere." Mother was older and wiser than Leere or Malik and knew how to handle such delicate matters. "What you should take away from Omisha is what humans deem of us and what we deem of humans is not necessarily true in all circles. We Echidnans are a peaceful race... unless provoked."

“I didn’t use my magic in your land, until I was provoked.” Leere bowed her head low.

"True, yet, I asked you not to use it. There are others ways to fight than to relay on magic." Mother then told the princess, without room for argument. "For your safety, do not use it here in Omisha."

“I can’t do that if it means the death of one of your people.” Leere shook her head. “I can strain myself to use other resources, but I can’t let an innocent die if it means I didn’t give it my all.” This didn’t even include her own self-preservation.

"Then you understand that I will not be held responsible if one of my children attacks you out of fear?"

“I’d welcome it if it meant changing their viewpoint.”

"Hmm... this matter will be discussed at a later point when I have had time to address all of my children." Mother still did not look too pleased with the princess' outburst. Just because she had her opinion did not mean it was right. Then again, Mother knew that even she could be wrong. Yet, she could not risk it right now. There was too much at stake. "Malik... you had other questions concerning the future?"

Malik glared furiously at Leere. Even if she was right, there was a time and place. The Necromancer might have shattered his careful planning. “Is Bonegrinder awake?”

"No, he is not." Mother shook her head. "He is very unstable right now and in quite some pain."

“Then we will wait until he is awake and well. Please call for us if you desire anything.”

"For now, waiting is all we can do." Mother sighed, looking weary. "Malik do see that Leere is properly rested. The incidents have definitely caused a shock to her system. Do obtain some rest yourself. Do you need an escort back to the huts?"

“Shock? I’d think you’d be the last to accuse someone of hysteria.” Leere was so close to flipping Mother the bird and snapping at her further. Instead, she stormed off back to the hut to sleep the rest of the day off.

"... Malik." Mother turned her focus to the young lord. "Leere allows her emotions to rule her. This kind of incident cannot happen again."

The Gerudo Lord frowned behind his helmet. “What do you expect me to do?”

"I expect you to caution the princess of her behavior. If she cannot handle her emotions, then I will find another diplomat from Hyrule who can who hails from the royal family." Mother warned Malik. "While I trust you to handle these affairs, I will speak to Ralnor if need be. He is the only other one in the family who knows of our existence here."

“You cannot trust Ralnor. If anything, you can take from her outburst as a sign you can trust her the most.”

"... I will contemplate upon your words."

Ralnor was the last person Malik wanted to work with. The Prince would no doubt ruin his own plans for the future. “She wears her heart on her sleeve openly for all to see. Leere will respect your wishes, trust me. The princess simply felt hurt that you would not trust her abilities. What’s more... she cares about your people. I doubt Ralnor has the heart for that.”

"I believe Modoc's words that Leere is trustworthy, but I must see it for myself, as you must do the same with me. Trust will not be earned overnight, Malik. This you know all too well." Mother then rose from her throne. "I will go to check on Modoc. I do not know how long it will be until he is recovered."

“I’m certain that you will have it in no time.” Malik said his polite goodbyes and returned to the hut to find Leere head down as she sat in a seat.

“You must hate me. I can understand if you do. Was stupid of me to speak my mind like that to her. Jeopardized too much for Hyrule.”

A silence filled the room, leaving Malik unsure how to reply. He raised an arm, pausing behind her. Despite the potential to ruin his relationship with Mother, Malik couldn’t help be impressed in retrospect at her courage to speak up her frustrations. Content on his choice, he laid a hand on her shoulder. “You spoke what you felt was right. You spoke from your soul. You were very brave Leere.”

The princess looked to him, a heavy weight leaving her my mind. All it took was one person to believe in her. “Thank you, Malik.”

The Gerudo wasn’t the best at human interaction on a healing level, at least not with those he didn’t consider close family or soldiers under his command. “Perhaps we should rest.”

Leere sensed his small worry. Grasping his hand, she smoothly assured him he was fine. “Yes... I think that’d be nice. Sleep well Malik.”

________________________________________________________________

Previous Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/190819547466/into-the-darkness-and-unknown-ch-5-a-blink-into

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[winterisakillerwrites]

Love & Great Buildings - Chapter Seven

Chapter: 7/19

Character/Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Rosemary Mathews (OFC)

Genre: Romance/Angst

Summary: Three years have passed and a chance encounter brings Tom and Rosie together again. Can time make any difference or are they doomed to repeat their mistakes.

Rating: M

Author’s Notes/Warnings:  This is part nine of Last Minutes & Lost Evenings. Many thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff​ for listening to me ramble incessantly about  this story and being a sounding board when I needed it. You are a lifesaver, even if your stories break my heart.

Previous

CHAPTER SEVEN

  An exasperated sigh fell from Rosemary’s lips. It was barely noon and already she wanted to ram her head into a wall. This paperwork will be the bloody death of me. She rolled her neck, grimacing at the crack that action released. She was far, far too tense. Another hour, she reasoned. If I can make it another hour and then I can walk away for a bit. She nearly jumped out of her skin as her phone buzzed suddenly to life on the edge of her desk. Absently she reached for it and couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face as the familiar name flashed on the screen. With a shake of her head, she swiped to answer the call. “Tom.”

 His warm laughter filled her ear and pulled another smile to her face. “Rosie, darling, how are you?”

 “Lay off the charm, Hiddleston,” she joked, rubbing the back of her neck absently with her free hand. “Now to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

 Another warm laugh. God did he have any idea the chaos he could unleash with that laugh? She shook her head trying to clear that errant thought away.

 “Gods, you do wonders for my ego.”

 Rosemary smirked, “I do my best.”

 It had been two weeks since she and Tom had shared Chinese take-away in her small flat. The conversation that first night had been slightly stilted after the emotional levity of the hour before, but it was still infinitely better than she could have hoped. And, in all honesty, than she had expected. It was still nowhere near the ease they had shared in years past, both too much and yet too little time had passed for that to occur once more. But it had been a start and for that she’d been grateful.

 Tom hadn’t lingered long after they’d finished their meal, thanking her profusely for both the food and her time. He’d hesitated briefly at the door as she’d walked him out before leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek. She’d stood frozen, butterflies rioting in her chest as he wish her a pleasant evening and closed the door behind him.

 And over those two weeks they had spoken often, mostly by phone though they had occasionally met at various cafés for coffee. Things were simple and unhurried between them. No pressures just the slow process of getting to know each other once more. And for that she’d been incredibly grateful.

 She had been adamant with herself that this time she wouldn’t throw herself blindly into him, into them. They had rushed headlong into their doomed affair without a second thought, and in doing so, had both paid the price. She could not, would not, do that again.

 “…So what do you think?”

 Rosemary shook her head violently, forcing herself back into the present, and realized she’d missed nearly everything he’d said. “I’m sorry, Tom, what?”

 Tom’s chuckle echoed in her ear, “I was asking if you were possibly free for lunch today.”

 She paused, weighing her answer. They had made great leaps in such a short time and she very much wanted to see him. They had met several times for coffee but hadn’t shared a meal since that first night.

 The knock on the doorframe was so soft that at first Rosemary hadn’t been sure she’d heard it. But then it sounded again. Her head jerked up. Jules stood silently in the doorway, a rueful smile spread across her features. She started slightly at the sight before silently waving Jules into the office.

 “Can I take a raincheck on that lunch?”

 She heard a shuffling from Tom’s end. “Sure,” She wondered briefly if the disappointment she heard in his voice was of her own invention or actually there, but quickly brushed the thought off.  “Just let me know when?”

 “I will. Talk later?” She let her own hope color her words, refusing to think further into why that troubled her.

 His warm laughed echoed again in her ear. “Alright, darling. Speak soon.”

 Rosemary let out a small sigh and placed the phone back onto her desk. She turned her attention towards Jules’ uneasy form. She’d walked into the office at Rosemary’s insistence but remained hovering near the doorway. “What can I help you with, Jules?” The unease on Jules’ face unnerved her and a sudden fear bubbled through Rosemary. “Is everything alright with Ingrid and the baby?”

 This seemed to calm Jules slightly and she relaxed her shoulders, walking towards the desk and settling into the chair across. “Yes, she and the little one, she had a boy, did I not tell you?, are fine. She was discharged last week. The baby, David he’s called, is still in NICU but Frank says the doctors think he should be ready to come home in another week or so if his lungs keep developing at the rate they are. So all good there.”

 Rosemary smiled, reaching out to grasp Jules hand and squeeze it gently. “That’s fantastic, I’m so glad everything is well with them.”

 Jules offered her a genuine smile. “Me too.”

 Silence fell between them once again.

 “Is everything alright with the shop? Please tell me that Jordan isn’t completely messing up the shipments…again.”

 Jules laughed, shaking her head. “No more than usual. Everything is fine, Evan’s holding up far better than I expected him to. He may be worth his salt after all.” Both women chuckled. “Online orders are holding well too. And things are good here?”

 Rosemary nodded. “Yeah, Hanna is well worth her weight in gold.” She paused, smiling. “The shop here is doing far better than I hoped it would.”

 “I’m so glad. I know Stories has been your baby for a long time now. You’re doing Agnes and Henry proud, you know.” She offered Rosemary a warm smile.

 Stories Untold had been a small but well maintained bookshop under Agnes and Henry Goode, something they had started after retirement to keep each other occupied and to fulfill a childhood dream of Agnes’.  Both Rosemary and Jules had been two of the first people hired on. They had watched the shop grow and when Agnes’ health had gotten too poorly for her or Henry to continue with its upkeep, Rosemary had jumped at the chance to take the shop under her own wing with their blessing. It had been a challenge and one she’d frequently feared she’d ultimately fail at. Jules had been beside her through the thick and thin. Having her support and her belief had meant the world.

 “I hope so.”

 Jules took a deep breath, seeming to come to a decision. “I’m sorry.”

 Taken aback, Rosemary stared at the woman sitting before her.

 When she didn’t respond, Jules carried on, “I know you’ve been angry with me and things haven’t been right between us, not since that last lunch…Or well since the morning after our quest to drink greater London out of wine,” She laughed nervously and ran a hand through her hair, “Anyway, I miss my friend. And I want to try to mend this.”

 Rosemary did not speak for several minutes, staring first at the desk before her then at her hands. Jules was undoubtedly one of her closest friends and the strain between them had been a difficult burden to bear. Most of the anger she’d felt had faded, more of tiny flame than the raging inferno, but there was still an unease between them that unsettled her. She had always trusted Jules’ judgement, as opinionated as her friend was Jules usually saw things with a level head. And while she could understand Jules’ hesitance in trusting Tom and his motives, Rosemary found it difficult to reconcile. “I miss you too,” she finally spoke, raising her eyes to Jules. “And I know I’ve not been the easiest person to deal with; taking my anger out on you was unnecessary and not at all fair. But can you understand why?”

 Jules nodded slowly, “I don’t like Tom. You know that, not after what he did. He didn’t see the mess he left, I did. And I know how you were with him and I couldn’t bear to see you hurt again. You are as good as a sister to me, Rose, and it kills me to see you hurt. But I pushed too far and, drunk or not, I shouldn’t have done what I did. I’m sorry for that. Really I am.”

 “No you shouldn’t have.” Her tone was harsher than she had intended. She shook her head briefly and carried on. “But I do understand. At least partially. You care. You are the closest thing I have to a sister as well. But Jules, I am an adult. I can make my own choices as to what I can and cannot handle. And if I fall flat then that is on me. Trust that given time I can pull myself up and dust myself off and move on.”  

 Jules smiled softly at Rosemary and nodded. She was silent for several moments before locking her eyes on Rosemary and asking, “Are we okay?”

 Rosemary shrugged. “We’re friends, that hasn’t changed. But I’m still…I understand why you pushed, but it doesn’t mean that I’m fully sure I can completely forgive you for doing so.” She paused, reaching her hand out towards Jules’ and grasping it firmly in hers. “But I don’t want to be angry with you anymore. It’s not solving anything. I just need you to trust me and my own judgement. Please.”

 Squeezing her hand in return, Jules chuckled and then nodded, “I can’t guarantee I won’t make a right mess of it, but I can try.”

 “That’s all I ask.”

 “So,” Jules started, her eyes glancing briefly at the phone then back towards her friend, “who’s the raincheck on?”

 Rosemary smiled softly, knowing that this would certainly put their new found truce to the test. In for a penny…She straightened in her seat, resting her elbows neatly on the desk, her hands folded before her. “Tom.”

 She could see Jules slight start at the name. “Oh. So you patched things up?” The concern and hesitancy in her voice was clear as was the fact that she was holding back.

 “We’re trying,” Rosemary answered honestly. She shrugged. “We’ve been talking off and on for the last few weeks or so. It’s been…” she struggled to find a suitable word, “honestly really nice.”

 Jules nodded but did not speak. Rosemary could see the wheels turning in her head. The silent ‘are you sure this is a good idea’ that screamed in her eyes. “So,” she started, leaning her hands on her thighs, “how did this happen?”

 Rosemary let out a soft sigh, “He came by my flat. He apologized, I apologized. We talked, we were honest with each other.” She paused, shrugging lightly. It was nice to talk about Tom to someone. Even if Jules appeared dubious, at least she’d told someone. “He is a friend, or at least I want him to be. I missed him, Jules. Missed being able to talk to him. Can you understand that?”

 “I don’t know, Rose. Really I don’t…I want to trust that you know what you are doing because usually you do. You are one of the most level headed people I know, but with him…You’re a smart woman…Just be careful, okay. Don’t let him talk you into something you aren’t ready for. Please just try to keep your head.” Jules held up her hand at Rosemary’s stuttered protests. “You are my friend and I worry, but you are more than capable of making your own decisions and knowing what you want. Just make sure you think it through.” She smiled warmly at Rosemary, her hands resting in her lap. “That’s all I’m going to say.”

“Somehow I doubt that.” Rosemary sighed, “I understand what you are saying, Jules. But it’s my life, my choice. He is my friend. That is all, I’m not going to make that same mistake again. You need to trust me and trust that I can learn from the past.”

 “Okay. Okay.” Jules pushed herself up from the chair and looked knowingly at her friend. “I was going to head out to grab a bite before heading back to the shop. You interested?”

 Rosemary smiled softly in return. “Any chance of a change in venue?”

 She watched Jules’ red brow quirk and a wicked grin spread across her face. “From our usual? Perish the thought!”

 With a roll of her eyes, Rosemary stood and beckoned her friend. “Come on then.”

                                                       —

  “So sorry it’s taken me so long to ring back.” Rosemary settled herself onto her couch, trying to suppress a groan. Lunch with Jules had been nice, still a bit tense round the edges, but nice all the same. She’d missed her friend and being able to start to mend that bridge had taken a weight off her mind. There was still a ways for them to go, but for now she had her friend back.

 The rest of the day had been relatively uneventful, frustrating mounds of paperwork notwithstanding; Hanna had been taking on more and more of the daily routines and was now practically starting to run the shop on her own. She would give it another week or so before she began to transition back to the original location and then flit back and forth as needed. It was almost bittersweet.

 “Darling, that is quite alright.” His voice was warm in her ear and she fought the urge to groan again. “Busy day, I take it?”

 Rosemary nodded and when it dawned on her that he could not, in fact, see her response answered, “Yes. The shop’s doing well. Both are actually.” She laughed softly. “I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, you know?” She sat fully upright, frowning as her stomach gave a grumble of protest. It had been several hours since lunch, something her body was obviously not pleased about. Alright then let’s see what we’ve got to work with. She pushed herself to her feet and stumbled into the kitchen.

 “I do,” Tom answered. She could hear the smile in his voice. “But I seriously doubt that it will happen. You have a good head on your shoulders and from what you’ve told me you have good people working with and for you. I think you’ll be alright.”

 The fridge wasn’t as barren as she’d feared. ­Thank god for small miracles. Pulling out the container of Alfredo sauce she’d found, and cautiously sniffed just to be safe, Rosemary went in search of whatever pasta was to hand.

 Rosemary sighed as she pulled open the cabinet door. “I know, I know. But you know my mind sometimes.” Tom laughed at this, pulling smile to her face. She pulled down a box and studied it Spaghetti it is then. “I saw Jules today, we hadn’t had a chance to catch up in a while. So that was lovely.” Phone balanced precariously between her ear and shoulder, she carried her boon to the stovetop. She grabbed the pot sitting on the back burner and headed for the sink, quickly filling it. As she turned to make her way back towards the stove the phone slipped and fell with a clatter to the floor. “Shit!” She dropped the pot hastily on the stove and dove for her phone, mumbling curses under her breath. “So, so sorry. I am the worst sort of klutz,” she apologized. She hit the speaker function and placed the phone carefully onto the counter.

 “You quite alright there, Rosie?”

 Rosemary laughed, trying to cover her sudden flustering nervousness. “Yeah, I was just attempting to multi-task and failing horribly. Apparently I cannot handle talking on the phone and cooking at the same time. I kind of dropped you.”

 Tom laughed heartily. “Oh my dear, what am I ever going to do with you?”

 “God knows.” She set the pot to boil and headed back into the living room but not before grabbing a package of crisps. “I don’t even know what I’m going to do with me.” She ripped open the package and settled onto the couch. She popped a few of the crisps into her mouth, it wasn’t much but god she was starving.

 “So how is Jules? You’ve not spoken of her recently?”

 Rosemary sighed, resting her head back against the headrest of the couch. “She’s well. We had lunch today. It’s been awhile since…” She trailed off, rubbing her temples with her free hand. “We had a bit of a falling out a month or so back.”

 “Seriously?” The confusion was evident in his voice. “Over what?”

 She hesitated.

 “Rosie?” Tom urged. She could plainly hear the dawning knowledge in his voice and his need to hear her actually say it.

 A deep sigh fell from her lips, “You…Technically. She was drinking with me that night…She may or may not have been the catalyst for that stupid call.” She sat up more fully and rested her forehead against her upturned hand. “I was upset and angry with her for putting the damned idea in my head and for being so against me even talking to you…I told her off and we stopped talking about everything save the bloody shop.”

 “Oh Rosie…”

 “Don’t Tom.” Her voice was tighter than she’d intended. “It’s over. She and I will be fine. We always are. We’ve talked and I’ve made it clear that I am capable of making my own choices. So don’t worry about it.”

 A hissing from the kitchen snapped her attention back to the present. “Shit!” she shouted as she jumped from the couch and scrambled into the kitchen.

 “What?” Tom’s voice shouted in her ear. “What’s wrong?”

 Hitting the speaker button again, she placed the phone on the counter. “The blasted water is boiling over,” she hissed as she grabbed the pot and lifted it from the heat. Once the water settled, placed it back on the burner. She grabbed the package of spaghetti and emptid it into the pot.

 “Careful or you’ll burn the place down.”

 “Ha, bloody ha, Hiddleston. I can actually cook you know.” She stirred the pasta into the water and left it to return to a boil, setting the kitchen timer before walking back into the living room. “It’s not my fault I was distracted.”

 Tom laughed, “If you insist, darling.”

 “And if I do?” She queried, settling back onto the couch. He laughed again. “So Tom, about that rain check? Are you free tomorrow afternoon by any chance?”

 He groaned and she could clearly see him rubbing his temples with his hand. “I can’t.”

 She tried to stifle the initial wave of disappointment. “Oh...”

 “I have a lunch meeting with my manager tomorrow. But I’m free the day after. Would that be alright?”

 Rosemary smiled. “That would be perfect.”

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