#my inbox has officially been cleared sorry for making everyone wait so long...
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I just randomly came across your blog and seeing ichiruki and bakudeku shipper, I knew its a safe place lol. Anyway just wanted to say that pretty much. I can’t stand Ichigo and Orihime together it was just so eh and made me honestly stop investing in the manga. I couldn’t do it anymore. Rukia was right there. Right. There.
WOW! A BAKUDEKU AND ICHIRUKI SHIPPER!!!! I'm sorry... It's just that my mind is truly blown. I've never encountered anyone else who also ships both pairings before. Since both ships are in my top 3, I'm so happy! I honestly wish we had more safe spaces... Sometimes the fandom makes it so difficult for IchiRuki and/or BakuDeku shippers. Somehow I still find myself watching the new releases for the Bleach anime and continue to be somewhat active in the fandom—I honestly don't know where I get the strength to persist. I've come close to my breaking point many times, so I totally empathise with you.
Honestly, the series went from being in my top 3 to not even making my top 20. As frustrated as I am with the series' ending, I truly adore IchiRuki which is why I haven't wholly forsaken it. I like the series' pre-TYBW setting, power system, soundtrack, and world-building. I've never officially read the manga, so watching the TYBW arc has been a peculiar experience... Honestly, I've been finding it difficult to get invested in any of the new characters and plotlines it has introduced. Since I've made it this far, I'm going to finish off the anime. I won't be watching/reading any sequels and spinoffs though because I can't stand seeing Orihime and Ichigo together either...
#bakudeku and ichiruki deserved better!#my inbox has officially been cleared sorry for making everyone wait so long...#frostfire-asks#myasks#ichiruki#rukia x ichigo#ichigo x rukia#kurosaki ichigo x kuchiki rukia#ichigo kurosaki x rukia kuchiki#bleach anime#bleach#shipping discourse#anime ships#bakudeku#bkdk#katsudeku#bnha#mha#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#dynadeku#bakugo katsuki x midoriya izuku#bakugou x midoriya#midoriya x bakugou#midoriya izuku x bakugo katsuki#decchan
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Ficlet prompt: " I love the way you say my name' if it sparks joy/inspo
answering two in one cause this has been sitting in my inbox for so long i'm so sorry dear nonny i simply was brain empty
Anonymous asked: "Can I give you a hug? You look upset." For the 101 ways to say i love you prompt list <3
Buck feels numb.
His hands are still shaking, clenched tight in his lap as he tries to make sure no one notices. He’s in the locker room, more or less hiding. He doesn’t want anyone to see how deeply that affected him. He’s supposed to be able to just shake this stuff off.
He usually does.
Put it away and we save the next one.
Buck said that to Eddie once. He’s said it to himself countless times. But this time, it doesn’t work. His hands still shake, his breaths are still shaking, his throat is still tight, his eyes still sting with unshed tears. Because this time, all he could think was what do we tell her kids?
How do you tell a child that their parent is gone? How do you tell them that they’re never going to get another hug hello, another kiss goodnight, another story before bed?
Chim said to let the father do that. It hit Buck like a ton of bricks. Because when Eddie was in a similar position, Buck was the one to tell Chris. Not Pepa, not Abuela, not Bobby. Not family nor Eddie’s superiors. It was Buck.
Buck had to look Chris in the eyes and tell him that his father wasn’t coming home that night, that he might not come back at all. That he was hurt, that someone had hurt him on purpose. That he might not be okay. That he was a fighter. That they were trying to fix Eddie like they had fixed Buck.
Buck had to hold Chris as they both cried.
Buck had to stay with Chris while his real father recovered from a gunshot wound that in all likelihood should have been fatal.
No- Buck didn’t have to. He chose to. It wasn’t even conscious- it was just a given. Eddie was hurt and Buck was going to take care of Chris.
They’re gonna need their dad. That’s what Chim said. Those are the words ringing in Buck’s ears.
I need to talk to Christopher. It was Buck’s first thought once Eddie was out of his hands, literally.
It’s not like Buck’s never thought of it before; he acts like a second father to Chris. He’s sometimes even taken to thinking of the kid as his, too. Privately, of course. That’s not a boundary he wants to officially cross, not a line he wants to overstep. But still…
“Buck.” Bobby saying his name snaps Buck out of his thoughts and he looks up from his still-shaking hands, blinking a few times.
“Hey Cap, what’s up?” His voice is rougher, rawer than he’d like. He clears his throat and stands up, waiting for Bobby.
“I called Eddie to come pick you up.”
“What-? Cap, we still have an hour left-”
“Go home, Buckley,” Bobby says, his voice hard enough that Buck knows it’s not a suggestion. “You’re unfit for duty.”
“I’m fine, Bobby” Buck argues, feeling strangely panicked at the idea of going home to Chris with Eddie. It’s not his place. They’re not really his.
Bobby raises an eyebrow and looks pointedly at Buck’s shaking hands. Buck tightens his jaw and clenches them into fists. “We can manage, Buck. You need to go home.” Home meaning Eddie’s house. Buck tries to ignore how his chest warms.
“Cap-”
“It was a tough call for everyone, Buck,” Bobby says, softer now. He sets a hand on Buck’s shoulder and Buck blinks back tears. “But not all of us had to tell our partner’s kid that he wasn’t coming home less than a year ago.”
“It’s not the same,” Buck tries, but his argument is weak and his voice is cracking.
“No, it’s not. Those kids hadn’t already lost one parent.” Buck closes his eyes and lets his head drop. Bobby squeezes his shoulder gently. “Go home, son.”
“Thanks Bobby,” Buck whispers, his throat thick with tears and the words heavy on his tongue. Bobby squeezes his shoulder once more and then turns to leave. Buck doesn’t move for a few moments, trying to take deep, steadying breaths.
He’s not sure how much time passes until he feels stable enough to move, like the simple act of lifting his head won’t shatter him completely. He goes through the motions almost robotically, changing into civilian clothes and packing up his bag. He slips out of the firehouse without running into anyone else and has a sneaking suspicion that Bobby instructed them all to give him space.
Eddie’s outside already, parked in his truck and leaning back in the driver’s seat with his eyes closed. One hand is outside the window, tapping the body of the car along to whatever song he’s listening to. As Buck walks up, Eddie somehow senses him and opens his eyes, turning to offer a soft smile and little wave.
Buck forces a smile as he walks around the truck and tosses his bag in the back before hopping into the passenger seat.
“Hey,” Eddie greets. His eyes are already studying Buck, taking in everything then can and analyzing him from the inside out. “Heard you had a rough call.”
“Yeah,” Buck breathes, sinking back into the seat. “Yeah, we did.”
“Talk, listen, or neither?” It’s the system they’ve been using for a while- when one of them is struggling, they can either a) talk about it, b) listen to the other one talk, or c) simply exist together for a while.
“Neither, if that’s okay,” he answers quietly, closing his eyes. He doesn’t have the energy right now, just being with Eddie is enough. Eddie reaches over and squeezes his arm gently. Buck doesn’t have to look to know that he’s smiling gently, even if his eyes are a little sad.
“‘Course it’s alright.” Buck attempts at a smile, but he doubts it works. Eddie starts the car and turns up the radio. A woman is singing. It’s not a song Buck recognizes, nor a voice he knows. But the lyrics stab through him and he suddenly feels like he can’t breathe again.
Sure, every day's a chance to fight
Forever wrestling, trying to make amends again
The tone is upbeat, but the words cut him like a knife, baring him for the world to see. Hot tears burn behind his eyes and he turns his face, eyes still shut, away from Eddie. He lets himself get lost in the song and before he knows it, the rocking of the truck and the strange, heartbreaking comfort the song brings him is lulling him to sleep.
“Buck.” Something nudges his shoulder and Buck groans softly, pushing himself off where he’s slumped against the car window. “Buck.” He blinks his eyes slowly, brow furrowed as he orients himself again. He turns towards Eddie’s voice and finds his friend grinning back at him softly. “Hey. Welcome back.”
“I fell asleep,” Buck murmurs.
Eddie laughs gently. “I noticed. But we’re home now and Chris is waiting, so…”
“Right.” Buck sniffs and shakes his head, waking himself up a little as he unbuckles himself. “I just gotta grab my bag-”
“I got it,” Eddie says. “You go see Chris.”
“I can-” the protest dies in his throat and he swallows thickly. “Thanks.” Eddie just nods and so Buck opens his door and hops out onto shaky feet. He tries to perk himself up as he walks towards the house, already pulling his key from his pocket when the door opens on its own. Carla stands in the doorway, nodding for Buck to come in with a warm smile.
“I heard the car,” she explains, pulling him in for a quick hug. “Chris is in the kitchen and I gotta head out. You boys gonna be alright?”
“Yeah,” Buck says, letting her go. “Yeah we’re good.” And he’s not entirely sure it’s true, but he certainly knows he’s better now that he’s here. Carla squeezes his arm once and then moves past him, shutting the door behind her. Buck takes another deep breath and puts on his best smile as he walks towards the kitchen.
He stops in the entrance, leaning against the doorframe and smiling as he watches Chris. He’s working on homework, hunched over his papers on the table with his brow furrowed in concentration. Something must alert him to Buck’s presence because he suddenly looks up, beaming.
“Buck!”
“Hey Chris,” Buck greets cheerily, walking over to sit next to him. “What’re we working on?”
“Math.”
Buck scoffs, leaning back. “Well then, I'll officially be no help at all.”
Chris giggles and all of a sudden, Buck’s smile is genuine. The weight feels like it’s lifting and the constant pressure of tears is a little lighter. Then Chris pauses, peering at Buck and tilting his head.
“Can I give you a hug?” he asks abruptly. Buck frowns slightly. “You look upset.”
“Oh buddy,” Buck says softly, already opening his arms to envelop this small sunshine child that for some inexplicable reason seems to love him. “I’m alright, I just had a little bit of a difficult call today.”
Chris squeezes him tightly. “You should talk about it. Talking about things makes them less scary.”
Buck swallows hard, the tears returning with a ferocity. “Yeah,” he says, his voice thick, “yeah, I’ll do that, kiddo.”
“I’m glad you’re home,” Chris whispers into his neck and Buck looks to the ceiling, willing his tears away. He squeezes Chris tighter.
“Me too, Chris.”
***
A few hours later, after dinner and several rounds of video games that resulted in some truly spectacular losses on Eddie’s part, Buck’s putting Chris to bed. It wasn’t even a discussed thing- bedtime rolled around and Eddie went to do dishes and Buck came to tuck Chris in.
“Hey Buck,” Chris says softly, sleepily, as Buck moves to turn off his bedside lamp. Buck pauses, squatting beside Chris’s bed, and turns to look at him.
“Yeah?”
Chris yawns as he speaks and Buck almost misses it. “You’re a really good dad.”
And Buck… Buck doesn’t know how to answer that. Suddenly he’s choked up and yet again fighting back tears as he whispers, “Love you, kiddo. Sweet dreams.” He clicks off the light and Chris seems like he’s out almost immediately. Buck doesn’t move, just watches him for several moments.
A soft noise from behind him finally snaps him out of it and he turns to see Eddie leaning against the doorframe, an unreadable expression on his face. He just nods his head, gesturing for Buck to follow him, and walks away. Buck swallows hard. Fuck. So much for not crossing that line.
He’s shaky once again as he stands up and leaves Chris’s room, gently closing the door and steeling himself before going to meet Eddie in the living room. He’s sitting on the couch and watches Buck carefully as he walks over to sit next to him. They stay in silence for a while, Buck staring at his hands and Eddie’s gaze burning into the side of his head.
“I’m sorry,” Buck blurts finally, looking at Eddie. Eddie’s calculating expression morphs into one of confusion. Naturally, Buck starts to ramble. “I didn’t- I didn’t mean to overstep. I didn’t know that he was gonna- gonna say that. I just- I’m sorry.”
“Evan,” Eddie says sharply, cutting Buck off. Buck falls silent, swallowing his tears once more. Eddie’s voice turns gentle and he moves to cover both of Buck’s hands with his. “He didn’t say anything that’s not true.”
Buck’s jaw works as he tries to figure out what to say, searching Eddie’s eyes. “He didn’t?”
Eddie shakes his head, that gentle smile already forming again. “You’ve been a great dad to that kid since the moment you met him.”
“I-”
“Evan,” Eddie starts, firm but soft, “you are a part of this family. How many times do I have to tell you that before you believe me?”
“Maybe- maybe once more?” Buck tries for a grin, but he knows his shining eyes give him away.
“You’re a part of our family, Evan. Have been since the moment you met Chris. We’re not going anywhere, and neither are you. Okay?” Evan.
“Okay,” Buck says hoarsely. His mind is spinning and Eddie must be able to see it in his eyes because the next thing he asks is,
“What are you thinking about?”
“No one really calls me that,” Buck blurts out. “Evan. No one but Maddie.”
“Oh.” Eddie blinks, brow furrowed, like that’s not what he expected. “I didn’t mean to- I don’t have to-”
“No,” Buck interrupts quickly. He smiles a little. “It’s a good thing. I love the way you say my name. It makes me feel like-” He doesn’t know how to express it, how to turn the jumble of emotions into words.
“Like what?” Eddie prompts softly.
Buck looks him straight in the eyes and lets out a quiet, almost incredulous laugh. “Like I’m home.”
#eddie díaz#evan buck buckley#buckandeddie#christopher diaz#diaz-buckley family#just family stuff#evan buckley is a great father#christopher diaz has two dads#fic prompts#buddie fic#anon prompt#anonynous#tals writes#tals answers#tals procrastinates#i'm too tired to proof this so enjoy#don’t mind me making a gay joke in the last sentence
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Eve getting hurt and the whole family defending her. Especially if this is when she’s officially with Miguel
(This has been in my inbox for a while now, so I hope you like this! It got kind of long, and kind of violent, so... be aware of that, haha!)
Miguel never really worried about his work impacting his family before. Before the kids came, he was the only person he had to worry about. Then, when they moved in, they were already pretty well-versed in having to look after themselves, so Miguel didn’t worry about them too much. He still worried--he couldn’t help himself--but he took solace in the fact that when push came to shove, any one of them could give as good as they got. So he didn’t worry so much.
And then he got a phone call at 11:38 at night.
“Don’t panic,” Eve’s voice had made his heart stop. She was calling from an unfamiliar number, and her voice sounded odd...
“Where are you?” Miguel asked, already getting up from his desk, his heart pounding.
“St. Catherine’s,” she answered, “there was... an accident.”
The pause between her words told him everything he needed to know about why she was at the hospital. “Accident” was her censored way of saying “attack”.
“Are you safe now?” He asked, trying to keep his voice level, even as his heart was doing angry flips in his chest.
“I’m safe,” she answered, the timber of her voice letting him know that she was telling the truth, “I just have a few cuts and bruises--”
“--We’re on our way.”
Miguel marched downstairs, his mind supplying a million horrific scenarios that could have happened to his Eve. Spooky, Rio, and Angel were in the living room when Miguel got downstairs, and he could hear Didi and Coco arguing about poptarts in the kitchen. As soon as Spooky saw his Uncle, he knew something was wrong.
“What happened?” He asked, frowning over at Miguel’s tense face.
“Eve’s in the hospital,” Miguel answered.
Coco was in the room before Miguel’s mouth even closed. “What? Is she okay? What happened?” He asked, eyes wide.
“She’s okay, she said she has a few cuts and bruises,” Miguel explained quickly, “She didn’t want to say much over the phone, but this was an attack,” his eyes were hard as he looked over at his family, seeing the same rage and worry he felt reflected in their eyes. “Let’s go.”
Angel and Coco took their motorcycles while Spooky and Rio drove themselves and Didi rode with Miguel, gently assuring him that Eve was okay.
“Whoever hurt her,” Didi said, her dark eyes flashing, “is dead. Soon as we find out who did this to her, we’re putting them in the dirt, Uncle Miguel.”
He nodded. “No mercy.”
“No mercy,” Didi agreed, “just pain.”
Coco beat them to the hospital by about 75 seconds, he was already rushing towards the entrance when Miguel pulled up. A moment later, Angel, Spooky, and Rio pulled up as well, and they walked into the hospital together.
Miguel had seen some terrible things in his life, he’d lost both of his siblings, he’d been shot at and stabbed, underestimated and mocked, but he’d risen above it all. But now, as he waited at the front desk for the nurse to check the files and tell them which room Eve was in, Miguel felt that this was the worst moment of his life.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they were led to Eve’s room.
And Miguel’s heart broke.
His Eve, his strong, unstoppable Eve, was sitting on the hospital bed, her wrist wrapped in gauze and visible cuts and bruises on her face. She smiled when she saw them, reassuring them that she was fine.
“Hey,” she said softly.
Didi was across the room and practically in Eve’s lap in seconds, tears in her eyes as she held her pseudo-mother. Rio held the door open for the nurse, closing and locking it once she exited the room.
“Are you okay?” Didi asked, sitting up and putting both hands on Eve’s face, careful not to hurt her.
“I’m fine,” she smiled softly as Didi got up, giving Miguel a chance to come over.
He sat on the edge of her bed, his eyes taking in each and every cut and bruise, committing each wound to his memory because regardless of who did this to her, and the end of the day--it was his fault.
“Tell us what happened, mi amor,” he said softly.
“A car was following me. Black. Sedan. Tinted windows. I did all kinds of turns to lose them, but it didn’t work,” she shrugged one shoulder, “They hit me,” she spoke matter-of-factly, recounting the details of her attack with that objective tone she used in her work, “I lost control of the car. I think I lost consciousness for a second, but when I opened my eyes, three men were standing over me. They had dragged me out of the car and towards a ditch,” her eyes lost focus, and she stared at the air, “I thought I was going to die.”
Miguel felt tears in his eyes; he blinked them back quickly, holding onto his rage instead of his grief.
“They said they had a message,” she went on, turning to Miguel, “for you. They said you owed a cut of your profits to their family, that you did jobs in their territory...”
“Were they Irish?” Spooky asked, his fists balled at his sides.
Eve nodded. “Who are they?”
“Fucking McAllen brothers,” Angel growled out, “They’ve been begging for a piece of our shit for months now...”
“Why would they get a cut?” Eve asked, frowning. “They don’t have a part in this.”
“Because they’re greedy and weak,” Rio answered, “That’s why they attacked you...”
“I’m so sorry, Eve,” Didi said tearfully, “this is on us, we should have handled this weeks ago...”
“It’s fine,” Eve smiled, “I’m fine. This wasn’t your fault.” She reached out and brought her hand to Miguel’s face, her eyes staring into his, “This wasn’t your fault,” she said again.
He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to it. “I promise you, mi amor, they will never hurt you again.”
“I know they won’t,” she leaned close, her forehead on his, “as soon as they said they had a message for Galindo, I knew they were too dumb to live,” she smirked, “Everyone knows you don’t fuck with the Galindo family.”
He smiled back, his heart full of love for her and hatred for the McAllens.
“They gonna let you go home tonight?” Angel asked, now that the tension had cleared a bit since the family had non-verbally all agreed to a good old fashioned revenge murder.
Eve shook her head, pulling back from Miguel, “They want me to stay overnight in case I have a concussion or anything like that,” she smiled over at Coco, her son in every way, “I was hoping Coco could stay with me, if that’s okay.”
Miguel nodded, knowing that if he wasn’t there with Eve, Coco was the next best thing. Coco would walk through fire for Eve; he’d never let anything bad happen to her under his watch. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers, feeling her body, soft and solid and warm, close to his. “I’ll pick you up first thing tomorrow,” he promised her. He stood up then, and said one word: “Coco.”
Miguel and his nephew went outside, Coco smoking as he leaned against the wall, and Miguel pacing--something he never did.
“You want a square, Tio?” Coco asked, staring off into the night.
Miguel shook his head, stopping in his tracks. “I need you to stay by her side,” he said, turning to Coco, “all night. Okay?”
Coco nodded back, “Yeah, of course.”
“Are you armed?”
Coco lifted his shirt, exposing the gun tucked into the waistband of his pants. “Always.”
“Good,” Miguel resumed his pacing, “Tonight, we’ll handle the McAllens,” he stopped, already anticipating Coco’s objections, “I know you want to be there, but it has to be done tonight. Immediately,” he turned, his eyes burning, “It’s gonna be a message to every single piece of shit family, gang, club, and cop in this fucking state. You mess with one of ours, you hurt one of ours, and you get a bullet in the skull. Immediate retaliation.”
“Yeah,” Coco nodded, “yeah, okay... I’ll keep her safe, I promise.”
That night, after kissing Eve goodbye, Miguel, Spooky, Rio, Angel, and Didi went to work. Didi prepped the basement in the warehouse, directing the men Miguel lent her as they got the area ready.
“There’s gonna be a lot of blood,” she said as they moved a bench to the center of the room, “Make sure the drains aren’t clogged.”
Meanwhile, Spooky, Angel, and Rio donned black masks and effortlessly broke into the eldest McAllen brother’s home. He was the hardest to take down; he slammed a vase against Spooky’s head and got a few good licks in on Rio and Angel, but he went down eventually, his eyes rolling to the back of his head once Angel finally knocked him out. They cuffed him and threw him into the back of the van where Miguel was waiting.
“Two more to go,” he said, barely even glancing at the bleeding man in the back.
The other two McAllens were easier to wrangle; the younger brother was drunk off his ass at a bar, so all Spooky had to do was ask which stall he was in before every dude in the bathroom quickly pointed him out. The middle brother had cried and begged, saying it was his brothers who wanted to go after Eve.
“I told them, it’d be so much easier to just snatch the little girl for a few hours and drop her back off with a note or somethin’--”
“The little girl?” Rio asked, blood going cold. “Letty?”
They brought him to the warehouse with more than a few bruises. He was coughing up blood when the boys plopped him onto the bench with his brothers.
“So Eve wasn’t their first choice for a mark,” Spooky reported as Miguel donned a yellow raincoat, “They were considering grabbing Letty.”
Miguel froze, his murderous intentions going into overdrive. “They what?”
The three brothers, ducktape over their mouths, made noises of contrition.
“I already promised Coco I’d make sure I pick up the slack for him, since he isn’t here,” Angel said, cracking his knuckles, “but now I think I’m gonna have to kick it up a notch.”
“In a minute,” Miguel said, turning around with a hacksaw in his hands, taking a small bit of pleasure at the looks of fear on the men’s faces, “There’s no need to rush, Angel. We got all night.”
The next morning, Miguel went to pick Eve up from the hospital. When he walked in the room, she and Coco were having breakfast--delivery from their favorite cafe. Eve smiled over at him, that beautiful, warming smile that had Miguel weak in the knees, and he smiled back.
“Everything’s been taken care of?” She asked as Coco grabbed her bag, and Miguel kissed her hello.
“Mm hmm,” he answered, holding her close, his hand reaching out and caressing her face, careful not to upset her bruises, “We sent several messages last night... tiny, little messages wrapped up in leaking boxes,” he kissed her slowly, “and I’m conducting interviews for a security detail later today.”
“Security?” She pulled back, making a face. “Miguel, I don’t want security--”
“--it’s Nestor Oceteva,” he interrupted with a smile.
Eve laughed, rolling her eyes. “Of course it is. I thought Nestor was overseas?”
“Nope. He was honorably discharged last month, and he’s looking for work,” Miguel answered, eager to get back to kissing her.
“Who’s Nestor? You got another random nephew, man?” Coco asked, sighing.
“He’s an old friend,” Miguel said back, “Eve and I have known him for years. I trust him. Oh,” Miguel fished something out of his pocket and tossed it to Coco, who caught it right out of the air. It was a key.
“What the fuck is this for?” Coco asked, confused.
“The warehouse,” Miguel said back, “There’s a storm cellar in the basement. In the cellar is a trunk. In the trunk is a young man who was against targeting Eve,” Miguel looked over at Coco, that cool anger clear in his eyes, “because he thought it’d be more potent to kidnap Letty.”
Coco and Eve reacted at the same time in the exact same way: “What?”
“Yeah. Spooky was ready to end him, but Rio said it’d be better if it was you,” Miguel said, “Last I checked, he was still breathing, but I don’t know how much longer he’ll last--”
“Gracias, Tio Miguel,” Coco ground out, grabbing his jacket, he turned back, stomping over to Eve and giving her a quick kiss to the forward, “I’ll be home in a few.” And then he was gone.
“Are they all dead?” Eve asked, looking up at Miguel. “The other two, I mean?”
He nodded, his hands going to cup her face. “The older two brothers are split up between about eight boxes all over town,” he reported, “And no one should ever hurt you again. I am so sorry, mi amor.”
“Shh,” she smiled up at him, her murderous love, “don’t be sorry, baby. You handled it, and I’m safe now. We are all.” She learned over and kissed him, and Miguel’s body finally relaxed now that she was safe in his arms, and her attackers were either dead, or well on their way to being dead. “Now take me home.”
So he did. And as news spread of the three McAllen brothers’ mutilated bodies, everyone who operated in the criminal underworld got the message loud and clear:
No one--absolutely no one-- messes with the Galindo family and lives.
*******************************************************************************************
Okeeeeeey, that’s that, folks! PLEASE let me know what you think of this: if you liked it or not, if you had a favorite part, do you think the fam reacted accordingly? I wrote this all while watching murder shows on ID, so maybe that’s why it was especially murder-y lol...
Anyway--lemme know what you think, babes!
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masterlist
♰ — smut ☽ — angst ❀ — fluff ♕ — personal favorite
JUNE 26, 2021 (UPDATE):
i am here to say that i officially stopped writing fics, for those who come to my inbox to ask me either i will continue my fics or not, the answer is never. i am so sorry to disappoint, but it is what it is.
for those who waited and have been here since day-1, i sincerely thank you.
— note before you proceed: as of may 25, 2020, i am officialy taking a rest from writing fics. though, it doesn’t change the face that maybe in the future i will randomly post one or two drabbles, but chances are slim.
one of the solid reasons why i decided to take a rest is because i am: lazy. i know, it makes me sound like a total snob; but i off the internet, i am someone who worked from 8-5, and my work requires me to stare at my screen. i don’t have a time to take a breather when i am at home, too, because i am the type of person who brings my work back home.
but i would love to stress this out: the reason why i really decided to take a rest was because of the hateful words i have been receiving, sure, it doesn’t bother me as much, but it is the fact that some people would go to the lengths of degrading other people online. it makes me feel absolutely sick and disgusted by it. sure, it probably was only 2 out of 10 people who do that, but it doesn’t change the fact that i am only human and while it doesn’t affect me, it does exhaust me. after all, writing should be a joyful journey, an escape. but once it doesn’t feel that way, of course it exhaust one’s body.
i am thankful for all the support everyone been giving me, all of your kind words are something that i will always keep in my heart. thank you so much for loving my works, to those who gave me feedbacks, you’re a champ.
see you in the future, everyone!
✰ 」 a beautiful dream / ❀ / completed — being a single father is hard. especially when baekhyun’s in his early thirties and needing to make a name for himself. yet his daughter had been his greatest gift and he doesn’t mind if it means exhausting days and hardships to come — as long as he has her. though fate works in an incredible way when he meets somebody unexpectedly. — singledad!au, lawyer!au, teacher!au
✰ 」 something unforgettable / ❀ / completed — a vacation trip to a small island shouldn’t have meant something more than a way to clear your head from the stress and busyness of the polluted city. it all changed when you met a surfer that was so keen and persuasive to teach you how to surf. not only he was able to make you surf in a short amount of time, he also was able to let your heart be freed to the oceans for him to catch. — surfer!au, summer fling!au
✰ 」 half moon / ❀ ☽ / on-going, on hold. — you remembered the messy clothing sketches sprawled on the desk, and also remembered how proud you were when you modeled for his final assignment. the promise of you being the first one to wear his first official product was made. years passed by and the promise was forgotten as it wasn’t meant to be kept; until you received an invitation that has B.B.H signed on it. ironically, you found yourself confronting your past at your ex-boyfriend new collection launch event with your memories with him flashing through your mind. — ex to something!au, beauty youtuber!au, fashion designer!au
✰ 」 moonlight / ♰ ❀ — baekhyun and you under the moonlight — ceo!au, model!au
✰ 」 closer to you / ♰ — baekhyun knows you are beautiful, even more so when you are bend down in front of him with the lights illuminating your body as if you are showered by gold. — ceo!au, model!au
✰ 」 like toxin + epilogue / ♰ ☽ — developing romantic feelings for your friend with benefit are uncalled for; knowing how it will only lead to your heart being shattered to pieces. — friends with benefit!au, college!au
✰ 」 through the years / ❀ — you live in the era where red string of fate is real, that whoever is at the end of your string―is your soulmate. the catch is, you can only see who the end of your string after you kissed your soulmate. so, why, after thirty years of living―with the possibility that you don’t have a soulmate―you can see yours linked to your best friend? on your wedding day, at that. — best friends to lovers!au, soulmate!au, red string of fate!au
other stuffs that is not listed above can be found: here.
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The Queens of London Part 3 - My Loneliness is Killing Me
Hello hello hello! Chapter three has arrived, and boy does this one have some developments in it. (I say that like action happens. It doesn’t really). This chapter is mainly exposition and worldbuilding for you all, but there is some good drama throughout and some action in there. Sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors, my dog ate my chromebook.
Writing Masterpost
NOTE: I know historically that Katherine Brandon is Maria de Salinas’s daughter, but for the sake of this story we’re going to pretend that they aren’t related. Otherwise, it would cause a lot of plot holes with Maria’s involvement with the queens that’s just way too hard to work out for how the story is being written.
If anyone wants to send in prompts or requests, my inbox is always open, I love hearing from you all! Here are some prompts and asks if you ever feel like dropping by:
Prompts | More Prompts | The Trifecta of Prompts | Random Asks
Trigger Warnings: Vague mentions of sexual abuse
Part 1 | Part 2
The Queens and their ladies sat around the table listening to what Jane and Joan had gathered on Kat. “She was very uncomfortable,” Jane noted.
“Especially when I called her Brandon,” Joan threw in. “This girl’s hiding something, the only problem is we don’t know what.”
Cathy twirled a pen in her fingers. “Well this certainly complicates things.”
“Why don’t we just confront her on it?” Anne asked.
Maggie nodded along with her. “She can’t lie to all of us.”
“No,” Aragon sighed, “that wouldn’t work. She’d get defensive. If nine suspicious women surrounded you and demanded the truth, would you confess?” Anne let her eyes fall as her suggestion was rejected.
“Why are we talking about Kat as if she’s already a criminal?” Anna asked from her chair. She was leaning on the arm and had her leg up at an angle, a stance she put on to suggest that she had little stake in the conversation. Really, the others knew Anna had a big heart and was willing to intervene on behalf of any of them.
“She’s right,” Jane agreed. “I can keep an eye on her, like you all suggested, but other than that, we leave it be. Kat looks properly like a kid, we shouldn’t treat her like a hardened criminal.”
Cathy sat up and reminded the group, “She does supposedly deal with the Black Market, though.”
“Yes, we can’t forget about that,” Maria affirmed.
Rubbing her forehead, Bessie stood up. “I usually just let you do your thing, but this is dragging on. Let me just do a quick synopsis and then we can go home, kay?” When there was no objection from any of the others, Bessie continued, “Okay. Katherine Brandon, well known for her popular record label and dealings with the Black Market, has never been seen in public. Apparently, that’s because she looks like a seventeen year old. Although we don’t officially know her age, something’s clearly wrong with this whole situation. What I believe we’re all thinking right now is that Katherine Brandon is an alias.”
“Exactly,” Joan pointed at Bessie. “She flinches every time we say her name. Normally I would suggest that means she isn’t Katherine Brandon, but there’s no way anyone else could have gotten ahold of that note. Besides, what random person opens an envelope not addressed to them?”
Agreeing with Joan, Bessie finished the basic rundown. “We can’t directly confront her on this suspicion, but we can have Jane keep an eye on her. There will be no stalking,” she said this directly in Anne’s direction. “And things will continue as planned. Sound good?”
There was unanimous agreement among the group as they disbanded the meeting. As everyone got up, Anne pulled Cathy to the side. “Hey, is it just me or is there something familiar about Kat?”
The journalist frowned. “Not that I could tell. Why ask me?”
Anne shrugged and hid an embarrassed face. “You know the most, I figured if anyone would have any idea, it would be you.”
Giving Anne a kind smile, Cathy clicked her pen. “Well I’ll keep an eye out and tell you if I suddenly recognize her.”
“Thanks Cathy.” Those were the last words the queens exchanged before leaving for the night, set to return at the same time tomorrow.
Making it home, Kat immediately went to her old laptop and worked on getting it running. She had the thing from when she still lived with her father, but after being kicked out she was unable to get anything better. When the screen was properly lit, she typed in Jane Seymour Joan and waited for any information to pop up. First off, she got a bunch of photos of Jane at promotional events with Joan at her side. The two of them looked close, maybe even siblings.
There was an article attached to one of the pictures, so Kat clicked on it and started reading. “Joan Meutas is the co-owner of the Seymour fortune with her close friend Jane Seymour. Okay, so not related,” Kat talked to herself as she read. “The two are rarely seen without the other and they deal with Seymour related activities equally. When asked about allowing Joan to control half of her fortune, Jane said ‘Controlling all that money by myself is for too much power. I trust Joan to handle it far better than I could all alone. We work together and that’s what works best for us.’” Kat couldn’t help but feel her respect for this woman grow.
Moving on, Kat did her best to find the other ladies she had never met. She remembered Jane mentioning the names Maria, Bessie, and Maggie, so she started searching. After no results were yielded from Anne Boleyn Maria and Catherine Parr Maria, Kat struck gold with Aragon News Maria. There wasn’t as much personal stuff on her as there was on Joan, but there was quite a bit of work related information. Maria de Salinas is the close friend of CEO Catherine of Aragon and works beside her as the CFO of Aragon News. It is unclear when the two of them met, but when Catherine inherited her business, Maria was immediately appointed the CFO beside her.
The process continued with Bessie and Maggie. Margaret “Maggie” Lee is the main supplier of alcohol to Boleyn owned bars. While she does not own any alcohol companies, Margaret is known for providing some of the best mixes from different suppliers. Boleyn talks about her in many interviews as, “the best of both worlds. She makes a killer cocktail and she’s the best friend I’ve got…”
The article for Bessie was particularly long, so Kat skimmed it. Elizabeth “Bessie” Blount is the spokesperson for Cleves Fashion. She organizes the company’s events and speaks at press conferences in the place of legendary designer, Anna of Cleves. The two have been close friends for years, Elizabeth even collaborating with the designer on some occasions. There was a period of time where Elizabeth left the company to work for Aragon News, but she quickly quit under mysterious circumstances.
As much information as the articles had provided, Kat couldn’t help but have more questions than she started with. There was so much behind these nine incredible women, and she was hiding herself in their group, pretending to be someone she wasn’t.
Katherine Brandon is the owner of Darkrider Records and is known for writing many Number 1 hits in recent years. She appeared out of nowhere, taking the world by storm with her work and collaborations with rising artists. But perhaps the most interesting thing about Brandon is the lack of pictures of her. In fact, there is not a single confirmed photograph of Katherine Brandon, leading to some wild conspiracies surrounding her. Many claim that they’ve dealt with people under the alias Katherine Brandon in the Black Market, garnering Brandon an infamous reputation in the business world. Another one of the most famous conspiracies surrounding Katherine Brandon is that she is not a singular person, but rather a group of influential people pretending to be the figurehead of the company.
That was certainly quite the character Kat would have to play. Her only grace of good luck was the lack of information on Katherine Brandon. “Why am I doing this,” Kat mumbled under her breath.
The answer came clear as day, even though Kat didn’t want to accept it. Accepting her answer would mean continuing this dangerous lie. But her resolve was breaking down quickly, and Kat couldn’t help but think of her reasons. Backing out would mean her life would go back to the way it was. Playing music to passersby and barely making enough money to afford her dingy apartment. She didn’t even have much of an education, something she desperately wanted. These women had offered money in their note, but that wasn’t what really interested Kat. Of all things, it was because Kat was lonely. She had no one and nothing and slowly but surely it was killing her. This was probably her only chance at doing something worthwhile in her life. She could disappear off the map and never matter at all, or she could help take down a murderous, corrupt politician.
When phrasing it like that, Kat knew she never stood a chance of backing out.
Unfortunately, joining a secret plot to overthrow a wealthy politician did not really have any benefits. Waking up at the crack of dawn to get set up on the street was not something Kat particularly liked doing, but it was necessary if she wanted to make enough money from free music. At first she couldn’t make much money, but quickly Kat learned the trick was the length of time she spent playing, not the quality of the music.
Most of the time people dropped money out of pity, not because they enjoyed the music she played. Kat hated living off of pity money, but no one ever wanted to hire her for a job, leaving her with no choice. The day always started out slow with only a few dollars here and there, but business picked up later on in the day. Kat liked to refer to her music as if it was a real job, using terms like business and customers to make herself feel better about the whole situation.
As the pale morning started to fade and the sun began shining through the clouds, Kat huddled in on herself, obsessively checking her watch that was propped against her guitar case. 7:50. Kat anxiously chewed her lip and strummed the guitar, trying to keep her mind fixed on the music. In the next few minutes, Jane would walk by and for once Kat did not want to be noticed.
“Kat? What’re you doing here?” asked a voice, causing the girl to jump in her seat. Dread and nervousness settled in her stomach, but Kat put on her best facade. The minimal information on Katherine Brandon allowed her to build her character as she wished (Kat was glad she had taken those theatre classes when living with her father), so she tried her act on Jane.
Appearing calculated and confident, Kat glanced down at her instrument and then back at Jane. “Oh this?” Kat commented offhandedly, “I play out in public in order to attract anyone interested in music. You’d be surprised how many talents come by and start singing with the music. How do you think I recruit so many new stars to my label?”
Jane hid her surprise at Kat’s sudden change in demeanor well. The girl was acting completely different than the worried teen the night before, which immediately sent up red flags in Jane’s mind. “How long do you stay out here?”
“Eh, only a couple hours in the morning, I usually go to the company to put in some actual work. Can’t be slacking off.”
Taking note of the vagueness in the word “work”, Jane bobbed her head up and down. Kat was acting exactly how the queens had predicted Katherine Brandon would, something that shouldn’t have been strange. But Kat made a lasting first impression, and to have her do an entire 180 in a single night meant something was up. “I can’t stay for long, Kat, but I’ll be seeing you later tonight.”
Returning to her music, Kat gave a small wave, “Yes Jane, I’ll be there.” With that, Jane walked off and Kat sighed heavily, releasing the tension in her body. While her Katherine Brandon character wasn’t perfected, that portrayal was certainly more believable than the nervous girl Kat had been the night before. Being Katherine Brandon was far better than Kat being herself, and if that’s what it took for Kat to take her first steps into this new world, she would take it in a single leap.
The night came again quickly, Kat’s nerves skyrocketing as the first sign of darkness started creeping into the sky. This time, Kat was more prepared, so she pulled out her cleanest pair of pants and the nicest dress shirt she owned, regardless of the warmth. If she was to impress these women, she needed to dress elegantly while also appearing nonchalant.
Arriving at the closed theatre, Kat moved to open the door like the first night. Before she could grab the handle, someone’s hand wrapped around her mouth and another around her waist, wrestling her away from the door and into the alley beside the theatre. Screeching into the hand, Kat started thrashing in panic, pushing at her captor.
The person made a grunting noise and Kat squirmed, but they kept a tight grip on her waist. Suddenly, Kat was thrown back into the memories of hands on her waist, holding her and touching her. A sob came out of Kat’s mouth as she started to shake, only for her assailant to let her go.
“Kat?” came the soft voice of Anne Boleyn. The bar owner had quieted herself so she couldn’t be heard by anyone other than Kat. “I’m sorry, did I scare you too much?”
Spinning around and lifting her head, Kat realized the person who had attacked her was only Anne, her face heating up with shame as she saw how badly she’d spooked Kat. “Why would you do that?” Kat whispered hoarsely, trying to regain her composure.
Putting her hands in her coat pocket, Anne shrugged. “I was trying to test you, see how well you reacted to being attacked.”
“Yeah, well I’ve never been attacked like that before, so clearly I didn’t do well.” Kat sighed and clenched her fists so Anne could not see the trembling. “Just don’t do it again.”
Anne held her hands up defensively. “Sorry, sorry. You head inside, I’ll be in in a minute.” Kat nodded and moved around Anne and out of the alley. She shot one last glance at Anne before moving inside the theatre to join the other women.
When Anne was sure Kat was gone, she reached in her pocket and pulled out a wallet. Opening it up, Anne began muttering to herself. “Alright Brandon, let’s see what secrets you’re hiding in here.”
#six the musical fanfiction#six the musical fanfic#six the musical fic#six fanfiction#six fanfic#The Queens of London#part three#i'm not going to tag all the queens#because that's just going to get redundant#yes all the titles are based off of song lyrics#i'm trying to be aesthetic#my inbox is always open#ignore all the historical plot holes#especially with Katherine Brandon and Maria
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Call Me Doctor. (Steve’s Chapters 7 & 8)
Summary: Fresh out of graduate school, you had somehow landed a spot in the faculty of a prestigious university. The small anthropology department has too many faculty and too few offices; sharing an office does not go as you expected.
Pairing: Professor!Steve x Professor!Reader
Words: 4710
Warnings: Language and ANGST
A/N: I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to write more of this. I graduated with my Masters a week ago and have been busy applying to jobs all week. But this chapter is v long to try to make up for it!!
IMPORTANT: THIS IS WRITTEN FROM STEVE’S PERSPECTIVE!!!!!!! THIS DEPICTS STEVE’S VIEW FROM CHAPTER 7 TO CHAPTER 8 OF CALL ME DOCTOR!!
Catch Up On the Story Here

By the third week of the semester, Steve became more smitten with (Y/N) than he had believed possible. While in the past he had actively avoided the departmental lunches in favor of staying in his office and working, knowing that (Y/N) would be there enticed him to attend, despite the comments and looks he received from James about it. Steve found that he could join her for lunch the other two days a week as well, and was thankful that it was just the two of them together in the office. He learned more and more about (Y/N) during each lunch, such as how she loved ketchup but hated tomatoes and couldn’t listen to classical music while working because she got too involved listening to the specific instruments to focus on her tasks. No matter how hungry Steve was, he could talk to (Y/N) for hours and often forgot to eat his lunch, leaving him hastily shoving it into his mouth as he ran off to one of his classes.
Steve was thankful that the third week also brought less students into the office, as they had already done their necessary introductions with (Y/N) during the first two weeks. While in the past he would have taken the quiet to work, he found himself wanting to talk to (Y/N) instead. While they chatted about different things about their lives outside of work, they also talked about various challenges of their jobs. Steve got advice on how to incorporate popular culture into his lectures to make them more appealing to students.
On one afternoon, Steve worked up the nerve to ask (Y/N) how to use Tumblr. Steve told (Y/N) about the year he had spent studying love letters sent during WWII and was curious if he could find fanfictions on Tumblr to relate to them, just as (Y/N) had done with the Egyptian love poems. She helped him set up a username (he chose SteveRogers_UniversityProfessor so he wouldn’t forget it) and then began to search for stories. Steve watched as she pulled up fanfictions about a star-spangled superhero who was incredibly popular with the ladies. Seeing (Y/N) blush at the explicit content appearing on his screen made Steve wonder what sorts of NSFW activities she was in to. He deemed it necessary to continue reading it, even at her requests to exit the page to “get the full experience.” Seeing her embarrassment and how easily she navigated the site, Steve also began to wonder if (Y/N) may have written some of the content herself.
Steve picked up the phone and, to (Y/N)’s chagrin, called James and told him to come into his office. When James came into the room, the three of them huddled behind the computer screen. Steve gently moved the keyboard from under (Y/N)’s fingers and typed in the username that (Y/N) had referenced in her presentation. He quickly found stories of an American turned Russian super-soldier, which James found immensely interesting.
“Steve, click that one, Guys My Age,” James requested.
Steve obliged and opened the story, “Which Part?”
“Part one!” James excitedly replied.
Steve clicked Part One, “Warnings are lap dance and angst.”
“I thought you said these were juicy!” Bucky scoffed, “This just sounds like a typical Saturday night.”
Steve rolled his eyes and clicked on the link to the next part.
“Smut and NSFW gifs? Now we’re talking,” Bucky said, leaning closer to the screen.
“‘Fuck me. Now. You can apologize later.’ This is kinda kinky, (Y/N),” Bucky said, giving her a look.
“‘His hands were roaming everywhere and you couldn’t get enough of the contrast between temperatures,’” Steve read.
“‘Please...please touch me I n-ned to feel you inside me!’” James read, pawing at Steve’s shoulder.
(Y/N) awkwardly cleared her throat from behind the two men, who both began to giggle.
“If you’ll both excuse me, I think I need to go make my own Tumblr account for...research purposes,” James said, as he began to leave the office.
“Don’t forget you share an office with someone, James,” Y/N replied.
“That didn’t stop you two,” James winked as he left the room.
By Friday Steve had been looking forward to going home and searching through Tumblr to see if he could find an account for (Y/N). She was packing up her things to go home when Tony stopped by the office.
“Ah, perfect! (Y/N) and Steve, you’re both still here! Unfortunately, I have an important engagement tonight, Pepper is getting awarded an Excellence in Leadership award, and I of course will be there, so we need faculty to be here for the lecture tonight. Everyone else seems to have gone home already, so it looks like you two are the ones for the job!”
Steve cleared his throat in annoyance, getting ready to snap back, which Tony quickly realized.
“No issues with that I hope?” Tony rhetorically asked, giving (Y/N) a poignet look, “Great, thanks a bunch! (Y/N), the welcome is in your email inbox ready to go!” Tony finger-gunned them both as he left the office smiling.
Steve heard (Y/N) grumbling as she unpacked her bag and sat back down at her desk.
“So typical of Tony,” Steve growled.
“What do you mean, typical?” She asked.
“He is notorious for last minute assignments when he knows people have better things to do. He did it to you your first week by assigning you that lecture and he did it to me with the introduction.” While Steve loved the freedom he had to research by being just a professor, he often regretted not taking the director position because it would have meant that he could be the one bossing Tony around.
Steve heard (Y/N) mutter something to herself, “What was that?” he asked looking (Y/N) straight in the eyes.
“Nothing, just annoyed I have to stay.”
“Why? Big plans this weekend?” Steve’s heart began to race.
“Huge plans. I had a big date,” she replied, to which Steve’s heart sank and he couldn’t help a tense frown appearing on his face, “with my couch, my tv, a pint of ice cream, and a bottle of wine,” she finished.
Steve took a deep sigh of relief and his face relaxed, “That sounds very similar to my weekend, minus the tv and the ice cream.”
“You have a couch?” she teased him, “I imagined you felt most comfortable on a bed of nails.”
Steve was aware of the office jokes about his home, but it stung a bit coming from (Y/N), “Gotta sleep sharp to keep sharp,” he joked back, trying to cover it up.
After sitting in silence a few minutes, Steve felt the need to defend himself further.
“You know my apartment really isn’t full of dangerous furniture, right?” he asked hesitantly, a blush creeping into his cheeks.
“I can’t make any official judgements until I have experience.”
“Well, perhaps I will return the invitation to a dinner in my home,” Steve’s heart was racing.
“I would like that,” she said, quickly adding, “I mean, it would be nice to have a get together of everyone.”
Steve couldn’t tell why she had added the bit about everyone coming over, and simply answered, “Quite.”
They returned to working in silence until (Y/N)’s phone alarm went off to go downstairs to the lecture. They both packed up their things and went down together. Steve placed his things on a seat in the back of the room.
“I should probably sit in the front, since I have to do Tony’s welcome,” (Y/N) said.
Perhaps too eagerly, Steve replied, “I’ll join you,” before picking up his things and walking with her to the front of the lecture hall.
Steve settled into a seat near the podium, next to the one (Y/N) had placed her bag on. After she had finished the welcome, she moved her bag to the floor and sat next to him. Steve couldn’t focus on the lecture, as he thought about the woman sitting next to him instead. 10 minutes into the lecture, Steve noticed (Y/N)’s leg restlessly bouncing up and down. He waited a few seconds, working up his nerve, and then nudged her.
“Worried you’ll be late for your date?” he whispered in her ear.
“Ha. Ha.” she whispered back.
He took a deep breath, and decided to ask, “Wanna get drinks after this?”
“Honestly, we should’ve gotten drinks before,” she replied.
Steve couldn’t help but snort a laugh in agreement.
With drinks to look forward to at the end of the lecture, the event seemed to take even longer than usual. Once or twice, when (Y/N) shifted in her seat, she would accidentally elbow Steve. Although he knew it was an accident due to how close the seats were to each other, he couldn’t help the flutter of his heart each time it happened. Steve began to daydream about the night ahead; getting drinks with (Y/N), maybe going to his or her apartment after for more conversation, leaving before things got too heated...if they even got a little heated at all. Steve snapped back to reality when he felt the seat next to him move as (Y/N) got up to thank everyone for attending.
“Ready?” Steve asked as she came back to her seat and hurriedly picked up her bag.
“Never been more so,” she replied.
“Let’s go then, there’s a good bar a few blocks north. I’ll lead the way.”
Steve resisted the urge to take her hand, and walked out of the auditorium. The walk to the bar was spent discussing how boring the lecture had been. As they entered the bar, they found it noisy and dimly lit. Steve led the way to the only open table in the back of the bar, where there was at least a little reprieve from the sounds of the full bar. (Y/N) sat down, and Steve leaned down to speak into her ear, which gave him a slight flutter in his stomach.
“It’s loud in here, is this ok?” he asked.
“It’s fine!”
“Alright,” he felt relieved, “I’ll get us some drinks. Any requests?”
“Something full of alcohol.”
Steve nodded a reply, and as he turned to the bar he couldn’t help but smile at her response. Despite the bar being full, Steve was able to slide in and have the bartender come right to him.
“Hiya Steve,” the bartender said, pulling out a glass from under the bar, “The usual?”
“Hey Stan,” Steve replied, “two of the usuals this time.”
“Two?” Stan asked. Steve moved slightly so the bartender could look around him and see (Y/N) at the table. “Good for you!” he exclaimed, getting out another glass and filling them both with ice and bourbon.
“Thanks Stan,” Steve said as he slid cash across the bar.
“Have fun tonight,” Stan winked at him.
Steve walked back to the table and handed (Y/N) one of the glasses, taking a drink as he sat down in the chair next to her, “Bourbon on the rocks.”
She took her drink and coughed, and Steve couldn’t help but laugh as he patted her on the back.
“I haven’t had much time to drink lately, so it’s a bit strong!”
“Yeah, sure,” Steve continued to chuckle, he couldn’t help but feel even more attracted to her.
They spent two hours talking about anything and everything, from restaurants in the neighborhood to places they wanted to visit in the city, career goals, and hopes for the future. To Steve, the loudness of the bar disappeared as he focused on (Y/N)’s voice, although after 3 drinks his focus wasn’t as great as he wished.
“So, Steve, are you seeing anyone?” (Y/N) asked.
Steve felt a lump form in his throat, “No, not recently.”
“Oh...that’s interesting.”
Steve noticed a blush spread in her cheeks and he couldn’t help but smile, “I suppose so. Another round?”
“Why not!”
Steve returned to the bar for another round.
“Looks like it’s going well over there,” Stan grinned at Steve.
“I actually think it is,” Steve grinned back. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so happy. “I really like her, Stan.”
“I think the feeling may be mutual,” Stan said, nodding in (Y/N)’s direction.
Steve turned to see her anxiously combing her fingers through her hair and smoothing it down.
“This round is on me,” Stan said, sliding two more drinks across the bar, “Go get her!”
Steve thanked Stan and went back to (Y/N).
“Here you are, Doctor,” he said as he handed her her drink. His eyes wandered to her chest, and he could have sworn her breasts had somehow gotten larger, he quickly looked back up to her face as he sat down.
Steve nervously cleared his throat, dreading the possible answer to the question he was about to ask, but knowing he needed an answer, “Are you seeing anyone?” He took a long drink from his glass as he waited for her answer.
“I am not,” she replied, to which Steve let out a sigh of relief, “I was told in school that I needed to choose between my own academic success or a personal life, and I wouldn’t be here now if I had chosen a personal life.”
Steve didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the encouragement from Stan that made him ask, “Would you be terribly offended if I kissed you?”
“Not in the least,” (Y/N) replied, moving herself closer to him.
Steve set his drink down and moved his hand behind her head, pulling her into him. The moment their lips met, Steve felt a shiver run down his spine and his heart began to pump faster. She moved her hands up to his face and kept her mouth against his. Steve didn’t want to admit how strong his feelings for (Y/N) were before, but after such a passionate kiss, he had to. (Y/N) eventually pulled away, breathing heavily.
“Wow,” she breathed.
“Yeah,” was all Steve managed to gasp out. He took a moment, cleared his throat, and said, “I’m glad you chose academics over a personal life so you’d end up here.”
“Me too.”
“So, who do I owe thanks to for the sage advice?” he asked, still caught up in the moment.
Steve noticed (Y/N) become very hesitant before she answered, “It was actually my advisor, Sharon.”
Steve couldn’t help himself, the alcohol had lowered his ability to keep his emotions in check, although he wasn’t that great at it sober, “That bitch?” he instantly cursed under his breath.
“Steve, what happened between you and Sharon?” Steve could see how tentative (Y/N) was, but he was too blinded by a drunken rage to hold back.
“What didn’t happen? She stole my mentor, she stole my scholarship, broke my heart, stole a grant from me...I finally beat her when I got the position here.” Steve spat out the abridged version of his relationship with Sharon.
“Wait, backtrack a second, she broke your heart?”(Y/N)’s face fell, but Steve didn’t notice.
“We were in our first year of undergrad and I saw her and I developed a crush on her. She always acted like she wanted me back, but she just used me for my notes and my brain and then she took every opportunity I applied for, which she only knew about because my dumb ass would tell her that I was applying for things. I’m sure she fucking plagiarized my applications because she always wanted drafts to look at for examples. I followed her along, having never experienced such an attraction and she quickly lost interest in me as she grew more and more successful, although I’m sure the interest was fake on her side to begin with. Fuck her. I’m surprised you were able to turn out so well with her lying ass advising you. Or maybe you’re just a fake too,” Steve couldn’t keep himself from lashing out, his anger blinding him from any tact. While he had no reason not to trust or believe in (Y/N), his hatred of Sharon was clouding his judgement of her and he was not sober enough to realize it.
“Steve, I think you should go home.”
“Oh, should I? Is that your professional opinion, Doctor?” Steve spat, his rage blinding him from seeing that (Y/N) was on the verge of tears.
“What the actual fuck?”
“Maybe you are a fucking fake. Great, now you can fucking break my heart too,” Steve snarled, getting up and stumbling his way to the door. He pulled out his phone to try to call a ride home, but his eyes struggled to focus due to the alcohol and rage.
“Steve, let me help you,” he heard (Y/N) say from behind him.
“Fuck off, (Y/N),” he yelled, as the car he ordered arrived, “Clear off the bookshelf for Monday, I have a new shipment of books coming in and I need the space.”
Steve got into the car and left (Y/N) on the corner without another word. His eyes began to burn as tears streamed out of them. The further he got from the bar, the louder the little voice in the back of his head telling him he had just made a terrible mistake became. He stumbled out of the car and fumbled with his keys, finally getting into his apartment and collapsing on his bed, shaking with tears of anger towards Sharon and disappointment towards himself. He grabbed his phone and called James, but got no answer.
Suddenly feeling the urge to vomit, Steve crawled his way to the bathroom and arranged himself near the toilet. He lost track of how many times he had thrown up before he passed out.
Steve awoke in the morning to James gently shaking his shoulder and asking him to wake up.
“Buck?” Steve asked groggily, a vile taste in his mouth. As he opened his eyes, he found himself facedown on the floor of his bathroom. “What the fuck happened?” he asked as he hoisted himself into a sitting position with the help of his friend.
“That’s what I’d like to know,” James answered. “I woke up this morning to a call from you, and when I tried to call back I got no answer. I waited at the brunch place for 20 minutes and then came straight here, figuring something was wrong.”
Steve tried to remember what had happened the night before, but everything seemed foggy, “I’m sorry, man. I just can’t think straight right now.”
“Well, let’s get you showered and changed and maybe you’ll remember more later,” James said gently, helping a wobbly Steve stand up. “Can you do this by yourself though, because I really don’t want to sponge bath you.”
“Yeah, I got it,” Steve chuckled weakly.
James left Steve in the bathroom to shower, checking in every minute to make sure he was still upright and ok. Steve finished the shower and found clothes waiting that James had set out for him. He got dressed and went to the living room, where he flopped down on the couch.
“Remember anything else, buddy?” James asked gently.
Steve furrowed his brow as he tried to remember, “I went to the damn lecture because Tony said I had to. (Y/N) was there,” he paused for a moment, “And we went out for drinks afterwards I think?”
“Ok, this is a good start,” James encouraged him.
“Fuck, my head is pounding. Can I take a quick nap and maybe I’ll know more when I wake up?”
“Sure, Steve, get some rest,” James grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and covered Steve with it.
Steve was asleep in seconds, and James quickly grabbed his phone and texted (Y/N). When she didn’t answer he began to text more frantically. When she still didn’t respond, he started to call.
Steve’s began to wake up when he heard James on the phone with someone.
“And I found him slumped over the toilet, passed out and covered in his own vomit. I finally got him in the shower and cleaned up, and now he’s sleeping on the couch. So, what the fuck did you do to him?” he heard James asking.
Steve’s face began to burn when James said, “And I don’t suppose you know why he was cursing out Sharon under his breath.”
There was a pause before James replied, “I gathered as much with Sharon, but if he hates you, why was he also going on about some kiss?”
Steve shuddered as he began to piece the night together. He had been out with (Y/N) after the lecture and everything was going so well and that had been one hell of a kiss. The whole night was perfect until Sharon ruined it. She wasn’t even physically there and she still had the power to ruin his life.
“(Y/N), it’s ok, I’m sure he’ll get over it,” he heard James saying.
Just hearing her name made Steve feel sick. He felt terrible for what he had said last night, although he couldn’t remember exactly what it was.
“Look, (Y/N), I’ll talk to him when he gets up. He’s my best friend and I know a lot about him. I know he thinks too highly of you to keep a grudge,” James said before a pause as he listened to (Y/N)’s response, “Heck yeah, Just, maybe don’t bring up that She-Devil again?” James laughed.
Steve squirmed on the couch as he began mentally beating himself up for how he had reacted, which James saw. Steve tried to hide his head under the blanket, but to no avail.
“Alright, (Y/N), I see movement on the couch. I’m gonna let you go, but don’t worry about what he said to you last night. Steve’s an asshole when he’s drunk. See you Monday,” James said before hanging up his phone and putting it in his pocket.
“Steve. You done fucked up,” James said, coming to the couch and ripping the blanket off Steve.
“Shit,” was all he could manage to say.
“You know, I was in favor of you two getting together, dating, and even with you fucking her. I was not down with you fucking her over. What the hell, man?”
“I don’t know what happened. Everything was going so well and then Sharon got brought up and I just snapped. (Y/N) is the first woman I’ve actually liked like this since Sharon,” he spat out her name, “The first woman I’ve let my guard down for. I think that’s why it happened. We were having the perfect night and the perfect kiss and then Sharon came up and I felt betrayed. Like I had let my walls down for the wrong person.”
James opened his mouth to speak, but Steve shook his head and continued.
“I know, I fucked up. It’s my fault and (Y/N) will probably never want to go out with me again. I feel terrible and I don’t know what to do.”
“You could apologize?”
“I don’t think that is even enough to fix this mess. Maybe I’ll just give her some space?”
“Space could work. I still think an apology is the best route though.”
The two men sat on the couch, each lost in thought. The silence was broken by the rumbling of James’s stomach.
“Ok, I need to eat. Are you still down to brunch or are you too hungover?”
Steve tried to sit up, but felt churning in his stomach, “I think I need to sit this one out,” he said, laying back down.
“Alright, we’ll I’m outta here then. I’ll give you some time to think and see you Monday. Please don’t fuck this up even more,” James said, getting up and leaving.
Steve spent the rest of the weekend trying to think of ways to apologize to (Y/N). He wrote and typed multiple apology letters, but none seemed to truly capture how sorry he was. He arrived to campus on Monday and decided that avoidance was the best option. He took a page from (Y/N)’s book and decided to set up a temporary office in the library.
Steve realized he needed a specific book from his office, and checked his watch. He had a few minutes before she would be back from her class to go get it. He hurried to the office, unlocked the door, grabbed the book, and quickly got out and relocked. He realized too late he had forgotten to turn off the light, as he heard someone coming.
Too embarrassed to face (Y/N), Steve spent the rest of the week working from the library. He went to the small coffee shop across the street to eat his lunches, as he didn’t want to risk an interaction in the staff lounge. He rode his motorcycle to work every day, even through the rain on Thursday, as he couldn’t bring himself to chance meeting (Y/N) on the bus again.
After a successful week of avoidance and intel from James that she had been eating in the office, Steve risked a lunch in the staff lounge on Friday. He walked in and joined James on the couch, nervously taking his sandwich from the container.
“You’re sure she won’t be here?” Steve asked quietly.
“Dude, you seriously need to calm down,” James replied with a deep sigh, “If you had just done what I suggested and apologized, there would be no need for this.”
“I tried. I just can’t find the words to fully encompass how sorry I am.”
“How about, I’m sorry?” James asked.
The two ate their lunches, with James making casual conversation and Steve on edge that (Y/N) would show up. Steve had almost finished his meal when he heard someone walk into the room and looked up. Upon seeing it was (Y/N), his heart raced and his face turned bright red. Despite the fact that their conversation had been about the best flavor of pudding to pair with whipped cream, the men immediately stopped talking.
“Hey, (Y/N)!” James said, patting the seat next to him for her to come join.
Steve could see the hesitation she displayed upon actually taking the seat next to James. She opened her lunch box without looking at him, which made his heart sink.
“So, how’s your week been?” James asked her.
Steve immediately stared into his cup of coffee as he saw (Y/N)’s head lift to look at James.
“It’s been quiet…” she replied.
Steve looked up at her, trying to tell if she meant a good quiet or a bad quiet, but she was intently looking down at her lunch.
“Steve was telling me he’s had a lot of meetings this week,” James said, nudging Steve with his elbow, “This is really the first I’m seeing of you too, buddy.”
“And it’s all you get,” Steve grumbled, grabbing his bag and quickly walking out. He appreciated James’s help, but couldn’t stand how nonchalant he was acting about everything, he just needed to get out of that room before he broke down.
Steve went back to the library and just as he was sitting down, he was joined by James.
“Steve, that was the perfect opportunity for you to make things go back to normal. Why’d you walk away?”
“Because, James, I like her too much. Look at her, she couldn’t even make eye contact with me. I fucked that relationship up too badly. She’d never try again with me, so why even bother to talk to her?”
“That’s not the answer, Steve. Plus, how do you know she wouldn’t try again with you?”
“Because of this,” Steve spat out, showing his phone to James.
The phone was open to a text from Loki which read:
I’m taking out (Y/N) this weekend. Better luck next time sucker
CHAPTER NINE
STEVE’S CHAPTER NINE
Call Me Doctor. Tag List:
@ashislost @wantingtobekorra @zlixlle @crazy--me @grey-raven @queenkitten95 @chook007 @tequila1984 @yallneedtrek @ssweet-empowerment @guera31 @justmesadgirl @fourtyninekirbygamzeegirl @rainbowkisses31 @writing-for-a-chance @sp2900 @notkikibear @itzmegaaaaaaan @partiallyinthecloset @moonstruckhargrove @straybattie @angryteapot @fandom-addict-aesthetics @hazellnut94 @abschaffer2 @hadesgirl1015 @vikki-rogue @biskwitmamaw @justkending
Steve Rogers/Chris Evans Tag List:
@patzammit
Permanent Tag List:
@sophiealiice @mrsdeanwinchester19 @thisismysecrethappyplace @ailynalonso15 @221bshrlocked @hazellnut94 @libbymouse @nerdypinupcrystal @hufflepuffchloe
#fanfic#call me doctor#steve rogers x reader#steve x reader#marvel#au#professor au#professor steve#anthropology
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Big News
I’m sorry for being inactive with headcanons for so long. Work, laziness, and various distractions have kept me busy lately as well as some other issues recently. However, that is no excuse for being neglectful and it’s not fair to you guys.
Everyone, thank you for your patience with me and for following One Piece Headcanons.
Onto the news:
First off, as of right now, One Piece Headcanons has over a thousand followers. 1,063 to be exact. Again, thank you, all of you. I never expected, not in my wildest dreams, for this blog to make it this far. None of this could have happened without you.
Second of all, I am painfully aware that I have many requests that you have been waiting years for. So, I have reluctantly come to the decision to clear out my inbox by the end of the month. Starting on November 1st, my inbox will be empty and I’ll be starting anew. In the meantime, I will not be taking anymore requests. I’ll be doing the headcanons I can during this. If there is a request you really, really want me to do, please feel free to resend it after I clear out the inbox. (Just read the rules first, please).
I want to begin fresh and do it right this time. I’m sorry for making you wait only to start all over. However, I feel it’s even more unfair to all of you if I kept making you wait for these requests.
That being said, I have been thinking of creating blogs for individual crews. For example, there would be a Straw Hats Headcanons blog, a Heart Pirates one, and a Kidd Pirates one. I’d still answer requests here for the other characters on my list. I’ll expand on what I’m planning on doing in another post.
I am also been considering of doing chapter reviews of the manga or at least giving my thoughts on the chapter. Probably on the official release so I can semi-avoid giving out spoilers.
Again, thank you for your follows and your patience. We couldn’t have made it to this point without you, your requests, and support.
~PirateRose Writer
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Clint (Happy Ending)
Summary: Soulmates are identify each other by the words written on their wrists. Imagine if Clint and the kids come to stay at the tower after certain events take place.Pairings: Clint/You, Stony and Darcy/Bruce.
"Hey ninjago!" Tony Stark said in greeting as he walked into the communal kitchen of what is Avengers tower.
"What's up Tin Man," you say with a small grin as his smirk falls at the jab and perhaps the X-Man nickname of a certain giant chrome ham of a man that lives in Xavier's Home for Gifted Youngsters.
"Colossus has nothing to do with this Black Feather," Tony said interrupted by a loud laugh from his mark-mate.
"Ya sure its not you that has everything to do with it?" Steve said pressing a kiss to Tony's left cheek.
Tony melted a little at the affection then focused on you again, "Ok....I'm sorry, I'm just–"
"Waiting to go on your honeymoon like Colossus did with Wade, Thor and Jane, Pepper and Bruce...yea we know," You said with a forced laugh as you turned to look into your still half full mug of coffee.
You heard Tony groan and surmised that Steve did something physical to him.
"You'll find your own (Y/N)," Steve said kindly walking to where you were sitting on the kitchen island.
"Yea right..."
"Seriously though..." Tony said, "Honeymooning will allow me to properly debauch the Capsicle."
You laugh and look up to see Steve imitating a lobster as he grinned boyishly.
In that moment Darcy ran in a grinning Black Widow walking in behind her.
"What's got the spider so happy?" Tony asked taking your mug to steal some of your drink.
Darcy landed her but on the island top and said, "Clint is finally coming in!"
"And bringing the kids with him," Natasha chimed in.
"And Laura?" Steve asked curiously.
"Ran off with the farm hand after having had enough of being 'marked' to a soldier," Darcy spat angrily.
All present gasped at that not expecting the once thought honest woman to do such a thing.
"And let me guess...you want help setting up a new room for not only Clint but his kids right?" You asked Darcy.
"I thought you'd never ask (Y/N)! Thank you soooooo much for asking, I'd looove your help!" Darcy said crowning it with a cheeky and smug grin.
You all laugh at that and spread out to do their own thing.
You follow after Darcy and Natasha to the room that is face to face with yours.
"Stark said this room is one of the few that were refurbished and enlarged so this room will accommodate them well," Natasha said kindly.
Darcy looked like she was flat out plotting something but you said nothing and went in with the two women to clear out the room before planning out the thorough scrubbing that needed to be done in order for the apartment to even start to look livable let alone attractive to the eye.
You had to admit that you were in a time crunch to get the room cleaned up, Darcy let it slip to both you and Nat that Clint would arrive in week and a half.
"We've been breaking our backs for two weeks and now you tell us that!" You snapped at her falling on your back breathing heavily after pushing and pulling at the new couch to be juuuuuust right where it needs to be.
"Oops..."
You and Nat gave a scoff and unanimously decided to plow on through to finish up the living room as fast as they could (stupid too large space) not to mention they still needed to haul in the beds and bedside tables for the bedrooms and what other things the kids' rooms would need.
You and Nat managed, with Darcy's "management", and help from the others with the last things that needed to be done. Food for the little kitchenette, soaps and personal hygiene products and so on. You made sure that the bedrooms smelt good as well as had a wild flower arrangement in it as well as other light decoration for them to not look empty but also allow the new owners the freedom to decorate to their heart's desire.
"And we are officially done!" You cheered as you plopped yourself onto the sofa with a relieved sigh.
Nat gave you an equally tired nod and Darcy kept her mouth shut knowing that all she did, mostly, was "boss" everyone around so settled for nodding and giving them a thumbs up at a job well done in almost no time given. Granted they can rest for the next two days, given no bad guys do anything, and prep for the mental turmoil that will be Tony running on an emotional high due to his and Steve's upcoming honeymoon.
The day Clint was due to arrive, you were taking it more than a little easy. No bad guys had done anything, Tony and Steve were finally on their honeymoon and Darcy was off trying to get her mark-mate out of the lab long enough for him to eat. You lay on the overtly fluffy, yet super comfortable, sofa of the media room watching (y/fave/chill film) before you heard the delighted screeching of children going in as well as the hottest man you've ever seen. Granted you'd seen pictures of Clint from Tash but seeing the real thing is certainly something else....its sooo much better.
You pretended not to see him and followed the line of the character in the film.
"Aren't you an angle my dear," you gave a small giggle at that when the woman rolled her eyes at the failed flirting attempt.
You froze when from behind you you heard, "I'm quite the angel if you pay no mind to the horns."
You looked up to see Clint smirking down at you and felt your mark hum in pleasure as it's words were said to you.
"Black Feather but you can call me (Y/N)," you said hoping you sounded calm instead of the puddle you were fighting on becoming.
He gasped and looked to his right arm where your words were before he gave you a gentle smile.
"Hawkeye...but you can call me whatever you want," he smirk before sitting beside you on the sofa to finish the movie in sweet comfort and silence.
Things weren't going to be easy but you'd make sure to roll with the punches as they came. As long as you and he were one...anything and everything is possible.
//~//
If anyone wants to be tagged any or all marvel stories hit my inbox!! Same goes for requests everyone!!!
//~//
Tag List: @deepestfirefun, @queensdivas, @buckyscrystalqueen, @bowieandqueen11, @brianandthemays, @disasterdeacy, @fandomgalcentral, @queenattheopera
#clint barton#tony stark#steve rogers#darcy lewis#natasha romanoff#colossus#bruce banner#Thor#Jane foster#wade wilson#pepper potts#marvel MCU#marvel mcu imagine#marvel imagine#x-men#avengers
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Oh can you do a boxing fic? Please! I can picture a sweaty Killian boxing and showing off for his girl and a bunch of pre and post boxing celebratory kisses?!
HELLO ANON, THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY INBOX FOR WEEKS AND I AM SORRY FOR THAT. AS REPAYMENT, HERE ARE QUITE A NUMBER OF WORDS WHERE EMMA AND KILLIAN’S FRIENDS TOTALLY WANT EMMA AND KILLIAN TO DATE, BUT EMMA AND KILLIAN CAN’T BELIEVE THEIR FRIENDS HAVEN’T NOTICED THEY ALREADY ARE. JUST LIKE...WITH BOXING.
Also on Ao3 because this also got pretty long. I don’t know, guys.
The hospital lights are giving her a headache.
They’re bright and abrasive and everything smells like disinfectant, which, honestly Emma figures is probably a good sign regarding the cleanliness of this hospital, but she’s far too worried about everything else to be worried about that.
She’s not even sure if she’s supposed to be worried about that.
This was not part of the plan.
At all.
There was no plan.
At all.
“We should be back there,” David hisses, not for the first time and it’s an absolutely horrible attempt at keeping his voice down.
Emma licks her lips, ignoring Mary Margaret’s furtive glances. Mary Margaret keeps glancing at her. Emma’s tongue is going to dry out.
That’s the single worst thing she’s ever thought.
“We can’t get back there yet,” Ariel says reasonably, slumped in one of the waiting room chairs with her legs stretched out in front of her. She mutters a rather pointed curse under her breath when Will nearly trips over her feet. “Well, watch where you’re going then.”
“I didn’t actually say anything,” Will points out. “And the Detective is right. We should—“
“—We can’t. You know that. David knows that. They’re doing tests or making sure he’s not concussed or whatever.”
“He’s definitely concussed,” David mumbles, and Emma’s stomach gives an uncomfortable lurch. Mary Margaret is still staring at her.
Ariel, somehow, slumps even further down. It ends with her kicking Will in the the ankle, a growl on his lips and he’s a blur of movement and Jones-branded clothing, ducking down to grab her legs and swing them over his when he sits down. “Don’t move,” he commands, but the words ring a little hollow when it’s clear how worried he is.
It’s definitely a concussion. At best. Or worst. Emma has lost her grip on the English language.
Ariel sticks her tongue out. “Do you think we should call someone?”
“Like who?”
“Everyone he knows is here,” David chuckles, drifting closer to Mary Margaret like there are magnets involved. Or love. Definitely love. “It’s—well, if we were he's emergency contact, we would have gotten called already. Right?”
Will shrugs. “He’s been in there for awhile.”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
Emma hasn’t really been paying attention, far too preoccupied with the less-than-encouraging placement of her stomach in regards to the rest of her internal organs and how much she absolutely hates the lighting in that hospital, wondering if her worry is too big or too meaningful, and she’s so caught up in her own thoughts that she almost doesn’t notice her phone ringing in her pocket.
It doesn’t matter. Her friends do. Loudly.
“Em,” Mary Margaret says, nodding towards the buzz lingering around Emma’s right thigh. “You’re…your phone is ringing.”
She must nod. She’s sure she nods. She hopes she nods. She does, at least, tug her phone out of her pocket, arm heavy when she pulls the stupid, still-ringing piece of technology to her ear and Emma’s voice scratches its way out of her throat.
It’s more abrasive than the hospital lighting.
“Hello?”
Her voice shakes. It’s the worst.
“Emma Swan?”
“Yuh huh.”
“This is Belle French from NYC Health and Hospitals in Coney Island. I’m calling because Killian Jones listed you as his emergency contact. Unfortunately I have to tell you that Mr. Jones has been admitted here after sustaining some injuries during his fight and—“
“—Is he concussed?” Emma interrupts, well aware of the four sets of matching and equally wide eyes that stare at her. Ariel curses when Will grips her legs too tightly.
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that over the phone, but if you’d be able to—“
“—I’m here.” Emma should stop interrupting Belle French. It’s rude. “Um, sorry. I’m just—well, I’m standing in the waiting room. Currently.”
“Oh,” Belle says, a note of genuine surprise there and Emma can’t blame her. It’s reflected on each of her friend’s faces as well. “Well, that’s…efficient.”
“Yeah, that’s me for sure. Does this mean I can come back there?”
“Can we go back there?” Will asks sharply, Emma waving him off.
Belle makes a noise on the other end of the phone. “Give us a few more moments. The doctor is still with Mr. Jones, but I’m sure he’ll want to see you soon.”
“The doctor?”
“Mr. Jones. He’s been asking for you.”
Emma’s stomach flies into her throat. “Ok,” she says, quieter than she wants and more emotional than she probably should be, but the punch had landed and she’d definitely gasped and—“Ok,” she repeats. “I’ll be here.”
“Good.”
The phone feels impossibly heavy in Emma’s hand, weighing her down and somehow making her head ache even more. They’re all still looking at her. Mary Margaret’s shoes squeak when she takes a step forward.
It was raining out.
Figures.
“Emma,” Mary Margaret says, stretching her name out into an impossibly long string of syllables. “What’s going on?”
**
“Ariel, listen, I don’t care how much you think we’ll get along, I don’t want—“
“—I have no idea if you’re actually going to get along. I’m cautiously optimistic and I just think it could be interesting.”
Emma glares, eyes thin enough that it’s difficult to make out the self-satisfied smile on Ariel’s face. “I’m not interested in being your science experiment either.”
“That’s not what this is,” Mary Margaret promises, but that’s exactly what it is because this is far from the first time something like this has happened.
“Gimme that.” Emma leans forward, grabbing whatever it was Mary Margaret had been drinking and the alcohol stings the back of her throat. “What is this guy’s name? And, like, his life story?”
“I promise it’s far more interesting than you’re expecting.”
Emma spins on the spot – nearly falling off the stool in the process and her eyes widen. He grins at her.
That’s the first thing she notices.
It’s calm and easy, a quiet sense of self confidence that’s attractive and a little disarming and he steps into her space almost immediately.
She doesn’t move. That may be a first.
“That so?” Emma asks, doing her best to stay casual when it feels like her heart is about to beat its way out of her chest.
The smile widens. And his hair drifts towards his brows when he nods. “Decidedly.”
“Huh.”
“That’s not quite the rapt audience I was hoping for.”
Emma chuckles, downing the rest of a drink that isn’t hers. “I guess you’re just going to have to win me over or something.”
He does – although she certainly makes him work for it. His name is Killian Jones, freshly moved to New York a few weeks earlier. He’s a boxer.
“Is that still allowed?” Emma asks, drifting towards the edge of her stool. She keeps doing that, flinching when she realizes she’s about to fall over again, and she’s got a sneaky suspicion it’s because she’s trying to get closer to Killian, but that’s a great, big thought in a great, big moment and Ariel is going to be insufferable if she realizes this set-up worked.
It might have worked.
Definitely.
“Otherwise this has been a very long con,” Killian drawls over the top of his own glass. “That would be disappointing after I signed a lease.”
“A full year?” He hums. “Yeah, I doubt you could get out of that.”
“Exactly. And why fight that when I’m so interested in several other fights?”
“That was funny.”
Killian beams. “It happens from time to time. And what do you do, Swan?”
She tells him – NYPD with David, some childhood dream of doing good and “to serve and protect, right?” he asks with a quirk of his eyebrows that seems to almost immediately brand itself on every inch of her brain. It’s how she met Mary Margaret and, by extension, Ariel, both teachers at the same public school and they’re a group and maybe a family and he tells her things right back.
He’s been fighting for years, “stumbled into it by accident, honestly” after joining the Navy at eighteen and “New York’s always been the goal, or so my manager will tell you.”
His manager’s name is Will Scarlet. He lives in the same building with the year-long lease.
They talk. They drink. They get irrationally competitive about trivia at the bar.
“That is just fundamentally wrong,” Emma shouts, leaning across the table they’ve commandeered in the corner. "Midichlorians aren’t an actual energy field!”
Killian shakes his head. “The Force is an energy field. Obi-Wan says so!”
“Oh my God,” Ariel grumbles, dropping her head onto her forearms like this is embarrassing. It kind of is. People are murmuring.
“Midichlorians are inside humans,” Emma argues. She doesn’t remember standing up. And Killian’s whatever, it’s a smirk, it’s totally a smirk, is very distracting. “That’s how they measure it in Anakin.”
“Are you counting the Phantom Menace as canon?”
“How are you not?”
“Because that’s just fundamentally wrong, Swan.”
“It’s a movie! It’s part of the lore!”
“Are we still talking about this one trivia question?” Mary Margaret asks, making a face when both Emma and Killian snap yes in tandem.
Killian’s mouth twists, which only proves how much Emma is staring at his mouth. “The existence of midichlorians directly contradictions the explanation of the Force in the original trilogy,” he grumbles. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“You sound like an internet fan boy,” Emma accuses. “And that was not the question. The question was just ‘what are midichlorians.’ The answer is human cells in a human person—“
“—What about Jedi that aren’t humans? Are you suggesting Yoda is secretly a human?”
“Oh my God.”
The smirk is back. And they’ve officially run out of time to answer the question.
“You guys are banned from trivia,” David announces, hours later after more vaguely petty arguments and far too much alcohol when Emma has to be at the station at ten tomorrow morning.
She rolls her eyes. “Somehow I think I’ll survive.”
“Yeah, tell me that when you’re upset at missing out on our inevitable glory next week.”
Emma makes a noise in the back of her throat, shrugging into her jacket and Killian’s lingering in her space, that same quiet presence that’s laced with a hint of something she hopes matches up with hers.
“You want to get some coffee or something?” he asks, as soon as everyone else is out of range.
“Yeah, ok.”
She’s nearly twenty minutes late to her shift the next day, the ends of her hair still damp from a shower that isn’t hers and David smiles as soon she drops into her chair.
***
They have every intention of telling their friends. Really. They do.
It just…never comes up.
And both Ariel and Mary Margaret are already in mourning for another set-up that “clearly didn’t work” as soon as Emma walks into the coffee place two blocks away from school.
“I really thought you guys would hit it off,” Ariel shrugs, tugging apart a croissant with a bit more force than necessary. “I didn’t factor in your mutual nerd’ness.”
Emma arches an eyebrow. “Is that an insult?”
“Didn’t it sound that way?”
“She means she thought you would have been able to bond over that, instead of argue over it,” Mary Margaret corrects.
Ariel shakes her head. “No, I did not.”
“I know you didn’t,” Emma promises. There’s not enough sugar in her coffee. “I should probably be more offended by that, right?”
Ariels shrugs again. “Depends on what you say to this, I guess.”
“This being?”
Her phone dings. She typed her number in his phone herself. After he made her breakfast.
He made her breakfast.
“How often Killian will probably be around,” Ariel continues, eyes flitting nervously towards Mary Margaret.
The word ewok was never actually said in the original trilogy.
I think that’s a lie.
Nope, not once. Only in the credits.
I really don’t believe you at all.
Well, that’s disheartening, but it just means one thing.
Which is?
We’ve got to watch the original trilogy now. And you can tell me how much more I know about the Star Wars universe than you do.
Emma nearly spits out her coffee. Ariel’s breath catches, which kind of makes Emma feel guilty, but her friends area also making assumptions and setting her up and—
Her phone makes more noise
What do you say, Swan? Is it a date?
“Em,” Ariel prompts. “Is that—I mean, he doesn’t really know anyone else and he’s got a fight in a couple of weeks. I know, well, he isn’t normal and some sci-fi know-it-all…”
“It’s fine” Emma promises. “And technically Star Wars is really more epic fantasy, just set in space. So, you know…”
Yeah. It’s a date.
***
“That is distracting.”
“Hmm, that might be the point.”
Killian doesn’t look away from the tablet in his hand, film he’s supposed to be watching in prep for tomorrow’s bought. Emma’s pretty sure that’s the technical term. She’s learned some of the technical terms.
“Might be?” he echoes. He shifts when she drags her lips across the curve of his jaw, tracing a line of stubble that regularly and consistently distracts her when she thinks about it too much.
“Pleading the fifth.”
“I don’t think that’s how that works, love.”
It’s not the first time he’s called her that – it’s a thing, she’s come to realize, like watching film of some boxer from Alabama he’s totally going to knock out tomorrow night – but it never fails to make her pulse beat a little more erratically than usual. It’s nice. It’s good. It’s great, even.
It’s still a goddamn secret.
“Should he be jumping around that much?” Emma asks, nodding at the fighter on the screen when he dodges an uppercut.
“He’s not jumping, Swan. He’s making a move.”
“And the move is?”
“To not get hit.”
“Seems kind of strange in a sport so devoted to hitting.”
Killian laughs, tugging her closer to his side until Emma doesn’t have any choice except to swing her legs over his. Or so she tells herself. They should tell someone. Eventually.
It’s kind of become something of a game though, wondering how long it will take their friends to realize that Emma and Killian keep spending the majority of their free time together.
“Boxing is not devoted to hitting,” Killian argues. He’s moving his hand again, fingers drawing absent-minded patterns across Emma’s back and in between her shoulder blades, carding through the ends of her hair.
“I really don’t know if you’re doing it right then.”
“That’s not what I said at all. I’m going to try and hit Chafur tomorrow, but it’s a lot more than brute strength.”
“So says you.”
“It is,” Killian promises, but his voice gets a little strained and decidedly distracted and it might have to do with whatever Emma’s doing just behind his right ear. “Swan, I can’t think when you do that.”
“That is the point. How many rounds you think you’re going to go?”
“No more than five.”
She lets out a low whistle. “That’s awfully confident.”
“You watching this guy? His whole game is to dodge. No attack in him at all.”
“And you think you’re going to do that? Attack?”
Killian nods, brushing a kiss to the top of her hair. “Several very impressive newspaper articles would inform you that I tend to do that quite often in the ring.”
“Newspapers are a dying industry.”
It gets him to laugh again. “Fair,” he agrees. “But that’s not the point. The point is that I’m going in with a plan, love. I’m going to—“
“—Attack?”
She leans back, only a little frustrated because she’s more than a little worried and they might not have told anyone, but Killian has done a fairly admirable job of working his way into the very center of her life very quickly.
A well-calculated attack. But with less punches. And more…kisses. And not really the word attack.
So, nothing like that at all.
“Mary Margaret texted me today,” Killian says, not at all what Emma expects. She blinks. “She’s uh—she asked if she could get another comp ticket to the match.”
“Is it match or bought?”
“Interchangeable. You don’t want to know why?”
Emma shakes her head. Because she knows why. “Is she a teacher too?”
“Yeah,” Killian nods. “Her name’s Aurora. And she’s very nice. And apparently likes to wear cardigans to school. And Mary Margaret thinks it’d be a good step to—“
“—To?”
“Not be hung up on you so much anymore.”
Emma’s jaw drops. She expected that even less. Killian’s whole body shakes when he laughs, a quick kiss pressed to her cheek and another to the edge of her mouth. “Are you?” she asks, barely able to get the words out before Killian finally lands on her actual mouth and she hopes they don’t ruin the tablet.
That would annoy Will.
“Hung up on you?”
Emma makes a noise, not quite the confident, vaguely-flirty one she wanted, but it gets Killian to smile and his eyes to do that flashy thing they do when he stares at her a very particular way and if this is an attack, she’s more than willing to lower her fortifications or however the metaphor should work. Something about blocking, she’s sure.
“Absolutely,” Killian says, but it’s drifting closer to a growl and they don’t watch much more of the film.
***
Aurora is nice. And perceptive. Incredibly perceptive.
It only takes one gasp out of Emma in the third round for her to realize.
“Are you dating him?”
Emma’s eyes bug. That’s kind of an answer. It’s definitely an answer. “Yeah,” she breathes. “For, like…weeks.”
“And your friends don’t know that?”
“Yeah I’m not really sure how that happened.”
Aurora scoffs, but it almost sounds amused. “I’m actually kind of glad. He didn’t seem very interested in saying many things to me before he—what would you call it? Get on stage?”
“In the ring.”
“Ah, see you know.”
Emma’s stomach flips. And flops. “Yeah, I do.”
He wins in four rounds, arm flung into the air by a referee and there’s a smile on his face when his eyes scan the crowd. Aurora laughs again.
And Killian winks as soon as his gaze lands on Emma.
She waits until their friends have moved – Mary Margaret apologizing to Aurora because this set-up didn’t work either – taking a step into Killian’s space. He hasn’t actually put a shirt on yet, a belt hanging over his shoulder.
“You want to make fun of Phantom Menace with me later?”
He barks out a laugh, smile wide and bright and Emma nearly yelps when he all but yanks her against his chest, kissing her hard and heady and it’s so goddamn right, she can’t believe they haven’t shouted it from several rooftops yet.
The Empire State Building was, like, built for feelings like this.
“I’d love that,” Killian says against her mouth. “Give me some to talk to that dying industry, ok?”
“Yeah, ok.”
They barely make it past Naboo before they’re kissing on his couch and taking clothes off and Emma smiles when she pads into the bathroom hours later to find bottles of her shampoo sitting in the shower.
She doesn’t go home that night.
***
“Emma has a boyfriend.”
Several people nearly choke on several different types of alcohol and Ruby looks especially smug at the table that should probably have their name on it now. It’s trivia night.
Emma and Killian have already argued about Harry Potter on three different occasions.
“What?” David balks, gaping at Emma like she’s a totally different person. “Since when?”
Ruby shrugs. “For awhile now, I think.”
“You think,” Emma says. It takes everything in her to keep her voice steady, Killian’s hand drifting over her thigh under the table.
“You’ve been spending less and less time at home. You’re never around. I’m not a cop, but I think I can put two and two together.”
“But Emma doesn’t know anyone,” Mary Margaret objects, mouth dropping when she realizes what she’s said. Killian squeezes Emma’s thigh. “Ok, that’s not what I meant,” Mary Margaret continues. “I just—“
“What’s his name?” Ariel cuts in. “It’s a he, right?”
Emma nods. Killian’s fingers are tapping out a rhythm against her leg now.
“Is it serious?” David presses. “You wouldn’t stay at some guy’s apartment if it wasn’t serious.”
Emma’s pulse speeds up. Or maybe slows down. Whatever it is, it doesn’t feel very human.
“Looks serious,” Will mumbles over the top of his glass. His eyes flit towards Killian, like he’s waiting for the inevitable breakdown. There’s nothing.
“I don’t know,” Ariel objects. “If it were serious, we’d—“
“It’s serious,” Emma says, quick and far too loud and Killian’s hand tightens to a vice-like grip. “It, well—it could be serious. I think.”
He doesn’t move his hand.
“So, uh,” Emma sputters. “I’m going to get some air.”
She doesn’t run out of the bar – which is a metaphorical TKO on the very first punch, but it’s pretty damn close, warmer-than-usual air greeting her on Chambers Street. And she doesn’t want to hope he’ll follow her, but she’s drifting dangerously close to living in hope and he’s got a title defense in a couple of days.
The door slams behind him.
“Serious, huh?” Killian asks, half a smirk and his tongue pressed into the corner of his mouth.
Emma shrugs. “I mean—you bought shampoo.”
“It smells good.”
“Is that weird?”
“That I think your shampoo smells good or that I’d like you to continue smelling good around me for the foreseeable future?”
“Either or.”
“Eh, maybe a little bit of both.” His hands land on her hips when he takes a step forward, close enough that it takes some twisting for Emma to rest her palms on his chest. “They’ll figure it out eventually.”
“I have no idea how they haven’t already. Have we been too subtle?”
“We could start making out in this alley and see if that sticks?”
Emma’s laugh barely has a chance to linger in the air before she’s pushing up on her toes, arms slung around Killian’s neck and that tongue thing he does is almost as potent as his left hook.
“It’s serious,” he whispers, and Emma files that away, covets the words like her own championship belt. And that’s only kind of absurd, but they’ve been secretly dating without even trying and the whole thing is absolutely ridiculous.
“You want to get out of here?”
“Very much so.”
She doesn’t go home that night either.
***
“You’ll be careful, right?”
It’s still early – sun just creeping in through the curtains in Killian’s room, but he’s got a full day of press and pre-match workouts and it takes forever to get from Manhattan to Coney Island in the summer.
“As careful as I can be when someone’s trying to punch me in the face.”
“I thought it was about more than just punching,” Emma says, propping her head on her hand.
Killian grins, flipping his head which only serves to make his hair shift and that’s hardly playing fair at all. “I’m not sure this guy has gotten that particular memo yet, love. Everything Scarlet’s shown me makes it seem like he goes for the kidneys a lot.”
“Isn’t that against the rules?”
“Eh.”
“Eh?”
“Eh,” Killian says again. “It’ll be fine, Swan. I’ve just got to get to him first.”
“Easy.”
“Well, you’ll be there right? Got to impress.”
Emma rolls her eyes, but they both know he’s right. He’s constantly trying to impress. And she consistently is. “Idiot,” she mumbles anyway, flopping back against his chest when he pulls on her arm. “With ridiculous brute strength.”
“Yeah, that’s definitely my calling card. Heavy-weight champion of the world.”
“In this corner…”
“Getting ready to make out with his girlfriend…”
“Just make out?”
He definitely growls. It’s stupid how attractive it is.
And it’s even more stupid how loudly Emma gasps as soon as the first hit lands – straight to the side of his head and it’s not the kidney punch Will had promised. It’s aggressive and maybe a little evil, quick jabs that land every single time until Killian’s stumbling backwards and the referee is calling for both fighters to return to their corners.
They don’t.
The hits keep coming and landing, each one louder than the last, but that may just be Emma’s pulse pounding in between her ears. Her eyes go dry from staring, breathing turning ragged as she tries to remember how important oxygen is to maintain consciousness.
Killian’s steps falter again, doing his best to keep his hands lifted by his ears. It doesn’t work. The guy Emma can’t remember the name of keeps swinging and hitting and the bell rings as soon as Killian’s knees crash onto the ring floor.
She gasps again.
And David curses. Loudly. Mary Margaret might be crying. Ariel is screaming.
“C’mon,” David says, wrapping his fingers around Emma’s and tugging her towards the hallway they left before the spot, reserved for friends and family. She assumes secret girlfriends aren’t included in that.
She doesn’t stumble when she starts to walk.
***
“Em,” Will says, still sitting in chairs that can’t possibly be comfortable. “Who was that?”
Emma swallows before she answers. “The nurse. Belle French.”
“Was her name important?”
“I mean—probably not, but—“
“Ms. Swan?”
She spins on the spot, nearly taking out David in the process and she hadn’t realized he’d moved towards her at some point. The doctor smiles what she assumes is supposed to be a comforting look. “Hi,” Emma mutters. “I’m uh—well, you know who I am.”
The doctor keeps smiling. “I do. And Mr. Jones is out of testing.”
“Is he ok?”
“Concussed, but awake and cognizant and, uh, asking about you. Again.”
Emma’s heart swells. That’s gross. “Can I see him?”
“Can we see him?” Will corrects, hissing when Ariel pinches his side. The doctor nods.
“For a few minutes at least. We’re you planning on staying for some time, Ms. Swan?”
The room is spinning, lights absolutely getting brighter, but Emma feels herself nod again and there wasn’t much of a decision to be made. “Yeah. I’m—I’m not going anyway.”
"Good. Mr. Jones is at the end of the hall.”
She doesn’t run, again, but it’s close, again, feet moving as quickly as her heart and the pounding in her forehead. He’s in bed when she skids to a stop, far too many wires and beeping machines, but his eyes find hers almost immediately and Emma sighs.
Again.
It’s relief that time.
Killian smiles at her. "Not quite my most impressive moment, huh?"
"Ah, I don't know about that."
"Did I fall gracefully?"
"God, I hate you," Emma grumbles, a lie that's worse than anything they haven't told their friends. Killian's lips twitch. "A nurse called me to tell me that you were here. Because I'm your emergency contact."
"Yeah. They, uh—well..." He doesn't finish the thought, doesn't really have to, and Emma's smile feels equal parts unnatural and as normal as breathing. She's only recently just started breathing. “You ok?”
“You’re asking me that?”
“Eh,” Killian shrugs, shifting his arm so he can curl a finger towards her. Emma scowls. “It happened very quickly for me. One knock and it was all over.”
“Yeah, that’s not how I remember it at all.”
“C’mere, love.”
“You’re concussed.”
“Am I? No one’s actually told me that.”
“Killian.”
“Emma.”
She huffs, but it’s not frustration, it’s unspoken everything and the smell of her own shampoo when her hair falls over her shoulder, and taking these few steps forward isn’t much of a decision either.
And, honestly, it’s a miracle no one figured it out before.
So, naturally, the whole lot of them stop in the doorway as soon as Emma sinks onto the edge of Killian’s hospital bed, letting his arm wrap around her when she tilts her head up. To kiss her. With witnesses.
“What the hell is this?” Will shouts, and Ariel’s words are more just general screeching. They’re going to get yelled at by the hospital staff.
Maybe for the kissing.
It can’t be good for Killian’s blood pressure or whatever.
Mary Margaret may still be crying.
“Oh my God, Ruby is going to be so mad she missed this,” David mumbles, working a laugh out of Killian and something resembling a guffaw out of Emma.
“That’s only because you owe her twenty bucks now,” Will says. Emma makes that noise again.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Ok, don’t act offended, you guys were lying to us this whole time. Hey, Hook, glad you’re not dead.”
“He was way more worried than he's acting,” Ariel promises. "It's a defense mechanism."
“Well, I’m also glad I’m not dead, so we’re kind of on even ground,” Killian says. He kisses Emma’s cheek when she turns on him. Mary Margaret definitely sniffles. “And it wasn’t really lying.”
“How you figure?” David asks.
“You guys all thought I was hung up on Emma and, you know, you weren’t really wrong.”
Ariel throws her whole head back when she laughs, leaning back against Will’s chest so she doesn’t fall over. He hooks his chin over her shoulder, studying both Emma and Killian critically.
“Emma said she was dating someone who might have been serious.”
“That kind of sounds like an accusation,” Emma points out.
“It kind of was.”
“Well, it kind of might be.”
“Is,” Killian corrects softly, another kiss that makes Emma shiver slightly.
Mary Margaret wipes her hand under her eye. “Is? As in currently.”
“Yeah,” Emma whispers. She moves again, twisting so her legs on the bed are pressed up against Killian’s and there’s always shampoo in the shower. “Currently.”
“But you didn’t say anything!”
“Trust me, it wasn’t for lack of trying.”
“And then it got to be so long it almost would have been weirder if we brought it up,” Killian says. “It was more fun just seeing how long it would take you guys to realize.”
“We weren’t really being secretive about it,” Emma adds. “Trust me, Ruby’s been going on about it for weeks. I haven’t been trying to hide that I’m pretty all in on this.”
She doesn’t mean to say it. But, then again, she didn’t mean to be in a secret relationship for the last four months and she certainly didn’t mean for her friends to find out about said relationship this particular way, so, really, this should not be much of a surprise.
Killian’s incredibly tense body suggests otherwise.
“Swan,” he mutters, Emma’s teeth digging into her lower lip.
She turns slowly, jutting her chin out in something almost close to relationship defiance. But then she sees the look on his face – that same quiet hope from the very first time she saw him mixed with a hint of the hope she’s been clinging to for months and how much she wants and—
“I love you,” she says, before she can lose her nerve. Mary Margaret sniffles again. “Just—I do. And it’s been easy to and simple too, which, is the exact opposite of anything I ever expected from an Ariel and Mary Margaret set-up, but…” Emma exhales. Killian doesn’t blink. “I was so worried about you.”
He doesn’t move away from her when he lifts his hand, brushing his thumb over her cheek and there are tears that. That should probably be embarrassing. It’s kind of nice.
And, honestly, she expects the kiss. Is ready for it. Wants it. Quite possibly needs it. But it still manages to make Emma’s stomach twist and her heart leap into her throat and there are several whoops from the peanut gallery.
“I love you,” Killian says, nothing extra, no add-ons or unnecessary punches pulled. Just there. Honest and truthful and in front of everyone. “I’m sorry you were worried.”
“Win the next one and we’ll call it even.”
“God,” David groans. “Is this how it’s going to be from now on?”
Emma shrugs. Killian doesn’t let her turn around. “This is how it’s been the whole time, you guys are just horribly unperceptive.”
“Plus,” Killian says, mostly into Emma’s hair. “You were here for true love declarations, so you know—“
Emma’s stomach is a biological marvel.
“True love, huh?”
“Doubts, Swan?”
“None,” she says, meaning it. Killian beams.
And David groans. Loudly. It’s louder when they tell Ruby, a quick exchange of money that she promises to brag about for the rest of time because I totally knew, but Emma barely pays attention, far too preoccupied with making sure Killian takes all his medicine exactly when Dr. Whale told her he had to.
He doesn’t argue. Much.
He argues less when she kisses him.
She keeps kissing him. In his apartment and her apartment and their apartment because, eventually, it doesn’t make much sense to be buying two bottles of the same shampoo. And, again, when he gets back in the ring, a win that goes the distance and requires a decision that Emma announces is obvious, but takes the judges a small eternity to decide on.
She runs into the ring, but Killian catches her around the waist, kissing her like he’s been waiting the whole match for her to get there.
It’s, well, perfect.
Plus, it’s harder to keep a relationship secret when there are cameras and newspapers documenting the evidence. Emma prints out the picture, hanging it on their fridge the next morning while Killian makes breakfast.
#cs ff#captain swan ff#captain swan#cs fic#captain swan fic#my quest to write CS fic for every sport continues#honestly#sorry this took ten thousand years anon#anonymous#laura rambles
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Twins || Harry Styles
MASTERLIST WHO I WRITE FOR
Your girl’s back from Prague and has a new imagine for you!!
This was my first ever request for Harry Styles and I’m extremely sorry, that it took so long, but I hope everyone enjoys it! :) I love Harry and you can’t imagine how bumped I was when I found out that he was not going to have a concert in Vienna :(
A massive ‘Thank you’ to @fangirlxslut for this lovely and fluffy ask per DM - I hope I didn’t let you down! :)
I have a lot of requests in my inbox at the moment, so I’m going to try to post more today and tomorrow, so I can keep up again and you won’t have to wait so long for your imagines :)
Request: Actually scratch that, just a plain Harry imagine😍um, one where she’s pregnant with twins and goes into labor unexpectedly and just cute baby fluff and harry fluff
Warning: Harry with babies is always a warning because he’s too cute
Pairing: Harry Styles x Female!Reader
Word Count: 3,673 words
By the way, this is like extremely long, I really hope you don’t mind :) please let me know - it is now my longest imagine!!!
Twins
Seven months ago, you got the official statement from your gynecologist
“Congratulations, in eight months you’ll be holding two babies in your arms!”
It scarred you. Harry and you have been married for half a year at that point and you had talked about having kids, of course, but to be expecting TWO so soon, had never been the plan. But your boyfriend being the most loving man you know, assured and comforted you with everything possible and made all your worries fly away.
Six months into your pregnancy, you really started getting worried about your body and weight. Self-consciousness overcame you and the feeling of being pretty and beautiful, like Harry, always told you, you were, was gone and got replaced with hating yourself and wanting to get rid of the growing belly. But your husband did not let you live that way. It was the start of more surprises than ever and spoiling you in all kinds of way – with love, kisses, presents, et cetera.
It all led up to that point.
You were laying in bed, just got up and saw the morning sun shining onto your king-sized bed. Harry was no longer next to you, but at the BBC’s Radio One Breakfast show, doing an interview with one of his best friends, the one and only Nick Grimshaw and future godfather to one of the twins, but he had no idea, yet. Harry actually didn’t want to do the interview that day, due to you being in your eighth month and he wanted to be able to help you 24/7, but you got him to do.
--- Three Weeks Before ---
Your husband was in the shower when his phone started ringing, while you were sitting in the living room, reading a new book you had bought two days before. The thought of just letting it ring, crossed your mind, but you decided against it and got up to grab it from the dining table, where he left it. When you reached it, the name ‘Nick’ and a picture of the Breakfast Show host’s, with a goofy look on his face, appeared on the display. You smiled before accepting the call
“Hello, Nick”, you greeted.
“Oh, (Y/N), hey love, I didn’t expect you to pick up. Where’s your husband at again?”, he asked very kindly with his accent.
He never failed to make you smile “He’s under the shower, anything I can deliver?”, “Well, you for sure as heck will be delivering two babies very soon”, he laughed ,”but could you please ask Harry, if he would like to hop over for an interview on Monday in three weeks?”
You knew Harry would say no, due to the state you were in, so you decided to take it into your own hands “Oh, I’m sure he’ll do it. He’s always happy to come over.”
Nick wasn’t to sure about your answer “Are you sure? Doesn’t he have anything else to do?”, “No, his schedule is completely free.”
To hear that made the man on the other end of the phone call very happy “Well then, thanks, babes. Don’t forget to tall him though and stay safe”, he had always cared a lot for you – you literally were like brother and sister, due to the both of you growing up, with your houses next to each other.
“I’ll tell him right when he comes out of the shower, don’t worry”, you didn’t hear the shower being turned off and the bathroom door opening and closing again “Alright, have a good day then”, “You too, bye.”
“What will you tell me”, the low voice of your husband behind you, standing in the doorway with sweatpants on and wet hair, made you jump
“Oh gosh, Harry! You don’t scare a pregnant lady like that”, your hand flew to your chest, where your heart was placed. He walked over to you and took you in his arms “Sorry, gorgeous”, he paused for a while “So, who was on the phone?”, Harry let go of you and went over to the couch of the living room, which was right next to the dining table.
You slowly followed him, not intending to sit down “Nick. He wanted to know if you would come onto the show on Monday in three weeks and I said yes.”
“Why did you say yes? You know I said that I wouldn’t do interviews for the time that you’re pregnant”, he wondered.
“Exactly because of that”, you pointed at him with the index finger of your right hand,”you can’t just not do interviews because I’m pregnant. I’m fine and I will be fine for an hour, or so, on my own.”
Harry was not impressed at first but gave in eventually.
After taking a seat next to him, the two of you started cuddling and watching TV. A couple minutes in a thought came to your mind, which you had been having for a while
“You know, I-I had an idea”, your voice grabbed his attention “Oh yeah? What?”, his eyes were still fixed on the telly in front of you. You rose your head from its position on Harry’s chest
“We thought about having Gemma as the godmother of one of the babies, but we still don’t have anyone for the other one”, before you could continue, your husband cut you off
“I thought she would be the godmother of both of them.”
You shook your head “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea”, “Alright, so who do think should it be?”, his head shortly turned towards you but was then fixed on the TV again.
“Nick.”
His gaze shot into your direction “Nick?”
You nodded “Yeah”, “Are you sure?”, he didn’t sound too convinced about your choice.
“Yeah, why not?”, the pitch of your voice rose a bit – you were slightly taken back by his reaction ,” I thought it would be a good idea. He’s like my brother and one of your best friends, I thought you’d be happy. I mean he is literally the reason why we’re now married”, that was true, because he introduced you to each other on one of his many parties.
Harry shortly thought about his answer “Mmm… yeah, I know, but… I don’t know, IF something happened to us, he would be ready to take care of a baby”, he sounded very unsure and scared of the thought – you had never heard his voice in that tone.
“But Harry, we’re not even ready probably. It was very sudden for us as well and Gemma is always travelling, but I know that she would be perfect and the same goes for Nick. He would drop everything for us and our future children or, sorry, one of our children.”
Harry kept his eyes on the floor, for the entire time of you talking, but then looked deeply into yours – his were slightly red and shimmered, making the sadness of the statement he made before, very clear now “If you think so, then I do to. Alright, then I’ll ask him after the interview.”
--- Back To Present ---
Your husband thought it would be a good idea to ask him afterwards, but yesterday he had an even better one – he would just ask him during the interview and catch his, hopefully positive, reaction on radio and camera. That’s why you had to get up quickly – it was 8.10 a.m. and Harry would ask him around 8.30, he said, so you were able to hear it as well. Your upper body rose from the bed, making you sit on the side with your feet touching the cold floor. There was a sudden stinging in your lower abdomen making you wince and grab it. It was a pain you had never felt before and it for sure was not comfortable.
“Oh no”, you thought out loud with an idea of what it could be.
‘It can’t be. It’s way too early’, your thought continued in your head.
After a couple more minutes of sitting on the bed and feeling the extreme pain, you were pretty sure that they were contractions. Your immediate thought came to calling Harry and letting him now, that you have to go to the hospital, which you did.
Your husband's voice rang through the phone after only two ringing sounds
“What’s wrong babe?”, his worry was able to be heard – ‘how on earth did he know something was wrong?’
“I think I have to go to the hospitals. Some sort of contractions started”, you winced in pain as another one hit you.
“What?! Are you sure?!”, “No Harry!! Of course, I’m not sure, for heck’s sake, I never had baby!”, your voice rose with rage.
He continued “Alright, alright, I’m coming, get ready, I’ll be right there.” And the line ended.
You knew Harry would be here in about twenty minutes if he hurried – the BBC Studios where about half an hour away from your shared house. After a couple of breaths, you got up and made your way to the closet to get some sweatpants. While changing, the packed “hospital bag” could be seen from your point of view, lying in the corner and suddenly you were happy, that your husband told you to pack it a week before “Just in case”, as he said.
You changed into sweats, and a tank top with a throw-on cardigan on top and were just about to leave the room when you forgot to take your phone from the nightstand. After grabbing it, you made your way downstairs to put some shoes on, so when Harry finally got here, you could just leave. You grabbed a pair of sneakers and took a seat on the stairs to put them on. Everything took a long time for you to do with the immense pain you were in, so shortly after you were completely dressed, the front door opened with a very quick move and a worried and stressed husband entered the hallway with his gaze immediately on your frame
“You ready, love? Where’s the bag?”, he questioned, “Upstairs”, you answered with a quiet voice while your head rested on the wall next to you. Harry quickly ran up the stairs, past you, to grab it and ran downstairs within seconds. Right when he reached the main floor again, he crouched down in front of you “Alrigh’, I’m gonna help you up and we’re gonna make our way to the car, slowly, yeah?”, which made you nod.
Still crouched down with your bag in his left hand, he came to your left side and put his right arm around your waist to support you while you tried to get up, putting your left arm around his shoulders.
The pain got worse by the minute.
You reached the car quite quickly and Harry helped you in, only to put the bag on the back seat, which already had two baby seats in it. He, as well, got in and started the car, always keeping an eye on you
“I knew it was a bad idea to do the interview today”, he muttered under his breath, but you didn’t want to answer.
He moved the car out of the driveway and speeded to the hospital.
--- About Half An Hour Later ---
You were laying in a hospital bed, which was placed inside a very pretty hospital room you got guided into by a lovely older nurse, attached by all kinds of monitors. The hospital gown already got put on you and Harry and you were waiting for the nurse to return, while he was holding your right hand and petting the top of your head, trying to comfort you in the best way possible
“It’s all gonna be fine. You’re fine, don’t worry”, he whispered in a smooth voice. You groaned and started holding onto his hand harder because of another contraction hitting your body.
Suddenly the door opened, and the older nurse entered the room with your midwife Rebecca, who you already got to know through your gynecologist and you really wanted her to deliver the babies, and a very young one, who looked like she just came from med school
“So, (Y/N), Harry, this is Amy and Sabrina, they’re here to help me and you today, ok? We’re gonna get through this together”, she was just as kind as you remembered her, which made you smile slightly and Harry gave her a warm and welcoming smile.Your midwife started reading off the chart, which she had been holding ever since she entered the room
“So, we have to look, how much you are dilated and why your water hasn’t broken yet”, she then looked up into your worried face “I know your only eight months in, but the contractions you’re currently having are definitely showing, that you will be delivering in a short amount of time”
You just nodded and grabbed your husband’s hand harder, due to another contraction.
Rebecca got a stool, which was at the end of the bed and rolled it over to be placed in front of you. She threw the sheets off your feet, to have a better view, and started the examination.
The young nurse, Amy, came up next to her, after the older woman made a hand gesture for her to approach her. She handed her the chart and started explaining
“OK, you’re seven, point five centimeters dilated and we will have to break your water because I don’t think it will on its own”, and Amy wrote everything down. She then got up next to you, to look at the heart-rate monitor next to the bed and wrote a lot down from there.
You got very worried and as if Harry could read your mind, he started asking the questions you had
“How much does she have to be dilated and aren’t the babies not ready yet?”, he was clearly just as worried as you were.
The midwife smiled at his question “She will have to be at ten centimeters and don’t worry, we’re keeping an eye on the twins with the monitor. Of course, they should stay in the womb for another month, but it happens every now and then, that they don’t stay for nine full months, but everything’s gonna be fine. They’ll just stay in the hospital for a little bit longer and then they're fine.”
He nodded “Thank you”, “Of course.”
--- Five Hours Later ---
You had been walking around for four hours, after getting your water broken and your contraction started to get to the point, where you physically couldn’t take it anymore. Rebecca was examing you again
“Alright everybody, we’re at ten centimeters. Ready?”, she asked excitedly.
You suddenly got very scared and shook your head “NO!”, your voice was full of fear, but Harry was right next to you and after nodding towards the nurses, to make them prepare everything for the birth, he turned to you again
“Babe, you’re ready, trust me. You’ll be great, a great mum. But before we can hold the little ones, you have to push them out, at first”, that made you both laugh “Those nurses will give their everything and it will all go perfectly fine, OK?”, you nodded very slowly.
The contractions were then coming within only a couple of seconds apart and you started to feel the urge to push but didn’t yet because no one told you to.Rebecca sat down in front you and held your feet, while Sabrina was preparing everything, and Amy was on your left side holding an oxygen mask. Harry had not left your side ever since you entered the hospital room and you were very thankful for that, but at that moment all you wanted to do, was to scratch his eyes out.
“Alright, everything’s ready. (Y/N) when you feel the next contraction coming, push!”, your midwife informed you and only shortly after you started pushing, due to another pain shooting through your body.
“Yes! Push a bit more!”, the older woman in front of you assured you.
After pushing you fell back onto the bed and Amy put the mask on your face, due to you not being able to breathe properly. Harry hated seeing you in so much pain and started kissing your temple while supporting your back because you leaned forward again and started to push again and screamed at the same time, but your husband wanted to tell you, how well you were doing
“You’re doing great gorgeous!”, but you were not having any of it
“UGH YOU WON’T EVER TOUCH ME EVER AGAIN STYLES”, your voice was full of rage and everyone, but you, laughed at your comment - Harry knew, you didn’t actually mean it.
“Come on (Y/N) one more push and you will have your first born!”, Rebecca tried to encourage you and it helped and within minutes you were able to hear the screams of your firstborn. Your body landed flat on the bed and you closed your eyes for a second to take everything in, while you could hear the midwife’s voice soothing the baby and Amy’s next to you
“It’s a boy, congrats!”, she cheered, and you turned your head towards Harry, only to see a tear leave his left eye. You reached out and wiped it away with your thumb – he took your hand and kissed the back of it, before leaning over to kiss your temple and whispered: “Thank you.”
Tears started to spill out of your eyes as well, but soon enough the next contraction hit you and you started pushing again.
Rebecca’s voice echoed through the room one last time during the delivery
“(Y/N) you got this, one more time! Push!”
You pushed as much as you possibly could with Harry and Amy soothing you with comforting words and a couple minutes later the second and last born’s crying could be heard, only to be followed by your husband’s cheers
“IT’S A GIRL! OH MY GOSH, A BABY GIRL!”, so many tears left his eyes and you couldn’t hold back anymore and just let them flow. Only a few seconds later Amy and Sabrina came over to the bed with each of the babies in their arms “Who wants whom?”, Sabrina asked and Harry rose his hand
“Can I hold the girl?”, he asked and got handed your baby girl while you got to hold your little boy.
The both of you were still crying and Harry was then kind of laying on the bed as well with his left arm around your body while holding the tiny baby with his right
“Hello, princess. She’s so beautiful, oh gosh, and so tiny”, he whispered very quietly.You were petting the small boy’s cheek with your index finger, making his lips curl u, which led to you spilling more tears – happy tears. Your husband leaned over to your ear and once more
“Thank you, gorgeous. You’re a true hero.”
--- The Following Day ---
Yesterday evening and today morning, a lot of phone calls were made, to your friends and family, and Nick, who got called an hour ago, immediately answered with “I’m on my way”, which made Harry and you laugh. You planned on asking Nick when he arrived and Harry was slowly getting nervous, pacing around the room
“What if he says no! What if he doesn’t want that much responsibility? What if h-“, but you cut him off, still laying in bed a bit exhausted
“He won’t say no. You and I both know that he will be more than just happy to be the godfather of one of them”, you tried to assure your anxious husband, who suddenly came to a stop and looked at you
“But of who? Darcy or Sam?” You named them yesterday, with him picking the girl’s name and you the boy’s.
“I think he should be the godfather of Darcy and Gemma should get Sam. Nick would love to have a goddaughter”, you decided, to which Harry agreed. He was about to say something when the door opened and Nick appeared with two balloons – one purple, one green, and a basket.
“Hey guys”, he tried scream-whispering, which made you laugh
“You can talk normally, they’re sleeping”, you answered him in a normal pitch and he walked in
“Oh OK, that would have been a bit annoying to talk like that the entire time”, his laugh was full of life and happiness.
The babies got brought to the room for two hours, for you to feed and friends and family to see them, only to be taken back to a special room for treatment, due to them being born too early.
Nick placed the basket and balloons on the love chair in the corner, got up to you, kissed your head, and went then to Harry, to hug him. Afterwards, he finally approached the little ones in their bed
“Oh my gosh, aren’t you the cutest things in the world”, he admired them.
Harry quickly glanced at you with raised eyebrows as if asking “Should I ask him now?” and you nodded.“Hey Nick, we…ehm thought about, you know… the kids – basically IF something happened to us, you know… Would you like to be Darcy’s godfather”, your husband stuttered – he was extremely nervous. The radio host’s head turned into your direction, then back to Harry, back to you, back to Harry, with a shocked expression
“What?! Are you serious??”, he sounded excited, and you nodded with a big smile on your face.Nick ran up to Harry and hugged him tightly
“Oh my freaking gosh, of course!”
Harry hugged him back, showing you a thumbs-up behind the other man’s back and you just smiled looking at them. Then your head turned towards you’re the small bed on the other side of the room to your left and your lips curved, even more, thinking about the journey you were just about to start.
Wow, that was a long one - I really hope you don’t mind.
Huge thank you again to @fangirlxslut for this cute request - I hope you and everyone else enjoyed it!! :)
Have a good day/night :)
#harry styles imagine#harry styles x reader#harrystylesxreader#harry styles imagines#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles x female!reader#harrstylesxfem!reader#harry styles masterlist#singer imagines#singer imagine#celebrity imagines#celebrity imagine#celebrities imagines#celebrity x reader#request#requests open#harry styles request
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1) I’ve been re-watching the Ultron/Break Up Arc and I have decided that there are some issues with Steve in that arc. So, we all know Steve is Tony’s biggest supporter and is always trying to boost his confidence and all that jazz. So to suddenly see him so against Tony’s leadership when Tony’s been reckless and thoughtless in the past seems a bit out of character, or at least a little strange considering everything that they’ve been through and all the reckless things Tony has done in the past
2) Also, I understand what Tony is supposed to learn while broken, don’t always be reckless and know when to ask for help, I got that. But I don’t really understand what Cap is supposed to learn, he played outside the rules when rules is exactly what he wanted. He complained about Tony’s leadership being disorganized and needing structure, and yet he defied orders and did what he felt was right rather than following orders like he wanted to. Tony’s Arc is very clear to me, but Steve’s isn’t.
Pre-emptive apology because this is probably going to be really rambly and go off-topic becuase I have a lot of feelings about this arc.
Ok, so first off, I don’t like this arc, and as a result I don’t really like to go rewatch it, so I might not be a strong on the details of these episode as I would be with others like, say, “The Age of Tony Stark” so, sorry about that too.
Actually getting to your first point, yes I find Steve’s leaving to be out of character, but for different reasons. Backing up a bit, the audience is really primed empathize with Tony’s desire to save Arsenal in this scene. Most episodes before this feature at the very least a cutaway to Tony working on Arsenal, and even some epsiodes that don’t like TAOTS further this by putting an emohasis on Tony’s relationship with Howard which is explicitly a reason Tony cares so much about Arsenal. Aditionally, the audience is presumably familiar with the tropes of “Robots and AI are equal to people,” and “I’m not going sacrifice my friend who is under some version of brainwashing/mind control.” All these added together means that audience is not surprised when Tony tries to avoid destroying Arsenal. This is standard hero fair. In fact one of my issues with this arc is that no one makes a connection to Bucky here since TWS falls under that latter trope and it kind of feels like Steve either is being a hypocrite or Steve doesn’t adhere to that first trope and considers Arsenal disposble, as if Tony just inherited a fancy watch from Howard, which would make sense if you consider Steve’s attitude in seaosn 3 when Ultron pulls this same trick but posesses Tony instead is different and he shows much more reluctance to attack Tony than he does in attacking arsenal, This would also further justify Steve’s anger and induce favorite Civil War trope, “GOD DAMN IT JUST TALK ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS” but wouldn’t mesh with the idea of Steve being an all around nice guy, especially given that Arsenal is generally adorable. It would be pretty hard to put Steve and Tony at equal moral footing if the writers had followed this idea to its fruition is what I’m saying, so I’ve basically just decided to let this point slide.
Getting back on track, since the audience is more likely to be on Tony’s side here, it can be easy to miss that TONY REALLY FUCKED UP. This isn’t like other times where he overestimated his skills or put more faith in his tech than his friends, Tony lied, knowing full well he wasn’t going sacrifice Arsenal, and explicitly betrayed Steve’s trust, and allowed Ultron to get away and cuase further damage that spreads into later seasons. In the scene where Steve quits there isn’t moral discussion, its Steve going “you FUCKING LIED TO ME” and Tony going “yeah, becuase I didn’t think you’d let me save Arsenal.” It’s not a moral discussion, it’s an accusation that’s accepted and then given an explanation.
WAIT A SECOND THIS IS THE FUCKING MINDWIPE WTF
The only part of that that’s out of character is that Steve doesn’t call Tony out in front of the rest of the team. The end of the second episode should have been here. Or really, the team shouldn’t split up at all, they should end up voting tobench Tony for the duration of the Ultron thing becuase he’s clearly compromised, Tony should go sulk in Malibu so we can see more of SI and maybe Pepper- and I’m getting off topic. I’m analyzing this not rewriting it. Anyway, this is why Tony’s lesson is so much clearer than Steve’s, Tony’s the one who actually has to learn a lesson. Arguably Steve’s episode is about him learning what Tony’s motivations are after interacting with the Russian Guys and seeing them go behind their superiors back to help a friend. I mean, there’s not really a clear throughline between those two things, or at least it wasn’t as obvious to me on a first viewing, and there isn’t really a resolution to it but it is a possibility.
The only thing here is, I’m wrong. Steve does have a lesson to learn. Sort of, I think. Bare with me now, so that second episode where the team officially breaks up? Before the big dramatic simulataneous break up of the show’s three main power couples, Steve brings LMD’s to a fight that he presumably strongly suspected Ultron was at. There’s no real indication that Fury or Hill or someone forced Steve to bring them. That leads to Ultron having an LMD that he can use to trick a trap Tony sets for him. We can infer that the trap would have worked on the actual Ultron and would have potentially allowed Tony to save Arsenal. Instead, Tony has to blow up the ENTIREY OF SI’s SYSTEMS becuase he caught the LMD, not the actual Ultron, allowing Ultron to infect the system.
Steve has pretty clearly fucked up here. Now, if Steve had brought the LMDs becuase he didn’t want to take the risk of going in alone or we’d seen Fury or Hill or Coulson say it’d be too risky to go in alone and Steve agreed, or if the thing was supposed to learn “let people take risks” becasue Tony’s risk using the SI system as bait would have worked if not for Steve’s actions then Steve would have had a lesson that paid off in the end of this arc when Steve tells Fury “taking a risk to save the world Tony does that 10 times before breakfast.” It would also be potentially reinforced by Steve’s episode because the Russian Guys take a risk to save their friends or something.
The only thing is, Steve never really gets called out for the LMD thing to the extent that Tony gets called out for the lying thing. Maybe this is because in Steve’s case it was honest mistake, except Tony calls him out on it twice, and Steve never counters with something along the lines of “I didn’t know Ultron was there,” or “the LMDs weren’t my choice it was a mistake, unlike when you chose to lie,” which would further highlight the severity of Tony’s actions in comparison to what he’s done in the past. Instead, when Tony calls him out on it, Steve goes “putting the blame on everyone but yourself, huh? Ultron wouldn’t even be here in the first place if you hadn’t lie,” which is flawed reasoning. It’s an Ad Hominen, Steve’s going “your argument is wrong becuase you did ‘x unrelated thing’” which doesn’t make him look good, it looks like he’s projecting. It in no way absolves Steve of guilt for the LMD thing that leads to Tony’s home and company being destroyed. Again this could have been intentional karmic punishment since Tony’s fuck up is more severe if we’re giving Stece the benefit of the doubt but I don’t think that properly telegraphed to the audience
None of this is helped by the fact the lesson in Steve’s episode is very muddled it isn’t clear what he’s getting from it at all. I can make arguments for an interpretation but I don’t think it’s as clear as with Tony.
I also kind of find the rules/ order vs chaos to be weird and out of place. As I hope I’ve adquately demonstrated, following rules doesn’t really factor into the initial conflict. It’s really more utilitarianism vs. kantianism. To me that aspect felt out of nowhere and superfluos.
Ok, I’m done. Hopefully I’ve answered your questions anon sorry it got really long. Hopefully it isn’t too rambly, I just feel like this arc has a lot of good elements and aspect that could have been explored or communicated better, and whenever I start talking about it, I kind of get all over the place.
And if anyone disagrees with my analysis, feel free to drop into my inbox. I like discussions and stuff as long as no one’s rude and accepts that everyone has different interpretations. This is just one 16 yo’s understanding of what’s going on.
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He used his brilliant mind, his superpower, >> to kill people. Tony is the biggest villain of the MCU. He is the Donald Trump of the MCU!!
Youcome into my inbox, you disrespect my man Tony Stark… and I could be angry with youbut, to be honest, your message made me very happy. Guys! The day has come! Igot an anon message telling me that Tony Stark is a villain and I am now officiallya member of the Tony Stark Defense Squad! So, even though it may be wiser toignore this message, I decided to celebrate by actually answering it.
“Heused his brilliant mind, his superpower, >> to kill people.”You quoted my post herebut you changed the ending. The result is quite ridiculous, if I may say. (Forthose who don’t want to read the post I linked, we’re talking about Ultron here).Look, English is not my mother tongue so forgive me if I’m wrong but I’m prettysure that the grammatical construction “to do something” implies an intentionbehind the action. If I go to the shop to buy an apple, I go there in order to buy an apple, with the intention of doing so. I’m sorry,are you a native English speaker? If you’re not, that could be an excuse, but youcan’t possibly think that Tony’sintention there was to kill people.What was Tony’s intention when he decided to create Ultron? (I’m not going tosay “when he created Ultron” because it would be a blatant Bruce Banner erasureand also Ultron kind of created himself, the AI was already in the stone andall. And we can’t forget about Wanda. Let’s not discuss it here). It’s veryclear in the movie. He did that to protect the Earth and everybody on it. Wandaplayed with his mind and we could see his fears: his friends dead and the Earthinvaded. He did what he did to preventthat from happening. He did it to protectpeople, not to kill them, anon, you can’t possiblyfight me on that, you just can’t.
“Tonyis the … villain of the MCU.”Now the second part of your message. It’s not less ridiculous, but far more oftenbelieved in than the first. It’s really weird that some people think Tony is avillain. Let’s check what the word “villain” means, shall we?villain - (in a film, novel, orplay) a character whose evil actions or motives are important to the plot (source)Now, I agree that Tony’s actions and motives are important to the plot but I’mafraid you missed the “evil” part of the definition.Tony has made some mistakes, yes. But is a mistake an “evil action”? Isn’t anintention to harm necessary for an action to be considered truly evil? I thinkthat the “evil action” and “evil motives” are connected. Creating Ultron was amistake but it was not an evil action, for it was done with a pure motive. Youcan point out Tony’s mistakes all you want (he’d gladly do that himself), butyou cannot question his motives. All this man does, he does to protect others.
Let’s take a look at the definition of the word“hero” now.hero - a person who is admired for their courage, outstanding achievements, ornoble qualities (source)If you’ve seen any of the movies you’ll have to agree that Tony has courage and,in fact, lots of it. There are more proofs of that than I am in the mood tocount right now. Just to name a few situations… escaping from that Afghanistancave, saving civilians from terrorists while being a civilian without anytraining himself, stopping a crazy guy with electric whips without a suit,chatting with Loki, fighting aliens, flying a nuke into a portal, going to killa terrorist with homemade weapons, being part of the Avengers who fight aliensand crazy robots on a daily basis… like okay I’m going to stop now but I hopeyou can see that Tony is no coward. A coward would never become Iron Man. Gosh,a coward would have built the JerichoMissile for the terrorists and died in that cave to begin with. Well, atleast you wouldn’t be calling him a villain now.
But Tony’s courage is even deeper than doing thosebrave deeds. It’s about falling and rising. It’s about getting out of that caveand changing his whole life for the better. It’s about realising the harmcaused by his weapons and shutting down the weapons division. It’s about beingbetrayed by people who were close to him but still choosing to trust others. It’sabout being told he’s not fit to be a hero but being a hero nonetheless, everyday. It’s about creating Ultron (yes, that) because he refused to stand back andlet everyone die. It’s about not curling in a ball and crying out of the agonyof remorse when Ultron went crazy, even though it would’ve been so much easierthan doing everything in his power to clean up that mess. It’s about going on,every day, even though he blames himself for everything bad that happens. It’sabout trying to make up for it, for all his mistakes, and for the mistakes ofothers.
On to the next part of the definition. I’ve already mentioned some “outstandingachievements” of his, like putting the nuke in that portal (which saved theManhattan and finished the fight) but let’s add saving of the president and havinghis part in creating Vision to the list. Well, it’s not the whole list,obviously. But the point is proven, so let’s move on.
Now, noble qualities. Let’s take the list from this site. There are so many of them that I’mgoing to be very brief on each, but if youwatched the movies, you’re going to know what I mean.
*sacrifice – taking the nuke through the wormhole*determination – he! gotta! save!*loyalty – coming back to the Avengers while not being on active duty when thingsgot rough, wanting to arrest others instead of letting killing squads deal withthem (yes, I’d call it loyalty, he could have just sit and watch you know?)*courage – already discussed*dedication – have you ever seen a more dedicated guy, like, have you seen himat work*bravery – may I remind you about the nuke and aliens and stuff*perseverance – get the image of him dragging his disabled suit in aforest through the snow*focused – he literally doesn’t sleep when he has a goal he wants toachieve*conviction – he believes in what he does, he wants to continue doing it*selfless – fighting for others while risking one’s life is hardly egoistic, Ithink it’s quite the opposite*gallantry – the definition on that site tells me it’s about fighting the danger“with high and cheerful spirit” and well, if it isn’t Tony Stark*fortitude – does refusing to make a Jericho for the terrorists count? yesI’m sorry but at the end of the list of qualities on that site was this: “Heroes are not born, they are made. Anyone of us can acquirethese heroic qualities and can be a hero” and well if it isn’t Tony Stark.Wouldn’t you agree that the word “hero” fitsTony far more accurately than the one you used to describe him? Surprise, surprise!Tony is actually a hero! Who would’ve thought, right?
But! You didn’t only call him a villain, didyou. You said “the biggest villain of the MCU”. One, Tony is not a villain.Two, there are many villains in the MCU, why must you insist that a hero is avillain if you have plenty of them already. Three, all of the villains did badthings, why do you think that Tony, a hero, is worse than them? Four, have you heardof Thanos? Wait for Infinity War and then tell me Tony is the biggest villainof the MCU, please. Not that Tony couldn’t be the biggest villain. I mean, ifhe only wanted to, he could. Thanos would look pathetic nextto him. The thing is, Tony is a good man with pure intentions. Luckily foreveryone.
“He is the Donald Trump of the MCU!!”Now this is something that bothers me a lot, and it’s not because of the reasonyou probably think. Just.. it’s clearly stated on my blog that I’m fromPoland. Why do you come into my inbox and compare a character to the presidentof the USA that I have near to no interest in? Why would you assume I think he’sthe biggest villain of our universe? It’s just… no? Why would you do this?I do know some things about Donald Trump though, mostly from tumblr. I knowthat some of the things that people have against him are his attitude towardsimmigrants and the way he handles healthcare. Well, as far as I can tell, Tonyhas nothing against immigrants. Take one example: he has nothing against WandaMaximoff. More than that, he’s trying to protect her from being deported. Thegirl is not a US citizen and she doesn’t have a visa. Not very Trump-y of Tony,right? As for the Trumpcare, I don’t know how it works. I guess that peoplehave lower taxes but have to pay for their healthcare?? Tony has numerousfoundations and funds everything always, so jot that down. I might be wrongabout this whole Trump thing but, like I said, I don’t know that much about it.Maybe next time think before you send someone who’s not from the USA amessage comparing someone to Donald Trump. As I see it: connections to DonaldTrump? None. Oh yeah, he’s a white rich male but I had no idea that makes you avillain.
So that’s that. What you said in your messageturned out to be untrue. Surprised? Did you think it wouldn’t? No but honestly,did you?
Did you expect me to agree with you? Did you expect me to be persuaded by yourzero (0) arguments? Really, what was yourpurpose here?
I have no idea what you wanted to achieve with that message, but I’ll tellyou what you did achieve. You got along post about why Tony is not a villain and why he is a hero. You got a post whichexplains to you why you’re wrong. Anon, doyou realise that? I’m talking to all the anti-Tony anons here. You are justgiving us all an excuse to produce long detailed posts about how amazing Tonyis. You are just giving us an excuse to write something other Tony fans, notyou, will enjoy. Do you realise how unwise that move of yours is? You’re notgoing to persuade us into thinking that Tony is a bad guy. If anything, it’s you who’s going to be persuaded. If that’sthe case, if you want to be persuaded, sure, send anti-Tony asks. We’ll allgladly explain to you why you’re wrong. Because we enjoy that. So, thank you,for giving us the opportunity. But you might want to think twice before sendingan anti-Tony message again. This Isn’t Working.
And the last thing: Tony is not written as avillain. He is not supposed to be a villain. If you accept that, you’re goingto enjoy the movies more, trust me.
#tony stark#tony stark defense squad#tony stark deserves better#tony stark is not a villain#tony stark is a hero#team iron man#iron man#avengers#avengers aou#aou#age of ultron#ultron#my post#asks#anonymous
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Ask Box Closed Until May (at the earliest); A Long-Winded Apology
Hey everyone. It’s time for me to get real about something.
I’ve had about 6 different readers send asks to me in the past few days checking on old asks. I have one reader who’s been waiting since November for an answer to their question who has waited five months for a follow up. (I’m working on it.)
First: I’m really, really sorry about the delay. This image will explain what’s been keeping me...
That’s over 1250 asks awaiting my answer.
Some back of the envelope math tells me that at 3 asks a day (a reasonable pace that I (mostly) can keep up with), that means that it should take me fourteen months to clear my inbox.
That’s not acceptable. Not to you, not to me. It’s frankly been making me feel pretty overwhelmed. I’m working 90 hour weeks, I’m sick for the third time in two months, I’m in a weird limbo where the job I interviewed at has given me a start date but not an official offer, I’m behind on my coursework, I have about 6 writing projects on various back burners that aren’t going well, and I’m frankly dreading working the summer. My head hasn’t been in a great place, which is why you haven’t seen any new articles from me in the last 2 months. (I’m so so sorry!)
Closing the inbox is the only piece of that insanity that I can control.
For those who have been waiting the longest, I have even more bad news.
The right and just thing to do would be to manage the inbox in chronological order: oldest to newest. But the way Tumblr seems to interact with both of my browsers, I can’t see the older asks AND TYPE without a massive input delay. It makes it functionally impossible for me to answer the oldest asks first. Which means I’m going to answer the questions near the top first (because I can actually, y’know, answer them). I haven’t seen the actual bottom of my inbox in weeks because it breaks my browser.
I’m so, so sorry.
I’m working on some strategies to get this done. In the meantime, please do not message me your asks as a “workaround”.
I don’t know how I’m going to manage a 1250 ask backlog. I’m considering a few things--opening up the inbox for only a few days at a time, for example, or grouping similar asks together and answering as much of them as I can.
For now all I have to say is: I’m sorry, hold tight, I love you all.
xoxo, Aunt Scripty
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Hi Delta! It's that tattoo anon. I was wondering if after you've finished the absolutely insane amount of prompts you have right now, you could maybe write one about Felix getting his tattoo and Dean thinking it looks really hot on him and his reaction to it? Maybe a smut request, maybe just a "omigod-my-boyfriend-is-so-hot-and-he-somehow-just-managed-to-get-even-hotter-WTF" fic idk haha :) I'm looking forward to all these amazing projects you have coming in 2019 & wishing you a Happy New Year!
Hi, Anon-
So, I finally finished this prompt and I came to post it and that is when I realized this has been in my inbox for a year!
Like, fuck! I’m sorry this has taken me so long! I hope you still enjoy it!
Even though the weather was finallystarting to warm, Dean wasn’t particularly happy about the parking spot hefound around the corner from Felix’s dorm. Yes, California winter barelycounted as winter at all, and the walk really wasn’t far. Still, it added tothe time it would take to see Felix, which was unacceptable. With midterms,Dean and Felix hadn’t gotten to see each other nearly as much as Dean wouldhave liked. That was going to change starting that day. Midterms wereofficially over, and Felix was going to be spending the weekend at Berkeley.There was an LGBT association event that night that Dean had gotten roped intohelping with, but after that, it was just the two of them.
Dean couldn’t wait.
He was at least thankful for the girl fromFelix’s floor that was exiting the building as he and Benny jogged up to theentrance. She noticed them, smiled, and greeted, “Hi, Dean.”
She held the door for them, and Deanreally wished he remembered her name. He was pretty sure it started with an S,but beyond that, he was completely blank. He caught the door with one hand andnodded graciously as he passed her on the way into the building.
Benny followed him inside and up thestairs. They passed a few other people Dean recognized, or at least theyrecognized Dean if their greetings were any indication. They passed the fourthor fifth person on their way up to the sixth floor when Dean heard Bennychuckle. “It’s like you go here,” he commented with such obvious amusement.“Are you going to transfer?” he questioned teasingly.
“Shut up, dude,” Dean retorted as hecontinued to climb the stairs.
It was such a Benny comment Dean was morethan a little surprised he hadn’t made it before. And, in all fairness,everyone in Felix’s dorm seemed to be recognizing Dean that day. Also, Deanwasn’t completely proud of it, but he had considered transferring. Maybe notseriously, but still.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t been excited whenFelix had gotten accepted to Stanford and decided to attend college there. Itwas pretty close to Berkeley, so they could see each other more than four timesover the school year. Still, there was just such an appeal to them both beingat the same university. Ultimately, he hadn’t pursued it for a variety ofreasons like his scholarship, but he had considered it.
“Felix’s dad would love that,” Dean addedmore under his breath. Dean and Leonard had actually got to a good point, or atleast Dean thought they had but then Felix decided on Stanford and Leonard wasless than pleased. He didn’t even attempt to hide that that was because Felixand Dean would be so close. Dean was pretty sure if he transferred to Stanford,Leonard would lose his mind.
“Also, you would be abandoning me,” Bennyreminded with clear disapproval, “Which would be unacceptable.”
Dean stopped to grin back at the otherguy. “You’d visit,” Dean commented with absolute certainty. “I couldn’t get ridof you that easily,” he added before turning and once again starting back upthe stairs.
“You are probably right,” Benny admittedas he once again followed Dean up the stairs. They reached Felix’s floor andstarted down the east wing of the building heading toward where Felix’s roomwas nestled in a corner on the far side of the building.
Dean would freely admit he didn’t have themost acute hearing. He grew up with a musician, and he had definitely picked uphis dad’s affinity for listening to music at absurdly loud volumes at a veryyoung age. So, the fact that he even heard the crowd of people from halfwaydown the hall was rather impressive.
When they reached Felix’s room the doorwas open. That was pretty typical for Felix and his roommates, but the crowd ofpeople that seemed to fill the room wasn’t. A corner dorm and a triple, Felix’sdorm was a little bit bigger than what was probably standard, but even itlooked especially small with at least a dozen people crammed inside it. Themajority of people were sitting, some on one of the beds, others in chairs, butthe majority were scattered around on the floor. A few people were standing orleaning up against furniture. Everyone’s attention was focused on thetelevision. A 52-inch flat screen balanced precociously on top of severalgaming systems, all stacked on top of a mini-fridge.
Even in the crowd with his back to thedoor, Dean had no trouble finding Felix. He was sitting on the floor staring upat the TV just like everyone else. The tension visible in his shoulders and theoccasional twitch served as a telltale sign that he was playing something.
Dean stopped in the doorway for a secondto take it all in and figure out what exactly he should do next. “Look at allthe nerds,” Benny whispered into Dean’s ear, and Dean could hear the smirk inhis voice.
The term wasn’t exactly inaccurate, butDean wouldn’t ever have used it in earshot of Felix. It was selfish, but Deanenjoyed sex, especially with Felix, and he wasn’t going to do anything to getin the way of that. Calling Felix a nerd would have had him going sexless for awhile, of that Dean was positive.
“They’re called gamers,” Dean whispered inreply. He felt a bit like he was the narrator of a nature documentary talkingabout some wild and elusive creatures found only in the deepest most secludedwildlands. With Dean’s heavy southern accent, he doubted he would be narratingany documentaries anytime soon, but Felix could certainly act like a wildcreature in some settings.
Despite their talking, almost no one inthe room seemed aware of their presence. No one even dared to look away fromthe television. The only acknowledgement they got was from a guy who wassitting on one of the beds. He waved a hand in their general directions withoutlooking at them as he stated distractedly, “There is money on the desk. You canleave the pizza.”
Dean heard Benny let out a muffled laughas he exclaimed, “Wow!”
He couldn’t disagree with that sentiment.Felix lived in a building specifically for freshmen in majors related tocomputer science and engineering, so a certain level of nerd type behavior wasjust par for the course. Video game marathons that lasted for multiple days,gathering in the common area to watch E3, and the guys down the hall from Felixthat had built a beer dispensing robot had all become part of the charm forDean. And it really did make his visits interesting. This, however, might havebeen taking things to a whole new level. Dean was pretty sure he and Bennycould have started pulling things off the desks and walked out with whatever withoutanyone questioning it.
He might have chuckled a little too loud becausethe whole thing really was ridiculous, and apparently, that was enough to catchsomeone’s attention. Not Felix’s, who was still focused on the television withhis cute tense shoulders and his perfect hair. But one of the guys on the bedturned and looked in their direction. Dean recognized him as one of the guysfrom Felix’s floor, but his name was a mystery. Felix’s room was like thesocial hub of the damn building, so Dean had met so many people it was hard tokeep track of who was who.
He saw Dean standing in the doorway andclearly recognized him. “Oh, hey man,” he greeted with a little surpriseturning back to the apparent focal point of the room, “Felix, your boyfriend ishere.”
Dean was never going to get sick of beingcalled Felix’s boyfriend. It might have been his favorite thing.
“Hey babe, I just need to finish this realquick,” Felix called to him without taking his eyes off the television as hecontinued to play, “Come in.”
Dean spent so much time at Felix’s dormsometimes he felt like he practically lived there, but he still tried to keepsome level of boundaries. Felix had made a big deal about proving hisindependence and doing his own thing when picking colleges. He had gottenaccepted to Berkeley but refused to really consider it because he didn’t wantto just follow Dean to school. Dean wouldn’t have thought of it that waybecause Berkeley really did have a great computer program from what he couldtell, but Felix saw it differently. In the end, Dean was just happy Felixdidn’t choose to go to MIT and tried to respect Felix’s space. He usuallyknocked when he visited and waited for an invite.
He took a few steps into the room and tooka quick look around before asking, “What is this exactly?”
“Felix is fucking killing the latestDestiny Raid,” One of the girls declared with such condescension it was clearthat she thought it was the most obvious thing. That should have been annoying,but it was pretty much tradition for Dean to get a response like that tosomething he said. Felix had been so sweet to share the Skype installationstory during one of his visits, and Dean was pretty sure Felix’s roommate Samlaughed for five minutes straight. It really wasn’t that funny, and Dean wassure he wasn’t the first person to have a hard time figuring out how to installSkype.
Benny leaned over Dean’s shoulder and questioned,“What does that mean?”
Dean was so glad he had brought Bennyalong because he was probably the one person on the planet that knew less aboutcomputers and gaming than Dean. He grinned and replied, “No idea.”
Their little conversation was clearlyoverheard because everyone, but Felix turned and looked at them with cleardisgust. Felix kept his eyes on the television and continued to play as hechuckled. “Ignore him,” Felix called to the others with clear amusement, “He’snot tech-savvy.”
“And you’re dating him?” One of the girlsquestioned before popping a couple of pieces of popcorn in her mouth. Dean recognizedher as well. He was pretty sure she lived on the second floor of Felix’sbuilding, but she hung out in Felix’s room so much it felt like she practicallylived there. Dean really hadn’t known how to feel about that for like the firstmonth or so until Felix told him she was obviously into his roommate, Siris.Once he knew that, he could see all the signs, and he found he liked her a lotmore. Of course, that comment didn’t really endear the girl to him any.
Dean watched Felix’s shoulders move upwardbriefly in the obvious sign of a shrug. “He makes up for it with other skills,”Felix answered matter-of-factly.
Siris made a little amused noise beforejumping in, “Let me translate that from Dude-speak for you,” he declaredclearly very pleased with himself, “That means he is good in bed.”
“Pretty much,” Felix was quick to agree.Dean could hear the grin on his face in his voice.
“Thanks, babe,” Dean called out trying tosound sarcastic and dry even though he could feel his face burning. Deanwouldn’t have described himself as modest, and he could definitely brag abouthis sex life. Why shouldn’t he? It was pretty fucking incredible. Even thoughboth he and Felix had been pretty busy with school they managed to see eachother plenty and seeing each other typically meant some sex. And sex with Felixwas always beyond amazing. Still, there was something inherently differentabout bragging to friends about your sex life and having details broadcasted tostrangers.
“I only speak the truth,” Felix retorted.He was still focused on the screen in front of him so Dean couldn’t see hisface, but the wicked grin he was wearing was more than evident from his voice.
Dean’s cheeks burned even more, andBenny’s snickering didn’t really help with that any. Neither did the look oneof the girls sitting nearby gave him either. Complaining would just assureFelix would do that shit more so he just grumbled, “Love you.”
“Love you too,” Felix called back brightly.
Benny would have definitely had somethingto say about that because he just loved to tease Dean about how lovey he andFelix could get. Dean normally didn’t care and would take the opportunity toremind Benny as someone who struggled to maintain a relationship for more thana few months he should really keep his opinion to himself. Benny didn’t get achance to say anything because almost immediately after Felix spoke somethinghappened on the screen, and everyone in the room gasped in absolute horror.
“Dude!” Sam practically shouted withdisapproval at Felix, “Speak less, focus more!!”
Felix made an amused and dismissive soundas he continued to play obviously unaffected by whatever happened. “Chill, Igot this,” he assured confidently.
The room fell into an almost tense silenceas everyone watched Felix play. It was ridiculous, but Dean didn’t dareinterrupt it. It made time move more slowly and then something happened on thescreen, and the entire room lost their damned minds. At first, Dean didn’t knowif it was a good thing or a bad thing, but when people started congratulatingFelix, he figured Felix had won.
Dean felt Benny clasp a hand on hisshoulder before leaning in and questioning, “How does it feel to be dating theking of the nerds?”
Dean smirked at that because he wouldn’tsay it out loud, but Felix was this super sexy computer geek, and his passionfor those things really turned Dean on. Also, it was nice just to hear peopletalk about how he and Felix were dating.
“I fucking heard that,” Felix declared ashe hopped off his spot on the floor and tossed his controller aside. He walkedover more or less ignoring the people that were continuing to freak out abouthis apparent victory. When he reached Dean’s side, he pushed up on his toesjust long enough to place a quick kiss on Dean’s cheek, and it really waseverything Dean could do not to literally melt. “I’m fucking starving, so webetter be getting food,” he commented instead of a more traditional greeting.
“Yeah, we can,” Dean agreed. They had sometime until they needed to get to be back at Berkeley, and at that point, theysort of had a tradition of getting food at a little restaurant near campusevery time Dean picked Felix. Since Benny was with them it wouldn’t quite bethe intimate little meal it was most of the time, but it would still be fun.
Out of reflex Dean reached over andwrapped his hand around Felix’s, and that was when he noticed that somethingwas off. He felt the graze of something rough on Felix’s wrist. When he lookeddown, he saw that Felix had a white gauzy bandage wrapped around his wrist.
Dean hated seeing Felix hurt even if itwas something small. Having seen Felix almost get killed by a monster probablyhad something to do with that. It took some serious effort not to immediatelyfreak out at the sight of the injury, so the fact that his voice only came outa little high pitched was pretty impressive. “What happened? Soldering ironmishap?” he questioned nervously.
“Nay,” Felix shrugged after a quick glancedown at his own hand and then looking back up, “I got a tattoo.”
Dean blinked. He had not expected that,and the surprise of it was enough to leave him confused. “What?” he questioned.
“You didn’t tell the boyfriend you weregetting inked?” one of the guys in the crowd commented with a mix ofdisapproval and surprise, “My girlfriend would murder my ass.”
Felix rolled his eyes hard before lookingover his shoulder and calling to the guy. “Glad I’m not dating your girlfriend!”
Dean wasn’t Will. He wasn’t going to freakout because Felix got a tattoo, or at least he wanted to say that. It was hardto swallow down his initial desire to go into overprotective boyfriend mode. Hewas also a little surprised. Felix had made some off-handed comment about kindof wanting a tattoo the last time they had met up with Will and Nico but beyondthat he hadn’t expressed much of an interest. Also, he and Felix talked dailyso why he wouldn’t have at least mentioned he had an appointment, Dean didn’tunderstand.
“A call would have been appreciated,” Deancommented and immediately regretted it when he heard how whiny he sounded.
“It was sort of a last-minute decision,”Felix replied with a shrug, “And you had office hours.”
Dean hated Felix’s casualness, and hereally wanted to remind him that office hours typically consisted of Deansitting around grading extremely poorly written essays and counting the secondsuntil it was over. He could have taken a phone call or read a text message.Thing was, Felix would have given him endless shit for getting so bent out ofshape about it, so he let it go. “Can I see it?” Dean questioned. He reachedout to grab ahold of Felix’s bandaged wrist but stopped himself last minute. Hedidn’t know where the tattoo actually was, and he didn’t want to accidentallyhurt him.
“Sure,” Felix replied as he began rollingthe bandage off his wrist, “I only had it covered so I could play.”
With a few swift movements, the whitegauze was gone from Felix’s wrist, and the fresh tattoo underneath wasrevealed. It was a series of lines radiating out from around the slightlyprotruding bone on the side of his wrist in a pattern that was clearly modeledafter electronic circuitry. It wasn’t very large, but it was incrediblydetailed. Dean couldn’t imagine how long it had taken to be completed. Felix’swrist, the skin around the tattoo, looked a little red and slightly swollen butnot in a worrying sort of way.
“Hot,” Benny commented dryly remindingDean that he was there.
Dean turned and smacked Benny’s chestdisapprovingly even though he knew he didn’t look at Felix like that. Hissnickering was just more evidence that he was teasing. He then turned back toFelix and commented, “It’s cool.” It really was, and it was very Felix, but itwas just that it looked red. “Is it supposed to look kind of red?”
“It is pretty much a decorative open-woundat this point, so yeah, pretty much,” Felix answered casually, and he took hishand back.
That made total sense, and Dean absolutelyhated it. “Did it hurt?” he asked knowing it was a stupid question but notbeing able to stop himself. Maybe secretly on some level, he was hoping Felixwould say it didn’t just so Dean wouldn’t have to imagine his sweet boyfriendin pain.
“Fuck yes,” Felix dismissed like it wasnothing, “It was literally needles being jammed into my skin over and overagain.”
“Does it still hurt?”
“It’s a little tender,” Felix admitted ashe looked down at his wrist for a second. He poked the slightly swollen flesh acouple of times in an experimental way before adding, “It’s not that bad.”
Dean hadn’t noticed that Felix’s wrist wasswollen until he watched Felix poke at it, but now he could see that it wasmost definitely swollen. Felix might have described it as a decorative openwound and some irritation would make sense but swelling seemed like it could bebad. Felix could have an infection. Ignoring that could be seriously dangerous.Dean went for his phone without even really thinking about it as he offered, “Icould probably call Will, and he could meet us.”
“Oh my god, Dean, chill,” Felix insistedwith a good-natured laugh as he reached out and patted Dean’s cheek. “I alreadycalled Nico for tattoo care tips,” he assured. “I’ve got to keep it clean andput on this ointment-” Felix produced a bottle of ointment from his back pocketand held it out for Dean to see before returning it to his back pocket. “Itisn’t that fucking hard”
That was all totally reasonable, and ifanyone knew how to care for a new tattoo it was Nico, but Dean still didn’tlike it. He stopped actively grabbing his phone from his pocket, but he stillhad his hand wrapped around it. “I still think-”
“Nico is covered in tattoos and hasn’tdied,” Felix pointed out insistently, “I’m going to be fine.”
Dean still didn’t like it, but if hecontinued to argue it was going to get really fucking annoying. Also, he andFelix were going to be spending the entire weekend together so he could keep aneye on Felix. If it seemed to be getting worse Dean could just call Will. Hesighed as a sign of surrender, “Fine.”
With Felix it was always so easy to forgetother people were around, and that moment wasn’t any different. It wasn’t untilBenny perched his chin on Dean’s shoulder that Dean remembered they had a bitof an audience. “What’s it liked to be pussy whipped by the king of nerds?”Benny questioned teasingly.
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