#so Ami can swim through his fingers

[x-i-l-verify]

「 Dream SMP Daemon AU 」 

    Ψ AWESAMDUDE + AMINA (ALLARD’S ANEMONEFISH) Ψ

Allard’s anemonefish, also called the two-banded clown, are a hardy, bold species of clownfish, which tends to roam further from their anemone than many clownfish do. They often attack other fish that get close to their anemone, fiercely defending their home and eggs from predators. They will also lure fish to their anemone in order to feed the anemone, as these fish are not immune to the anemone’s stings like the anemonefish. 

While the Allard’s anemonefish may roam further from their anemone than most species of clownfish, they still crave familiarity and their comfort zone at the end of the day, as they stay with the same anemone for life and depend on it entirely for their survival. If a smaller, weaker, more passive fish joins their anemone after them, they may bully them, though they will deign to coexist with other semi-aggressive fish. 

All clownfish are hierarchical, territorial, and competitive to some degree, and have strict dominance hierarchies in their anemones. They usually live with a partner or small group in their anemones, but they can be quite aggressive towards anemonefish of different species. The non-breeding clownfish in an anemone do not help the breeding pair tend to their eggs, as they are always looking for opportunities to oust the main breeding pair and take over the anemone themselves. The main breeding pair, however, works tirelessly to tend to their eggs until they hatch, fanning them to make sure they get the right amount of oxygen and eating bad eggs to make sure they don’t infect other healthy eggs. These clownfish are also monogamous, pairing for life.

Sam is dependable, diligent, and protective. Ami is ambitious, obsessive, and possessive.

~

NAME MEANING ”Amina” is the feminine form of Arabic Amin, meaning "honest, trustworthy," and it's also a Hebrew name meaning "faithful, trusted."

~

SOURCES https://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=23748 https://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=23411

[changingplumbob]

Pancakes Household: Chapter 9, Part 11

To ditch career day... or to not ditch career day...

CW: Distressed infant

Since Tiana cannot speak her thoughts will often be in brackets

While Eliza and Bob have taken infant leave from their jobs, there is no such option for the teens. Fergus and Onyx pop their heads into the nursery where Bob is still rocking a sleeping Tiana and kiss her goodbye for the day. Then school awaits!

It looks like the Pancakes may have missed the outfit memo for today, oops. While Onyx heads off to find some friends Fergus tries to hastily finish the homework he neglected to finish. Unfortunately his friends are not much help this morning.

Anya: I look fabulous, thank you watcher

Artemisia: Are you staring at my best bracelet friend

Darwin: What? No. I was looking for the bus

Artemisia: Looking for the bus while we’re at school, unlikely

Atlas: I don’t think he meant anything by it

Fergus: Hold up- what did you guys get for 13?

Artemisia: Look dude, just keep your eyes to yourself

Darwin: Sure, and you can keep your venom to yourself

Outside the main building Onyx and Paola have some time relaxing.

Onyx: Aim for the centre

Paola: Of course I’m aiming for the centre dummy

Zhafira: Onyx! Hey! Look who caught the bus again successfully!

Zhafira approaches the pair beaming happily.

Onyx: Congrats. Did you hear they’re shuffling classes today

Zhafira looks downcast while Onyx explains the younger and older students will be having combined classes for the morning. They'll be with some of their friends but not Zhafira who seems upset at having to get to know even more new people.

As this is happening Mrs Tinker and Mrs Hensley come over and try give Paola some tips for successful throwing. Unfortunately they have contrasting opinions and in the end the teens decide the safest option is just to pretend they’ve gotten bored and head inside.

Onyx takes a quick swim before class and still manages to get to the room before the teacher begins the lesson.

Mrs T: Today we will be buddying up. Older students please join a younger student and we will begin designing a business for this scenario

Onyx: Mrs T can’t I just buddy up with Amie since she’s beside me

Mrs T: Sorry Onyx but Mr A wants to foster whole school cooperation, that's why we're having staggered classes this morning

Carson: I wish William had been put in here

Darwin: Don’t worry, we’ll see him at lunch

Carson: And I wish some outfits didn’t make my glasses vanish, it's like I've been dressed by a computer

After class wraps up Fergus goes to talk with Artemisia.

Fergus: I’m excited to see what we’ll learn this afternoon

Artemisia: *sighs* Don’t be too excited, it’s career day

Fergus: You’re not punking me, we only just started high school. There is no career day

Artemisia: I’m serious. I’m also thinking of skipping out on it

Fergus: We can do that?

Artemisia: I reckon I can, question is do you have the guts to

Fergus: Of course I do. Onyx was still feeling ill this morning so we can use that excuse to head home

Artemisia: May the best person not be caught

Back home Eliza is carrying Tiana when the infant fusses to be put down.

Eliza: Okay then, down we go

Tiana: *coos* (I coo now mother) *coos louder*

Eliza: Was that a coo? Was that a coo? I think it was *claps*

Tiana smiles and sticks her fingers in her mouth. Mother is pleased, she must be doing well. Even though mother keeps saying the word go, Tiana is happy they haven't seemed to leave the house.

Eliza is busy feeding Tiana when Fergus walks through the room.

Eliza: Hold on! What are you doing home?

Fergus: Umm, Onyx’s head got bad again so we came home so they could get a nap

Fergus walks over to the suckling infant and holds her hand for a bit. Tiana doesn't seem to grip back yet but she's looking at him curiously.

Eliza: You came home so Onyx could nap? I don’t think so. Onyx is capable of napping by themselves

Fergus: Fine, it was career day! I don’t need to worry about that yet. I’ll do extra homework tonight I promise

Eliza burps Tiana who spits up down her back.

Eliza: Ugh. it's okay honey, we can clean that up

Fergus: Want me to grab a cloth

Eliza: Please. Now I do not want you skipping school again, but since you’re here you can walk Strawberry since you're keen to help Onyx

Fergus: But I want to- *sighs* yes mother

The house is left quiet for Onyx’s nap while Bob takes Ginger for a run and Fergus takes Strawberry for a walk.

Eliza: Come on my snuggly sleeper. You get comfy back there and you can nap while mother does her run

Tiana: *coos questioningly* (wait, no, not outside! I don't want to leave) *cries* (I want to stay with mother)

Eliza: It's okay Tiana, mother is right here with you. We're just going to check out the neighbourhood huh. You'll be okay

Eliza jogs off and keeps talking to Tiana. Eventually the regular bouncing of the back carrier and the softness of Eliza's voice lull Tiana to sleep. Eliza is delighted to hear a quiet snuffling snore at her back as she runs.

Later that day...

Fergus: Dad?

Bob: Yes

Fergus: Umm, Tiana is crying. Don’t you think you should go give her a nap rather than carry her on your back

Bob: But- she’s learning with me though

Eliza: Fergus is right Bob, she’s exhausted. Better giver her to me

Bob: But I want to spend time with her

Eliza: And so you can, when she’s awake. You know she had a hard night, she needs to catch up on sleep still

Bob: *sighs* fine. Here Tiana honey, go with your mother *whispers* I'll teach you how to cook later though

Eliza carries a grumpy over tired infant into the nursery and sits down with her in the rocking chair.

Eliza: There there Tiana, it’s okay, you just go to sleep

Tiana: *coos* (mother came back with me, I not left behind) *yawns*

Eliza: It's okay my sleepy girl, mother is right here and daddy is just down the hall. You can sleep, I'll keep you safe

Tiana does feel very tired and so she yawns and falls asleep in Eliza’s arms. It may not be winning a Nobel Prize but Eliza feels pretty proud of finding time in her schedule to snuggle with her daughter.

The teens decided to do their homework at their own desks tonight! Fergus was working away on some science as he has a class trip to the aquarium tomorrow. Onyx meanwhile did their best to study for their exams. After Onyx felt like they could confidently say they were no longer sick they went and did some cheer practice. Later in the evening Tiana woke up.

After a diaper change Eliza gets Tiana into a clean night onesie and goes in search of Bob.

Bob: Thank you for the suggestion. She’s given us so much joy already

Kayleigh: No problem at all I- oh is this her?

Eliza: *grinning* Kayleigh may I introduce our youngest? This is Tiana

Kayleigh: Oh she is precious

Bob: Come to daddy, did you have a nice nap

Eliza: She’s still quite tired, I think she’ll need a proper sleep after her bottle

Bob: We can do that

Kayleigh: I best get going, see you all later

Bob: Can you say bye bye to Kayleigh

Tiana: *coos and snuggles into shoulder* (daddy is here, mother found him for me)

Bob: *chuckles* okay, food time then

Bob is delighted to see Tiana has a healthy appetite. He prepares himself to be spat on but to his surprise only gas comes out. Snuggling Tiana close he carries her down the hall and places her in her crib. He softly tells her another tall tale and the exhausted infant falls asleep happy with the sounds of fellow sims.

Previous ... Next

[angelthefirst1]

Beth, as mermaid Amy 🧜‍♀️ ✨️ Who swam away for a time and transformed.

The very first mention of a cure in TWD happened as Amy was lying dead, but prior to her waking as a zombie.

Rick mentions the CDC while Andrea waits over Amy's body.

The writers repeat and invert everything, so it's no surprise to me that Amy and Beth are linked to a cure theme.

When Beth first opens her eyes and wakes at Grady, we not only see a visual parallel of the blue eyes opening, we also see a clock pointing to 532

532 means Ami, from which we get the name Amy.

Besides the brulent blue-eyed walkers in DD1, Amy is the only one I can think of that doesn't have yellow walker eyes upon reanimation.

The beginning is the end, and Daryl coming across the blue eyes of the brulent walkers, at the beginning of his spin-off, will be repeated with Beth's blue eyes at the end.

Amy gets given this mermaid 🧜‍♀️ necklace by Andrea for her birthday.

Emily Kinney - Mermaid song 🧜‍♀️ 🎵 🎶

Mermaid's can represent transformation and metamorphosis and can represent the merging of two worlds and the potential for change.

The beginning is the end, and Beth is linked to the first blond character to be bitten and transfrom in the show. Amy, who was present at the first mention of a cure.

I AM- name of God.

A mermaid 🧜‍♀️ swimming away.

OH OH

What changed your mind? GOOD people, aka the good news of the gospel of Jesus Christ, which is the cure.

Good actually means perfect.

Perfect news = cure

OH

Amy wears a t-shirt with stars on it when she dies, hinting to 🌟 The Morning star linked to the star of David/Israel, which her name (Ami) is also connected to.

Amy gets shot in the head in a visually similar manner to Beth.

The theme of water being involved around the time of Beth's disappearance (after Grady) is something that keeps coming up.

Oh, oh, the mermaid swimming away, and Emily's album Swimteam both seem to be lined to this theme and the pool of Bethesda.

We also saw Daryl's map wash away in Find Me when he was searching for Rick's (Beth's) body.

I recently talked about the possibility of a storm coming in when the group tries to bury Beth in my breakdown of Omaha Hotel.

Amy and Andrea are located next to the quarry filled with water when she dies and turns.

There are a few other connections to Beth and Amy that I want to mention.

Amy is Andrea's little sister, and we expect Beth to take on some of Andrea's role when she returns, becoming "little Andrea."

Amy got bitten on the arm, which is something that has been speculated happening to Beth prior to her getting to Grady (the CDC)

She also got bitten on the neck like Andrea did in season 3.

Amy took an unusually long time to turn (all night), and her sister wouldn't allow anyone to touch her or stab her through the head.

If Beth's story is a retake on Amy, then I imagine the same scenario happens with Beth.

She doesn't get stabbed in the head because they already believe the bullet put her down, but her fingers twich, like Amy's did before she awakened. Possibly causing an argument about stabbing her in the head to be safe.

Maggie and Daryl will not allow this...

When her body does go missing, they will indeed think she reaminated as a walker, causing Daryl to start tracking her, but a storm and water causes him to lose the trail like with Rick's map, which made Daryl scream like he was at the absolute end of himself.

One other link between Beth and Amy that's worth a mention is mushrooms, yes fungi.

Lori calls Amy the mushroom queen. 👸Lori calls Amy this because she is off finding mushrooms.

How is this related to Beth?

Well, we saw mushrooms mentioned in TOWL in relation to the girl living in the museum, the same girl who hid in the grasshopper sculpture. Thorn tells Rick that her group grew mushrooms 🍄 we know the museum and grasshopper symbolism is linked to Beth.

Well, in Find Me, we see Daryl sitting next to a log with mushrooms growing on it.

Find Me and Consumed really are templates of how he will find Beth, and finding Beth aka the Morning Star (Jesus) 🌟 will make Daryl a fun guy 🥁 🥁 🤭

Happy guy = Happy ending.

2 Peter 1.19

We also have the word of the prophets as confirmed beyond doubt. And you will do well to pay attention to it, as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.

Coda

🥁🍄🌟♥️♾️♥️🌟🍄🥁

[heckinconfusedparade]

hmm...what about if Nine found Sonic X?

Nine Discovers Sonic X

Nine’s travels beyond Shatterspace has been.. eventful.

Now he’s traveling through yet another universe. Usually there’s nothing going on in space.. but today seems to be different.

A shuttle called the Blue Typhoon passes right by him, and he swears he sees a familiar blue bastard aboard that shuttle. Nine sends a communication request to the other ship. It takes a little while before anyone responds on the other end.

“Hello?” A small voice comes up on the other end.

“Is there a Sonic on board?” Nine asks, jumping straight to the point.

“Uh.. hey?” Sonic responds.

Nine grumbles “tch. Wrong Sonic.. shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.”

“Hold on, wait! Wrong Sonic?” Another voice pipes up.

Nine doesn’t respond.

Something new pops up on the radar, and it doesn’t look too friendly. It’s a large robot thing? Nine does a quick scan and confirms that besides being a threat, it also seems to be apart of a bigger issue called the Meterex. Nine isn’t all too interested with integrating himself into multiverse issues, but the robot starts heading for him.

Nine begins firing at the robot. He’s doing considerable damage, but it isn’t enough. Then before he could change gear, it explodes, heavily damaged by an object that shoots right through it.

Before the object can return to the ship, it spots Nine. Turns out that object is Sonic. He stops in his tracks, losing all of his momentum to stare at Nine in shock. Nine raises a brow at him.

“Huh??? Tails??” Sonic then realizes he isn’t going anywhere, then tries to swim his way elsewhere. Unfortunately, even in space, he can’t swim. Nine is getting tired of people calling him Tails, so he decides to just pass him.

An arm comes from the Blue Typhoon to retrieve Sonic. Sonic is too shocked to say anything more until he’s back on his ship.

“What’s wrong, Sonic? I’ve never seen you look so.. shocked?” Tails gives Sonic a concerned look.

“I just saw Tails!” Sonic says.

“…what?” Tails says.

Chris taps away on his control pad “I’m gonna try and get back into contact with his ship. Maybe he needs help if he’s looking for Sonic!”

“Good idea, Chris!” Sonic gives Chris a thumbs up.

“How do we know he’s safe?” Cream looks out the window alongside Amy. Amy goes “if he isn’t nice, then we’ll beat him outta the sky!” Followed by an excited “Chao!” from Cheese. Sonic wants to say something, but he’s still in shock.

Cosmo gazes at the ship… could there really be another Tails on that ship?

“This is the Blue Typhoon, coming in!” Chris says into the mic.

“What do you want?” Nine responds, sounding unpleased and disinterested.

Chris begins “Do you need help? Sonic is here.. are you looking for another Sonic? A blue hedgehog that’s really fast?”

Nine pauses “..another Sonic. Not yours. I don’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering us!” Chris states, “we want to he- LOOK OUT!”

Ringing.

Nine wakes up in a weird white room on a bed. He sits up and holds his sore head, groaning. What happened?

Cream comes in through the door “he’s awake!” She trots into the room followed by Cheese. She lets out a tiny shriek when Nine points one of his sharp mechanical tails at her. Cream puts her hands up “oh I’m sorry Other Mr. Tails! I didn’t mean to startle you!”

Nine slowly lowers his tail “My name isn’t Tails… though everyone seems to be calling me that as of late.” Cream gets Nine some tea “I’m sorry! What’s your name then?”

“Nine.”

“Nice to meet you Nine, my name is Cream! And this is my Chao Cheese! Cheese presents themself in all their glory.

Nine blinks “I thought.. chaos were extinct.” He reaches to touch Cheese who holds his finger. Cream frowns “well, not where I’m from they aren’t! That’s so sad!”

Cream let’s Nine recover a little bit before leading him to the cockpit where the others are waiting for him. “Cmon Mr. Nine!” She beckons, leading him by the wrist.

Tails is the first to greet him. Tails looks at him in shock “but.. but how? You look just like me?” Nine crosses his arms, unamused, “I’m from another universe, if you haven’t caught on yet.”

Then suddenly, Nine lunges at Tails, pinning him to the ground with his mechanical tails. Tails stares up in fear. Nine growls “where am I? What did you do to my ship?”

Everyone gasps. Sonic approaches “hey, what are you, KNUCKLES NO-“ Knuckles grabs Nine and throws him across the room. Tails scrambles to his feet. Cosmo immediately goes to his aid, making sure he’s ok.

Nine hits the wall and gets grabbed again by Knuckles holding him up by the shirt “who do you think you are, kid, huh?? We save you, and then you attack one of us?”

Nine struggles, then points all 7 tails at him “save me, huh? From what?”

Amy tries to intervene “there was a last piece of that Meterex minion that exploded next to your ship! We pulled you and your ship aboard. Tails and Chris took a look at it and there’s hardly any external damage. Be grateful!” Nine lowers his weapons and resorts to kicking Knuckles in the chest, causing him to let go. Knuckles can’t lie, this kids pretty tough.

Tails exhales “Where is my ship now?” Chris pulls up security footage of the hanger “Tails was working on the repairs while you were asleep.” Chris pulls up a closer image “Tails even redid the paint so it’s looking good as new!“

Tails smiles bashfully “I hope you don’t mind.. but I added some extra fire power too! Your guns were busted when you were hit.” Nine gives him a surprised look. What a nice gesture! He knows he should be mad that it was done without permission, but he just isnt!

Sonic puts his arm around Nine and gestures to Tails “don’t doubt Tails’ work, he built me a whole canon!”

Nine gasps “is that how you got into space?” Sonic nods “Yep!“

Nine makes mental notes “what an interesting use of Sonics power.. why didn’t i think about making that dope into a gun before!”

Amy saunters over to Nine “soooo~ what’s your Sonic like~?”

Nine gets a silly smirk “He’s annoying, doesn’t listen, has a terrible attention span, no concept of stealth, loves MY personal space, and got sucked into some portal thing. He also broke into my house and got us both caught by the Chaos Council. He started to talk to me like he knew me. Telling me of these memories I don’t remember. He was never in my life until now. He’s stupidly optimistic, but he sure knows how to build and lead a team. Sonic knows what he’s doing.. sometimes. When I find him I’m probably gonna punch him for leaving us again.”

The others listen in silence. Not what they expected. Sonic whistles “that was a lot of insults and compliments! Lemme tell ya kid, something tells me there’s something else going on here. If other me is anything like me, then he wouldn’t disappear without good reason.”

Cosmo hums “he is trapped in a limbo.” everyone’s attention is turned to Cosmo, “if he remembers memories that you don’t have, perhaps he came from an alternate dimension from yours, and for some reason can’t go back..”

“Yea.. that’s.. my ongoing theory.” Nine can’t help but stare at Cosmo. She’s.. so pretty. Her aura is angelic and her voice is as sweet as she is. Nine feels his cheeks heating up a bit. Then he quits looking once he notices Tails giving him a disapproving look.

He and Tails go to check out his ship. Nine gives everything a lookover and confirms that the quality has improved. Nine checks to make sure the shard is still there. He’s happy to see it’s doing fine!

Tails is more focused on the 7 mechanical tails going on. So is Knuckles who just walked in “so what’s the story behind the robot tails?” Nine turns around quickly, not expecting him to be there. Nine narrows his eyes “why do you care?” Knuckles blinks “I’m just curious? Calm down.”

Nine sighs “I was bullied relentlessly as a kid for having one extra tail. I never minded my surroundings.. and I took beatings for years. Then I finally put my brain to use and made a real way to fight back. Nobody has bothered me since.. and I don’t need anybody.”

Tails and Knuckles give each other saddened looks. “Kid, Im gonna be honest with you. As someone who’s been alone since birth, I did truly think I needed nobody for many years.. but now that I have all these guys, I’m realizing that even though I still like being on my own, it’s ok to have other people in your life. Let people in once in a while.. it’s actually a lot better than you think. There has to be others in your universe that will accept you for who you are.. you might have even found them already, I dunno.” Nine listens to Knuckles’ speech. Nine nods “.. I think I do.” he thinks back to the Rouge and Knuckles of his universe. They trusted him and he betrayed them.. they could never let him in again, but hey there’s that small sliver of chance they will.

Knuckles smiles at the fox and leaves again.

As Nines ship recharges, Nine sits looking out the big window at all the stars. Cream joins him “stars are real pretty aren’t they?” Cheese agrees! “They are.. I’ve never seen stars before.. the sky is polluted with smog and light where I’m from. The Chaos Council destroyed the green lush environment that once was.”

Sonic joins them “you keep mentioning the Chaos Council. Who’s that?” Nine responds “I talked to another universe version of you on my travels and he said it sounded like 5 Eggmans”

Sonic hates the sound of more Eggmen “you met another me?”

Nine nods “yea he’s tall and wears a bandana.”

Sonic is so happy.. at least he’s tall somewhere!

Soon, Nines ship is ready to go! He bids everyone farewell and heads off. Where will he end up next?

[trytofic]

Mermaids

I was a little late in the day posting this, but I was too busy this AM.

Anyway Mermaids was a super fun one!

Past Sonadow with child and then Amy pops in and seems to give him a bit more pep <3 Kind of a "there will always be love" regardless of whether it is one true love or finding a new one after one love is over.

Ao3

Day 12: Mermaids

She watched the sky to finally see the boat that had recently caught her attention.

The cool air his Amy’s hair, the cloud lazily moving across the sky, a wonderful sight. She knew Knuckles hated when she would freely swim up toward the top of the sea. But she loved seeing the colors of the boats and watching the clouds was prettier than the sea anemones. In fact, one of the boats nearby has caught her attention several times but, she has been nervous about getting too close. This one has a black hedgehog who always looks lonely when on the water. He never really paid attention to the fishing rod in his hands. But this day was different. There were two lines off the side of the boat and he had a small smile on his face. Curiosity got the better of her and she heard his voice for the first time. It was soothing and soft. 

“Zonic, you know you don’t have to sit there. I’ll pull your line in and you can go play.”

“But I want to know why you like it so much!”

“It’s just very relaxing. But you’re too much like your father. Staying in one place for long isn’t your thing.” He chuckled and Amy swore her heart skipped a beat.

“Are you sure, dad?”

“Of course, son.” She could barely see a smile on his muzzle, and she knew the image would forever be in her mind. She heard a thump and some laughter as the black hedgehog reeled in the fishing line. She must have been the reason why there weren’t any fish near the boat. She started to swim to the other side, and she looked up to see another small hedgehog. She assumed that’s who was also speaking. She saw blue quills and bright red eyes, much like the other hedgehog. The two looked at one another and Amy dove under the water. 

She nervously hid away, knowing no one was to have seen her. She nervously ran her fingers through her hair until she heard a splash. She turned to see the same young hedgehog slowly sinking away from the boat. Amy quickly swam to the young child and saw they were scared. As she held them to her chest, she quickly breached the water. The child coughed and gasped. She could hear the older hedgehog yelling and as she looked up, he stared at her holding the child, specifically at her webbed fingers that were around his son’s shoulders. 

“Zonic?” He held his arms out to the child and the child whipped his head towards him.

“Dad!” His small arms reached towards his father and Amy slowly swam closer to the boat and raised him to the black hedgehog. As they held onto one another his eyes peered down and Amy and she gave a small wave before quickly diving under the water again. She didn’t have the heart to be around him, knowing she was possibly a cause for the boy to fall into the water. 

But she didn’t stay away long. She found herself at the side of his boat only a few days later. She was looking him in the eyes and nervous but so excited. 

“Thank you for saving my son.” His voice is somber. “I already lost his father… if I had lost him as well…” He closed his eyes and she saw the way he held himself. Scared and worried. His son was so loved.

“I’m sorry that he fell because of me. I shouldn’t have gotten close.” She apologized. His eyes were wide, and he walked closer to the edge. “My curiosity got the better of me.”

“You…” She expected to see anger in his eyes but all she saw was concern. He was such a kind soul. “My name is Shadow.” He held out his hand to her and she gently put hers in his. “If you ever have any questions or just want to speak with someone, don’t hesitate.” He gave her the kindest smile and she could hear the heat on her face. She wished she could simply jump on the boat and hold him, but her tail felt a yank and she knew she had to leave. She was being warned that her brother was nearing. 

“My name is Amy, please take care of yourself and your son.” She gave him the sweetest smile she could muster and let go of his hand, quickly diving back under the water. 

Shadow stood on his boat mourning the loss of her warm hand. He thought the pink flashes were just the red snapper fish that were common in the area, but to know it had been her. He had been searching for something so beautiful, only to realize she had been watching him. His heart felt tight as he realized this feeling of affection that he had only ever felt about his late husband. He shook his head, knowing she was a stranger and probably would never be with him due to their differences, yet it didn’t stop him from hoping to see her once again.

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

The first Christmas “without,” Pt. 2

Happy Candlemas! Here’s Part 2, and remember, you can still technically say Merry Christmas until 11:59/23:59 tonight

When - Part 1 was 35ish minutes after A fu---n’ great Christmas, which takes place in between season 2 and 3. Part 2 is approximately 3 minutes after Part 1 ends. We’ve made a brief time skip from souls stripped bare.

What - the first major holiday without loved ones is hard. The first major holiday without loved ones because one of your loved ones was killed by another loved one is somewhat harder. (for those who are newer Slowpokes, Shane was your older brother)

**Note that some plot points haven’t actually been published yet, they are  merely discussed or alluded to because the series is non linear**  

Relationships - slow burn Daryl x Reader always, therefore you’re still snuggled in the mangy hick’s poncho and wishing your crush away, but this chapter was focused more on the found-family aspect of the series. Part 2 specifically deals with your familial relationship with Rick -- and how much hurt and anger you’re still working through after what happened with Shane.

Perspective - 2nd person You, 3rd Him (Daryl)

Pronouns? - they/them

TWs? - some foul language, memories about the farm getting overrun (without gore), anger over a family member being killed by another family member, discussion of grieving, and more of my dumb using-dreams-to-relay-past-events as found in That mangy hick!

Word count - longer than Part 1, but if you read both together, do set aside some downtime and get comfy and snuggly in something cozy. Dare I say, in a poncho, perhaps?

What stories to read or reread - “All of them!” the author cackles Part 1, of course, A fu--in’ great Christmas, The Chicken Swim, Too much thinking before bed, Part 2 and Ain’t nothing... are the ones most pertinent to this chapter.

Check out the  Masterlist, slowpoke, it’s got all the published chapters and reader requests :)

.........................

3 minutes later, after discussing a possible chicken swim/penguin plunge with Glenn before you left him to the music and walked back alone slowly

Okay, maybe remembering your chicken swim with Amy, when Shane so diligently stood watch from the shore with a canoe at the ready (and Daryl saw you swim in a t-shirt, shorts, and socks), maybe remembering that put you back at square one, because before you know it, the pendant is in your hands again.

You just feel so off.

T-Dog and Carol are sitting at the fire outside now. Aw, T-Dog took off his Santa hat. He’s still in the red Dawgs shirt Daryl gave him, though.

As you rub the ‘22’ between your fingers and over your lips, you greet the two of them with a (yawn and a) “Hey y’all, how’s the turkey going?”  

Carol waves her fingers and smiles.

Ooh yummy, what are they making? They seem to be mixing…you aren’t sure what in the bowl, but it’s mushy. Boiled and mashed tubers, maybe? If so, that’s good, Carol has been craving starch like it’s nobody’s business.

“Hershel’s almost done with his tea, then he’ll use that meter thingy,” she lets you know, right before T-Dog teases, “Glenn’s and your bickering about him again was a fun surprise.”

He gets a mildly British-sounding response out of you. “Yes, we had a lovely time.”

“Who won this round?” he chuckles. “I asked Glenn already, but wanna to compare your answers.”  

“Neither of us.” Well, come to think of it, “Mr. Greene.”

“Ha! See that, Carol? Same answer, I gotta tell Hersh about this, just a sec.”

While he pokes his head into the little building and announces his findings, you sigh at Carol. That’s when you notice that there’s…no turkey in sight. Which is a little concerning, where’d it go?  

Oh no, it wasn’t all wormy, right?

You stare into space as you rub, rub, rub the pendant. Well, the smaller cooler is kinda sitting on the ground in the middle of everything, so you use that as your chair.

“The meat’s brining in there, if you’re wondering,” Carol explains.  

Ah, got it. Phew.

She yawns as she goes into it a little more. “We don’t want a repeat of that wild turkey we had what, about a month ago at this point? Oh my—at Thanksgiving. Golly, I forgot about Thanksgiving,” she mumbles to herself.

“There was no fat on the poor, sad thing. Nasty,” T-Dog narrates, catching her yawn on his way back with a dishtowel, and covering the bowl of mushy stuff with it. “Though, we did a fair job on it, gotta say.”

You nod. You’d actually really enjoyed it, but maybe that’s because you were really hungry? Ah, and you’ve caught the yawn, now. Yawns really are contagious.

Carol and him keep chatting. “Mmhm, very little fat, and that was a month ago. Having one now, this late in the season—”

“—Could be even more nasty, we gotta be extra careful,” T-Dog finishes for her. “Y’all caught a big boy, though,” he says to you, “this guy was plump. I have a good feelin’ about him.”

Nodding away, Carol starts talking about how “My great aunts and my meemaw knew how to cook it well. When I was a girl, that’s what we ate at Thanksgiving and Easter.”

“Thank the Lord I was a city boy,” he announces, cracking up. “We had good stuff like glazed ham, mm, I didn’t have to eat none of that wild, gamey turkey.”

“They’d make four different types of gravy to go with our wild turkey.”

“Four? You’re gonna make my stomach growl even louder, now, Carol. Y/N, the woman is trying to torture me, I know it.” T-Dog is even more adorable when he’s crushing on someone, hot damn. He’s a tad too old for you personally, but everybody here knows you think he’s a catch. Probably even him, if you’re being frank. “My uncle, he had this recipe for cornmeal gravy—outta this world. You and I should have a gravy-off, get some heft back on our people’s bones.”  

She tilts her head in consideration but looks hesitant before asking, “Should I try and send the six of you out on a supply run for some grease and flour?”

You’d be down. “I’d be down.” If anything but to stop Carl, Beth, and Lori from losing any more weight. Oh Moses, wait up —“If we find cornmeal, is there a way to make hushpuppies?”

“Find more oil, I’ll try,” Carol is quick to offer, yawning again. “Are you gonna head to the cars for a nap? I know I’m going to once the cooki—um, what’s in the bowl, once these are done.”

T-Dog just snickers. “Same, we all need more sleep after last night. So, Y/N,” he turns to you, “everytime we talk about food, it’s the hushpuppies, gummy sharks, that puffcorn stuff, or applesauce for you. Or Indian food. Or bananas. Oh right, or peanut butter tomato sandwiches.”

Carol groaned with you when he said the last one; you’re both fans of those and you’re both belly-aching for some food.

“I crave what I crave, Teddy.”

“Plus catfish nuggets, am I wrong?” he guffaws (yes, ‘guffaws’).

“…To go with the hushies.”

“And cheesy curls, can’t forget. Oh, and corn dogs—you got a corn thing, don’t you?”

Which is entirely true, but you’d also go for a plain, grilled hot dog, oh my gosh. “Been hungry, Breakfast King,” you snark back.

He cracks up and holds his hands open. “I earned that title. I made the best eggs y’all ever had that day, powdered or otherwise, admit it. The grits were creamy and lush, go on. Whoever stocked the CDC knew to get clarified butter down there, made all the difference.” He puffs out his chest slightly. “But I coulda swung it outta the park even without.”

You share a nod with Carol as your fingers grasp the pendant again. “It was best breakfast I’d ever eaten.” All true. Objectively, food-wise.

After about two months with no cheese or much food-food, given the supply chain issues due to the world effectively collapsing, the spread T-Dog made for breakfast at the CDC was heavenly. Would’ve been really good even during the before-times. How he got those powdered eggs to taste so fresh, you don’t know.

Those not so good memories, however, are really poking a stick in the gears, though. You can faintly hear the tink, tink, tink of your chain as you pull the pendant back and forth, back and forth. An uneasy, sick feeling twists in your belly when you remember it.

It was a barely two hours after breakfast when you’d all nearly died and Jacqui and Dr. Jenner committed suicide. Then about two months later, you’d finally learned why Shane had broken down wailing and Lori had looked shell shocked and scared the night before.  

Shane wasn’t really one to get drunk, yet he had that night. He was going a little crazy, you guess, and things had been, um…

Your brother wasn’t a bad person, he wasn’t. He just lost himself and thought he couldn’t come back.

But when Shane spilled to you that awful night at Hershel’s farm what he’d started blindly trying to do to Lori at the CDC, your first reaction came from deep within. You didn’t see a man you recognized, and you thought you hated the man you did see. You may have actually hated Shane for a short while. Almost as much as you hated Rick when you knew for certain that he’d killed him.

“Careful not to break the chain,” Carol gently murmurs, perking you out of it.

Shoot, you’d been doing the tuggy pully thing again. Sometimes, when you start thinking about what happened, you end up squeezing and rubbing Shane’s ‘22’ pendant too hard when you tug and pull it back and forth.

Okay yeah, you’re falling hard back into that intense anger about what happened, it’s not good. You cannot sink back down into that unhappy, unhealthy place.

And you really don’t want to break the chain, so: you ignore your growing frustration that you can’t just get over it already, then imagine a stupid tea kettle being taken off the stupid burner before thinking your stupid mantra again.

…I don’t hate Rick…I don’t hate Rick, I love him, I love my Rick, Rick is my brother…you love him, Y/N, you don’t hate him…you don’t hate Shane, either…now take the kettle off the burner…you don’t hate either of them…you don’t hate Rick…it’s okay if you want to cry, just remember that you don’t hate Rick, you love Rick…

“Hey guys,” Glenn calls over, further helping you snap back to reality. Maggie’s hand in his, he returns the music player and thanks you. “Gonna crash for a little while in the Chevy, I think.”  

With a slow exhale, you bring yourself back to whatever the heck was going on before this, something to do with food, right?

Right, yeah, breakfast at the CDC.  

It’s true, T-Dog had indeed made bananas-good food the morning at the CDC. And that was with a total lack of (actual bananas, and) potatoes, sausage (therefore gravy), fresh cheese, you could go on for a while.

“Man, the things I’d do for some eggs,” you hear him groan. You turn to see him quickly look away from you.

Ah, you’d though the delivery sounded a touch too emphatic; T-Dog was putting on extra in trying to revert your attention back to lighthearted stuff. Guess your internal mantra-break was noticeable. Also, that darn tuggy pully thing.

Whatever, he’s distracting you with all his food talk because he cares. “Scrambled eggs,” he details, “with sautéed onions and pimento cheese, and bacon or chorizo, obviously. Buttered marble rye, fluffy biscuits with some white gravy. Hashbrowns…”

You peek over at Carol. Her cravings are usually for potatoes, overcooked macaroni salad, or anything from Waffle House. The woman just wants some starch and to not have to cook, dude.

Last night, that 16oz can of potatoes she’d used with Christmas Eve dinner had been *heaven* for her. The sharing of it, however, that part was more like ‘purgatory,’ so she joked in the car late last night after you’d all escaped the herd.  

She looks wistful for a moment, then says to T-Dog, “Other than you and Rick, everyone here knows what leaves and stalks to look for. We’re bound to come across some potato plants in a backyard garden one of these days.”

“And I will make you hashbrowns to die for.”

Carol cringes in her shy, polite way. He’d chosen the wrong descriptive verb choice. “Maybe not that good, T-Dog.”

“Aw man, uh, hashbrowns to ‘cry over,’” he rephrases it. “Hold up — we could do a hashbrown bowl like at Waffle House!”

Now she’s got on her shy, dainty smile. “Perfect.”

T-Dog then turns his gaze over to you. “Now, Y/N, Rick’s coming back with Daryl.”  

Ugh, please not now, Teddy.  

You know what he’s gonna suggest, and you don’t want to. You did your mantra thing, that’s plenty.  

I don’t hate Rick, I don’t hate Rick, I don’t hate Rick, I love Rick…  

“Go over there and remind yourself you don’t hate him,” he directs.

Which you deflect with a lame, “Daryl don’t prefer hugs.”

Which in turn, earns you a look. “You know who I mean,” T-Dog tuts. “Hug your brother — and don’t go telling me he ain’t your real brother, I know full well you was raised not caring about that stuff and that it don’t matter these days anyhow. Now go on, go hug him, or something.” He sighs and gestures to you. It’s much less stern when he next says, “I think the holiday is starting to get to you. And you’ve got somethin’ particular going on.”

Yeah, yeah, the first holiday ‘without,’ you get it. ��

But apparently you must have huffed out loud, because T-Dog next hums nuh-uh and cautions, “Don’t you go getting huffy at me, now, troublemaker.”

“We had Thanksgiving, that was a major holiday.”

“Wasn’t the same, you were completely focused on Hershel then.”

Okay, fair, but, “Okay fair, but we’re all having the first Christmas w-with-wi—” it takes you a few times with your fucking stress stutter, “—without a bunch of loved ones, I ain’t special.”  

Sure, Glenn got a little testy and had a good cry, but he’s still chill. Carol’s not acting like a baby about her first Christmas without her daughter, and T-Dog himself isn’t acting like a baby about having no one he knew before the outbreaks.

So why is he acting like you’ve got something ‘particular going on’ today? Are you that fragile? You were having a (fuckin’) great Christmas, Daryl even said it!

Yet, as vulnerable and therefore mad about it as you feel, you can’t stay upset.  

Not after the way Teddy so plainly but delicately points out, “Our situations are different.”

It stops you in your tracks and makes fact that he was once an intimidating defensive back and occasional running back for the Bulldogs seem unbelievable. You also begin to feel less…ashamed, that you’re still so fucking broken after what happened. The situation with Shane is different.

…I don’t hate Rick, I don’t hate Rick, I don’t hate Shane, I love them both, please help me remember that I’m just angry again right now, I don’t really hate Rick, I love him so much…

You’re back to fiddling with the ‘22’ pendant, but it’s cool, you aren’t tugging on the chain this time.

“Go on, or I’ll make you two wear a get-along shirt,” Carol prompts. “Oh, and don’t mention the cookie batter, T-Dog, Beth and I want to keep it a surprise.”

“The what, now?” ......................

Him

Y/N is walking over.

That they’re wearing the hat he gave them made him wanna stand taller, and that they’re still in his poncho made him feel warm. It was a warmth unrelated to the fact that they’d switched coats earlier today.

Weird thing is, Y/N seemed cozier in his poncho underneath their zip-up hoodie than they’d seemed in their own oversized, old, woolly, fluff-lined jacket. It didn’t make much sense to him, but his poncho was pretty sweet and it reached longer down Y/N’s body, which would keep their butt warm and all that.  

Y/N’s coat is nice. Old, but that made it better. Except, when Rick saw him wearing the coat, he’d frozen like he’d seen a ghost then got this glazed kinda look in his eyes.

Seeing the jacket on somebody who filled it out properly was prolly what done it. It, um, originally it had been Y/N and Shane’s dad’s jacket. After their dad died, maybe 16ish years ago, their ma would wear it around to remember him, then Shane started wearing it as his coat. So really, it was Shane’s for all those years.

Yeah, the coat has some baggage. Comfy though.

“It’s a good jacket,” was all Rick said before he blinked a few times and lead him on a short walk to discuss the food and security brief he had with T-Dog, Glenn, and Maggie earlier. He and Y/N missed the info when they were hunting that turkey.

Maybe it helped Rick zen out about food a little when Daryl ripped up some cattail tubers they passed. Carol really misses potatoes, and those roots are real starchy, so it’ll be close enough. It was one of the first things that crossed his mind when they got here last night and he saw the small lake.

“What roots are those?” Y/N calls to him, pointing.

Hey—what happened? Y/N looks like the wind got knocked out of them, they don’t look cheerful and happy at all. He’d only been with them around the fire like an hour ago, things were fine.

Is Hershel good? Did Y/N fight with Glenn agai—oh, never mind, got it; Shane’s chain is sticking out of their hoodie. They fidget with it more when they’re upset, usually when thinking about their dead brother and shit.

They’ve been doing pretty okay, so, dunno, maybe it’s just the holiday getting to them.

“Cattail,” he lets them know.

That nice feeling tickles his chest again when, with their mouth opens in recognition and a much happier look spreads on their face. They point at the tubers. “That’s the one we can use like a potato, then?”

He just smiles and nods; they’re on the same wavelength as him on this one, point proven when they look back at the fire for a sec before grinning and resting their hands on their hips. “Teddy said he’d make her hashbrowns, and we got enough oil and salt for those, some leftover flour if need be.” Their gaze switches to Rick. “Are there any other ingredients we’ll need for hashbrowns?”

Were they uncomfortable when they asked him that, or was that just his imagination?  

Also, why would they ask Rick? Everybody knows how to make a hashbrown, it’s a cut-up potato fried in a pan.

“Lore sometimes made them on Pancake Sundays,” Rick offered.

That’s gotta be an inside joke because next, them and Rick start to crack up.  

Scrunching their nose, Y/N giggles (and seems genuine about it). “Ain’t her fault her grandma had two terrible pancake recipes.”

“She didn’t have to follow the recipes every Sunday.”

“Especially buckwheat ones, oh, they were like dry little penances, Daryl,” Y/N fills him in, “he’s not full-wrong.” Turning back to Rick, they seem uncomfortable again when they say, “I’m gonna go crash for a bit before choring, but um, let’s listen to music together soon. It’ll be nice to do it at the lakeside.” An awkward kind of pause follows, then they go, “Hey, um, I never had hashbrowns at your place, were they, um, were they, w-were they good?”

“I mean, compared to the pancakes…” Rick trails off. He looks uncomfortable, too, but he’s trying to keep the joke going.

But Y/N must not like all the teasing about Lori’s cooking or whatever, because they stop looking as amused when they slowly repeat “Ricky, were they good?”

It looks like his head is getting heavy to hold up, the way it’s drooping some. He gives Y/N a sad kind of smile, the way people do when they’re apologizing. “Carl, Lore and I would eat the whole plate.”

.......................

You

Fine, maybe T-Dog is right. The day is getting to you maybe just possibly a pinch.

As you stomp over to the cars, you look back at T-Dog at the fireside and hold up a thumb with one hand and lift the other open-palmed to ask him if he was satisfied or not.

He makes no gesture back at first, then makes a shrug and holds his thumb up.  

Whatever. You throw open the door to the backseat of the Dodge, hop in, position the bright blue scarf into the door and yank it shut to show that you’re in there, then tuck yourself into the blanket and burrow into your pillow.

You love your stupid brother (yes, the one named Rick) so much, and-and things have been fine!  

Of course it would be on Christmas that you’d be acting like a little idiot bitch…but making fun of a spouse’s cooking isn’t your brand of humor, either, that was kind of a dick move from the dicktator.

Ricky-dicky doo, Ricky-pricky poo, Rickety-doo-dah…

Oh, right, um—when the bad things happened, you’d gone full postal, blindly wandered away, and got drunk for the first time. You’d started chanting something along those lines, then you’d made new lyrics to that ancient Disney song. Ridiculous and immature? Yes, but you were in a truly bad place.

Though, you are secretly proud of one insult you’d made after your world had gone blank: “Three cheers for Rick, putting the ‘dick’ in dictator!”

By God above, you’d thought that you’d hated him so much.

Well, really it’s only T-Dog who’s of the mind that you didn’t actually hate him; you know that you did.  

You have to adjust the pillow and flip to your back instead of your side. With the heel of your boot you then tap the lock shut for some ensured privacy, in case they don’t notice the bright blue warning scarf.

Hershel and Lori get it. Hershel simply reminds you about “mercy,” reminds you that you don’t hate Rick anymore, and will say a prayer. Lori encourages you to spend time together with him or more time with Carl.

You wish Dale were still here, and remember that you need to wind his watch and pray the “kad-ish” for him today. Dale would know what to say and do, could teach you how to get a grip. Heck, maybe the fact that he’d just died back when it all happened had been a catalyst for how deep you’d dived.

It had been so bad at first. Your hatred and all that dark stuff had been so thorough and you’d felt so completely empty and lost that you’d…

…you’d left the group.

You’d left your Carl. It was that fucking complete.

That bad, bad night, you’d attacked Rick, insulted him, threatened him. The others had to take your weapons away, they’d also had to restrain you, a lot. Something in you just fucking snapped when you knew what Rick did to your brother. To his own brother.  

And you’d been hoping he’d off you, too, but he didn’t. Didn’t pull his gun or his knife, even with your encouragements.

Then you accidentally broke him. That’s the term you think best describes what he looked like. It was like a short-circuit.

All it took was three words, “So was he.”

He’d been trying to tell you that he was still your brother, he still loved you. Each response you made to him was simple enough, but each somehow acted like a tranq dart.  

Maybe it’s because you’re so tired, but you can call to mind so vividly how words couldn’t seem to formulate in your head when you managed to utter “So was he.” Then the way your breathing had sped up and your voice started shaking and getting louder when you pushed back more against what he was saying with “So did he,” and how quickly it was followed by your stuttered, “Oh Ricky, s-so did I. I loved you so much...”  

And the final phrase, basic as it was, it wasn’t screamed or cursed, the “I hate you.” Those words stunned you when you thought them, they confounded you as you spoke them.  

Okay, pump the brakes a sec. Did you just think the word “confounded” to describe how you’d felt?  

Are you writing an English essay? Lol, take a breather, dude. You need to stop thinking about that night and get some rest, you’ll feel much better. “Confounded.” At least you’re smiling in embarrassment now.

Time to relax. You tighten all the muscles you can think of, then relax them. Tighten all your muscles, slowly, slowly, then relax. Tighten, relax.

You pray for strength and all that stuff while trying to picture happy things. Like when those two bunnies scurried past Daryl and you on a hunt and he didn’t notice them. When Carl woke up after his surgery. When Amy and you did the chicken swim. When Shane — no, no, this isn’t a happy memory, shit, no, this is when you saw who what was once Shane stand up — you can’t seem to shift away from the memory!

You didn’t know what was wrong at first. You’d seen Shane’s expression and assumed he’d gotten sacked in the jaw. Then you saw the color of his eyes. Even from the distance, it was plain as day that they weren’t his dark brown ones. They were those strange, terrible, light milky blue ones.

He’d turned.

To call out to Rick so that he could defend himself didn’t compute at the time; you’d forgotten about breathing never mind shouting. You simply stared as Shane your brother’s body reached and prowled toward Rick as you clung to Carl’s shirt so he wouldn’t leave your sight.

In your side vision, you noticed your nephew drawing his gun, and thankfully there was enough rattling around in your brain that you knew to unclasp your hand from the death grip you’d had on his shirt so you could guide and steady his aim. That way it would be less likely for Rick to accidentally get injured when Carl and you put down your brother’s body.  

The memory of the loud pop of the handgun and the slight recoil makes your hands twitch — oh, thank God! You’re staring at the car’s ceiling.

You’re awake, it was just a dream. Explains why it all got so vivid, ugh, thank God.

Okay, happy thoughts, happy thoughts, good memories…

Holding your newborn niece for the first time while your brother-in-law cradled your middle sister in his arms. Mama squeaking when the new chicks hatched because they were so small and sweet. That time Shane and you were given all of the leftover catfish and hushpuppies free of charge from your local spot at 11:08pm because you’d both had very bad days.  

Shane...

The scene changes. You’re not in his Jeep outside the catfish joint anymore, you’re looking at his corpse. Ugh, that revolting word. ‘Corpse.’

You’re staring at the stab wound. You didn’t recognize it as such back then, what would you know about differentiating that stuff? You figured it was a clean bite or whatever the fuck — you don’t know, you’d been numb. You’d been confused. The things that Shane had been saying earlier that night, they didn’t make sense. And you’d heard raised voices before you (and Carl) had found your brother’s corpse rising up and making for Rick.  

Little doubts and red flags and warnings had started to gather to whiz around your head like flies on roadkill as you stared at the wound and his body, it was a disgusting mess in your mind.

Then, the only word that really stuck out in it was the word ‘shovels.’

Shovels were what you needed. To bury the dead, that’s what was needed.

Carl, you, and that murderer your brother? Rick were trudging back to the farm. You’d needed to find the shovels to bury Shane and you’d needed to get Carl back to his mama.

Except, then the herd came shuffling across the fields and slowly mowed through the livestock fencing.  

You know you’re asleep, but you can’t really wake up right now. But, the walkers in the distance quickly disappear in your mind’s eye because you smell...smoke?

The barn is on fire. The barn, there’s smoke coming from the barn, the barn is on fire!

Rick.

Rick had lit the damned barn on fire with him and Carl still in there after you’d sprinted back to the house to get the RV. The plan was you, as in you personally, would risk it and run and get them down from the hayloft by driving the RV. You were faster, and Rick was the better shot, so he’d stay with Carl and keep him alive, you’d sprint to get the RV. There was nothing about a goddamn fire, but Rick had the bright (no, pun not fucking intended) idea to set one.

So, Jimmy ended up driving, you were the spotter — shit.

Jimmy. That poor boy, that poor, sweet boy got rushed so goddamned fast, th-they just came plowing through the door when it should’ve been you! And there was no saving him, they’d gotten his neck first before ripping into the rest of him.

All you’d been able to do for that selfless, brave kid was stop his pain with a bul — WHOA, what the fu — okay, okay, you’re awake again! 

You’re awake. Your heartbeat is trying to outrun itself, but you’re okay, you’re awake. You’d fallen asleep again, oh man...

Deep breaths, it was just a dream. Just another memory.

Your foot, it, um, it kicked the door when you jolted awake. The memory of pulling the trigger caused you to dream up a super loud pop in your ears and a realistic thud in your chest.  

Objectively, it’s kinda cool how the brain can do that, but it’s really unpleasant when you are trying to rest and not break down or boil over on a major holiday.

You know what? You shouldn’t have been sleeping on your back, silly Y/N, it’s easier to get nightmares and sleep paralysis and stuff on one’s back.  

New tactic: you’ll listen to songs that help you cry.

That’ll make you feel worse initially, but then much better! Glenn did it, he’s probably fine. You’ll let all the anger and hurt come up and flow out and away.

You shimmy the mp3 player from your pocket and queue up the remastered Mona Lisa, the song from The OC that played when Ryan’s mom left, then Dare You to Move and It's So Hard To Say Goodbye To Yesterday (yes, you’re an embarrassment), then that opera one that your mama first heard in the romantic Italian movie about the Holocaust, and some sad Johnny Cash music from his older years. You’re not brave enough yet to listen to Going to California to calm down and feel better. Haven’t been since Shane was killed. Your dad had loved the song way too much for some reason, so your family loved it. Shane listened to it way too often.

There you go about Shane again, jeez. But it’s cool, it’s cool — let it all come up and flow out.  

You turn to your side facing the seat and try falling asleep again, curled like a roll-up bug while the music softly plays.

It’s good that your stuff was shoved into the Dodge during the mad rush last night, because the Chevy was the truck you’d driven away in, that night escaping from the Greene’s farm. You wouldn’t want to be in that truck right now, it’s hard enough trying to not obsess over that night.

Maybe if you remember the good parts of that night? Rick had busted through that skylight thing in the RV the night the farm was overrun, after what you’d had to do for Jimmy.  

Rick had busted through it, hopped down and got you out of there. He saved you.

Once out of there, you’d glued yourself to Carl’s side, rescued Hershel, then all clambered into the red Chevy and floored it.  

Come morning, the survivors all found each other at the highway.

Felt like a miracle; you still had a family, still had people.

Hell, you still had all your stuff; it was packed in the Hyundai that Glenn and Maggie got away in because you and Shane were supposed to...

...you were supposed to leave for a while, let things blow over. Help Shane come back to himself, remember his goodness. No one was past redemption.

…I love Rick, I love Shane, I love Rick, I don’t hate Rick, I don’t hate him, I love him, I love Rick, I love Shane…

Jimmy and Shane you already knew were gone, when the group found each other. It was bad enough letting Beth and Hershel know about him, but least you didn’t have to tell Jimmy’s mother what happened and how you couldn’t save her child. You see, Patricia didn’t make it, either.  

Neither did Andrea, which — okay, you still can’t shake the notion that you’d seen her after she was supposed to have gotten killed. Maybe their time references were mixed up, but, it looked just like her and it hadn’t been moving like a walker, neither.

But, again, the memory situation is strange, you suppose. Clear as plastic wrap, yet messy, sort of like when the plastic wrap clings to itself.  

The next afternoon, when Rick had walked off after telling all of you that you were infected, you hadn’t known that he admitted to Lori what he did to Shane right then and there.  

Because, no, you’d immediately taken responsibility and done what needed doing, just like your brother would have, which was rounding up a group to get water, firewood, and something to eat.

You need water, warmth, food and wits to survive, so you desperately clung to whatever wits you still had and tried to ensure that there’d be water, warmth, and food.

As for that strange, cruel, awful, messy whispering you’d had in your head since the night before, that Rick somehow killed Shane? Because of the shouts and screams you’d heard, how Rick (and Shane’s body) looked like they’d been fighting, that Rick had blood all over his hand, how Shane’s wound looked so neat and clean compared to other bites, because of the strange things Shane was saying the last time you saw him?

Well, you’d shoved all that down and away and shamed yourself for thinking it because it was impossible. 

It was your wits running away from you, not anything that could have been true. They were brothers. They were your brothers, and you had a damned job to do — doing something to keep who was still alive living, so to hell with all those awful red flags and questions in your head. Those questions were unfounded and stupid and wrong and impossible.

Which means, when Rick had that little outburst around the fire later that night…

Turns out, Shane had trained you very well how to fight. And how to fight multiple people off, including those who were bigger than you. It was quite the show, you imagine.

You still ended up restrained (you were too outnumbered) and thank God for it.

It was as if you’d turned into a rabid animal, you—you scared your Carl even more than he was already scared of his father, frightened Lori who was already frightened of her husband. Hell, you low-key terrified everybody, yourself included. All you saw was red, it was similar to that time you’d tried to beat up Ed Peletier, but amplified to eleven.

And yeah, you’d even left them that night. Your family.  

A knot forms in your stomach when you acknowledge it, so you curl up tighter. That you’re crying harder now is good, soon you’ll have it all out.

Here you are still, with your family, and again, thank God for it. Your rage lessened, you’re healing bit by bit. Rick’s darkness lessened, he’s healing bit by bit.  

Things got okay, and fairly fast, too.

You love him, you know that.

He loves you, you know that.

And as much as you can tell it rips him up inside even more, it doesn’t change the fact that it’s still easy for anger and hurt and even something like hatred to cloud you sometimes.

Anyways, T-Dog was right, maybe you’re having some trouble because it’s the first Christmas “without.”

…………………………..

> Spend time and remember you love Rick in the next chapter here <

> Masterlist link here <

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[bo-bo-bean]

Memory Cluster

It hurt.

That’s all Flippy could describe at that moment. He remembered cheering on his neighbor and best friend in a swimming race. He was destined to be the loudest to cheer when he won.

He did find it weird his legs were red, but maybe it was his swimming suit.

Waving the flag, he give his biggest smile to Lumpy. Lumpy put his goggles on and then a gunshot was heard. He remembered it well for some reason. It sounded so familiar, as if he heard it just earlier that day. Then… it went dark.

He didn’t know how long he would have seen the pitch black in his vision, but something happened unfortunate occurred.

A pain so indescribable through his stomach. Something burst from his back and all the way out his belly. His nerves were telling him over and over on how much pain he was in. He assumed it was a pole or something, given that what went through him was thick, cold and hard to the touch. His intestines started to rummage inside him as his body fought back nausea with great intensity.

Was he moving? He could feel some of his insides start to slip out through his back as the blood was beginning to pool through his fingers, down his arms and sleeves, up across his chest, surrounding his neck like a scarf, down his legs, between his toes. Blood everywhere… The metallic smell of it made his now destroyed stomach churn.

Before long, he felt his body shoot down the pole like object, his intestines clinging to it and being forced out. His body became lighter, more chill, more numb… then the true darkness settled in. Finally the pain was gone, but he wished he knew what happened. Or he would… if he wasn’t dead.

“Flippy!”

Something shook his body with a worried pace. Another person seemingly grabbed his ear and shouted in it.

“Flippy, ami!”

He gasped, his eyes opening. On instinct, he put his hands over his stomach but… it was just his fur and flesh. No guts, no foreign object, no pain.

“... what…?” he wheezed. His fur was riddled with sweat, skin clammy and cold, hands shaking. Was he in the hospital? How? How could he survive such a horrible feeling? Eyes darting around, he took in his surroundings slowly. A tent, it seemingly filled with other people in war uniforms in beds all around him. They had no limbs or missing facial features, some having a bloodied blanket covering them. It all seemed… familiar.

The smell was full of death and dirt, the sound of gun shots and screams being heard. Usually, he would lose himself and most of his senses at the sound, but there was no reaction. There was however a response to his death he encountered that he felt he was part of. Even if he was alive and seemingly well, there was still a lingering sensation tugging at his insides.

Pushing someone aside, he fell to the ground, coughing three times before he puked all over the dirt and grass. He felt someone rub his back.

“Get it all out…” they said softly.

His neck felt strained as he took those orders, coughing until he vomited more. Once there was nothing left in his system, he sputtered and panted, trying to get in some air. The person who patted his back stopped and he saw a weathered canteen in front of his vision. Greedily, he took it, poured some water in his mouth, sloshed it around and spat it out before going in for a sip to swallow.

“Are you okay?” a second voice asked. They were the same voice who shouted in his ear.

“Y-yeah,” he nodded, staying on his hands and knees. “I think so…”

“Jesus, you had us scared…”

They both helped him up, Flippy now looking up to see who assisted him. However… he instantly felt as if he would puke again, scream, and faint all in that order. Seeing this, the two put him back on the bed. “You’re pale as pearls…! Don’t you remember us?”

“Monsieur, you look as if you see a ghost…”

“It’s us… Sneaky and Mouse KaBoom.”

He couldn’t believe his ears. His eyes, they can trick him, but his own ears? They wouldn’t lie to him. They’ve been trained to hear the smallest of noises. Now he knew they were both telling the truth.

“... no,” he shook his head. “No… it cant’ be… it… can’t…”

The chameleon started to look worried, taking the seat next to him.

“Heh, you must’ve hit your head really hard.”

“Are you having more nausea?” Mouse asked, noticing Flippy clutching his stomach.

“Y-yeah let’s not entice it,” Sneaky offered, taking his hand gently. He put Flippy’s hand to his side. “You okay?”

He wanted to pass out. Wake up and be back to… wherever he was. Where was he before? He only knew where he is now; he was back in the war. Back before the operation that changed his life forever, that caused so many blackouts, waking up to massacres. That’s ALL he remembered; the blood and organs flying on blacktops and parking lots as if they were only graffiti. Him showering with a widened drain to clean off the bits of brain, watching the water at his feet turn red. But all of those visions seem to fade more and more until he could barely even think of the faces, if they had any.

Noticing their reaction to his silence, he took a deep breath in to get his heart beating again. Should he tell them? Or was it a bad dream? A horrifying, terrible, awful bad dream. No, a dream shouldn’t last that long and have faces that came again and again.

“How long was I out?” he decided to inquire.

“Just an hour,” Sneaky answered. “You ran into a snare trap and smacked your head on a tree.”

“There’s a bump right here,” Mouse told him, touching a spot on the back of his head. He winced at it being touched, then he heard a smack.

“Don’t touch it!” Sneaky chastised.

“It can’t just be an hour…” he whimpered. “That was so much longer than an hour… It had to be a coma…! Or an awful memory, but… it’s impossible because you’re right here… That… you are here. You’re right next to me, not… what happened…?”

“You’re… not making any sense,” Mouse hesitantly stated the obvious.

“Had a bad dream?” Sneaky wondered.

“Heh, I remember having those… aaahh mémoires…”

“I don’t even know if I can even call it a bad dream,” he shook his head. “It’s more like a nightmare of… something. I just remember-”

“Sneaky! Mouse KaBoom!” a voice boomed. The tent flap opened, revealing a rhino commander. He walked in, Sneaky and Mouse standing up and saluting.

“Sir!” they both greeted.

“How’s Private Flippy?”

“Private…?” The rank brought fear for some reason. Something about that word made his blood run cold, but what could it be?

“I think he’s having some memory issues, sir,” Mouse explained. “He woke up, puked and when he heard our names, he turned pale.”

“He was also clutching his stomach an awful lot.”

The rhino nodded. “At ease,” he commanded. They took their seats next to each side of the bear as he bent down in front of Flippy. “What is your name?”

“P… private… Flippy,” he answered. He glanced over to his shoulders, seeing one arrow, not three. … why would he expect three? He wasn’t a commander, was he?

“Where are you?”

Flippy was stuck on that one. He glanced around, seeing the beds, a shelf of medical supplies, medics rushing back and forth, carrying various tools or limbs.

“I think a medical tent.”

“You ARE in a medical tent,” he nodded. “Who are these two by you?”

“Sneaky and… Mouse KaBoom,” he looked at the two on either side.

“Good. And what war are we in?”

“War…?” his eyes widened in shock. Why was that so disturbing? Why did he feel absolute fear? Was he new? No… if he was new, he wouldn’t be a private, but a rookie. That meant he passed training.

“Yes,” he slowly said. “You’re in a war; the Tree Town Battle. Jesus, you weren’t kidding when you said he became pale.” He felt his forehead. “... well you’re cold. I suggest you have bed rest until tomorrow, I’ll ask you the same questions again. Sneaky, get some extra rations and water. Mouse, keep an eye on him.”

“Yes, sir,” they answered in unison.

Sneaky and the rhino went out as Mouse propped up Flippy’s legs on the cot.

“Aaand… there. You… look pretty terrible,” he chuckled. When he didn’t laugh back, he frowned and hopped up on the end. “What’s going on in your head?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I think I’m trying to put the pieces together, but none of them fit or they change entirely.”

“Well explain it to me,” he offered.

“I… don’t think I can…” his ears flattened. “Even if I could, I don’t even know if I want to hear myself say it.”

“Just try,” he urged. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

“Heh… famous last words,” he grinned a little. Seeing his humor staying, Mouse beamed back and then gave a stance to show he was listening. “... I feel like I woke up from a coma. I think I was doing… something. Maybe important, but then it all went black. I got this intense pain in my stomach, like my insides being pulled out slowly, but I didn’t see anything. But… there was something before…”

“Something?” he wondered.

“Well… a lot of things,” Flippy admitted. “But what was weird was you two… I feel like you two shouldn’t be here.”

“Very rude, continue,” he humored.

“I think… you should be dead.”

That made the rodent silent. He stared at Flippy and then scooted back from him a bit, reaching in his pocket. “N-no no! It’s not a threat. I had a dream you guys… died, I think.”

“Aah I see,” he sighed out, relieved. “So, do you remember how I died?”

Flippy scoured his mind, trying to remember. There was a reason why they died… There was a knife… a pizza for some reason… he threw the knife… didn’t he? No, he didn’t, not at first. The second time, he did… but at…

“Sneaky…” his eyes were now pin stricken pupils.

“... Sneaky killed me?” he crossed his arms. “If this is because I stole his rations, that is not fair.”

“No, he didn’t… I think…there was pizza and… a knife?” he looked at his paws. They were clean, but a vision wiped across his view. They were covered in blood, he had a spine and a pair of ribs… and then his hands were gone, with only sharpened bones taking their place. “No… I didn’t…”

“You… didn’t what?”

What should have been fear turned to distress and then agony. He saw drops of salt water fall before his vision blurred and turned hot, as well as his cheeks and ears. “F-Flippy…! Y-you’re crying…?”

He felt a lump in his throat start to suffocate his airway. He shakily gulped in air and let it out in a whimper.

“... I’m sorry,” he exhaled. “I… I had it for a second…”

“It’s okay…!” the rodent scooted back towards him and took his paw, holding it and caressing the top of it with his thumb. “You’re feeling sick, I think is all. Once you get some food, you’ll be juste comme la pluie…”

Any memories he had before seemed to vanish in that instant. Maybe it WAS just an awful dream. One that was too unfair for his head, but at least now he was awake. He would be okay, maybe.

Sneaky came back with an MRE pack and a fresh canteen.

“Here, I got your favorite,” he gave the pack and water to Flippy. “Lentils in masala sauce. I was even able to heat it up for you in secret, so shush.”

“Thanks,” he tore open the pack, taking the spoon that was taped to the side and dug in.

“He all good?” the reptile asked the rodent. Mouse nodded.

“Bad dream,” he explained.

“Don’t say it like that,” Flippy chuckled, his mouth full a bit. He swallowed, happy to have his recently emptied belly becoming full of something. “You make me sound like I’m a wimp.”

“Ehh you are a bit,” Sneaky snorted, patting his head. “But thanks to your wimpiness, Mouse and I are excused from patrol to make sure you’re okay. So I suppose we owe you one.”

“Oui!” Mouse cheered. Immediately, he dug into his pocket and pulled out some cards. “Gin rummy?”

“Deal me in…!” Sneaky boasted, getting on his knees. “Winner gets dessert for the week.”

“Haha, I’ll take that action! Flippy?”

“Be prepared to lose, fellas,” he finished his bagged meal.

As Mouse dealt the cards out, Sneaky looked at Flippy.

“So… how do you feel about our mission coming up?”

“What mission?” Flippy wondered.

“Against General Tiger,” he responded. “We’re gonna try out your plan with the pizza and knife?”

“Oh, he was just talking about that…!” Mouse gasped. “Looks like you didn’t lose any important memories…!”

Something should have clicked. Something should have given off warning bells, opened up, anything. But Flippy only smiled, forgetting his dream entirely.

“I guess not…!”

[silver-ace-of-spades]

The Blazing Silver Light of Paldea

Chapter 21: Pesadilla

Silver wants to get stronger so he can save Duke's life, so he trains to defeat Medali Gym Leader Larry the Rat.

silver learns telepathy

Kris the Cat and Amy Rose the Hedgehog make their return!

Blaze and Silver literally sleep together again.

~~~~~

Silver woke up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night due to a nightmare. A blanket covered his whole body, face included. He threw the blanket off and breathed heavily, since the blanket and his distress felt suffocating.

The hedgehog whimpered and hugged the Espeon sleeping next to him. She mewed in surprise, but saw her Trainer's distress and tried to calm him down.

"I... thanks..."

Blaze woke up and looked tiredly at the panicked hedgie. "I'm trying to sleep... You okay? You're breathing loudly."

Silver wheezed and tried to catch his breath, then explained the situation. "I'm... sorry... had... a night...mare."

"That explains why I'm in your bed." Blaze chuckled.

Silver's face went bright red and they tried to apologize, but there was a weird feeling in their throat that prevented them from speaking. They choked and stumbled on the words they wanted to say.

"Are you okay?" The cat asked.

"I-I'm sorry!!!" Silver stammered. He nervously stimmed with his quills and tried to at least somewhat control his breathing. He regretted stimming with his quills when he coughed for a few seconds and stabbed himself.

"Ow..."

"Stabbed yourself again?" Blaze asked.

"Mm-hmm... hate... being... a hedgehog... sometimes... Cough!"

"Same, but replace hedgehog with Pyrokinetic." Blaze giggled. "Would you like to talk about your dream?"

Silver got a reusable water bottle from his backpack, drank like he hadn't had water for a day, then nodded.

"Okay... So. I was in Mesagoza, but it was on fire and in ruins, and the air was filled with smoke. I heard Groudon's roar and saw a Legendary Pokémon you may not have heard about. Ever heard of Chi-Yu?" His voice was strained and he breathed heavily as he spoke.

"No I haven't." Blaze told the Psychokinetic.

"It's one of the four Treasures of Ruin, located in the Firescourge Shrine. It can create lava by swimming through the ground."

"Wow." Blaze muttered.

"So I was hacking up my lungs from the smoke when I saw Arven and Duke. Arven rushed Duke to a mystical yellow light and a mystical red light, but it was just fire. Duke suddenly fell over. He wasn't breathing." Silver's voice got shaky and some tears formed in their eyes.

"You're really worried about Duke, aren't you?" Blaze asked.

Silver nodded and let out some wheezy sobs into Blaze's shoulder. They felt like they were at fault for allowing Duke to lose time in his life.

"I... I... Cough! Cough! -can't stop thinking about him..." Silver whimpered. "I feel like it's my fault he's dying... like I should've done something..."

Blaze ran their fingers through Silver's tensed quills and tried to calm him down. "It's not your fault. You got sick, and you can't control that. It'll be okay. Why don't you get stronger by doing the Gym Challenge?"

"But..." Silver sighed. "You're right. I need to get stronger before... we can save Duke. You should get stronger, too."

Blaze nodded, then yawned. "I'm going back to sleep. You should, too."

"Love you. Is that awkward to say, since we're not dating? I mean it 100% platonically."

"Love you too, amigo." Blaze smiled. "Want to sleep together?"

Silver choked in surprise and his face glowed bright red. "I'm not ready to have sex yet, and I don't think I'll ever be."

"Oh, right. Forgot sleeping together was a term for having sex. I meant sleeping next to you, platonically, in pajamas." Blaze blushed a bit and grabbed an extra blanket. "We can have separate blankets."

"In that case, yes. I... I need the company."

Blaze wrapped herself in a purple blanket and purred, then flopped next to Silver and fell asleep.

Silver looked at the cozy cat burrito and made himself into a burrito, then fell asleep shortly after.

When the teens woke up, they felt much better. They took turns showering, got dressed, and had breakfast at the motel lobby.

After taking their meds, Blaze called Amy and Kris.

"Hi, Blaze! It's nice to see you! Is Silver doing better now? I heard he was really sick." Amy spoke.

"I recovered. It was very painful, though, and lasted a few weeks. I had to go to the hospital. I coughed so hard that I threw up a bunch, then had to have a tube stuck down my throat." Silver sighed. "My throat's still pretty sore, and I still have a bit of a cough, but I'm so much better."

"Silver..." Blaze groaned. "Didn't have to mention the puking..."

"Gross." Amy muttered. "I'm glad you're feeling better now."

"Thanks. I was so worried I was going to die. Breathing's already hard, and then I was drowning from the inside." Silver coughed from overexerting their throat and Blaze chuckled.

"I know you weren't able to speak for a while, but you have to take it easy, bud." She said.

"But I have– Cough! -a lot to say..." The psychic hedgie told his friend.

"I know, I know."

Amy giggled. She could tell the two were close friends. "So why did you call?"

"I called you because I wanted to battle you. I'm in Medali if you want to battle me." Blaze said.

Kris smiled and typed something into the chat. "May I battle you too?"

"Of course! I want to get stronger so I can protect those around me." Blaze told them.

Kris grinned, and Aura, who had evolved into a Lucario, growled excitedly. Kris laughed and petted the Fighting/Steel-Type.

"Aura seems filled with determination." Silver smiled.

The kids hung up and Blaze got prepared to battle her friends.

Kris and Amy met up with the teens near Casseroya Lake, and they teamed up against Silver and Blaze in a Multi Battle. The sun shone down on the kids, and wild Pokémon gathered around to watch the battle.

"Go, Sylvene!" Amy shouted. She sent out a Sylveon.

Kris sent out their Umbreon, named Darken.

Silver and Blaze giggled.

"Should we do it?" Silver asked.

"Hehe, yeah. Go, Coal!" Blaze answered.

Silver sent out Sunlight with a confident grin, then he and Blaze looked at each other with a nod. "Alright!"

"The battle between Team Kris and Team Silver will now begin!" Silver's phone announced.

Sunlight began with a Future Sight on Sylvene, then Darken used Skill Swap on Sunlight.

"Heh, get Magic Bounced– oh... I get it..." Silver muttered. "Crap."

Sunlight's Ability bounced the Skill Swap back, but the result was ultimately the same. Sunlight got Synchronize and Darken got Magic Bounce.

The strategies employed by the teams were clever, such as Amy switching in her Dachsbun, Challah, to take a Lava Plume from Charlie, or Blaze having Cedar use Earthquake while Silver had Pecky in battle.

Team Silver won, but it was a very close battle. Amy's Azumarill, Aquarius, threatened most of Blaze's Pokémon with his Huge Power Ability and Rain Dance.

After the battle, Pecky and Robin began to glow. The time/space duo gasped and watched their birds reach their final form. Pecky became a beautiful Staraptor and Robin became a fierce Talonflame.

The teens said goodbye to Amy and Kris, then got their Pokémon healed and prepared for Silver to challenge Gym Leader Larry.

They walked up and smiled to the man at the counter.

"Hello, young ladies." The man at the counter said.

Silver flinched, then focused really hard. He connected to the man's mind and corrected him via telepathy.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, um, hedgehog. It feels weird just calling you hedgehog. Is sir okay?" The man asked.

Silver gasped. They successfully performed telepathy on a non-telepath for the first time!

"Silver." Blaze said, getting his attention.

"I know. Just... I telepathized successfully!" Silver exclaimed. He turned to the man and smiled. "Yes, sir is okay."

"Which one of you is going to challenge Larry?"

"I am!" The Psychokinetic said excitedly.

"Your mission is to order the secret menu item. You and three others will be given clues, and you need to battle each other for clues."

Silver smirked. They focused hard on the man and the four clues became crystal clear.

"Yep, I've got that." Silver confirmed.

The teens left the building, and Silver sat down for a bit.

"I have a bad headache... Telepathizing is hard..."

Blaze got a painkiller for the hedgehog and smiled. "Take this."

Silver took the painkiller with some water and his headache started to go away. "Thanks. Go check the grate by that semicircle thingy, I'll check the ice cream stand. Meet me by the Treasure Eatery afterwards."

Blaze went down the stairs to the ampitheater and found a paper that said "Fire Blast". Silver found some grilled rice balls for sale at the ice cream stand.

As Silver went to the restaurant, he found a blue Squawkabilly and listened to what it said. It said "medium" so Silver took note.

"Okay, so the ampitheater clue says 'Fire Blast'." Blaze told her friend.

"Grilled rice balls. I got another clue down. Medium. The final clue is to ask a regular for a seasoning."

The teens entered the restaurant and Silver focused and tried to read the minds of the customers, but it was a bit much. He exited the building and tried to make his resurfacing headache go away.

Blaze asked a man in a business suit for the secret seasoning, then went out to check on Silver.

"My head hurts so bad..." Silver moaned.

Blaze gave him another painkiller and sat with him until his headache went away. It took a few minutes, but eventually Silver's head wasn't pounding anymore.

"Now that I'm feeling better, what's the secret seasoning for the menu item?" Silver asked.

"Lemon."

Silver nodded in affirmation, then he and Blaze went into the restaurant to order.

[amyscascadingtabs]

give you my wild, give you a child

"stupid numbers, think they’re so great. i'd love to see numbers give you a baby."

inspired by that one line in 8x08 renewal, because he really did give her a baby.

read on ao3

It's been three days and Amy can't stop crying.

 Sometimes she thinks it's stopped, that she'll finally have a stable moment to talk to her husband or eat a meal in peace or facetime some of the twenty or so relatives on her list, but it feels like it’s never more than minutes before her emotions swim to surface again and something new brings out the vibrating sobs that have seemed to characterize this day. As it turns out, even newly pregnant Amy has got nothing on three days postpartum Amy.

 That she cries about the big, life-changing things doesn’t surprise her. When she wakes up after a night of minimal sleep and sees Mac in the bedside crib next to her, she cries because she’s so grateful; that everything went well, that their baby is finally here and that he's perfect beyond words. Then she cries because she thinks about what could have happened if it hadn't gone well, because she gave birth in a makeshift birthing suite in a police precinct, and so many things could have gone wrong it’s a miracle nothing did. When she gets out of the shower, she cries seeing herself in the bathroom mirror, because she's proud of her body in a way she's never experienced before. Then she cries because she also barely recognizes the person staring back at her, still looking six months pregnant except with hospital underwear and nursing pads in her bra. When she has breakfast after feeding Mac and tries to read the newspaper, she cries because so many terrible things are happening in the world all the time, and she doesn’t know how she’s going to protect this child from a world that sometimes seems to be getting more and more cruel by the day. Then she cries out of guilt for feeling that way, because she’s supposed to be enjoying this baby bubble, and what kind of mother even is she for daring to think about anything but her baby right now?

  As the day goes on, however, her reasons for crying begin to feel increasingly ridiculous. She cries because she’s so relieved to be drinking regular coffee again, then because it doesn’t taste the same as decaf and she’s gotten so used to it that the caffeine tastes weird now. She cries because the coffee goes cold anyway when Mac begins to whimper and suck on his fingers in the way he seems to do whenever he’s hungry and she has to drop everything to feed him another time. She cries when Jake turns on the television and a commercial for diapers comes on, because she can’t believe they get to buy them now. Then she cries when Mac has finished eating because the red flannel she borrowed slash stole from Jake won’t button properly, and she realizes one of the buttons has gone in the wrong hole and she has to redo the whole thing. When Jake offers to help her with it, that makes her cry too, because the way he’s not laughing at her right now but patiently trying to solve her problems is making her feel so loved she doesn't know how to thank him.

  The thing that makes her cry most of all, though, is watching Jake and Mac together. She always knew that sight would drive her crazy, and it’s part of the reason she wanted to have kids with him so much in the first place, but not even in her most indulgent fantasies about their future could she have pictured this. As grateful as she is over the fact that she gets to be a mom, getting to see Jake be a dad is a close second. He loves their son so much, and Mac so clearly loves him too, and Amy has to remind herself of the nine months she's spent carrying this child by herself in order not to feel jealous when Mac stops fussing the moment Jake picks him up. He looks so tiny when Jake holds him, the back of his head fitting perfectly in Jake's palm, and the care with which he’s handling him keeps making her emotional. He's always talking to him, sometimes whispers she can't hear and sometimes praise for her which she can, and that makes her cry too. He even chats to him when he changes his diapers, which Amy hides behind the door frame just so she can hear, failing to stifle a giggle when he asks in a fake interrogation voice what Mac has to say to his defense for making such a mess. He wakes up with her in the middle of the night when she has to breastfeed to get her endless glasses of water and granola bars when it makes her feel starving, and then he lets Mac burp him in the face and spit up on the back of his shirt before he falls back asleep curled up on his chest. He leans his chin on the top of Mac’s head to smell that perfect baby scent, running his finger over those cute neck rolls, and the smile on his face when he looks back at Amy makes her completely lose it, because this is what she dreamed of all along.

  This is what she imagined when they visited her brother Christian’s new baby shortly before they got married and Jake spent the better part of an hour making funny faces to the child in his arms. This is what she panicked over when he said he wasn't sure if he wanted kids, because she had always thought. This is what she thought of those nights after another timed round of unenthusiastic sex, trying to keep the hope alight until that single line would once more tell them not this time. She had felt it in his teary smile when she showed him that first positive test, in how hard he'd squeezed her hand at their first ultrasound when their baby’s heartbeat had filled the room, in the absolute joy on his face the first time he’d managed to put his hand on her stomach just in time to feel their son kick, and now it's right in front of her and almost too much for her heart to take.

 She's so tired, and she's sore and overwhelmed and worried about a billion different things, but she's never felt so grateful.

 That's what makes her cry floods at three a.m. when Mac seems to have finished eating and she comes back from the bathroom to find Jake still sitting up with him in bed, holding him with a hypnotised look on his face. He doesn’t even seem tired, even though he must be, is just looking at his son like he’s holding the entire world in his arms and doesn’t ever want to let go. She always knew seeing him with a baby would be incredible, those surprisingly toned biceps curling around a fragile little human and those heart eyes focused on one thing only, but maybe she hadn’t expected not being able to watch it without breaking into tears.

 “Jeez, Ames,” he says when he looks up, the expression on his face changing to one of concern. “Are you okay? Honestly?”

“Yeah,” she sniffles and dries her eyes again as she sits down on the bed. The skin on her cheeks is stinging at this point. “I just can’t believe this is my life.”

“Why not?” Mac’s pacifier glides out of his mouth, and Jake puts it back with two fingers before he can notice anything. “We’re right here, babe. We’re very much real.”

“Sometimes I thought it was never going to happen.” She hiccups. “All the times we’ve been apart. The months we fought to have him. How freaking long and exhausting being pregnant was. And now I have him, and you, and I’m just so grateful I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“That’s why you’re crying?”

“I think I don’t even know why I’m crying anymore. I’m so sleep-deprived.”

“Yeah.” Jake smirks. “But I get it. I’m really, really grateful too.”

 Mac makes a short gurgling sound that Amy takes to mean he agrees. She reaches out so his hand can wrap around her ring finger, feeling him squeezing it tight in the cutest grip. The grey striped pajamas has little mittens on it to keep him from scratching herself, but Mac gets upset whenever they pull them down, so Amy figures they'll just have to keep filing his nails instead. Their son is already both opinionated and stubborn, and she loves it about him, because she loves everything about who he is. He's perfect, and he's hers, and she still can't quite believe it even though he's right there in Jake's arms. It's all her dreams coming true, and it's making all the hard things feel so worth it.

 “Jake?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for giving me a baby,” she whispers. She’s too tired, barely even knows what she's saying anymore, but looking at the two of them, all she can think about is how incredibly lucky and thankful she feels.

Jake blinks in disbelief, grinning at her. “Wait, I gotta make sure I heard this right. Did you just thank me for giving you a baby?”

“Uh-huh?”

“And you're serious about this?”

“Well… yeah.”

“So you mean after nine months,” he says, still wide-eyed, “of you telling me, minimum a couple times a week but pretty much daily toward the end, that I could never understand what you're going through, and then you shouting some lovely descriptions at me whilst you were literally pushing him out, and also earlier this evening when you cried because I can't breastfeed him for you – you’re thanking me?”

“Some of it was a team effort,” she insists. “You helped.”

“Oh yeah, my nards sure are loving the credit.”

“Don't be gross.”

“Sorry.” He smiles, a little bashfully, stroking his fingers back and forth over Mac’s forehead instead of looking at her. “But Ames, c’mon. It was a pretty limited effort compared to what you did.”

“Maybe they’re not the same thing.” She leans her head on his shoulder. Mac is still holding on to her finger, but his grip is getting looser now. “But you were part of it too, babe.”

“Really?” He’s blushing. “What did I do that was so special?”

“Let's see. You didn’t laugh at me when I kept crying at everything the first weeks. Rosa made fun of me on a daily basis, but you just hugged me and told me everything was going to be okay. You let me sleep in when I had days off, even though I pretended I wanted you to wake me up. You fixed food for me without telling me what it was, and put it in front of me before I could feel sick thinking about it.” She shakes her head at the memory of those, few but complicated, weeks, and how hard they’d had to work around it. “You kept telling me I looked great even when my body kept changing and it all felt weird, and helped me pick out maternity wear when I didn’t want to do it on my own. I don’t know that I would have taken barely any bump pictures if you hadn't made me. You listened to all my research about the best strollers and pacifiers and cribs, and you did those courses and read all those books with me, and you came to almost every scan and held my hand so tight every time. You came home with onesies and hats because you thought they were too cute not to buy, and you gave me massages whenever I wanted them, and you even slept on the couch a couple nights at the end when I got angry at you for snoring. You barely even complained about it.”

“I complained a little,” Jake mumbles. “When you couldn’t hear me.”

“Fine. And lastly, you rode a horse through the city to get to me while I was in labor, and you didn’t even act like seeing him be born was gross.”

“I mean, it was a little bit gross.” Jake lifts Mac so he can kiss his forehead when he whimpers. “No offense, bud. I mean you looked perfect, I didn’t think you looked like a slimy alien even for a second, didn’t cross my mind, et cetera.”

“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes. “Point is, babe, you were there. You're here now. I know I did the actual work, but you were the one who made sure I could. I don’t know how I would have made it through without you. So… thank you.”

 He doesn't give her any witty comebacks for that, only a shy smile.

“I love you,” Amy all but whispers through the tears that fight their way through her determination to keep them in. “Both of you. So much.”

“Love you, Ames.”

She kisses him, putting her hands on each side of his thighs so she can reach over Mac. Kissing is a lot more complicated than usual when both his hands are busy and none of them wants to risk crushing their son, but it's still nice, feeling his soft lips on hers and squeezing his lower lip between both of hers for just a moment before pulling apart.

“It's hard to kiss you while you're holding a baby,” she says, and Jake grimaces. “That might be the only bad thing about it.”

“My bad. I’m just going to put him down so we can make out all night.”

“Don't you dare. He currently doesn't have a boob in his mouth and he's still not crying, you're not doing anything to risk that now.” Amy pulls the comforter up to her chin. “Wake me up when he needs to eat again and not a second earlier.”

Jake chuckles at her as she turns out the light and snuggles up close to him, but he makes no move to put Mac down or even protest, and she didn't think it was possible to love him even more. Her heart has definitely grown with becoming a mom, much like everyone told her about, but most seem to have forgotten to prepare her for how much it would also grow when it came to her partner.

 “I still think I’m the one who should say thank you,” Jake whispers just as she closes her eyes, and Amy can't help but smile. “If we're talking about who gave who a baby.”

“Jake, just accept the praise.”

“Oh, yeah.” She doesn't need to see his face to know that he's grinning. “I’ve locked it in a little box in my brain and I’m gonna keep it as gloat material forever, bringing it up when you least expect it.”

“That's great, babe.”

“Mm-hmm. We both know the truth, though.” Jake's left hand strokes over the top of her head, and Amy has to look up to see that Mac is still resting safely on his right arm and doesn't seem to have noticed a thing. Another tear fight its way down her cheek at the thought of how safe he must feel with him. This time, she doesn’t even bother to wipe it away.

 ~

[machinegunbun]

PETE ACDS

A/N: The long awaited (about two months) fic! It hasn’t been proofread but I wanted to get it out so I could go get dinner. I’ll fix any problems when I get back.

Word count: 2,973 but Imma round it up and say 3k for my ego

If there's one thing you know, it’s that there’s nothing like a good game of dress up to boost your confidence. you’d been staring at yourself in the mirror for the last half hour, admiring the way your body looked in the new lingerie.

Let's make one thing clear. You are not, for the most part, a very confident person, but it’s hard not to be confident when you look this fucking good. There would be vigorous debates between multiple world leaders on the topic of what was more poppin’, your highlight or that ass, and after years of deliberation and consulting multiple experts top in their field, it would be determined that they both excelled in different ways, coming together to create the hottest bitch on planet earth. God damn, I am that bitch, you thought.

When you’re feeling this confident, there's only one thing to do. Show your man what he's got. Reaching over, you grab your phone from the bed before returning to the mirror. Clicking it on, you swipe over to open the camera while posing in front of the mirror.

It wasn’t until you looked back on your photoshoot that you realized you’d been giving yourself fuck me eyes in almost every picture. In need of validation and praise for your hard work, you click Pete’s contact and send him a few.

The next few minutes were full of you admiring yourself, imagining in detail the things you would do to yourself if you were Pete.

Pete, on the other hand, was doing the exact same thing. He hadn’t taken his eyes off the photo since he’d received it, taking his time raking his eyes over every inch of your body. Pete was very lucky to have a job doing something he enjoyed, meaning he was never in a big rush to get home, but today he definitely would be.

When Pete finally walked through the door he was more than ready for what tonight would hold, but his excitement was cut short as he was met with a room of your friends. They had shown up unexpectedly and you’d been trying to get them to leave ever since you’d gotten his text,

“I’m on my way home. If you aren’t in that lingerie on the bed ass up by the time I get home you’re gonna be in so much fucking trouble.”

but, they wouldn’t take the hint. You loved them, but they were shitty at taking hints. When you heard him walk through the door your mind began racing, knowing if you didn’t find a way to shoo your friends out early you would be in deep, deep-

“No, no it’s okay. Stay for a little, I could use it. How have you guys been?” Pete says as one of your friends stands to leave, finally understanding that it must have something to do with Pete coming home. You can see the warning in his eyes when they meet your own, his back turned to your friends as he eyed you, wearing nothing but his shirt, practically swimming in the material.

He listens absentmindedly as your friend fills him in on the conversation about her boyfriend- Er, ex-boyfriend, you all were having before he arrived, making his way into the kitchen where you were making snacks.

“Right, right.” He says, giving your friend a vague response to show he was listening before leaning down to whisper in your ear “What the fuck do you think you’re doing inviting your friends over when you know you’re in trouble?”

“I didn’t-”

“I should take you into the bathroom and fuck your brains out just to teach you a lesson, but I think you’d like that a little too much, wouldn’t you, slut.” He whispers, turning to acknowledge your friend entering the kitchen

“Do you guys have any alcohol? I just really wanna get drunk.” She says.

It took around an hour for your friends to finally leave. You had a good time, and for a moment you even forgot you were in trouble with Pete. You almost thought he had aswell, until he approached you after shutting and locking the door behind them for the night.

“You wanna explain yourself?”

“I’m sorry, I was ju-”

“I just- I was only- What? You just knew you were in trouble so you invited your friends over to get out of it?”

“No! I didn’t even know they were coming over! My phone was dead.”

“I guess that’s why you read my text and still disobeyed me then, huh?”

“Well- No, my phone was charged at that point.”

“That’s okay, you’re gonna make it up to me. Instead of just being punished for trying to distract me at work, you can-” as the words were leaving his mouth, your phone dings. Speak of the devil. Your breath catches in your throat as the tension in the room grows. Seriously? You think, Right now? Could the timing have possibly been worse?

“Check it.” He challenged, glaring down at you. Your eyes flicked over to your phone, memories of what you had done just hours before to get yourself into this flooding your mind, your gaze quickly returning to his, unsure if it was rhetorical “Go ahead, you’re already in trouble.”

“It’s Casey,” you gulp “dinners ready.” Pete looked mildly inconvenienced by this, maintaining a silent eye contact momentarily before motioning you up the stairs with a look on his face that said ‘What are you waiting for?’

It wasn’t every night that you would have dinner as a family, but Casey had just gotten back from a vacation with friends, so Amy wanted to take the opportunity to have everyone together.

You walked in front of him, taking one step at a time, holding your breath. The anxiety- no, anticipation was overwhelming. You’d waited so long just for him to get home, and now you’d have to wait again.

Casey had cut him off mid sentence, You began to wonder what he would’ve said if she hadn’t. Your leg twitches as you realize you’d only find out in the moment. No time left for warnings, when you finally got back downstairs there would be so much build up you doubt he’d take the time to write a speech.

Ma sat opposite Pete and you at the table, an empty chair next to Ma for Casey who was currently fixing herself a plate, your own full plates sitting in front of you. Dinner for tonight was steak and potatoes with cooked asparagus. It was hard to focus on food. Instead, you dragged the tongs of your fork through your potatoes, hoeing the mashy farmland that was your dinner, when you felt a hand grip your thigh.

You were feeling quite the range of emotions now, a hard contrast to how you were feeling when you got yourself into this mess. You’re scared, but excited, submissive, but bratty, nervous, but wet. The anxiety of it all is killing you, wanting nothing more than to go back downstairs and make it up to him.

“Hey, stupid.” Casey says, smacking Pete on the back of the head as she makes her way to her seat.

“I’m not stupid, you are. Stupid.” Pete replies, Amy scoffing at their sibling banter.

“That’s enough, she just got back. Be nice to each other. How was everyone's day?” Amy asks, trying to motivate some decent dinner conversation.

When you made it back downstairs Pete gave you a glare that said you were on very thin ice tonight. He made his way over to the couch, taking a seat, his legs slightly spread with his feet planted on the ground.

“Do you want me-”

“Get on your fucking knees and suck. My. Dick.” He demands, making it obvious that tonight would not be the night to disobey.

Your hands worked quickly, unbuckling his pants and pulling them not halfway down his thighs before pulling his underwear down just enough for his thick member to spring out. You quickly got to work teasing him, swirling your tongue around his tip before taking it in your mouth and hollowing out your cheeks, moving down a bit before coming back up and repeating, taking your time with him.

“Seriously? You’re gonna tease me? You wanna play that game right now?” Pete says, you toss the words around in your head for a moment before deciding that you had probably gotten yourself in enough trouble for tonight. You began bobbing your head slowly, letting his hand on the back of your head set the pace.

“Hmm, that's right,” he groaned “apologize to daddy.”

Every once in a while he would push down unexpectedly and you’d gag, on the other hand sometimes you’d go too far down for his liking and he’d pull you back by your hair. He was making sure that you knew every aspect of tonight was going to be for his pleasure, down to how you sucked his dick. It was so hot.

By the time he pulled you off you were wet in more ways than one, both your face and his lower half covered in your spit.

“Such a good girl for me, huh?” He says, reaching down to slip his fingers between your legs, sliding his digits against your core, sliding one in slowly before immediately removing it.

“So wet too, barely even touched you,” He slips his finger into his mouth, moaning at the taste “I need to taste you.” He groans, his grip on your hair not faltering as he pulls you up to lean against the arm of the couch, burying his tongue deep inside your soaking wet cunt. Desperate moans and words of encouragement slip past your lips as he works you with his tongue, his hand slipping under your, well, his shirt, massaging your breast. You whine as he sits up to take it completely off, the moment over before it really began.

“Stay here,” He says, walking into the other room.

You sat patiently for what was beginning to feel like forever, facing the couch as you wondered what he was doing. You could hear him shuffling around in the other room, presumably looking for something. 

What was taking him so long? You’d both been waiting the same amount of time for this, you arguably longer than him, and he had barely even touched you yet.  It was only fair, you thought, that since you’d helped him out a bit that you help yourself.

You check that he isn’t walking back into the room as you slip your hand between your legs, letting out a small breath through parted lips as you rub yourself through your underwear. You didn’t realize how badly you needed this until your hips were rocking against your hand, trying desperately to give yourself what Pete could so effortlessly. Your mind wandered back to you on the bed, moments before your friends arrived, your orgasm slowly approaching when

There was a knock on the door.

Pete must’ve forgotten his keys, you thought. You scanned the room for something to cover up with, quickly grabbing one of Pete’s shirts he had lazily discarded on the couch the night prior.

The metal of the door handle was cool as you wrapped your hand around it, a stark contrast to that of your skin, pulling the door open. A moment of shock washing over you as you’re met with the sight of three of your bestfriends standing in front of you in the cool, dark night. You stutter out a quick invitation inside from the cold and a question of what they’re doing here.

You shook the thought away, returning to what you had been thinking of before they arrived.

The kiss was messy and desperate, a perfect representation of the way you both were feeling. His hands were all over you, slipping your shirt over your head while you worked on unbuttoning his pants. You needed him so badly, and from the looks of the bulge protruding from his underwear, he needed you just as much. Your lips were on his neck while his hand made its way around to grope your ass, love bites joining his circle of tattoos as he squeezed, your flushed skin warming his cold hands.

“I don’t remember asking you to touch yourself.”

Your eyes snapped open as you felt a hand around your neck, a newfound confidence washing over you now that your mind wasn’t so clouded by need.

“I don’t remember you touching me.” You quip, your eyes meeting as he uses his grip on your neck to force your gaze up to him. He tilts his head, looking down at you

“I suggest you shut the fuck up before you land yourself in a situation you don’t want to be in.” He says, his voice stern

“I suggest you fucking make me.” You say, his hand quickly coming behind your head to wrap your hair in a makeshift ponytail, his other grabbing his dick and shoving it down your throat, causing you to gag. Your eyes water as he roughly fucks your throat, cautious to keep your mouth open as to not hurt him. There’s a string of spit from your mouth to his tip when he pulls away, leaving your throat burning.

He returns to his place on the couch and you begin positioning yourself back between his legs, assuming he wants you to continue.

“No. On my lap.” He says, glaring down at you. You stand, confused, as you take your seat on his thigh, your eyes not leaving his. He rolls his eyes, readjusting you so you’re laying on your stomach, flat across his lap.

“I know you don’t know how to listen, but I know for a fact you know how to count.” He says, delivering a harsh smack to your ass. You lay silently, waiting for the next when he continues in a rather condescending tone.

“One.” another harsh smack

“One.” You repeat, unsure of yourself.

“Was that one or was it two?” He asks,

“It was three.” You whisper

“Restart.” He says, his hand colliding harshly as ever.

By the time you count out fifteen your ass is red and your eyes prickling with tears. You begin pathetically begging him to leave it there,

“I’ll be a good girl daddy, I promise.” You whine.

“Hm, should’ve thought about that a little sooner.” He hummed, motioning for you to sit up.

He positions himself so he’s leaning against the arm of the couch, reaching to the side and grabbing the bottle of lube he had left the room for. It makes a clicking sound as he opens it, pouring a small amount on his hand. When he’s satisfied he motions for you to come over, your legs spread as you stand on your knees overtop him. He pulls you down into a kiss, his hands reaching behind you and spreading the lube in and around your tight hole. You sit back up when he’s done, watching as he strokes his hard dick, distributing what was left of the lube onto the red and swollen member.

Pete sits up, moving behind you and pushing your face into the couch cushion, pulling your hips into the air. You pull your lip between your teeth as he lines himself up with your ass, his eyes focused on where you’re about to meet as he slowly sinks himself into you, A whimper falling from your mouth as you struggle to take him. He stalls his actions, waiting for you to feel comfortable enough to move back against him before he continues.

Pete can’t help the groan that erupts from his throat when he begins pumping in and out of you, mesmerized by the moans that are slipping past your lips as he finds his rhythm, his hand snaking around your waist to play with your clit.

Pete was always big, no matter how you were taking him, whether it was your mouth or your wet pussy or your ass, but his length and girth were much more noticeable during anal. It still felt good, of course, just different.

You feel the hand that was resting on your ass make its way up your back, wrapping itself around your neck and pulling you up so your back was pressed flush against his chest. You could feel the sweat building between you two, acting as encouragement and lubrication as you moved against one another. You struggled to catch your breath as his grip tightened, choking you and tilting your head up.

“Open your mouth.” He growls, spitting in your mouth, his spit tasting of you, his hands working magic on your clit as he pounds harshly at your ass all swirling together into one feeling deep in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck, i’m gonna cum.” You manage to slur out, your head being pulled back by your makeshift ponytail

“Excuse me? You aren’t gonna do shit without asking me first.”

“Sorry, p-please, can I please cum daddy, please.” you beg, quick to cover up your mistake in fear that he’ll deny your orgasm. By some stroke of miracle, Pete was in a good mood, so he decides to take your pleas to heart and continues until you’re unravelling around him, your legs giving out as he mercilessly pounds you into the couch. He follows soon after, pulling out and unloading himself on your back.

You both take a moment to catch your breath, his hand lovingly stroking your thigh as he sits on your legs. You turn over a bit once you’ve calmed down, careful not to get any of his cum on the couch.

“Ah, shit. Sorry. Here.” He says, reaching over to grab his shirt and wipe it up for you.

“Wow, you're such a romantic.” You remark.

[dracos-eternity]

Ours- Poly! Bowers Gang x Reader

Summary: The boys show you who you belong to.

Warnings: Smut, PATRICK IS A WARNING ON HIS OWN, polyamory, cursing

Word Count: 2,328

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

Y/N P.O.V.

"Vic, put me down!" I giggle as the blond boy holds me, his arms wrapped around me from behind.

"Nope, sorry love." I try to fight as he approaches the water.

"Victor James (not really his middle name but idk it so hear we are) Criss, if you throw me in the water!" I struggle against hsi grip, cursing myself for agreeing to come to the quarry with these idiots.

"Ooh, the whole name, you might need a punishment for that." He chuckles in my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

"Vic, stop! I don't have a change of clothes and I'm in my jeans and shirt!" He finally puts me down and grabs the end of my shirt. I lift my arms and he pulls it over my head. He quickly slides my pants off to. I try to run but Belch stands in front of me. "Belch, please don't." I whine as he boy picks me up off the ground. He throws me into the water despite my protests. I come out the water, glaring daggers at him.

"Aw, princess your wet." Patrick comes up behind me in the water, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing my neck, making me let out little moans.

"Pat," I turn around, giving the boy a slow, heated kiss. "it's not funny." I quickly place my hands on his head, pushing him underwater and swimming up to where Belch and Henry are now standing, hiding behind the two. Patrick comes out the water, searching for me. Vic starts laughing causing Patrick to glare at him, making me laugh. "Fuck." I notice the tall, lanky boy walking up to me. "Help!" I shriek, running from him. I jump back into the water, slowly backing up.

"Princess, your only so tall, two more steps and your head goes under." He looks at me intimidatingly. Vic jumps in, coming up to me and tapping my thigh under the water before he goes under. I quickly settle on his shoulders before he comes up laughing at Patrick still. "He's not that tall either." He continues walking, slowly. I fall backwards off Vics shoulders, swimming up to Pat, wrapping my arms around his neck and standing on my tip toes.

"What are you gonna do?" I lean up kissing him.

"Punishment." He leans down whispering in my ear, his breath fanning my neck.

"Please," I pause for a moment, getting close to his ear. "master." His jaw clenches and his hands move from my waist down to my ass, pulling me close enough to feel the hard on that has formed. My breath hitches and he smirks, one hand sliding forward and playing with the top of my panties.

"What doll, cat got your tongue?" He slides one hand down the front of my panties, playing with my clit. I let out a moan as he rubs slow circles. He slides one finger in, pumping it in and out slowly. I moan and lean my head on his chest. He holds me up with the other hand, slowly speeding up his finger inside me before taking it out.

"Patrick," I whine and smack his shoulder. "your such an ass." I walk up to where Henry is sitting, getting in his lap and sitting so that my legs are straddling him. "Baby, he teased me." I pout looking at Henry, my fingers running through his hair. He places his hands on my hips, absentmindedly rubbing circles with his thumbs.

"How do you want me to fix it?" He smiles at me waiting for me to answer.

"Finger me?" I look at him, hoping he helps.

"Okay, okay." He slides one hand between us, sliding my panties to the side. Rubbing his ring and middle finger through my folds. I let out a shaky breath as he pulls his fingers to his face, looking at them. "Fuck, Y/N, your so wet." He places his finger at my entrance, teasing it as he places small kisses on my neck.

"Daddy, please don't tease." I pout and he slips his fingers in making my head lean back. "Fuck, yes, just like that." His fingers continue to pump in and out of me, bringing me closer to my edge. I let out shaky moans, getting closer and closer to the edge.

“Wake up love.” I jolt up, realizing it was a dream and I’m now horny. I groan, looking at the small, blond boy in front of me. 

“Why?” I whine, looking up at Victor.

“We’re going to a party, and its 5 in the afternoon.” I deadpan, refraining from hitting this boy. 

“You woke me up,” I breath in, my anger bubbling up. “for a fucking party.” I jump out of my bed, chasing the small boy into my living room where the rest of the boys are, Victor hiding behind them.

“I told you guys that Patrick should have done it, she scares me!” I laugh at the boy, jumping at him now that the boys have moved only to have Belch grab my waist mid-air. 

“Yeah, I better scare you. Be glad he grabbed me.” I feel a large hand across my ass and I yelp in pain. Patrick chuckles behind me, telling me who caused it. “PATRICK!” 

“Sorry, Doll, you wore those shorts though.” 

“Belch, put me down so I can get ready for this damn party.” He listens and I stomp towards my room, shutting and locking the door. I strip down and put on a red lace bra and pantie set, putting on a short, black, leather skirt and white off the shoulder crop top, with a pair of black and white converses. I step out my room, the boys looking me up and down.

“No, change now.” Henry speaks up glaring at the short skirt. 

“I don’t want to.” 

“Fine, but don’t leave our sides tonight. Understood?” I nod my head at his words and we walk out to the Trans Am. Victor and Patrick sitting in the back with Henry and Belch in the front. 

“Come on, princess.” Henry pats his lap and I crawl in sitting on it. He rubs up and down my thigh as I lay my head on his shoulder. I look up at him and kissing his neck. He looks down, talking only where I can hear him. “Are you horny?” I nod my head, silently begging him to help me.

“I had a wet dream, and Vic woke me up before I could even get to the best part.” I pout, causing him to laugh at me. 

“Fine, I’ll help you.” He slides his hand up my skirt, sliding my panties to the side and running a finger through my folds. He uses his thumb to play with my clit, sliding two fingers in me. I let a quiet moan out, placing my face in the crook of his neck. He picks up his pace and curls his fingers after each pump, quickly bringing me to my euphoric end as I let out loud moans. I lift my head up, noticing Patrick staring at me, I hold eye contact, exaggerating my moans to tease him. He bites his lip, glaring at me as he shifts, trying to fix himself to where his erection isn’t obvious. Henry grabs the hair on the back of my head, pulling it to make me look at him. “Who’s making you feel this good?” I bite my lip as he speeds up, my brain not functioning. “I asked a fucking question.” 

“Y-you Henry.” My back arches and my walls clench around him, signaling how close I am. 

“Mhm, and what’s my name princess.” 

“D-daddy.” The word falls from my mouth continuously as I cum on his fingers. He pulls them out and slides them in my mouth, making me clean them off before he slides them back out and groaning. He shifts me so I can feel what I’ve caused for him. I shift on it, purposely grinding against it as I do. He grabs my hips, stilling me. 

We sit in silence other than the radio until we get to the party, stepping out all eyes are immediately on us. I roll my eyes and stand next to Victor as he wraps his arm around my waist, ushering me inside to the drinks. The boys slowly split off around twenty minutes into the party, leaving me on my own. I quickly down the shot of whiskey in my hand before moving to the living where furniture has been moved to the walls to create a makeshift dance floor, where sweaty bodies are grinding on each other. I move to the middle, letting the alcohol control me. Swaying my hips to the beat of the song I soon feel someone against my backside. I turn to see a boy from my chemistry class, I believe his name is Micheal. He pulls me close, my legs on each side of his thigh as we sway to the music now. I peer over his shoulder to see an angry Henry glaring at us, Patrick approaching his side. The two boys look at me, anger written on their faces as I put on a show, pulling Micheal closer and grinding on his leg. Henry quickly approaches, Pat in tow. Henry snatches Micheal back, connecting his fist to Micheal’s nose. Patrick quickly kicks Micheal as he falls to the ground, Belch and Victor running up to us. The rest of the party a circle around us now. Victor grabs me taking me to ‘Amy’ while the other guys continue to beat Micheal. 

“Y/N, what the hell were you thinking? You know better!” Victor yells, towering over me as I lean against the car. I shrink back, looking up at him.

“I’m sorry Vic.” He hugs, pulling me close and kissing the top of my head.

“I forgive you love, but the boys won’t be so easy.” I nod knowing he’s right and get into the car with Vic, falling asleep in his lap. 

The car comes to a stop in front of my house, waking me up. I stretch, getting up and walking up to my doorstep with the boys in tow. We get into my house and I stand against a wall, fearing their next moves. Patrick walks in last, immediately walking up to me and wrapping his hand around my throat tightly, to tight. I grab at his hand, my eyes wide with fear. 

“You are ours. Why the fuck are you grinding against some other guy.” I open my mouth to speak but only gasp for air as he continues to tighten around my throat. “What’s wrong kitten, not so brave now? Pathetic.” He throws me down and tears form in my eyes.

“I think we need to remind her who she belongs to, boys.” Henry says, sauntering up to me. I walk back, stupidly backing into a wall as Henry pis me their, his hands on either side of my head. He leans down, whispering into my ear. “Do you want us to remind you, doll?” I nod my head eagerly. He moves to my neck, placing hickeys in love bites as I let out soft moans. He picks me, moving me to the arm of the couch and laying me over it, my face in the cushion. He comes around to the front sitting on the couch, my chin on his thigh, mouth inches from his dick. He grabs my hair, lifting my head. “I never heard an apology, sweetheart.” 

“Im sorry, daddy.” I yelp in pain as Patrick’s hand comes in contact with my ass. 

“Patrick, take her to the bedroom.” Pat picks me up, carrying me to the room and laying me sideways on the bed, my legs dangling off and head at the edge of the bed. The other three come in seconds later, Henry in front of my face, Belch and Victor on opposite sides of me, Pat between my legs. 

“Boys? What are you doing? I’ve never taken all of you at the same time. What happened to the turn system?” Fear ivedent in my voice, causing the boys to smirk and pass glances. 

“Nope, your a big enough girl to dance on someone who isn’t us, your a big enough girl to take the punishment.” Patrick says removing my skirt while Henry pulls my shirt over my head, leaving me in my bra and panties.

Henry grabs my jaw, opening my mouth and sliding his dick in, making me take all of him. Patrick removing my panties and sliding into me, making me moan against Henry. My hands quickly move to pump the other two, groans filling my room. I moan as Patrick speeds up. Victor and Belch play with my boobs, Henry twitching in my mouth telling me he’s close. I move my tongue around in my mouth causing Henry to coat the back of my throat. He moves from my mouth, no longer muffling my moans. The sound of my moans mixed with the sight of me being their little fucktoy causing Victor to cum on my hand, arm and bed, Belch cumming moments later. Patrick grabbing my legs and angling me so he can hit my g-spot over and over again, my stomach tightening.

“Shit, daddy, I’m gonna cum.” Patrick rubs his thumb over my clit, my insides feel as though their exploding as a liquid comes out my body, my breath coming out in short, rapid chains. 

“Aww look, we made our little baby so fucked out she squirted.” Henry played with my hair while Patrick pulled out, cumming on my stomach. The boys clean up themselves and my room, except Patrick who goes into the kitchen getting food, while Belch gives me a bath and helps me clean myself up. He lays me in bed, laying beside me and holding me in his arms, playing with my hair as I drift off to sleep.

[rosethehedgehog]

Sonadow - Beach Day

It was a nice sunny, warm, spring afternoon. Perfect for visiting the beach. Which is what Sonic, Shadow, and their friends thought so too. So here everyone was, chilling on the beach. Tails, Sonic, and Knuckles were playing volleyball with Amy, Rogue, and Omega. Shadow laid in the shade reading a book. Everyone else was either swimming or chilling on the sand.

After a embarrassing 5-20 loss, Sonic looks over to see Shadow still reading in his beach chair since they came and runs over to him. Sonic takes the book out of Shadow’s hands. “Have you been sitting here reading the whole time since we got here? Come on, let’s go have some fun Shads!” Sonic puts Shadow’s book on the sand and takes Shadow’s hand. “Come on, come on!” Shadow lightly sighs and gets up from his chair and looks at Sonic’s smiling face. “What did you want to do?” “Lets make sandcastles!” Sonic takes Shadow’s hand and drags him to a nice spot in the sand and sits down, with Shadow sitting next to him.

Sonic looks at Shadow, “Bet I can make a cooler sandcastle than you.” Sonic gives Shadow a playful smile and Shadow lightly smirks back. “I’d like to see you try, faker.” “Oh, it’s on Shads!”

With Tails as their judge, Sonic and Shadow start. “If I win, you have to make me all the chili dogs I want,” Sonic says confidently. Shadow scoffs, a small smirk on his face. “If I win, you have to clean the house.” Sonic leans back, pausing making his sandcastle, a hand on his chest. “You wouldn’t make me clean our big house all by myself, would you?” Shadow only looks at him with that same smirk. “I would.” Sonic pouts, “So cruel.”

A hour passes and Shadow is made winner of the sandcastle making challenge, Sonic lays face down in the sand tired and in defeat. “I can’t believe I lost. I don’t wanna clean the house.” Shadow sits down next to him and gently rubs his fingers through Sonic’s quills. “Good try babe. Though, your sandcastle is very nice.” Sonic looks up at Shadow, face covered with sand. Shadow hides a laugh behind his hand and gently wipes some sand off Sonic’s face. “Want to take a little swim to get the sand off?” “Oh? Are you going to teach me how to swim?” Sonic teases and Shadow thinks about it for a moment before nodding. “That’s not a bad idea.” Shadow gets up and holds out his hand to Sonic.

“I think I hear Tails calling for me-” Sonic gets up and tries to make a run for it but Shadow picks him up and carries Sonic over his shoulder to the ocean. Sonic pouts at him when Shadow puts him down ankle deep in the ocean. Shadow gently takes Sonic’s hand and waits for Sonic to make the first step into the water. Sonic’s pout melts into a gentle smile and he lightly squeezes Shadow’s hand, takes a deep breath and slowly walks further into the ocean.

Making their way in deeper, Sonic holds on to Shadow as they move a bit past waist deep.”Jack, don’t let me go.” Shadow looks at Sonic with a deadpan look on his face, “I’m letting go.” “Nooooooo! I wuv youuu!” Sonic holds onto Shadow a bit tighter. “I’m joking, I’d never let you go.” Shadow lightly kisses Sonic’s cheek.

Time passes as Shadow helps Sonic learn how to swim. Being so close to Shadow, Sonic messed up a couple a lot of times. The two swam for a while and Sonic has gotten the hang of swimming. “Want to try swimming without my help?” “Huh?” Sonic looks at Shadow nervously. “Um, I don’t know…” Shadow smiles gently at Sonic, “You can do it.” Sonic nervously smiles back, “Ok, I trust you.” Shadow slowly lets go of Sonic and swims out a bit. “Try swimming to me.” Sonic slowly swims to Shadow, using the moves Shadow taught him. “I’m doing it! Shads, look, I’m swimming!” Seeing the pure joy on Sonic’s face was everything to Shadow.

When Sonic made it over to Shadow, he gave Sonic a small kiss on the lips. “Good job, you did great.” “All thanks to my amazing and handsome teacher.” Sonic gives Shadow a wink and Shadow just shakes his head with a smile on his face.

Time seems to go by fast as it was getting dark so everyone began to head home. Sonic and Shadow rode on Shadow’s motorcycle back home. Once they entered their house Sonic lets out a big yawn. “Man, all the swimming made me tired.” “Too tired for dinner?” Shadow teases. “I’m never too tired for your food!” Sonic runs into the kitchen.

After dinner the two retire to bed. As Sonic snuggles in Shadow’s arms he thought about going to the beach again, next time with just the two of them.

[theseshipsshallsail]

Chapter 1

The revelry from the bookstore leaves a heady buzz of la libertà flowing through their veins, and as the crescent moon climbs higher in a pin-pricked sky, Rome’s labyrinthine streets bear witness to the loss of their remaining inhibitions. Drunken kisses give way to drunken dancing - and unfortunate drunken vomiting - but the ancient cobbles are their compass on this ferragosto evening, steering them back to the complicit safety of their hotel. 

The stale scent of sex still lingers in the room, yet tempted as they are to add to it, the prospect of their imminent separation is a sobering force. Elio’s body is heavy with exhaustion. The oppressive tightness in his chest magnified by all that he’s trying to ignore. Their time is borrowed. Soon, all of this will be naught but memory. The man beside him nothing but a ghost. Haunting his every step with visions of a life denied. A future obfuscated by what-ifs and maybes.   

He refuses to sleep, however. Refuses to sacrifice a single minute to unconsciousness in spite of the grappa’s siren call. Absurd though it is, a part of him dreads waking up alone. That Oliver will disappear like a thief in the night - taking what’s left of his shattered heart with him. His guards are down - all his pretences stripped away - but here they are, stretched out on a too-small bed, solemn fingers caressing familiar skin. Worshipping each other by words, if not by the flesh. 

And it isn’t easy. Of course it isn’t. Elio’s an individuo reservato. A trait he’s uncomfortably aware of. But he can’t let that stop him from spilling his innermost thoughts. From divulging the things he wishes he’d done differently. Or not at all. In some aspects, he’s sure he’s repeating himself, but there’s just so much he needs Oliver to hear. Things he never dared tell him previously - never deemed vital - when the end of their summer idyll was a nebulous concept.  

Like how he’d leave the adjoining door open at night, hoping beyond hope that Oliver would walk through it. Or that afternoon at the tennis courts, when he’d recoiled from his massage for fear of leaning into the frisson of excitement. Needs him to understand his visceral reaction the morning after they first slept together. The crippling anxiety that twisted his intentions, necessitating a hasty - if short-lived - retreat. Wants to beg him not to forget. To remember everything. So that when next he tastes the salt-tang of the ocean upon his lips, the sweetness of apricot juice beneath a cloudless yonder, a piece of Elio - nevermind how fleeting - will slip into that parallel life, too.

All his secrets. 

All his worries. 

All he’s put off for later. 

A futile notion, admittedly, now that there is no later. 

No more chance for postponement. 

Thankfully, he isn’t the only one speaking, and Oliver lays his own regrets out like a hand of cards whenever he stumbles into a tongue-tied silence. His forearm is slung around his waist, their legs tangled at the knees, and Elio drowns in his eyes as he recalls the steely glares that once pierced him to the core, but which he now appreciates were a means of self-defence. An attempt to stave off the unavoidable.

“Did you mean it?” he whispers, twisting Oliver’s Star of David between his fingertips as he burrows into the sticky warmth of his neck. “When you said you’d been happy here?”

“How can you even ask me that?” 

“How can I not?” Elio replies, failing to control the tremor in his voice. “You tried to keep your distance when you arrived. It was me who sought you out. If I hadn’t pushed so hard -”

“I’d have probably spent ten more days kicking myself for my cowardice,” Oliver tells him, dropping kisses to his knuckles as though they’re something to be cherished. “Wearing holes in my espadrilles… trying to hide a semi each time you passed by in those swim trunks...”

Elio snorts. “The feeling’s mutual, mon ami.”

“So we’re both idiots, then?”

“Well… one of us was being purposefully difficult...”

“Goose,” Oliver growls, and Elio giggles despite himself when he’s tickled without mercy. “I’ll show you purposefully difficult.”

It soon devolves into a childish wrestling match, Elio’s wrists pinned above him as Oliver scrabbles along his sides, leaving him bow-taut and winded. “Tutto apposto! Enough!”

“You give?”

“I give,” he says, lungs heaving in his chest. “Dio… I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Nonsense.” Oliver rolls to the side, tipping his chin up to better meet his eyes. ”This is new to us both. It’s only natural to have doubts.”

Elio huffs. “Doubt is the father of inventions.”

“And may I ask what you’re inventing?”

An awkward shrug. “Nothing,” Elio says, afraid his misgivings will lead them down a destructive path. “And everything. You know how my brain works.”

“I do, yes.” Oliver brushes a thumb over his bottom lip. “Though for my sins, I’ve yet to find cause for complaint.”

“Déviant.” 

“Takes one to know one.”

Elio nips at the tormenting digit, not quite ready to let the subject go. “I want to hear it,” he murmurs, teeth scraping the nail. “I think I need to hear it.”

“Elio…”

“Just tell me,” he insists, and sighing, Oliver pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“It’s complicated.”

“Isn’t it always?” 

Impatience flares at the return of his evasiveness, and the remorse in Oliver’s gaze is immediate. “We never talked much about my family, did we?” he asks, and Elio shakes his head, shuffling closer as Oliver draws a shuddering breath. “My parents, they’re.... well. To describe them as traditional would be a kindness,” he continues. “Our relationship has been strained for years, but they have certain... expectations, I suppose. For my future, specifically. You know how it is.”

“Do I?” Elio asks, stiffening as I'm sure I'll pay for it somehow echoed from the not so distant past. 

The implication is clear, and maybe there are razor blades in his expression, because Oliver’s own turns instantly apologetic. “I guess not,” he says, sliding a conciliatory hand to his hip. “Do you have any idea how lucky you are?”

Elio frowns. “In what way?”

“With your folks,” Oliver explains. “My father would cart me off to a correctional facility.” A beat. “He still might.” 

“Only if he finds out,” his traitorous mouth blurts before his alleged genius can catch up, and Elio’s heart sinks. “But he won’t, will he?”

It’s less a question, more a statement, and Oliver’s jaw clenches as he stares at him in silent concession. “I wish things could be different.”

“I know,” Elio says, the words braver than the sentiment behind them. “Me too.”  

But the universe isn’t that lenient. Like Icarus, they’ve flown too near to the sun, and the consequences of such defiance will see their wings clipped once they crash back down to earth. He’d cautioned himself on the journey south to prepare for the blow. Peered out the grimy window of the direttissimo, knowing that when he next stands on the platform he’ll be alone. That he’ll hate it. Those rehearsals, it seems, have done little to dull the pain of what’s to come, and latent superstition has left him fumbling in the dark, regardless.

“E’ la vita,” Elio says, resorting to self-preservation as he dredges up a smile - the over-bright, false one he’s perfected through years of dinner drudgery. “Why risk it all for a bit of fun, right?”

“Don’t do that.” Apparently Elio’s not the only one who can see through a facade. “You mean more to me than some fling, and you know it.”

“But -” 

“No. Hear me out.” Earnest, Oliver smooths the hair from Elio’s temple. “These past six weeks… I don’t know how to describe how important they were to me. The freedom. The acceptance.” His throat bobs in the grey strokes of dawn. “You.”

“Me?” 

“Us.” Oliver fidgets with a loose thread on Elio’s shirt. “I meant it,” he mutters at last, winding an errant curl around the index finger of his other hand. “I have been happy here. I’ve been happy with you.” He hesitates. A quick flash of indecision. “I’m not sure I was ever really happy before you.” 

“Please don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Per carità! That only makes it worse,” Elio says, whirling away to hide in Oliver’s collar. The sour musk of sweat is soaked into the material, and he inhales deeply, hoarding every piece of him while he still can. “You are the very best parts of me,” he confesses, lifting his head. “I don’t know what I’ll do when -”

“Hey…” Oliver’s grip tightens. “Didn’t we go over this? You’ll be -”

“Fine. You said.”

“Clearly it bears repeating.” 

Elio touches his face. Watches the ripples of emotion spread out like a pebble cast into the lake. “And you?” he returns, recollecting that night on the rock. His naivety in presuming Oliver’s ghost wouldn’t always be staring out at the horizon. Rodin’s Thinker clad in billowy cotton. “You’ll be okay?”

A breath. “I’ll be okay.”

Elio’s not sure which of them he’s trying to convince, so he kisses him gently in lieu of examining it further, his stomach flipping when Oliver pulls back with an air of exquisite softness. “What time do we need to be at the airport?” he asks, seeking sanctuary in distraction. “You have your passport, sì?”

“I do,” Oliver says, studying him carefully. “The plane leaves at noon. But don’t feel you have to -” He stops. Swallows. Tries again. “You don’t have to see me off. Not if you don’t want -”

“I want.”

“Elio -”

“Non essere ridicolo. I’m coming,” he tells him, fighting a shiver as the cool breeze from the window brings goosebumps to his skin. “Of course I’m coming.” 

The relentless tick of the clock rings loud in the sudden silence, and Elio raises up on his elbow, only for Oliver to cup his cheek before he can turn towards the wall. 

“Don’t look,” he whispers, sounding choked as he double checks the time on his watch. “It’s ten minutes fast at any rate.”

“Ten minutes?” Elio laughs. Slightly unhinged. “What difference does that make? Ten? Twenty? You still have to leave.”

He detests the unspoken word that hovers between them. The entire phrase a sullen admission of weakness: you still have to leave me.

“Don’t think of it like that,” Oliver murmurs, one hand stroking the base of his spine. ”We have a few hours yet.” 

Elio sniffs. “Not like they’ll matter tomorrow.”

“Maybe not. But they matter right now.” Oliver nudges their foreheads together. “Every second, Elio.” 

“Every second, Elio,” he echoes numbly, if only to call him by his name one last time.

He’s shaking, he realises, though in all honesty he doesn’t care that his vulnerabilities are on display. That Oliver can see how lost in him he really is. That the situation is gutting him, and he’s unable to stop the bleeding. His chest feels concave. The space below his ribs too small to contain the sheer need and protectiveness that washes through him. He wants to shelter Oliver from the storm that lies ahead. To house him beneath his breast where the burdens of this world cannot touch him. Encapsulate everything Oliver is within the confines of himself, meagre as those confines might be.

But what can he do? Implore him to stay? Ask him to give up his doctorate? His career? His responsibilities? And for what? A life in the shadows? Always looking over their shoulders. Always that sense of shame.

He thinks of the pink and yellow lilies that bloom in the giardino back in B. The delicate petals that unfurl for such a brief period of time. There’s something recherché, he knows, in such transitory beauty, yet Elio’s never lacked for stubbornness. Oliver may believe his story is already written - that their destiny is forged in stone - but no one’s ever survived a freefall by continuing to spiral. 

For something so tragically temporary, their bond has left a permanent mark. And Elio? He wants to beat his fists against this odious ending until they’re bloodied and raw.

[heroloverangel]

Ice Cream

Ingenium will always be a great hero.

The parking lot is crowded when you arrive with your husband. It’s a warm day, and the new ice cream shop has a line stretching out the door into the grocery store’s sidewalk next door. You scan the list as you head towards the entrance and debate on whether you want chicken or beef tonight, and you’re distracted by two little girls running across the pavement with each other. The younger one looks about three, laughing wildly right up until she trips on a crack and tumbles to the ground directly in front of you. Her sister looks a bit older and immediately runs back to the crying girl, and you watch Tensei fall back into his role as a hero without a second thought.

“Are you alright?” He leans forward in his chair to look for any injuries. “What’s your name?”

“A-Ami. And she’s Miki.” she stammers through her tears, the bigger girl helping her to her feet and staring curiously at the pipes on his arms.

He smiles at them. “I’m Iida. Do you know where your parents are?” Miki nods at points at the line.

“Daddy said he’d get us ice cream if we were good and waited for him.”

“That’s nice of him. It looks like you scraped your knees, but I bet the ice cream will help.” He looks towards the shop and you can tell he’s trying to pick out their father. “I’m sure if you tell your dad, he’ll get you patched up and back to playing in no time. Can you tell me his name?”

The question is unnecessary as a man jogs towards you with a pair of ice cream cones, calling the girls’ names. “What are you two up to? I hope you’re not bothering these people.”

Miki shakes her head. “We’re not, I promise! Ami fell down and her knees are broke. But look, Daddy! Mr. Iida has funny metal on his arms just like the hero you told us about!” Their father finally turns his head and takes a good look at your husband, putting some facts together. The little girls take the opportunity to pull their treats out of his hands while he’s distracted.

“You’re not Ingenium by any chance, are you?”

Tensei nods. “I was, before I retired.”

He lets out a surprised laugh. “No kidding! I’m sure you don’t remember this, but about six years ago there was a bus crash in the middle of Naruhata. You’re the one who pulled me out and got me to the hospital.” He shakes his hand with enthusiasm. “If it weren’t for you…” He smiles and looks at his daughters, happily eating their ice cream without a thought to Ami’s skinned knees. “...my girls wouldn’t be here.” Ingenium, always such a laid back hero, waves off his praise but the man insists. “No really, I’d love to have a chat if you’ve got the time.”

Tensei glances at you and you gesture for him to go. “Stay a bit and talk. I can handle the produce section on my own.” You give him a pat on the shoulder and head inside. You remember to grab a few last minute items and make sure to stop by the pharmacy section for vitamins before you pay and rejoin his group. They’ve moved into the shade, and the girls are standing on either side of your husband asking questions as fast as their little mouths can move.

“Do your pipes turn on when you sneeze really hard?”

“Can you start a fire with them?”

“Do they rust when you go swimming?”

“Have you ever gone really really fast and hit a wall? I did that once. It hurts.”

You listen to them with a huge grin on your face for a few more minutes before you step in to rescue him. He tells them goodbye, shaking their father’s hand once again and heads for the car with you. Your grin widens when you realize you’re being followed by the delighted shouts of the girls thanking him for being such a great hero. You notice that the smile never leaves his face even once you get home and it warms you heart. He’s always been a little too humble and never did it for the praise, but it’s nice to get a solid reminder of all the good he’s done.

“Good day, huh?” He seems distracted and blinks at you for a moment before nodding. “Are you thinking about how adorable those girls were, too?” Tensei laughs and scratches the back of his neck, his thoughts too obvious.

“Yeah. You know, I’ve been thinking…” His gaze flicks from your face down to your stomach, and you can read his mind. You’ve been together for years now, and for the past few months you’ve been talking more seriously about the idea of kids. He’s made steady progress with his physical therapy, but the doctors have suggested that his injury could make things more difficult and you might need a bit of medical assistance to conceive. It’s a lot to think about, but you keep coming back to it more and more lately.

You stop and run your fingers through his dark hair. “I’ve actually been thinking, too. Will you grab that bag off the table for me?” He moves to hand you the bag but pauses when he looks down at the items inside. Iron supplements? Prenatal vitamins? A pregnancy test?

His eyes go wide as he stares back at you. “You’re pregnant?”

You laugh sheepishly. “Well, we’re about to find out.” The next ten minutes are the longest in your life as he steers you toward the bathroom and you’re forced to wait for the test. You’re not surprised when you see the result, but the sense of pure joy that wells up in you makes you feel like you might burst and you throw your arms around your husband’s shoulders. “It’s positive! Tensei, we’re having a baby!”

His expression mirrors your own and he pulls you in for a tight hug. At the moment, nothing else matters beyond your little growing family. You feel so lucky, knowing that your child has such an amazing hero to look up to.

[ciggylungz]

Pray to me

word count. 4,077

Warnings-like probably the most risky smut i’ve ever written, church sex, wild stuff (sorry)

Pray to me:

(A random little smutty one shot relating to my bad boy harry series, it’s not going to affect the story line so just imagine this is another au for my au that’s an au. I just gave myself a stroke writing that.)

__

Detention.

A ‘punishment’ Harry Styles was used to getting by now, he was in his third year of Catholic high school and to say he has gotten his fair share of detention slips is a gross understatement. You’d think being surrounded by crosses would help subdue his cursing yet Harry didn’t seem to inherit the same fear his classmates did by the ‘word of god’ that was crammed down his throat every day. So, it wasn’t exactly tolerated when the boy strung a slew of curses together to describe the head Priest, or when he got caught smoking spliffs in the boys bathroom when he was supposed to be in math and well, those choices led him to where he is now. Slouched in a pew whilst the head nun was giving him a proper tongue lashing and explaining to him that he was to clean the chapel from top to bottom, smooth any creased pages in the 300 bibles that were stacked in the rows of pews, get any gum off the under side of them as well and wipe down the stain glass windows. The school had called his mum to tell her he would be home very late that day knowing the job would take a solid 4 or 5 hours to complete and that’s if he rushed it. To say he was pissed was putting it lightly, yet the biggest shock was yet to come when he heard the heavy wooden doors open and slam again as another person shuffled inside.

“Miss Yln, you’re here. Mister Styles here can tell you the duties you both must complete, here are the keys lock the doors when you both are finished. We’ll expect to meet with you before mass tomorrow to get a proper apology once the work if finished. Right-o, chop chop kids.”

The grouchy wrinkle faced nun thrust the keys into an anxious Y/n’s hands while she shuffled her way towards the exit, giving a careless slam of the 20 pound doors causing both Harry and Y/n to flinch. Harry was genuinely surprised to see Y/n there with him, he’s used to seeing her at mass or in line at confessional but detention? That was a new one for her. He took his time standing from his seat, cracking his back and neck whilst he settled onto his feet, casting a curious glance at the girl who stuck out like a sore thumb in the somber hostile environment. He knew Y/n well, he considers her a friend which is rare since he’s not the friendliest of people around town. Yet he liked Y/n, she was cute as button and what teenage boy doesn’t find an innocent girl wearing a catholic school uniform appealing?

“well well well miss sunshine, what did you do to get yourself this torment?” Harry gave her the quick once over, using his typical teasing nickname for the girl just to get her cheeks to blush a bit and help lighten the mood. Y/n blew out a breath out through her plump glossed lips, subconsciously stomping her foot a bit in annoyance which Harry thought was funny, and also cute. “I accidentally said a bad word in class! James tricked me into saying it and Sister Amy heard and gave me detention.” Her pout grew further when the boy chuckled at her attitude. “How did he trick yeh into saying somethin’?” Y/n grunted a bit, very peeved and mentally hexing James for what his actions caused her, “He said hold your tongue while you say apple…” Harry at this point was letting out a belly laugh, just imagining Y/n’s face when she realized she’d said asshole and finding humor in how ditzy she could be sometimes. “You fell for that? Did you not have a childhood? I thought everyone knew that trick, hon” Y/n simply smacked his arm and tossed the keys onto the nearest surface. “Shush Harry” her little finger pointed at him, trying to be serious but he found it comical. His hands moved out to poke her sides, knowing exactly how ticklish she was feeling content as Y/n squirmed and squealed. Adorable giggles falling from her lips and making the chapel seem a bit less creepy, her tiny hands trying to push his biceps back to free herself from his tickling fingers. “Ah! Harry!-“ she was trying to speak between her laughs, the boy one year her senior smiled, dimples sinking into the flesh of his cheeks, “Dunno what you expected, love. You thought you could tell me to shush?! no one tells me to do princess.” “Okay! Okay I’m sorry! I take it back!” after what seemed like an eternity to Y/n, but was only a few ticks over a minute Harry finally let go, smiling down at her while he ruffled her hair chuckling to himself while she tried to straighten her uniform back out. “That was not a fair fight Harry, you had an unfair weight AND height advantage!” y/n stuck her tongue out at him. “Hey, you started it bossy pants. You’re lucky I didn’t throw yeh over m’ shoulder and tossed yeh around. You got off easy this time missy.”

Harry wasn’t typically so playful and relaxed, he couldn’t bring himself to be so cold around Y/n. How could he? She’s sunshine personified, the real version of the rhyme ‘sugar, spice and everything nice’.  The girl was the only thing that kept him from dropping out. Y/n makes day to day bullshit tolerable for him…and well she also has given her inspiration more than once when he couldn’t sleep at night and resorted to a quick wank while mumbling of dirty phrases topped off with her name to send him off to dreamland.

 _______________________________

After some more shenanigans, the pair got to work on their scheduled tasks.  Y/n had started in the bibles in the first 6 pews on the right side of the chapel while Harry dug through a supply closet to get a ladder out to wipe the windows. He was contemplating if he should pretend to fall and collect an insurance claim instead of actually cleaning the 12-foot art pieces but he decided against it by the time he found what he was looking for. After setting the ladder up and grabbing the giant duster Harry decided to take his first break, he knew he was just procrastinating but who cares? He decided during his break he’d get Y/n to take one with him. “Hey love, wanna take a fiver?” Y/n looked up from the 12th bible she had fixed giving him a frantic nod, her mind numb from the task she was busy doing.

“what do yeh wanna do?” she left the choice up to the older boy, watching as he bit his lip lightly in thought, shrugging and scooting in next to her. “truth or dare?” he wiggled his eyebrows tempting her and being the compliant and very bored girl, she was, Y/n agreed.

“Okay you first Harry, truth or dare?” the boy pondered for a moment before shrugging, “Truth” he didn’t miss the way she was fidgeting with her skirt all excited for the game. “Ok, have you ever uhmmmm got drunk?” her innocence laced her tone, genuine curiosity. Her voice slightly lowered as if what she was asking was naughty which of course got Harry to chuckle, “Yes, pretty much every weekend. You’ve never drank? Not even once, love?” his left eyebrow raised and she timidly shrugged “Nope, I only had wine at communion but then it’s only a sip. Never been drunk before…Okay your turn!” he hummed slightly, “Truth or dare y/n?” “uhhh dare!” at this point she was squirming in her seat from her giddiness, and Harry took full opportunity over the chance he had. “I dare you to kiss me.”

Y/n wasn’t exactly expecting that one. She thought maybe he’d dare her to say another bad word or smoke one of his cigarettes, but he wanted her to kiss him…and she was confused on why she wanted to. She didn’t want to say no, she had the urge to follow through with it. The girl noticed the butterflies in her stomach she was used to getting when around her older friend, and a blush crawled up her neck to her cheeks. Harry sat with an amused smirk, darting his tongue out to lick over his lips whilst tipping his head to the side slightly, “cat got your tongue, love? What are yeh waiting for?” a pointer finger was placed under her chin to get her to look at him, and y/n decided it was better to bite the bullet and pushed her thoughts out of the way while quickly leaning in to give him a peck.

Harry was surprised she actually did it, feeling her lips on his for a split second before she pulled away with a shy giggle yet he was having none of that. “uh uh, a real kiss” his natural dominance reared it’s head when he grabbed the girl and plopped her on his lap, holding her jaw and planting his lips on her’s yet again coaxing her to move with him. When she didn’t respond how he wanted he tugged her hair a bit, biting her bottom lip and dragging it down so her mouth was pried open, “Being a tease y/n, keep your mouth open wanna taste ya’”

y/n’s head was swimming, she’d never done anything like this but her body went weak under Harry’s rough hold and demanding voice and so she complied opening her mouth so his tongue could infiltrate. She wasn’t really skilled in the kissing department; she’d only kissed one person before and it was nothing like this. Harry didn’t mind her clumsy, clueless movements he found it even hotter that she didn’t know what she was doing and he was the one cracking away at her purity. His heart was pumping, his fingers tangled in her hair as he tugged her by it to get her to move where he wanted her, it was hot. So fucking hot.

When he finally pulled away from the kiss he observed her. Plump lips now a flushed red, swollen and slick with her lingering lip gloss and their mixed spit. She was breathing heavily, eyes staring into his darkening ones. She looked amazing. “God…pet you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to fuckin’ do that” his tongue darted out to lick over his own lips frowning when he got a heavy taste of sticky lip-gloss , “gotta get this off yeh, it’s too sticky” his sleeve was pulled down to cover his palm whilst he rubbed the remaining product off her delicious lips before shuffling it back up to bunch at his elbows. “There, look a little dazed petal. Yeh alright?” Y/n nodded quickly at the question, smiling a little bit before kissing his nose and each of his cheeks then going back to his lips mimicking how he’d kissed her prior. The boy could hardly contain himself, taking over the kiss and pulling her hands off his face holding both her wrists in one of his hands yanking them above her head so she was completely bound. “No no no, little love. I make the rules hon, you don’t. I didn’t say to kiss me again did i? I didn’t say you could touch me, hmm? Being a bit naughty aren’t yeh baby?”

To say she was overwhelmed and a tad confused was accurate, she had really no experience in any sort of sexual situations all she knew is she was going to listen to Harry. His gaze was enough to melt her into submission. “Words Y/n, did I tell you to do those things?” his grip on her wrist tightened a bit, “No….no you didn’t tell me to…” his eyes were staring into hers a subtle hum exiting his throat. “Good girl, now tell me your sorry.” “I’m sorry, Harry” an adorable pout decorated her lips, Harry was loving this.

He let go of her hands, both of them falling into her lap where she folded them, making sure to follow the new rule of not touching without permission, waiting for what was going to happen next. Only a moment later did Y/n feel Harry’s right thumb pressing into her bottom lip, eyes jumping to meet his, “open” she complied, letting him slip his thumb past her lips to rest on her tongue, “Close, now suck.”

Her confused gaze met his stern one while she started suckling on his digit. She didn’t really understand why he wanted her to suck his thumb, regardless she did it.

It was taking everything in Harry to not bend the girl over and shove himself inside her, god he fucking wanted to but he had something else in mind. Something more sinful than two teenagers having premarital sex in a chapel, no he wanted to give the biggest ‘fuck you’ he could to the school, and the ‘god’ he was forced to submit to. He knew if all the preaching’s were true, this idea was his first-class ticket straight to the devil’s doorstep.

“Listen princess, you’re going to do what I say, okay?” Y/n gave a quick nod of her head, Harry scooting her off his lap and removing his thumb from her mouth as he guided her up the steps to of the pulpit where the priest usually gave his sermons, a holy pedestal of sorts but today it would get a new use.

“on your knees.” It wasn’t a request, it was an order. Harry stood in the center of the pulpit, the religious art work surrounding them did little to stop his ‘sinful’ desires. Desires of the flesh were the only thing on his mind.

Y/n was on her knees before him, looking up at her friend who had a smug sultry look on his beautiful face. His hands fumbled with his belt whilst he looked down at her.

“you’re going to pray to me now, angel.”

Y/n couldn’t believe she was really in this situation, kneeling under the podium in the pulpit where she hears sermons 5 days a week for 3 hours with Harry pulling his cock out. when he finally managed to get himself free a loud groan echoed in the sanctuary, one that made Y/n feel a tingle between her legs and salivate slightly. A strange new sensation she couldn’t describe, but she knew she liked it.

“open your mouth, sweetheart.”

Y/n had never seen Harry’s eye’s look so dark, his tone so demanding and his breathing so heavy. His cock loomed over her face, bobbing slightly with every beat of his heart whilst something clear and sticky was leaking from the tiny slit in the top of it webbing onto the underside of his tip. She was nervous, but she did as she was told opening her sweet little mouth so the older boy could guide the crown of his cock into the warm cavern of her virgin mouth. The sensation was the closest thing to heavenly Harry had ever felt in this room, her mouth was warm and wet. Tongue slightly textured and slick with the nice, thick spit that comes from the back corners of your mouth. It’s better than any lube you can buy truly. He instructed her to suck his flesh, hollowing her cheeks and massaging his prick with the flesh of her mouth for the very first time in her life.

“Holy fucking shit, doll…you sure this is yeh first time? Good little cock sucker aren’t yeh? On your pretty knees, praying to me now huh?” Harry could see his cock pushing into the side of her cheek as she nodded, her mouth stuffed full of his leaking member, and because Harry was Harry and liked to really make a statement he decided if he was going to hell for this, he might as well make it worth it.

His fingers plucked one of the small wooden crosses off of the staircase on the pulpit, it was a decoration dedicated to Christ yet he had other plans for it.

The boy took a step back from Y/n, moaning slightly at the sight of her following after his cock when it started slipping from her lips. She wanted it, she liked it and god he fucking did too but he couldn’t wait any longer to execute the idea that just tumbled into his mind. Harry snapped his fingers in front of the drooly lipped girl, getting her attention on his eyes instead of the cock she wanted so desperately back in her mouth. “Up, don’t be greedy yeh can finish me off when I’m done with yeh..” Harry lifted the girl by her underarms up onto the flat part of the pedestal, where a bible was sat opened to a scripture that was suddenly smothered by the doe eyed girls round plump ass. Harry wishes he could dig his teeth into it but that’s for another time.

Y/n didn’t resist at all when he tipped her back a bit, hiking her skirt up and spreading her legs. The only reaction she gave at first was a quick gasp when he ripped her school tights right at the crotch her white cotton panties now in his view. “cute” was mumbled under his breath as he toyed with the tiny pink bow stitched into the waistband of her panties, but soon they were gone as well pushed fully to the side to expose her cunt, a small smattering of light curls at the apex of her thighs. They looked soft, light and quite cute. He could tell they’d never been shaven off before by how soft they were, wasn’t a very course or thick section of hair. That was likely to come later in her life, but for now her cunt was the only thing he was willing to worship in the holy home of Christ.

“Fuckin’ beautiful…got a real nice little pussy, angel.” Y/n was past the point of being shy now, she was spread eagle perched on top of a open bible with her cunt on full display in front of her half naked friend. Modesty flew out the door a while ago. And so, she responded in a little whine and shimmy of her hips, feeling the cold air lapping at her hot center and cooling the slick that had collected between her folds that she didn’t even notice till now.

The boy thought he might have been in the midst of one of his wet dreams, the stereotypical catholic school girl splayed out in a chapel with his hungry eyes staring at her virgin cunt. He was trying his hardest to take a mental picture so he can relive this the next time he has a wank, but in this moment his plan was coming to fruition.

Harry held up the small wooden cross, holding it between his thumb and pointer finger. The piece of religious art was about as wide around as a taper candle and maybe a good 4 inches from the base to where it met the divider of the cross. Much smaller than his cock, but a good size to fuck his classmate with.

“Open.” His voice doomed after the stretch of silence, Y/n letting her lips fall open again gurgling a bit as the wooden cross was thrust into her mouth. Harry was purposefully being rough, pushing her gag reflex intentionally, “Gag on it, get it nice and wet. Do as I say y/n, m’ getting’ yeh throat to slick it up. Could shove it in yeh dry be glad I’m lubing it up pet.” With a few more jabs at her uvula the boy was content with the amount of thick spit that dripped down the object.

Y/n couldn’t help but squirm and mewl, feeling Harry split her labia. An audible clicking sound fell on their ears from the wetness adhering the folds of skin together, the sound gave a boost to his already prominent smirk. Once her engorged clit came into view Harry made a point to give it a few strong strokes with his thumb before pressing the end of the cross into the girl’s virgin opening. The sight was nothing short of filthy, completely sinful. He wouldn’t be surprised if the floor caved in and they fell straight to hell as he finally managed to press through her thin hymen gaining entry to the untouched inners of the girl.

The stinging caused Y/n to hiss slightly, her legs quivering as he finally made it inside her. A small streak of her purity stood out against the white wood. Harry couldn’t help but snicker to himself, he thought of Virgin Mary in this moment. Ironic right? The first thought into his mind when seeing Y/n’s virginal blood striping a cross was how this was a strange twist on the story of the savior’s mother.

His movements sped up considerably after the flimsy membrane of resistance was punctured. The cross now being plunged in and out of the girl’s sacred spot in quick succession while she gripped the railing behind her in an effort not to tumble off the stand.

“Would yeh look at that, might be the first girl in this school to get fucked with a cross, baby. Always knew you were special huh?” Harry migrated his hand down to thumb at her clit, the foreign sensation of something inside of her and a massaging of her pleasure organ had the girl pigeon toed and panting. Harry swears he’s never seen anything hotter than what he was doing in this moment. His arm was getting tired but he didn’t dare fucking stop. No, he decided he was going to violate the artwork until Y/n had her first orgasm clamping onto the now not so holy figurine.

Y/n could barely form a thought, pleasure wracking through her body and a strange sensation building inside of her. Harry mumbling filth to her was the icing on the cake, her body tipping over the edge. Her body went stiff before breaking out into shakes, vocal cords strained from the moans and yelps escaping her throat. Her first ever orgasm was the most intense feeling she had ever felt, and Harry almost came just watching her suddenly remembering his abandoned cock.

Y/n was scrambling to regain control over her body, pushing Harry’s wrists away with a slick popping noise following as the cross was removed from her body. Harry leaned down to kiss the panting girl, dribbling spit into her open mouth while she gasped for air. “good girl, you’re such a good girl.” His ring clad fingers pet her cheek lightly, the other hand sitting her up and tugging her forward giving her a shove to get her back onto her knees.

“Now, time to finish your prayer, love” His hand pushed his cock back into the cavern of her mouth, she suckled hard on him. Tongue lapping at the underside of his cock, suction hard on the crown of him. The way she gave harsh spongy movements of her tongue and cheeks had his knees weak having to hold himself up on the podium. “Shit, Christ pet I’m gonna cum”.

Harry felt his climax rapidly approaching, taking both of his hands and putting them on the back of her head forcing the entirety of his cock down the girls sore throat. The muscles already tired from all the noise she made with it, but she only dug her fingers into his thighs as he spilled down her tight throat.

Harsh breathing along with Harry’s pleasured chuckle were the only noises filling the room as the pair removed themselves from each other. Harry getting his control back, putting his cock away before pulling Y/n to her feet giving her a few smacking kisses as he helped straighten her out tossing her ruined tights into the trashcan.

“Think we took more than a fiver babe, guess we gotta finish now huh?”

His smirk was wide while he put the cross right back in it’s place, cum still dripping off of it.

[alexa-crowe]

Trying

Rated T | Alternate Universe | @today-in-fic

As I sense is becoming a theme, Jake and Amy from Brooklyn Nine-Nine are the inspiration for this MSR fic. This conversation was the catalyst; the scenes in this fic are taken heavily from B99’s “Trying” (7.06) and “Casecation” (6.12), as well as TXF’s “Per Manum” flashbacks. This fic is set in an alternate universe.

—

They’ve been trying for exactly nine months, now. Mulder knows this because Scully keeps detailed calendars marking the specifics of it all and on the fifth day of the month nine months ago, they agreed to start trying to have a baby.

He’s bouncing his leg, waiting for Scully to get back from the bathroom with the latest test result. He heard a flush a few minutes ago, so any second now... The door to their bathroom—one that has two sinks, a bath, and a shower because she insisted—opens with a creak.

Mulder watches as she stands completely still in the doorway, looking down at the stick. “It didn’t take, did it?” he inquires, but he already knows the answer.

Scully sniffles, her face starting to crumble, and he immediately makes his way over to her, bringing her into his embrace. She wraps her arms around him, burying her face in his chest as she tries to stop herself from crying.

“It feels like it’s too much to hope for, Mulder,” she says, clutching at him amidst her sea of tears.

“Hey, hey, it’s only been nine tries, honey. Sometimes—sometimes it takes a while. We knew that going in.” Mulder strokes the back of her head, pressing a kiss to the crown.

“Yeah, but... I feel like everyone else in my life has kids, and—and I—I can’t even get pregnant with one. What am I supposed to do with my life if I’m not a mother?”

“Oh, Scully, don’t say that. You’d still be my wife... You’d still be an award-winning neurosurgeon... Even if we don’t get pregnant the old-fashioned naked-pretzel way...” He trails off as she lets out a choked laugh. “...we can try IVF, or adoption. So you’re going to be a mother no matter what, Scully. It doesn’t define you as a person, either, whether or not we conceive. You’re amazing, all day every day.”

She sniffles again and leans away from Mulder, a tremulous smile on her lips. “I know. I just...really want this. I mean, I’ve spent my whole life knowing that I was going to have kids one day, and it’s just sort of hitting now that it’s been—”

“—nine months since we started trying,” he says with her. “And if it worked the first time, we would be nearly full term.”

Scully loses a battle and the tremulous little smile falls from her face as she nods and steps away to grab some tissues. “I can’t help but wonder if there’s something wrong with me, you know? Not—not physically, but... Is this some sort of punishment from God? Is he telling me that I’m not good enough to be a mother?” Another tear streaks down her cheek.

“Dana, look at me,” Mulder implores, cupping her cheeks and forcing her to look up at him. “You’ve done nothing wrong. You’re not being punished for any perceived sins, it’s just science.”

“Science,” she repeats, glancing between his eyes.

“Yes. Science. And science says that, since we’re both healthy thirty-somethings, we’re bound to get pregnant eventually.”

Scully nods and lets him enfold her in his arms again. “I don’t know if I want to keep trying,” she whispers, nuzzling her face further into his chest.

“What?”

“I can’t keep doing this, Mulder. Even if it’s not some sort of punishment and it’s just science, I...I can’t keep looking at the negative results on these tests.” She starts to cry again, muffling her sobs against Mulder’s shirt. “I just want a baby... Is that so much to ask for?”

“No... No, it’s not.”

—

One Year Ago.

“You must be the Mulders, Dana and Fox!” Mark greets, just as handsome as Ellen had described to Scully over the phone. “Welcome, welcome. Congratulations.” He leads them into the spacious living area in his and Ellen’s new house, where a handful of people are lounging. Mulder and Scully sit down on one of the couches and wave as Mark introduces them. “We heard that you’re newlyweds. Where’d you honeymoon?”

Scully, painfully aware of Mulder’s hand possessively resting on her hip, tells a little bit of their trip to his family’s beach house, the name of which she can never pronounce. She gets cut off when her godson rushes into the room and over to Mark, whispering into his step-father’s ear.

“Alright,” Mark says, before turning him around to face Mulder and Scully. “Go say hi to Dana and Fox and then ask Mommy in the kitchen.”

“Hi, Auntie Dana. Hi, Mr. Fox.” The young boy waves and bolts off to the kitchen.

“Ah, kids. Gotta love ‘em,” Mark sighs with a smile. “Are you two planning on having any of your own?”

“Uh, yeah,” Scully answers. “We’re gonna start trying soon. I’m so glad I’ve found the perfect person to make children with.”

She smiles bashfully at Mulder and a split second later, he reciprocates.

“Dinner’s ready!” Ellen calls from the kitchen, and everyone files into the dining room.

On the way there, he catches Scully by the wrist and pulls her aside. “What was that back there?” he hisses at her, leaning so close to her face that she’s sure his back is going to hurt later.

“What do you mean?” she asks, looking up at him incredulously.

“You just lied to Mark!”

“What!? No I didn’t! What the hell are you talking about?”

He tilts his head and raises his brows. “You don’t—? Scully, you told him that we’re going to try to get pregnant soon!”

“Of course I did! I told him the truth! Why are you acting like we didn’t decide this already!?”

“We didn’t!” Mulder hisses.

“What!? You don’t remember!? I showed you a picture of Matthew swimming in the Pacific on his birthday a few months ago and I said, ‘We should do this,’ and you said, ‘Definitely, I’ll set aside some money!’”

“I was talking about a trip to San Diego! You were talking about having a baby!?”

“Yes!”

“Oh my God.”

Scully groans softly and rubs her temples. “This isn’t the place. Let’s talk about this later.”

“Yeah...”

—

The drive home is tense and silent. Not a word is spoken until they shed their coats and sit down on Mulder’s transplanted leather couch. “You don’t want children,” Scully states, hands folded primly in her lap.

He sighs and rubs his hands over his face. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Well, I do. And I can’t just sit around and wait until you do know.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Scully. Am I getting in the way? Why don’t you just get up and leave if I’m of no use to you, then? God knows everyone else has.”

“Mulder—” she started, voice much softer.

“I’m sorry that I can’t give you what you want.”

“Mulder...”

“I’m sorry that I have no idea how to be a father.”

“Mulder, stop!” Scully insisted, looking distressed, and they finally made eye contact. “Is that what you’re worried about? Whether or not you’d be a good father?”

Mulder is silent for a moment before he sighs and nods. “Yeah,” he admits, averting his eyes.

“Oh, honey... You’d be a great father. I wouldn’t want to have kids with you if I thought otherwise.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Well, um... I don’t think having a baby is out of the question. I just...I don’t know if I’m ready, yet. It’s all so sudden, you know? Can we wait a few months? And then we can talk about trying. I—I need to get used to the idea of being a dad.”

“Yeah, of course.” Scully rubs his back with a small smile on her face, and it grows wider when Mulder turns his head to look at her.

“We can start looking at baby names, if you want. We’ll have to come up with something cooler than ‘Fox’, though.”

They both laugh at that, leaning into each other’s embraces.

—

Present Day.

“Scully, I think that we need to take a break from trying for a while,” Mulder says, getting situated behind her in bed. “Focus on ourselves, okay?” She nods. “Remember how we met?”

Scully smiles, entwining her fingers with his over her abdomen. “Yeah. You, the rugged child psychologist; me, the savvy pediatric neurosurgeon.”

“We argued our way through Christine’s treatment.” Mulder nuzzles the side of her face, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“That it did.”

They’re both silent for a while. “Mulder?”

“Yes?”

“I want...” Scully swallows heavily. “Can we have sex tonight? For us.”

He slides his hand lower, crowding his body against hers. “Of course.”

—

Ten Months Earlier.

His wife’s been short-tempered all day with him, only talking to him about their intersecting patient, Patrick. Mulder finally corners Scully in her office as she’s packing up.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” he asks, leaning against the door with his arms crossed.

“I’m fine,” she says sharply, and he sighs heavily.

“Are you really pulling that shit again? To me, of all people?”

Scully’s facing away from him, parsing through the filing cabinets behind her desk; she stops at his words, sliding the drawer shut before leaning her forehead against the metal storage unit. That’s when he hears her start to cry.

“Oh, Scully, honey... C’mere.” Mulder walks around her desk and wraps an arm around her, giving her a nudge to accept his embrace. She does, wrapping her arms around his neck as she starts sobbing in earnest. “Did something happen to one of your patients? What’s wrong?”

Scully shakes her head and continues to cry for a few minutes. When the tears have slowed down, she sniffs and pulls away to grab some tissues and blow her nose. “No. I mean, I’ve been handling a high-intensity patient all week, as you know, so there’s that. But I—” She has to stop and blow her nose again. She meets his gaze afterwards. “I think I might be pregnant. My period’s late—I was supposed to get it a week ago. And we agreed to wait a few months so I’m scared that if I am pregnant that you won’t be ready and that everything will go to shit and I love you too much for that and—”

Mulder cups her cheeks and runs the pads of his thumbs over her lips. “It’s okay,” he tells her, voice impossibly soft. “It’s okay.”

She sniffles. “Really?”

He smiles tremulously. “Really.” She sighs heavily and pulls him in for a long hug. “Come on, let’s go home. We can stop by a store and buy some tests. Whether or not you’re pregnant, we’ll be okay.”

“Okay,” she sighs.

—

The test comes back negative so Scully musters a smile and tosses the stick away as she walks to the kitchen. “What do you want for dinner?”

They don’t talk about it until they’re getting ready for bed and she won’t meet Mulder’s eyes.

“Scully?” he starts over the sound of her electric toothbrush.

“Hm.”

“Can I tell you something?”

She leans over and spits, turning off the toothbrush before wiping her face clean. “Of course,” Scully replies, placing the brush in its stand.

“I, uh...” Mulder fumbles, and she looks up at him. “I...I was a little bit—well, actually, a lot a bit—disappointed that the test came back negative.” He’s gazing at his wife’s flyaway baby hairs instead of her eyes.

“You were?”

“Yeah.”

Scully takes his hand and leads him to sit on the edge of the bed together. “Is it safe to assume you know that I was, too?”

He nods with a small laugh, entwining their fingers when it fades. “Do...do you want to start trying? I think I’m ready now.”

She lets out a soft gasp, her eyes filling with tears. “You mean it?”

“Yeah,” Mulder replies, voice impossibly soft. “I’m ready.” He brings his hand to her lips with a smile that lights up his eyes.

Scully lets out a tearful laugh before cupping his cheeks and pulling him in for a kiss.

—

Present Day, 5 Weeks Later.

Mulder jogs through the halls of the hospital until he finds Scully’s room number and bursts inside, breathless. “Scully, baby, what happened? You collapsed—you had a nosebleed? Are you alright?”

She nods, a smile on her face. Scully doesn’t look as sick as he’d feared, he notices, smoothing her hair back and tucking it behind her ears. “Does this have anything to do with how you’ve been feeling these past couple of weeks?” Mulder cautiously asks, sitting down in the chair behind him.

He moves it closer to her bedside as Scully’s smile turns into a grin. “I’m pregnant, Mulder.”

“Oh—my God, you are?” She nods. “You are! Oh, Scully...” He starts to cry as he gathers his wife into his arms as much as possible, and Scully does the same.

“We did it, Mulder,” she says, pressing a kiss to his head. “We did it.”

“Oh, I was so worried,” Mulder admits, sniffling as he lets her go and adjusts in the chair. “What did the doctors say?”

“Prenatal vitamins and a less strenuous workload. I have to drop my patient load from seven to five, and go from there. I’ll have to hand off a couple kids but I know just who to ask.”

“I’m glad.” Mulder clasps her hand and brings it to his lips. “I’m ready for this, Scully. Well, as ready as anyone can be.”

“Me, too, Mulder. Me, too.”