#need this man looking like hes been eating nothing but saltine crackers for the last 20 years

[lemon-wedges]

The question is when does Dave finally jump into that volleyball match he’s been eyeing and how long can Hal cheer him on before he burns to a crisp? 💖

[j0kers-light]

How do you think Joker would deal with menstruation? Or if reader had a long delay and they both thought she was pregnant 😂 (but then it turned out to be a false alarm)

Hey hi anon!! 🖤✨

I couldn't help myself and jumped out of line of ask requests! I woke up from a nap with the perfect idea for this so here we go!

It is common knowledge that Joker does not use condoms. The tried and true saying, 'wrap it before you tap is' does not apply to him, mkay?

This man does not care. Its risky, its dangerous, and its incredibly hot to slide into you with nothing in the way. That friction of skin between skin just scratches an itch of intimacy that Joker never knew he needed. Now he knows why condoms are so expensive. Its a clear indicator not to use them!

He knows you secretly enjoy it too or you would have put an end to raw sex from the beginning. Joker does not take into consideration if you're taking any birth contraceptive measures [thats your choice as the reader] he's got bigger things to worry about, but there was always a twinge of hesitation in his mind.

What if you get pregnant?

Joker is NOT father material despite the countless nannies and other random people from your apartment building that compliment his DILF status and skills every time you babysit your neighbor's kid. Joker is not one for children, but he sorta kinda likes Gio. The little tyke's got spunk and he's so well mannered and you look ethereal whenever you hold Gio and the sunlight hits you a certain—

Okay. Fine! So Joker has toyed with the idea! He let his mind wander once or twice but it doesn't mean he's actively tryna knock you up! He is not about that life. Gotham City has to burn first and there's too much fun to cause to be weighted down with a child.

Nothing is for certain but Joker knows. He knows you can and will be a great mother just... not with his kid.

Joker is fully aware of your 'time of the month.' You're more moodier than usual and you always desert him in the guest bedroom for the comfort of your private room. You don't come out except to eat and you take said meals in your sanctuary. He hates the one week of the month where his Light is not around.

He does not like when you shut him out and hide in your shell but you grumble 'hormones' or 'leave me lone, J' and waddle back to safety.

Joker wants nothing more to cuddle up with you and rub your cramps away or hand feed you all the weird snacks you crave while your buried under the blankets, but you won't let him near you! Why won't you let him spoil you?

Contrary to popular belief, Joker is smart and very detail driven. He keeps up with your mensural cycle because he needs to know when his Light will be out of commission. He needs to know when to stay out of your way and when to keep your favorite snacks stocked in the penthouse. Since you won't let him near you, he'll keep you satisfied with acts of service. A happy Bunny, is a happy Joker.

So..... he's a lit-tle confused when your expected start date rolls around and you're still well, normal. You haven't snapped at him once or asked for some ridiculous food pairing that should not go together. You're still the bunny that he fell ten times over for. And when nothing happens for three days in a row.. Joker silently panics.

Its day five without any bleeding and Joker is a nervous wreck. You noticed a slight change in his behavior recently but with your upset stomach, you haven't given him any more attention.

You've been nauseous since the beginning of the week and no ginger ale, saltine crackers, or other home remedies that Sarai texted you to try have worked. If you don't feel any better in the morning, you're going to the ER and she better be on-call.

You were at your wits end trying to treat this weird stomach bug when she sends another message that makes your heart drop to the floor.

When's ur last period ever think bout that?

You drop your phone and spiral down a rabbit hole.

When was your last period? Shouldn’t you be due for one soon?

You snap out of your thoughts and open your period tracker and groan aloud when you notice you're five days late.

"Oh no. Oh nope nope nopeity nope." You look around the room like it miraculously held the answers to your dilemna. You've never been late a day in your life and right on time, your imaginary angel appeared on your shoulder.

"You and J do go at like rabbits..." She grimaced.

On your other shoulder your brash devil appeared. She was in rare form with a wide grin, stretching from ear to ear.

"And we be taking them loads straight to the womb! I bet you’re regretting not wrapping that sausage every time huh you cum whore? Haha! Pregnant with a psychopath's baby! That's wild! Couldn’t be me tho!”

She doubled over laughing and your angel shot her a glare. "It isn’t funny. This affects you too! Y/n, ignore her. CVS is on the corner babe. Aisle nine, lets go."

You nodded to yourself and grabbed your phone and keys, headed to the door but Joker came out of nowhere and blocked your way.

He took in your frazzled appearance. Your hands were shaking and you failed to care that you were only wearing yoga pants and one of his hoodies.

"Where ya going, pretty girl?"

His hands touched yours and discreetly took your keys from you. And you're so out of it, you hardly noticed.

"I uh, there's um.."

"Use your words, Y/n." Joker urged you.

You breathed in and out before meeting his curious eyes.

He's ever your rock; calm and ready to tackle any situation you throw at him. Would he handle this one if you told him the truth?

This would ruin all of his plans. You were supposed to be a temporary stop in his jorney called life. You would be a liability if you came out and said, 'oh hey Joker! I'm late!'

"LaTe for what?"

You blinked rapidly. Did you say that aloud?!! Joker arched an eyebrow and waited for you to answer him. Your mouth flopped like a fish.

Thank the heavens that Joker is so patient with you. He rolled his eyes and guided you into the powder room off of the foyer.

From there, he picked you up and sat you down on the counter. He stood between your legs, gently rubbing your legs.

"Talk to me, bunny. What's stuck in that uhh.. pretty lit-tle head of yours, hmm? You can tell meeeeeee."

You burst into tears and Joker froze like a statue. Those tears of yours were his kryptonite.

"I'm late! I haven't had my period yet!"

Joker clicked his tongue and set to work wiping your tears away. He was a little rough while doing it but the motion helped calm you down. Joker was still rusty with being affectionate and you smiled at his sweet gesture.

"I know."

You glanced up at him, "Whah?"

Joker repeated himself and leaned forward on his palms near your hips. "You're uhh, five, days late, doll. I need ya to do me a favor. Can ya do that?" He waited until you stopped sniffing.

Your nod was his clue to continue.

He pushed three bottles of water next to you. You stared down at them and the ominous brown paper bag on the counter. You just now noticed it.

"I need you to drink these and then... take these."

Joker knew you would freak out when he dumped the bag over to reveal the pregnancy tests he made Mac buy this morning. Joker was tired of waiting. If this was happening, he'd be the first to know before getting Sarai involved with a final medical confirmation.

You started hyperventailing until Joker grabbed your face with his hands. "Bunny... bunny... hey. Look at me. There she is. Breathe. Drink n' we'll take them to-get-ther."

"Y-You promise?" You hiccuped.

He hated seeing the fear clouding your coloured eyes. You clung to his wrist, looking up at him as if he had all the answers.

It was obvious that your were overwhelmed and scared. Joker would have to push aside his own jitters and be the stronger person here. He exhaled with a marred smile.

"I prooomise Sweetheart. Now! Drink up for me."

Joker offered you the first water bottle and you took it with the hopes this would all be false alarm.

You were pacing in the foyer with Joker seated nearby. Even with every sharp turn you made, his eyes never strayed from you.

You were a ball of nerves and he hated that you were biting your poor nails to the quick.

He was about to tell you to stop when the timer in the bathroom went off. You stared at the doorway as if it were radioactive. One of your favorite songs continued to play as the timer yet you resumed your pacing.

Joker called out your name to no reply. You were looping back around to past by him and he grabbed your arm. "Light, its time to check."

You shook your head. "I-I-I can't... you're gonna hate me and... and leave.. I just!" You yelped when Joker jerked you into his arms. He sighed into your untamed curls and squeezed you close.

He was too calm during all of this. How was he so calm?!

It was really bothering you until your head rested on his chest and you got to feel his heart beating erratically. Joker was nervous too but he didn't show it and that made you tear up even more.

He was bottling his emotions to be a shoulder for you to lean on.

It made no sense just how caring Joker was to you. He was a changed man indeed.

Joker tipped your head up with his finger. "You want me to check for ya?" He chuckled at your furious nod. Of course you did, why did he even ask? "M'aright, lemme go, doll. Them nails are killin' me."

You mumbled out an apology and let J go. He walked into the bathroom and closed the door. He sighed and glanced at the four pregnancy test lined up on the counter. Leave it to his doll to be neat even while under duress.

He didn't want to do this but you didn't have the courage to. So Joker was left to face one of his worst fears all alone.

There wasn't a proper procedure to these things so he just snagged the first one he could get ahold of and eyed the screen.

A bucket of ice was dumped over his head.

Positive.

Two blue lines held so much power. His ears were ringing and he barely heard your frantic knocking on the door.

"Um Joker? Y-You're too quiet. I-I’m coming in." You opened the door and took one look at a frozen Joker holding a pregnancy test and feared the worst.

Judging by his schooled features, you already knew the results but you had to see for yourself. You picked up the other three tests on the counter but did a double take.

"What? They’re negative. Oh my God. They’re negative! J, I'm not--" You turned to show Joker but he had already shook himself out of his daze and snatched the tests from your hands.

Joker's warped mind was playing tricks on him. It had to be. Because these tests were negative. He conferred with the one in his hand but it remained that life altering, positive.

Joker was conflicted and his green eyes darted up at you. Your smile faded seeing his intense emeralds, "J, what's wrong?"

"Thisssss one is positive. I'm calling the doc." He threw them all into the wastebin and was about to leave when you stepped in his path.

"Joker, wait! Three out of four, I think its safe to agree with the majority here." You were feeling back to normal now your pregnacy scare was past you but Joker was still fighting his delusions.

"I wanna be sure, Light. I'm not trusting a uhh drugstore test with somethin' like this." He rested his forehead against yours and you could feel his hands shaking as they cupped your face.

This was really getting to him. You peered through your lashes at J. He wouldn't let this go until he knew for sure from a professional. You covered his hands with your own. It was your turn to be strong and be there for Joker.

You kissed him softy and he chased after you when you broke away. "Okay, J, you can call Sarai."

He sighed and tugged you closer for the time being. You didn't know who needed this hug the most; you or Joker.

Your eyes naturally fell to the wastebin where the tests lay, mocking you and J.

There was a palpable change in the air. This interaction changed the future for you and J. In the heat of the moment neither of you considered protection. It was scary to think this could have ended very differently. You were sighing in relief but Joker was at odds with the outcome. Even with his fears put to rest, a small part of him wanted all four tests to be positive.

Simply because it would be a journey to experience with you.

[dodo-begone]

He’s Unleashed, my Cracker King

Pairing: Yandere!DSMP!Awesamdude x Reader

Request: Haha yandere sam pt 2😳😳 jk...unless

Word count: 1.4k

Warning: Starvation/Fasting, Yandere, Restraints

This is a part 2 to The Monster Within

If this ever looks wonky/glitched, i have this properly archived on Ao3

_______________________________________________

It’s been ages since the breach. Specifically, you had no clue how much time passed. Hours or days could’ve passed, weeks, even months and it would’ve all been the same. No daylight could reach you deep within the walls of Pandora’s Vault.

In the end, it was all the same. You couldn’t even tell time through how often you slept. Food rations were the only way to tell time, in a way. Honestly you had no idea how to really do it. Okay you did but you got rather confused quickly. Eat ration was supposed to be what, a day? A few hours? How were you supposed to know? It didn’t matter after a while. Instead you counted how many rations you got rather than trying to guess the time between feedings.

With a sigh, you flop back onto your cot. For a cot in a prison, it was rather comfortable and homey. The longer you spent in this cell, the more you think this was purposeful. No prison cell should be filled with so many comforts and luxuries. Book? Yeah that can make sense. Dream had some in his cell. There were ones to read and clothes to write. He got a clock and a cauldron. That was it.

And you? So many luxuries seemed to have been waiting for you. Stuffed animals similar to your own, at least you hoped they were just similar and not your own, had been neatly placed on the cot. Small trinkets like jewelry and other small and harmless objects were left about on flat surfaces. Nobody could even argue that this was a prison cell in Pandora’s Vault when there was a little table for the nicknacks. Sadly it was stuck into the floor. No amount of shoving or lifting would free it. Had to have been held down by screws or nails. Something of the sort. You weren’t a person fluent with items of that sort, so you could be severely mistaken.

What could be arguable worse is the fact that Sam hasn’t come back. He could’ve come in when you were asleep; who else could be providing the food otherwise? Yet that was the only sign of him other than a new item. It was always something you liked. In a pitiful attempt at rebellion, you ignore the items. You even start to ignore the food. A few nibbles on the food and then it was returned back to the door. It was always gone and replaced by something else when you next woke. It was absolutely infuriating.

You only hoped your actions peeved Sam. There must’ve been cameras, he must’ve been seeing everything. This was Pandora’s Vault we’re talking about, the most secure place in the smp. If it were to be kept secure, then cameras were obviously needed. On one hand, you wanted cameras to show Sam how awfully this was affecting you. On the other, you just wanted some damn privacy. Were either too much to ask for?

This cycle went on long enough for you to start feeling ill. Oh how you craved the food given to you, but you didn’t want to touch it. The food was vile, had to be. It was made by Sam, after all. Must’ve been. There may not be a vile taste, but the person who made it tainted it the moment they touched it. So you continue your fast in hopes it’d garner some attention from Sam.

Fortunately, on that front, you didn’t have to wait long. When you stopped eating food entirely, it wasn’t long until Sam came in. The moment he opened the door and walked in, so many emotions hit you at once.

Joy of someone else finally being here to talk to. Relief that it was someone you knew, someone you were close to. Yet all of those positive feelings were gone in a heartbeat, replaced by more malevolent feelings. Rage for seeing the man who imprisoned you. Disgust of seeing the man with such a loving yet melancholy gaze viewing your weakened state. Fear at what he could do to you now; he already had you imprisoned. You were completely and utterly at his mercy.

He’s slow at first, taking small steps toward you. None of his actions were swift, all soft. A way to keep you calm. That just made you more anxious; why would he be doing this if it weren’t for something bad? It had to be bad? Right? Sam was doing bad things to you. But he was your friend. And he still hurt you in every way.

Not even halfway across the room, he changed tactics. What were once deliberate and lagged movements soon became dizzyingly swift. You couldn’t even get yourself off the cot before he was on you. The moment he put his hands on you, you struggled in any way you could. Screaming, biting, pulling, kicking. Anything you could think of. Yet it wasn’t enough. You were too weak, too tired. Unprepared. Soon you gave up, becoming sedate and ragdoll-like.

Once again, you were at Sam’s mercy. Well it hadn’t changed really, you were always at Sam’s mercy. This felt different, though. Too real, something so in your face it was undeniable. Before you could only imagine what could happen, but the permanence, reality and unknown absolutely petrified you.

The jangling of metal caught you attention. You had no time to ponder where or what the noise was before shockingly cold was placed against your arm and a click was heard. Looking down fed a new fear. Although the fear wasn’t clear, some fear was definitely being fed. On your wrist was a nice, shiny shackle.

Now you were starting to shake and hyperventilate, oh god what was happening? What was going to happen? The sound of a second click, too similar to the first to be a coincidence, was absolutely bone chilling. You were terrified to look over to where the sound originated from.

Yet you still did. On Sam’s wrist was a shackle connected to an elongated chain. That chain led in your direction and it didn’t take a genius to figure out where it was going. Slowly you look back into Sam’s eyes. Absolute and raw fear met heart-melting adoration and glee. The sight sicked you, yet it seemed to have the opposite effect on Sam.

Delicately, he picked you up. Soon you were in his lap, being held snugly and securely to his chest. Gently he laid his head on your shoulder. In any other situation, this would be comforting. But this one? God it just makes everything so much worse. It only heightens your fear. This wasn’t what you were expecting. When was the bad stuff gonna happen? You know, that torture stuff?

Soon you start to sob. Could this get any worse?

The moment you started crying, Sam began his attempts at calming you. Quiet “shh”s and other sweet nothings were whispered by you. In his attempt, he tried to snuggle closer to you and held you tighter.

Once your crying fit was over, you leaned back into Sam. Resting your head onto his. You were absolutely defeated and exhausted. Sleep called to you with it’s alluring siren song, and you almost listened to it. That was until Sam shifted underneath you.

With one hand, he started to dig around in his pocket. Honestly you could care less at this point. Trying to sleep again proved fruitless. The moment you closed your eyes to sleep, Sam kept shifting and bothering you. A crinkle echoed through the silence. Not long after, with more movement on Sam’s part, something poked your lips. This was rather bothersome. So you turned away from it, hoping that’d be the last of it. It was persistent though.

It went on long enough to annoy you. What could be prodding at your mouth, besides Sam. Why would he be prodding your mouth? Could he just not?

Opening your eyes rewarded you to a cracker. A damn saltine cracker of all things. This time you actively watched as it was brought to your mouth and booped against your lips. The pattern kept going on, but now it was much more repetitive. Less time between prods. He did it so insistently and relentlessly that you just wanted to chomp his hand off. So you tried just that.

Your actions only rewarded you with a cracker and a “congrats” and “good job” from Sam.

And another cracker.

[myhockeyworld87]

What Happens In Vegas...Doesn’t Always Stay There - Jacob Markstrom - Part 4

Word Count: 4,277

POV: Reader

Warning: Language, Smut, NSFW, Pregnancy stuff

Notes: Well here’s part 4. When last we saw these two, our reader told Jacob she was pregnant. Now they have some decisions to make. Let’s see what happens. As always feedback is welcome. Happy Reading!

What Happens In Vegas…Doesn’t Always Stay There Masterlist

Jacob finally ended up carrying you to bed, after the game. He hated that it might possibly wake you, but didn't think that sleeping on the couch would be good for you or the baby. He wanted you to get as much rest as possible while showing you that moving here and letting him help you was really the best option for all three of you. Thankfully, you were still in a sleep fog as he lifted you off the sofa, really only conscious enough to wrap your arms around his neck.

 The earthy scent of sandalwood and something else filled your nostrils. Something that you knew, subconsciously, was only Jacob. As he carried you up the stairs, this feeling of serenity and tranquility took over you. The past few days you had felt like you were stranded on a deserted island with no one to help and nowhere to go. Now, being here with Jacob, you just felt cared for, and dare you say it, loved. That last part you didn't want to think about, there were too many emotions as it was. Just because Jacob was feeling responsible for the baby, didn't mean that he loved you. The whole idea was ridiculous. You barely knew one another. A small part of you said that that didn't mean that love wasn't off the table, but you squashed that thought down, as Jacob laid you on the mattress.

 You blinked rapidly, clearing the haze that had crept over you in sleep, to see Jacob staring down at you. The look in his eyes was undeniable. That feeling was something you recognized and felt yourself. Lust. You remembered that look as you saw it several times in Vegas, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't have that same feeling yourself. You'd had it since the moment the plane landed in LA and every time after that when you spoke to him on the phone. Now, it burned low, all the way down in your core, as you felt yourself yearning for him once again.

 Jacob's eyes were glued on you, watching as you cleared the sleep from your eyes. Since the moment he'd laid eyes on you that day at the pool, he'd wanted you. It was only heightened now that you were in his home, lying on one of his beds. His brain told him it was wrong, but other parts of his body screamed that it was so right. When your hands didn't release their hold around his neck, he took that as a good sign and slowly brought his face closer to yours.

 There was a mere inch separating the two of you when you finally whispered out. "I want you, Jacob."

 "Are you sure?" He asked and you'd never been more sure of anything in your life. You knew this could get messy, but somehow at that moment, you didn't care. You had a little over seven months to figure it all out, surely that would be enough time. Right now, all you wanted to do was give in to the desires that burned deep within you.

 A simple nod was all he needed before his mouth was hot on yours, his tongue plunging deep inside you, filling you with a passion that was all-consuming. You met him every step of the way, as your mouth fused with his. Eager hands lifted the hem of your shirt until you were sitting up so that Jacob could toss the garment somewhere in the room. Yours did the same to him, divesting him of every stitch of clothing but his boxers. His mouth left yours only so that it could travel down your skin, kissing your neck, your collarbone, and your breasts. It was only when he reached your stomach, as he was peeling off your panties that he stopped; the air growing heavy as you could see a frown forming. "Is this, ok?" Jacob asked you the simple question yet spoke to your tummy and you knew he was asking about the baby without saying the actual words.

 You grabbed his chin between your thumb and index finger. "Hey, look at me." When he did you continued. "It's fine. The doctor said everything looks perfectly normal." That answer seemed to put him more at ease, yet his movements were still hesitant, as he finally slid your panties off. His fingers delved between your folds finding you wet and wanting, and making you pant with need. As good as what he was doing felt, you knew he needed reassurance. Pushing his boxer briefs down, you freed his cock; gliding your hand up and down his length before positioning him at your entrance.

 Jacob watched your face intently as he entered you, afraid that he might be causing pain. You knew all he'd see there was pleasure, as he filled your pussy. He held himself still, once he was buried deep within you. It was only when you moved your hips, did he finally let go and start thrusting into you. Wrapping your legs around him, you allowed him to go even deeper yet. Jacob groaned as you moaned out when he hit that spot inside you perfectly. Though you'd only been together a few times it was as if he knew all the tricks that turned your body on. Never in your life had you been with anyone who you'd felt so in sync with, until him. It didn't take long for your orgasm to hit, as your pussy quivered around his cock. Jacob followed you with a few shortened thrusts and a low guttural moan. His lips locked with yours as the last spasms of climax left you both.

 He pulled out of you, then rolled onto his back, gasping for air just as you were. "You, ok?" Concern laced his voice, and somehow you found the strength to roll onto your side so you could look at him.

 "I'm more than ok." He smiled at you, a dazzling one that even in the dim light of the night, lit up the room.

 "And blueberry?"

 It took you a minute to realize he was referring to the baby. "Is that what we're calling it now?"

 He shrugged into the mattress before allowing his hands to skate down your sides to your midsection. "Seems like a fitting name for now."

 "Ok, blueberry it is." It was a peculiar name, you'd give him that, but at least no one would really know what you were talking about until you decided to make the pregnancy more public. "Yes, blueberry is fine as well." He seemed more reassured, so you dropped your head down to rest on his chest. "You know we're going to have to talk about this thing between us more. It could get complicated if we keep ending up in bed."

 Jacob just hummed, before adding, "Tomorrow. Let's just sleep now." He was right. There would be plenty of time to discuss it in the daylight, with your clothes on. Until then, you let your eyes drift shut and sleep take you.

 There was something about being in Jacob's arms that made you feel safe and secure. That even though you didn't know what the future held, for it was not the one that you had planned, everything would be fine, because he was by your side. When you woke early the next morning before the sun was even out, you laid perfectly still, a bit nauseous having gone without food for longer than the baby wanted, or so you assumed. You tried to move without waking Jacob, for he looked so peaceful in sleep, but when a wave of nausea hit, you took off running for the ensuite.

 Jacob was out of bed before he even knew what was happening. He felt you fly out of his arms, only to see you take off for the bathroom. By the time he walked in, your head was halfway in the toilet dry heaving. He felt like a helpless asshole, standing there not knowing what to do. He thought back to the times when he was sick as a child and how his mother would take care of him. So, he found himself kneeling beside you, pulling back your hair while he idly stroked your back. Your body heaved a few more times before you finally stopped, yet still, he continued to rub his large hand up and down your bare skin. "What can I do?"

 "Crackers," you were able to mutter back, and he was gone in a flash, as you stayed on the bathroom floor recovering. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror; naked, shivering, with your hair a mess. It was quite a sight and you were pretty sure that Jacob would want nothing to do with you after this. How was it that the one man you could finally see yourself being with, was seeing you at your utter worst?

 When Jacob walked back into the bathroom, his gut twisted in pain. You looked so small and frail, and all he could think of was that his carelessness had done this to you. He wanted nothing more than to collect you in his arms and protect you, even though he knew that this was something he couldn't shelter you from; it was just a part of life. Still, his heart did that funny little lurch, the one that told him that what he was feeling was way more than even he wanted to admit for you. "Here ya go. I'll stop at the store today, so we can have them in every room for you." It was a small gesture, but he would do anything to prove to you that he was in this for the long haul.

 "Thank you." The mumble coming out garbled as you bit down on a saltine. You thought for sure you'd completely turned him off when he left the room, but seconds later he was back with the duvet from the bed sitting down and wrapping you both up in it. The sight the two of you made could only be described as comical, as Jacob grabbed a cracker to munch on with you. You burst out laughing, and he joined you.

 "Feeling better?"

 "A little."

 "So, is this an every morning occurrence? Not that it matters," he said right away. "I'm just trying to be prepared."

 You shrugged a shoulder at him. "It's happened a few times, but I've noticed if I eat these," you held up the cracker in reference. "It helps immensely."

 He nodded, making a mental note to have them in all the nightstands and end tables for you. "So…about last night…" You knew this was coming but weren't sure you were ready for it this soon. Sure, he had mentioned that he wanted you to move in but after your bout with morning sickness, you knew it was more for the baby's sake than anything between the two of you. Seeing you like this couldn't have been a turn-on. You steeled yourself for what was to come next. "I really want to try and make this work, and not just the parenting thing." You weren't quite sure you were following him. He must have seen the confusion on your face. "Sure, I want to be there for blueberry." You smirked at the use of the baby's nickname. "And I always will be. It's just...you and me. I want to give us a shot as well. I know we don't know each other well, but we can work on that these next several months." His hand absentmindedly went to the back of his neck, and you kind of thought that was a telling sign for him when he was trying to come up with the right words. "I want us to be a couple. Maybe that's naïve to think that, especially since I know it's not what you wanted for your life right now, but I'd like to give it a try."

 A tear slid down your cheek at his words, and you could see him already starting to build up a wall at thoughts of your rejections. "I'd like that too." You told him quickly before the stone building could be erected. "There's something between us Jacob, and if I'm being honest, it's more than just this little blueberry inside me." He was smiling again and you couldn't help but return it. That was the thing about Jacob, he seemed to always be in a great mood and it was infectious. "We certainly have chemistry."

 "Yes, we do."

 Even though you were both on the bathroom floor, naked, eating saltines, there was a smolder in his eyes that told you he wanted you even then. It definitely did things to you. You shook yourself to clear where your mind was headed. "But I think there's even more. Those weeks after Vegas, when we just talked on the phone. Some nights I just didn't want them to end."

 "Me either," he admitted. "So, then we're giving this a try?"

 "Yeah, I think we are."

 There was still this little part of him that was unsure of something, you could see it there; so you raised a brow in query. "Does that mean when you come to the game tonight, I can introduce you as my girlfriend?"

 Ah, so that was the problem. "Yes, I'd like that."

 Jacob smiled; he definitely liked the idea of telling people the two of you were dating. Not only was it something he wanted the last couple of weeks, but it would make it much easier when you finally decided to tell people about the baby and being married. There was that nagging feeling in the back of his mind again. He should probably tell you right now that he hadn't yet signed the divorce papers, but somehow, he couldn't. It could wait he told himself. If things worked out between the two of you, and he was hoping they would, he'd eventually propose and then you could renew your vows and laugh about the whole incident. That was his plan and he was going to stick with it.

 "I really want to kiss you right now," Jacob told you, but you could see the hesitance on his face and you didn't blame him one bit.

 "Maybe after I've brushed my teeth."

 "Deal," he chuckled. "Feeling better?"

 "Much."

 "Good, because my ass is cold on his damn tile." He wasn't wrong, yours was as well. He got up in one fluid motion then, helped you stand as well, wrapping the comforter around himself and then him around you. It was quite cozy, if not a bit awkward, as the two of you both brushed your teeth. He kissed you soundly, before the two of you headed back to bed, only this time with sleep on your mind.

 A couple hours later, Jacob was up getting ready for practice as you cooked you both breakfast. He headed off to morning skate, saying he'd see you in a few hours, which allowed you some time for work. You made a quick trip to the set of the movie you were working on the ad campaign for, talking with producers about the things your firm had in mind while snapping a few shots of filming. By the time you got back to Jacob's place, he was already home.

 He informed you that he talked to his teammate Erik Gudbranson and that his fiancé Sarah would pick you up and take you to the game. He'd given Erik your number so Sarah could call you. Which of course she did, asking if you wanted to grab dinner before the game. Since you had no plans and hated eating out alone, you said yes.

 Sarah was an absolute doll. She treated you as if you'd known you her entire life. Through your conversations with her, you learned that she was a dentist, and it was refreshing to know that if you decided to move here you could still pursue your career while supporting Jacob. Sarah gave you all the ins and outs of the hockey world. Telling you how the guys napped every day, which at first you found ridiculous but once she explained about how much energy they were exerting you understood. While also informing you about trades and how one minute you can be playing somewhere and the next day you're up and moving. That was something you didn't want to explore, yet at the same time needed to consider when thinking about the baby. If Jacob got traded at some point, you could be moving to DC or Florida, and even if you weren't together you'd need to figure out how he could see his child. It was a bit overwhelming but at the same time, she made you feel like part of the hockey world.

 When you finally got to Rogers Arena, you were feeling more inundated with hockey life. Sarah introduced you to all the wives and girlfriends, some more welcoming than others. You got along particularly well with Bo Horvat's fiancé, Holly, and Chris Tanev's girlfriend, Kendra. They made you feel at home and not an outsider at all. As Holly explained, now that you were with Jacob, you were family. You felt partially bad, considering they didn't know the full extent as to why you and Jacob were together, but there would be time to tell them everything at some point.

 The game was a nail-biter and you could see the intensity Jacob had as he stopped each shot. You'd been to a couple of hockey games before, but hadn't paid a great deal of attention, now you couldn't tear your eyes off the ice or at least the home team's goalie. When Jacob let one slip in during the third period, you could see the frustration on his face. It was almost as if he was itching for a fight with the other team, which somehow you found extremely attractive. Thankfully, he was the better goaltender in the end not allowing the puck behind him as the game went into overtime. The Canucks got the W and you found yourself cheering along with the rest of the girls as the team celebrated on the ice.

 Sarah had mentioned at dinner, that after the game you could meet up with Jacob downstairs in the locker room, so you followed her along with the others into the recesses of the arena. It took a bit, but soon the guys were coming out one by one.

 "He'll be out in a minute (Y/N). I'm Erik by the way, the better half of this one."

 "I reserve the right to make that call and so far, you have a lot to live up to." You playfully told Sarah's fiancé, which garnered you more favor amongst Jacob's team members. "I'm (Y/N)," you added holding out your hand for him to shake. "Though you already knew that."

 "I did. Jacob talks about you…a lot."

 "What do I do?" Jacob sauntered out of the dressing room heading straight for the three of you.

 "Oh, I was telling her all your bad habits, like how you fart…."

 "ERIK!" Sarah chided, swatting at his chest. "We want (Y/N) to stick around, not scare her away. She hasn't decided if she's moving here or not."

 The smile on Jacob's face from the win earlier, fell. He hated the thought of you not staying in Vancouver with him and not just because you were having his baby. He pushed the thought from his mind, as he wrapped an arm around your waist, hauling you close so he could drop a kiss to your forehead. "You could help a guy out you know." He finally told Erik.

 "Yeah, yeah. I'm sure (Y/N) knows what she's getting into."

 "Come on, we're leaving before you get Jacob into more trouble." Sarah came over to you then, pulling you from Jacob and giving you a hug. "When you're in town again, which I hope is soon, we'll have you over for dinner. I promise to make Erik be on his best behavior. Oh, and if you need someone to vote on you moving here or just talk about things, you have my number." She gave you a little wink then the two headed out of the building.

 When it was just you and Jacob, he finally asked you what he was dying to know since the moment he stepped off the ice. "Did you enjoy the game?"

 "It was great." Then you added because you knew he was fishing for it without actually asking himself. "You were amazing. You must have blocked a couple hundred shots. I don't know how you do it."

 "Not nearly that many," he chuckled, his arms encircling your waist.

 You let yours loop around his neck. "It seemed like that many." He just shook his head lightly. "Well, I still think you deserve a reward." You went up on your toes so you could kiss him.

 Just as it was turning heated, a voice had you breaking apart. "Get a room, Marky!"

 "Shut up DZ." You recognized him, from Vegas as the guy Jade was into, Michael Del Zotto. You were pretty sure Jade still had an interest in him, but she never admitted if the two of them had hooked up or not.

 "Good to see you again, (Y/N). Hope you'll be a more permanent fixture around here."

 "We'll see," you answered non-committally.

 "Let's head home," Jacob told you, taking your hand as you made your way out of the arena. "Maybe I can think of a way to convince you to stay."

 He definitely made a good argument once you were finally home, but sex with Jacob wasn't really an issue. The chemistry between the two of you was something you weren't worried about. It was all the stuff that happened out of the sheets, that you were worried about.

 While Jacob practiced in the morning, you worked again, so that when he got back you could head off to the OB/GYN. It was a bit awkward going to a doctor that you weren't familiar with, but then going to the gynecologist was never a fun experience. You supposed you were going to have to get used to it with how many appointments you'd have in the near future. The nurse showed you into the room and had you strip from the waist down. "Do you want me to wait outside?" Jacob offered.

 "Why? It's not like you haven't seen me naked before."

 His eyebrows picked up and you could see where his mind was going, but then he looked around and suddenly that look was gone. It made you laugh. It wasn't long before the doctor was coming in, thankfully a woman, which made it a bit more comfortable. "So, mom and dad are we ready for this?" You both nodded and she took the probe out, slipping a condom on it before inserting it inside you. You saw Jacob's eyes get round as saucer. You should've warned him that this would be a transvaginal ultrasound and not like the ones they show on tv. You grabbed his hand reassuringly to let him know you were fine. It took a second, but then a picture popped up on the screen. It literally looked like a blob. "Ah, there we go. See right there," she pointed out and you glued your eyes to where she pointed. "That's the baby."

 A few more seconds and you could hear this swooshing noise. "And that's its little heartbeat." For some reason you felt tears in your eyes, for it was the most amazing sound you'd ever heard. "It's nice and strong. That's what we like to hear." She did a few measurements checking things out here and there. All the while, you couldn't tear your eyes from the screen. It was only when you felt wetness on your hand that you turned to see Jacob crying as well.

 You looked up at him and just smiled. "I didn't think I would be this emotional over Blueberry." It was Jacob's admission but you felt the same way, and you had to swallow hard past all the emotions. You didn't want a baby, at least not at this moment in your life, but right now you wouldn't change a thing. You were in love with the tiny little blueberry on the screen and you felt like you could fall in love with its father as well.

 "Blueberry huh?" The doctor said breaking the moment. "Well, I'll print off some pictures of blueberry here for you, but everything looks great. I saw where you're already taking the prenatal vitamins and everything. You'll need to schedule another appointment either here or in LA at the twelve-week mark so the baby can be checked again. If you're doing it in LA you'll want to call and get orders for blood work and urine tests. If you decide to stay here, I'll go write them up now. Just let me know when you come out."

 She got up to leave then, but you stopped her. "Doctor," you gave Jacob's hand a squeeze. "Could you get them ready for me for when we leave and set me up with another appointment here?" She nodded then left the room.

 Jacob stood there dumbstruck. "Does this mean?"

 "Yeah, yeah it does." You sat up from the table to better look at him. "Looks like you've got yourself a roommate, Mr. Markstrom."  

taglist: @iculyrea​  @fiveholegoal​  @raysofcrosby @leafs-lover​ @sexysidney87​ @lovethepreds​  @miranda0102​  @stbluesbrat21  @perrieeloise  @mandypants95​  @hockeyunits​  @liz96893  @golfergirl1982​  @princessphilly​  @ajstylesworld​  @zinka8  @dontworrybeekappy​  @hiimana  @meishaabae​ @heatherawoowoo @beauvibaby @hockeybabe87 @leafs-forever @dancingonmyown87​ @himbos-on-ice

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Can u do a ethan x mc proposal but it does not go as planned but finally he proposes and she accepts please😁😁

“I’m not letting you plan date night anymore, because you give the most vague answers,” Naomi yells, her voice coming through string from the en-suite.

“I gave you very adequate information,” Ethan argues.

“You and I have different interpretations then. You won’t tell me where we’re going, you barely gave me a dress code.”

“I’m sorry, aren’t you the one who’s always saying that you look good in everything, no matter the occasion?”

Ethan nervously pats his jacket pocket for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. The small black ring box from Harry Winston is still there, and a bit of his anxiety ebbs away.

The ring has been burning a hole through his proverbial pocket from the moment it was purchased. There have been multiple occasions that Ethan has had to stop himself from blurting out, “Will you marry me?” to his unsuspecting girlfriend: while they’re eating dinner, on their way to work, in the middle of their dumb bickering.

So he’s been meticulously planning this proposal for 2 months now, and he has everything planned to a tee. It starts with dinner at one of Naomi’s favorite seafood restaurants downtown (he has an in with the owner and head chef), then they take a stroll through Boston Common and the Public Garden, admiring the ducks, smelling the roses before he eventually proposes. Ethan is a perfectionist and he wants the night to be perfect. He wants something they can look back on 10 years from now, 20 years from now with fondness, because Naomi deserves nothing less than that.

“I look amazing no matter the occasion,” Naomi quips. She steps out of the en-suite, and Ethan catches her slipping on a few bracelets. “But are we going to be by the water? Are these heels appropriate? Will I need a jacket?”

Ethan looks her up and down quickly, deciding that the faux leather skirt and sweater she’s wearing is a good enough outfit. “You look great, and the weather is perfect, you don’t need a jacket.”

“You better not just be saying that to rush me out the front door.”

That’s a good point, and one he hadn’t thought of yet. Ethan checks the time on his watch and inhales sharply. Their reservation is in 40 minutes, and it’s a Saturday night in Boston, so he expects congestion downtown. “Speaking of that, we need to go.”

“Alright, give me a few more minutes, Ramsey.”

“No, we need to go now, Naomi.”

Naomi knows her boyfriend is a stickler for order, but he’s been riding her ass all day over this date night. He’s never been this fussy before.

She saunters over to him, making a point to sway her hips as she does so. As soon as she’s within touching distance, Ethan wraps an arm around her waist as he pulls her close.

“We’re going to have a nice night tonight,” Naomi says. She presses her thumb to his forehead and massages away the worry lines. “You made me get all dolled up, and I flat ironed my hair, so I’m willing it into existence in hopes that my effort was not in vain.” Ethan doesn’t say anything but the corner of his mouth flits up, and Naomi counts it as a smile. “Now, can you stop being such a fuddy duddy?”

Ethan rolls his eyes at her immature vocabulary, but he nods nonetheless. “Only for you.”

“Good.” Naomi gives him a quick peck on the lips and pulls away before he can deepen it. “Now, let me put on my shoes and we can head out.”

~v~

“I’m sorry, we don’t have any reservations for Ethan Ramsey tonight.”

As soon as the words leave the host’s mouth, Ethan feels the blood in his veins pulsing with rage. There’s no way that’s possible, seeing as he made the reservation well over a month ago. 

“Check again,” Ethan grits out. The host stammers a bit, but he listens to the command nonetheless.

Naomi bites the inside of her cheek as she watches the scene play out in front of her. Ethan’s using his attending voice, the voice reserved for combative patients and interns.

“Again, there’s no reservation for you,” the host stammers. “Maybe, you picked a different–”

The young guy doesn’t even get to finish that thought, because Ethan shoots him a glare sharp enough to cut through steel.

“I didn’t ask for you to come up with any ideas on your own,” Ethan says, his jaw clenching so tight, it's a miracle it doesn’t snap. “What I need you to do is simply call Frank and tell him that Ethan Ramsey wants to speak with him.”

Frank, the owner of the restaurant and a former patient of Ethan’s, should be able to sort this all out.

A few minutes later, Ethan spots Frank walking towards the front of the restaurant. The two men lock eyes and Frank stops dead in his tracks upon seeing Ethan. He quickly schools his features, plastering a wide smile on his face before he approaches.

“Dr. Ramsey, so lovely to see you!”

Ethan isn’t feeling as friendly. He doesn’t return the smile or the pleasantries, just taking a few confident strides over to Frank, ushering him to a quiet corner. “Frank, remember when I personally spoke to you over a month ago and I told you I planned to propose tonight? I told you I wanted a reservation, and you told me that you’d personally see to it that I have the best seat in the house?”

Frank swallows hard and averts his gaze. Looking into the eyes of a pissed off Ethan Ramsey is something like staring at Medusa head-on. “I did say that, yes,” he concedes.

“So flash forward to tonight, why am I being told that there’s no reservation?”

“I apologize, Doctor. There’s clearly been a breakdown of communication between myself and my staff, and I take full responsibility.”

“As you should!” Ethan snaps. His voice goes up an octave, and a few patrons of the restaurant turn in his direction, startled by the outburst.

Okay, so being 38 years old and throwing a tantrum in public isn’t his best look. Taking a deep breath, Ethan counts to 3 and tries to regain his composure. So there’s no reservation, but maybe there’s a way this night can be salvaged.

“Well, just give us an available table, any one will do,” Ethan says. Franks wrings his hands together and Ethan doesn’t like the sight of it one bit.

“Unfortunately, we are fully booked for the evening.” Ethan’s nostrils flare and there’s a slight ringing in his ears at the admission. “But I can squeeze you in next weekend, at any time you want! And for the inconvenience, it’ll be on the house for you and the lovely lady.”

“If you think I’m ever stepping foot in this place ever again, you’re sorely mistaken.”

Ethan walks off and takes Naomi’s hand. She looks up at him, her gaze soft. “What happened?”

“They somehow forgot I made a reservation for tonight,” Ethan grumbles. “And we can't get a table because it’s packed. I’m sorry.”

Naomi frowns and squeezes Ethan’s hand. “Well it’s not your fault, so you don’t have to apologize to me. It’s their loss. I’m sorry because it’s clear that you put a lot of thought into this date night.”

She doesn’t even know the half of it, Ethan thinks to himself.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Naomi adds, tugging on her boyfriend.

“Where are we going?”

“A place with a lot less pomp and circumstance.”

They end up in a hole in the wall lobster shack near the harbor, eating lobster rolls and sharing a bowl of clam chowder. They’re the most overdressed couple visiting the establishment, earning interesting stares from the other patrons.

“You and I are slightly overdressed,” Ethan teases, awkwardly tugging the collar of his button-down.

Naomi looks around and then at herself before laughing. “I think I’m going to keep a spare change of clothes in your car just for nights like this. But I think we look very good. It’s always nice to not have to wear scrubs.”

“Again, I’m sorry about the reservation at Frank’s not working out. I know it’s one of your favorite restaurants.”

“True, but I’ll survive. For now, I’m content just being here with you.” Ethan watches as Naomi opens a pack of saltine crackers, crushes them in the palm of her hand and pours them into the bowl of chowder. He pulls a face, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by the young resident.

“I can feel you judging me, Ramsey,” Naomi says.

“I’m just observing your messy eating habits, Valentine,” he shoots back. He briefly wonders if she’ll want to keep her maiden name. Will she stay Dr. Valentine? Dr. Ramsey? Dr. Valentine-Ramsey? It’s an outdated tradition, adopting a new last name upon marriage, but the thought of her becoming Naomi Ramsey makes him excited. It rolls off the tongue rather nicely.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been staring at her, but now Naomi is looking back at him. “Hello, earth to Ethan.”

It snaps him out of his daze and he blinks a few times in an attempt to regain his bearings. “Huh?”

“You keep staring at me. Do I have something on my face?”

“No, you’re fine. I guess I just got caught up in looking at you.”

Even though the lighting in the lobster shack is dim, Ethan can still see the apples of Naomi’s cheeks turning red.

While things at the restaurant didn’t turn out like he planned, this, just being here with Naomi as she devours the clam chowder that they were supposed to share, feels extremely right.

His hand tingles and the urge to whip out the ring box, right here, right now is strong. Just do it!

Don’t even think about it!

Stop being an idiot and ask her already!

The tiny voice in his head only grows louder the more seconds tick on. Impulsively, he reaches forward and grabs Naomi’s hand, stopping her from bringing her spoon to her mouth. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Naomi says back. “But can you not grab my hand while I’m trying to eat?”

Ethan drops her hand quickly, flushing as he does so. “I wanted to take you out tonight because I wanted to celebrate with you. This past year and a half has been–”

“Help! Help!”

The shrill cry cuts Ethan short and he head snaps around to find the source of the noise. He sees a woman frantically standing over a coughing man. The man is clutching his throat, his face turning an ugly shade of purple. He’s choking.

Naomi and Ethan lock eyes with each other before they both abandon their table and rush forward to help, never able to turn off the fact that they’re doctors.

Ethan sighs, as the moment has been thoroughly ruined. So maybe proposing in the lobster shack won’t be happening.

~v~

So dinner was a bust two times over for the evening, but Ethan tries his hardest to stay optimistic. It’s a beautiful night, the weather is calm, and the Common is surprisingly sparse for a weekend night, so he and Naomi don’t have to deal with too many people.

“This has been an eventful night,” Ethan says.

“You mean you don’t get turned away from a 4-star restaurant and then perform the Heimlich on lobster shack patrons every day?”

“No, it’s usually one or the other. More of the life saving, less getting turned away at restaurants.”

“Well, at least I’ll have an interesting story to tell my friends at work.”

They stop at a bench, right in front of the giant weeping willow, Naomi’s favorite part of the park and sit down. She rests her head on his shoulder, sighing deeply.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting tired already?”

“It was a long week at work,” Naomi says, feeling the need to defend herself. “My boss has been working me like crazy. Not to mention, it’s been a busy day.”

Ethan chuckles and kisses the top of her head, inhaling the scent of shampoo. “Your boss sounds like a real piece of work.”

“Yes, but I let him get away with it because I love him.”

“He’s sounds like a lucky man.”

“He is.”

A family of ducks trots past their feet, earning a few coos and smiles from Naomi, though she otherwise leaves them alone to roam.

A comfortable silence settles between the two of them, neither one of them deeming it necessary to speak. Finally after all of the chaos the past few hours threw at them, it’s nice to just sit in quiet.

Is now finally a good time? Ethan thinks to himself. Surely nothing else can impede on the proposal, as the universe has screwed with him enough for one night.

The wind picks up slightly, a strong gusts makes a few tendrils of Naomi’s hair fly into her face, and she huddles closer to him, trying to steal his body heat. He wraps his arm around her shoulder, holding her tight against him.

“I’ve been driving myself crazy all day trying to think of a way to broach this with you,” Ethan starts, breaking the silence.

“Broach what?”

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking recently. Mostly about us, especially with you being in your third year of residency, and how our future might look because of that.”

The hair on the back of her neck stands up, but Naomi doesn’t fully know why. Why does Ethan want to talk about their future? Why did he feel the need to take her out on the date in order to start the conversation?

The wind picks up again, and this time, Naomi hears thunder clap somewhere close by. “Is it supposed to rain tonight?”

“What? No.” Ethan checked the weather more times than he’d care to admit. It’s supposed to be a perfect evening in Boston.

“Are you sure?” 

Naomi sounds skeptical, and Ethan huffs. “Rookie, trust me, if there’s one thing I’ve done today, it’s check weather reports.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Ethan feels it. A single drop of moisture hits his cheek.

It doesn’t take long after that first raindrop for the others to come. In a quick burst, the rain falls, harsh and heavy.

Naomi shrieks and stands up, trying to look for shelter. Ethan isn’t as quick as she is, as he’s still stuck on the fact that it’s raining.

The pure absurdity of the day is so ridiculous, and a low chuckle forms low in his throat until he’s actually laughing. He laughs hard, the force of it actually making him clutch his side.

Ethan looks up at the sky, uncaring that the rain is pelting him relentlessly. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Ethan, what are you doing?” Naomi asks. “You’re going to get soaked!”

“My car is on the other side of the park, we’re going to get soaked regardless.”

“So you want to, what? Just sit in the rain?”

“Yes.”

“Come on, now isn’t the time for petulance,” Naomi says. She grabs Ethan’s hand and tries to tug him up, but he doesn’t budge.

“No. I have spent weeks trying to plan the perfect date for you, and it’s been a shitshow from start to finish. For some reason, the universe has decided that today isn’t my day, so instead of fighting it, I’m going to lean into it.”

Naomi rolls her eyes. Ethan has been beating himself up over this night not going the way he wanted it to, and she doesn’t understand why. Yes, Naomi likes fancy restaurants as much as the next girl, but she’s never been a high maintenance diva, nor has she ever demanded that Ethan be perfect. 

“Why have you been putting so much pressure on tonight?” Naomi asks.

“For you!”

“I never asked you to! Now stop being such a baby and let’s go home!”

Ethan sighs and drudges himself up. His now soaking wet clothes make the task more difficult than it should be as now he feels 10 pounds heavier.

“I’m not being a baby,” Ethan argues.

“You’re acting like one.”

“You’re a blanket hog.”

The statement is so random, it makes Naomi do a double take. “What?”

“You’re a blanket hog,” Ethan repeats. “And you always put your freezing cold feet on mine when we’re in bed. You have a terrible singing voice, but I love listening to you when we’re at home. Your grooming products have completely taken over my bathroom, and it’s fine, because I love the smell of whatever fruity shower gel you use. You spend way too much time watching inaccurate medical dramas for a woman that graduated top of her class at Johns Hopkins. You steal my food, as evidenced by the fact that you completely hijacked the clam chowder we were sharing. You drive me insane, and it’s been that way from the moment we met, but I wouldn’t have it any other way, because I love you.”

“I love the way your nose crinkles when you smile. I love the way you speak French when you’re mad at me. I love that you spoil Jenner. I love how passionate you are and how you’re willing to fight for people you care about, especially your patients. I love that you aren’t afraid to challenge me, whether it’s about work or something at home. I love that you have always believed in me, even when I was so stupid to believe in myself.”

Ethan reaches into his pocket and pulls out the small ring box before dropping down on one knee. Just seeing him do that is enough to earn a gasp of shock from Naomi.

“Ethan?” She can’t breathe. She can’t think. The only thing Naomi can hear is the sound of her beating heart. “What’s in the box?”

“What do you think is in the box?”

“I think it’s an engagement ring.” With trembling fingers, Ethan slowly opens the box, revealing the stunning 4 carat cushion cut diamond.

“You’d be correct.”

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes, of course I’ll marry you!”

“Oh no. After all the trouble I went through, you have to let me get through my entire speech.”

“Okay.”

“I didn’t see you coming at all. I wasn’t looking for love when you came into my life, and I was quite content being single. But little by little, you broke through and made yourself a permanent fixture in my life, and I’ve been all the better for it. You have all of me, mind, body, and soul, and usually the thought of relinquishing so much control terrifies me, but not with you. You are smart, and kind, and outspoken, and beautiful, and compassionate, and I don’t know what I did in this lifetime or the last one to deserve you, but I intend on spending the rest of my days being someone worthy of you. So, Naomi Marie Valentine, will you marry me?”

The tears are flowing freely, and Naomi can hardly see anymore, but she nods nonetheless. “Y-yes!”

“Yes?”

“Yes!”

Ethan doesn’t waste another second, plucking the ring out of the box and sliding it onto Naomi’s left ring finger. Once the ring is securely on, he stands up and wraps his arms around her waist, lifting her into the air slightly.

As soon as her feet are back on the ground and she’s steady again, Naomi grabs Ethan’s face and pulls him into a kiss. Neither of them seem to mind the fact that it’s still pouring, the cold rain seeping through their clothes.

“I love you,” Naomi says quickly, before pulling Ethan into another kiss.

“I love you too.”

“And though things didn’t work out the way you wanted them to, this proposal was perfect.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Because of this, I got my cliche kiss in the rain.”

Ethan smiles. He hadn’t thought of it like that. “That’s true.”

“And think about it, I think this will be a much more interesting story to tell our future kids someday.”

“You make some excellent points, future Missus Ramsey.”

A thrill courses through her at the name. “Mhmm, I like the sound of that.”

“Good, because that’s what I’m going to be calling you for the rest of our lives.”

~v~

Tags: @aylamreads @fanmantrashcan @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @writinghereandthere @paulfwesley @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramsey @the-soot-sprite @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @trappedinfandoms @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @theeccentricbibliophile @cecilecontrera @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @kaavyaethanramsey @caseyvalentineramsey @desmaranj @whatchique @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @mvalentine @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey 

[ericsonclan]

The Words I Always Wanted to Say

Summary

Overall Word Count

Chapter 1: The day of the proposals arrives with neither member of the couple suspecting what's in store.

Aasim had felt like puking all day. It wasn’t the sort of mood he’d hoped to be in on the day of his proposal, but he knew deep inside that postponing it wouldn’t make him feel any better. He’d already rescheduled three times and each day that was supposed to be the day had brought the same queasiness. His nerves would get to him no matter what. He simply had to power through.

Still, if he waited a bit longer then maybe he could rethink the whole picnic aspect of the proposal and spare his stomach the struggle…. No. Clementine would kill Aasim if he told her he was moving back his plans again. She’d already given him enough grief about the ring he’d held onto for a year. If he rescheduled for a fourth time, Clem wouldn’t need to throw Aasim to the walkers. She’d bite off his head herself.

Walking toward the front of the courtyard, Aasim spotted the object of his affections, his one true love. Ruby was making conversation with Clementine, something about the weather and what they should do about the vegetable garden if things got too stormy. Clementine spotted Aasim coming their way and excused herself, giving Aasim a knowing look before walking off. She and Omar were going hunting today.

Ruby noticed Aasim coming toward her a moment later. Turning toward him with a smile, she started to speak just as he did.

“Do you-” Both of them paused, waiting for the other to speak but the silence lasted a moment too long and they both started again. “I wanted to ask-” They stopped again, chuckling at their timing.

“You go first,” Ruby said, waiting patiently.

Aasim cleared his throat, swallowing the lump in it before he spoke again. “I was thinking today would be lovely for a picnic. Are you free?”

Ruby’s brows furrowed slightly. “Well, actually, I had some work I needed to finish up in the greenhouse,”

“I can wait,” Aasim leaned back against the picnic table, trying his best to look casual.

“Actually, it could take a while. Maybe you’d like to join me?” A small smile played on Ruby’s lips.

“…No. We need to do the picnic. Now,”

“But you just said you could wait,”

“I-I lied!” Aasim could feel his face heating up. This was a terrible start. Maybe he should abort today’s proposal after all.

Just as Ruby was about to say something further though, Prisha’s hand appeared on Ruby’s shoulder. “It’s alright, Ruby. I can make sure everything is sorted out in the greenhouse. It’ll be ready for you once you’re done with your picnic,” She looked meaningfully into the redhead’s eyes till Ruby sighed and nodded.

“Alright. It can wait a bit longer, I guess,” Turning back to Aasim, she slipped her warm hand into his. “Now whereabouts did you say this picnic was?”

“If you’ll just follow me…” Aasim turned toward the admin building, his breathing gradually returning to normal. His heart however still beat a frantic staccato within his chest. As they walked, he looked down at his love. “I’m sorry if I was forceful back there. It wasn’t my intention,”

“I know,” Ruby gave her boyfriend’s hand a small squeeze, a soft smile on her face. “It’s sweet of you to put a surprise together for me. My plans can wait,”

“As soon as our picnic is done, I can head over to the greenhouse with you and help finish up whatever work needs to be done,”

“That’d be heavenly,” The sparkle in Ruby’s eyes set Aasim’s heart fluttering. He knew how much the greenhouse meant to her. And time spent together after the proposal, just the two of them, sharing kisses over the planters full of turnips and tubers, would be the perfect ending to what Aasim hoped would be a truly magical day.

Ascending the staircase within the admin building, the pair made their way to the headmaster’s office. Ruby looked round in mild confusion. “Are we grabbing snacks from here and then heading out?”

“Actually, I had a special spot in mind for our picnic today,” Aasim nodded toward the double doors that led out to the balcony. Ruby quirked an eyebrow then headed over to the closed doors. Opening them slowly, she gasped when she saw the spread set out before them.

A faded gingham picnic blanket held the treasure trove of treats Aasim had amassed in the last few weeks. A multi-tiered tea tray constructed out of welded pieces of scrap metal held a multitude of tiny sandwiches. Each was composed out of a pair of old saltines with various fillings in the center from sliced spam to stewed rabbit Omar had prepped in the fashion of pulled pork to garden veggie sandwiches with all manner of fresh vegetables nestled between the stale crackers. Beside the tea tray lay their three teapots, each chipped and broken but still retaining their original dignity and grace. The varied aromas drifting from them told Ruby they each held a different blend of tea. Their finest set of china was also stacked neatly to the side, ready for fine dining. A cracked porcelain container held a good portion of the sparse supply of sugar the group had stowed away accompanied by a small jar Ruby knew to be the last of their honey. A huge bouquet composed of various wildflowers gave the finishing touch to the romantic display.

“Oh, Aasim…” Ruby was at a loss for words as she took everything in.

Silently, Aasim wrapped his arms round Ruby and gently kissed her cheek as he hugged her from behind. “I wanted to put together a surprise worthy of you,”

“This is all too much! Why, if we use up the last of the sugar-”

“Then I’ll trade for more. Don’t worry, my dove. I always find a way,” Loosening his embrace, Aasim sat upon the picnic blanket and motioned for Ruby to do the same.

The two of them settled in for a decadent lunch, both of them eating their fill as the world went by around them, the clouds drifting lazily across the warm, sunny sky as the day went on. As Aasim poured another cup of chamomile tea for Ruby, he found himself lost for a moment in her bright blue eyes. He really could stay like this forever with her. And that’s exactly what this proposal meant: a promise of forever. Not just for things to stay the same but for them to build a future together. Feeling the panic rise within once more, Aasim did his best to keep his composure.

“Something bugging ya, Pookie?” Ruby looked at Aasim over the rim of her teacup as she took a sip.

“It’s nothing, my love,” Aasim paused for a moment, looking out at the courtyard below. Willy was on watch with AJ beside him. Both boys were chatting excitedly, clearly intrigued by something just beyond the walls. Likely a funny looking walker knowing those two. Louis and Violet were at the picnic benches, Louis mending a pair of pants while Violet worked on one of the rabbit hides she was in the process of tanning. Prisha had just emerged from the cellar with a box full of metal pipes balanced in her good arm, likely continuing her seemingly endless quest to restore the school’s plumbing. Turning back to Ruby, Aasim grinned. “Do you know why I chose the balcony for our picnic today?”

“The view?” Ruby mused, glancing through the repair section of the railing down at their friends below.

“That was certainly a factor, but not entirely the full reason. I wanted us to have our lunch up here in order to celebrate all we’ve accomplished. From up here you can see it all: the greenhouse, the vegetable garden, the paddock for Molly, Milky Way and Comet. Even a few years ago, we didn’t have any of those things. It shows how far we’ve come, and I think a primary factor in our success is each other. Together, you and I truly can accomplish anything, even returning a former wilderness to civilization,”

Ruby nodded, admiring their work along with Aasim. “We certainly have accomplished a lot these past few years. And that’s thanks in no small part to you. I don’t think anybody could compete with your work ethic, ‘Sim, not even me,”

“Oh, I doubt that,” Aasim turned back to Ruby, his eyes on her. “Perhaps it isn’t the most romantic thing to say, but one of the things that first drew me to you was seeing how hard you worked. Every day, rain or shine, without fail. At first I thought it was simply a matter of pride, as it is with me. But the longer I observed you, the more I realized why you really work so hard. It’s out of love. You work so that those you love can have better lives and I can’t think of anything nobler than that,”

“Sounds like you were watching me for quite some time,” Ruby looked down at the picnic blanket, her cheeks ruddier than usual. “Now that I think about it, I never asked you what the moment was that made you realize you were falling for me,”

“I don’t think it was any one moment. For a long time, I saw my admiration of you simply as mutual respect. But as the years went on, my feelings gradually shifted into something more. Seeing you grow from the girl who stole my pencil case on my first day at Ericson into such a beautiful, fiery woman of integrity and valor, I can’t remember when I crossed that line from liking to loving you. But I do know this, Ruby O’Donnel. I have loved you for a long, long time,”

Reaching into his pocket, Aasim pulled out the wedding ring. He’d spent the last few weeks polishing it night after night till it glowed with its original radiance once more. It was far too large for Ruby’s finger, likely a man’s ring before, but the beauty of the symbol was there nonetheless. Shifting so that he knelt with one knee forward just as he’d always seen it done in books and long-lost movies, Aasim held up the ring in both hands. “Ruby, my love, will you marry me?”

Ruby was quiet for a second. Then another. Aasim could feel his heart pounding in his ears as he held his pose wondering if someway, somehow, this had been the wrong move to make. Finally, Ruby broke the silence. “I want to show you something. Come with me,”

She could tell Aasim was nervous. Hell, she would be too if he’d left her high and dry after asking the question first. Ruby felt a twinge of guilt at leaving him so perplexed just for the sake of her pride, but she couldn’t say yes just yet. There was something she needed to do first, the very thing she’d been planning in the greenhouse before Aasim sprung the surprise picnic upon her. It wasn’t far to the greenhouse. Once they were there, he’d see why she’d brought him.

The courtyard was empty as they walked through it and the area surrounding the greenhouse too. Aasim looked more and more nervous with each step he took but followed Ruby willingly, obliging her when she opened the greenhouse door for him and motioned for Aasim to enter first. As soon as he did, Aasim let out a reverent gasp.

The entire greenhouse was aglow with candlelight. Mason jars of purple, red and green covered every inch of the space, lined up along the shelves, on the edges of planters, tucked along the sides of the walkways and even a few suspended above them. Some strands of twinkle lights also ran along the bases of the planters, bartered in a recent trade Aasim had been a part of. Flower petals were scattered over the ground, all leading to a central point before their feet. The petals there formed a simple message: I love you.

“Do you like it?” Ruby whispered, causing Aasim to turn round.

“Ruby, I… it’s glorious,” Aasim’s voice caught a bit, his eyes watering lightly.

“Now that you’ve seen it, I bet you’ve figured out why I wanted to go so badly to the greenhouse earlier today. And why I didn’t want to say yes just yet. Cause first I want to say my piece,” Clearing her throat, Ruby pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper from her pocket and began to read. “My love, I can’t remember the first time my eyes turned in your direction in that special way. I’d always thought you were cute, but considering that our early days started with me being more than a bit of a bully to ya, I never thought anything would come of that. Then the world fell apart and we were both so busy surviving I didn’t even let myself believe love was anywhere in my future.

But somewhere along the way, deep within my heart of hearts, I think I always wanted it to be you. Truth be told, our first kiss might have happened a couple days sooner if you’d just asked more politely. I’m happy with the way things ended up though. I’ll never forget our first kiss and I’ll never stop thanking the good Lord you came back to me that day.

This has been something I’ve wanted to do for a while. More than a while, probably from the very start. But I had all sorts of silly thoughts in my head that you had to be the one to propose first or it wouldn’t be proper. That was all a load of horse apples though. So, I put all this together to ask you a question, a question I hope you’ll answer the way I’ve been dreaming. Aasim…” Ruby paused, fishing something out of her pocket. Lifting it up, she revealed a tiny, glittery pink ring, so small it would probably only fit on Aasim’s pinky. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes! Yes!” Before either of them could say anything further, Aasim cupped Ruby’s face and pressed his lips to hers in a deep kiss. That kiss turned to another then another till finally Aasim pulled back and took the ring Ruby had offered. Slipping it as far down as it would go onto his pinky, Aasim held his hand out to admire it.

“Darn, it’s an even worse fit than I thought,” Ruby mumbled. “I’ve been searching all over God’s green earth for a proper ring of some sort and all I could scrounge up was this dress up ring I had from way back before the school even fell,”

“I love it,” Reaching toward the table behind her, Aasim grabbed a length of twine and the gardening shears and snipped off a portion of it. Slipping the ring onto the twine, he tied it around his neck, letting the ring rest just below the zipper on his hoodie. “Honestly, mine is probably an awful fit too. It’s embarrassing really,”

“Are you kidding? You propose with a bona fide gold ring while I use a cereal box prize and you’re acting as if it’s the same thing?” Ruby shook her head, taking the twine and scissors from him and cutting her own piece. Gingerly taking the ring from Aasim, Ruby looped it though the twine then tied it round her neck where it lay snugly just below the collar of her shirt.

The two of them smiled at each other, lost in the happiness of the moment before chuckles escaped their lips.

“I can’t believe it,” Aasim murmured, shaking his head. “For both of us to choose the exact same day… what are the odds? When you didn’t answer my proposal and brought me down to the greenhouse instead, I wasn’t sure what to expect, perhaps a rejection, but certainly not this.”

“Now that’s the silliest thing I ever heard!” Ruby exclaimed, lightly whacking her betrothed on the arm. “As if I’d ever say no to you! I just didn’t want you to steal my thunder!” Her eyes turned to the greenhouse, admiring the décor. “Thank goodness Prisha knew the last few pieces of the plan to get this greenhouse gussied up. I don’t know what would have happened without her help,”

“Prisha knew? She and Willy were the ones who made that tea tray for the picnic! She was in on both plans,” Aasim looked toward the door. “Was she the only one who helped you set this up?”

“Well, Louis was involved too. He was the first one I told about the proposal,”

“And if Louis knew then Clementine knew. Clem was the first one I confided in about the ring,”

The couple shared a look. How far did the others’ involvement go? The courtyard had suddenly been empty as they were heading toward the greenhouse. Was it still empty now? Hand in hand, the pair opened the door and stepped outside.

The courtyard was no longer empty after all. In fact, everyone was there. The others stood round one of the picnic tables, chattering excitedly. As soon as they saw Aasim and Ruby though, they suddenly went quiet. That was until AJ stepped forward.

“Happy wedding!” he shouted, tossing a handful of tinsel into the air. Willy joined him, throwing his own handful and blowing enthusiastically on an old kazoo.

“Boys, remember, it’s ‘happy engagement,’” Prisha corrected gently before her eyes returned to the happy pair. “Congratulations, you two. We couldn’t be happier for you,”

“It’s like I’m giving away my own children,” Louis commented, wiping a mock tear from his eye. “They grow up so fast,”

Clementine shook her head good-naturedly, taking Louis’ hand in hers. “Congratulations, both of you. Seeing as we all knew both your plans, we’ve been working on a little surprise of our own,”

“It’s PANCAKE DAY!” Willy shouted, jumping around ecstatically. Omar lifted up a plate of pancakes that had been hidden on the picnic benches, Violet holding a second plate. Both of them smiled at the happy couple.

Aasim and Ruby shared a smile of their own then stepped forward, joining the group for the celebratory feast. The day hadn’t gone how either of them had expected, yet it had blossomed into something more beautiful than they’d ever dreamed. As Ruby sat down at the picnic table, Aasim’s hand in hers, her family surrounding her, her cheeks glowed with excitement. “Let’s get to planning some weddings!”

[thesolitarystripe]

Edna Briggs-Writing Prompt # I’ve Lost Cont

Today's entry was suggested by my best friend, Chenoa. This entire premise was hers and despite my encouragement that she write it; she did not feel like she could. So, I told her I would write it for her. I hope this is what she envisioned, equal parts sad and wholesome.

Enjoy my dearest!

“How long will it be tomorrow, Edna?”

“Sixty-five years.”

“Sixty-five. That’s right…”

The man knew very well how many years it would be that he and his wife would celebrate their marriage. Sixty-five years, tomorrow. Wrinkled hands found more delicate ones, pallid and cool to the touch.

“You still…can’t remember.” There was a weak puff of laughter as Edna turned her head and regarded her husband warmly.

“That’s why I need you here Edna,” at this, the man’s voice cracked with the tightness that formed in his throat. “I’ll never even remember to feed myself.” The pair chuckled softly. Edna patted the top of her husband’s hands.

“Yes, you will Jim.”

That was all she said as she smiled through brimming tears. Edna laid in the comfort of a hospital bed within her own home, in her living room, to be exact. The couple had a large family, and their bedroom was so small that Jim barely fit inside next to both the new and old beds. So, their five children deemed it necessary to move Edna into the main room so that they all could sit beside her—them and their ten grandchildren. It had been two years now that Edna was on hospice and an amazing feat considering the doctors thought she would pass on within the first six months. Edna clung to life the way she held fast to Jim’s hand, with nothing but love and enthusiasm. It was noticeable now, perhaps only to Jim, that Edna’s fingers did not grab hold so hard. In the slipping of her fingers, he felt the waning of her soul and it brought his head down upon her chest as she breathed in and out. So long as he could hear that thrum of her heart, he would know peace. Into the early morning hours, they whispered between them of all life had brought. They shared tender kisses and caresses that Jim desperately fought to commit to memory. Each tickle of her fingers at the back of his neck was etched into his bones and stored away in every fiber of his muscles. Jim would not forget. Somehow, Jim fell asleep. A grown man of ninety-five laid on his wife’s chest, back hunched forward and his arms draped over her; one behind her head and the other over her thighs. Jim fell asleep. When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the look of absolute tranquility upon Edna’s beautiful features. Without moving, speaking, or thinking, Jim knew. Edna was no longer on this plane but, she had made it to midnight. They celebrated their sixty-fifth anniversary in the darkness of their living room.

The days that passed next were a blur. Perhaps one day, Jim would come to and the memories of Edna’s memorial service, her funeral, the crowds of people that came to honor her memory; maybe he would recall it. Today, he sat silently in his living room, the vacant hospital bed beside him. A few of his children were bustling in the kitchen, cooking, and making sure Jim had easy options for food because the man was proficient with a grill and that was about it.

“Papa, we cut up some fresh fruit it’s in the fridge. Make sure you eat it up, so it doesn’t go bad.” Jim’s oldest granddaughter was talking to him, but Jim was in his cushioned armchair, staring out the sliding glass door that led to their patio. All of Edna’s flowers popped vibrantly against the emerald hues of their meticulously watered grass. Jim wondered if it would all die within a few short hours once the little garden realized its tender was gone. That was good, appropriate, even. The flowers should no longer grow if Edna did not keep them; just as the sun should not rise or fall so long as Edna’s chest was still. Jim looked up at the blinding rays of the celestial body. It seemed he had not yet convinced the star to cease its normal cycle because how could life possibly go on without Edna Briggs. How, could it.

Eventually, Jim’s children and grandchildren left. He was sure it was not an easy choice for them. While he was absentminded and aloof, it did not go unnoticed the way they lingered in the doorway or how they looked at him with concern in their eyes. Jim waved them off with a brave little smile. Then they were gone, and the house was horribly quiet. There was no talk of the gossip at Bingo, no asking what time ‘Jeopardy’ would be on even though it came on every night at the same time; there was a lingering aroma of food, but it was not Edna’s cooking. Jim sat in his armchair. Jim stewed in the silence and looked out the back door until the light dissolved and nighttime fell. This was how he passed most of his days for a week. People called; he did not answer. The only communication he managed was a short text asking his children not to come—he needed time. Jim ate halfheartedly but per his granddaughter’s wishes, he did not let the fruit go bad. She had worked so hard, after all. It was on the sixth night that Jim finally turned on the television. There had been no sound for so long that it almost felt like an intrusion to hear the people in the commercials talking. He left it on and eventually, he fell asleep in his chair with one hand resting on the end of the hospital bed. That was how they had gone to bed many times over the last two years.

Jim was snoring for several hours when a sound finally woke him from his dreamless stasis. It was not the incessant dinging of bells on whatever game show had just come on—he had slept through that many times. There was a clink in the kitchen. Jim and Edna had no pets and had lived alone for a number of years after their children grew up. In Jim’s mind, there was no reason for any part of their home to be making noise unless someone else was in it. As that thought occurred to him, Jim grew very still, eyes wide open and desperately peering through the darkness. Jim had never felt scared but as he sat, totally alone, he felt that sick heat creep into his belly and spread like fire through his veins. The man was paralyzed in his chair, sinking deeper and deeper each time he heard that clinking noise. It was different and seemed to be moving around the kitchen. There was a certain tone of the porcelain in the sink when it was hit; it was very different from the sound that was produced when the marble countertops were bumped or the wooden cabinets. From what he could hear, it sounded like someone was cooking a full meal inside his kitchen. Jim’s jaw clenched. This was silly. The man, finding all the courage of his younger years rolled to his feet and turned to look back. The kitchen was in full view from the living room, there were no walls separating the adjoined spaces. So, when he looked, there was no mistaking what he saw. There was nothing to block him and his glasses were poised on the bridge of his long nose. Jim’s jaw went slack, and he was certain he was either dead or on his way to the grave.

“Edna, what in the hell are you doing?” The little old lady looked exactly the way Jim had last seen her save for the color in her cheeks. That ever-present vibrancy that Edna had when she was alive, her youthful glow, it had returned with a new fullness.

“Well excuse me, Jim, I’m making your late-night snack like I always do. I am more than happy to stop if you’re going to take that attitude with me.” Jim stared. Jim stared for a long time, so long that Edna rolled her eyes. “Tuna fish and saltine crackers, it’s your favorite.” A small plate plopped onto the counter and slid toward Jim. The man looked down for a moment but immediately brought his gaze back to Edna for fear she might vanish.

“Honey, I don’t know how to tell you this but—”

“I’m dead! I know that Jim, I’m not stupid. Someone’s got to come along and take care of you. You said it yourself a week ago, you’ll forget to eat. Then what? Then I have to spend eternity with you too?” Edna smiled after that. It was full of knowingness and patience because she was, indeed, fully aware of her circumstances.

“The—the…the grandkids…they left some food—Edna! How…” Jim was taking cautious steps forward and he found himself vaguely wondering if there was some sort of technology, he wasn’t aware of that could project life-like images of loved ones into your home. Was this some sort of invention created for coping with loss? Jim’s brown eyes did a quick scan of the kitchen. He saw no indication of a projector. There was nothing out of place in his old kitchen, except for a perfectly intact Edna standing in the middle of it.

“Simple. I didn’t want to leave,” Edna shrugged and gave the plate another inch toward Jim. The man had approached and was well within range of the plate now. He looked at Edna incredulously before he swooped in and wrapped his arms around her. She was whole and smelled like his favorite perfume; she had worn it every day since they had met. Jim wasn’t fully aware of it, but he was weeping. Into the meticulously done curls that framed Edna’s head and neck. That familiar tickle of her fingers at the nape of his neck only made him cry harder because his memory had failed him. In the short time away from his wife, Jim had already forgotten what the scrape of her nails felt like on his skin. Edna embraced her husband in the kitchen, endlessly. Only when he was ready to lift his head did she take a small step back and smile up at him. “They really should change that whole ‘till death do us part' bit. It doesn’t have to end there, not if you don’t want it to.” Jim laughed. For the first time in a week, he was smiling, and it felt like rust was crumbling off all the unused facial muscles.

“Well…what do we do?”

“What do we do? Jim I’m going to sit down and watch my shows, it’s only ten-thirty. Now eat!” Jim was given the plate of crackers. He tested its weight; he poked the bottom of it to see if his finger would go through. It didn’t. Finally, he ate a cracker with a scoop of Edna’s infamous tuna salad, and it tasted like home. Jim was not sure if he was crazy or if the Lord had bestowed a miraculous blessing upon him but, he would not question the extra time. Quickly, he shuffled after Edna who was crawling into the hospital bed already glued to the television. Jim sat in his armchair munching and constantly glancing over at Edna to make sure she didn’t get swept away into the ethers.

This was how life went on. Learning the extent of Edna’s abilities happened quickly. Jim soon learned that his children nor his grands could see her despite her standing in the foyer to greet them alongside her husband. No one else saw Edna. She did, one time, touch a dishrag without thinking and when it moved on its own their eldest son yelped and jumped away from it. Jim quickly offered up that it was simply the wind from the open window in the kitchen. Luckily, that was all it took to convince his son that there were no ghosts in the house. All the while, Jim looked at Edna who had her little hand over her mouth, giggling. Edna got to enjoy her family from a distance, something that both made her happy and hurt her. Jim could see the longing in her eyes as Edna sank to the floor to sit by their grandchildren who played, oblivious that grandma was right beside them. There was much that Jim found cruel about Edna’s current existence. While she cooked and cleaned and took care of Jim as well as she had in her living days—she could not enjoy the material things of the mortal world. Edna could watch television, listen to music, and sit beside Jim while holding his hand. She did not get to taste food or hug her kids; she did not have the luxury of soothing her grandbabies or walking outside. Edna had tried to leave the house multiple times, only to tend to her garden but every door in the home seemed to be a wall. Edna could not leave. The pair existed within the living room and kitchen. Eating and watching television. This was their new routine. Edna did not sleep; she didn’t need to. She would stay up and watch Jim, hold his hand, pet his hair; anything to keep her busy through the hours he was not conscious of her. As the months passed, Jim watched these realities affect her though Edna never complained.

One evening, the couple sat watching another ‘Jeopardy’ rerun. They chuckled a little here and there. Edna had made Jim a small platter of cut up meat, cheese, and crackers. She was always feeding him much to his family’s approval—they had predicted Jim would lose weight in the following months after Edna’s passing. They had no idea she still wandered through the home.

“Edna.”

“Yes, dear?”

“How long are you going to stay?”

“That’s a funny question. Funny, because the answer is obvious, isn’t it?” Jim looked at her with a blank expression. “I’m staying until it’s your time.”

“Do you know when that is?”

“No. That’s none of my business, even as a ghost.”

“It could be years.”

“It could be.”

“My grandfather and my father lived past one hundred.”

“Yes, yes, you have good genes. I know.” Edna said it with an air of annoyance like they had this discussion many times over when she was alive.

“My point is, you could be doing this for five more years if not more.”

“You could also die tomorrow,” she quipped.

“Are you going to live every day hoping I die tomorrow?” At this, Edna laughed and shook her head.

“No. Of course not Jim, I want you to enjoy every second of life. Watch the babies grow, watch our bigger babies grow even more. Feel the sun on your face. Tend to my flowers. Eat good food.”

“And what about you?” Jim was very serious, and the tone of his voice had changed from amiable and inquisitive to firm.

“What about me?”

“I suppose you think it’s fine for you to keep on living in this undead existence. Where you get to experience none of the pleasures you just listed off for me.”

“I get to be with my husband. That is the greatest pleasure.”

“Is it, Edna? I see how much you want to hold those grandbabies. The look on your face while I’m eating something you’ve made but you can’t even taste it. Is this really existing at all?” Edna looked at Jim. There was a long discussion had between them, without words. Jim’s eyes were glossy in the way that spoke of tears unarrived but waiting in the trenches. The line of his mouth was hard set and that horrible lump in his throat was thicker than before. It had taken him months to realize it; to see the selfishness of what he did. Jim kept Edna here. It was a blatant fact. No one else could see her, they had accepted her death and let her spirit soar free. Jim did not. Jim carried the burden of damning his wife to this listless life as a specter when she was deserving of so much more. “Edna, you have done what you needed to in this life, tenfold. You raised a beautiful family, we did, together but we both know who did most of the work. I am not blind to that. You have been an excellent grandmother to those babies, and they will grow up to know unconditional love and how to bake the best pies for Christmas. You took care of me, God, you still are! Even in death. This is not your eternal rest, Edna. This is not the peace you have earned after such a full life. It was full, wasn’t it?”

Edna sat on the edge of the hospital bed, legs dangling, hands folded in her lap as she faced Jim. Tears streamed down her face. The weight of this new existence was taxing and harder than she imagined. Participating in life from the sidelines. Watching but not doing. Living but not living at all. “It was very full, Jim. The best life I could have ever wanted and then some.” Edna’s petite shoulders shook with sobs and Jim rose and sat beside her on the bed; he encircled her in his arms and pressed his face against her neck.

“I love you Edna Briggs, but this is not the existence you were meant to have. It is time for me to let you go,” he whispered. Jim breathed in as deeply as he could. Memorizing every dip and curve of her body as if he had not already done that over the last sixty-five years. The smell of her perfume. The smoothness of her skin. The sound of her breath as she wept. These were all important pieces of information, things he would store away and remember on days when he missed her. Every day. Jim would remember it every day. Jim and Edna wept together, just as they had the night she passed. They squeezed one another and eventually fell back on the bed. Jim felt sleep tugging at his eyelids, and he knew, deep in his gut, when he woke tomorrow Edna would be gone. “I promise, I’ll see you soon. I love you so much. You have been the most amazing wife a man could ever ask for.” Jim’s hands were in those bouncy curls, fingers wrapped around Edna’s skull as he touched their foreheads together. “I won’t last long without my other half, but I’ll make sure the grandbabies are skilled pie bakers before I go.” They laughed. The room was quiet except for their sniffling. “It’s okay to go, I love you.” Edna kissed her husband’s face, his forehead, and lips. Edna fell asleep. Finally. She had not realized just how tired her soul was until her eyes closed and she drifted off into the most peaceful slumber within her husband’s arms.

When Jim woke the next morning, he was alone, as expected. Despite the hole he felt in half of his heart, Jim smiled. Edna was finally at peace and that alone brought him more joy than anything else.

[ilovereadingandilovebreathing]

Febufluff(whump) Day 9: Sick Day (& Creators Choice)

A/N: I’m always a slut for the Terror Twins, a.k.a. Harley & Peter, being best friends (sorry, Ned.) A universe in which Harley bugged the absolute hell out of Tony until he let Harley live with him and go to Midtown. Definitely softened by Peter.

Summary: Harley gets sick. Tony & Pepper are away, so naturally, Peter has to come help. 

WARNINGS for food poisoning, talk and some descriptions of vomiting/gagging, etc. 

Peter is busily scribbling away at his latest AP Language assignment when his phone buzzes multiple times in quick succession, “Hardly Queener” lighting up his phone screen.

Peter

Peter help me

SAVE ME

FACETIME ME NOW

Hardly Queener would like to FaceTime...

Peter rolls his eyes and answers; Harley’s forehead fills the screen, a muffled groan filling Peter’s ears instantly.

Peter chuckles humorlessly. “What’s up?”

“I’m d y i n g.” Harley groans loudly and looks up just enough for his eyes to be visible.

“You’re dramatic.” 

“You’re homophobic.”

“You’re bisexual, Harley.”

“Shut up.” Harley buries his face in his covers.

“Sure, I’ll hang up-”

“NO.”

Peter sighs. “Why did you text bomb me and insist on FaceTiming?”

Harley barks out a few rough coughs. “Can you not HEAR the phlegmy evil that plagues my lungs?”

“So you’re sick. You weren’t sick at school today.”

“Not showing it, anyway.”

“Why didn’t you stay home if you felt bad?”

“Didn’t hit me until 6th period.”

“Sounds like a you problem.”

Harley groans again and lets his phone fall on the bed. “You’re no fun.”

“Yeah, I’m a real stickler.”

“Oh my god. Maybe it’d be better to be alone than to deal with your rancid cheese.”

“Oh yeah, Tony and Pepper are gone this weekend, huh?”

“Yeah.” Harley rolls onto his side and props the phone up against a pillow.

“But, like, you’re not alone at the Tower, right?”

“I mean, security is here, but hell if I’m getting any of them to go get me food.”

“Door Dash and Grub Hub exist.”

“Yeah, but they’re overpriced.”

“You live with a billionaire, Harley.”

“Mama raised a Frugal Hoosier.”

Peter sighs.

“So I’m guessing all of this is because you want me to come over?”

“Maybe.”

Peter looks at his phone. “I’m leaving for patrol soon. I’ll come over after?”

“Fine. Leave me to wither alone.” Harley grumbles into his comforter.

“You’re fine. It’ll pass soon. Time to go help the helpless. Adios!”

“Bye.”

Peter clicks off of the call and clicks open his Spider suit unit. He does feel a little guilty for leaving Harley all alone when he’s not feeling well, but he seems fine enough to Peter, if not a little glassy-eyed and flushed. He supposes he can make it up to his friend by bringing something by that night, and resolves to do so as he swings out his window and into the night.

-------

It’s 9:03PM when Peter latches onto the outside of the Tower, feeling a little guilty for leaving his patrol early but proud at how much he got done in a few hours.

Peter crawls up to Harley’s window and taps on the glass, frowning when a few moments pass without movement or a reply. “Harley?” Peter knocks again. “Hey, Karen? Can you patch me through to FRIDAY?”

“Sure. Connecting Peter Parker to Female Replacement Intelligent Digital Assistant Youth.”

“Hello, Peter.”

“Hey, FRI. Where’s Harley?”

“Just a moment. Harley Keener is in the west lavatory on the top floor. He seems to be in distress.”

“Does Tony know?”

“He insisted that I did not tell Boss, and the request does not violate known protocols.”

“That’s hard to believe.” Peter has crawled to Harley’s bathroom window by now and knocks lightly on the window pane. “Hey, Harls?”

There’s a muffled grunt and shuffling like socked feet on tile before the window slides open. “Don’t call me that. Too close to what I just did.”

Harley moves aside for Peter to climb through the window. The healthy teen looks his friend up and down. “Aw, man.”

“I know. I look incredible for a guy who just puked his guts out, right?”

“Not exactly.” Peter cringes at how pale Harley’s face is, sweat beading on his forehead and eyes red-rimmed and glassy. “How long you been at it?”

“On and off for the last 3 hours or so. It’s really just been dry heaving lately. Sucks ass.”

“I can imagine. Do you know if anyone else is sick?”

“Ned and MJ are fine. I’m thinking food poisoning, honestly.”

“For real?” Peter quirks a brow and lays a hand over Harley’s forehead; it’s sweaty but not warm. “Tony buys pretty high quality food.”

“I brought some leftover Panda Express from like...”

Peter swallows. “I don’t wanna know.”

“I don’t want to think about it, honestly.” Harley swallows thickly. 

“You good?”

“I dunno. It’s always a surpri-” Harley coughs and trips back to the toilet. 

Peter grimaces in sympathy before following carefully behind him; he comes up behind Harley. “I’m here. Whatever you need.” He sits behind Harley and places a hand on his back. 

Harley finishes dry heaving and leans heavily against the toilet as Peter lightly rubs his back. 

“You wanna get out of here?”

“Hasn’t been long enough yet.”

“I’m gonna go change out of this. Be right back.” Peter slips out of the bathroom and quickly heads toward the guest room reserved for him. “Hey, FRI?”

“Yes, Peter?”

“Can you order some stuff for me?”

“Sure.”

Peter pulls out a t-shirt and sweatpants, quickly slipping into the clothes. “Does Target deliver around here?”

“With the SmartPhone Application.”

“That works. Let security know?”

“Alerting Harold Hogan, as well as Gregory Stevens, presently at the security desk.”

“Thanks, FRI.”

“Of course, Peter. What would you like to order?”

Peter leaves his room and crosses to Harley’s.

“Saltines if we don’t have them.” Peter rummages around in Harley’s drawers for something more comfortable than his sweat-soaked jeans and hoodie while listing off the sick day (or night, now) necessities. “Schweppes Ginger Ale. Plain wheat bread, none of the ones with flakes or nuts or anything. Applesauce. Tums. PeptoBismol, tablets and liquid stuff. And a whole case of water bottles.”

“Got it.”

“Thanks, FRI. Let me know when it’ll be here.”

“Absolutely.”

Peter is back at the bathroom now and taps lightly on the door before entering. Any other day, he would have laughed at the now-stripped Harley, sitting in only a white t-shirt and his boxers, but his friend looks miserable as he sits propped against the bathtub, breathing hard with his eyes scrunched closed and a hand around his abdomen.

“Almost empty?” Peter mutters and taps Harley’s foot with his. 

Harley cracks an eye and scrunches up his nose. “Maybe. Can’t tell if my stomach actually hurts or if being doubled over like this is habit now.”

“You wanna change clothes?”

“Why not.” 

Peter turns around as Harley pushes himself up and struggles to change into fresh boxers. 

“I’m covered.”

Peter turns back around and clenches his jaw at how exhausted Harley looks. “Here.” Peter unfolds the new t-shirt and kneels, laying it beside him before reaching out to pull up the sides of Harley’s soaked shirt. Normally, Harley would protest and bat Peter’s hands away or make a joke about Peter seducing him, but now Harley is pliable as he slowly raises his arms, allowing Peter to gently dress him. Peter cradles his feet as he slides the sweats on but allows Harley to finish the job. 

“Feel better?”

“A little.” Harley mumbles. “Damn jeans were chafing me from all the damn sweat.”

“I’m sorry, but at least you’re comfy now.”  

“This sucks ass.” 

Peter sits next to Harley, and the blond drops his head onto Peter’s shoulder. Peter wraps an arm around Harley’s shoulder, and the boy slumps heavily against him at the confirmed invitation. Harley lets out a deep sigh.

They sit like that for a little while, until Peter’s butt and legs start to tingle, and he’s wondering if Harley has dozed off.

“Peter?”

“Yes, FRI?”

“Your delivery items have arrived.” 

“Your what?” Harley mutters, hardly audible through his heavy lips.

“Thanks, FRI.”

“Mr. Stevens is bringing the items up.”

“Have him leave them in the kitchen, please.”

“Got it.”

“What’d you order?”

“Everything to make you feel better. You feel up to finding out?”

Harley considers for a moment before lifting his head slowly. He stares across the room for a moment before closing his eyes and nodding. 

Peter rises and holds his hands out for Harley to take; he easily pulls the boy to his feet but moves slowly to be conscientious of Harley’s state. 

The boy stands unsteadily for a moment before grabbing on to the vanity counter. “Guess I don’t quite have my sea legs yet.” Harley jokes dryly. 

“Here.” Peter turns around and gestures. “I can carry you.” 

“Geez, Parker, I’m not totally out of commission. What if I get motion sick or something?”

“I’ll be careful. Better to get it over with.”

Harley huffs before wrapping his arms around Peter’s neck; he lifts one leg which Peter easily takes and hoists up the other, settling against Peter’s back with a grunt.

“Where to?”

“Bedroom is closest.”

It’s a little awkward logistically because of the inches Harley has on Peter, but Peter manages his weight easily. Peter walks steadily into the living room, Harley’s hot, stale breath on his neck making him a little queasy, and stops before carefully depositing the boy on the bed. 

“FRIDAY?” Harley croaks out pitifully. “Fan.”

“Of course.”

Harley groans in relief and curls up on top of his covers. 

“I’ll be right back.”

Harley grunts in reply as Peter heads out into the kitchen and quickly returns with his spoils and a small stack of bowls and a cup. 

“Feel like eating anything?”

“Maybe in a little bit.” Harley’s voice is a whisper as he pries open an eye. “What you have?”

“Crackers, of course, Ginger Ale. Applesauce. Pepto and Tums if you need them. And lots of water.”

“You really are a mother hen, Parker.”

“Only for you, Keener.”

“Don’t tell Ned.”

“He knows nothing can outdo our sacred bromance.”

“We’re cutting it pretty close here.”

“What sounds edible?”

“Water and Tums for now. I’ll let you know about the other stuff.”

Peter helps Harley sit up to chew on a few of the antacid tablets and sip some water before he collapses again. 

“Scoot.” Peter nudges Harley, and the latter raises a brow. “I’m not going back home. I already texted May; I’m staying with you until Tony and Pepper get back tomorrow.” 

“Oh.” Harley pulls himself over and Peter settles against the bed’s headboard with his ankles crossed. Harley’s head is against his thigh, and he carefully rests his hand there. Harley doesn’t protest, so Peter slowly moves his fingers through Harley’s hair, like May does for him when he doesn’t feel well. 

They sit in silence for a moment. “Did you tell him?”

“Not yet.”

Harley groans. “Don’t.”

“Why’d you tell FRIDAY not to?”

“Didn’t want him to worry. You know he’s a worrier. Worse than you.” Harley sighs and looks up between Peter and his stomach. Peter nods and Harley scoots up, resting his head on Peter’s stomach, the latter’s hand still running ministrations through his hair.

“Wanna watch anything?” Peter whispers.

“Mmmm nothing I actually have to watch.” Harley replies, eyes closed lightly for sleep instead of clenched in pain. Finally, progress.

“Hmm....Disney?”

“Whatever.”

“Finding Nemo?”

“Depressing, but sure. Sadie loves it, so I’ve seen it 12,000 times.” Harley yawns through the hyperbolic estimation, and Peter gives a breathy snort. 

“Perfect. We love an orphan story.”

“His dad’s alive.”

“I meant me.”

Harley lightly nudges Peter’s leg.

“FRIDAY? TV on...My movies...Finding Nemo.” 

They make soft banter throughout the beginning of the movie, Harley’s voice getting quieter as his breaths get heavier, and soon he is dead weight against Peter, his arm having snaked around Peter’s waist to hold him like a beloved stuffed animal. 

Peter looks down at Harley’s face, now snuggled into his abdomen, and can’t help the grin on his lips. Harley finally looks at peace, if not hilarious, and Peter can’t resist reaching down for his phone. He jumps when Tony Stark’s contact jumps out at him in a FaceTime request, and quickly gropes around for Harley’s AirPods before popping them in, answering the call, and swiping to his settings. 

“Hey-hold on-okay.” Peter settles back in again, one hand holding his phone and the other on Harley’s back, and whispers, “Hey, Mr. Stark.”

“Hey, Squirt.”

“You don’t seem surprised to find me here.”

“We have Find My Friends or whatever set up, remember, kid? Part of the phone upgrade deal.”

“That whole thing was your idea. I told you I didn’t need a new phone.”

“Besides the point. What’s got you all whispery in the Tower?”

“Harley’s asleep.”

“Really? It’s barely past 10.”

“He’s sick.”

“Sick how? How sick? Why didn’t I know?”

“Food poisoning doesn’t align with any of the alert protocols. It’s technically not biologically sick, and it’s not true poisoning.”

“Shocking. No wonder FRIDAY’s been so quiet. That little shit would find a loophole unintentionally.” 

Peter rolls his eyes.

“So, how is he?”

“Asleep. Hurled his guts out earlier.”

Tony cringes in sympathy. “Nasty stuff. How’d he get it?”

“Leftover Panda, probably.”

“Dammit, kid. I told him that junk had gone off.”

“Yeah, well, it is Harley.” Peter angles the camera down, and Tony’s eyes turn down at the sides as he studies the slumbering Harley.

“He holding anything down?”

“He’s only had water and Tums. We’ll find out in the morning.”

“If you say so. Let me know if you need anything, okay? Pep and I will be back ASAP tomorrow.”

“Take your time. We’re all good here.”

Tony smiles. “I know. He’s in good hands.” Tony looks past his phone. “Gotta go, Spider-Kid. See you tomorrow.”

“See you. Bye, Mr. Stark.”

Peter sets the phone on the nightstand and slowly reaches down to grab a throw Harley had brought from Rose Hill, a Granny Square pattern his mom had crocheted for him as a gift. A small piece of Tennessee in the middle of the big city. Harley makes a low noise in his throat in protest of the movement, but sighs and holds tighter onto Peter when they settle in again, his nose buried in the front of Peter’s shirt. 

“Lights, please, FRIDAY.” The lights dim to a very dim glow, and Peter sighs. “Night, Harls.” Peter whispers with one last ministration over the boy’s back. 

“Night...” Harley’s words carry along the air, light and barely there. “Love you, Pete.”  

Peter blinks. Harley’s a great friend, loyal, hardworking, and will punch anyone’s teeth in with little need for reason, but affection is low on the list of Harley Keener characteristics. He’s not sure he heard correctly, so he carefully replies, “Love you, too, Harls.”

A ghost of a smile tugs on Harley’s lips and vanishes before Peter can blink, and Peter melts into a grin. Sick Harley is whiny, needy Harley, but also a loving Harley that Peter could get used to.

Peter closes his eyes and starts to doze, his hand still one Harley’s back when the pair wakes in the morning, stiff and sleepy but satisfied at making it through the night.

Harley would chomp down the scrambled eggs Peter makes and poke at him for the weird looks he keeps giving Harley, throwing snowballed napkins when Peter refuses to tell him why. 

[charlotte-sloane-writes]

Part 2 - A Wicked Little Thing

Here’s Chapter 2 of my Zatanna/John Constantine fic. Get ready for some quality feels and worldbuilding. The story is after the cut, the tags are at the very bottom.

If you want to be added to the taglist, please reblog or comment.

The flesh on Anna’s hands had turned a bright angry red fifteen minutes ago; fifteen minutes before the end of her shift. Though the color had abated by the time she got to the cleaning cart lock-up, they still itched and burned from the overexposure to cleaning chemicals. Despite the smell of bleach and cheap latex gloves permeating every digit, Anna abstained from washing her hands in fear of rubbing off the last layer of skin she had left on her palms.

“Shit, and I thought we were busy in the summer.” Freddie leaned back, popping her spine. 

“You’re working a second shift too?” Anna smiled at her friend, unbuckling the utility belt from around her waist.

“Yeah.” Freddie scoffed, removing the little, fuzzy, red hat that had leaned crookedly off the side of her ginger crown. “The second it starts pourin’ and all the tourists get stranded, Buddy gets big ideas about a Michelin star for the Hotel California.”

“Talk about overflow.” Anna closed up her locker, spinning the dial on her combination lock for good measure.

The bellhop sat back on the wooden bench in the middle of the locker room, stretching her arms above her head. “When do you get out?”

“Oh, you haven’t heard? We can never leave.”

“Oh, very funny, Anna. It was also really funny the last thirty times I heard that joke.”

“What? If you’re gonna have a shitty job might as well have it at the Hotel California.”

“That should be the new tagline. Come to the Hotel California, if you’re gonna have a shitty vacation, you might as well have it set in a mediocre rock song.”

Anna threw her towel at Freddie’s head “That’s a great song.”

“I’m more of an Aerosmith kinda gal.” Freddie winked, the freckled skin around her eyes wrinkling with a shit-eating grin she gave her friend.

“Blasphemy. Absolute blasphemy.” Anna laughed, the ends of her black hair tickling the bottoms of her shoulder blades when she leaned her head back.

“You’re one to talk.” Freddie threw the offending towel back towards Anna’s face. The cleaning maid caught it and jolted it back towards her chest, dragging Freddie off of the bench in a series of uncontrollable giggles. 

The two collapsed in a heap on the linoleum floor, panting between the ghosts of their laughter. “Fuck, I’m gonna be late. George’ll kill me.”

Anna leaned up “If he kills you, who’s gonna bail him out from laundry duty?”

“Fair enough.” Freddie heaved herself up, getting a sturdy landing on her feet and tugging Anna back up with her. “You off on lunch?” Freddie’s breath tickled Anna’s cheek and left a ghostly disturbance against her eyelashes. This was too close. 

“Yeah, about to. Why?”

“I’ll tell George you’re there when I see him. He’ll be glad to have a cards partner.”

“And to think he was getting so good at solitaire.” Anna smiled crookedly and nodded “Okay, you tell that brother of yours I’ll be waiting to serve his ass up on a round of Go Fish.”

“Make him regret it. I need something to feel like the superior twin.” Freddie winked, getting to her locker and changing into her brother’s spare laundry uniform. Tightening the white pants around her hips, Freddie spread her arms, shaking her head and making her short hair messier, somehow wilder “How do I look?”

Anna was leaned back against the locker, a bite of her apple making the rounds to her molars “Sexy in a ‘1950s sanitorium worker’ kind of way.”

Freddie laughed freely, hands gripping her shuttering belly “What’s your damage, Arataz?” 

Anna swallowed the chunk of fruit in her mouth, wiping her chapped lips roughly with the back of her hand “You haven’t even scratched the surface, honeybuns.”

Freddie scoffed, rolled her eyes, and nudged her friend in the ribs playfully “See you tonight for a nightcap?”

“You got the…?” Anna made a signal with her hand– two fingers to her lips and outward.

“Only if the back patio is dry by then. I don’t want to have to share with Buddy again.”

“Fair. See you then.”

“Yeah.” Freddie waved over her shoulder and walked out to bail her twin brother out.

Anna wouldn’t see such a familiar face until thirty minutes later, lunching on a cheese and bologna sandwich and nibbles of saltines she’d kept lying around her locker in case she ever wanted to treat herself. 

“You’re a sorry sight.” George announced his presence, changed into his sister’s bellhop uniform. The first few times they’d done the switcheroo around her, Anna got whiplash. 

“Ever so charming.” She shrugged out the earbud and laid the pair off to the side, looking up at the man settling into the chair across from her.

“Freddie tells me you’re gonna kick my ass at Go Fish?”

“Yeah, so long as your cards aren’t rigged.” 

“Me? Cheating at cards? When there’s no money to be won? I’m wounded.” George leaned over and stole a cracker from its sleeve.

“What’s for lunch?” Anna swiped back the cracker, leaving more crumbs on the table between them than in either of their hands.

“Some fried rice and chopped SPAM.” George shrugged and wiped off the debris of the saltine battle.

“Seriously?”

“Some of us need variance, Arataz.” George nudged his chin towards the cleaning lady’s meal. “We can’t all survive on bologna sandwiches every day.”

______________________

John Constantine is laying across his bed, unmade and wrinkled like his dress shirt. A loose cigarette hangs from his bottom lip and his heavy eyelids drift closed to the heavy smoke drifting through the industrially recycled air of the Waverider. A final moment of peace, a stillness in his heart, permits his mind to now wander with eyes shut tight. He wonders on passed loves and good times, beers with Chas and drinks with King Arthur’s proginey, shots with Dez and wine with Bruce. Come to think of it, his bonding moments seem to circle around alcohol a bit too frequently. When was the last time he had a deep conversation without booze to lubricate his thoughts to slip past that hard wall he’s built? “Zatanna, must’ve been with Zatanna” He thought aloud, remembering her Painted Lady-esque mansion on an off-shoot road in San Francisco. The silk sheets, the aroma of floral soy candles, the Korean face masks:

“How do you know how to use these things?” John flicked the plastic pack with Korean print all over it. No amount of squinting or divining was making the words any more English.

She laughed, flicking her dark hair behind her shoulder and leaning down onto the mattress behind him. “There...I think.” Her manicured finger pointed down at the one discernable thing on the silver pack, the number 15 “I think that means you leave it on for 15 minutes.”

“Fuck it, sure.” He shrugged and laughed, leaning back and letting his head rest on her thigh “Will you open it for me?”

“Sure. You sure you want this one?” She plucked it from his hands and looked at the picture on it “Pearl? I have others if you want.”

He turned on to his side, one finger tracing an ancient Nordic rune on her knee “Which one are you doing?”

“The snake one.” Zatanna leaned onto one hand, the mattress dipping with her weight.

“Snake oil? Isn’t that like...clearly not real?” John mumbled

“Hm?” Zatanna laughed, her fingertips pushing back his hair “What are you talking about, John?”

“Nothing, love.” He sighed “Just talking for the sake of hearing m’self.”

“You do that often?” She teased him, leaning forward to lay on her side across from him.

“I think so. Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Why do I like to hear myself talk so much?”

“Yeah.” 

John leaned on to his back and sighed, letting his back ache in relief. He scratched over his belly button absent-mindedly “Not sure. Maybe it’s to figure out whether I know what I’m talking about.”

The stage magician crawled over to him, sitting up on his chest and pulling his hands away from himself “You don’t think you know what you’re talking about?”

“I don’t know. Who knows? Maybe it’s an act...all of it. But if I sound like I know what I mean, maybe what I’m saying and what I’m doing is right, true, correct. Just got to convince myself as much as those around me.”

Zatanna nodded “I think I know what you mean.” She opened the pearl essence face mask, pressing the cold and slimy sheet onto his face. John jumped at it, surprised at the feeling. “I sometimes wonder where I’d be if I couldn’t just make shit happen with a few backwards phrases.”

“Still rich.” John laughed, watching with one eye open as Zatanna dismounted from his chest and laid down next to him, placing her own sheet mask on her face.

“I don’t know. My father’s money didn’t stretch that far, and I’d be lying if I said my stage magic would be just as good without my real magic. And my name does a lot of the legwork for me…”

“I think you’re brilliant.” John admitted

“Oh, well thank you, all my problems are solved now.” Zatanna rolled her eyes

John laughed and nudged her with his elbow “You wanker.” He scoffed.

“I know, I know, I shouldn’t question the very rarest of Constantine compliments. Thank you, honeybuns.” She kissed the underside of his chin and leaned back to play with the ends of her hair.

“Yeah, yeah, alright.” John rolled his eyes and pretended he wasn’t feeling the closest to home he’d ever felt in his life.

That Zatanna Zatara didn’t exist anymore. All that’s left of her now is a scorned lover, just like the rest of them, as far as John was concerned. She did just fine without him, and he didn’t need her. 

An alarm blared, breaking his reverie. John groaned as he leaned up and ashed his cigarette. “Calling all Legends to the Bridge. Calling all Legends to the Bridge.” Sara Lance’s voice echoed through the time travelling ship. “That means you too, John.”

The mage rolled his eyes and stood, stretching out his spine, twisting his arms around to his hips. He slipped his trenchcoat on, feeling the small fizzle of arcane energy as his arms fit through the conduit. “Alright, Johnny. Time to wake up.” He murmured to himself, rolling his shoulders. He pushed the button and the doors to his room slid open.

Taglist: @golden-rosezz​ @smol-flower-kiddo​ @beepbeepyabitch @angel-hunter-winchester​ @groovinomicon​ @zatara-zatannas​ @fandomneeds​ @interstellarflare​ @eliotsbambimargo​ @aliypop​ @themanthemyth-thelegend​ @superrezzy00​ @fanficy-imagines​ @toomanystoriestoolittletime @starsscribble​ @addicted-to-dc​ @arkhamsdarkestknight​ @narnian-neverlander​ @thefastarrow​ @tgwltw​ @theliveshipparagon​ @deirdre-queen​ @writing-doesnt-discriminate @a-really-bi-girl​ @interstellarflare​ @soarocks​ @madameredblog​

[thedragonsden]

Broken Glass - Chapter 5

     As the weeks towards the wedding started to fly, Emilia and Maria realized how much planning went into everything and the stress that came with it. Their days started off rather slow because Maria was starting to experience morning sickness, Emilia was spending more and more time at her grandmother’s just to be there to help with everything going on.       “Ugh, oh god!” Maria moaned, “When will it stop?”, her face down in the toilet.      “I’m assuming in about another month or so, though I have little experience with birth.” Even though her tone was serious, Maria stifled a laugh.       “What?”       “You just make me laugh Eve, that’s all.” Emilia brought her a warm cloth and helped her sit down, “Thanks, I’m really glad you decided to stay.”      “At least until the big day, you shouldn’t have to worry about all of this and Nan on your own.” Emilia smiled, slowly rubbing her back.      “Well, it’s appreciated either way. Frank has been surprisingly helpful as well, it’s just a lot of work to do before he leaves again.”      Emilia nodded.       “Which reminds me,” Maria sat up and turned to her, “I know it’s one thing after another, but after the wedding I could really use your help to plan a going away party for Frank and Billy.”      Emilia groaned, “Planning your wedding is one thing, I’m happy to do that, but why a going away party?”      Maria gave a shy smile, “Well, when Frank and Billy leave, they’re usually gone for months at a time. Frank told me this morning that they had received orders on their next mission, so they’ll be gone for about 8 months. It’s just to wish them well, give them a taste of home before they leave again.”      Emilia crinkled her nose, regret became her as she went to fetch Maria a warm cloth, she’d almost forgotten what it was like when Frank left. Maria would come over more than usual whenever he was away, the two of them trying to come up with ways to pass the time. Just being with someone other than Nan was helpful, but some days were still harder than others, and this time, she’d be pregnant. “I’m sorry Maria, that was inconsiderate of me. I don’t know why I said that. I’m happy to help you plan a going away party.”      Maria embraced her from the side, before laying her head in Emilia’s lap. As she started to stroke her hair, Maria looked up at her, “That’s okay Eve. I know spending time with Bill is your favourite pastime, but he is part of our family.”      Emilia shuddered at the mention of Billy Russo. They were right about him being handsome, but as she started to see him more often with all the planning left to be done, he was still just a prick with a nice face. Every so often she would overhear Frank and Billy talking about the latest bar escapade or debating who his date would be to the wedding. She didn’t know why it had bothered her so much, perhaps it just seemed disrespectful? She wasn’t a fan of ‘locker room chatter’. When he wasn’t rambling about how the last one didn’t please him, he was trying to convince Emilia to buy him a drink. That was her least favourite of it all.       “I know, we’re all he’s got…well, you and Frankie, I’m not part of that.” She said slyly.       “Once I become Mrs. Frank Castle, you will be.”       Emilia pretended to gag, “Ugh, don’t remind me.”      They both laughed, then there was a knock at the door. “Come in.”      Frank was standing at the door with seltzer water, saltine crackers, and a bouquet of flowers.      “How are you feeling this morning?” He smiled nervously.        “Better knowing you’re nearby.” Emilia helped Maria to stand, nodded to Frank and then slipped out of the room.       She went downstairs to make coffee, only to find that some was already being brewed. Just when she was about to run up and thank Frank, she heard a shuffling in the living room.       “Frankie said you’d need it. You’re welcome,” that familiar taunting lingered in her mind.       “Thank you,” She called through gritted teeth, though she wanted to be grateful, his tone set her on edge.       “You definitely sound like you need some.” Billy called back.       Emilia didn’t answer, she could hear Frank and Maria coming downstairs. Billy seemed to have notice as well because by the time they’d reached the bottom, they were all in the kitchen.       “So, after some coffee, how about we go down to the baker’s and sample those cakes?” Frank smiled.       “I forgot it was cake day!” Billy said excitedly.       “I just told you that in the car.” Frank grumbled.       Maria and Emilia shared glances and rolled their eyes, “I could definitely go for some cake! This one keeps restricting my diet.”      “You can have all you want at your wedding, but until then, my little niece or nephew needs to eat good food.” Emilia gushed, before playfully rubbing Maria’s belly, “Too much unhealthy food leads to being like that one.” She pointed behind her at Billy, whose mouth dropped open in offense, the bagel he was eating dropping to the floor.       “Well I never,” he began in rebuttal, but Frank cut him off.       “You know she’s right Bill, you’re starting to put on some weight.”       Billy folded his arms in protest as they laughed at him. Frank slapped his back causing him to release his arms.       “Could still best you in a fight Frankie,” he hissed.             “Oh, I bet you could. Ready to go?” He dismissed Bill and turned to Maria, already grabbing her purse.       “I’ve been looking forward to cake day for weeks. Let’s go!” Maria insisted, starting to nudge Frank and Emilia out of the door.       Once they arrived at the bakers Maria’s mouth started to water, her eyes enlarging at the sight of the various cakes. She and Billy seemed to have the same thought because Emilia had run into him.       “Don’t tell me that you’ve forgotten how to walk.” She teased, nudging past him.       “Does the aroma not bother you? How will we decide? There’s so many.” He licked his lips.       Emilia scoffed, “Put it away junior. Besides, we’re only here to offer support, ultimately, Maria and Frank have final say.”      Billy shot Emilia a glance, “Remind me not to invite you to my cake tasting.”      “Don’t worry Bill. I’ll be long gone before you settle down.” She passed him and confirmed their reservation with the woman at the front desk. Then went to check in with Frank and Maria, who’d gotten her a chair to sit at.       “Can I get you anything?” Frank consoled her with a hand resting gently on her thigh.       “Maybe a glass of water, I feel a bit – queasy.” Maria covered her mouth.       “Frank will you see if they’ve got any seltzer? I’ll take her to the lady’s room.” Emilia helped her to stand again. Leading her away from the main room.       Billy came around the corner and frowned as they passed, “Are we leaving already?”      “Watch our bags, Frank will be back in a moment.” Emilia called.       “Yes mum.” He said, sticking out his tongue.       Emilia didn’t have time to respond as Maria had knelt beside the toilet and began to cough. Emilia locked the door and went to hold Maria’s hair, gently massaging her back. When nothing happened, Maria sat up, tears in her eyes.          “Maria? Are you alright?”       “Did you see the frill on the tiered cake in the window? It was p-periwinkle.” She began to sob.      “Come again?” Emilia knelt beside her.      “The c-cake in the window, it was p-periwinkle.” Maria said louder, her cries filling the room.       “Is that what this is about? The colour of the cake in the window?”      Maria nodded, burying her head in her hands.       Emilia laughed, “Do you want your cake to have a hint of periwinkle, Maria?”      Maria nodded furiously, not looking up at her.       Emilia laughed even harder, “Periwinkle it is.”      Maria looked up and hugged her leg. Emilia gave a few soft rubs to her back before lifting her chin.       “Best wash up now, Frank is probably worried. Bill seemed quite upset that he wasn’t going to get any cake. That is, if you still want some.”      Maria smiled, “Can we try-”      “The periwinkle? I’m not sure what blue tastes like, but yes. I’ll tell her to add it to the list.” Playfully rolling her eyes, Emilia helped her to stand. After they cleaned up and went back to the table, they saw Billy ogling the cakes in front of them.       Frank stood as soon as he caught sight of Maria, “Everything okay?”      They both nodded.      “Could we get a sample of the periwinkle, tiered, in the window?” Emilia asked when she waved down their guide.       After several cake filled hours, Billy was face down in the last bite he’d taken and Frank and Maria we’re explaining the final design that they wanted.       “And you said a hint of the periwinkle?” The planner asked, taking notes.      Maria clapped her hands together with glee, “Oh please!”      “Alright then, I think that’s everything. Will one of you be coming to pick it up the day of?”     “Yes, Bill here will. Hey! Bill,” Frank had slapped him on the back, causing him to bolt upright. 

     “W-what?” He murmured, the plate still stuck to his face.       Frank sighed, “You’re in charge of getting the cake Saturday.”      “Oh, yeah! Whatever you need man.” He said groggily.       Maria and Emilia burst into laughter.       “Something on my face?”       “Well, er, yeah actually.” Emilia said between laughs.       Waking up enough to feel the coldness of the icing and plate on his face, Billy gasped. Removing the plate, he rushed off to the bathroom.       “Poor chap. He’s never been ugly before has he?” Emilia teased.       “Nope. They call him Billy the beaut for a reason.” Frank snickered.       “Only you call him that Frankie.” Maria said, kissing his cheek.       He shrugged, “Either way, the cake definitely isn’t his look.       “I dunno,” Emilia chimed in, “I think the cake makes him prettier.”      Trying to control their laughs before he came back, Frank and the planner settled the details and the samples were taken. Some time had passed before Billy had rejoined them, when he did, his face was clean, and his hair slicked back. Certainly, now he looked more awake.       “Enjoy your nap bill?” Frank smirked.       Displeased, but trying to regain his ego Bill retorted, “Yes, it was quite sweet. You were in my dreams again Eve.”      Emilia made a gagging noise, “The only sweet thing I enjoyed about your dreams Russo, was the sheer displeasure at your face covered in icing.”       Billy stuck his tongue out at her, “Alright you two, lets go.” Maria said stepping between them.       “Gladly, I could go for a salad.” Emilia said, slipping out of the door. 

[noona-clock]

Nothing’s Wrong

Genre: Teacher!AU

Pairing: Brian (Day6) x You

By Admin B

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, Oh, yeah, and I love you, Nothing’s Wrong

Your eyes flitted to the door as you heard the jingle of keys and the clicks of someone unlocking it. It could only be one of two people, and based on the time of day (currently 3:15pm), it was probably --

Sammy stopped short when he saw you, his brow furrowing.

“What are you doing home?”

It was a Thursday, so you should have been at work for another hour and 45 minutes, at least. Not camped out on the couch watching a Disney movie.

“I’m not feeling too great, so I had to leave early,” you explained as you reached for a cracker from your plate on the coffee table. Your stomach had been bothering you since yesterday, so you’d been downing saltines and ginger ale and pretty much nothing else for almost 24 hours.

Hopefully, it hadn’t been something you’d eaten because that meant Brian and Sammy would probably fall captive to the bug, too.

But, I don’t know... this stomachache felt a little different than food poisoning. You weren’t sure what it could be, though.

Sammy slid his backpack off his shoulders and let it fall into an armchair in the living room. A frown had appeared on his lips, and you were about to comment on how sweet it was that he was worried about you.

“So... you can’t come to curriculum night?” he asked.

Your eyebrows shot up your forehead, your jaw dropping open as you let out a gasp.

“Oh, no!” you lamented. “Sammy, I forgot, I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head, a tiny smile now tugging at his lips. “It’s okay,” he assured you with a wave of his hand. “I’ll just ask Uncle Brian.”

As Sammy began to rummage around in his backpack for his homework, your expression slowly morphed into one which clearly said ‘oh my god did he just say he would ask Brian to go to a school-event?’. Your forehead wrinkled, your lower lip jutted out into a slight pout, and tears just slightly filled your eyes.

Because, up until now, Sammy had always asked you to go to any sort of parent-involvement thing at school. You had never made a big deal about it or asked him to ask Brian instead because it was probably still awkward for him. His friends would be asking their actual moms and dads while he couldn’t.

You, at least, were actually related to him. You were his aunt by blood; Brian was his uncle by marriage.

You sniffed, feeling a tear spilling out onto your cheek.

Sammy quickly looked up, quirking one eyebrow at you. “...Aunt Y/N, are you okay?”

“Yes,” you assured him quickly, pressing your knuckle to your eye. “I’m fine, sorry.”

Really, though, why were you crying? I mean, you were an emotional person (you’d cried buckets on your wedding day), but... crying because Sammy was going to ask Brian to go with him to curriculum night?

That was a little overboard.

“Okay...” Sammy replied uncertainly. But he continued on getting out what he needed for his homework and headed across the hall to the office.

When you had been looking for a house to move into right before you and Brian got married, one thing you wanted was a separate room for Sammy and Brian to get their school work done. You just felt that Sammy needed a quiet space to do his homework, and Brian needed a quiet space to grade papers. 

Both of them had deemed it unnecessary, but within a week of moving in, they were both using it almost daily. It had taken everything in you not to gloat.

When Brian arrived home about an hour later, his reaction to seeing you mirrored Sammy’s almost exactly: His brow furrowed with concern, and he dropped his briefcase into the armchair by the living room doorway.

“What are you doing home so early?” he asked, heading over to the couch.

You’d laid down about half an hour ago, the churning in your stomach having increased. Now even saltines were unappetizing.

Brian perched on the edge of the couch, reaching out and smoothing your hair back from your forehead. “Still feeling bad?”

You nodded, letting out a pathetic sounding hum.

“I”m sorry,” Brian frowned before bending over and placing a kiss on your temple. “You don’t have a fever. It’s just your stomach?”

“Yeah,” you croaked. “I still haven’t thrown up or anything, though, so I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“Do you want anything? Ginger ale? Gatorade?”

“Mm, no, thank you,” you shook your head and turned to look up at him. “Maybe just a kiss?”

A tiny smile tugged at Brian’s lips, and he bent down again to fulfill your request.

“I missed you,” he whispered against your lips. And then he moved to place kisses all over your face, kissing your cheek and nose and chin and forehead. “I missed you so much.”

A giggle escaped your lips, but before you could say or do anything, you heard the office door opening across the hall.

Brian sat back up, his gaze shifting and his lips forming into a smile. “Hey, Sammy,” he greeted. And even though he was looking at Sammy, he still moved one hand to your back, rubbing it comfortingly.

“Hey,” Sammy replied, leaning against the living room doorway. “I have curriculum night tonight. Can you come?”

“Oh, yeah,” Brian answered with raised eyebrows. “Yeah, sure. What time?”

“It starts at 6.”

“Cool, cool. You want to get something for dinner before?”

“McDonald’s?”

Brian let out a soft chuckle and nodded. “We can get McDonald’s if you want.”

“If you’re going to talk about food,” you interrupted with a slight whine. “Please do it somewhere else.”

“Sorry, baby,” Brian chuckled guiltily, giving you one last forehead kiss before pushing himself off the couch and heading over toward Sammy.

“Did you finish all your homework?” you heard him ask as they walked into the office.

“Not yet,” Sammy replied. “I’m stuck on this paper about The Great Gatsby...?”

“You’re speaking my language, my man.”

You heard the click of the door closing, and you felt your heart positively glowing.

But there was also a whole new slew of thoughts churning around in your mind...

Brian and Sammy were gone for about three hours, and when they arrived home just before 9... Well, you’d had quite the evening.

You were already in bed because your stomach hadn’t let up (though you now knew why), and there had been no one at home to judge you for changing into your pajamas at 8:30 so, why not?!

“Hey, how’d it go?” you called out when you heard two pairs of footsteps heading up the stairs.

“Good, good,” Brian answered. “I’ll give you the details.”

“Night, Aunt Y/N,” Sammy said as he passed your doorway to go to his own room. “Feel better.”

“Thanks, sweetie! I love you, good night!” You craned your neck to see if he was coming back to respond, but you heard his bedroom door close.

As soon as Brian stepped foot in your shared bedroom, you scooted to sit up, trying your best to hide a smile.

“Hey, I have something to tell you,” you said, watching as he headed to the bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress.

“Me too,” he replied with a smile of his own. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m all right,” you shrugged.

Brian reached out to feel your forehead again, moving his hand to cradle your cheek when he was satisfied that you still didn’t have a fever.

“So, I overheard Sammy talking to some of his friends,” he said quietly, his eyes bright and sparkling.

“You did? And you didn’t butt in and try to be a cool kid like them?” you teased.

“Not this time,” he retorted, “One of the guys said ‘Your dad seems really cool.’“

“Ooh,” you replied, obviously very impressed.

“And Sammy said, ‘Yeah, he is.’“

Your brow furrowed, and you tilted your head curiously. “He... I mean, he didn’t --”

“He did. He said ‘He’s really my uncle, but yeah. He’s cool.’“

“But he didn’t say that right away?” you asked with tears pooling in your eyes.

Brian nodded. The very small smile on his lips was a total cover-up; you could tell he was actually extremely excited, and you didn’t feel like an idiot for tearing up.

You sniffed, leaning forward and taking Brian’s face in your hands. You planted a nice, long kiss on his lips, though you began to smile too goofily to actually kiss him properly.

“What did you have to tell me?” Brian asked softly when you pulled away. He reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes searching your face.

“Well,” you sighed. Your heart began to speed up, and a few butterflies formed in your stomach. “I figured out why I haven’t been feeling well.”

“Oh, yeah? Did you eat something?”

You shook your head.

“What is it?” Brian asked curiously.

You opened your mouth to tell him straight out, but you quickly decided to have a little more fun with it.

“It has to do with what Sammy said.”

“...That I’m cool?”

“That you’re a cool... what?”

“A cool uncle.”

You shook your head again. “What his friend said.”

“That... I’m... a cool dad?” he asked, utterly confused.

You pressed your lips together to keep yourself from smiling like an idiot, but you were practically vibrating with excitement.

You nodded.

“A cool dad. What are you --”

But then understanding lit up Brian’s face.

“Wait,” he stammered, scooting closer to you. “A cool dad? Like -- you mean -- I’m going to be -- you’re --”

“You’re already Sammy’s cool dad, but you’re going to be another kid’s cool dad, too,” you beamed, even more tears forming in your eyes now.

“You’re sure?”

You nodded. “I went out and got a pregnancy test while you were gone. I could tell that something was off, and when you called me ‘baby’ earlier, I thought -- and it was positive.”

Brian burst out in an excited laugh, immediately reaching for you and pulling you close to him.

You heard a door opening suddenly, followed by hurried footsteps.

“What is it?” Sammy asked when he appeared in your doorway. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh,” you sniffed, unable to wipe the smile from your lips. “No, nothing’s wrong. I just --”

Oh, geez. You hadn’t quite thought about how you would tell Sammy.

Brian moved to press his lips to your cheek, apparently too excited to hold it in.

“Sorry, Sammy,” you giggled, trying to lean away from your husband’s affection. “I just -- I’m... you’re going to have a little cousin.”

Sammy’s eyebrows shot halfway up his forehead, and his mouth formed a small ‘Oh’ of surprise.

“Get over here, Sammy boy,” Brian called out, turning around and waving him over.

“Brian, don’t embarrass --”

But Sammy was shuffling into your room.

And he actually leaned over and hugged the two of you.

Which, of course, made you cry even more.

“So... I’m going to have a little brother or sister?” he asked a bit shyly.

You would have to blame the number of tears spilling onto your cheeks on the pregnancy hormones. Because hearing Sammy say your baby would be his sibling instead of his cousin...

“Yeah,” Brian answered, looking at Sammy with nothing less than complete pride and adoration. “You are.”

Sammy’s shy smile turned into a full-blown one, and you were fairly sure your heart melted.

A memory suddenly flashed through your mind: the first day you met Brian. The parent-teacher conference where you found out Sammy was taking out his emotional frustrations at school.

In the car on the way home, Sammy had told you that you weren’t his real mom. You’d reminded him that you weren’t his fake mom, either; you were just his aunt.

But now, a mere three or so years later...

He didn’t call you ‘mom,’ but that’s what you were.

You were his mom now. He was your son. Brian was his dad.

And with a new little one on the way, you were pretty sure your heart was going to stop working because it was too full.

You had absolutely no idea how you’d gotten to be so lucky. You just knew that your year of struggling, your year of experiencing the lowest of lows... was worth it. Because look at how your life had turned out.

You had Sammy. You had Brian. You had a future child. You had a job you loved. You had a house with two stories and a garage and a really nice kitchen and a backyard and probably a dog soon because Sammy has been wanting one for months now. 

It just goes to show you that hard work really does pay off.

[timelock97]

Time Never Stops

Chapter Seven: Just a Bug

Word Count: 2075

Prologue   Ch 1   Ch 2   Ch 3   Ch 4   Ch 5   Ch 6

Warning: Mentions of getting sick, slight angst (not really)

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

"Alrighty," I rub my hands together as I sit down in front of my computer, "Are we recording Golf with Friends first or going over what we are doing for the PAX panel?"

"Record first," Arya states as Marz plops down beside her with two mugs in hand, "We then can practice our little spiel after the fact."

"Sounds like a plan. We ready for intros?" Kyle asks, stretching his arms over his head.

"Yeah, lets get-" my stomach lurches, causing me to pause and place a hand over my stomach.

"You okay there, TL?" Marz asks.

I shake my head before quickly standing from my seat, hand over my mouth, and sprint for the bathroom, the voices for my friends yelling from Skype behind me. I collapse to my knees and vomit into the toilet, groaning after finally emptying my stomach of what I had eaten for breakfast. I gasp for air, leaning an arm on the seat while laying my head on top to catch my breath and let the lightheadedness pass before flushing the toilet. I stand slowly and move to the sink to rinse out my mouth, then brush my teeth. I take a chance to look at my tear stained cheeks and pale face. I let out an annoyed breath before slowly making my way back down the hallway to the kitchen. I pop the fridge open to grab a bottle of ginger ale from the door shelf and grabbing a pack of saltine crackers from off the counter before walking back to the recording room.

"What the hell was that about?" Marz yells as I plop down in my chair, setting the bottle off screen while I reset my mics, chewing on the crackers.

"I haven't been feeling well the past few days, I'm fine, just a bug." I state quickly, running my hands through my hair. "Am I good to start the intro?"

"Yeah," Jac says with a raised eyebrow, Kyle cracks his knuckles next to him, "start us out, TL, before you get sick again."

I flip him off before clapping my hands together, "What's up guys, you're on with TimeLock,-"

"JacKylegameplays," the boys shout

"Welcome," Arya murmurs directly into the mic

"to Oblivion," Marz rasps

"And you're on," I state

"With GameSquad."

~

"Thanks so much for watching," Arya calls smiling at the camera after a two hour recording session.

"We will see you all, in the next one!" Jac and Kyle call out.

"Don't forget to check out our personal channels if you miss us." Marz states, pouting out her lower lip.

"And make sure to give that like button a little bit of love." I state, smiling at the camera.

"Until next time, this is GameSquad, signing off." We state together before stopping our recordings and giving everyone a thumbs up to show that we are all stopped.

"Okay," Arya groans while Marz moves from her seat to grab her phone from off the charger, "who is editing this bad boy?"

"It's the boys turn to edit the video. I don't know who is doing it, but the we have edited the last 3 weeks." Marz states before sitting back down in her chair.

"I have to pee, I'm not doing the editing, boys." I state, bouncing in my seat.

"Send over your recordings and I'll edit them," Kyle says, running a hand through his freshly dyed midnight blue hair while Jac pushes his chair away from the desk and rolls off screen. The girls and I upload our recordings and get them ready to send while we chit chat back and forth.

"I think this is the first time we have actually recorded since you've been back, TL." Jac yells off screen when I return from the bathroom.

"Yeah, I mean we pre-recorded videos for about a month so we wouldn't have to worry about it while I was gone then when Marz and Arya went on that trip with their family." I yawn, uncapping my pop to take a swig.

"And you haven't told us about your trip with Spiderling, TL." Kyle says, wiggling his eyebrows at me, making me laugh.

It had been five weeks since Tom and I departed from Oregon and went our separate ways since he had to get ready to go to premieres and interviews for late June.

"Sorry I couldn't travel back home with you, love." Tom murmured against my lips while we stood at his gate.

"Not like you could have changed it, babe." I whisper.

Tom cards his hand through my hair before cupping my face. "I love you, (Y/N), so much."

"I love you too, Tom, and just think. In a month and a half I'll be out in L.A. to join you for your premiere for the newest Avengers movie."

"I get to show you off as my girlfriend, and I cannot wait," he whispers, leaning his forehead against mine before pressing his lips into mine again, smiling into the kiss.

I pull away, looking into his brown eyes that in his swim with nothing but love. "You're going to miss your flight if you aren't off." I whisper, only to be cut off again by his lips.

He takes his time, before moving from my lips to my cheeks, my jaw, then my forehead before sighing. "I love you, darling. Call when you get home?" He states, backing up until all he is holding is my hands.

"Only if you call when you do." I whisper, lifting his hand to my lips, "I love you too. Now," I squeeze his hands before spinning him toward his gate, "Go before you miss your flight."

He laughs before spinning back around and kissing my lips. "See you in seven weeks."

"Seven weeks." I repeat before he finally walks to the door, but not before he gives me another wave, and walking inside.

"Everything was super fun, we visited so many places: the Japanese gardens, Mt. Tabor, art museums, the zoo, and more. And as you all know we figured out that we admitted that we loved each other," I muse.

"The ship finally sailed!" Marz yells, making us all laugh.

"Well, we are very glad that you are happy, TL, and that you had a great time." Kyle says, smiling at me.

"I do have a question, though." Arya says, looking intently at me. "How long have you been sick, (Y/N/N)?" She asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Uh, a few days." I state, leaning into my headrest, "Why?"

"Just curious, it seems odd that you are a bit sick five weeks after your trip with Tom." Arya states, leaning into Marz's side.

"And what exactly are you getting at?" I accuse, white, hot anger running through me.

"I think Ari is assuming that you and Tom did a little more than just kissing on your trip." Kyle wiggles his eyebrows, making Jac laugh.

"I'm not pregnant," I state, shaking my head, the group gasping as I roll my eyes. "It's just a bug, probably got it from flying home."

"I know, I mean, it is you. You don't have to get pissed about it" Marz laughs. "Damn, dormant virus," she giggles. I give here an apologetic look before shaking my head and laughing along with her.

Once the subject jumps away from my illness I pull my phone out of my desk drawer while we get ready to perform our little script for PAX. The lock screen revealing a picture of Tom after one of our days 'spent in bed.' I open my contacts and pull up my recent messages, clicking into Izzy's.

-

(Y/N/N)

Are you at the store?

At work?

Izzy

I am

Need something?

(Y/N/N)

I need you to pick something up for me

And you CANNOT freak out

Izzy

Okaaaaaaay

Whatcha need?

(Y/N/N)

Um...

Pregnancy test...?

Izzy

You have explaining to do

But will grab it for you.

I'll check it out so no one asks either.

(Y/N/N)

You're the best

And I'll explain when you get here

Chinese?

Izzy

Yum 😍

See you at 6

-

"TL?" My head shoots up from where I am looking down at my phone to the rest of GameSquad. "You alright?" Kyle asks.

"Yeah. Uh, want me to get started?" I ask, watching as everyone nods. "Alright everybody," I clap my hands together, leaning toward the screen, "storytime."

~

I wave goodbye to the rest of GameSquad before turning off the computer for the night. I run my hands through my hair before I stand and walk out into the hallway and into the kitchen. I glance at the clock, 5:15 PM.

"Time to call for food." I mutter as I grab my phone out of Tom's blue hoodie and dial my favorite Chinese place. Once the order is placed I spend the next twenty minutes moving around the apartment until I find myself back into the kitchen. I play with my lip as I lean against the counter, grabbing a water bottle in my hand and tossing it in the air, flipping it. I jump when there is a knock on the door and I quickly move to answer it. I yank it open and cause the man behind it to jump. "I'm sorry, a bit on edge, how much do I owe you?" I ask, pulling my wallet out of the front pocket.

"Fifteen sixty." The man states, handing me the bag for my food.

I pass him $22 and mutter a quick, "Keep the change." I shut the door and deposit the bag onto the kitchen counter, breathing in the savory smells of the contents. The sound of knocking, the tap, double tap, tap on the door signals Izzy's arrival pulls me from my thoughts.

"Hey there, (Y/N/N), I have the, uh, tests." Izzy calls from down the hall.

"I'm in the kitchen, Iz. Food just got here." I call back. Izzy walks into the kitchen with bag in hand.

"Uh, do you want to do this first or eat?" Izzy asks, setting the bag on the counter.

"Food, that way I can tell you about, uh, why I needed these." I grab the bag and motion for her to follow me into the living room.

"You and Tom what?!" Izzy yells, making me blush and let out a small laugh, "(Y/N/N)-"

"Okay, it wasn't planned, it just kinda happened. And then it happened, uh a few more times-" I shake my head, placing a hand over my forehead.

"I do not want to hear about this." Izzy laughs, then she looks at me seriously, "but you think that there's a possibility that you are pregnant?"

"I'm on birth control," I state, setting the empty to-go container on the coffee table, "but it is always possible that it didn't work." I whisper, looking at a few picture frames that sit on a bookshelf to my left. Showing pictures from my high school graduation, Izzy's first book signing, my first PAX, and the first premiere I attended with Tom.

"Well, I'm not leaving until you take the test. And, you know me," Izzy grabs my hand and smiles at me, "I am here for the long run."

"Thanks, Iz." I lean forward and pulling her into a hug. After a few minutes I pull away, letting out an annoyed groan. "Well, now I am gonna go in the bathroom and, pee on a stick." Izzy laughs as I stand from the couch and walk to the bathroom with the box in hand.

~

I pace the small length of the bathroom while Izzy sits on the bathtub, waiting for the timer on my phone to go off.

"Everything is going to be okay, (Y/N/N)," Izzy states, holding out her hand.

I take it and squeeze, "I just," I run a hand over my face, "I just don't know how I should feel about-" the timer on my phone going off on the counter cuts me off. I look at her in a panic, and begin to shake my head, "I can't look at it, I can't, Izzy."

"We will look at it together, and whatever happens, everything will be okay." Izzy states, holding my hand. The two of us walk over and take the test upside down in our hands. She looks at me, "Ready?"

"As I will ever be." I whisper. We take one more deep breath before flipping the test over.

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

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think! Reblog and comment!

@revenantwriting​ | @bellagrayson-wayne​ | @jackiehollanderr

Chapter Eight

[lefaystrent]

Dog Days

Fandom: Thomas Sanders, Sanders Sides

Pairings: platonic LAMP/Thomas, borrower!sides

Summary: “Hey, I need you to look at me so I know you can hear me. Can you do that for me kiddo?” 

The voice was kind, and patient, and all the things Thomas thought he could ignore. But without much thought, he turned his head a bit to seek out the voice’s owner. A small figure stood there on the carpet, small enough to be mistaken for a doll but moving too much to not be sentient.

(Alternatively, in the midst of grieving for his beloved pet, comfort comes to Thomas in a curiously small form.)

Notes: Because I really needed another multi-chap fic . . . I plan to add a few more parts to it. Fingers crossed!

WARNINGS: pet death, in-depth descriptions of grief

AO3 Link

Everyone who knew Thomas knew how much he adored his dog. He’d had the border collie for a couple of years now, treated her like she was his own child, always spoiling her with treats, toys, and belly rubs. It made living alone in his small apartment a lot more bearable, to come home to her happy jumping and demands to be pet.

She took up a lot of attention in his life; that’s why he noticed that lately she seemed less energetic. She slept more, ate less, and her long fur couldn’t hide the weight loss. The day she didn’t get up to greet Thomas at the door when he returned home, he knew there was something deeply wrong.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he told her as he loaded her into the car. She could sense his stress and whimpered.

He almost regretted taking her to the vet. Almost, because even if he could have lived in ignorance longer, it didn’t make the truth go away.

Thomas remembered standing by his beloved pet, stroking a hand down her back absently as the vet spoke to him, voice matter-of-fact. The words passed through him, only a few batting back and forth in his brain like some sick version of ping pong.

“Liver isn’t processing . . . birth defect . . . there’s nothing you could have done.”

He took her home that day and settled her on her pet bed in the living room. He laid down beside her for the longest time, fingers brushing lightly at her ears.

“You’re okay,” he whispered to her. “You’re okay, sweetie.”

They still had a few days. A few days before he needed to . . .

They still had a few days.

When Thomas came home today, it wasn’t to the sound of paws scampering down the hallway. The apartment was dark, the light from the microwave clock shining like a beacon. Thomas barely had the presence of mind to toss his keys on the breakfast bar. He didn’t turn on any lights or open the blinds. He navigated through the blackened rooms and found himself lying in the floor by the pet bed again, using the cushion as a pillow and letting thoughts rush through his head. 

He thought about rust-colored fur and eyes of calming honey.

He thought about if she had known in the end, if she had hated him for it.

He thought about begging for forgiveness.

But he had no words left.

So he closed his eyes and pretended he wasn’t alone.

Days went by. 

Thomas didn’t try to work. He didn’t try to pretend he was okay.

His friends called. Some stopped by. But when finding him unresponsive, they figured he needed time and left him be.

He spent most of his time laying by the pet bed. It was too much effort to climb the stairs, so he didn’t. He didn’t mind sleeping in the floor.

A blur. Time narrowed down to a blur, and Thomas happily lost himself in it. He forgot to shower. He forgot to eat. He forgot what the point of it all was.

“Hey there,” a voice broke through the blur. 

Once again, Thomas was curled up on the floor. His eyes were open, but they weren’t comprehending much of anything. He blinked sluggishly, tired no matter how much he’d been sleeping recently.

“Kiddo?”

Or maybe he was half-asleep and couldn’t tell reality from dream anymore. He lived alone. No one should be there. No one . . .

“Hey, I need you to look at me so I know you can hear me. Can you do that for me kiddo?”

The voice was kind, and patient, and all the things Thomas thought he could ignore. But without much thought, he turned his head a bit to seek out the voice’s owner. A small figure stood there on the carpet, small enough to be mistaken for a doll but moving too much to not be sentient. Thomas blinked at him, estimating him to be four inches tall. He’d never met a person so tiny—never thought they existed outside of fairy tales—and for some reason it didn’t bother him at all.

The small man smiled a smile that was friendly, if not a bit strained. His hands were clasped together tightly. “There you go,” he said to Thomas. “I was a bit worried there. You haven’t gotten up in a long time. When’s the last time you’ve had some water?”

Thomas didn’t answer. He thought about answering, but he didn’t know himself. If he really took a moment, he’d probably realize how parched his mouth felt. But it was hard to feel much of anything these days.

The man twiddled his fingers. He glanced around for a minute before daring to take a few steps closer. If Thomas wanted to, he could reach out and pick him up.

"Better yet, when’s the last time you ate anything?” he asked.

It was weird, because more than wondering where the small man came from, Thomas was confused as to why he cared. Why did it matter if he hadn’t eaten anything? Was it really that big a deal?

“Kiddo, you need to eat something,” he said gently.

“Why?” Thomas croaked out, voice cracking roughly on the word. The man jumped a little, not expecting Thomas to answer. Even Thomas didn’t expect himself to answer. It just sort of happened.

His eyes warmed in sympathy. “Thomas . . . you’ll die if you don’t.”

Thomas wondered if this guy had any idea. He wondered if he knew what it was like, to care for something with all your heart, to be responsible for their life and happiness.

To fail them utterly.

“I don’t care,” Thomas said, eyes watering briefly. The ache in his chest spread out to encompass him entirely, and for a second he felt like he couldn’t breathe. And for another second, he didn’t feel like he deserved to.

“Oh honey,” the man fretted, inching closer but unable to do anything. “I know you loved her. I know you tried. But she—”

“She’s gone,” Thomas cut him off, looking him in the eyes. “She’s gone.”

And nothing would change that.

No amount of words. No amount of hours spent lying on the floor. No amount of tears he shed.

Nothing.

Thomas curled in on himself, burying his face in the safety of arms. He yearned for the blurriness to come back, to live his days in a haze until the ache didn’t make him hate himself anymore.

He thought the small man had given up. He didn’t hear anything for a long while. But after some time, he felt a tentative touch on his wrist.

“You’re still here,” the voice said. “You’re still here, Thomas. That might not matter to you, but I promise it would matter to her.”

Several minutes passed before Thomas found the strength to look up. The man was gone by then, but beside the pet bed he found a single saltine cracker waiting to be eaten.

Thomas didn’t cry when the vet put down his dog. He didn’t cry when he came home or when he buried her or during the lonely days he spent drifting through the apartment. He didn’t cry in all that time, believing he had forgotten how to.

But somehow, this small act of kindness cracked the walls of grief.

And when they broke, he wailed.

Tag list: @spectralheartt @a-pastel-pan @notalwaysthevillian @rose-gold-roman @ijustrealizedhowdumbmynamewas @katie-the-noble-fangirl @yourroyalydramaticanxiousness @aroundofapplesauce @merlybird500 @beach-fan @jemthebookworm  @whats-going-on-kiddos @randomsandersides @gamerfreddie @unring-this-bell @that-royal-ravenclaw (let me know if you want to be added or removed from this story’s tag list)

[redhoodssweetheart]

Fools Rush In  3/?

Genre: Alternate Universe, Romance, Fluff, Slight Angst

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, Mentions of character death, alcohol mentions,  mention of a miscarriage but nothing graphic in later chapters,  angst later on in the series.

Description:  Bucky oversees the buildings of clubs and bars and when he gets back from a recently completed project he learns he’s heading out to Las Vegas to build a new one and if he does a good job he’ll get the Brooklyn project, something he’s been coveting for a long time.  But when he meets you things take a different turn than he expected. 

A Month and a Half Later

Bucky was sitting with Steve in his kitchen having dinner when there was a knock on his door.  The two friends looked at one another in confusion. “Were you expecting someone?” Steve asked.

Bucky shook his head, “No, no one on the job site knows where I live.  The only people that have been here have been you, the pizza delivery boy, the mailman, and Y/N.”  He hadn’t stopped thinking about you since you had abandoned him the morning after the two of you had slept together.

He stood and headed for the door and when he opened it you were the last person he was expecting to see.  You were heading back to your car, thinking you had the wrong house when you heard the door open. You turned slowly and saw him standing there a shocked expression on his face.  “Hi, Bucky,” you said lamely.

He blinked, his brain suddenly catching up with him, “Y/N, oh my God.  Hey.” He took a few steps out of his home, “What’re you—”

“Doing here?”  You supplied. He nodded.  “I needed to speak with you.  Can I come in?”

He nodded, “Yeah, come on in, let me kick Steve out and then we can talk.”  He let you inside and you lingered in the living room, you could hear his and Steve’s voice drifting in from the kitchen.

A moment later Bucky appeared followed by Steve.  Steve smiled at you and you offered a shy one back.  You wondered what Bucky had told him about you. Steve walked over and stuck his hand out to you, “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.  I’m Steve.”

“It’s a pleasure,” you responded.  “Bucky spoke highly of you.”

Steve blushed, “I’m sure it was all lies whatever it said.  Well, it was nice meeting you, I’ll let the two of you talk.  I’ll see you on Monday, Buck.”

“Bye Steve,” he said, his eyes still on you.  The door clicked shut behind him and the two of you were alone for the first time since you met.  “Make yourself comfortable. Do you want anything to eat or drink? I made lasagna.”

Your stomach rolled at the thought of eating, you quickly shook your head.  “No, but thank you. Could I get some crackers and water if you have it though?”  Right now that was probably all you could stomach.

“Sure, I’ll be right back.”  He disappeared back into the kitchen and you sat down on one of his couches.  He reappeared a moment later and handed you a small plate with saltines and a glass of water.  “Here ya go.”

The two of you fell into silence as you nibbled on one of the crackers.  “I’m sorry for just showing up like this,” you said without meeting his gaze.

“I was hoping I would see you again,” he said.  “I’ve been looking for you at the bar, but the bartender said he hadn’t seen you in a while.”  He had gone back there most nights trying to see if you ever came in again, but there was no such luck.  The bartender had even told him that you hadn't been there for a while, but Bucky still hoped he would see you again.

“I haven’t really been out much since that night, haven’t really felt like it,” you said.  You needed to rip the bandaid off, but this was hard. “Bucky, there’s a reason why I’m here tonight.  There’s something I gotta tell you.”

He was on the edge of his seat waiting.  Maybe you were gonna tell him why you had run out on him after a wonderful night together.  “What?”

You took in a deep breath, “I’m pregnant.”

Bucky blinked, out of all the scenarios he pictured in his head that was not one of them.  “I, uh, but we, uh, used a condom. How is that possible?”

You finally met his gaze, he didn’t look upset or angry, this was a good start.  “One of them broke. We were pretty drunk, so I’m not surprised honestly. Look I just wanted to tell you, I figured that was the right thing to do.”  You stood up, wanting to leave as quickly as you could. “You don’t have to do anything. I just- I’m sorry.” You dashed for the door.

Bucky sat shellshocked for only a moment before he leapt up.  He wasn’t going to let you go again. “Y/N wait!” You were almost at your car when he caught your arm.  “Don’t leave me again,” you looked up at him and saw the desperate look on his face. “Just come back inside let’s talk.”

Your heart was racing.  God, why did he have to give you that puppy dog look?  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

“Because,” you growled.  “Because I’m scared!” He looked taken aback by your admission.  “I don’t do one night stands, I woke up that morning and I panicked.  And then I learned that I was pregnant and I panicked again. I know it's yours,   And I plan on having the kid and raising it, but I just figured that you wouldn’t want anything to do with it.  I just didn’t want you to be surprised years from now if a kid showed up on your doorstep claiming to be yours.”

“I was gonna make you breakfast,” he admitted.

It was your turn to look shocked, “What?”

“That morning, I was going to make you breakfast.  I was going to ask you to dinner. I wanted to see you again.”

You began to giggle uncontrollably, “You were?”

He gave you a tentative smile, “Yeah, I was.”

“We’re just doing this all wrong aren’t we?”  Your hand reached out and tentatively brushed against his.

He linked their fingers together, “Yeah we are, but that’s okay.”

Your phone beeped and you glanced down at the reminder telling you that you had to be at the Stark Casino and Hotel in thirty minutes.  “Crap, I gotta go.” He looked panicked like you were going to leave and never come back, but this time for good. “Do you want to come with me?  I have this thing tonight, you were a stop on the way, but I feel like our night is just beginning.” The two of you were standing so that you were flush against one another.

He smiled down at you, “I’d love too.”

“Great!  Hop in.” You rounded your car to where the driver side was.  You knew the two of you were going to have to talk more, but for right now you needed a distraction from that.

“So where are we going?”  He asked as the two of you headed for the strip.

“My friend is throwing a party,” you said slowly.  You sighed, that was a lie and you couldn't keep the truth from him, not when he was going to be meeting the people you considered to be family.  “No that’s a lie. He’s my adopted dad and he’s throwing a party for someone I work with.”

Bucky gulped, “Does he know?”

You shook your head, “Not yet, I’m gonna tell him, but I just don’t know when yet or even how.  Don’t worry, he’s a pretty chill guy.”

Bucky wasn’t so sure, especially if you told your adoptive dad that he had knocked you up.  He sat stiffly in the seat beside you as you headed toward the strip. He wondered what this party would be like and who he was about to meet.

You pulled into the Stark Casino and Hotel parking lot, the valet smiling at you, “Hello Ms. Y/L/N, here for the party?”

Bucky saw you smile at the valet as you tossed your keys to him, “I am, Brent.  Take care of my car for me.”

“Will do, Ms. Y/L/N, enjoy the party,” Brent slid into the front seat of your car and went to park it.

Several other people greeted you as you and Bucky made your way toward the elevators.  “You’re quite popular around here,” he murmured as you stepped into the elevator.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” you murmured hoping that he didn’t freak out when he saw who your adoptive father was.

The elevator doors opened to the penthouse suite where the music was blaring and people were already drinking fancy champagne, all except Peter who was sipping a soda.  His aunt was talking with your uncle Rhodey, she was laughing at something he was saying as Happy stood beside her with his hand on the small of her back.

“Oh my God,” Bucky whispered.  “Is that Tony Stark?”

Before you could answer Tony’s eyes landed on you, “Ah!  There she is! Kid, where the hell have you been?”

He came over and hugged you, “Sorry, Uncle Tony, I had to pick someone up.”

Tony pulled away and looked at Bucky who had paled slightly.  “And you are?”

“A friend,” you said.  “Bucky this is my adoptive dad, Tony Stark.”

Bucky held out his hand to Tony, “Bucky Barnes, it’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

Tony glanced at you before gripping Bucky’s hands, “Walk with me, Barnes.”  He slung an arm over Bucky’s shoulders.

“Tony,” you said in a warning tone.

“Go see Pep, Y/N,” he said.  “I’ll take good care of Barnes.”  He continued to lead a helpless looking Bucky away from you.  You sighed hoping that Tony didn’t scare him off before the end of the night.  “So Barnes, tell me how long have you been dating my precious Y/N?”

“Uh, not long, I mean we’re not even dating, she’s just a friend,” he hoped that lie sounded convincing enough, but he didn’t think Tony was buying it.

“Has she told you about her parents yet?”  Tony’s face looked serious as he asked the question.

“No,” he shook his head.  

“Not surprising, she doesn’t like to talk about them.”  Tony picked up a champagne flute and handed it to Bucky.  Bucky hadn’t really drank anything since his night with you, but he took a few sips not wanting to be rude.  “There was an accident, her father was one of my brightest engineers and one of my closest friends. He and his wife went out one night and they had a car accident.  Y/N’s mother is currently in a coma, they’re not sure if she’ll ever wake up.”

Bucky’s eyes glanced over at you.  You were currently hugging a teenager, your smile bright as the two of you talked.  There was a blond man and the redhead from the bar standing next to the two of you. You seemed content to be surrounded by familiar faces, unlike how you had been when you had arrived at his home.  “That’s what she meant,” he murmured as he remembered the conversation he had had with you the first time they met.

“I’m surprised she even brought you, she never brings anyone home,” Tony took a sip of his champagne.  “She must really like you.”

Bucky wanted to feel hopeful, but he wondered if this was more because you were pregnant than the fact that you actually liked him.  “I hope so,” he turned his attention back to Tony. “I really like her.”

“Who are we talking about?”  You wrapped your arm around Bucky’s waist, nestling into his side.  

“You,” Tony said.  “Just making sure Barnes here understands how wonderful you are, kid.”

You shook your head, “Okay, well stop hogging him, the others would like to meet him, and I want him to meet Pep before you have a chance to scare him off.”

Tony waved a hand dismissively, “Go.  I won’t keep him any longer.”

You smiled at Tony and led Bucky away, you were anxious to see how the others would react to Bucky, but you hoped they would like him.  

[coffeebeandragon]

Sweet Dreams a TRR AU

This a The Royal Romance sort-of AU. I had an idea for a series and decided to give it a go. Hope you like it!

Chapter 2: Leather

Pairing: MC (Naomi Summers) x Drake, MC x Liam

Word Count: ~2700

Warnings: Mild swearing, NSFW

Tag List: @fluffy-marshmallow-heart, @drakesensworld

Catch up on Chapter 1: Secrets in Paris

LEATHER

“You need to sober up.” Liam put a coffee and some saltines in front of Drake. “We’ll be landing in ten minutes.”

“She could be anywhere.” Drake groaned into his hands. “Paris is a huge city—”

“Not as big as New York” Maxwell chirped from the corner. “And we found her there.”

“That was a one in a million encounter.”

“Little Blossom is one in a million.” Maxwell looked up from the in-flight phone. He had excused himself from conversation to use it, something about ‘urgent matters’. Liam was too distracted to inquire what Maxwell’s definition of ‘urgent’ was. Maxwell went back to muttering into the receiver, so Liam turned his full attention on Drake.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Liam put a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder even though Drake tried to shrug it off. “We’re all upset by this—”

“Upset?” Drake took an angry bite out of the crackers, before spitting it out into a napkin. “I’m upset that you’re feeding me this garbage. I’m not upset about Summers, I’m fucking pissed. How could you do that, Li? You were supposed to protect her.”

“I am protecting her.” Liam sighed. “We’ve gone over this, Drake.”

“She’s definitely not safe and now she’s missing and all because Tariq…”

“I know he stepped out of line.”

“You call trying to rape a girl ‘out of line’?” Drake smacked Liam’s hand away from his shoulder, harder this time. “Something could have happened to her! You’re lucky I was there—”

“What do you mean, ‘you were there’?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore. She’s gone.”

Drake shot straight out of his seat and slammed the bathroom door. Everything went quiet, until Maxwell popped over to Liam and sat down, looking the most concerned Liam had ever seen him. It would’ve been excruciating, like looking at a puppy getting kicked, but Liam was already getting kicked by his best friend.

“Maxwell… does it…” Liam cleared his throat. “Does it seem like Drake is having an extreme reaction to Lady Naomi’s absence?”

“Ya know, Li…” Maxwell shifted his eyes down. “I think we’re all just really tired, and they’re really close friends you know.”

“Yeah I know.” Liam went over all the events in his brain, trying to remember them together but he couldn’t. He was so focused on the stupid events and getting Naomi to like him that he couldn’t remember anything. “You know I asked him to look after her for me?”

“Why? Didn’t think I was up to the job?”

“It’s not that, Maxwell… It’s just, I don’t know. I have this feeling that maybe this is all my fault.” Liam himself wasn’t even sure was ‘this’ was, but it was starting to feel worse by the second. “I’m sorry to bother you with this. You’ve been great.”

“We’re gonna find her.” Maxwell shoved a couple crackers in his mouth, chewing haphazardly. “Naomi’s smart, she should be easy to find. In fact, I already have a lead.”

***

Naomi woke up a little hungover and more than a little heartbroken. She went over into the living room where Sierra was already nursing Bartie. It was nice to have someone around, some to talk to, after it all. She opened her mouth to speak, but then the phone rang and Sierra yanked up her shirt and handed Naomi the baby, dashing off to the bedroom. Naomi put Bartie in the high chair, played peek-a-boo, got him a bowl of cereal. It was a few minutes before she heard his mother’s footsteps again.

“Who was that on the phone?” Naomi stacked cereal on Bartie’s tray in a little tower. He loved to knock it down and do it all over again. “Bartie keeps destroying my towers. Godzilla baby!”

“No one.” Bartie clapped his hands when his mother strolled back into the kitchen, smiling as usual but with a little crease of worry etched in her forehead. “Do you like scrambled or over-easy?”

“Whatever you’re having is fine.” Naomi ruffled the baby’s hair and stood up quickly. “Do you mind if I use the phone?”

“It’s in the other room.” Sierra waved a spatula over her shoulder. “I’m gonna eat without you if you don’t make it quick. A mama’s gotta eat.”

Naomi didn’t say anything as she slipped into Sierra’s bedroom. A crib, a bed, a dresser— still no family photos. The phone sat on the edge of the nightstand. A perfect picture of Sierra and Bartie smiling at a café, no father at all. Naomi opened the phone to the last called number, listening to it ring in time with her nervous heart.

“The call you have made cannot be completed as dialed.”

“Damn it.” Naomi set the phone down. She was sure she heard Sierra talking to someone. And that weird sound last night, it almost sounded like a man’s voice. Not Drake but familiar. She had definitely heard a ‘Drake’. She could be crazy, but it was even crazier that this woman was letting her stay and she seemed so familiar... What had she said about Cordonia? Everything was starting to get a little muddled. She shouldn’t have done it, but she couldn’t stop. She had to know who Sierra really was.

Flipping open the phone, she scrolled straight down the photos. Baby pictures, memes, everything in order… until she got to the bottom. Sierra, so young and gorgeous, in a baby pink ballgown. She was on a worn-in leather couch, smiling, her cheeks rosy. She knew that couch. She started at the phone until her memories took over. That kiss, then another, then another. A shirt being pulled up ever so slowly…

***

The morning of the Beaumont Bash. The cleaners had cancelled. The help had cancelled. Totally normal, right? Except they were having a party later that day. Maxwell and Bertrand had been arguing nonstop. Naomi tried to focus on cleaning, arranging flowers with Drake, but the shouting got louder and louder.

“Just don’t listen to it.” Drake was pushing stems around. “Hey, I’m getting pretty good at—”

“Dammit, Drake, we need to talk about the other night.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He turned and went to the other vase, but Naomi followed him. “Come on, Summers, we can’t be doing this.”

“We’re talking.” She sidled up to him, purposefully moving closer to him, like she was looking at the flowers. “Totally innocent.”

“Nothing about you is totally innocent…” He turned toward her, his brown eyes boring into hers, his jaw set. She could almost feel the pure want in his eyes, staring into hers. He took a ragged breath and moved his hand to the same stem she was holding. She wanted to press into him, but she couldn’t get any closer without it being obvious. His pinky moved to stroke the inside of her palm, so slowly. Her heartbeat sped up to match his as he breathed out. “Summers, we just can’t—”

“We’re going to the store!” Maxwell burst out of the study and they jumped apart. “Need some more champagne! You know I like to get down!”

“And napkins, Maxwell.” Bertrand trailed him sternly, carefully closing the door behind him and locking it. “We actually need napkins.”

“Need anything while we’re out?” Maxwell grinned at them. “Candy? Condoms?”

“Maxwell!” Bertrand scolded, while both Drake and Naomi blushed at the floor. “That is highly inappropriate!”

“It’s from a movie.” Maxwell frowned. “Get with the times! They know I’m joking.”

“We’re fine, Max.” Naomi tried to fix her face into something casual. “Have fun.”

Maxwell and Bertrand left without another word. Drake had carefully moved himself to the other side of the room, but Naomi trailed after him.

“Hey, did you see that?”

“Us almost getting caught? Yeah, I saw it.” Drake frowned as Naomi smiled mischievously. “Oh god, what’s that look for?”

“Did you see how Bertrand locked the study door? This whole thing is weird, you know?”

“I’m just here to help.”

“You’re here for the free whiskey.” Naomi grinned and grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards the study door. She got down on the ground and pulled a bobby pin out of her hair, twisting it to jimmy the lock. “Are you gonna stand there or help me?”

“I’m just here to watch… Uh, keep watch… You know we shouldn’t be doing this.”

“You can admit you like it when I’m on my knees.” She grinned up at him as he blushed, but didn’t say anything. Finally, the door popped and swung open. “Aha! See? Easy!”

“Alright, you first then.” Drake held the door open for her, ushering her inside before clicking it shut. “You’re a real James Bond.”

“Does that make you a Bond girl?” Naomi grinned, before heading over to the bookshelf. “You think they have a secret passageway in here?”

“If Maxwell had his way, then sure.” Drake rubbed the back of his neck. “We probably shouldn’t be in here.”

“We’ll just tell them we got lost. It’s gonna be at least an hour. Shopping with Maxwell is… Let’s just say you would hate it.”

“Heh. You’re probably right…” Drake looked at her again, with those brown eyes. She could feel them on her back even though she couldn’t see him. She knew his eyes were tracing over the back of her. She smiled to herself at the thought. “Hey, Summers…”

She turned back around to realize he was right behind her. She could feel him towering over her, his breath on her ear as he bent to kiss her neck. She felt an electric pulse go through her whole body as his lips met her skin.

“Drake…” Naomi looked up at him through her lashes, at his square jaw, the stubble lining it, his brown eyes, his broad shoulders. She let her hand creep up his arm until her fingers were tracing his Adam’s apple then tangling up in his hair. She licked her lips, feeling his dick press onto her thigh, so hard. His eyes dark with lust. She breathed onto his jaw, the whisper of a kiss. “Tell me you want me.”

“I want you, Summers. More than anything in this world.”

She pushed her lips to his, without thinking, unable to bear another second without his mouth on her. She opened up to him as he explored her mouth, gently biting and sucking on her bottom lip, his hands roaming over her body, over her hips and ass. She moaned quietly into his mouth, feeling him smile through the kiss at the sound. He knew she wanted this. She knew he wanted this.

Without another word, Drake pushed everything on the desk onto the floor with one sweep of his arm. He lifted her up onto it as he raced to lift her shirt off somehow never breaking their kiss. Naomi could feel her heart pounding in her ears. Her hands trembled over the buttons on his denim shirt. She felt one hand behind her trying to undo her bra and the other tangling up in her by the nape of her neck. Finally, she pushed him away and he was breathing hard, only in a tight t-shirt now, his eyes trailing her up and down, as she slowly slid her arms out of her bra straps. She wiggled out of her jeans and turned around as she pulled off her own underwear, excruciatingly slow.

“Do you like it?”

“I think I’d better get a closer look.”

Then, in one motion, he scooped her up into his arms, placing her on her back on the couch. He hovered over her, pulling his shirt over his unbearably slow revealing his rippling abs to her one by one. She saw a flicker of something blue, before her eyes fluttered shut. His mouth was trailing hot and wet down her neck, over her collarbone, finally finding her breast and popping a nipple in his mouth while he gently pinched the other one. He went lower and lower until he found her, ready for him, before he dove into her folds with his tongue and pleasure exploded in her body. He kissed and licked her as she moaned, her hands going through his dark hair.

“Please, more.” At that he went even slower, teasing her, before pressing a finger right at her entrance. She wiggled, dangerously close; it was so much, his mouth, his hands, then he finally put his finger in, moving in and out, and then pumping faster until she came apart around his fingers and she cried his name out. “God, take me, Drake!”

He came up and kissed her so she could lick her own juices from his face, grabbing his length and guiding him over to her. With that, he entered her in own swift motion and they both cried out at the feeling of being whole, being finally together. He moved inside her, peppering her face with kisses, increasing his speed gently until he felt her nails on her back and her breath so fast and so shallow. He put his hand on her neck gently, so he could lift up and see himself pushing in and out of her. How beautiful she looked taking it. He felt her start to tighten around him so he kissed her again, before growling.

“That’s it, baby. Come on.” He pumped in and out of her mercilessly before she came undone again. Then he groaned, spilling himself inside her, refusing to move. They held each other on the leather couch, so close, so together, in absolute bliss.

***

Focus. Focus on right now. She looked back at the phone. Sierra on the leather couch. She wondered if her experience on the couch had been as good as hers. She smiled and then wiped it away. She had to focus, not get stuck in daydreams. It could’ve been any couch right? People had leather couches everywhere. She was seeing things. She wanted to see that couch right?  Naomi stared at the photo until her eyes started to hurt. What was happening?

“Eggs are done.” Sierra called into the room from the kitchen.

“Coming!” Naomi set the phone down, exactly as she found it, and went over for breakfast. Sierra was already seated with her plate, airplaning food into Bartie’s mouth. Naomi looked at her own plate, suddenly feeling sick. Eggs weren’t a great hangover food. “Thanks for the eggs.”

“You should have my brother’s eggs.” Sierra didn’t look over. “He loves breakfast food.”

“Tell me more.” Naomi pushed her eggs around with her fork, still watching Sierra, worried she didn’t know her well enough to start asking prying questions. “About your brother, I mean. There aren’t many pictures in here.”

“Well he’s not exactly a snazzy dresser.” Sierra rolled her eyes. “He’s a simple guy, but good, you know? He really means well.”

“Does he help with Bartie?” Naomi tried to sound casual. Not ask anything about any couches or pictures or anything suspicious. “Is he in Paris?”

“He, uh, went to college in America so I don’t hear so much from him anymore.”

“That’s too bad.” Naomi took a bite of egg, then pushed her food away. She normally loved eggs. Maybe it was because they were scrambled. Just didn’t look right. “I don’t hear from anybody either.”

“Alone in the world, huh?” Sierra smiled kindly and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Right beneath her ear, was a little blue fish tattoo. It was practically a sliver but incredibly detailed. It was beautiful. The longer Naomi looked at it, the more she couldn’t unsee it. “Staring at my tattoo?”

“Its gorgeous.” Naomi swallowed., pushing memories back down. “Something special about the fish?”

“My brother and I used to go fishing with our dad.” Sierra sighed happily wiping Bartie’s chin. “He has one, too, my brother, on his ribcage. His is a lot bigger than mine, but—”

Naomi ran out of the room, straight into the bathroom and threw up, but all she could see was that fish tattoo hovering over her on that leather couch.

“Are you okay?” Sierra called after her. “Too much wine?”

“Something like that.” Naomi wiped her mouth off. Hoping it wasn’t what she was starting to suspect.

[alluran]

autumn leaves

klancetober day two | direct follow-up w/ even more romantic gestures to one we were in screaming color

“Keith, buddy. I know we’ve had our rough patches and you’re probably still out for revenge from the last prank, but does it all really warrant you bringing a literal bag of garbage into my apartment when I’m already sick?”

Keith set the grocery bag on the coffee table in front of Lance’s overzealous cold cocoon on the couch. “Be prepared to eat those words.”

“Sorry, Hunk’s got me on a strict soup and saltines regimen, nothing too acidic.”

He rolled his eyes as Lance struggled to sit up in the pile of blankets he had tangled himself into since the first sign of a fever. He bit the inside of his cheek when Lance finally got halfway to sitting all of the way up. “What was that two weeks ago about taking the boy out of the sub-tropical climate?”

“Okay it’s not my fault that I enjoy seasonal changes, but my body does not. You’re really out to kick a man when he’s already down, aren’t you?”

“Something like that.” Keith called over his shoulder as he left Lance to find his legs in the mess of blankets, He pulled out his phone to read over a text from Shiro and started to pull Sprite and soup from the fridge. It took some effort to hunt down the tapped supply of saltines in the cabinet, but he got everything and made his way back to Lance.

Who was spilled over the edge of the couch, one leg still hopelessly tangled in the blankets and the other sticking straight out in the air.

“How have you not died without supervision yet?”

Lance sniffed. “I’ll have you know this doesn’t happen every time.” Lance tracked Keith’s movements, setting the crackers and drink down on the table to put soup in the microwave. “But please, take your time. My immune system and upper body strength is just compromised and all of the blood is rushing painfully to my head.”

Keith crossed him arms and raised his eyebrow down at Lance. “I don’t know, I think your brain could use a little extra blood flow for a change.”

Lance groaned and slid more onto the floor before Keith finally took mercy on him and came to help him. Lance knew he ran warm, even warmer with the cold from hell wreaking havoc on his skin despite the care he took in it, but the first brush of Keith’s hand on his arm was incredible. He was a very tactile person. Keith had nice, strong hands. So sue him if he couldn’t think of anything better than the relief of cool, calloused fingers wrapped around his arm before they warmed up as Lance was righted. Having a cold felt isolating, not that he expected Hunk to still be down for cuddles and hugs when he was gross and contagious, but he was weak for something more than a measured shoulder pat or brief circle of fingers between his shoulder blades.

Which were good things, he wasn’t complaining.

He just happened to buzz with the want of someone beside him despite the coughing and the worrying amount of empty tissue boxes surrounding him.

Lance settled back into the couch and sighed when Keith’s hand didn’t immediately pull away but brushed down his arm.

Man, he was tired again already.

“Don’t fall asleep.”

Lance peeked one eye open at Keith. “Rest is literally what I need right now, Keef.”

“I promised Hunk I would make sure you ate something before you went back into another coma nap.”

“Hm, and what does this have to do with the gift of trash?”

The microwave beeped, cutting off Keith’s retort. Lance’s eyes snapped to the grocery bag on his coffee table with dirt or something in it. Keith probably brought him the plague without even realizing it. Well, it was nice while it lasted. If he died at least he wouldn’t have to deal with the god awful stuffy nose that made just existing suck. The second he didn’t have it, he was going to devote a whole four hours to appreciating cleared up sinuses.

Why had he been so ungrateful before this?

Breathing unhindered was great. He could sit or lay down in any position without his body suffocating itself. He wasn’t just restricted to the one position that allowed him to breathe but may have permanently molded his back into a lowercase r.

“Solid point, I’ll remember to be more grateful I don’t have all of that.” Keith gestured to Lance as he set Hunk’s soup in front of him. “But being dramatic about it is just going to make you more miserable, so..”

Oh, he’d said that out loud.

Freaking Benadryl.

Lance shook his head and reached for the bowl when he noticed Keith go down his hallway. “Uh, where ya going, bud?”

“You’re out of tissues.”

“Oh, we might have another box in the hallway closet? Whiiiiich you just passed?”

Keith ducked out of his line of sight, definitely sneaking into his bedroom. “Yep.”

“Hey now! Just because a man’s down, doesn’t mean you get to tear through his room. Get your mullet back here, you jerk.” Keith didn’t answer him. Lance knew he could definitely hear him. His body lurched with the thought of standing. So taking Keith down was out of the question. “I will come to your house and move all of your furniture a fraction of an inch so you stub every one of your toes if you do not get back out here now, Kogane.”

The sound of the hallway closet opening and shutting muffled Keith’s words. “I don’t think it has the impact you’re hoping for if you tell me about it beforehand.”

Keith appeared back in the living room, tossing an unopened box of tissues on the couch beside Lance and set the camera he gave him beside the mysterious bag of trash.

Panic rose in Lance’s chest because he knew for a fact that he had a gnarly pillow crease on the left side of his face that went from his ear, up his cheekbone, and over his eyebrow. He was in a t-shirt that had been washed and worn so many times that the collar never went back to normal, it hung low against his collarbone making it look more like it had been worn and not washed. His pores screamed at him because he had to cut his skin routine short for the sake of rest and not standing longer than ten minutes at a time. Add to that the two empty tissue boxes, overflowing waste basket of used tissues and saltine packages. It was a waking nightmare.

“W-what. Whatchya doing with my camera?” His voice climbed several octaves as Keith turned it on and adjusted the settings.

Once he was done, he set it in front of Lance and relief washed over him. At least if Keith decided that whatever he had planned paled in comparison for a revenge opportunity, then Lance had some chance to lean forward fast enough to fight Keith for it.

“You’ll see. Also, eat before the soup gets cold.” Keith sat down on the floor on the other side of the coffee table, not pausing in his work as he untied the grocery bag and began to pull things out.

Cold medicine was seriously messing with Lance because he was in no way prepared for Keith to start pulling leaves out of the bag and lining them up on the coffee table like it made the best sense in the world. Like this was something people did. Ate soup and saltines while staring at leaves in various stages of decay. Total normal, wholesome American past time. 100%.

Lance lifted the spoon to his mouth and swallowed, the warmth uncurling some of the tension in his chest. “You’re gonna have to give me a hint here. I’m lost. And vaguely still concerned you’re going to throw trash at me.”

Keith sighed, looking back up at Lance through his eyelashes like Lance had asked the world’s dumbest question. “You’re too sick to go to the park and I didn’t know how long it would take you to get better.”

He said it so earnestly, Lance didn’t have the heart to question him further. He sat back and ate in silence, watching Keith focus back on his work as he carefully pulled more leaves out of the sack and lined them up on the table, occasionally switching one leaf with another in the line. A deep burgundy leaf, almost the size and width of Keith’s palm was at Keith’s right, followed by a vibrant red. The leaf looked like a Valentine with its shape resembling a heart. Keith rifled through the bag and considered a yellow and a green one, setting them both aside to rummage for an orange one.

Lance swallowed thickly as he tried to make no sudden movement or noise as he set the half eaten bowl of soup back on the coffee table and reached for the camera.

No way.

No. Way.

There was no way Keith couldn’t hear how fast and loud Lance was breathing through his mouth, but he kept working. Lance raised the camera to his eye, finding the top of Keith’s dark head in the viewfinder, his small ponytail curled toward his neck. He lowered the shot to catch the line of leaves, laid out in the start of an impressive gradient. Lance made sure none of his food or the tissue boxes interrupted the frame as he focused and hoped Keith wouldn’t get suspicious and look up too soon.

Lance bit his lip and clicked the shutter button, the noise and flash catching Keith’s attention a beat later.

“Lance.”

“Told you I’d get your picture.” He smiled, the brief irritation on Keith’s face falling away as he looked at Lance with a small tilt to his mouth.

There was a brief tickle at the back of his head, he thought he had seen the look before. He didn’t know what to make of it yet.

Hunk was tired when he got home, his brain complete goo after his shift at work. It took him a solid three tries to get the door unlocked and then, two more times to get the key out of the lock once it was opened. It really shouldn’t have almost brought him to tears, but there he was. Emotionally drained and ready to fight the front door.

It was a miracle Lance had slept through his very loud tussle, he was a light sleeper for the most part and since he struggled breathing it was a fight for Lance’s body to relax enough to allow him the kind of fitful rest he needed. A spark of panic rushed through him. Hunk softly shut the door and walked closer to the couch, studying the mountain of blankets currently hiding his best friend and waited.

Lance shuddered in his sleep and coughed.

“Okay, good. Good. Very good. You’re not dead.” Hunk scrubbed a hand over his face and kicked off his shoes. “Obviously you can’t breathe better yet, but not dead. That’s all I’m asking for here. Wha-” He turned to the table, ready to tackle the damage Lance did on the tissue boxes and a filmy soup bowl.

His brain came to a painful halt.

The information his eyeballs took in did not compute. He was tired and stressed, but he didn’t think it was bad enough be into full on, very vivid and convincing hallucination of a clean coffee table. Even Lance’s waste basket was empty and had a fresh bag in it. Hunk gingerly walked backwards toward the kitchen.

A reverse robber? Some perverse serial murder that was hiding in the hall closet that went out of their way to make everything look pleasant before the real nightmare? The ghost he definitely heard crinkle a candy wrapper behind him the other day when no one else was home???

He really couldn’t handle a poltergeist.

Sure they started out not as threatening and okayish but they never stayed that way. It was October, they had to be at Maximum Strength or something. They cleaned Lance’s soup bowl, even let it properly dry in the dish rack, and twisted the open saltine pack shut with one of their chip clips. Major props.

Hunk went back out to the living room, Lance still passed out and unaware of the panic settling in. They needed to thank the ghost and then get out. No waiting. No going to sleep with the TV on. No s-

Okay, definitely an evil poltergeist because there was literally a bag of trash sitting on the floor at the end of the couch Lance was laying on. It was probably leaking death spores into the air.

He carefully brushed his toe against the bag - maybe the spiders and scorpions were just hidden and waiting for him to get close before they would crawl out.

Nothing happened.

Hunk leaned over the bag and saw a scrap of white that sat on the top of the- were those leaves? He plucked the object off of the top and stared at it.

It was a solid minute later and he was still staring.

The picture answered some things, mostly there were only more questions. He understood it in parts - the top of Keith’s head angled over the coffee table, leaves laid out in a gradient, the flash that washed out his skin in comparison to his black t-shirt, his relaxed posture. Put together? Zero sense.

Hunk glanced over the picture at Lance. “What have you guys been up to?”

a/n: bless hunk, honestly.

and the candy wrapper thing happened to me today while I was at my mom’s doing laundry. this one got away from me a little a bit, but I had fun with it. I wanted to combine days one and two in a chapter so the story is now up on ao3! read it here.