#the error warnings are a quiet desperation and all of its effort is going into finding SecUnit

[shadelorde]

Perihelion having an Even Worse Time

(This drawing is based on how the infection manifested physically for TargetControlSystem and how it might feel to be entangled and infected by it - much more abstract but it’s meant to convey the feeling of something so massive being trapped so thoroughly)

[simpforbbarnes]

Dust and Destiny pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnex x Stark!reader

Summary : Bucky Barnes and you used to be lovers , madly in love . But you lost him in the blip and lost him again after the blip because he need to “find himself.

Warning : nothing maybe just a little bit ofself-harm ( almost) , kissing , sexual tension

This is my first time ever writing something , im sorry for all the grammatical error and if this doesnt makes any sense :(

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

—————————————————————

The Ending Beginning

You weren’t supposed to care. That was the plan. The chaos is unstoppable . The war between your dad and Steve is so so so bad.

He was the enemy, wasn’t he? At least, that’s what your dad said. That’s what the government said. But when you looked into his eyes, those stormy blues filled with ghosts and guilt, something in you shifted.

“Stay down, Stark,” Bucky Barnes growled, standing between you and Steve. His metal arm whirred as he raised it in defense, ready for whatever came next.

You wiped the blood from your lip, grinning through the sting. “You think I listen to people just because they tell me to?”

Steve sighed. “Can we not do this right now?”

“Tell your best friend to stop throwing punches,” you shot back, rolling your shoulders.

Bucky’s jaw clenched. He looked at you, really looked at you, like he was trying to solve a puzzle he hadn’t meant to pick up. Your heart was racing, but it wasn’t from the fight.

Something told you this wouldn’t be the last time he’d look at you like that.

And you was right.

Enemies to lovers is real because if its not what is you and Bucky now ? The past few months was rough for both of you , but in between all the chaos , you two found yourself in each other.

It wasn’t easy.

Bucky was a walking storm cloud, haunted and hesitant, but for some reason, he let you in. Late-night talks, stolen moments , the way he’d glance at you like he was terrified and desperate all at once. He never said the words, but he didn’t have to.

“I’m dangerous, Stark,” he warned you once.

You only smiled, reaching for his gloved hand. “Good thing I like a little danger.”

It happened on a quiet night, somewhere in Wakanda.

You weren’t supposed to be there, not technically. Bucky was still in recovery, working through his demons in the peaceful solitude Shuri had gifted him. But you had never been good at following rules, and he had never been good at resisting you.

The night was warm, the air thick with the scent of wildflowers and rain. You sat beside him, staring at the stars, both of you pretending you weren’t feeling the inevitable pull between you.

“You should go,” Bucky murmured, though he made no effort to move away.

You turned to him, studying the sharp lines of his face, the way the moonlight softened his usually hard expression. “Do you want me to?”

His jaw worked, fingers twitching in the dirt. “…No.”

So you stayed.

When his lips finally found yours, it wasn’t hesitant, it was hungry. Desperate. Like he had been starving for something only you could give him. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deeper.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered against your skin, voice shaking.

You didn’t.

That night, you traced every scar, every story written into his skin. He kissed every place you had ever been hurt, like he could erase your past and rewrite it with him. It wasn’t just sex. It was everything. A silent promise, a declaration, a surrender.

“I love you,” you breathed, and he froze.

For a moment, you thought he’d pull away. Thought you’d ruined everything.

But then he kissed you again, harder this time, like he was trying to memorize the words through your lips. “I love you too,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

It was the first time he had ever said it. The first time he had let himself have something, have you.

And it was the last time before the war took him from you.

………

The battlefield was chaos.

Screams. Explosions. The earth trembling beneath your feet. You didn’t know where the sky ended and the blood-soaked ground began. All you knew was that Bucky was still by your side, fighting like hell.

“We’ve had worse days, right?” you panted, dodging a blast as you shot down an alien soldier.

Bucky grunted, slamming his vibranium arm into a creature’s skull. “Remind me when this was ever a good day.”

You smirked, but the fear in your chest never left. This wasn’t like anything you’d faced before. It felt like the end of the world.

Then you saw Thor fall.

You saw Steve struggling, Tony barely keeping up.

And you saw Thanos.

“We have to stop him,” you breathed, but Bucky grabbed your wrist before you could move.

“Hey.” His grip was firm, grounding you in the chaos. “We do this together.”

Together.

You fought like you had trained for this moment your entire life. Back to back, covering each other, Bucky’s gunfire and raw strength matched with your speed and precision. Every time he so much as stumbled, you were there. And every time you wavered, he was the one keeping you standing.

Then the snap happened.

A blinding wave of energy surged through the battlefield, and for a moment, the war stopped.

Your ears rang. Your breath hitched.

Something was wrong.

You turned to Bucky, just in time to watch his fingers begin to disintegrate.

“No—no, no, no—”

His eyes met yours, wide and terrified. “Doll—”

Then he was gone.

Gone before you could reach him. Gone before you could hold him. Gone before you could tell him one more time that you loved him.

The dust settled, and you collapsed to your knees, choking on a sob that never ended.

He was gone.

……..

The compound had never been this quiet.

Not since the Snap. Not since half the universe had turned to dust, taking the people you loved with it.

You barely ate. You barely spoke.

Tony tried. He tried so hard. But no amount of joking, no amount of gentle nudging or tough love could reach you.

“Kid,” he murmured one night, leaning against the doorway of your room. “You gotta stop this.”

Steve and Natasha followed him behind.

You didn’t look up. Couldn’t. You were sitting on the floor, knees pulled to your chest, staring blankly at the flickering blue light of the holo-screen in your hands. It was a loop of footage, grainy, chaotic battle footage from Wakanda.

And there he was.

Bucky.

Frozen in a moment that felt like it had happened just yesterday and a lifetime ago. He was mid-motion, gun raised, hair whipping in the wind. You kept replaying the clip, over and over, watching him move. Watching him exist.

Because in real life, he didn’t anymore.

“Come on,” Tony pressed, softer this time. “Let’s go get some food. Maybe even real food. I’ll let you pick. No green smoothies, I swear.”

You didn’t respond. Didn’t even blink.

His sigh was heavy. “You know, at some point, you’re gonna have to—”

“Stop.” Your voice cracked.

Tony stiffened, his expression faltering.

“Just… stop.” Your fingers clenched around the holo-screen. “Don’t you get it? He’s gone.”

“I know,” Tony said quietly. “I know, kid.”

You shook your head. He didn’t know. No one did.

You felt it happening, the snap inside you, the grief morphing into something darker, something dangerous. Your breaths came faster, your vision blurring.

And then you shattered.

You shot to your feet and screamed.

A sound so raw and agonized that it barely felt human. You grabbed the nearest thing; your holo-screen and hurled it at the wall. It shattered on impact, sparks flying, but it wasn’t enough.

Nothing was enough.

You ripped books from shelves, knocked over equipment, sent anything and everything crashing to the floor. If you could destroy everything, maybe—maybe..

“Hey, HEY—”

Tony and Steve grabbed you before you could go any further, arms locking around you, trying to still you.

“Let me GO!” you thrashed, fists pounding against Tony’s chest. “Let me go!”

But he didn’t. He just held you.

And then, finally, you broke down completely.

Your sobs came in heaving, shuddering gasps, body going limp against your father’s chest. You clutched at his shirt like it was the only thing tethering you to reality, your entire frame trembling.

Tony didn’t say anything. He just held you tighter, pressing a hand to the back of your head, his own voice thick with emotion.

“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I know.”

But he didn’t.

Because Bucky was gone.

And you weren’t sure you’d ever come back from it.

…….

Five years.

Five years of existing in a world that no longer felt like your own. Five years of waking up to the same emptiness. Five years of fighting battles that didn’t matter, because the only one you wanted to fight for was gone.

And then…. hope.

A sliver of it. A possibility so small, so fragile, that it felt like a dream.

“We might have a way to bring them back.”

Bruce had said the words, and the world tilted.

You barely heard the rest of the explanation, something about quantum realms, time travel, the stones. You didn’t care.

All you cared about was one thing.

Bucky.

You sat in the room, staring at the holo-screen where the plan was being laid out, but all you could hear was the deafening pounding of your own heartbeat.

“You okay?” Nat’s voice was soft beside you.

You blinked, forcing yourself back to the present. You nodded once. “I’m fine.”

She didn’t believe you. No one did. But no one questioned it, because they all knew.

You would do anything to get him back.

Even if it meant dying in the process.

The team argued. There were risks. If they failed, if the timeline fractured, if something worse happened…

You didn’t care.

“I’ll go,” you said before anyone could even try to stop you.

Tony froze. “No. Absolutely not.”

You turned to him, jaw clenched. “You need someone to go back? Someone fast, someone strong? Someone who won’t fuck it up?” You stared him down. “Then it’s me.”

Tony’s eyes darkened. “We’ll find another way.”

“There isn’t another way!” Your voice cracked. “This is it, Dad. This is the only shot we have, and if you think for one second that I won’t take it, then you don’t know me at all.” His jaw tightened.

“Y/N…” Steve started, voice low.

But you shook your head. “I lost him.” Your throat burned. “And I’ll be damned if I don’t at least try to bring him back.”

Tony exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “You could die.”

“I already feel like I did.”

That was the truth of it. The past five years had been nothing but a slow, like watching a train wreck in slow motion. If this mission killed you? Fine. As long as it worked.

As long as it brought him back.

The room fell silent.

Then Tony sighed, long and heavy. His shoulders sagged, like he was carrying the weight of the world. “You’re just like your mother, you know that?”

You swallowed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It wasn’t.” He shook his head. “Fine. You’re in.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

Because for the first time in five years

You had hope. Hope and living with purpose.

….

The battle was over.

Thanos was gone. The universe was restored.

And Bucky… Bucky was back.

You had barely registered the chaos of the fight once you saw him. He had returned in the same place he had left, stepping through a portal with the others, his rifle in hand, his face a mix of determination and confusion.

But none of that mattered.

Because he was there.

Your Bucky is here

You had fought harder than ever before, your body running on nothing but adrenaline and desperation. You had made sure he was safe, fought by his side, did everything in your power to make sure you wouldn’t lose him again.

And now, it was over.

The dust was settling. The battlefield was quiet. And you were alive.

You found him after everything. He was standing alone near the ruins of the compound, looking out at the horizon like he wasn’t sure this was real.

Your breath hitched.

“Bucky.”

He turned.

And when his eyes met yours, those same eyes you had memorized, the ones you had dreamed about for five agonizing years. You broke.

You ran to him.

He barely had time to react before you crashed into him, arms wrapping around his neck, holding onto him like if you let go, he would disappear all over again.

His arms came around you, crushing you against him, and you could feel how much he had missed you. The way his hands gripped you, the way his face buried into your shoulder, like he needed to convince himself that you were real.

“You came back,” you choked. “You fucking came back.”

His breath shuddered against your skin. “I didn’t mean to leave.”

Tears burned your eyes. “I waited for you.”

“I know.” His arms tightened. “I know, doll. I—” He swallowed hard. “I missed you.”

The weight in your chest eased for the first time in five years. This was it. This was your moment. You had him back.

But then, he pulled away. And you knew.

You knew before he even said it. Your stomach twisted. “Bucky?”

His expression was pained. “I—I can’t do this. Not yet.”The world tilted.

“What?” Your voice came out small.

Bucky’s jaw clenched. He looked away for a moment, like he was struggling to find the words. “I need to figure out who I am. What I am. Five years passed for you, but for me, it was just—” He exhaled. “I need time.”

Your hands trembled. “Time?”

His gaze met yours again, and there was so much emotion in his eyes; regret, longing, love, but also hesitation.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said softly.

Your heart cracked.

“Hurt me?” A bitter laugh escaped you. “You were gone, Bucky. You were dead. And I was the one who had to live with it.”

His expression twisted in pain. “I know.”

“No, you don’t.” Your voice shook. “Because if you did, you wouldn’t be doing this.”

Silence.

You stepped back. Your hands clenched at your sides. “I risked everything to bring you back.” Your throat tightened. “And now you’re leaving again?”

Bucky’s eyes burned with emotion. “I have to.”

A sharp, broken breath left your lips. “Right.” You swallowed down the sob threatening to escape. “Then go.”

His brows furrowed. “Doll—”

“Go, Bucky.”

He hesitated. His lips parted, like he wanted to say something, anything ,to make this better.

But there was nothing. And so, he turned. And you watched him walk away.

Just when you thought you had found your happy ending—

You lost him all over again.

When you thought you just about to find your beginning all over again , you was wrong.

It was the ending.

[moodymisty]

Author's note: What are you gonna do? Kinkshame me?

Relationship: Mortarion/Fem!Reader (to call it a relationship is kind of a stretch you only have his last name cause the vet paperwork requires it)

Warnings: NSFW, Nonnegotiable pet play (hampter), Degradation, Dehumanization, Kidnapping(?) Stockholm syndrome, Brief mention of reader having enough hair to put into a hair tie, Collar and leash, I dunno this is weird, This is totally unrelated to the Morty and his hot wife fic as much as his (future)wife would be down for being his pet, Inspired by @lemon-russ and her Mortarion pet fic series <3 and by inspired I mean like half of this fic is the exact fucking same cause i had trouble with the last half

The festering, bloated form of the Imperium was good for something, Mortarion thought.

Logistical tasks were nightmarish beyond all belief, shipments of requisitioned goods sent from place to place in the thousands if not millions. Many shipments disappeared outright; A planet now without food, a desperate front line without weapons. Efforts doomed purely on logistical error due to the sheer amount of traffic having to be handled.

It made slipping things between the cracks quite easy, however.

The box in Mortarion's hands is small by his standards, but for a human it would be quite sizable. They had offered to bring it to his quarters but he instantly refused, and Garro reiterated to the serfs that no one- including his own men- were to be near let alone in his quarters.

Not anymore.

When he enters the privacy of his chambers his shoulders relax slightly, and he hears the soft jingle of thin metal. It's quiet now- it used to be far louder but now that your cage is a bright display of plush blankets and toys, only weight on the exterior of the cage, and the metal of your collar, create any noise.

He smiles at the wide, excited look in your eyes, your fingers wrapped around the thin bars as you rise to your knees. The little dress you wear is still clean but a decent bit wrinkled, an array of lace and frills.

He'll have to change it; Along with a myriad of other chores he'll need to go after leaving you alone for so long.

"How are you, my little pet?"

You perk up and eagerly watch as he comes to let you out, but not too eagerly.

He doesn't like when you yelp and rattle the bars. He always wants you to be quiet above all else, especially during living hours.

"I have some new things for you, excited? Sit, and I'll show them to you."

You obediently listen legs curled to one side and nod, watching as he lowers himself to the floor on one knee. He grimaces and his bones crack and pop, but he manages. You look at him a bit worried, but you know he'll be fine.

You always love when he gets new things for you; New blankets, new pillows, new toys. Whenever things break he's always quick to get you new ones. It's so exciting to see what wonderful and colorful things he gets you from all of the places he's been, stuffing your life so full of plushness, soft fabrics and pastels.

The corner of his bedchambers your cage is in far more filled that it was when you'd first arrived, stuffed with spare things and little lights. If you were to just look at him, it would be almost funny; How lively and cute your home is in comparison to himself. His desk directly adjacent to you is solid wood, covered in burns, stains, and various bottles and jars.

In the moment it's nice, the free food, the blankets, the security; But when you think about it, its...

It's humiliating.

Degrading.

You feel less than human, though you suppose that's his intent; If anyone you knew ever saw you like this crawling around on all fours like a-

If any were alive.

Your planet was vicious, unforgiving. How you'd survived as long as you had was a miracle. To live there was to scavenge and fight for day to day survival, no thinking of the long term. You don't know if anyone you knew has even survived in few months you've been gone.

Has it been months?

Here, you're showered in plush toys and blankets, bowls and bowls of food. By a primarch no less. You were plucked from the sky by a being that from the sparse teachings of your forgotten planet was a man of incomprehensible power, a military of thousands at his disposal.

You even have a heating pad; Mortarion keeps the switch within your grasp after you wouldn't stop whining for him to turn it on.

For all intents and purposes, you're pampered. You are his pet, but you're safe, well taken care of, and loved.

It could be worse.

...could it?

You are still fully cognizant of that past life, before him. But why would you yearn for it's return- to a nightmare of struggle and fighting- when here, you're pampered and pet and fed until you're plump? You don't have to worry about anything. Your primarch does it all for you. Here you can sleep in a warm bed, eat your food and wait until master he returns and you can get some time out to stretch and play.

If you're very good, and he doesn't have any duties that take away his time, he'll let you sleep on his bed with him- not complaining when you crawl up to lay your head on his thigh.

He's been busy for a few days now, multiple nights you haven't seen him leaving you alone in the dark. It gets lonely, but you're patient- napping in your bed or playing with the myriad of toys he's given you. They keep you busy, but your little mind always wanders back to worrying if he's left you forever.

Reaching for the latch of your cage he undoes it and chuckles as you eagerly crawl to the entrance, almost visibly vibrating from excitement.

It's been days, and now he's going to let you out! You struggle to contain the excitement.

He opens the box and briefly shows you a peek of the things he's gotten you, before he gets distracted by something else.

"Your hair is such a mess. Come out."

He doesn't put a leash on you, letting you come out and stretch your legs a bit before getting back down. He sits at his desk, and motions for you to come by hitting his thigh.

When you do so, he begins to undo the tie in your hair and try to redo it. You wince a bit and move, earning a grunt of displeasure from him that turns into a mild coughing fit. Once he's finished coughing and clears his throat, he speaks at you.

"Stop wiggling."

You try to hold perfectly still as he fixes your hair, styling it the way he likes it. Sleeping in your bed for the past few days has made it messy, and you didn't have the tools to fix it yourself. Master does it for you anyways. He does it the way it should be, same with your clothes.

When he's almost done, he gestures for you to turn around so he can judge his own handiwork.

Something on his desk however begins making noise, and he looks in it's direction with no small amount of disdain. When he looks back at you, he grips your jaw and mushes your cheeks upward. It doesn't hurt, but it is a bit uncomfortable.

"Be quiet."

You nod- at least as best as you can.

He lets go of you and reaches to touch the device, and a voice starts talking.

"My primarch, Lord Fulgrim is attempting to vox you."

He lets out a loud sigh, clearing his throat once again. The dry scratchiness of it is palpable.

"Is it important?"

The man on the other side makes a contemplative noise, while Mortarion's rough skin brushes against the little hairs just in front of your ear. You tilt your head in the hopes he'll keep doing it.

"Lord Fulgrim did not specify when asked."

Mortarion pets you just a bit harder.

"...Let him through."

There's silence for a moment, before the voice acknowledges Mortarion and cuts away. A different voice fills the air a few moments later.

"Leaving Terra so soon Mortarion?"

The voice is smooth, melodic, and amused at Mortarion's expense. You continue to kneel silently between his legs. You lean against his calf a bit, lazily looking up at him. He looks down at you as he talks.

"I have many things that require my attention far more than your stupid parties, Fulgrim."

The voice on the other side chuckles, smooth and music-like.

"Fair enough. Guilliman and Lion were the same." He huffs before speaking again. "You think any of them would even miss my presence?

You perk up, but remain totally silent.

You missed him!

You missed every moment he was gone. Your cheek pushes against his leg harder in an attempt to show your thoughts without words, wrapping your arms around his calf, and he rewards you with a brush along your cheek. You smile happily.

"Probably not, though I could say that about more of the primarchs than just you." The voice quiets for a moment before speaking again. "Safe travels, Mortarion."

The voice is gone now and Mortarion returns his full focus to you, so you assume it's safe to make noise; Though you don't just in case.

"Good girl. You behaved." He looks at you. "Want a treat?"

A treat? Everything he gives you is so yummy, you nod and eagerly await whatever he's giving you. He gets up for a moment to retrieve it, before handing it to you.

You've tried taking food from his hands before, but he prefers if you just eat it from his fingers.

You take the treat, the yummy flavor hitting your tongue the moment your lips pull away from his fingers. There's a small something a bit hard in the middle, but you just chew through it. It doesn't effect the flavor in any noticeable way.

While you do, he latches your leash on the d-ring of your collar. You don't complain, just watching curiously as you chew your treat. He stands a few moments later, the leash wrapped around his hand.

"Come here."

You move to where he's going before the leash has a chance to snap taut, crawling onto his bed and onto his lap when he ushers you there.

"Did you miss me? It's been a few days."

You eagerly nod, hands gripping the fabric of his tunic. His lap is too big for you to straddle outright, so you straddle one of his thighs instead. When he raises that thigh, you instantly whimper at the feeling of pressure on your core. He sighs.

"Only a few days and you're already pent up again."

He sounds almost irritated, but he's quick to push around the fabric of your little dress to press his fingers against your cunt.

He toys and fiddles with your folds until they're nice and slick, whimpering in his grasp and trying to grind harder on his hand. Once he's done playing with you, he undoes the ties of his trousers to pull out his cock. It's half hard,

He leans back, pushing you until you almost straddle his hips and his cock lays rising between your thighs.

"Go on, pet."

You're so beyond pent up, even the toys he gives you weren't enough in the days he was busy. So it isn't long of grinding your sloppy cunt along his shaft before you're desperately trying to shove it inside of you, your master watching keenly as you move about awkwardly.

After only a minute or so of sliding up and down his cock do you feel a shudder run through you as a small orgasm rides up your spine, whining and biting your lip. Just the act of slipping him inside of you and feeling the stretch was so much, sinking into your tight heat. Your hands grip the material of his clothes tightly as he coughs, trying to hold them in enough to not be too loud for you.

"Poor pet, do you need more things to keep you busy while I'm gone?"

He mumbles something under his breath, something about an implant, but you're too busy trying to fuck yourself on him to really understand what he's mumbling about through the wet, sloppy noises.

It probably isn't stuff you should care about anyways. He handles all the complicated stuff, you just enjoy the things he gives you.

He tugs on the leash once, and you feel the fabric dig into the nape of your neck as you're pulled forward. You're beginning to tire, hips aching and sore. You slow down and grind down on him, groaning between your breaths.

"Do I spoil you too much? Are you getting lazy?"

No! You aren't lazy, just tired. Your mouth hangs slightly agape open mouth breathing, as he watches you.

"Keep going, pet."

You try and gather enough strength to continue, feeling his cock shift inside of you. His groans are louder and he accidentally begins pulling on your leash as he tries to steady himself with his arms, pulling you a bit forward as he finishes inside of you. The warmth and the feeling of his hips bucking up into you and jostling you around is what pulls another orgasm from you, whining over the sound of his groans.

After a few moments he slowly pulls from you, and you clench around nothing at the hollow ache, and feel some of his cum slip from you and dribble onto his cock.

He's quiet for a moment, before he sighs. You perk up expectantly waiting for what he has to say.

"You can sleep out tonight."

Your excitement is explosive, stretching your back with a squeak he finds endearingly cute. He needs to clean your cage he says, after a few days of not letting you out, the blankets are wrinkled and food crumbs are dusted around. Some of your toys need to be refilled with whatever treat was inside of them or some of another variety cleaned entirely, a thought that fills you with joy.

He lays a blanket on the foot of his bed, one of yours, and you move to sit on it and watch as he goes to change his clothes for sleep. When he returns and climbs into his bed, you watch eagerly before crawling closer.

You curl up next to his left thigh, laying your cheek against it. You look up at him and see the hollowness of his features.

He's so ghostly, yet he treats you so well. You've tasted and seen things you never knew existed.

Life...

It could be worse.

You could be scavenging for scraps- now you're curled up on your master's bed.

He reaches down and brushes his hand across the top of your head a few times, petting you. You push into his hand in a way that makes him chuckle.

"Good girl."

[jiikyu]

Taste of Marigolds In Bloom

Herb of the Sun — Or Marigold was often used during the Middle Ages as a love charm. Carrying one of these brightly colored flowers was thought to bring love.

Though be warned for they are also poisonous.

Chapter I. You find a lost girl in Musutafu, unknowingly the experience ends up being a life changing encounter. Be it for better or for worse.

∘◦ ✿ ◦∘

All characters are 18+

Yandere!Mirio x Fem!Reader(AΩβ)

Y/N = Your Name

F/N = Your Full Name

E/C = Eye Color

H/C = Hair Color

Warnings: Yandere/Unhealthy Behavior + A large dose of sweetness in the beginning :)

Next Chapter Here❦

∘◦ ✿ ◦∘

Rounding the corner brings yet another flashing sign desperately trying to catch your attention. It’s noon and Musutafus streets are at their peak, narrow pavement overflowing with bodies. Winding your way through the mobs as you make your way to the small cafe.

You are meeting a friend in celebration.

With the perfect combination of brisk fall air and the sun warming your cheeks with kisses you ignore the tugging of your heart attempting to weigh you down. 

You had done it. 

Somehow you had qualified for the transfer over to U.A.

Though, it may not be the course you had dreamed of as a child  — Being born quirkless had made that impossible — It’s a celebration none the less! One you were more than excited to share with your friends.

Even if deep down you know you don’t deserve the transfer. 

You had hoped for the fresh air to be soothing before your meet up... But with the streets busier than ever the constant bumping of shoulders and bags is starting to take an edge on the nerves you’ve managed to keep under wraps.

Maybe it’s nothing, maybe it’s just your damned Omega instincts acting up, but the crowd just isn’t appealing anymore. A moment away from the constant onslaught is all you need.

Finding your way through the living maze to where you know Musutafus Park sits overlooking the city streets. The park is a well known treasure, covered in playgrounds and fountains it’s quite popular for tourist, it’s crown jewel however is the All Might statue centering it. Even local food stands patrol its borders for customers. 

Just standing at the Parks sidewalk already leaves you with a calm.

That’s before you notice you are not the only one away from the packed crowd. Out of the corner of your eye you see the small figure, something you would have never payed attention too normally but something about the image just doesn’t sit right. 

A young girl with silver waist length hair she stares unmoving at the edge of the amalgamation of people. You cannot help but notice the way her small hands clutch together, or the way her eyes follow each passerby, one by one. Almost as if looking for something — No, looking for someone.

Your blood freezes.

You’re probably wrong. Her family probably knows exactly where she is and they’re coming for her right now. Probably... You’ve already begun to make your way towards her.

You make sure to stop a few feet away before making yourself noticed.

“Hi.” Your voice is gentle, so much so it almost gets swept away in the noise of the city. And for a moment you think it had but her crimson strawberry eyes turn to you in acknowledgement before returning to the mob, refusing to look away. Your suspicions only grows at her behavior and you know you have to continue.

“My name is F/N. I go to U.A.”

At the mention of U.A. she turns to you fully... And you see the spark of hope in her eyes, though it only lasts a second before returning to one of caution. It’s strange for someone so young to have such a strong sense of perception. It has the alarm bells in your head growing louder. 

All your studies and practiced lines start racing through your head.

“Here! I have my I.D. with me!” Reaching for your bag you fumble to grab your student I.D., once in hand you make sure to hold it out for her to inspect. “You can call me Y/N, what’s your name?”

The girl gives a long moments pause, looking between you and your picture printed on the plastic carefully before whispering a response. 

“Eri.”

“That’s a pretty name.” You smile. “Do you know where your parents are Eri?”

“I don’t... live with my parents.”

Well shit.

Your classes hadn’t prepared you for this. What do you even say to that? Luckily you don’t have to wrack your brain too much before the lost girl continues.

“I was with my friend before I-I got lost in the crowd.” The girls hands fidget together nervously, lip quivering. “It’s... it’s just that I know he must be so worried right now.”

Her eyes begin to well with tears.

“It’s gonna be okay!” The words slide off your tongue without thought.

It is?

“We can wait for your friend here, how does that sound?” Eri stares at you with big strawberry eyes and you can only pray you sound as confident as the actors in movies. Not even close. Ignoring the thrumming of your heart you give your best smile. The girl gives a shaky nod before reaching up a hand to messily wipe away the moisture from her eyes.

...

You haven’t even waited a full five minutes before you notice Eri staring at something that isn’t the crowd. Not thirty feet away is a concession stand covered in pictures of sweets. 

“I’m kinda hungry...” You lie. “Do you want something from that stand over there?”

Eri’s crimson teardrop eyes shoot up at you beaming. “That s-sounds good.”

∘◦ ✿ ◦∘

At least some luck finds your favor.

You walk right up to the register without having to wait in a line. Asking Eri what she’d like her small finger points to cursive words of the chalkboard menu.

Caramel Apple.

The concession worker hands the ruby red fruit to Eri’s waiting hand. She stares at it with childlike wonder before saying her third quiet ‘Thank you.’ and you then proceed to give your third ‘No need to say thanks!’.

You both take a seat on the open bench besides the food stand. A good vantage point to watch the endlessly moving crowds of people... Subconsciously your teeth find themselves digging into the wall of your cheek. Staring at the horde, it becomes all too clear just how hopeless your efforts are.

Had you made the wrong choice? Yes. Every second that passes is further proof of your error. You should call the authorities now...

You are not a real hero.

A heavy sigh leaves you. Gentle breeze moves through your hair, using the hand currently not holding your own sticky apple to tuck H/C locks behind a ear. You have yet to even take a bite of the your waiting apple before the unexpected happens. Absentmindedly looking over Eri’s head of silver strands you see a figure most definitely sprinting towards the two of you. And you think your heart just about stops in surprise.

“Eri!”

The young girls head swivels to the direction of the mans cry. Noticing how she visibly lights up your shoulders lose a bit of the suddenly built-up tension.

“Mirio!” Eri leaps from the bench abandoning your side to meet the person you can only assume to be Mirio. Unconsciously you stand as well, finding yourself puzzled by the sudden urge to stay by her side.

The man stops his marathon to get down on one knee, arms outspread to meet Eri. She runs holding her caramelized apple high above her head flying into the embrace, making sure not to get the sweet stuck in his sunshine blond hair.

You hadn’t even noticed how your feet moved on their own and now your standing just out of reach, just incase...

“I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry Eri! I looked everywhere!” The man sobs into the hug. You watch Eri’s small hand reach up and pat his shoulder in consolation. The blond pulls away from the hug to properly look at Eri. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay! Y/N helped me.”

At her words Mirios soft blue eyes fall to the next closet person.

You.

You take this as your cue to further approach, taking a step towards the two you notice it. The aroma of sandalwood and seashore reaches your nose, tied together by a sharp hint of lemongrass. The natural scent radiates off the blond man, but it doesn’t assault your senses, most likely with the help of blockers. You’re painfully familiar with suppressants and blockers, taking your own prescription that dulls your own scent and helps with heats. These days it’s uncommon to meet someone that doesn’t use some form of blocker, even patches or daily gummies are enough to take the edge away from hormones.

Even you have to admit it’s a rather comforting scent for an Alpha of his stature. One would have to be blind to not see he’s built like a brick house, well-defined muscles barely hide under the thin material of a white tee. And when he stands... It’s clear he towers over you. 

A little unnerved by the size difference but you still want to be there for Eri, incase she needs you. Just as you open your mouth to speak your words fall silent. The blond having leaned forward, bowing his head towards you. 

“Thank you so much for looking after Eri! I take full responsibility for not keeping a better eye on her in the crowd.”  Mirio says this with while facing the concrete below, and you stare blankly for probably a little too long.

Oh.

“It was no trouble for me, really!” Unsure how to accept the show of gratitude you try to wriggle your way out. “It’s just, I go to U.A. and all... But I think it’s something anyone would have done.”

Mirio straightens his back at that, mouth forming an ‘o’ shape in surprise before turning to a hopeful smile, palm wiping away the moisture of his eyes. “You go to U.A?”

“Yes, but it’s nothing fancy-“ Your hand rubs the back of your neck sheepishly and your eyes are suddenly trained to the ground. Already feeling shame heat your skin at the prospect of admitting the course you somehow managed to snag in Japan’s most prestigious Hero School. “-I’m in the business course... I’m actually quirkless.”

You end your statement with a fake laugh, like it’s some kind of joke.

The joke must’ve landed flat because there’s only silence and you swear you hear your pulse quicken. Afraid to look up from the hole your eyes currently burn into the leather of your shoe. Afraid to see judgment. Steeling yourself for the worst you look up...

Deep pools of blue stare back at you, overflowing with warmth and wonderment — It almost takes you aback. Something swims just under the surface of those ocean eyes though you’re to dazed to notice. Mirio breaks the spell you’ve fallen under with a heartfelt grin.

“I think that’s something really special Y/N.” Those words just about short circuit the wiring of your brain. “That, there’s so many hero’s with quirks it’s easy to just let someone else step in and take care of the situation.”

“So I can’t thank you enough for taking care of Eri. For being the one to step in and save her.” His large hand pats the top the girls head, ruffling the silver locks playfully, the corners of her mouth upturning to a shy smile. “And for fixing my mistake.”

You’re completely at a loss, for words, for thoughts. It’s like this man just read your emotions and there’s nothing you can say.

So you don’t.

Instead a tear rolls down your cheek and your vision begins to blur at the corners. Promises of an oncoming flood.

Mirios smile falls.

You barely notice him take the first step towards you, a whimper threatening to escape your throat in anticipation of contact, but it never comes. The Alpha having stopped just out your reach, large hand twitching at his side. He doesn’t touch you. Instead the smell of tidal waves and wood flares to life. A soothing gesture usually done between courting mates, bonded pairs or the pacifying of a child. All of which you are none. Regardless you respond to it without thought, finding yourself calmed by the sea you’re able to take a breath. After realizing what he’d done you waste no time in hiding the evidence of the tear by smearing it under your thumb. Crushing it.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” His voice sounds genuinely pained and you wonder... Had he used his scent subconsciously or consciously?

“No, I’m sorry.” You’re embarrassed at your own weakness. What a terrible display. “I should get going.”

“Are you okay?” Eri’s small voice breaks your thoughts, still holding the uneaten ruby apple in one hand.

“I’m fine don’t worry. I’m sorry Eri, I forgot I’m meeting a friend today, but I’m so glad I got to meet you.” You say crouching to her level, saying your next words in a quieter childish tone. “Just make sure Mirio doesn’t lose you again!”

It’s meant as a tease but there’s some concern bled into the jab and the young girl nods her head in all seriousness.

“Bye Y/N!” Eri, the shy girl, gifts you a smile before grabbing Mirios hand, her digits dwarfed by his own. “Thank you for the apple!”

Standing you notice Mirio hasn’t moved an inch away from you. You may have only just met but the Alpha appears to be lost in thought. Soft features resting frozen, thick brows knitted together in concentration, as if... Noticing your eyes on him he drops the look in one smooth motion, giving you just about the brightest smile you’ve ever seen.

“We’re not gonna make the same mistake, right Eri?” The blond gives a reassuring squeeze to the girls hand and she returns the gesture by tightening her grip. Mirio shoots a goofy thumbs-up in your direction before turning away, Eri following at the hip.

His last words are spoken with his back to you. “Thanks again Y/N. I hope we see each other again at U.A.”

Wait does that mean...

Mirio attends the same school as you?

“Y-yeah!” The reply barely leaves your tongue. The whole situation may have scrambled your brain but you can’t help the warm smile that stretches over your features.

Watching the two disappear into the dying crowd you feel your phone vibrate in your back pocket. Grabbing the device you lightly tap the home button to see...

Nine unread texts and three missed calls?

How had you not noticed your phone going off like crazy? Your friend is going to kill you.

∘◦ ✿ ◦∘

And you had missed it.

Missed the way ocean blue eyes sought you out one last time before getting lost in the sea of strangers.

[jincherie]

florescence | v

❀ — pairing: taehyung x reader x seokjin ❀ — genre: hybrid au, hybrid tae, hybrid jin, poly au, fluff, smut (future), angst ❀ — words: 6.8k+ ❀ — rating: sfw ❀ — warnings: a pinch of angst, some hurt n comfort, and a teensy bit of risque content towards the end.... yay for scenting!! ❀ — notes: There was a fair bit that I changed in this one so part way through i ran into a bit of a block-- gradually, I pushed through!!! here is the next part uwu, I dont have anything written after this so the next update may take a while. (also, for anyone still having trouble with this, I did add a read more)

Okay, so maybe you’re lonely, and maybe there is something missing in your life, a void that you maybe want to fill with a companion that may or may not be of human origin… You’re perfectly content not doing anything about it though, until your best friend calls you in desperate need for your help and you suddenly end up coming home with not one, but two hybrids that may or may not have been on the way to the chopping block had you not taken them in. They’re more than a little rough around the edges, and the situation is less than ideal but… maybe the best things don’t always come in perfect, shiny packages. Maybe they just need a little time to bloom.

— posted; 11.03.2020 // masterlist || prev. | next.

When you wake up, you feel so well-rested that you almost completely forget what troubled your heart the night prior. Almost. As soon as you sit up and your gaze flits over the window, weather uncharacteristically gloomy, you recall what has been troubling you the past week and a bit and all of a sudden you can physically feel your mood drop. Right.

Well— you attempt to stop the spiral before it can really begin— today is your chance to make things right. You have the whole day off! That, for one thing, is sure to cheer the boys up a little bit. If they’re still not in the best of spirits, like you feel they might be, then you have the whole day to come up with a plan.

Yawning and scratching your head, allowing yourself a moment of indulgence before you get up to dive into the day headfirst, you attempt to bolster your confidence at least a little. With a little perseverance, you can do this!

You can do it! x   x   x

You can’t do it.

You thought that you’d be able to keep a cheery mood going, that you’d be able to cling to some optimism, but as it turns out you were somewhat wrong and this situation as it is now at around midday has your glass looking half-empty.

You’d gone about your normal routine after getting up; showering and then cooking and cleaning a little. To your surprise, the boys hadn’t come out to beg and plead with you at all. Even as their behaviour in the evenings changed during the past week and a bit, their behaviour in the mornings never did. So, understandably, this new development filled you with an icky feeling that stuck to the sides of your stomach like tar. You need to figure out what you’re doing that’s actually upsetting them, but attempting to pull the answer out of them is like pulling teeth. And with nothing but the barest hints to go off, you don’t really know where to even begin your online search, either.

So, halfway through the day and already almost at your wits end, you suppose the only way to go now is trial and error.

Off the top of your head, there are only a few things you can think of that might be bothering them.  

First, there are the insecurities they have that you’re already aware about. You don’t think this is actually the only thing bothering them, but you have a gut feeling that it has something to do with it. Each day they spent in the labs after their creation, under the technical label of ‘failure’, clearly took its toll on them. They only had each other there, and you know that the men you met while picking them up would have done their best to take care of them but as employees in that institution there is a line that they couldn’t ever cross to really give them the comfort they needed. So you know that Seokjin and Taehyung both were deemed ‘failures’ within their batches, exceptions, and you know that this knowledge has brought forth entire complexes around inferiority and worth within them.

Knowing this, it has you wondering if those complexes are leading the two of them to feel as though they’re being slowly pushed aside, or as though they have become a second thought to you. They most definitely haven’t, but with their background you wouldn’t be too surprised if that is a conclusion they have come to. You really want them to know and understand that they are a part of your home now, but you also know it’s going to be hard to get them to that point.

Regardless, it’s difficult to know what is actually wrong with them without being able to talk to them, and as the morning goes on they prove persistent in their efforts to ignore and avoid you. It irks you and upsets you at the same time, but still you do your best to be understanding. They’re not going to come out and have breakfast for as long as you’re in the kitchen, so you make the slightly wounding decision to return to your room for a while so they have a chance to at least eat. Taking care of them from the shadows it is—you leave some eggs and toast on plates for them before you retreat further into the house in the direction of your room.

You really wish that for situations like this there was someone you could just ask who would have all the answers you want and more—not many of your friends know that you even have hybrids, though, and Seulgi is probably at work still. Plus, she’d probably just tell you to look it up yourse— oh!!

You have the internet!

Honestly you’re not surprised it’s taken you this long to realise you could just look it up instead of lamenting and stewing in your own confusion and worry. Flopped across you bed, you pull your phone up and get to work. ‘hybrids upset with me’ is the first thing you intuitively type, and it brings forth an array of results. As one might expect, about 30% of them are actually relevant to what you want. You open a promising-looking one and begin to read.

“When instilling absolute obedience in wayward hybrids, it is expected that at first there will be a little backlash and they may react in an upset manner. A firm hand and unrelenting—”

Well, you click out of that one faster than you can blink. A closer look at the site name, perfectingyourpet.com, makes you realise you really should have inspected it a little bit more finely before opening it earlier.

Back on the search results page, you skim over the rest of them with a more scrutinising eye. It takes you a while before you actually open one that isn’t a run-around or an instant dead end.

‘Just like their animal counterparts, hybrids can become stressed and unhappy from a number of things that we often don’t think of from a human standpoint. Certain foods, environments, smells—the littlest thing can sometimes impact your hybrid companion’s happiness.’

Now that you’re reading this and really thinking about it, that makes a lot of sense. You aren’t sure how you haven’t been coming to these conclusions much earlier, and feel a little stupid and ashamed.

Chastised, you read a little further, soaking up as much information as you can, leaving the things you think aren’t very applicable for your situation. Towards the end, you admittedly skim it a bit, but to be fair that is just because you’re antsy to get started on fixing whatever has fallen through between you and the boys.

Some of the causes of stress this site tells you about are things you don’t think you have to worry about – yelling, fighting, having lots of guests come through and an always busy house. You definitely don’t have to worry about those. But then, when you read through the others, nothing is really clicking into place like this, this is it. You aren’t sure as to the cause still but at least you have something to go off now, even if it will be a process of elimination and learning by error.

One of the first things the site says, in addition to those you didn’t really think were relevant, is that it could be something in the diet, the environment, or a smell—or any change really. Branching off of that thought has you realising that it’s possible your big faux pas here is that you introduced such a big change – you going to work for a few hours a day – so suddenly and abruptly. From what you’re reading, it’s more than likely unsettled them and made them feel a bit insecure in their positions once more.

So, as your first attempt to make things right, you’re going to do your best to include them all over again. With a sigh you rise from your bed and attempt to steel yourself before making your way back into the kitchen, your fingers crossed that they have at least come out to eat something.

You’re quiet in your movements, and you think that is largely what allows you to catch the two elusive hybrids in the kitchen as they chow through the breakfast you left for them. It makes you happy to see they’re still eating what you make, but still sad to know they refuse to do it in your presence.

“Good morning,” you greet softly, leaning against the doorframe.

You hadn’t meant to startle them, but that’s what you end up doing. Seokjin, who had been looking through the fridge (most likely in search of some juice), jumps in fright, one yelp escaping before he bumps his head on a shelf and another, louder one follows it. Taehyung doesn’t make any noise, but you see him jump in his spot by the bench, whipping around to face you with wide eyes and a mouth full of eggs.

It’s an odd mix of emotions that cross their faces, prefaced by a wash of guilt and then a myriad of others you don’t manage to catch in time. They’re still upset, but clearly seeing you has weakened their defences slightly. You quickly take advantage of it.

“I’m glad you’re up and about,” you say, shooting them both a smile and doing your best to make sure none of the hurt seeps through. “I was thinking we could all do something together today!”

Surprise is what greets you as they stare at you, then at each other. Seokjin voices their thoughts, “You don’t have work today?”

From just behind him, you can catch his tail beginning to sway in cautious anticipation. His ears are slightly lowered, as are Taehyung’s, but they perk up when you answer them with a shake of your head.

“I don’t,” you affirm, feeling slightly bolstered by their response. “So I was thinking we could do something… maybe go out to the park? Or a café? Or—”

Their ears flatten and its obvious they’re not too into that idea, surprisingly. You really thought that would be something they’d love! You quickly backtrack. “Or, we could just cuddle on the couch and watch Netflix…? Seokjin, that zombie show you like had another season added.”

At that, they seem much more enthusiastic. Seokjin’s tail begins to wag a little more heartily, if still somewhat tentative.

“Already?” he asks, eyes wide. “Oh that’s good, they left it on a cliffhanger last season.”

The few moments after he finishes speaking are almost awkward, but you step in before they can get to that point.

“Perfect, did you want to watch that now?” You pose the question, before recalling that you’d caught them in the middle of stuffing their faces. “I mean, after you’re done eating of course.”

“Yes!” Seokjin nearly yaps in his excitement, the mood of the two hybrids seeming to have taken a complete 180 now that they know they have your time all to themselves today. You wonder if the ‘cuddling’ aspect had much to do with it, since you’d noticed their eyes light up when you’d mentioned it earlier.

You turn your gaze to the side, and when you see Taehyung looking just as excited, you offer them a bright smile. “Great, well you guys finish up and I’ll wait in the living room. I’ll get it all set up.”

Both of their tails are wagging as you turn and make your way to the room in question, and you feel significantly lighter than you have all week. You just need to bond with them a little more, assure them of their place with you and that you care for them. You were too dramatic earlier, you can do this!

Going around the living room, you end up setting up the couch like a makeshift nest, their comfort the main thing on your mind. Netflix is on and loaded, and you tidy things just a bit in the extra time you have before you hear the two hybrids approaching the room.

They’re excited, you can tell from the second you catch sight of them. Taehyung especially looks like he’s trying not to smile too big, but his tail is whirring a mile a minute behind him.

Seokjin picks up the remote, before turning to you. “You sit down first.”

Apparently it slipped out before he’d realised, because in the next second his face flushes and he hurries to correct himself at how demanding he feared he sounded. “I mean, uh… please. So we can, um….”

He doesn’t have to finish for you to know what he wants. More often than not, the two of them wait until you seat yourself so that they then can flop down and curl around you. Smiling at Seokjin to let him know it’s okay, you sit in the middle of the couch and wait. Well, you don’t even have to wait—as soon as your ass touches the seat the two hybrids dive for a spot on either side of you, nestling against you, the blankets, and the couch.

Their actions stir up butterflies in your stomach and you have to marvel at yourself—wow, you’ve really gotten quite touch starved because of this whole ordeal, haven’t you? That’s kind of embarrassing…

Seokjin swings his legs over your lap and Taehyung presses his body to your side, head on your shoulder. You can feel his large hands fisting the material of your shirt needily, oblivious to the way he brushes the underside of your breast with the action. You ignore the skipped heartbeat that results and pretend it didn’t even happen. That’s a dangerous rabbit hole to go down if you follow that thought.

“What are we watching?” you ask, reaching a hand up to play with the curls at the back of Taehyung’s neck. His grip on your shirt tightens and he presses closer before the tension leaves his body completely, and he lets out the faintest noise in satisfaction. You’d do the same to Seokjin but his higher level functioning ceases when you play with his hair and you kind of want a response.

“This?” he proposes, eyes on the screen. You follow his gaze and watch the preview that’s played for you. “I added it to the list but haven’t, um… haven’t gotten to watch it yet.”

“If it’s what you wanna watch, put it on,” you reassure him, holding your hand out for the remote. He sees your hand and his cheeks warm—you wonder why before the answer follows, and he places his hand in yours, threading your fingers together.

You don’t even have the heart to tell him that you were asking for the remote, especially now that you feel your own face burning. God, what are these two doing to your heart today?!

What Seokjin chose seems to be some new anime with alternate styling to what you’re used to seeing, the mode of animation different but quite cool. Unfortunately, you only get to watch about a minute of it before something disrupts the peace and content beginning to settle over the room.

Knocking. On your door. It’s light but sharp and very persistent. Seokjin pauses the show, confused but alert.

“Who on Earth…?” you murmur to yourself, regrettably rising from the couch and parting from the warmth of the hybrids. There is an odd weight on your side as you stand, and you don’t realise that Taehyung has risen with you, clinging to your side, until you take a step and he bumps into you by accident.

Endeared by the way he dons a sheepish smile, you accept his company and make your way to the front door, wondering who on earth would even be making the effort to visit you on your day off. Rustling sounds from the couch, but you figure it’s just Seokjin getting comfortable and preparing to wait.

“Just a second!” you call out when the knocking stops, worrying the culprit is leaving. Did you order anything recently? Are you expecting anyone and just forgot? You really don’t think so. Taehyung trails after you, connected only by his loose grip on the bottom of your shirt.

You could have peaked out of the peep hole, but you don’t, going straight to opening the door instead. The figure waiting on the other side makes you halt in surprise. Taehyung shoots ramrod straight behind you.

“What are you doing here, rude cat?” you ask in surprise after a moment, teasing nickname tacked on by default. Changkyun gives you a borderline dirty look, but doesn’t speak for a moment- his attention is captured as he catches sight of the hybrid plastered to your back. His mouth forms an ‘o’, realisation dawning across his features.

“Ah, the unhappy audience….” He murmurs to himself, a glint entering his eyes that you absolutely do not like one bit. Before you can warn him off whatever idea has just entered his head, he turns his gaze to you and offers a bright, if somewhat cheeky, smile.

“Hey, y/n,” he purrs, taking a step closer. You’re suspicious immediately. “You left something at our house last time, and since we were driving past your place anyway the madame asked me to come bring it up to you.”

As he finishes speaking, he pulls something out from behind his back, holding it out to you. You can feel the tension of the hybrid beside you as you reach out and take it, eyes wide.

“Oh, my cardigan,” you mutter, holding up the dark pink article and pursing your lips in surprise. “I did wonder where it got to. Thanks, Changkyun!”

“No problem!” he answers, perhaps a little too easily, He rolls the ring on his bottom lip as he stands in contemplation for a moment. It’s as though he considers doing something, entertaining the thought for a moment before deciding against it. Instead, he offers you a sly smile, beginning to step backwards. “See you next week, y/n.”

You return the farewell, waiting until he is a good metre or so away before closing and locking the door. The second you do, you feel Taehyung pull away from your back. Surprised, you turn in question—the second your gaze falls on him though, you freeze.  

You’re not sure if you can describe the current look in his face in just a single word—there are many emotions that seem to flick across his features, but the one that seems to linger the most is hurt.

At the realisation you’re baffled, understandably, and while your brain attempts to put pieces together and figure out why Taehyung is looking at you like that, he pulls away. His brows are furrowed, bottom lip a split-second away from trembling fully.

“Tae?” you ask, tentative. At the sound of your voice though the hybrid shakes his head, expression even more upset than before. It makes your stomach drag down with guilt and a certain sense of anxiety. Taehyung steps back, looking at you for just a moment longer before he turns and flees.

A call of his name is stuck in your throat and you can only watch him go, hearing him pass through the hall and then hurry up the stairs. Absolutely boggled, you almost miss the movement from the doorway to the living room.

You turn your gaze just in time to catch a glimpse of Seokjin as he slips away, following the same path Taehyung laid through the house just seconds earlier. After the sound of him climbing the stairs passes, you’re confronted with the painfully familiar sound of their door slamming closed upstairs.

You don’t have to have seen his face to know that without a doubt, whatever you’d done to hurt Taehyung’s feelings so suddenly, the same applied to the older hybrid.

God—you don’t even know what you did!

This is getting utterly ridiculous and at this point you’re sitting and stewing in your own ashamed juices. You’d just been so close to mending things with them! How had things turned around so quickly?

It’s like a bag of rocks has been dropped in your chest, pushing your heart down to your stomach. You feel very crummy, suddenly. You don’t doubt they feel similar. They’re not going to sit and watch something with you now, and there’s no point in waiting for them to come down because you’ve been with them long enough to know that they won’t.

What are you supposed to do?

Fighting a sudden batch of irrational tears that have risen to sting your eyes and threaten to fall, you scrunch the cardigan in your grip and make a beeline for your room. You don’t bother going to turn off the TV because right now you’re too upset and it’s just going to remind you of how you’ve managed to ruin things, again.

As soon as the door closes behind you and you’re in the sanctity of your room, you let a sniffle escape. The silence that echoes off the walls is all that answers and you throw yourself onto your bed, phone in your hand.

Even though you’re sad right now and want nothing else than to just cry into your pillow a bit and get these horrible, heavy feelings off your chest, `you know you can’t let this go on any longer than it already has. Somewhat sulkily, you unlock your phone and open the browser, returning to your search from earlier. At this point you can only conclude that the problem is you, and that you won’t be able to find anything to help your plight online.

Of course, that’s the last thing you want to be true. And so you return to your previous search, going through all the tabs you opened up previously and rereading to see if there was anything you’d missed or misinterpreted. You’re not all that optimistic, though, and as you read you try not to think about the sneaking feeling you have that you’re not going to find anything to help you fix this new mess you’ve made.

X     x     x   x     x

An hour later you’re climbing hastily from you bed, standing corrected. You’d just found the answer and the solution you’d been looking for—the fact that it was in one of the first pages you opened earlier and you didn’t get it until just now is an incredible source of shame for you. At this point in time you’re very frustrated with yourself, but thankfully there are more pressing matters to attend to.

You know what’s been bothering your hybrids and upsetting them so much.

Of course, in retrospect it’s something so painfully obvious that you want to kick the ground and ram your head straight into the wall at the same time. You read earlier about how change and stress can affect hybrids more than humans, but it hadn’t really sunk in the types of changes and stressors they are especially sensitive to. Reading through one of the first pages again had something you missed the first time through smacking you in the face the second time round.

Your hybrids are unsettled because you’re their ‘owner’, and you’ve been going out and hanging around other people and hybrids, covering yourself in a myriad of strange, different scents, when they haven’t scented you yet.

Your face warms as you recall everything you’d read after clicking the hyperlink on that word in the original article. Scenting can entail a lot of things depending on the hybrid, but mostly its innocent, and something they need to feel settled and secure, something instinctive. Which explains a lot of things, honestly.

Again, you feel so stupid.

Now that you’ve… enlightened yourself, you have the decency to feel a little ashamed and guilty for not taking better steps to understand your hybrids and accommodate them. It’s on you that you didn’t know any better because you hadn’t done the necessary research, but at the same time you wish they’d come to you and told you what was wrong. Although, you know that considering their background, it’s probably hard for them. They’re never sure of their boundaries, where they can go and how far they can push—they’re too cautious and worrisome sometimes, you think. You have a feeling that that’s kind of what was happening behind the scenes here too.

Trying very desperately not to give in to the flustered blush that’s trying to heat your cheeks at what you’re about to do, you attempt to calm yourself by going through the motions as you normally would at this time of day. It’s late enough that you can justify changing into your pyjamas, and so you do—and although these are the clothes you usually wear to bed, the fluffy pants and thin-strapped singlet leave you feeling a little more exposed than usual. You know that you’re going to be more than a little embarrassed while doing this, but honestly you’re just going to have to push through it—it’s the least you can do considering your part in this.

Once changed, you kind of want to climb back in bed and procrastinate the inevitable a little longer, but you force yourself out of the room. It’s somewhat sheepishly that you emerge, attempting to be quiet with your door even though you know there’s no way they’ve left their room. The trip down the hall to their door is quicker than you remember and it isn’t long before you’re taking a breath to prepare yourself and knocking softly on their door. The response is instant.

“Go away!”

You fight a smile at the sound of Seokjin’s voice—his words say one thing but the waver and hints of a plea in his tone say another. It’s cute, the effort he’s putting into trying to show you he’s upset when you have a feeling he wants nothing more than to spend time with you as he usually does. You take a moment to steel yourself before letting out a huff.

“I’m coming in,” you announce, trying to keep your tone gentle, and then you open the door before he has time to protest. When you swing the door open and step in, it’s to the sight of him sitting on the queen bed with his knees tucked to his chest, his face red— although you can’t tell if it’s from anger or embarrassment.

“What do you want,” he grumbles, reminding you very much of a child with the way he averts his eyes and pouts. His tail twitches anxiously behind him, his ears pressed against his skull. Your eyes sweep the room, confusion flickering amongst your thoughts when you don’t catch sight of his younger brother.

“Where’s Taehyung?” you ask, head tilting. Seokjin answers you a moment later, albeit reluctantly.

“He’s in the shower…” he says, and now that he mentions it you can hear the soft sound of music filtering through the wall. The dhole hybrid likes having something soft and jazzy playing whenever he showers or bathes, you suspect it’s because it helps relax him a little.

You hum in acknowledgement, standing in the doorway for a moment, leaning against the doorframe as you simply look at him. He seems to flush under your prolonged gaze, desperately trying to avoid meeting your eyes. It takes you a moment to decide how to start, and you try not to keep him on his toes too long. It still startles him when you finally speak a few moments later.

You decide to just bite the bullet and jump right into it. “Seokjin, do the two of you feel comfortable here?”

The male balks at your question, eyes wide as he finally looks at you. His knees drop into a cross-legged position against the bed as he straightens, sputtering. “What? Of course we do, you’ve given us everything.”

You wonder if he realises he’s fallen out of his upset character but push the thought aside in favour of continuing your interrogation, setting the grounds so you can lead up to a certain point. Distantly, you register the sound of pipes creaking in the walls as water is shut off and the sound of jazz music disappearing to a muffle. You shake your head at the male, but smile at his words. “Seokjin, what I mean is, are the two of you comfortable— do you feel at home?”

At those words, the hybrid freezes, staring at you with wide eyes. After a few moments he attempts to form a response, the conflict behind his eyes making your heart clench painfully. “I… we…”

You sigh, offering the male a slightly sad smile. “Seokjin, it’s okay. I… I’m sorry. I realise that I could have been doing a better job, with this whole thing. I should have done more to ease you guys into this, and reassure you.”

The male is silent, his eyes glistening slightly. You continue, “I realised earlier that it’s possible you don’t feel like… like this is a permanent home for you, that you could feel as though I’m just a middle ground or a foster home and that you can’t really settle or feel secure here. Is that right?”

His mouth falls open, expression conveying just how completely caught off guard he is—you are right, it seems. He can’t seem to muster a response, but his features contort into an expression of guilt.  “y-y/n, I’m sorry—”

Realising the turn his thoughts are taking, you hurry to step closer and sooth him. “No, bub, you don’t have to apologise at all. This one is on me. This is as new for me as it is for you two, but that doesn’t excuse it. I need to do better, and I will. I…”

At the barest sound of shuffling, you turn over your shoulder and hold your arm out invitingly; Taehyung stands clad in his stripy pyjamas in the doorway and regards the two of you with wide, watering eyes, apparently having heard your conversation thus far. The second he sees your invitation he darts forward, perching on the bed in front of you and clutching the outstretched hand he’d grabbed on his way past.

You take a deep breath before looking both of them in the eyes, one at a time, and speaking. “I want this to be your home. I want you to feel comfortable, and safe, and loved. I want you to know that this isn’t a short-term commitment for me, okay? I’m not going to ever suddenly change my mind, I’m not going to stop caring for you or wanting you around.”

Your voice softens as you take in the way their eyes water slightly. “You can let go of that guard you have over your hearts, and you can let me in. I promise that I will take care of you. You’re safe here, alright? I’m not… I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise.”

“y/n…” Seokjin’s voice wobbles, his chin trembling.  You reach up and wipe away the beginnings of tears, doing the same to Taehyung who moves and nuzzles his face into your touch eagerly. It soothes you to see his stormy mood from earlier has vanished completely.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to say anything.” A smile tugs your lips, a tender feeling warming your chest. “But… I do have something else to say.”

They both seem a little wary at your words, but relax when you cup their cheeks—Seokjin has long since moved over on the bed so you can reach him.

“I want to say I’m sorry, for not being more knowledgeable about hybrid things,” you say, catching the confused look in their eyes. “I’m going to do more research in the future, but for now…”

They seem to guess where you’re going with this, cheeks colouring. Seokjin mumbles, “You’re talking about how we’ve been acting, aren’t you.”

When you nod, he seems a little apprehensive and anxious. You speak before he can come to any drastic conclusions. “It’s because I come home smelling like other hybrids, right? And you don’t like smelling other hybrids on me.”

Now that you’ve voiced it, the two of them have the decency to appear somewhat embarrassed and chastised. They nod, heads hanging slightly, and you fight back a chuckle. At least they’re aware that it’s not an appropriate behaviour, though it’s not like they can help it. It’s instinct for them, and while its hard for you to wrap your head around as a human, you accept it. You accept them.

“You can scent me, you know.”

At your words, their heads whip up so fast you’re worried they’ll have whiplash from the sheer jerkiness and speed of the movement. Taehyung’s mouth has dropped completely open, eyes blown wide as he stares at you in disbelief—his whole face slowly stains pink and when you turn to regard Seokjin you find the fox hybrid in a similar state.

“Wh-what did you say?” he asks, so softly you almost wonder if you imagined it. He stares at you like he can hardly believe such words would come out of your mouth, like he’d never even considered the possibility.

“You can scent me,” you repeat, head tilting slightly. “I read that it’s something you need to do to feel secure, and comfortable… am I wrong?”

Taehyung’s mouth snaps shut and he shakes his head fervently, hands clutching yours at his cheek. Seokjin hurries to elaborate.

“No! No it’s not wrong, we… it’s an instinct…” he trails off, biting his lip. “We didn’t know… didn’t think you would be comfortable with it, b-because it’s…. it’s kind of weird….”

You tut, tapping your hand against their cheeks softly but enough to startle them. “You sweet fools,” you say, grinning—their ears perk up at the affection in your tone, tails twitching as though they contain the urge to wag. “I didn’t accept you unknowingly, I realised it would come with new territory and new things I hadn’t heard of or done before. Also, my cute boys, please don’t make my decisions for me. From now on, please tell me when something is troubling you, alright? Let’s keep honesty and openness as our policy. I really want the two of you to be happy.”

The two of them are nodding again before the last word even leaves your mouth, pressing their faces to your palms like eager puppies. It makes you giggle a little, and at the sound they both light up, tails giving a small wag.

“We understand, y/n,” Seokjin says, smiling and blowing you away for a moment with his beauty. “Thank you.”

You nod, appeased for now, and let a few moments of contented silence fall between you all before Seokjin is shifting suddenly, looking very much like he has something further to say. You look to him pointedly and he grows sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck shyly.

“Uh, about what you said earlier… c-could we…?”

You snort softly, sending him a reassuring smile. “Yes, Seokjin, you can scent me. Do what you need to do, pretty boys. I’m yours however you need me.”

The two of them are immediately visibly giddy at your words, though something foreign and dark sparks to life in their eyes. You don’t have enough time to decipher it before Taehyung is lurching forward, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you backwards onto the bed with him. Seokjin immediately shuffles back to accommodate, slotting himself perfectly into your free side when Taehyung nestles into the other. They seek out the crook of your neck on instinct, burying their faces there in sync and making you shiver slightly from the sensation.

They rub their faces against the skin, cheeks pressed to your shoulders, and keep that up for a while. You’re curious as to why that is all they’re doing; when you looked it up earlier, several sources said that certain acts embed the scent more deeply than others. Like rubbing their cheeks against you, versus licking, or even soft kisses as some sites had informed you. Different actions made the scent stronger. Although, you know that neither of them have been in an environment where they’ve been able to do this before, so you know this is all new territory for them as well and they’re unsure of their boundaries. Right on cue as you think this, you sense Seokjin grow slightly tense next to you, his movements slowing.

“y/n…”

You turn, pressing a kiss to the top of his head between his ears. “Seokjin, I know. Do what you feel you need to.”

With verbal permission from you, he sags in relief. At once he returns to clinging to you with a hand clutching your hip on the opposite side, worming beneath the edge of your shirt so he is closer to you. Taehyung shuffles on your other side, doing the same. You feel your heartrate pick up slightly from the way they nuzzle into you, lips brushing your sensitive flesh. It doesn’t help that all you read before is fresh in your mind and you know how scenting can go for hybrids of their type—the idea has your stomach flipping in anticipation.

Taehyung is the first to change his tactics. Burying his nose in your neck, he presses his lips to the skin in a soft kiss before you feel his tongue dart out. It swipes along your sensitive flesh in short strips, the tip of the muscle leaving blots of wetness in its wake—it’s a sensation that tickles slightly as much as it makes your heartrate skyrocket, and you can’t help the soft giggle that slips out as a result. You feel his answering smile moments later.

Seokjin has a similar idea, but his execution differs. His body curls around you, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hip as he begins to pepper soft kiss after kiss along the column of your neck. He pauses as he nears your hairline, taking a moment to bury his nose in your locks and bask in your scent—you shiver at the feeling and he holds you tighter in his arms.

There’s something about the act that seems to make them succumb that little bit more to their instincts. Unexpectedly, they quickly grow a little bolder. Taehyung pulls the thin strap of your shirt down so he can continue his trail down your shoulder and over the curve of your clavicle. Seokjin’s kisses turn open-mouthed, and he seems to have found a place on your neck just under the curve of your jaw where your scent is strongest—lightly, tenderly, he begins sucking over your pulse point. Your breathing hitches unwittingly in response.

At this point you think you’re going to have a heart attack; your pulse is off the charts and your stomach is a live pool of nerves. Even with what you read, your surprised and alarmed and shamefully a little excited at where this is beginning to go.  Through the haze beginning to permeate your brain, you realise you have to stop them in their tracks before they step too far and can’t go back. Still, it all feels so nice…

You’re only jerked into motion when Taehyung moves, shifting closer and holding himself slightly over you as his mouth maps over your clavicle and begins to move further down. Your heart jumps, and with a surprised squeak trapped in your throat you bring your hand to his head right before he reaches the start of your breast, almost at the edge of the singlet.

“Tae,” is all you say, but your tone seems to bring both of them back to the present a bit. Taehyung shudders, letting out a huff before simply dropping his body down half on top of you, head resting in the crook of your neck. Seokjin presses his lips to your skin in one long, final kiss, before burying his face there and relaxing against you as his brother did. Like this, they return to their earlier ministrations, before it began to get… yeah.

Now that they’re no longer making your heartrate jump to unhealthy levels, the longer you’re in their soft embrace the more sluggish and sleepy you feel—their warmth is like a blanket of security and safety thrown over you, their affection soothing any worries or stress you might retain from the week and day. The feeling is mutual; gradually, the two of them begin to slow in their movements, Taehyung’s soft lapping returning to the occasional press of his lips and nuzzle, Seokjin remaining still with his tongue darting out every so often. Without even meaning to, the three of you fall asleep there in each other’s embrace, tension soothed and worries mollified. One last thing crosses your mind before you drift off.

You really are starting to love these two hybrids with all your heart, but after this experience you have to wonder...

Is that the only thing you feel?

a/n: please let me know what u think,, and lmk if u enjoyed this with a like and/or rb!! also feel free to drop an ask, i’m keen to know what u thought! thank u for reading and supporting me!! <3

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[vegetacide]

Veggie art’ing Part II complete…  This is a continuation of THIS 

Also for something a bit new as I had several notes asking what was going on with the previous pic I wrote a little something to accompany this.  It took a rather unexpected direction on me as I had ordinally intended for this to be a reconciliation picture..   Just were my mind veered for some reason.. I blame these two idiots…

I have spent far too long plunking away at this so bare with me if its absolutely crap. 

Anyway.. if you wish to read it.. look check out below 

Working title: …haven’t come up with one yet.. meh. Sue me

Blanket warning: Hints to adult subject matter that some might find offensive or triggery..mentions of past trama…. etc etc

Rating: Teen.. I guess

Word count: 2726 words 

Characters: Virgil/Kayo

Fandom: TaG’verse A/U

Location: My made up beach house located somewhere on Tracy Island..  

Veggie notes:   Any errors are completely my own and I am sure I will catch them at some point on one of my obsessive read throughs of self doubt.  :D

Enjoy…

o0o 

Damn, how in the world had it come to this? 

Virgil watched as she padded on quiet, bare feet across the beach house deck.  Retreating again and effectively shutting him out.  Her slender shoulders so small under the too big flannel of his shirt, were hunched as she protectively wrapped her arms around herself. Closing off like she always did when things got too close and too real for her to deal with. 

His chest hurt, a dull ache behind his breast bone and he rubbed at it subconsciously.  Like his heart was too big and in its floundering it was trying to break through the meager sack of flesh that housed it.

Cursing, he rubbed at it again and resisted the urge to drive his fist in the plastered wall of the beach house.  The effort wouldn’t serve any meaningful purpose anyways other than splitting his knuckles. There was no detracting from his present circumstances and potential broken bones wouldn’t change that. 

He should have taken more care with his words instead of letting his thoughts run free as he did and he kicked himself for his short sightedness,  not that it fixed anything.  He’d been too caught up in his own little world,  completely forgetting the reality they were living and now here they were. 

On opposing ends of a vast chasm.  Him holding on with all his might to keep his family whole while Kayo fought against it. The horrible twisted image of family that a mad man had imprinted on her at too young an age warping her view on things to the detriment of them both.    An idea she had been fighting her whole life to make different and one she couldn’t escape, it seemed no matter how hard they tried to.  

The old doubts and worries were always just beneath the surface just waiting to spring forth to bugger things up. The present being a prime example.  

The morning had started out completely different and felt almost like a dream to where they were now.   Warm and lazy with a vague like quality one found just upon waking.   

Kayo had been snuggled in his arms. Her legs tangled with his among the rumpled sheets. A sweet ocean breeze blowing through the gossamer curtains and dancing pleasantly over their satiated bodies.  Wicking the dew of sweat from their skin as their pulses slowed and their minds drifted back from the bliss of carnal sensation. 

His fingers had been lazily tracing up and down her back, over the sinewy grace of her shoulders and down the curve of her spine. Paying homage and mapping every glorious inch to his artist brain. 

He’d been lost in a day dream of what could be. The gentle rise of her hip, the varied valleys of her ribs  directing the course of his thoughts.  A picture was forming of a future, one that stretched out before them like a blank canvas, waiting for them to take up the brush and fill it with colour and life. 

A story in images had started to sketch itself  in his mind’s eye.  The two of them, together.  Healing, growing and evolving with a world of opportunity before them and nothing to hold them back. 

Not being able to contain himself as he lazed with her, Virgil had voiced his thoughts. Letting loose all that he’d hoped for.   A tumble of words spewing forth that had Kayo suddenly growing still and stiff to his touch. 

“Virgil,  stop…”  Had been all she’d uttered before she’d turned from his embrace and slipped from the soft comfort of their bed.  Her hair a tumble of love tousled ebony, hiding her face. 

“It would be a nice picture to paint.”  He’d replied, mind still on other things and not on the present.   “Go anywhere, wherever we want.  Take in the sights for a change instead of just jetting by them.  Go to that little cabin by that lake I told you about… it would be a perfect spot to..”

“Enough! …” The abruptness of her raised voice had him snapping his jaw shut.  

With jerking motions, she’d grabbed up his shirt.  The match to his favourite pair of lounge pants.   The one she loved to cozy into and entice him with. A glimpse of flesh here as it rode up her thighs, a flash there as supple mounds peaked out between the row of loosed buttons. Now though it covered her in a different manner entirely.  Like a shield, she clasped it tightly 

He’d pushed up to his elbows, brows dropped low with concern as he’d finally taken note that something wasn’t quite right..  “Kay?"  

She’d cast her gaze back at him then.  The briefest of looks had been enough for him to catch the shadow of disquiet in them.  Their usual vibrancy muddied by brewing clouds of anger that had him sliding from the sheets and reaching for her. 

“Don’t.” Was all she said, shaking her head as he’d risen and moved towards her.  Her hands held aloft to hold him back as she’d strode from the room.  

“What… Tin,  what’s going on?”  

Grabbing up his pants Virgil had stumbled after her, hopping as he yanked them on amid a  litany of colourful words. 

“Shit… Wait..”  

Steps later he was confronted by a fury he hadn’t expected considering where and what they had been doing mere moments before.  

She had been pacing like a caged animal,  across the expanse of the living room and back again.  Rage flowing from her with each hurried step. 

“What…?”  Was all he managed to say before she turned on him.  Fire in her gaze,  colour high on her cheeks.  

“You know what?”  She seethed, poking a finger in his direction as she did another circuit of the room.

He’s own anger bubbled to the surface,  “Actually, I don’t. So would you enlighten me to whatever erroneous infraction it is that you think that I’ve done?”  

“Oh, don’t give me that.  You know exactly what the problem is.”

Virgil’s brows shot up as her words had struck a chord in his grey matter. “Problem? You really think…”

“What in the hell were we thinking?!”  She growled out, shoving a chair out to the way and knocking it over with a crash. “Selfish..Stupid.”

“With the lives we lead….You can’t ask this of me!”   

Her words had been like a physical blow and Virgil had taken an involuntary step back. She’d wanted her words to hurt and she’d succeeded.  She never did pull her punches and her aim was as impeccable as ever.

He’d seen the realization of what she’d said flicker through her gaze but she’d quickly buried it. Instead of saying more, she shook her head, turned  her back on him once more and walked out the open sliding doors putting more than just distance between them. 

And he’d let her go,  his shoulders slumping at the writing between the lines of what had been said. In his mind there was only one option open to them but maybe for her that wasn’t the case. The implications of those options was something he couldn’t dare to fathom…but it was a road he wouldn’t let her travel down alone.  

He had a responsibility to uphold,  as  her husband and as the man he prided himself on being.  A rescuer in dark times, when there was no one else capable of the job and sometimes those that needed rescuing were closer to home.

Squaring his shoulders he went after her.  She was begging for a fight. An obvious distraction from the core reasoning behind her lashing out at him but he wouldn’t take her up on the invitation.   He wouldn’t let her push him away to deal with whatever this was on her own. 

Passing through the doors,  his eyes scanned over the deck and his breath had caught.   

She looked so small, fragile and it had brought him up short. Slumping,  he braced himself between a support post and the beach house wall.  An uncanny exhaustion suffusing him as he saw the uphill battle of the task ahead.  A task he was determined to see through to the end, no matter the outcome. 

He hated seeing her like this and despite her best efforts to push him away, Virgil knew her too well.  Had spent most of his life knowing her.  He could read her nuances, gestures and mood even when she tried to close off from him like she was trying to do now under a mask of anger.  

“Tin,”  He said carefully, dropping his hand and pushing away from the post.  He drew in a breath and let it out slowly, letting the tension slip from his shoulders.   Approaching her with all guns blazing would only crank her defenses up higher and wouldn’t get them anywhere.

He watched her stance with a practiced eye as he stepped closer.  She was like an abused animal.  Even with all of her training, when she was emotionally compromised as she was right now the scared little girl she had been came to the fore.  The one they met when she’d first came to live with them, hiding behind her father’s leg.   

He hadn’t known her history then,  the actions of her uncle and the effect that it would have on the rest of her life.  How it would shape her into the strong, determined woman she was today.  Never letting anyone get close enough to see the frightened child she closeted away inside.  Virgil though had managed to find his way inside,  found the cracks in her apparent impenetrable armour and had broken through to  the core of the woman inside.  The one she tried desperately to hide from the world in a shell of fierce resolve and purpose.  

Under it all was a woman, who had seen too much.  Abused, battered, basically orphaned by her absentee father and desperately afraid.  To top it all off, she hated the weakness and fought tooth and nail to hide it from everyone.  With the exception of him,  she didn’t have a choice there. He’d wormed his way in and he wouldn’t stand by and let her retreat from herself or from him.  

Gently he placed his hands on her tight shoulders,  cupping their slender, wavering strength and he whispered her name again.  “Tanusha…”  

Her head bowed further,  a meager attempt to hide in the fall of her hair but he could feel the quiver in her body now,  hear the soft stuttered intake of her breath.  She was crying and trying oh so hard not to be. 

Pain and love swelled through his chest, and an undeniable protectiveness.  

Virgil pulled her back into his embrace, encircling his arms around her waist and with little resistance she melted.  

“I’m sorry,”  He whispered over the curve of her ear,  brushing his lips across the elven-like arch of it.  “I’m so sorry.”  

He put all his love he could into the words, hoping that by apologizing for something he wasn’t wholly the cause of would help alleviate her suffering in some way. 

“I wasn’t thinking and it was insensitive of me.”  He tightened his hold on her,  reassurance imbued into the gesture and slowly began to rock giving her the time to pull herself back together again. 

The slight tremor slowly dissipated,  her breathing settling into a somewhat normal rhythm and he knew that she was ready to hear. More so when she dragged in a ragged breath and exhaled a long drawn out sigh. He could almost hear her counting to ten in her head.  A method she used to reign back in some of her control and a calm he knew well creeped back in. One that camouflaged a great deal of hurt. 

He did the same,  his warm breath stirring her hair and ghosting across the smooth column of her neck which peeked out from the drooping collar of his shirt.   

“You know we’ve got this, right?”  He questioned though he wasn’t expecting an answer.  “Yes,  he’s out…”  She stilled once more in his hold but Virgil couldn’t stop now,  Kayo needed to hear this even if it was just a band-aid to the problem.   He couldn’t sit by and let her lose herself in fear so he pushed on. There was too much at stake.

“Yes,  he’s upped his game in a big way.  Dad knew he was capable,  your Dad knew….” A flinch at the mention of the absentee man but again he pressed on.  There was no backing down now.  What he had to say, needed to be said.  

“We were unprepared but we know better now and I promise you, Tanusha Kyrano Tracy;  just like I did on the day you said ‘Yes’.. That I will never,  ever let that man hurt you again.”  

He slipped a hand down,  between the soft folds of flannel,  across her silky, soft skin that concealed honed muscle and deadly skills. Brushed the edge of fine lace and stilled, cupped and shielded that which was only known to the two of them.  

With strength of purpose his chest swelled,  a determination unlike any he had ever known bulked up the threat behind his next words.  “I’ll do everything in my power to protect both of you, I swear it or the Hood will regret the day he heard the name Tracy.”

She turned, taking his hand in her own and lightly brushing her lips across his knuckles. “You’re too good for me Virgil Grissom Tracy and I don’t deserve you.”  

The brief storm of anger has fled from her eyes, leaving behind only doubt and fear.  “But I don’t think it’s as easy as that. You’re too good a man to stoop to such levels and I don’t think I could live with myself if you made that sort of sacrifice on my behalf. 

Besides,  what sort of life could we offer with him out there.   He’s already been the cause of so much pain.  You and your brother’s have suffered for years because of it..I don’t think I would have the strength if he was to get you or….” 

Virgil’s frowned.  “Tin,  I married you.  All of you and everything you brought with you. I knew full well what I was marrying into but that man,  that bastard… he can’t come between us and what we want unless you let him.”  

Her gaze dropped and with gentle fingers he lifted her chin and waited for her to meet his pleading eyes.  “Don’t let him win… not in this. Please God, not in this.”  

“We may not have a choice…” Came the whisper of her response, her forehead resting against his own as a lingering tear slipped from her lashes. 

“Tin, please….”

“Virgil, I love you.  God, how I love you but I can’t tell you what you want to hear.  Not right now. If the Hood found out…. 

Just then the island klaxon blared  and Virgil’s comms started to ping with urgency.

Kayo took a step back from him and he stared after her. Brain going a mile a minute with words he wanted to say,  emotions he wanted to express.   

“Go…” She said with resignation, her arms once more crossing over her frame.   “You’re needed..” 

“I’m needed more here.”  

His comms buzzed again followed by the voice of his star loving sibling. “Virgil, you’re needed in Ops. A.S.A.P.  Please confirm.””  

Conflicted, Virgil stood unmoving,  his fist clenched at his side.   Trapped between the woman he loved and the life they’d chosen.  

“Go,  I’ll be here when you get back..”   

His brother’s voice sounded again from his comms, pulling him in two directions at once.  The hint of stress he picks up in it though had him unfreezing and heading for the underground access to the hanger.  

Passing through the automated door and hitting his comms to reply to John, he looked back at Kayo.  His heart sinking and doubt filling him as he watched her turn away from him.  

Uncertainty prickling across his skin as he questioned the validity of her words but there was nothing he could do right now.   Lives were at stack…more so than just those that needed rescuing and his hands were tied… 

“FAB John,  on my way…”

FIN….????

[inkribbon796]

Six [Ate] Ain’t Seven Ch. 1: Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures

Summary: The anomaly demands resolution, and it will not be denied.

A/N: No story has fought me like this one. Even the Time Warp with its multiple timeline garbage didn’t fight me like this one did. This one was supposed to come out in September of LAST YEAR.

Me: No Host, we are doing this, this thread has to be tied up.

Host: But consider making all the apprentices toddlers for a day, instead of writing this?

Me: . . . *thinks about toddler Ranboo and writes that down* . . . that’s a really good idea but we’re strapped for time with this arc and we’re still doing this.

Host: It was worth a shot.

Chapters: 1, 2

It happened infrequently, a tear in the fabric of reality would appear somewhere in Egoton, and the Host would race to correct it before it spread and began destroying things.

The important part was keeping the tear away from the anomaly. It would cause even more problems for the Host, only these problems would only be more obvious to everyone else. And the Host was desperate to keep Dark from noticing the tear. It would ruin everything.

So, the Host wanted to fix the error in the story he was safeguarding, and so he brought himself to the Sides’ home one morning. His arrival timed perfectly.

The Host used his narrations and aura to ring the doorbell.

It took a minute or two for the door to open and to his great fortune, Patton was the one to open the door. He was overly cheery, the epitome of a morning person.

“Oh, Host,” Patton recognized in surprise, glancing around to see if anyone was out and about in the morning. “Come on in.”

“The Host merely wanted to bring something to Morality’s attention,” the Host told him. “If he could meet the Host outside of Dark’s warehouses, but not directly in the parking lots, the Host would greatly appreciate it.”

“O-Okay,” Patton looked back nervously into the hallway of his home.

“Is everything alright?” Logan called from the kitchen.

“Yeah, it’s just Host,” Patton called back. Then he turned back to the Host. “I’ll just get the guys and we’ll—”

“The Host would prefer if just Morality accompanied him,” the Host corrected. “Time is of the essence and discretion is necessary. The Entity will be none the wise of Morality’s proximity, the Host can ensure his safety from the demon.”

“Oh,” Patton became more uneasy. “I guess . . . yeah . . . just let me suit up and I’ll meet you there.”

“The Host thanks Morality for this, the Host will explain what he can once they are in position,” the Host nodded. “He will also ensure none of the Sides’ neighbors remember seeing the Host.”

And with that the Host disappeared in a flurry of his narrations, his eyes bleeding as he reappeared outside the Entity’s warehouses. The tear insistent on receiving the demon’s attention, but Host used all his power to keep it from doing so.

Patton took some time to reach the rendezvous point, in full costume, but he was alone as the seer had asked. The Host knew that Logan and Virgil were in their own superhero uniforms, not too far away from out of sight from both of them. It was not ideal, but it was the best the Host could ask for.

“The Host thanks Morality for his assistance, he has tried to fix matter on his own, but he has proven unsuccessful,” the Host began before reaching out with his aura and muffling Patton’s communicator before yanking the two of them into the tear in reality as it fluttered again.

Patton gasped as he felt his body trying to alter and change but something held that force back. Everything around the Host and Patton was white and time stopped.

Patton wasn’t sure how long time passed between being pulled into the tear and when he blinked his eyes opened. He thought it was only a second but somehow it seemed impossibly longer.

He was also no longer wearing his superhero costume, but was in a grey and beige three piece suit with a blue dress shirt. His head felt fuzzy, a torrent of memories that felt like his own and someone else’s mixed together in an uncomfortable slurry.

He gasped for air, realizing that he’d been holding his breath.

“The Host apologizes,” the Host said, his bat in hand, still looking like his normal self. “The Host would not have involved Morality if there was any other way.”

“Where are we?” Patton looked around at the white expanse and saw in the distance what looked like a castle, opulent and the color of bone. “Am I dead?”

“No, neither Morality, nor the Host have stopped existing, they have slipped into the In-between,” Host corrected. “Its residents are few and far between, the Host and Morality are simply using it to bridge the gap between realities and fix the Host’s mistakes.”

“What mistake?” Patton glanced around again, the castle seemed to be closer than the last time he’d looked at it.

The seer used his narrations to summon up a thick folder and dropped it right at Patton’s feet.

Immediately the contents spilled out to show it was full of legal documents, childhood drawings and pictures of the emotional Side growing up with a different family.

Patton knelt down to pick up a picture of him, probably ten or eleven, cuddled up next to an equally young Yancy under the shade of a tree. “What? What is this?”

“This is what remains of Patton Elijah Sanders,” the Host said. “Everything the Host could not get, he collected so that no one else could see it. Morality has been resisting the Host’s attempts to correct it further. The Host suspects it is because of sentimentality.”

“I don’t remember any of this, I’m one of Thomas’s Sides, I wasn’t raised with you.” Patton grabbed a picture and mentally paused. “Is this a picture of all of you in little cat onesies? Awww, how cute.”

“Yes, there is a matching picture, without Morality, in a scrap book that is in the Madman’s possession,” the Host answered. “More importantly, the Host made sure no one could remember this reality. He did everything he could to untangle those plot threads. But when the Host first closed the gap he was not as powerful as he is now. He was unsure how to do such a thing, as such there were cracks, seams left unglued. Morality is the only thing left to alter.”

“What happened though?” Patton tried to scoop the file back up, glancing back over to see the white castle was less than a football field away now.

“The Suits were not the first time the Host had used the anomaly to bend the laws of his reality to his whim.” The Host used his aura to help scoop the contents of the folder up and they disappeared into his aura with a few simple narrations. “The Host and Morality used the anomaly very early in the Host’s creation to protect their world. The Actor was too powerful and the Host was too new to protect his family or friends, so the Host and Patton ripped the anomaly from the Actor and used it to change everything. The Host kept altering things bit by bit, trying to buy the city more and more time until eventually they are at the state they are in now.”

“What—” Patton stalled in confusion. “How—”

“The Host could not have done this without Morality’s initial cooperation, but now the anomaly fights the Host’s efforts to completely close that reality. It cares not for its playthings, only for the plot and the joy and suffering that can be wrought from its inhabitants and the Host requests Morality’s assistance once more.”

“O-Okay,” Patton stood up. “I really don’t understand what’s going on, and I’m very confused on what I can do to help, but if it means helping people and saving them I’ll do what I can.”

“That is all the Host asks of Morality,” the Host smiled.

“So what do we do?” Patton looked to see that the castle was the length of two houses away now. “That castle’s getting closer, that’s a good thing, right?”

“No,” the Host answered. “The Host and Morality must locate the anomaly still in the old reality. It is located in Dark’s office because the Host would not have existed at the time to remove it from the Entity’s possession. Then they must leave the warehouses to return back to their own reality.”

“Alright,” Patton agreed. “But surely you don’t need me for that.”

“Morality’s emotional manipulation ability is key to this plan, he is essential for its success,” the Host corrected. “Should Dark arrive back at the warehouse while Morality and the Host are still there, it will be Morality’s job to help distract the Entity.”

“Really don’t like it when people refer to my superpower like that,” Patton cringed. “Makes me feel all icky.”

“Nevertheless, Morality and the Host have to be very careful,” the Host warned. “They can never give in to themselves in this branched reality or it will end in catastrophic failure for everyone. Lunky will cease to exist, and there will be no way to combat the Actor. Everyone will suffer.”

“Oh,” Patton’s eyes widened.

The castle grounds were almost brushing the side of their feet, causing Patton to look over at it in alarm, the Host used his narration to place a hand on Patton’s shoulder to redirect his attention.

The Host tried to smile for Patton’s comfort. “If Morality is ready, then the Host can take them in, the Entity is already removed from his office. They can be in and out in minutes. All they must do is stay quiet and not succumb to who they used to be. They go in, and the instant their feet are out of the warehouses’ parking lots, they are free.”

Patton nodded and the Host pushed them into the tear with his aura and the anomaly, the castle not able to touch them.

[chick-from-nz]

Paper, Scissors, Rank (Ch: 9)

CHARACTER/PAIRING: Modern!Carrillo x Army!OC (eventually) 

WARNINGS: maybe some swearing, military slang, more military talk,  spelling and grammatical errors. Flippy floppy points of view and tenses. Could be very OOC/AU for some. Carrillo may not be narcos accurate as this is an AU. Some OC x OC. awkwardly written moments. Sexual tension. some NSFW content. Mentions of death,  child endangerment, TW: car crash. 

AUTHORS NOTE: ok so this chapter went a little darkish at the start and then very different at the end. not gonna lie a little bit giddy and proud of this chapter, hope you all enjoy, sorry for the wait between the chapters. would also love to hear any predictions about where the fic may go.

WORD COUNT: 5.5K  

CHAPTER:  9 OF ?

TAG LIST (OPEN): @girlpornparadise @1zashreena1 @xxidontwikeitxx @nicke0115 @allalngthewtchtower @lettherebrelight

** **

                                                  ~15 years ago~

“Ashlyn honey, come on, we don’t want to be late ”  her mother, Teressa, yelled out from the bottom of the stairs, laughing softly to herself when she heard the mad rush of footsteps on the wooden floors before seeing her eight year old daughter running towards her with all her might, only to halt army style and stare up at her with wide eyes.  There was not a single soul that could deny the resemblance between the two of them, they shared the striking green eyes and red-brown hair of the Sayer family, both had a boisterous take no shit attitude and the same little quirks and tells when they were upset. Which Teressa could tell was the case with her daughter right this minute.  She reached down and pulled her young daughter into her embrace, balancing her on her hip as she made haste towards their car, “what's wrong baby? What’s got you thinking, hmm?” 

Ash looked up at her mum, teary eyed and mumbled, “I don’t want daddy to get mad at me, I didn’t mean to hit that boy, he just said some mean things about daddy and I got really angry”. Little sniffles were becoming more and more prevalent as she continued talking, try as she might the little girl couldn’t fathom why people would speak bad about her family, they were all so nice!. She clumsily climbed down from her mum's arms and hopped up into her car seat, clipping her belt before pulling on it dramatically to prove that she was actually clipped in. Ash then let out a small gleeful laugh when her mum bopped her on the nose before walking around the car to get into the driver's seat to start on their journey to the principal's office to find out the punishment for the young girls justified behaviour. 

The journey to the school would take longer than necessary, unexpected road closures with no concrete explanations from the officers monitoring the road blocks had forced Teressa to take the back roads and add an extra forty minutes to their already long commute for a Saturday morning. Travelling along generally unused and quiet roads was somewhat of an unusual experience for Ash, having been used to seeing cars passing by every other minute and looking at houses rather than vast open fields. As they passed round a corner, entering a tree lined road with dense forest on either side of them, an unsettling feeling overcame the young mother, there was a strange darkness that clung to the air, setting off alarm bells within. She remained calm as possible as to not alert Ashlynn that something was wrong, as the young girl was far too perceptive for her age, a trait that she had inherited from her fathers side of the family. She glanced back at her daughter, noticing that she was rather quiet, but let out a small sigh of relief when she noted that she had dozed off, head slumped against the panel of the door and her hair covering her face, snoring away softly to herself. It was in this brief moment of distraction that Teressa failed to notice the truck approaching rapidly from behind, when she did she increased her speed well beyond the speed limit, keeping an eye on a sleeping Ash to make sure she didn’t wake up and begin to start asking questions like the curious little thing always did.

As her speed increased the blacked out vehicle behind them only got faster until it was a mere meter behind their car, seeing no other option she pushed the car to its limits, approaching the upcoming intersection at speeds that should terrify her beyond means, but in this moment she was focusing on only one thing, protecting her innocent daughter in the back seat. As she passed through the intersection a scream forced its way from her throat, just through the intersection sat a parked truck blocking the road. Teressa knew she wouldn’t be able to stop in time so she swerved sharply to the right, hearing the screaming of the tires as they went from smooth asphalt to the gravely uneven surface that bordered the edge of the road. The steering of the car locked up, Teressa tried with all her might to get it moving again but was forced to endure the inevitable pain from the collision that was about to happen, with what may be her final words to her daughter she turned to look at Ash, tears filling her eyes when she took in the terrified expression on the young girls’ face, and whispered “I love you baby girl”

When Ash woke up she was sprawled on the grass a few feet from the car, rain was pouring down putting a darker spin on the event occurring. There were people standing around her, albeit a few feet away and semi-huddled together, and something warm was running into her left eye. Reaching up and feeling a thick, sticky substance she pulled her hand down to get a better look, a terrified scream leaving her small body when she noticed her hand washed red with blood. Her scream drew the attention of the people huddled together but they dismissed her without some much as a disgruntled look, they weren’t there for her. Ash glanced around, frightened and searching for her mum, who she found in a heap a meter or so to the left of her. With great difficulty she managed to crawl over to her mum, gathering her head and shaking her when she wouldn’t wake up.

“Mummy please! I’m sorry, no mummy please! Please wake up mummy, I need you” Tears poured from the eyes of the young bruised girl, mixing in with the blood as she desperately tried to wake her mum up. Her little body was exhausted from the effort, shivering from the cold seeping into her bones from the rain, and the toll of the crash began to take effect, she was becoming drowsy, a sure sign of a concussion. Ash felt a small wave of relief was over her when the eyes of her mothers’ met her own, the tears never halted, dripping off her face and landing on the face of her mother, mixing in with the blood that was covering the once beautiful face of her mum, now marred by sliced and bruised flesh.  Her mum pulled her head towards herself, pressing a short but meaningful kiss to her forehead before her body began to go limp.  “Ashy, darling, hold Mumma close for a little while”  the broken voice of her mother rang clear in her ears.

Ash pulled her mums’ head as close to her little chest as possible, crying out and trying with all her might to keep her mum with her till help could arrive. With one last shuddering breath her mother passed, she was gone, no matter how tightly Ash held her. Looking down and seeing the closed eyes of her mother, she panicked, screaming out for the group of people to try and get their attention or at least their help.  “Please help me, my mummy won’t wake up! I need my mummy, please help me!” 

One of the men started towards her, dressed in clothes very similar to that of her father, before coming to a stop before her. He looked over the child thoughtfully, knowing the orders he was given deemed only that the woman be killed and the girl to be delivered to the hospital in a recoverable state, sighing to himself he reached down and hoisted the girl up and made haste towards one of the trucks. 

“Put me down! I want my mummy. Don't take me away from her! MUMMY!!!!”  the girl cried and screamed and beat at the man that was carrying her. She didn't understand. Why was the man taking her away from the one good thing in her life.  Ash watched as the other men made their way towards her mum, before picking her up and beginning to chain her to the tree. One of the men pulled out a large knife which had the young girl screaming at the top of her lungs, “Leave my mummy alone! Just leave her alone you bully! Dont touch her!”  the men just laughed at her, mocking her pitiful cries. She was unceremoniously thrown into the backseat of one of the vehicles, effectively cutting off her view of the men outside.

The young man climbed into the driver's seat, this was his first assignment within the force and he was disgusted by the behaviour of the team. His gaze travelled out the side window just in time to watch the team commander behead the young woman they had just killed, his stomach turned even further when the men began taking turns carving something into the body as they chained her up to the tree and left her there for someone to find. With the signal from his commander he started the car and made haste towards the nearest hospital to get the young, tortured girl seen too as fast as possible, her eyes were drooping and she was beyond pale which scared him. He felt for the young girl, having to go through so much at a young age because of the wrongdoings of her father. 

                                                      ~present~

Ash would never forget the sounds of the crash, the shattering of the glass or the painful scream that left her mothers’ lips the moment before both their worlds went dark that day. The final words of her mother were painfully etched into her memory, a grim reminder of that fateful day, and in tribute to her fallen parent the words “A little weakness goes a long way” were tattooed above her heart, words she stuck to as much as possible. 

**

**

She sucked in a deep breath of air in an attempt to re-center herself with her surroundings and shake off the ghostly shivers of her broken past. She rubbed her hand across her face, wiping away the tears before scoffing out a vacant laugh. “Every damn year, without fail, I get these... these dreams about it ya know?. It’s like I can’t escape my past. I’m constantly thinking ‘what could I have done better, why couldn’t I have been a more grounded child’. If I had just controlled my anger my mum might still be here today” 

The broken sob that left the young soldier had the Colonels’ heart clenching in his chest and his hands tightening on the steering wheel, almost uncomfortably so. He knew all too well the effects blaming oneself had on the mind. There were many things he took the blame for or blamed himself for as an inexperienced officer in his younger days, he would not allow the girl beside him to fall into that trap any longer given there was likely a deeply buried explanation to the event, one he would commit to finding. While keeping a close eye on the road ahead he reached over to wrap Ash’s hand tightly beneath one of his own effectively hoping to silence her racing thoughts and give her something more tangible to focus on. She was one of his own now, a team member that needed to be looked after as thoroughly as possible, but also someone that, dare he say it, was slowly becoming more than that. 

Ash’s head shot up in surprise when she felt the large warm hand grasp her own, it brought a wave of unexpected comfort to her being, warming her to her core. Turning her attention from the hand over her own to the face of the man beside her she gulped. His shoulders were drawn up tight, hand gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles were white, his jaw was clenched to the point she could have sworn she heard his teeth grinding. His brow has drawn now and his mouth was drawn into a tight line, he was clearly displeased, no, angered by her past she just confessed, the anger that had settled in his deep brown eyes had a chill racing down her spine, it was a look of cold calculation, one she was sure many of has enemies had seen moments before their death. Gathering a small amount of courage she covered his hand with her other and began rubbing small unconscious circles into the side of his thumb, letting a small relieved breath when she saw some of the tension leave his body.

**

**

A short time had passed and they had reached the hospital; the tension had now left Ash’s body, with the weight of telling Carrillo about some of her destructive past now off her shoulders she felt like the awkwardness of the previous week had been all but forgotten. Her now unwavering trust in the man beside her somewhat frightened her, coupled in with the ever growing feelings she knew she was in far too deep. There was a silent agreement between the two of them that Ash would go to the medics while Carrillo would head to the archives to try and find files that would be useful to the team, they would reconvene at the car within the next two hours. 

Upon entering the hospital and being directed to the outpatient clinic Ash was greeted by a very familiar face, “Captain Lisa Ortiz, my god it has been too long”. The smile that graced her face was pure and genuine, seeing a long lost family friend after so long was a relief and a huge shock to the system, but a good one at that. Ash wasn’t even aware that the Captain had returned from deployment, the last time she’d seen the woman was at her graduation parade when Ash had not long turned eighteen. She had grown up down the road from the amazing woman and as it turned out the Captain was now dating her favourite Lieutenant, Lt. Henry O’Connor. 

“My god, little Ashy is that you, come over here girl” Captain Ortiz beckoned her over before wrapping her in a bear hug, she used to babysit the kid when she was a young tot, and furthermore after her mother had passed. Ash’s father, more often than not, would drop her on the Ortiz family doorstep and disappear for weeks on end, she had all but raised this girl and was proud that she had followed her dreams and joined the force. “Right, you, we have some catching up to do, head down to the third room on the right and I’ll be there after I’ve found your files”  she had pointed down the corridor signaling the direction she wanted the 2nd Lieutenant to go, a pleased smile gracing her face when she watched the young thing wander off with a new found bounce in her step. 

Ash was startled from her thoughts when the Captain entered the room before plonking herself down rather ungracefully into the chair beside her. “I read the report Greys, what the fuck! Have they found who did that to you? That's some messed up shit girl, glad you’re ok though kiddo” She reached over and ruffled Ash’s hair not giving her a moment to answer the questions thrown at her before standing up to grab some gloves and some tools to begin removing the younger officers’ stitches.  “Right up on the bed, shirt off, I’m sure by now you’ll be wanting those stitches out”

Ash only nodded, shaking her head with a brief laugh before pulling her shirt over her head and climbing onto the bed like she was asked, she was far to content to do as she was told given how much she trusted the woman before her, she’d admired her since she was a small child and inspired to be like her even now. Lisa began carefully removing the stitches from her side, poking and prodding here and there to make sure she was most definitely healed like she should be, when one particularly hard poke had Ash wincing, she knew the Captain had found the slightly marred skin from where she had pulled those stitches. 

“So...” the Captain began, “I heard a dit Greys. About you, a certain LT. Colonel and then a certain international guest. Care to share?”. 

The shiteating grin that was currently taking up Lisa’s face told Ash all she needed to know. The Captain already knew everything about the whole ‘Sinclair situation’ so there really wasn’t much to tell there, but from what she remembered about the slightly older woman, she always got the answers she wanted, Ash really couldn’t hide anything from her if she tried. “Damn it Lisa, just spit it out, what do you wanna know” she said with a jeering tone, she knew forgoing rank with the Captain wouldn’t drop her in the shit, the benefits of knowing someone since you were five years old. It was funny watching Lisa try and find the right words to say, the furrowing of her brow and the opening and closing of her mouth like a fish out of water nearly had Ash in tears, it was quite the sight.

**

**

“From what I’ve heard the LT. Colonel was a bit of an asshole to you, kid. But I also remember a certain eighteen year old having it bad for him when she attended my graduation parade. I wonder who that could be...” Lisa trailed off with a chuckle. She was sure that by now Ash had all but forgotten about her nagging antics involving the man she no doubt despised nowadays, but it was still a moment of great amusement for the Captain. “Little eighteen year old you just wouldn’t shut up about him. Sinclair this, Sinclair that, honestly kid I'm surprised you never tried to jump that dick near the end of training”  Ortiz paused for a moment, considering something before having a light bulb moment, “Unless it's because of a certain Columbian hunk I’ve heard so much about from some of the medics in your intake...”  She knew she’d hit the jackpot when Ash blushed beet-red from her hairline to her neck. “Awww, does little Ashy have a crush on the big bad Colonel?”

Ash didn’t know what to say, she had honestly forgotten about how she had crushed on the LT. Colonel before she really even knew him, embarrassingly enough her reactions towards him kind of made sense now. She was going to attempt to deny her ever mounting crush on the Colonel she now lived and worked with but given the reaction Lisa had given, she knew she’d been caught out.  “Even after all these years you’re still a gossiping teen” Ash choked out with a laugh, shaking her head with a big smile on her face, “And pffft no, I do not have a crush on anyone. Thank you very much”. Even to her own ears the lie was so evident in her voice, there was definitely no denying she did have a crush on the aforementioned man, but that was despite the point. 

“OH yeah, for sure. Definitely. You sound so sure about that Greys. Come on now, between friends, what's it like living with that god of a man? I’ve only seen some pictures but holy damn girl, if you don’t ride that dick that I’m going to get you sent to the block, because denying that man that would be a crime!” The pure childlike glee that passed through the Captains body at witnessing the utter shock of her words became clear to Ash and had her curling over in laughter. Never in her life has she seen someone look so offended yet also curious at the idea.

“Hey put it this way, if that man is cuffing me. I’ll happily go right to horny jail” Ash huffed out between laughs, god it was good to be around someone who thought like her and wasn’t afraid of talking shit at work, it was gold. It felt good to genuinely laugh with someone she knew and cherished, it had been far too long. 

“Anyway Greys, better get you all wrapped up and sent on your way back to your mans before he gets grumpy and you get told off. Although secretly I’m sure you’d just love that” She walked over to the desk and gathered up some papers that she needed Ash to give to her new Commanding Officer before writing out some prescriptions for more painkillers and nausea meds that she knew would come in handy in the future.  “I need you to give these papers to the Colonel for me” she pointed to the stack tucked into an envelope, “And these ones are for you little lady. Please do keep me posted about that handsome hunk you live with. And don’t let Henry annoy you too much when he gets to the house, I’m sure you’ll have your hands full though. Good luck Greys!”  and with one final tight hug she let the young officer go. Watching her plod down the hallway with a dopey smile on her face. Before she could forget she flicked her partner a text:

To: Future Hubbster

~ baby it seems you’ll have the perfect opportunity to have some fun in your new posting. Our little Ashy-bear has a crush on the Colonel, you HAVE to get them together somehow, we need our girl to be happy.

It was barely a minute later that her phone chimed, reading the message she had to shake her head with a laugh.

From: Future Hubbster

~ God I love you. Permission to make a certain Colonel jealous by any means necessary?

She quickly typed out a reply before hitting send and making her way back to the nurses desk to grab the papers for her next patient. She was sure that whatever her partner would do that it would for sure stir up some shit in the team, one of the many reasons she loved that troublemaker.

To: Future Hubbster

~permission granted, boy scout. Just don’t weird out our little Ashy or get kicked off the team. See you tonight baby xx

                                                  ----------

From that day onwards the energy in the house was no longer awkward. Carrillo and Ash had fallen back into a rhythm of eating meals together and just genuinely enjoying each other's company in the moments when they could relax.  Every Night at around twenty hundred hours they’d both find their way into the living room, generally Ash with a book and Carrillo with some kind of file that could potentially be helpful for their missions, reading quietly in comfortable silence had brought a sense of peace to the both of them. With the events from earlier in the week pushed to the side, but definitely not forgotten by either of them, they were back to being a well gelled team, a small team nonetheless but it worked well for them. 

Ash had not so subtly started doting on the man. She’d bring him coffee’s to the office during the day because he barely left the room when he got stuck in a rut reading paper after paper, her heart always warmed that extra little bit when he’d happily accept the cup and give her a small grateful smile, she always left the room with a blush on her cheeks and an added skip in her step. Sunday rolled round and Carrillo had seemingly disappeared from the house, and with him nowhere to be found Ash took it upon herself to finally go for a run. 

The property definitely seemed larger now she was running around the outside of it, she was becoming exhausted much faster than she would have liked and her side was rather sore from the effort. It was on her third lap of the property, the lap she had named ‘struggle street’ that she heard the sound of an approaching vehicle. Gapping it towards the house in an attempt to act like she hadn’t just been breaking the rules she made it just in time, rushing round her room and heading to the shower as fast as possible. The both of them had obviously learnt one thing from their moment in the living room nearly a week ago, always take your clothes into the bathroom and come out fully dressed, definitely a less awkward situation. Upon leaving the bathroom, fully clothed, she noticed a fresh set of groceries on the bench, it now made sense as to where the Colonel had disappeared to. 

Ash started out putting everything away neatly and into the designated spots, putting her favourite foods into easy to reach spots because while she was average height, some of the cupboards were just that little bit too tall for her to reach up into.  Once everything was put away she beelined for the couch and flicked on a random movie on tv, not intending to do much more than nap due to being beyond tired from her run, the dull ache of her muscles was a welcome feeling. Ash skipped dinner that night, still feeling far too tired from her exercise and instead chose to retire to bed early, but not before delivering a fresh cup of coffee to a very busy Carrillo.

Ash was starving when she woke up the next morning, stomach was growling and her body ached more than it had in a very long while, the good kind of overworked ache. Climbing rather ungracefully from her bed and into the kitchen, forgetting to put shorts on under the t-shirt she wore while in a tired state. Growing bored while waiting for the pot of coffee to finish she dug into the cupboard to grab a bowl and spoon in preparation for breakfast, wandering over to the fridge to get the milk before returning to her previous place, just in time for the coffee to be ready. Pouring the cup and taking a quick sip she felt herself begin to wake up, she definitely functioned better after the first cup of coffee in the morning, placing the cup down she reached up to the cupboard she usually kept her cereal in to make herself a bowl, only to find it wasn’t where she had put it yesterday upon unpacking the groceries. Huffing to herself in frustration she began checking the other cupboards, each one she opened came up empty, the frustration growing more and more when all the ones in her line of sight and reach didn’t contain her beloved Creamy Oats. It was then that it occurred to her there was one cupboard left to check, the highest up one that Carrillo usually kept any of his favourite stuff in, reaching up on tippy toes and flicking one of the doors open and she struck gold. From her placement she could see the logo of her cereal staring back at her, now she just had to reach it. Somehow. 

Caught up in trying to reach her cereal she failed to notice the Colonel leaning against his bedroom door watching silently from afar. He’d woken to the sound of the kitchen being ransacked only to laugh at what he was seeing. His plan it seemed, had worked, from his vantage point he was granted with quite the sight, long muscled legs, and a well toned ass were revealed as Ash tried to stretch as much as she could onto her tiptoes to reach the box of cereal he had deliberately placed at the back of ‘his’ cupboard. Smirking away to himself he slowly padded over to the kitchen, taking special care to dare not make a sound to alert her of his presence. 

Ash jumped when she felt a hand land softly on her side, her body tensed before relaxing all too quickly when she felt the penetrating heat of the man behind her. He reached up over her head, muscles bunching and pressed tightly against her effectively caging her in, grasped the box of cereal she was desperately trying to reach and reached down and placed it in front of her. She expected him to move away instantly but instead he stood there trapping her between the hard wood of the bench and the increasingly harder wood poking her in the lower back. One arm was still gripping her side, the other wrapped around her front with his hand played out on the bench, desperately close to where she needed it most. 

Testing the resolve of the officer behind her might not have been her brightest idea but she craved any kind of interaction or touch she could gain from this man. Ash pushed back on him, letting out a small pliant sound of need when she felt him twitch against the curve of her ass, the resulting groan she received from him had her buckling at the knees. His head moved down, mouth hovering against the shell of her ear, she could feel the harsh uneven breaths and when she ground down on him again, harder this time, she was rewarded with yet another deep  moan, one that sent a delighted shiver down her spine. She made a move to repeat the action but the hand on her side clamped down impossibly tight, efficiently halting her movements, the last thing she expected was for him to speak.

“Do that again, and you’ll find out how little control I really have” His voice was a mere whisper but it had the desired effect. 

Ash froze, processing the words. The sleepy lust filled drawl sent a punch of arousal straight to her core and a moan escaping her throat. She was almost tempted to see how far she could push him, but settled for subtly maneuvering herself to grab for her coffee and bring it closer, her throat was impossibly dry now and he was not helping the situation. 

The subtle movement brushed so lightly against him that in any other state it may have been  imperceptible but in this highly aroused state it made him want to return the favour. He leaned down slowly, gauging her reaction, before gently and fleetingly brushing his lips behind her ear, smirking softly against her skin when she tilted her head slightly to accommodate him, mouth agape. Never one to turn down an advantage he slowly moved his right hand towards her coffee cup, distracting her further by trailing his lips along the edge of her jaw towards her own lips. He continued his journey towards her lips, stopping only when his hand found purchase on the hot cup of coffee before her, before he retraced his previous path, this time stopping every few centimeters to mouth at underside of her jaw, when he reached his intended target he sealed the deal. He nibbled at the soft skin beneath her ear, sucking lightly to leave the barest of marks but one the both of them would know was there, he blew softly on the skin, lips once again pulling into a smirk when she threw her head back against his bare shoulder. He leant his head against the side of her own, gently nuzzling against her before he growled out lowly, “Thanks for the Coffee Ash” and then as if he wasn’t affected by the current situation, he stepped back, groaning at the loss of pressure against his painfully hard cock. 

To say Ash was an undignified mess wouldn’t be far from the truth, but even in her current state of dizzying arousal she wouldn’t let him have the last word. She spun on her heel, briefly stunned while watching the muscles on his back bunch and twist as he made his way back to his room, before she remembered her mission. “Sir..” she tempted in a voice dripping with sin, smirking proudly when she saw his shoulders tense and his head shoot up in a hurry, obviously not expecting her to speak back, “When you start something next time, I expect you to finish it” and with those as her final words she turned around, leaning heavily against the bench for support, barely resisting the urge to get herself off where she stood, Colonel be damned. 

Carrillo only just had his door closed and the coffee cup discard before he was desperately pulling himself from his shorts. In less than a dozen strokes and with a barely concealed yell he had spilled into his own hand, moving across the floor he reached down to pick up a discarded t-shirt to clean up his mess. Sitting down on his bed to catch his breath he had to laugh at the situation, he had underestimated the young woman, severely so, and now he’d crossed a line he never had before. He was in deep, far too deep to continue to deny his true feelings for the junior officer. He flopped back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling before growling out a string of curse words in his native tongue. That girl really knew how to get under his skin.

[antisocial-af]

Day 21: Sophie/Gideon

Title: A Family Meal

25 Days of Pairings: Day 21 Sophie/Gideon

Rating: G

Wordcount: 2352

No Major Archive Warnings

SFW, Fluff, Winter, Book Timeline, Child Barbara and Eugenia, Pregnant Sophie, Overprotective/Caring Gideon. 

Summary:

Gideon attempts to arrange something for his pregnant wife.

Click Here to Read on Ao3

Story:

Gideon paced back and forth, his hair bouncing slightly with each nervous step. 

“Gideon,” Sophie sighed, “I’m okay. It’s just a litt...” The pregnant Shadowhunter quickly lurched and grabbed for the nearby wastebasket, thinking of how unpleasant the day’s earlier lunch had become as her body rejected it.  

Gideon stood at attention, holding her long dark hair back and out of her way, his free hand rubbing a gentle circle along Sophie's back. 

“Are you certain you are okay? I can reach out to the silent brother or Charlotte.”  Gideon quickly rambled on, not so much as a breath between thoughts. “No, no, no. It would just cause Will to call out to Jem! He is always looking for a way to pull him from the silent city; he will see it as a favor.” 

Sophie loudly cleared her throat, stopping the rambling Lightwood, as she carefully sat up, pulling a handkerchief that was tucked within her dress, delicately dabbing the corner of her mouth before continuing. 

“As I was saying, Gideon,” she chided, still putting extra emphasis on his name, “I’m fine, my dear, this is not our first pregnancy, and we have no clue if it is to be our last.” 

Sophie extended a hand, silently asking for Gideon’s assistance in standing. Her husband immediately responded, placing a hand on her back to steady her while allowing his other hand to be used by Sophie to push herself up. Confidently Sophie stood one hand resting on her stomach protectively, her abdomen starting to show the first tale sign of her pregnancy. 

“Soph, I insist we just need to make sure you’re oka...”

Gideon heard the sound of frustration escape his wife's lips and slightly reeled back. The look in Sophie’s eyes held him silent as he had seen before and expected the storm to be arriving shortly. It happened before with Sophie’s two previous pregnancies.   

“That is enough, Gideon! Please go. I can not have you fussing over me like this, this is our 3rd pregnancy, and we have two beautiful angels to show for it .” Sofie took a breath before she continued, “I can not have you here at this moment as I do not wish to yell at you, please go keep Barbara and Eugenia Company, and I will return to you once I’m better.” 

“Bu…”

“No buts Gideon go,” she pointed toward the door. “I promise you I'm okay, but I need you to do this for now … please,” she added, her fatigue clearly showing. 

Gideon nodded in response, gently placing a kiss on Sophie's head before laying her down. “If you insist, but I will be near with the girls in case you need something. Just call out, and I will be back by your side, Sophie.” 

Sophie smiled up at him; a part of her was sad to see him go, but Gideon had been with her since they woke up, continually asking if she needed something; it was sweet and endearing to see her husband this way; Sophie just needed some rest right now. 

Gideon closed the door softly behind himself and started to hesitantly wander down the hall, the worry in his mind dissipating as he reached his daughters’ playroom. 

“Oh, what are my little angels up to?” he playfully called out to the girl as he opened the room and greeted the little ones playing with their dolls. 

To the betterment of his mood, he was greeted with Daddy and papa alike from his youngest as they made their way to him in excitement, Barbara taking care to bring her younger sister with her.  Just as they were to collide with his legs, Gideon made an easy effort to scoop them both up in one of his arms, Delivering affectionate pecks on the cheeks to each girl. 

Gideon smiled wide, holding onto his daughter as he whispered to them, “Mommy is asleep, so we are going to help her make dinner. Do you want to help daddy make dinner?”

“Yes,” Barbara declared in the best whisper a four-year-old was capable of, raising her tiny fist in the air from excitement; her sister imitating her with a sound Gideon would assume to be an agreement in some way. 

“Well then, what are we waiting for? Let’s go “ He held onto the girls bouncing them in his arms along the way to the kitchen, a quiet stream of laughter breaking through the house. 

Determined, Gideon made it to the kitchen, knowing well he was not the best cook. But he was sure he knew enough that one dinner should not pose to be an impossible challenge. Gideon and his daughter would conquer this so that Sophie could rest without worry.

When they reached the kitchen, Gideon gently lowered Barbara to the ground and kept his youngest in his arms. 

“Hello, my Eugenia,” he cooed to his youngest, lifting her in the air, her chubby cheek breaking into a smile that warmed his heart. Carefully he seated her in a custom-crafted high chair made by their close family friend, Henry Branwell. After clasping a function lock in the feature made to make sure no harm would come to Eugenia, he placed a small bowl of cut-up fruit for finger foods and a few of her favorite toys to keep her happy. 

“Now, you be good. Daddy’s going to be right here,“ Gideon smiled as he stepped away and noticed Barbara gravitating a step behind him and away from the stovetop; Sophie had made sure to teach their oldest how to behave in the kitchen. 

Gideon made reasonably quick and clean work of preparing the dinner for the evening. A small side salad and chicken they planned on roasting whole accompanied with baby potatoes; ingredients all that had been purchased early in the day from a local London Market. He took care of the bird and prepared the various salad toppings for Barbara to mix for their salad before putting it away to stay fresh. 

Soon it was time for the bird to come out from their wood-burning oven; satisfied with the result, Gideon declared the dinner a success. A confident smile of victory found its way onto Gideon’s face until he turned and saw Barbara pouting.

“What is wrong, my darling? You did great helping daddy,” Gideon praised as he bent down on one knee to see his oldest eye to eye.

“B-but I want to help more,” she stuck her bottom lip out unknowingly taking advantage of Gideon’s quickly melting heart. 

“Oh, darling, I'm sure we can find something. Just give me one moment, I promise,” Gideon guaranteed as he kissed her nose. On his search, he stopped to check in on Eugenia, who had since finished her snacks and currently clutching a toy sleepily, her light blue eyes drooping from exhaustion. Gideon lifted her from her confines and placed her in a nearby crib to sleep, and near enough, he could keep watch over her. The cries that came after his step made his error known. Gideon quickly scooped Eugenia back out and swayed on his feet, speaking gently into her ear as he kept searching for something Barbara could assist in making.

Gideon's life was quickly becoming complicated, cooing to a crying infant in one arm, trying to find something to do with Barbara, and desperately searching for a card he swore he tucked in a drawer in the kitchen. Eugenia's mood began to turn for the better, and so seemed Gideon's luck as he pulled a piece of paper trapped underneath a cooking textbook on the carved wooden counter. 

“Found it!” he cheered louder than intended, holding the card up and quickly reading over it to confirm the needed ingredients were available in their home. 

“Barbara, we are going to learn how to make some sweets together. How does that sound?” he announced to his oldest while still attempting to soothe the now quiet and once again sleepy Eugenia. 

“Like the sweet you and mommy get from the shadow market?” Barbara excitedly asked, going over to her dad to reach for the card he had. 

“Absolutely my ball of joy,” Gideon carefully started to gather all the ingredients on the card and a big bowl for them to use. “I’ll hand you the ingredients, and you put them on the table for us, okay?” 

“I can do that!” his oldest proclaimed proudly and started to take the items from him.

“Okay, now you read me the instructions, and I’ll put them in,” Gideon guided as he followed with the bowl and Eugenia still in his arms, now asleep. Barbara’s efforts at reading the recipe were intense and showed how much his oldest was growing. Gideon started to mix the items in carefully, not o mess up but also not wake the little one in his arms. As he continued following Barbara’s directions, it slowly dawned on him that a third would be joining his children. Gideon didn’t want to think about how he would handle all three at once, but he was determined to find a way.

“Now we roll it!” Barbara read back with a cheer, causing her little sister to shift in their dad’s arms. 

Gabriel rolled out the cookie dough, suggesting that they should attempt to cut the dough into tree shapes. In the end, they looked interestingly shaped. Gideon carefully and gently placed Eugenia back in the crib, slowly stepping away as he did so as not to wake her. Once far away and sure his youngest was asleep, Gideon placed the cookies into the oven leaving an eager Barbara and nervous Gideon to wait. 

Gideon passed the time by cleaning up the kitchen with Barbara while Eugenia slept. He managed to peek in on Sophie under the guise of bringing her some water. Gideon noticed right away she was still asleep and left the water at the bedside table quietly and made his exit. He went back into the kitchen and checked over his daughters before the cookies in the oven. Gideon carefully removed the cookies from their wood-burning oven, placing them on the countertop to cool. Whether these creations would be considered trees would be another debate, but the look in Barbara’s eye told Gideon she was happy with them. 

“Now let go check on Mommy, my little flower,” he called out to his eldest once more, only to turn and find Sophie leaning against the entrance to the kitchen.

“Mommy!” cried Barbara running to cling to her leg.

“Darling,” Gideon called out in endearment, walking over and wrapping an arm around her waist so he could offer her steadying support. “I do hope you’re feeling better.” 

“Of course I’m feeling better, dear” Sophie rolled her eyes. “I told you I was okay, but you are so quick to panic sometimes, I do not know if I should be endeared or worried,”  she teased her husband, drawing a heated blush from Gideon.

“Your health comes first, Sophie.”

“Yes, it does, and I promise you, I will tell you if anything is ever wrong,” She leaned into her husband, her advances met in kind as they placed a gentle kiss on one another. This was poorly received from their little peanut gallery as Barbra exclaimed eww and began to insist on showing mommy her hard work instead. 

“Oh, hard work, you say, Barbara?” Sophie smiled, her scar looking softer in the light cast from the kitchen window. “And what did you do?”

“I helped daddy cook food for you, so you don't have to, Mommy!”

“Oh, is that so sweet, baby?” Sophie picked her daughter up, hugging her to her chest as she turned and gave Gideon a look of worry, knowing his competency for cooking. 

Gideon shook his head before responding, “I’m proud to say that I have managed to not only cook dinner this time without burning anything, but our angel here helped make some sweets; I obtained the recipe from Charlotte.”

Sophie gave the food a skeptical gaze. She handed a cookie to Barbara and Gideon before picking up a cookie with hesitation for herself. She bit into the slightly soft-baked good and gave her approval quickly. Sophie found herself just as fast going for another. 

“Not too bad this time, Mr. Lightwood,” Sophie smiled and turned her oldest. “It’s probably because you helped him, isn’t it, my sweet girl?”

“Of course, only the best for my wife, and Barbara was the best helper I could ask for. She kept me on task.” 

Sophie rolled her eyes again as she snuck under Gideon’s arm, leaning into his side before speaking, “Let’s get everyone together to eat, then bed and a story for our daughters.”

Barbara whined when she heard about their plans but gave little protest afterward. The food was soon finished, the cookies were mostly gone, and the girls had been put back to bed as the night carried peacefully on with Gideon and Sophie in the kitchen.

Gideon worked on cleaning up what was still left from them, eating dinner as his wife approached him from behind.

“Thank you for dinner. It was very thoughtful,” Sophie said as Gideon turned to face her, the two wrapping their arms around one another. 

“I know I can worry and go a little overboard. I just worry,” Gideon confessed, lovingly caressing her scarred cheek. “You have given me everything; it only serves that I seek to return the same for you, my love.”  

“Gideon, you have shown me more kindness and love than I have ever expected. We have each other, our family, and our friends; you have always made sure I was appreciated and more. Never forget that” she confided to Gideon. 

Gideon’s cheeks once more tinted at his wife’s earnest statement. Gideon felt his words failing to measure to what was currently burning through him, so he went with the only five words that could come close to gracing that feeling. 

“I love you, Sophie Lightwood.”

“And I love you, Gideon Arthur Lightwood,” Sophie returned as she leaned forward and kissed him.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

June 21, 2021

Heather Cox Richardson

Lawmakers today are jockeying before tomorrow’s test vote in the Senate on S1, the For the People Act. This is a sweeping bill that protects the right to vote, ends partisan gerrymandering, limits the influence of money in politics, and establishes new ethics rules for presidents and other federal officeholders.

Passing election reform is a priority for Democrats, since Republican-dominated legislatures across the country have gerrymandered states to make it almost impossible for Democrats to win majorities and, since President Biden took office, have passed laws suppressing the vote and making it easier for Republican state officials to swing elections to their candidates no matter what voters want.

But it is not just Democrats who want our elections to be cleaner and fairer. S1 is so popular across the nation—among voters of both parties—that Republican operatives agreed in January that there was no point in trying to shift public opinion on it. Instead, they said, they would just kill it in Congress. This conversation, explored in The New Yorker by Jane Mayer, happened just after it became clear that Democrats had won a Senate majority and thus Mitch McConnell (R-KY), who had previously been Senate Majority Leader, would no longer be able to stop any legislation Republicans didn’t like.

Still, Republican senators can deploy the filibuster, which permits just 41 of the 50 Republican senators to stop the act from passing. It is possible for the Democrats to break a filibuster, but only if they are all willing. Until recently, it seemed they were not. Senator Joe Manchin (D-WV), a conservative Democrat in a Republican-dominated state, opposed some of the provisions in S1 and was adamant that he would not vote for an election reform bill on partisan lines. He wanted bipartisan support.

Last week, Manchin indicated which of the measures in the For the People Act—and in the John Lewis Voting Rights Advancement Act—he will support. In a mixture of the priorities of the leadership of each party, he called for expanding access to voting, an end to partisan gerrymandering, voter ID, automatic registration at motor vehicle offices, making Election Day a holiday, and making it easier for state officials to purge voters from the rolls.

Democrats across the ideological spectrum immediately lined up behind Manchin’s compromise. Republican leadership immediately opposed it, across the board. They know that fair voting practices will wreck them. Today, McConnell used martial language when he said he would give the measure “no quarter.”

Tomorrow, Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer (D-NY) will bring up for a vote not the measure itself, but whether to begin a debate on such a measure. “Tomorrow, the Senate will also take a crucial vote on whether to start debate on major voting rights legislation,” Schumer said today. “I want to say that again—tomorrow the Senate will take a vote on whether to start debate on legislation to protect Americans’ voting rights. It’s not a vote on any particular policy.”

Republicans can use the filibuster to stop a debate from going forward. Getting a debate underway will require 60 votes, and there is currently no reason to think any Republicans will agree. This will put them in the untenable spot of voting against talking about voting rights, even while Republicans at the state level are passing legislation restricting voting rights. So the vote to start a debate on the bill will fail but will highlight the hypocrisy of Republican lawmakers.

Perhaps more to the point in terms of passing legislation, it will test whether the work the Democrats did over the weekend incorporating Manchin’s requests to the measure have brought him on board.

If so, and if he gets frustrated with Republican refusal to compromise at all while the Democrats immediately accepted his watering down of their bill, it is possible he and Senator Kyrsten Sinema (D-AZ), who has also signaled support for the filibuster in its current form, will be willing to consider altering it. The Senate could, for example, turn it back into its traditional form—a talking filibuster—or carve out voting rights bills as they have carved out financial bills and judicial nominations.

There are signs that the Democrats are preparing for an epic battle over this bill. Today White House Press Secretary Jen Psaki indicated that the administration hopes the vote will show that all 50 Senate Democrats are now on board and that they will find a new way forward if the Republicans do not permit a debate.

More telling, perhaps, is an eye-popping op-ed published yesterday in the Wall Street Journal by Mike Solon, a former assistant to McConnell, and Bill Greene, a former outreach director for former House Speaker John Boehner; both men are now lobbyists. In order to defend the filibuster, they argue that the measure protects “political nobodies” from having to pay attention to politics. If legislation could pass by a simple majority, Americans would have to get involved. The system, they suggest, is best managed by a minority of senators.

“Eliminating the Senate filibuster would end the freedom of America’s political innocents,” they write. “The lives that political nobodies spend playing, praying, fishing, tailgating, reading, hunting, gardening, studying and caring for their children would be spent rallying, canvassing, picketing, lobbying, protesting, texting, posting, parading and, above all, shouting.”

The authors suggest misleadingly that the men who framed the Constitution instituted the filibuster: they did not. They set up a Senate in which a simple majority passed legislation. The filibuster, used to require 60 votes to pass any legislation, has been deployed regularly only since about 2008.

But that error is minor compared to the astonishing similarity between this op-ed and a speech by South Carolina Senator James Henry Hammond in 1858, when he rose to explain to his colleagues that the American system was set up to make sure lawmakers could retain control no matter what a majority of Americans wanted. Hammond was one of the nation’s leading enslavers and was desperate to make sure his party’s policies could not be overridden by the majority.

Voting only enabled people to change the party in charge, he said. “It was not for the people to exercise political power in detail… it was not for them to be annoyed with the cares of government.”

Hammond explained that the world is made up of two classes: those who ”do the menial duties… perform the drudgery of life. That is, a class requiring but a low order of intellect and but little skill….. It constitutes the very mud-sill of society and of political government.” On them, he explained, rests “that other class which leads progress, civilization, and refinement.”

It was imperative, he said, to retain these distinctions in politics. The South had managed such a thing, while the North, he warned, had not. “Our slaves do not vote. We give them no political power. Yours do vote, and, being the majority, they are the depositaries [sic] of all your political power. If they knew the tremendous secret, that the ballot-box is stronger than ‘an army with banners,’... where would you be? Your society would be reconstructed, your government overthrown, your property, divided, not… with arms in their hands, but by the quiet process of the ballot-box.”

—-

Notes:

https://www.newyorker.com/news/news-desk/inside-the-koch-backed-effort-to-block-the-largest-election-reform-bill-in-half-a-century

https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/elections/manchin-proposes-compromise-voting-bills-n1271058

https://talkingpointsmemo.com/news/schumer-republican-debate-voting-bill-for-the-people

https://apnews.com/article/donald-trump-joe-biden-senate-elections-bills-election-2020-1a9b201f9234e2050496768be995ea2f

https://www.wsj.com/articles/the-filibuster-helps-nobody-and-that-means-you-11624226249

James Henry Hammond, “Speech on the Admission of Kansas…,” in Selections from the Letters and Speeches of James H. Hammond (New York: John F. Trow & Co., 1866), 301-322, available at Google Books (for free).

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[migleefulmoments]

Please, please, please publish Abby’s new diatribe as I have apparently been blocked (or perhaps just don’t know enough about tumblr to find it). I’m dying to see what she worked on for two months to justify her existence!

Anonymous said: Oh dear, looks like Abby’s family didn’t get her help after all, a lost cause then, what an absolute waste of a life. It’s actually sad. A shame her family didn’t get her help

Le sigh...she is not well. She hasn’t learned one thing while she’s been away and she still has the exact same grievances- mostly about how much she hates Mia and how much she feels sorry for herself because we aren’t lapping up her fantasy and showering her with adoration for being the leader of the ccship. Her main complaint, the reason she popped back in to write the same tired complaints and criticisms, is that she’s tired of people blaming Darren for the ccsituation. It’s always about her love for ccDarren and her need to absolve him of all responsibility for all of the things the cc fandom dislike about him and his life. IT’S ALWAYS MIA’S FAULT and the defacto fandom leaders aren’t reminding everyone “it’s never Darren’s fault” and “always blame Mia’s”.

She lashes out to criticize the “hate blogs” but ultimately she blames Ricky and Mia for EVERYTHING including the “attack on her family” (which of course, was NOT an attack on her family, it was a plea for her family to get her some help).  She claims “they” tried to shut her up and then lists all the evidence that “they” tried to end her blog:  HER copyright strikes (lots of us have one) and the “hate” blogs before listing individual grievances against several bloggers, amping up the grievance for dramatic effect and making it seem like they were coordinated, well-planned attacks against her. She negates her own part e.g. I published the photo ONLY after she dared me to several times. All of this because  “If this is what they were willing to do to me, a mere fan, imagine what they are well to do to him, their absolute life sources?” “They” aka Mia and Ricky.  

I found it hard to read. She’s not in a good place.  

***************************************  

Hello CCLand!  Have you missed me?  I know I have missed you all.  This post is not me coming back, frankly, I still have not decided how I want to navigate the future, but for the past 2 months all of this has been festering inside, so I need to post and make a few points.

First and foremost, I want to say that I am incredibly proud of my blog. I spent 5 years building a relationship with my readers and trying to provide a voice for 2 people who have been marginalized and frankly had their voices largely muted. I will never apologize for this or feel bad about it. Nor will I feel bad about pointing a finger at people that I know are truly evil.  

I am far from perfect and I admit, I made 2 massive errors.  I overshared because I was naive and never thought the information would be used against me.  And I did not pay enough attention to the hate blogs and their threats.

This was a blog that I started when I first learned about CC and frankly it grew out of love and a need to try to bring justice to a person that is absolutely a victim of a completely antiquated and abusive system.  Further, I don’t THINK D is closeted, I KNOW D is closeted.  And I have substantial facts to back up that statement.  I never intended to become the most read CC blog or to meets so many wonderful an amazing people that I admire, but that is what happened and that has given me great joy.

But with the good comes the bad, and what happened to me is absolutely sick and depraved.  And I am writing this post in hopes that someone will read it and see just how fucked up the behavior of a few “fans” has been towards me and to help them to extend this to what has been done to D and C.  Please do not feel sad for me, or send me sympathy, it is not my point.  But I hope that perhaps it will inspire some of you to be more active and to fight a little harder as I try to navigate the harassment that occurred to my family.

Pretty much since I started to write, I have been receiving hate, something to be expected when you join a fandom like this. But at some point, it became much more frequent and took a turn from manageable hate to harassment and bullying.  In October of 2017, I got my first ask with my full name and from that day forward there has been an active attempt to try to bullying me off the internet. Now ask why that is?  I am just a fan, with what most think is a crazy belief, with a relatively small following. I do not and have not tagged the players nor do I contact them directly. I have never been anything but incredibly polite to  D and C, and frankly I have ignored M whenever I have been in her presence because she is not worthy of my time or energy. I have never reached out to them over SM to make one statement about fandom. So why such an effort to silence my voice?  Especially if it is as insignificant as they claim?  

They tried deleting my blog, that failed. They tried with copyright infringements but I got smarter about making sure to post links.  So, what did they do?  They started with vicious attacks on my character on their hate blogs. Posting my full name and image.  Analyzing every word i wrote, desperately trying to debunk me, stating that i had severe mental health issues.  Tagged C, W, and A/lla to warn them about my presence at a book signing.  They stalked my friends and I at a festival, made false accusations, and published a photo. This meant that had to seek us out, locate where we were sitting and wait for a moment when they could get an image that they could twist to their favor.  That is insane. And there is no way to twist it to say its normal or expected.

But that apparently was enough harassment.  They threatened my work and my career.  Next, they started to stalk my family on the internet and use a devastating injury and a charity to harass and bully my family to the point that I did have to make the painful decision to not just stop posting but to protect my blog. This is completely vile and inexcusable behavior.  And the fact that it was not stopped, is a strong statement about the people clearly in control.

Why am I recounting? Because I want people to wake up and stop blaming D for every twist and turn.  If this is what they were willing to do to me, a mere fan, imagine what they are well to do to him, their absolute life sources? I am just another body left behind in the carnage, D is their source of money and fame. And not just his team and his “bride” but all of the people that have ridden his coattails to have name recognition.  

I wish people would realize this is not choose your own adventure book, D is a human who has been held against his will due to an enormous amount of power they clearly wield over him. How do you not see that if he could, he would end this?  This has not been about him being straight in so long, straight is how they control him and how they are able to make M relevant.  

And if you though this was a choice, how were you not woken up in the days following his dad’s death? I would guess not 48 hours after he buried his father, he was dragged from his mother’s home, forced to play dress up and pose for a ridiculous, cruel and inhumane set of pics.  D has lied about many things, but never about his parents, he has always been nothing but reverent when he speaks about them and his love and respect for them is clear.

Clearly, I have not gone anywhere, and I am still watching and reading every word. I have actually been incredibly proud of D during the majority of press for HW.  He has made so many statements that are a foundation for the truth, including telling us that young actors do things that they later learn to regret, telling us that HW has not changed, and stating that the person you see has a story we will never know.  

The press to legitimize and canonize M has been laughable and beyond transparent. It is so obvious this is on his list of required duties and the fact that they did not pause if for 1 week when his dad died is absolute proof that this is not a choice.

I do have to laugh at the irony of the d “quote” about fans being mean to his poor “wife” (that he himself has called a big girl).  So it is ok to bully a fan off the internet to the point that they stalked and harassed my family (and it does not matter if his was led by his team, her, her friends, or a fan in her name), but it is not ok for a small handful of fans to discuss the sad reality and point the finger at the truth?

Anyhow, this got way too long, but it has all been building up inside.  This blog was  such a massive part of my life and I miss it and you more than words can say. I encourage all of you to keep supporting these incredible men, I have no doubt they are worth it. I do think they next few months will bring about change, but what they change is, we still don’t know. I hope that D wins sooner than later. I am not certain how much longer he can be expected to sustain this weight.   If you reached this point, thank you for reading.    I am going back to my quiet corner now.  

[timeoutforthee]

Like it or Not-Chapter 25

Taglist: @itsausernamenotafobsong, @sea-blue-child, @iaminmultiplefandoms, @princeanxious, @uwillbeefoundtonight, @zaidiashipper, @arandompasserby, @levyredfox3, @falsett0, @error-i-dunno-what-went-wrong, @scrapbookofsketches, @podcastsandcoffee, @helloisthisusernametaken, @amuthefunperson, @michealawithana, @yamihatarou, @heck-im-lost, @unlikelynightmareconnoisseur, @idkaurl, @bubblycricket, @fnp-alizay, @neonbluetiefling, @comicsimpson, @a-little-bit-of-ace

Summary: Logan, Patton, Roman, and Virgil are all struggling in their recovery. Their doctors, Thomas Sanders and Emile Picani think they can help each other out.

Aka Group Therapy AU

Trigger Warnings: disordered eating habits, death mentioned, parents not understanding mental health, general ignorance, parents fighting

Read it on AO3!

On the one hand, Logan’s support system was growing stronger. On the other hand, he started to see the cracks in its foundation.

Patton and the others seemed to be willing to celebrate any small victory, but his parents had much higher standards for him. They didn’t know what their son was struggling with, they just knew they wanted it to end.

Obviously, Logan thought to himself, They are my parents. They love me. They want me to feel better.

That was the mantra he repeated to himself, but some days it seemed less about love and more about convenience.

“What do you mean by that?” Thomas asks him.

“I mean…,” Logan trails off, unsure of how to phrase this, “They just don’t...understand. And part of that’s my fault, I haven’t taken the time to properly educate them, but sometimes I wonder, if I stopped this tomorrow, would they be happier?”

“It’s not your job to educate them,” Thomas says.

“It feels like it is,” Logan admits, “How else are they supposed to learn?”

“They’re adults, Logan, they should take the initiative to research themselves.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Well, then, they’re not being very supportive, are they?” Logan is quiet at that. “Have they been supporting you, Logan?”

It takes Logan a while, but he finally says, slowly, “No.”

“How do they react to this, then?”

“They ignore it.” They ignore me.

“Can you elaborate on that?”

“They take me to therapy, but we’re silent in the car. We don’t talk about therapy, they’ve never even asked about what I’m coming here for. They’re against me taking a psychology class. And there are certain things I have to do that they don’t understand and I-”

“Wait, pause there. What do you mean there are things you have to do?”

“Like I have to eat my food a certain way. Like I have to keep track of my calories. It’s just something I have to do.”

“I see, are there any more rituals you have to do that aren’t related to food?”

“No,” Logan says, “Well…”

"Yes?"

"There was the instance, when I was younger."

^

Logan was eight when he learned about death.

His grandfather passed away, quietly in his sleep, and suddenly death felt a little too real. He had seen it in movies and tv shows, but now suddenly it felt like it was around the corner. He knew it wasn’t after him, necessarily, but the main person he worried about was his grandmother.

So every time he visited, he’d leave, dragging his feet behind his parents, before turning and walking back up the steps to knock on her door. She’d open the door, and he’d nod, satisfied. But not for long. He had to walk down the steps and turn back around at least two more times before he would finally pick up his feet and follow his parents to their car.

“Why does he do that?” his grandmother asked one day when she thought he wasn’t listening. Logan had closed his eyes during a movie, and now he was slumped over on the couch. But he wasn’t asleep yet. “It’s annoying, you know.”

“Aww,” his mother replied, “I think it’s funny when he does that.”

“I do too,” his father said, shrugging, “Kids are a handful. At least with Logan it’s something as tame as knocking on the door a few extra times.”

“So you’re not going to stop him?” his grandmother says, her annoyance creeping in.

“Come on, Mom, it’s just a little quirk, he’ll grow out of it,” his mother says.

Mental health has a funny way of expressing itself, especially in kids. How people reacted to it could change the whole trajectory of an illness, completely changing their lives. And when it came down to it, when Logan started acting a little different, his family laughed it off.

Logan didn’t grow out of his knocking ritual, it only ended when his grandmother passed. And Madelyn and Kurt didn’t grow out of ignoring their son.

^

Thomas is staring at Logan, listening intently.

“Tell me, Logan,” his doctor says, “That sort of panicked feeling you had when it came to death before, do you ever have a similar feeling now?”

“No,” Logan says.

“Really? Not even when it comes to food?”

“I mean…,” Logan starts thinking. Thinking of the moments before he cuts his food, when he arranges his food on his plate, when he’s counting steps, calories, carbs…

“...yes.”

Thomas makes a note of that. “Logan, I have a question for you. Have you ever heard of obsessive compulsive disorder?”

“OCD? Yeah, though I’m not sure how accurately it’s been portrayed to me. It seems to involve a lot of cleaning.”

“Not quite,” Thomas says, “It’s when we have intrusive and upsetting thoughts-obsessions-that can cause us to perform rituals to try and keep them away-compulsions.”

Logan feels something in his stomach sink. “Why are you telling me this?”

Dr. Sanders smiles softly, “Why do you think I’m bringing it up?”

“I thought I had an eating disorder,” Logan says, ignoring the question.

“Oh, you do. One doesn’t cancel out the other. There is such a thing as comorbidity.”

Which makes sense to Logan. He’s read enough of his psychology book to knows it’s actually pretty rare to only have one mental illness. He had a feeling that a day like this would come, but he didn’t think it would be this.

“So...if I did have OCD...what would happen?”

“We would work on it,” Dr. Sanders says, shrugging, “I have an OCD workbook around here somewhere that you could work through, but it would also give us a new way to approach your eating disorder.”

“And you think that would be more beneficial?”

“I do. But we can discuss that at length next time. For now, we’ve run over time.”

Logan looks at the clock on the wall behind him. They’re fifteen minutes past when he was supposed to be out of here. His dad would probably be worried.

No, says a voice that’s a little too honest, Dad probably won’t care.

^

Dinner that night is tense.

More accurately, Logan is tense and it’s starting to infect his parents. They’re having hamburgers and fries which made Logan even angrier than he was because if they spoke to him for even a second they would know how much he hated french fries and how triggering they were. Yet they had the nerve to make passive aggressive glances at his plate and at each other as he was cutting the fries into bite sized pieces.

“How was school, Logan?”

And Logan knows he should bite his tongue. Should play nice like he always has, but after the session he just had with Dr. Sanders, he can’t put forth the effort.

“Fine.” Maybe if he just doesn’t talk everything will be fine.

His parents glance at each other which just makes his blood boil more.

“Are you sure, honey? You seem stressed,” his mom says.

And just like that, he deflates. Maybe he’s being unfair to them. Like he told Dr. Sanders, he never tried to educate them. Maybe it was time he tried.

“School was fine, I just had a stressful session,” he says, honestly.

His mom purses her lips, trying and failing to keep her face neutral. “Oh?”

“Yeah, we…,” Logan’s throat goes dry. He doesn’t know why talking about this makes him so nervous, but it does.

“Are you going to be done with that soon?” his dad asks, cutting him off.

“Done…? With therapy?”

“Yes, with therapy.”

“We haven’t discussed that at all. In fact we just made a breakthrough today, we’re going to start working on something new-”

“Breakthroughs should mean ‘almost done.”

“But I’m still struggling!” Logan snaps, “So that means continue.”

“Honey, I don’t think you’re struggling as much as you think you are. I mean, everyone has struggles, I think yours are normal.”

“They’re not!” Logan is getting emotional and he knows that’s only going to hinder his argument, but he’s getting desperate. “How can you guys not see it?”

“See what?” his dad asks.

“The counting, the compulsions, the-the,” Logan never stumbles over his words, but his emotions are overtaking him right now, “The OCD, the anorexia.”

His dad leans back in his chair. “Anorexia? Like when you don’t eat?”

“Yes, dad, when you don’t eat.”

His dad stares at him. There’s no recognition, no realization, no sadness. Just confusion.

“Boys don’t get eating disorders.”

And maybe Logan should have expected this or seen it coming, it’s not exactly an uncommon belief, but he’s always seen his dad as an intelligent man. Clearly, he would listen to reason.

“Mental illnesses don’t discriminate, they’re chemical imbalances in the brain-”

“Chemical imbalance? I thought you were talking about anorexia-”

“I am.”

“That’s a behavior. A behavior is choice, Logan,” his dad says, slowly, as if Logan is the confused one in this instance.

“Dad, that...isn’t the way it works.”

“Of course it is!” his dad says, “That’s the way it’s always worked, that’s the way it’s always been! Maybe these doctors you’ve been seeing are just hacks in disguise.”

“They’re not hacks what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about some new age doctors who think they know everything, when in reality they’re just taking my money!”

“They’re not-”

“You know what? I’m tired of waiting for this to be over. It’s over now.”

Logan suddenly feels like he’s been plunged into the arctic. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re not going back to therapy.”

“Dad,” Logan stutters, which is unusual for him, “Dad, you-you can’t mean that, I need it, please-”

His dad doesn’t say anything, just stands up and goes to his room.

“Mom,” Logan says, turning to her, “You can’t let him do this, please, I need therapy, I need group, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

His mom is staring at her plate. She finally shakes herself and looks at her son.

“I can’t control what your dad does.”

“You can take me to group,” Logan says, desperate, “please.”

She sighs, “We’ll discuss it.”

[cnc-hoebayb]

We could start off every day with sex n super smash bros

*Smut warning!!

Erick sinnn omg guys im so nervous

Also this isn’t gonna be superrrr explicit like my others just bc this is new territory and a lil different still...

But here it goes, lmk your feedback pls 🙃

.

“Ew don’t touch meee” Erick whines as you roll over, playfully nudging him with your toes. His eyes are scrunched shut tightly, trying desperately to ignore you. “Pero es la mañanaaaaa,” you fight with him as he pulls the sheets over him and drowns you out with a pillow over his ears.

You can’t seem to find a hole in his little barrier, so you give up with a huff, slumping back onto your pillow. It was your one day off. A day for you to sleep in and relax, but of course you would end up fully energized at 7 am. Erick was no help either, that kid would be asleep for another 3 hours max and there was no way to stop him.

The phone on your bedside table buzzed and maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to just browse social media for a couple hours. Or so you thought...

You click the little Instagram icon and it immediately shuts down. Click again, same thing. You go back and forth between apps, disappointed as each one loads with an error- no connection. “Dammit,” you whisper and notice the icon on the top left of your screen disappeared, WiFi shut down.

The laziness in you kicks up and overpowers the effort to fix it. You look over to Erick, still buried in blankets and sleeping soundly. So trying not to wake him, you remove yourself from the bed slowly, inching your way out as quietly as possible. Feet hit the cold tile beneath you and you bolt over to your closet. Moving a few old jackets and shoes, you find a big box and slide it out next to your tv.

You remove the contents quietly again, making sure to check on Erick every time a sudden noise was made. Tangled chords get plugged into multiple ports and outlets, your desperate attempt to find some entertainment for time being. Once it was all set up, you place the console on the tv stand excitedly, digging through the box one more time for exactly what you were looking for. You insert the game and hop back in bed carefully, controller in hand.

Once you got situated in a comfy spot on the bed, a good distance away from Erick to give him room, you clicked the switch for the tv. The room immediately filled with the blaring music from the theme opening. You scramble for the remote rapidly and smash the button until it was silent. It didn’t work, however, since Erick was already up and facing towards you.

His hair was messy, sleep still in his heavy eyes and with a little baby frown. “Que estas jugando??” He questioned and looked at the screen so obviously plastered with the logo. You shrivel up a little in place, trying to look unknowing but also cute enough to get away with it. “Super smash bros......”

You fail to hold back a playful smile and cover your face with the controller. “Without meee!?” He argues and pushes you away from him. You point at him with the controller in hand, “Erick- estabas durmiendo, déjame en paz im bored.” His pout becomes a little softer, but he sits still with his arms crossed.

Some time passes of him being silent, you watch and wonder what’s running through those sleepy thoughts of his. He lets out a defeated sigh, rubbing his eyes before holding his hand out to you. “A controller,” he starts and yawns in between, “dame.” You hand him the one you were holding and grab the other off the nightstand. He adjust his eyes to the screen and gives you a nod to start it. “Ready to lose?” He jokes, and you lean in.

“Can i have a good luck kiss at least...?” You rest your head on his shoulder and bat your lashes up at him. He perks up quickly, catching himself just as fast, trying to play it cool. “Yea ye, i guess i could share some of my super smash bros skills with you this way.” He turns his head to press a soft kiss on your lips. You take it in while it lasts and run your tongue across your lips right after. Erick goes on and turns his attention back to the tv, ready to play.

But you look up at him and that messy hair, that light cover of stubble layering his chin, his perfect pink lips- and maybe there’s another game you wanna play now.

“Erick,” you say and he responds with a quick “que”, choosing through a long list of characters and not looking back at you. You roll your eyes and say it again, but this time while tugging at his shirt “Eriiickk.” He sets the controller down and turns toward you “queeee??”

You hold him by his jaw and slam your mouth to his, his eyes going wide with surprise. He pulls back a little, not quite sure what to do. You take the controller from him and toss it off the bed, yours following shortly after. His confused look changes up as you assure him of what you want, locking your arms around his neck, laying back and pulling him down on top of you.

“Whoa whoa,” he lets out as he falls over you and begin kissing and nipping at his ear. The tv played on in the back, background game music that sounded ridiculous in this situation. You smile against his skin and he giggles. “Ahora que” he laughs, now starting to kiss all over your neck and face. “La música, it’s funny,” you reply and he stops to listen.

“Guess we just gotta drown it out,” he says and sucks a mark onto your collarbone. Now there’s the gross teenager in him. You fall into his embrace, letting him droop over you lazily as kisses become more sloppy. The heat in your body increases as he takes the initiative to grab your thigh and lift it for him to settle in between.

“Por que eres tan bella en la mañana?..” he mumbles against your ear and it makes your heart flutter a little. His lips slide against your skin in all the right places, knowing exactly where to hit you for these types of moments.

A good amount of time goes by before you’re both ready for the next level. With as great of a kisser he was, you could get caught up in those lips all day. There would be no problem with that on either side too, because Erick definetly felt the same way. But what was happening now was sudden and pure need- a desire that wanted to be addressed immediately. And honestly, mornings like this was one of the times where he was at his hottest to you. So this would be fun.

The now so obvious bulge in his sweatpants grinded between your legs, making you gasp with all the thoughts that started to build in your head. Knowing he never liked to initiate, you part from his lips and squeeze his biceps with intention. “Erick,” you stop mid sentence and he bites his swollen lips while looking right into your eyes. “Grab a condom, I’m ready.” And with the speed of light, he rolls off of you to dig through the bedside drawer, pouncing back over you as he shows off the tiny little package.

You giggle at the goofy excited face he makes and he tears the corner of the wrapping with his teeth. He leans down to kiss you deeply one more time, letting you help pull his remaining clothing off before doing the same with yourself.

His nose rests against yours, pretty little lips hanging open as he slides the condom on, your own hands making their way down to assist. He exhales sharply and interlocks his fingers in yours. “Lista, bebe?” Its quiet and intimate, opposing slightly his normal character. I mean, he was always sweet, but it surprised you to see another side to his sweetness, however many times you’ve seen it before.

“Lista,” your hands massage the back of his neck, right where his hairline starts to fade. He’s slow, gentle, almost to the point where it’s too hard to wait for more. But he was careful with you, and that was always the most important thing.

He bottoms out fast, collapsing over you with a deep breath. “Don’t start losing on me now,” you joke and it helps relieve the tension of the moment, his confidence boosting up again. You guide him with a pace, something you can both handle and work out together, rolling your hips up into his.

His soft groans were actually more like whimpers, never afraid to overcompensate and be too dramatically vocal, he was as natural and amateur as any other boy your guys’ age. You clench onto his arms, arching up at his constant thrusts. The veins in his neck flex slightly and he’s never looked so focused in his life.

Your loud whines match the volume of the still playing video game and the squeaks of the bed frame. Sheets bundled at your feet as he pushes your bodies higher up on the bed, getting that perfect leverage to finish you out. “WhoA-“ you accidentally mutter, the sensation simply emitting your first thought out suddenly, and in a totallyyy not sexy manner.

He smiles wide and it’s almost like he wasn’t literally inside of you right now, because before you know it you’re both giggling at your little slip. Your eyes start to water as you try to keep it together and not break out into a full on laughing fit- Erick above you doing the same. “I couldn’t stop, it just came out,” you justify and cover your face with your hands, all previous movement now at a hold.

“You’re a nerd,” he teases and starts to poke at your hands while pinching and tickling around your face, trying to get you to reveal yourself again. You squeal when he blows a raspberry on your neck, making you wiggle and finally push him away. The both of your laughter fills the air and the mood is so much lighter than before.

You push his hair back and snap back to what was happening before your guys’ fit of laughter. His cheeks are flushed with color and you bring him into a kiss. “I ruined the mood didn’t i?” You smile nervously and he continues to pepper your face with kisses. “No, you made it better” his tongue sweeps along the roof of your mouth with skill and you moan in response.

The rest is frantic- hands pushing and pulling at open skin, hips pounding against one another, muffled noises as teeth bite into soft flesh in pleasure. He mutters a string of broken English, bucking into you roughly. His body spasms and you chase your release shortly after, burying your face into his warm neck.

Your fingers clench into his skin as you come undone, feeling lost in his touch and body. You both start to slow down until he finally rolls from on top of you, plopping onto his pillow. He lays there and it looks like he’s trying to reload back into normal Erick mode.

“You’re weird,” you cuddle up to him to lay your head on his sweaty chest. And like all he needed was the sound of your voice, he turns his head to you and shows off those perfect teeth. “Youre weirder,” he wraps you in his arms and starts to play with your now very tangled hair, “siempre me quieres así en la mañana.”

“You’re not complaining” you snap back and he agrees silently with a single look, fingers still locked in your silky strands. You squeeze him tightly to remind yourself how amazing he is and how lucky you are to have him to yourself. He groans as you squeeze tighter, almost pushing you away. “Oowww,” he squeezes you back to play along.

You release him and kiss his cheek one more time. “Okay can we go back to playing the game now?” Youre already reaching for your controller on the floor, pressing buttons to get it started. “Desnuda???” He almost screams, already halfway through putting his own underwear back on.

“Yea, it’ll distract you more,” you wink at him and press play. “My chance of winning is waaayy better now,”

[anastasiaskarsgard]

X marks the spot !!!!

Part 8- Brooke POV

End of summer

Smut, cussing, drugs, drama, errors, mention of abuse, bullying, etc

I really did have to pee.

I made a beeline for the bathroom and locked the door behind me. Wtf did Lily want to talk about? Mark didn’t want her!

Suddenly I remembered Marks’ seemingly innocent question (at the time) about fighting a girl for him.

Jesus.

Having a hot ass boyfriend had its downsides. I checked myself over in the mirror, and tied my hair back in a bun, just in case it popped off with this Lily girl. Might as well apply some mascara and lipstick too. I only was wearing a bathing suit, but not much I could do about that now.

I walked out of the bathroom to find Bex and Lily having a heated, yet quiet discussion. Lily had a phone out, while Bex was trying to make her put it away. Bex didn’t want me to see it. Lily did. I was a little curious, but before I could say anything Mark stormed in the room.

“What the fuck is this?” Mark yelled at nobody in particular.

All three of us froze and looked at Mark. With it being quiet now, I could hear the audio playing on the phone. It almost sounded like Mark’s voice.... Ok, now I was real fucking curious.

Lily and my eyes met, and I couldn’t help but notice just how utterly desperate and sad she looked. I felt a pang of pity for her. It must have been hard losing Mark. I wonder what happened between them.

Shit, what had Bex said?

Bex grabbed Lily’s hand and pulled her past Mark. If looks could kill, then Lily would have been struck dead by the nastiest glare, I’d ever seen Mark produce. He looked positively livid. This was that Mark I hadn’t recognized from earlier. I hope I never was on the receiving end of one of these looks...

“I’ll take Lily downstairs, and you guys probably wanna talk. Don’t fuck in my bed or break anything.” Bex said with a warning tone and closed the door.

Mark looked pissed. He wasn’t moving, but his gaze followed me as I walked to the bathroom. I wasn’t sure what to say.

On the one hand, he’d resisted his ex for me. But on the other hand, what was that video, and why was she trying to show me? Would I be betraying my fellow females if I just let it go? Why did Bex want to keep it from me?

I didn’t know what to do, so I got my make up out and started to touch it up. Any girl will tell you, a lot of decisions are made, touching up their make up.

“Baby? Why were you hanging out with her?” Mark walked in the bathroom and held me around my waist and rested his head on my shoulder, carefully watching my reaction to his question.

“She followed me up, and I just literally came out of the bathroom when you showed up. She wanted to show me something on her phone, but Bex wouldn’t allow it. No big deal.” I shrugged.

His face fell, and he looked like he was about to cry. The desperation in his eyes and utter panic broke my heart. Whatever was in that video was, it had him freaked out.

“Did you guys make a porno or something?” I teased flicking my eyes up to his, to gauge his reaction now.

“Brooke, I am so sorry, I was young, and it seemed cool at the time but ...

My stomach flipped, and I DID NOT want to hear this, so I turned around and kissed him to shut him up. “I love you,” I said without pulling our lips apart.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” Mark kept saying over and over as he kissed me all over my face. I giggled, and he looked me straight in the eyes and it took my breath away. He is so beautiful. “You’re mine. I never want to lose you. I only want you ever.” He looked so sincere.

He picked me up and sat me on the bathroom vanity untying my swim bottoms and moving my bathing suit top triangles over, so my breasts were completely exposed. He was so gentle and careful, licking each nipple while looking up at me.

He stood up and gently held my face in both hands and kissed me passionately, letting out a sexy little groan before stepping back and looking at me. “I love you so much. It makes me almost crazy. I never felt this way for anyone. I almost had a fucking meltdown when I saw you with her. Promise me you won’t be friends with her or any of her fucking friends. Promise.”

“Mark.... you're ridiculous.” I giggled trying to pull him back in, but he wouldn’t budge.

He glared at me and in a low almost threatening tone he said through gritted teeth, “promise. Me. Now.”

“Ooooh or what?” I teased with a big shitty smile on my face.

Before I could even react, he grabbed me by my arm and dragged me over to the bed, roughly slinging me down, as he got on top of me. No smily or playful Mark. I wasn’t scared, because I believed in my heart he’d never hurt me, but I was alarmed with this behavior.

“Bex said not to fuck on her bed,” I said in an effort to lighten the mood, and maybe change the subject.

“You think that’s what I wanna do? Fuck you? Why? Cuz you’re a fucking whore? You’re like your new fucking whore besties?” He seethed.

“Mark, why are you acting this way? When did I become a whore?” I’d never been so confused in my life. Where on earth was this coming from all of a sudden?

“I don’t know! That’s a good fucking question!!! I thought you were my sweet, perfect, baby girl, ride or die!!! I thought that you wanted to make me happy, and never would lie to me, or cheat on me, but now I bring you to one fucking party, and you are getting buddy-buddy with my fucking ex! WHY DONT YOU MAKE A FUCKING VIDEO GRINDING ON THOSE BITCHES? WHILE MAKING OUT IN BATHING SUITS? YOU MIGHT GET A FEW HUNDRED LIKES! Hashtag FUCKING SLUTS!” Mark screamed in my face at the end there.

I couldn’t help it, I was trying to hold back tears and catch my breath, but the more he went on, it just got worse, and I burst out crying.

Mark immediately went from menacing glare, to concerned puppy dog eyes. “Oh, my god baby! Baby! Look at me, don’t cry. I love you. I’m sorry. I’m drunk.”

I couldn’t look at him. I don’t know why I was straight up hysterically crying, choking and heaving, but I was, and I wasn’t going to look at him.

He got off of me and paced back and forth, grabbing his head. After a few minutes. I looked over at him, and he was coming towards me with tissues.

He took some out, and picked me up like a baby and sat on the bed, cradling me in his arms. This was my Mark. He looked so loving and caring and He was so pretty.

I bet I looked terrible and crazy. I couldn’t remember why I even got so upset. I hated fighting with him. I couldn’t think straight.

All I knew is, I needed Mark to want me still. Looking back, this probably was a huge red flag, and I should of got my shit and left. But I was an idiot over him. “Mark?” My voice was all raspy from my crying fit.

He looked in my eyes, and I could feel the panic returning as a lump rose in my throat... “What is it, beautiful girl?”

I started to shake with sobs again, but he brought our faces together, and he kissed me hungrily, boogers, tears and all.

He stood up still kissing me and carried me back in the bathroom, setting me back on the counter.

“I’m so sorry, Brooke, I’m so sorry.” He peppered kisses all over my face.

He stepped back and looked me over as I tried to hide my face. He took my chin and moved my face up, looking in my eyes adoringly. “you are the most beautiful fucking bitch on the motherfucking planet, and you’re all mine. I’m sorry I acted like a dick. You gotta listen, I love you so much, I go crazy.”

He began kissing me again, moving down my chest. He started to suck on one breast while he toyed with the other with his hand. Biting and licking my nipple, and then blowing on it, so it was at attention. Then he switched Breasts and took that hand and put it into my core. I was so turned on his fingers slipped in easily. He let out his sexy Mark growl, and I reached for his cock. I was shocked how I could go from hysterical basket-case, to bitch in heat in no time flat, But I wanted him so bad.

“Ah, ah. Not yet. I want to taste my perfect little pussy first.”

He spread my legs and got on his knees and went to work, all while his gorgeous green eyes peered up at me. He added his hand to the equation and I was now on the brink.

“ you going to come for me baby?”

I nodded quickly grabbing his hair and pushing his face back into my pussy. I was so close, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I grabbed him by his hairagain, and pulled him up, crushing his mouth with a kiss as he freed himself, and shoved himself deep inside me.

“Oh my god baby. I love this pussy, is it my pussy?” He whimpered in my ear as he slammed into me. So desperate and eager. I’d never felt so wanted in my life as I did right then.

He pulled his face back, so he could fully see me, while still thrusting at a feverish pace. He grabbed my face gently and looked deep in my eyes. Searching my eyes, for something, he suddenly grabbed my bun, forcing my head back, so I was looking straight up.

Biting my collarbone, his thrusts were becoming very erratic, and I knew he was close. I knew just what to say, to push him over the edge;

“I’m yours.”

“I want to put a baby in you,” Mark said.

“Wait. What?” I asked, eyes big as dinner plates, snapping my head back down to meet his eyes.

“I want you to have my baby.”

I couldn’t believe what he was saying, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say it was so hot. He didn’t mean it, and was just caught up in the moment, so I just played along.

“You wanna be a Daddy for real? Put a baby inside me, so we are yours forever? Then Cum inside me, Mark.” I said breathlessly.

His mouth fell open, and he bit my swollen lower lip. I grabbed the back of his head and sloppily made out with him as He convulsed and stuttered his load deep inside me. He let out a loud “fuck” and twitched to a stop, letting out a big exhale.

He pressed his forehead to mine, smiling. “Let’s just stay like this forever.” He whispered.

“Bex might get mad.”

“Nah, she’s cool, and we’re sexy. Who wouldn’t want to see us every time they go to the bathroom?”

I giggled and pushed him back, sliding him out of me, and hopped off the counter. He walked over to the shower and turned it on. I felt his cum dripping down my leg, so I hopped in and rinsed off. I turned around to find him staring intensely at me.

“I meant everything I said.” He said kissing my forehead.

I didn’t think he’d bring it up, so I didn’t know what to say. Not really able to process what he was saying in my intoxicated state, I went with my auto-response of “oh baby.”

He looked down at me Green eyes flashing, and his swollen lips parted just a little bit. His hair was falling into his face, and he seemed so vulnerable and pure.

He needed me to protect him. Fuck Lily. My beautiful baby was different, and no one was going to make me love him less.

Oh boy, I really do love him.

“Why do you want a kid so bad?”I asked curiously.

“I don’t want a kid as much as I just want to own you. Let everyone know I fucked you, and I’m the only one that gets to, and here’s my proof.”

“That’s got to be the least romantic answer, I’ve ever heard.”

“Plus imagine how fucking cute they’d be. Get off the birth control and let’s try.”

“Mark! You’re tripping. We are too young and I’m not going anywhere.” I wrapped my arms around him and snuggled into his chest.

After getting no response, I looked up into Marks eyes and was perplexed by his expression. He had the most expressive eyes but sometimes they were impossible to read. This was one of those times. “Look how beautiful my boyfriend is.” I said with a big cheesy smile.

He cracked a half hearted smile. “I love you so much Brooke. I don’t know how to handle it. I’m obsessed with you.” He rubbed his nose against mine.

Time to lay it on thick. I was taking advantage of this moment! This was the type of stuff you read about, or saw in movies, but right here, right now, I was living it. “Mark I love you. You couldn’t get rid of me, if you tried.”

He smiled warmly down at me. “I love you more princess.” He embraced me rocking back and forth for a few moments and I just looked in the mirror at us, and then at my face. Boy did I look rough. I needed like a whole new face of make up, and all I had was mascara and lip gloss. Maybe Bex would let me—

“Baby, What are you thinking about?” He interrupted my thoughts.

Shit. Better not say eyeshadow.

. “Just how lucky I am to have a boyfriend that’s as madly in love with me as I am him.” Okay, so maybe that was bullshit, but it was true. Before Mark, I didn’t believe I could feel so strongly for someone, and they would feel the same.

He released me and turned off the water before handing me a towel and getting out. He dried off quickly and got dressed while I was still drying my hair. He grabbed my bathing suit bottoms and tied them back on me, double knotting each side. He grabbed a brush and started to brush my hair.

“I feel like one of those monkeys on the Discovery Channel. How are you at eyeliner?”

“I love making MY baby the prettiest girl in all of America... maybe even the world.” He did a cheesy Dr. Evil laugh, and then we both just started laughing like idiots. The more I tried to stop, the worse the laughing fit became.

Finally able to breathe again, he took my hand and lead me downstairs. If I hadn’t been so crazy in love, I might have noticed the infuriated glare from the petite blonde on the couch. Or maybe I’d have caught Bex’s worried face, as she looked between Bex and us. But I didn’t catch any of that.

All I could see, was Mark.

[kitlcuis]

𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕝

𝓌𝒽𝑜: kit louis & @juliivn 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒: apart 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃: sunday, 10 march 2019; 12:00 pm

The past week has been a fever dream of incomprehensible, fleeting images broken up by short bouts of vivid and terrifying clarity. During the latter the only thing Julian is aware of is the way his body shivers like he’s come down with hypothermia, the way his muscles scream in ceaseless agony, the cold walls and colder bed of his jail cell. Sometimes Kit seems to be there with him, most often smiling and asking to cuddle. Other times he’s crying, asking Julian why he’d decided to ruin both their lives. On a few occasions he’s woken from a fitful unconsciousness with his throat raw like he’d been screaming. He thinks often, when he’s lucid, about how he needs to call Kit. But it isn’t until he’s spent a week in his cell that he finally does it. He’s not allowed any semblance of privacy when he’s taken to the pay phones to make his call, but at least the guards give him space. At the first sound of Kit’s voice picking up on the other end, Julian’s chest goes tight and his throat swells. “Kit,” he says softly, like a plea. Forgive me. “It’s me. I got arrested last week.” A long pause. “They’ve been detoxing me. I’m so sorry I didn’t call.”

Caller ID states the Maryland Penitentiary and Kit's heart drops to the bottom of his stomach. Avoiding police involvement had been marginally successful. For as much as he wanted to file a missing persons case, he wasn't about to out himself and Julian for their occupation. It'd likely lead to a warrant rather than a helpful search team. His first thought is to which of his friends had snitched, taking Kit's sadness as their own personal invitation to seek out authoritative help. His second thought, however, is that he needs to answer now or else the call will forward. It's with a breathy and unsure voice that Kit accepts the call and queries a soft "hello?" before he's gifted with the one sound he's been wanting to hear since Julian's gone missing. "Baby," Kit croaks in a voice that's immediately thick with emotion, bordering on tears. He clutches to the phone so tightly his knuckles are colorless with tension and his knees go weak so that he's gracefully sinking into a sad little puddle on the floor of their apartment. "Are you okay? Can I come get you? Have you eaten? When can I see you?"

It hurts too much to think of Kit alone in their apartment and faring for himself, so Julian tries not to. He’s done enough of that the past week, anyway. He’s just glad to hear Kit’s voice, to know regardless of anything else, he’s alive and safe. For as many bad feelings as there have been between himself and Jax, Julian feels more than adequately confident Kit’s been able to rely on him for food and warmth and comfort. It’s exactly as painful as it is relieving. Still, the scared, mournful sound of his voice breaks Julian’s heart. “I’m okay,” he assures him, tipping his head against the prison’s concrete wall and closing his eyes. “Just tired. I haven’t gotten much real sleep.” Behind him, on another payphone, he can hear a man speaking in a low, gruff tone presumably to his lawyer. Julian huddles closer to his own, as if that will bring him closer to Kit and farther away from here. “Listen, I don’t have very long on here. I need you to do something for me.” This isn’t what he wants to be talking about. He wants to ask Kit a million questions, to satisfy his own need to know his fiancé is okay, but he quells it. “You need to call Danny, Kit, and ask him for the number for the lawyer he used when he got busted last year. Get an appointment as soon as you can. Then you need to call Aaron. You need to tell him what happened, and you need to...you need to ask him to wire you money for the lawyer.” He pauses. Clenches his jaw around a swell of shame and guilt. “You can come see me with him. He’ll be able to make sure I can see you in a room instead of through glass.” He goes quiet again, and then adds softly, “Can you do that for me, baby?”

Kit doesn't want to talk about Danny. He doesn't want to talk about Aaron or any calls he has to make. He especially doesn't want to wait to make said calls before he goes and sees his Julian. It's been over a week. He's not doing well without him. His lower lip quivers dangerously and he knows that Julian will be able to hear the fresh heartbreak in his voice. "Don't hang up," he pleads instead of acknowledging all of Julian's (admittedly reasonable and necessary) requests. "Please don't go." If he's at all upset that Julian doesn't seem to want to ask any questions born of concern in return, it's drowned out by the sudden panic that he doesn't know when he'll be able to call again, when they'll be able to talk. He needs to go down there. Now. "I can do that stuff," he adds as an afterthought, barely even registering to what he's agreeing. "Just don't leave me now."

The wavering tone of Kit’s voice and the sound of mingled panic and devastation he hears within it makes Julian feel sick to his stomach. He shakes his head as if the movement can dislodge the nausea, fighting back tears of his own not just because to give into them would mean to give into a whole slew of emotions he can’t face right now, but because to let the other inmates see him crying would mean getting the shit kicked out of him. Again. And anyway, he doesn’t want Kit to hear that. It’ll only make it worse. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, clutching the phone tightly against his ear. “I’m sorry, Kitten, I have to. I only get a couple minutes. I’m gonna see you soon, please don’t cry.” Two minutes, they’d told him. And it’s no matter of arguing for longer—the call will disconnect on its own. “The sooner you make those calls the sooner you can visit. I’m not leaving you. Never leaving you.” He pulls the phone away a second, takes a deep breath, and brings it back. “I’m almost out of time. Just one more thing, Kit.” His eyes close again. He tries to imagine the smell left on his clothes when Kit wears them. “There’s a couple hundred bucks stuffed in a pair of my socks. Find it, use it for whatever you need. Please take care of yourself until I’m home. Promise me.”

"No," Kit pouts as though the forcefulness of his sorrow can singlehandedly change Julian's mind.  A couple minutes hasn't been enough. In fact, in some ways he thinks it's made things worse because now that he knows where Julian is, he has to imagine him there, alone, in a too-small jail cell without a too-small fiancé to cuddle. It's also hard in that he isn't sure how to get to where Julian is staying. How unfair to have his lover's location but to be unable to just go to him, to fling himself into his arms where he belongs. "I can't do it," he whimpers with a trembling sob that slips out despite his best efforts to keep things together. "I really can't do this. Not alone. Please?" It's not like the word will have any more impact now than when he'd said it last but his voice breaks on it this time around. He expects 'one more thing' to be 'I love you' and he poises to say it back; the money is a surprise. A couple hundred is definitely a surprise. Kit kind of hates that his first thought isn't rent nor food nor bills. Kit craves something the basic necessities won't cover and that kind of cash could very well do the trick. "You need to come home now," Kit warns brokenly, unable to keep from sniffling now that tears have slipped free.  He can't care for himself, after all; turns out Jax was right. "I miss you."

Logically, he knows that Kit can do what he's asking, regardless of any claims otherwise--he also knows, however, that it's going to take a hell of a toll on him emotionally. The guilt tries to swallow Julian whole and again he pushes it back down. Later, when he’s hunched over in the corner of his cell, he’ll let it consume him for a while. He can deal with it then. Now, the most important thing is making sure Kit knows what he’s supposed to do so they can see each other in person. Hearing that Kit is okay isn’t enough; until Julian sees him, can physically hold him, that sick feeling of worry will remain. “I miss you, too,” he says softly, knowing even as he does that he’s being the worst kind of selfish. That’s nothing very new, though—when it comes to Kit, Julian has always been selfish. He can sometimes convince himself it’s best for his fiancé, having Julian around to take care of him, but standing here now with a prison payphone against his ear with a few large bruises littering his body and the sound of Kit quietly sobbing on the other end, it’s difficult not to stare reality in the face: were it not for him, Kit wouldn’t have been left alone for a week in a new city without a way to take care of himself. “Please, Kitten—I know it’s hard. I promise it won’t be much longer, you just have to do those things for me.” His knuckles tighten on the receiver and he does his best to drown out the noises around him, to savor these last few seconds of respite. “I love you. I’m so sor—” Before he can finish the word, he hears the line disconnect and with the sound comes a feeling of dread that washes over his entire body. Within moments a guard is already leading him away from the phone and back to his cell, and the only thing Julian has left is to hold onto the hope that Kit will do what he’s asked him to do. That this won’t be the thing that finally makes him realize he’d be better off alone.

The silence on the other end of the phone call is deafening and Kit can’t even wince at the cliche. He’s too busy trembling with an overflow of emotions he’s been suppressing since Julian’s disappearance, desperation topping them all and leading to him punching in the callback code knowing fully well his lover won’t be able to answer. He gets an error sound beeping jarringly in his ear but he tries again. Again and again, he dials with uncertain fingers, hoping that something changes -- he didn’t even get to say he loved Julian too. What if he doesn’t know? What if he doesn’t remember? How long has it been since he was in Julian’s arms -- a week? Two? Already, the clothes Kit’s been wearing are smelling less like his fiancé and more like himself. He hasn’t forgotten Julian’s love but in a place as barren and loveless as the inside of a jail cell, maybe memories of Kit were fading too? “No,” he creaks woefully as the call rolls over to a dial tone. Kit glares at it through the flood of tears painting tracks down porcelain skin before finally admitting defeat and hanging up altogether. He feels hollow; like someone went in and carved out all his insides -- everything that makes him feel bright and bubbly and warm. His hands shake as he lets the phone drop down to the mattress, feeling a cold settling in his bones that has nothing to do with the temperature of their apartment. He curls himself up small, fingers clasping tightly to wrists around tucked up knees, and mourns.

[writtenbyjenn]

Heart Strings Part 2

Pairing: Cisco Ramon x Reader (Gender neutral) Warnings: Mild Violence Squicks: None Genre: Romance/action Word Count: 1370 If there are any spelling or pronoun errors, please tell me!

Part One

After joining forces with team Flash, Y/N and Cisco have to deal with the meta who stole their heart before they can be together in peace.

Part two requested by @a-spot-of-who-lock and @melyana99

It was quiet in S.T.A.R. Labs. Cisco held Y/N’s hand tightly, concerned over how his teammates would react to this new development.

“Well… We must run some tests so we can be sure Y/N is telling the truth,” Caitlin, the voice of reason, was always eager to have more friends for the team. However, to the other people of the lab, the story seemed unlikely.

“Of course. It’s only fair, after all I have done. I’ve tried to help, I promise-” Y/N began.

“You can stop,” Barry held up his hand to stop them, “We believe you. Your pulse is gone, after all,” His soft smile comforted both Cisco and Y/N. “...But still. We need to be positive you are on our side now. Yeah, the pulse is comforting though. Creepy, to.”

Caitlin shrugged, “Yeah, you can’t really trick a good, old fashioned stethoscope!” The group was quick to push aside the thought of Y/N’s crimes. Before Y/N could bring up their thankfulness about moving past it so quickly, Cisco spoke.

“Okay! Let’s get planning!”

It wasn’t long before there were scattered pieces of paper and tech all over the table. The plan was simple- Barry and Cisco would distract the lightning wielder and his lackeys while Y/N and Caitlin would go retrieve their heart in its current location, Moscow. Cisco wanted to be with Y/N: his protective instincts didn’t want them to go so far without him in tow. But, the plan was set and there was no fighting it. Cisco desperately hoped that they would be alright.

“We can do this, Cisco. No need to worry,” Caitlin patted his shoulder softly, heading to the car that would take them to the nearest airport.

Y/N stood in front of Cisco. Their hands were linked, but there was nothing but silence for a long moment.

“Come back to me safely,” Cisco whispered. There was nothing else he could say or anything that could describe the crushing worry and pressure he felt. If he and Barry failed to distract the enemies for long enough, Y/N and Caitlin would both be in trouble. Y/N couldn’t speak either: they were scared their voice would crack and tears would spill. Y/N leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Cisco’s cheek before turning away. Cisco’s arm trailed after them, hanging in the air after they were gone.

And so, his job began.

He and Barry walked out into the empty street. He had some tech in hand, eyes darting left and right. Nothing would get past him and Barry. He would not allow it, there would be no way unless he was dead. There was a noise, and his head darted forward, hand gripping the trigger of his newest creation, ready for what was to come.

-

The plane landed smoothly, no sign of an issue to Y/N or Caitlin. It was a quiet ride to the home; the home of the one who held the key to the safety deposit box which they needed to get into.

The fight only lasted a few moments, the element of surprise allowing them to quickly take over the criminal and tie him up. The key was soon found, and the pair were out the door, not worrying about the criminal calling for help. The bank was close- the pair would be gone before another criminal could get to them.

The ride to the bank was uneventful, though the air was permeated with anxiety and dread. Upon entering, nothing surprising happened, and it did not take long for Caitlin and Y/N to get to the safety deposit boxes. Y/N felt as if their heart was pounding, which was impossible as they didn’t have one. The closer they got, the stronger the feeling got.

Y/N held the box close to their chest as the pair walked out. They could practically feel the beat through the box. Once they were back in the car, Y/N opened the box and carefully lifted the organ, removing their own shirt and preparing themselves for what was to come. Caitlyn looked over nervously, scalpel in hand.

-

The fight on the street had ended, but the battle was yet to be over.

The car pulled up to S.T.A.R. Labs. Before it had even stopped, Cisco was outside and waiting to see Y/N. The door opened, and Caitlin came out. There was a moment of panic as she looked behind her, concern on her face. However, his fears were calmed as Y/N stepped out, wobbly and tired looking. There was blood on their shirt from putting their heart back, but everything ended well. The magic that held their heart far away also made it easy to replace it safely.

He hugged them tightly, cradling their weak form to his chest. They let out a breathy laugh.

“Man, I never realized how weird a heartbeat felt, or how much I missed it,” Cisco laughed as well, and Caitlin had a smile on her face.

“I hate to ruin the moment, but we have a problem,” Barry had just rushed out of the building, a trail of papers flying behind him.

The group was back on the street once again, preparing for battle. Luckily, thanks to Barry and Cisco’s effort, the group in front of them was much smaller than before. With Y/N, the group would surely win, the odds in their favor. The battle began, and the tides were in favor of the heroes as expected, but there was a commotion as Y/N’s hood was thrown back by a combination of the wind and their rapid movement.

Time seemed to freeze as the lightning wielder and leader of the opposing group stared down their old ally.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Y/N was nervous, but they didn’t hesitate when they responded.

“I’m fighting for what is right,” Cisco looked over to his partner, proud of what they were doing. He jogged over and clasped his hand over their own.

“You have NO IDEA what you’re doing, Y/N. I OWN YOU. Your heart is locked up safely away, and when I say the word, IT WILL BE CRUSHED,” He yelled, clearly angered by the situation he had been placed in. He was losing, and his old partner was the cause of it. Y/N was calm when they answered as he pulled out a phone, angered when he got no response from his ally in Moscow.

“No, Stormy,” The silly nickname made him twitch, “You hold no power over me anymore,” Y/N turned towards Cisco, “My heart is safe and sound, in my own body where it belongs, in fact. The only one my heart belongs to now is Cisco,” to prove their point, Y/N hugged Cisco tightly. The smile on their faces only solidified his anger. The sky crackled and clouds swirled, but nothing happened. He knew he was beaten at his own game, and there was nothing he could do to reclaim the situation. He tried to run, but Barry ran faster.

In just a few moments, Barry had him tied up and taken away.

Back at S.T.A.R. Labs, a party was being held. Pizza was bought, Netflix was playing, and everyone was laughing.

Y/N was nervous still, knowing their past would haunt them for ages. Cisco noticed the subtle change in Y/N and squeezed their hand.

“We’re in this together, all right? They can’t hurt you anymore.” Y/N sighed and leaned their head on his shoulder.

“Yeah. We’re in this together,” They smiled: they truly believed it, the first time they had been able to trust someone so wholly and know they would not get hurt in the end. But still, the thoughts lingered. How could Cisco love them with all the destruction they had caused?

Y/N decided that their fears were not important now- they pushed them to the corner of their mind. All that mattered now was the person next to them, and the pizza on the table they had been craving for ages.

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