#went home sick today and drew instead of napping

[dionte-goethe]

I drew two fanarts for inktober 2023 prompt 3: path. The first of which is this! I love Tales of Symphonia. I thought about adding the whole crew to the end of the path, but... I was already pushing the shadows with Mithos mourning Martel.

[lesdemonium]

romtober day 31: love confession with an audience

Rating: T Ship: Geraskier Word Count: 2282 Summary: A tale of two hand-fasting ceremonies. One for Jaskier and Geralt, and one for everyone else.

AN: i just want to thank everyone who has read any of these fics! thank you for reading, thank you for your kudos, your comments, your reblogs, your everything. this was honestly exhausting and i don't think i'll ever do it again, but i don't think i've ever been so satisfied to finish a challenge before (maybe because i don't often finish challenges.... y'all are improving my work ethic by leaps and bounds let me TELL YOU).

this is technically a continuation of the bet but it also is easily a stand alone piece. reading the bet really just gives you maybe slightly more context for how dumb they are.

i'm gonna go take a quick nap before i start working on nano & gift exchange fics lmao.

read on ao3

Normally, Jaskier loved a party. He would take any excuse to dress up in all his finery, maybe play for his audience, and revel in the attention others bestowed upon him. And a party entirely about him? All the better. Jaskier was not ashamed to admit that he loved when others lavished attention on him, and he did not consider it a failing on his part. Who didn’t want to be noticed? Jaskier loved to be loved.

Geralt, however, did not. He was uncomfortable and prickly and often looked as if he wanted to be struck down by some force of nature right then and there. He could get by at a party if allowed to fade into the background and enjoy the food and wine, but being the center of attention was abhorrent to him. Jaskier didn’t blame him. So often, for Geralt, being the center of attention meant flattering idiot lords or treated as if he was an animal there for amusement. No, Geralt did not like parties.

A wedding for them, therefore, was not what either one of them particularly wanted. Geralt because he would be subject to scrutiny, and Jaskier because he wanted their wedding to be a happy memory for Geralt. Unfortunately, decorum demanded to be upheld.

 They were traveling. Jaskier wasn’t sure where they were, but it didn’t much matter. On the Path, forward seemed to be the only direction. They had just dispatched some monsters in some middle of nowhere town, and now they were about a two day’s ride from anywhere of note.

Jaskier could see the way Geralt’s shoulders relaxed. For a moment, Jaskier longed to touch him, then remembered with a start that he could, that he had permission now. He wrapped his arms under Geralt’s, pulling him into a hug, and pressed his face into Geralt’s shoulder blade. Geralt turned to press a kiss to the top of Jaskier’s head. They stood there for a moment in their embrace, before Geralt disentangled himself to instead clasp Jaskier’s hand.

They continued on, nothing but them and Roach and the road for miles. The weather was beautiful, sunny and warm, and they were surrounded by wildflowers.

It did not take long, upon returning to Lettenhove, for Jaskier’s family to turn horrible. At first, they were restrained, and bestowed compliments upon the couple. Jaskier could see the fire burning behind their eyes. Their son? Marrying a Witcher? It was unheard of, unspeakable, surely it could not be so! And yet, here they were, and Jaskier showed no signs of letting up on what they were certain was a sick joke.

Jaskier stayed on guard at their polite, if terse, comments and questions about their travels. He was powerless to stop it once they really started in, though. He had prepared Geralt for this, but it still hurt to watch.

“But surely you won’t continue on your travels now that you’re married!”

“What sort of life is that for a Viscount? Really, Julian, we must ask you to reconsider. Stay in Lettenhove! We have a nice little estate you could take over…”

“You’ve killed people, haven’t you? That’s how you got the title of Butcher.”

“Don’t you find the bard thing a tad… overplayed? Really, that’s all well and good for young men with no other prospects. Haven’t you outgrown all that yet?”

“I mean no offense, Geralt, you seem lovely. But Julian, really. There are plenty of fine lords and ladies who would line up to be your partner! And far more agreeable!”

Jaskier cut off what he could, all the while holding Geralt’s hand and giving him tight-lipped smiles of what he hoped were reassurances. By the end, he was exhausted, and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Geralt insisted he was fine. Jaskier spent the next morning recounting all the ways and reasons he loved Geralt, and loved their life together, anyway. Slowly, the tightness around Geralt’s eyes loosened.

They avoided Jaskier’s family as best they could.

 They stopped for lunch. Jaskier insisted they take their lunch to the wildflowers, and Geralt relented with an eyeroll and a fond smile. They ate in companionable silence as Jaskier leaned against Geralt. Overcome in the peacefulness of the moment, Geralt laid back in the flowers once he had finished eating. He dragged Jaskier down with him and Jaskier settled against his chest.

Geralt played with Jaskier’s hair and Jaskier fiddled aimlessly with Geralt’s shirt. They watched the clouds and Jaskier called out the shapes and figures he saw, while Geralt snorted unless he was particularly inspired to disagree with Jaskier.

“I love you,” Jaskier said, turning in Geralt’s arms to meet his eyes. He rested his forearms on Geralt’s chest, planted himself there, almost as if he expected Geralt to argue with him. It wasn’t the first time he had said the words aloud, but it felt different this time, somehow. “I love you more than I love being alive.”

Geralt snorted. “That’s not particularly romantic. I’ve already told you not to say you would die for me. This isn’t a far cry from that.”

Jaskier shook his head. He didn’t want a lecture about how reckless he was, not now (not ever, really). Instead, he wanted Geralt to see how serious he was. How mind-numbingly happy Geralt made him.

“I would live for you,” Jaskier said instead. “Sure, I would die for you, too. But I’d much rather live for you.”

Geralt was quiet for a long moment before he drew Jaskier in for a kiss. “Much better,” he said with a grin, and Jaskier laughed. “I would live for you, too.”

 Geralt looked out of place in his wedding attire. Jaskier thought he looked wonderful, covered in jewels and finery and bright blues. He did not, however, look much like he was comfortable. Geralt had little say in what he wore today, as Jaskier’s sisters had managed most of the preparations. They liked pretty, gaudy things, far more than even Jaskier did. As such, they had bedecked Geralt in an outfit that would have looked opulent on anyone else, but only looked suffocating on Geralt.

“I’d ask how eager you were to take that off, but as I’m sure your next step will be to burn your clothes rather than ravish me, I’d rather not know. Let me keep my narcissism,” Jaskier whispered to Geralt just before the ceremony.

For what it was worth, Geralt’s smile was genuine. The moment he turned to the hall they were about to have their handfasting ceremony in, however, his face grew tight. 

“I love you,” Jaskier reminded him, taking Geralt’s hand and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Curious. Jaskier had seen rings with the garment originally. Now not a single one graced the hand of his witcher.

“I love you,” Geralt repeated. 

He stroked his fingers along Jaskier’s cheekbone, stealing just another moment, before he offered his arm for Jaskier to take. It was time. There was plenty to be nervous about, but Jaskier wasn’t. This was simply a formality.

 “Marry me,” Jaskier said. He pressed a kiss to Geralt’s jaw to avoid his eye.

“Jaskier?” Geralt asked, taking Jaskier’s chin in his fingers and pulling him back up. It figured he wouldn’t let Jaskier hide. It was rude, though.

“Marry me,” Jaskier repeated, this time more firmly, and without wavering in his attention at all. A breath flew audibly out of Geralt’s nose. “I want you for all of my days, Geralt of Rivia, and then some. Marry me. Marry me. Marry me.”

Geralt’s fingers carded through Jaskier’s hair. Once, twice, three times, before Geralt pulled him back in for another kiss. Jaskier’s heart pounded away in his chest, so loudly he knew Geralt could hear it, too. He smoothed his hand over Geralt’s chest, and imagined that he could feel Geralt’s heart. He imagined it was beating faster, too.

“Yes,” Geralt answered against Jaskier’s lips.

 The ceremony was long and arduous. Somehow, it felt more like a business transaction, rather than the joining of two hearts. Jaskier went through the motions distantly, and would have felt guilty over it, if he didn’t know Geralt was doing the same thing.

Jaskier found he did not miss this. He did not miss being home, no matter how grand the rooms were, or how for the first time in ages he woke up without aches in his back. The food was delicious and hot every time, and he didn’t have to sing for enough coin to pay for it. For the first time in a long time, Jaskier was comfortable. He was not, however, happy. The Path called to him just as loudly as it called to Geralt, and he found himself comparing the grand estate his parents owned to the decrepit Kaer Morhen. Jaskier knew which one he considered home now, no matter how cold it was at night.

If he had never left, would he have been happy here? Would he have found romance in the words the officiant said? Would he have some pretty lady’s hand in his own, her head full of the same silly things that had always been in Jaskier’s?

Jaskier glanced at Geralt, and found him peeking back. They shared a small, secret smile, and Jaskier squeezed Geralt’s hand. Geralt squeezed back. No, he thought, decidedly. I would have been complacent. I never would have known there was more out there. He never would have found love, as he had with Geralt.

 “Geralt,” Jaskier said, stopping dead in his tracks. “Geralt, where are we?”

Geralt turned and eyed Jaskier curiously. He shrugged his shoulders. “About a two days ride from Carrera,” he answered.

Jaskier stared at him, then from the field of wildflowers around them. It had been two years since he had asked Geralt to marry him. Almost exactly two years. And here, they were, in the very same field as that day. The wildflowers were just as bright, just as beautiful, stretching as far as the eye could see. It was cloudier, today, and therefore a little darker. But still beautiful. Still perfect.

“Geralt, marry me,” Jaskier said.

 Geralt raised an eyebrow. “Jaskier, I already agreed to--”

“No, no,” Jaskier interrupted, waving dismissively at him. “Marry me now, Geralt. Here. Right now.”

It was a suggestion borne out of desperation. Jaskier had to send word to his family that he and Geralt were intending to marry, and they had insisted Geralt and Jaskier come to Lettenhove for the handfasting ceremony. It was going to be beautiful, resplendent, even. His entire family would be there, even the other witchers were invited. Jaskier had already implored them not to. It wasn’t a royal wedding, not by any means, but it was a noble wedding. It was going to be terrible.

But this. Right here, right now. This could be for them.

“Isn’t that what we’re going to Lettenhove for?” Geralt asked, confused. He crossed his arms.

Jaskier nodded. “We’ll hate it. It will be everything my family wants. It will be loud and long and proper and official. It won’t be about us at all.” He gestured broadly at the field. “But this. This could be our real story. This could be our real memory, to help us… survive Lettenhove and the duty there.” He stepped up to Geralt and took Geralt’s face in hand. “I would have you here, Geralt. As you are. As mine.”

Geralt searched his eyes for a moment, then nodded.

 Their hands were bound together. They proclaimed their love in front of a large, almost entirely captive audience. When the ceremony was completed, they were presented to the world together, and their audience applauded.

For the rest of the night, they fielded questions, comments both supportive and snide. They were prevailed upon to make speeches and dance and thank people they had never met before. Geralt insisted over and over, to everyone, that he loved Jaskier, and each time he sounded as if he meant it, and Jaskier squeezed his hand. Jaskier insisted the same back, and went on one tirade so long that word passed not to question Jaskier on the matter again.

 They found a ribbon in Roach’s saddlebag. They didn’t quite remember the words, the vows that were supposed to be made over their hands, but they made up their own. Tying their own hands wasn’t easy, but they did it together.

No one saw their ceremony aside from Roach. They interrupted each other, over and over, to laugh and kiss and declare their love. They set up their camp right there, and made love under the stars in the flowers. Jaskier didn’t think he had ever been this happy. He had a feeling he would be this happy for the rest of his life.

“I love you forever,” Jaskier whispered into Geralt’s hair, as Geralt rested his head on Jaskier’s shoulder.

“Forever,” Geralt echoed, and pressed a kiss just over Jaskier’s heart.

 The evening was finally, finally winding down. Jaskier’s hand found Geralt’s as the guests began to bid them goodnight and a happy future. Some of them even meant it. Some of them were drunk enough to have some sincerity. Most were never going to welcome them, and that was fine by Jaskier.

He turned to look at Geralt, only to find him already staring. Their smiles matched and they shifted closer. They had survived. This night would soon only be a night. It would never be their wedding night.

“I love you forever,” Geralt whispered, leaning forward to say it into Jaskier’s ear and brush a kiss along the shell.

“Forever,” Jaskier echoed.

[amelialincoln]

So Sorry

Her head was pounding, aching maybe? Nope, more like throbbing. She shook her head in frustration as her sutures broke for the fourth time. She ignored a couple of the confused glances from around the OR. Her sutured were always perfect but today her hands wouldn't stop shaking. It was probably due to dehydration and couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten. It had been back to back traumas all day, every specialty was swamped but neuro had gotten it worst. Owen wasn’t working today which made matters worse. She’d heard the nurses gossiping about him getting a call about a possible lead on his sister. Her heart had swelled a bit at that. She wished she could be there for him but was reminded that being Owen’s therapist wasn’t her job anymore. It was Teddy’s now. Something she might feel jealous about if she wasn’t so happy with Link. They’d planned to get married a year ago but realized some fancy ceremony seemed dumb. They loved each other and that seemed to matter more than anything else.

"Everything okay, Doctor Shepherd?" Deluca asked from beside her. She missed Stephanie, Deluca’s polietness was starting to piss her off.

“Everything's perfect, why?" She squinted into the brain cavity, her eyesight was starting to blur ans she realized how badly she needed a nap.

"No reason." Deluca shook his head. "I can close if you want."

On a normal day Amelia might snap at her him for pointing out her incompetence of a simple skill she'd preformed hundreds of times, instead she just sighed. "Sure, page me when your finished, I'd like to follow up." She handed her instruments to the resident. "Watch the lep–"

"Leptin receptor, I know," He assured her. "Get out of here." Amelia nodded, thanking the scrub nurses beside her, she quickly fled the room. Dizzy didn't even begin to cover how she was feeling as she began to scrub out. Everything was spinning. She waited for a moment of relief, gripping to the edge of the sink.

"Amelia?" She didn't have to look up to recognize her boyfriend's voice.

She took a deep breath, splashing her face with cold water and turned to meet his gaze. "Hey. You all finished for the day?”

"You don't look well," he observed, ignoring her question.

Amelia shook her head as another wave of nausea rolled over her. Her hand flew to her mouth to prevent her from throwing up onto his scrub top. "I don't want to get you sick.” Link held out an arm for her to steady herself and watched the dizziness pass before pulling her into his chest. Normally his cologne would calm her but today she couldn’t help but wince at the strength of it.

"I'll take you home," he assured her, removing her scrub cap and running his hands through her hair to remove the tight braid.

"No," she paused, shutting her eyes tight, "you're busy, I'll be fine."

He took a minute to survey her before placing a hand on her sweaty brow. “You're hot, do you feel feverish?"

"Not particularly, just nauseous."

"You've been spending too much time with Zola at daycare. That place is covered in germs. You probably caught a flu bug." She nodded before suddenly pulling away from him. Her entire body heaved as she threw up in the scrub sink. “The nurses are gonna love that.”

“I just wanna go home,” she mumbled weakly.

"Okay," he promised, "let’s go get your things and I'll take you home."

"It's rush hour, we could be here for awhile," Link muttered, slowing the car down to a stop behind the car in front of them. Amelia peered over the dashboard, a large line of cars blocked her view.

“Ugh,” a groan escaped her mouth as she noticed the traffic blocking her view.

"We're almost home. Another twenty minutes with the traffic." Link tried to sound optimistic as he glanced over at his girlfriend, curled up in her seat with her head leaning on the car door. "Please don't throw up in the car."

"Thanks I'll keep it in mind," she snapped.

"I told you that daycare is full of germs. You're in there almost twice everyday,” he tried to dismiss her anger, knowing she’d been up all night.

"I like how you're making visiting my nieces and nephew seem like a bad thing."

"There's a flu bug going around, you can always visit them at home," Link argued.

"If I have a break I'd rather make use of it then talk to stupid interns for half an hour!" She yelled, pressing her index fingers to her temples.

"Why are you so stubborn?!" He finally huffed, slamming his hands on the wheel of the car.

"Why do you always have to act so freakin righteous? She cried. Link pressed his lips together, gritting his teeth. Traffic has always agitated him as it does Amelia. They weren’t the most patient people.

"All I'm saying is–"

"Can we just not fight right now?" She interrupted. "I'm just really tired."

"Alright,” he tried to soften his voice.

"Good," she answered, cupping her forehead in one hand and squeezing her eyes shut. He felt slightly guilty for adding to her headache. They’d been at a stall for ten minutes when Amelia began to squirm again. Her index fingers roughly massaged her temples and she jumped as Link placed a soft palm on her forehead.

"Hey, hey," he muttered as she relaxed. "Your forehead is still hot, are you sure you're ok?"

"I told you, I'm fine," she mumbled, staring out the window.

"Amelia..." hot red tears rolled down her face and she wiped them away with frustration.

"I said I was fine," she tried to sound irritated but it came out a lot weaker. What she looked like was frail and unhealthy. Something Link had been noticing more frequently about her appearance, always tired, always shaky. She'd lost weight for sure but she keeps telling him that she’s just been swamped with work. He went to caress her side but quickly pulled away in horror as she yelped in pain.

“Okay, what the fuck is going on,” he was surprised by the anger in his own voice. Their relationship was built on trust which was something Link was grateful for every day. Lately he couldn’t shake the fact that she was lying to him.

"Stop yelling at me!" She cried, tears streaming down her face.

"Tell me what's going–"

"I thought I was pregnant!" She blurted out finally. Link’s voice went silent.

"What?"

"We've been t-trying for months and n-nothing was happening," she stumbled over her words as he stares at her in shock. "I was getting nauseas, I-I had this terrible back pain and I was tired all the time." She looked to Link for any flicker of emotion but his face had gone stone cold. "I didn't have time to go get a test at the store and I was so excited," her voice was starting to break, "I went to see Carina and I asked her to run some tests."

Link drew in a shaky breath, trying to hold back any flicker of excitement that might be showing up on his easily readable face. "Okay..."

"But they all came back negative. Carina was as confused as I was. We didn't know what to do except run some more tests. I had an ultrasound done, still nothing. And then I started bleeding and everything started to make sense."

"Bleeding?" Did you have a miscarriage?” He reached for her hand as he forced his own feelings down. Why hadn’t she told him? That was something they should’ve gone through together.

"I went to the bathroom and there was blood," she replied, she took in shaky breaths.

"Okay," Link waited for her to tell him, his heart thumping in his chest. He was almost a father.

"Carina was worried about the same thing as me, considering my family history, so we got a couple scans. They were positive.”

"For..." Link urged her to finish.

"For ovarian cancer. I didn’t want to tell you because initially we thought it was okay. With your history and everything I didn’t want to scare you but it's spreading really quickly. Carina said it could be in my bladder by next week and then possibly my liver. The tumor is located right beside a major bloodstream so it's just shipping cancer cells all over the place." She smiled through her tears, the classic Shepherd appreciation for tumors was written all over her face. "it’s pretty perfect, it’s margins are–"

“Stop,” he suddenly felt like it was him who was going to throw up. The car jolted a little too hard as he pressed in the brakes and stared into her eyes in disbelief. “Are you kidding.” She shook her head, not able to read any of the million scenerios that were running through his mind.

"I had my first round of chemo today.”

"Why the hell are you working?"

"It’s a distraction, I just–”

"And you didn't think that my opinion, being practically your husband, would matter?" He had never been much of a crier but he found himself biting back a sob. “You don’t think that the one who is directly impacted by your wellbeing would want to have a say in any of this?”

“I didn’t want to worry you. I’m trying to figure things out. I didn’t want to drop a major bomb on you without being sure of my prognosis.”

"So your telling me that if I was your position you would've preferred me not to tell you if I was dying?" He glared at her through blurry eyes.

"I didn't say that!" She protested, curling her hands into fists.

“I trusted you to tell me everything. You’ve made me promise you to keep you updated on my cancer shit but you can bother to do the same yourself? This is a joke.” He knew he was projected his issues on her and he hated himself for it.

“I thought I was doing what was best for us,” she tried to explain, running her hands through her hair in frustration. Link stopped, staring into her palms. His hands began to shake on the wheel and his knuckles went white in an attempt to squeeze his hands hard enough to stop the shaking. Amelia glanced down at the hair caught between her fingers and let out a tiny whimper as the couple pulled into the driveway. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms, tell her it was all going to be okay. The idea of watching her go through what he had made him want to run in the other direction. The idea of her hurting was too much for him to bare. He looked at her pale expression, knowing exactly how she was feeling and recounting on all the times he’d prayed to god that her nor their children wouldn’t have too. Children were most likely out of the question at this point though he didn't care as long as she made it. Was this really their reality now? If she made it? He leant over to kiss her, hoping it would suppress his thoughts and prayed that he’d be able to kiss her for the rest of his life. 

an anon requested that Link and Amelia be together rather than Owen and Amelia during her cancer situation. sorry its sad but what were u expecting lol. 

[conaionaru]

Loving you is a losing game (Modern Ivar the Boneless)

Synopsis: Ivar and Agatha look back on their toxic relationship, both unaware of the thruths that led to their break up.

Warning: toxic relationship, break up, drinking, asshole Sigurd,

Five fucking years of relationship all flushed down the drain over a month of problems. It was their anniversary, and Agatha felt like shit.

Once upon a time, she had dreams and hopes. She imagined a life of happiness and success. The university was thought, but so was she, and the moment she made it, she would go onto law school and become a lawyer. Life would bring her money and a good reputation; maybe she would have made it high and become a judge. Do some good in the world.

But it all got fucked over that night; she went out drinking instead of studying. By midnight she was drunk, crying on a stranger's shoulder, complaining about her teacher. The next day she woke up in the boy's bed with a massive hangover.

The cute stranger took her home after she barfed into a bush at 2 pm, and somehow, he liked her enough to date her.

Ivar Lothbrok, the bane of her life.

He should have left her by the vomit in the bushes. But he just had to be perfect and cute; his cocky attitude drew her in, and little by little, she fell for him.

Three years they lived in bliss, going on dates and meeting each other's families. Agatha worked hard to become a lawyer while he worked his way through med school.

He probably is a great doctor, with his little glasses and hair in a top bun in a white lab coat.

Meanwhile, Agatha sits on a rooftop with shot glasses and a bottle of expensive whiskey she stole from home. She was supposed to be in a pastel pencil skirt, with high heels and a neat hairstyle. Not a windy roof drunk and with no cash.

The first of October is today's date, the anniversary that she spent alone in self-loathing. It's not the day they went out for the first time or the party's date where they met. Today marks the day they fought.

It was huge, and she started it. Or maybe he did; it all kinds of blurs together after the seventh shot. Ivar had a paper due, and she was sick, her third day of having food poisoning. He took care of her in the morning; the next thing she remembers is her storming out and getting into his brother's car. His hand was bleeding; he cut himself on a cup he broke in their argument.

She was driving him to get stitches, but the argument wasn't over; Agatha lost control and hit the side of the building pretty hard. The airbags went off, but she still banged her head pretty hard, her head was bleeding, and by the time the paramedics came, she was barely conscious.

Ivar's leg got beaten up pretty badly during the crash, not mentioning Ubbe's car. She was high on medicine while driving and lost her scholarship, ending her hopes as a lawyer. On the other hand, Ivar's leg was so bad he had to get surgery, maybe the metal is still in his foot till today. Even three years after the accident she caused.

If she didn't crash, they would have sorted it out. But Agatha went against his instructions and swallowed more medicine than needed, unaware of her self-medication, Ivar asked her to drive him because of a wound he gave himself in anger against her. All because she felt awful and threw his mistakes in his face.

He went out to party with his brother's at the begging of the month, his brother Sigurd was in town, and they all wanted to celebrate. But they got drunk, and Sigurd got handsy, which made Ivar angry and broke his nose. They didn't argue then; she only gave him a disappointed look and ignored it.

During a dinner with her family, Sigurd threw it in his face, saying she was too good for him. When Ivar ignored the comments, Sigurd said she threw herself on him, and maybe she did, she was too drunk from a drinking bet she made with Hvitserk. But Ivar didn't throw it in her face till the end of the month; instead, he told him to fuck off and became distant from her.

The exams and papers did the rest, the stress too much and the lasagna her mom bought her for her birthday was the final nail. The food poisoning made her bitter, and he got agitated with her vomiting while he tried to focus. They yelled, and the coffee cup broke in his hand. And then the car his the arcade they had their first date at.

They broke up the next day, her not bearing to look at his leg in a cast, the permanent handicap she gave him so painful to see. He couldn't look her in the eye either, maybe because the three stitches over her eye with a popped blood vessel weren't a pretty sign.

The scar was permanent as well, including the depth perception problem she now had. So even if Agatha had her driver's license, she wouldn't be allowed to drive. It's better this way anyway.

But still, she misses him. He was good to her until he started getting mouthy and complained about her low sex drive. Cuddling didn't always cut it for him, and the jealousy around other guys was annoying. But they both kept quiet, too focused on the good parts that they ignored all the bad.

His mother was right, she wasn't good for him, and Ivar wasn't good for her either. Agatha was social and loved crowded places, but he loved silence and intimacy. She compromised and stopped going out, stopped talking to her friends, and instead spent time sleeping in his apartment.

She was too tired from school and constant sex to realize it wasn't a compromise at all; it all came crashing down on her when her mother pointed it out when she came to visit her.

Now she is sitting on top of the closed arcade that she crashed into, trying to remember the sound of the games and his victory smirk as he beat her at a car race. The smell of popcorn that she threw into his hair when he got too cocky for her liking. Maybe she was a sore loser, but at least she didn't have popcorn in her hair.

She was a disgrace without a degree working her ass off at a dinner her aunt owned. When she imagined arguing with strangers, it was supposed to be in court, not as an underpaid waitress smelling od burned coffee. Her parents let her move back home, looking at her like she was a dissapointment. Which she was, of course.

Ubbe stopped by last week on a date with his wife Torvi, who told her how her ex was doing. Ivar graduated and now works in a hospital in Copenhagen. His rich ass is dating an 18-year old model by the name of Freydis. The girl looks cute enough, but Torvi swears she is manipulative and bitchy. So like Ivar on his bad days. He now also uses a cane to walk but is doing ok in therapy; he should be walking on his own in a year.

They were doomed from the start to fail, but she was too blinded by her first love to see it. She got addicted to his cute smiles and ignored the jabs he made against her habits and friends. By the time she was free of him and no longer that depressed, she realized all her friends hated her or were too embarrassed by knowing her.

She poured another four shot glasses for herself and put away the empty bottle. She would nap to sober up later; now, she wanted to numb the need to send him money every year. She sent some to pay for the surgery, the money being useless as his family was rich and had no trouble paying it.

But back then, she wanted him to know she was sorry after seeing the Instagram post Hvitserk made of Ivar's recovery process. She blocked them all on every social media platform, moved back home, and burnt all the photos. But she still knew his phone number by heart.

Fucking prick with his contagious smile and firm muscles, why can't she forget him?

Ivar sat on his balcony, smoking his third cigarette, his right leg propped up on a stool to relieve some of the pain. The medication wasn't helping, and neither was Freydis. His girlfriend of six months was hogging his spacious bedroom to take some photos for her only fans.

He met her at a club where Hvitserk dragged him to, to socialize. He brooded at their booth, not allowed to drink because of his meds. He hated loud music, crowded places, and the pitiful looks people threw him when he limped around. He could even take a piss without somebody asking him if he needed help.

Freydis sat down next to him and leaned against the table so heavily, her boobs nearly fell out of her dress. She flirted with him, and the whole night, in the end, he slept with her. It was supposed to end after that night, but they started a relationship instead. He needed somebody to stroke his ego and his dick, and she needed a sugar daddy.

Three years of therapy, surgeries and crutches, canes, and wheelchairs are getting on his last nerve. Especially now that Ubbe mentioned the temptress that was behind all his problems. Agatha. His ex was a special one, smart and chatty with a constant need for affection.

The brunette collapsed on top of him drunk and gossiped about her teacher for hours. When he finally pried her off, he found her watering the bushes with her vomit, so he took her to her dorm and left. She wrote her number on his arm with a sharpie, and when he felt bored, he hit her up. That led to his longest relationship.

Agatha was a handful; she was far too social and would always make out only to deny sex later. He was frustrated with her all the time until he got what he wanted. She stopped going out and ignored her friends in his favor; the secret to having sex with her were gifts and affection.

He could swallow some romantic comedy if it meant sex afterward. But obviously, it didn't work forever.

Over time, she got more annoying by the week, and her getting too friendly with Sigurd wasn't helping. The bastard stole the girl he liked in high school, and the comments he texted about Agatha's body the same evening was the last nail. He ignored his brother's attempts at angering him and left her out of it.

Instead, he buried it in deep and tried to forget it, like he always did. That is until the night of the accident that she got on his nerves. She was throwing up the whole day, and when he texted Ubbe to bring by a soup, Sigurd read the text only to write back that she was probably pregnant.

Sigurd got inside his head, telling the child could be Ivar's or his or anyones. Maybe the reason she didn't want to sleep with him was that she had side piece, or maybe Ivar was the side piece all along. It made sense to him at the time; she was out so often before, always on her phone.

But after she stopped going out, Agatha got handsy, and their sex life got better. She wasn't so tired, and if he played along, she wasn't so annoying either. He was certain she must be pregnant and hiding it, so he bought a test.

But they never got the results because of the fight that broke out. When Agatha called their relationship toxic, the cup broke in his hand. He wasn't toxic; he was trying to be good to her. But all the short skirts and horny boys weren't helping, or Sigurd's and Hvitserks advice and taunts. He confessed to Hvitserk that their love life was shit, and the first thing his brother told him was there was probably somebody else fucking her instead of him.

He mentioned it in the car on the ride to the hospital; she was so angry that she looked away from the road to yell at him and crashed. He was in pain when the paramedics woke him up to drag him out of the vehicle. She was stapped on a gurned with a neck brace, and there was blood all over her. All because he listened to his brothers and saw her hobbies as signs of cheating.

The next day after his surgery, they broke up; he couldn't even look at her after it all dawned on him. Even if she was pregnant, she definitely lost the baby during the crash. She would need time to get her life in order and recover, and so did he.

So they broke up, and he focused on school and later on his job. He slowly recovered from his injury and moved on. And according to Ubbe, Agatha is better off too. She is working in a less stressful job, looking and eating healthier, no longer the anorexic looking girl he turned her into. She was in a better mindset, and by the amount of money she sent him yearly, she was good at it financially as well.

She was still single, but she would find somebody soon. After all, she had many friends and was always popular; in time, she would be married with kids, and he would be laying next to some other greedy bimbo.

With one last drag, he put his cigarette out and looked at his phone to see two notifications there. A text and a notice from the bank about somebody sending him cash. The text was from a number he still remembered.

"You win, here is your reward, Ives. - Agatha." The same thing it read every year, with that stupid money emoji afterward.

The same thing she told him on their first date before she threw popcorn at him. She was a sore loser and whined whenever she lost. He got addicted to her complaints, loving the way she jokingly called him an ass. That's what their relationship was built on, her losing and him enjoying it.

And yet they both lost in the end. And Ivar missed the dynamic so much; he missed her.

"Come to bed, Ivar. I hit two million; we should celebrate." Freydis purred from behind him. He stood up and limped to their bed with a nod where she sat in her lingerie, grinning from ear to ear.

He sent off a text back before he joined her in bed. "Don't pout, Loser, or I will feel sorry. Happy birthday. - Ivar."

[morosoro]

Reuben

Chapter 20

Summary: Reubens happy little Valentine’s Day bubble pops the moment he gets home.

Ao3 link here

He came home after school to find two visibly upset Scottish women taking tea on the sofa as his boy crawled about on the floor playing with a stuffed rabbit toy. Playing was a generous term, actually, Neal was more so just dragging it around and giggling as it moved each time his hand did. Quality entertainment for a baby, Reuben was sure.

He avoided the scowls from the older women as he crouched down to play with his son, gently taking the rabbit and making it wave to him. The babe giggled at that too. Oh what simpler times, when your happiness would depend on whether something moved or not. Reuben longed to be in the child’s place as Glynis cleared her throat.

“The Hatters called us yesterday.” She supplied.

Reuben huffed a sigh. He was getting tired of people asking about Jefferson. He’d had to answer several people today when asked, and not once had it been met with the aloofness he thought it deserved, Yes, they had a fight! It didn’t seem like a very big deal to him! “Yeah? What about it?” He asked.

“Mrs. Hatter informed me that Jefferson are no longer friends? That you told him to stop acting like himself? Now she didn’t explain precisely what happened, I get the impression she doesn’t know her son as well as she should, but Edith and I got the gist of it. And we are immensely disappointed. We thought we raised you differently.” The women told him, jaw set firm and spine rigid in her discontent.

“What? In the two months I’ve been here? Yes, a lot of raising done on your part.” He replied sardonically.

“You say that as if we weren’t pivotal caretakers of you since birth. You know full well we brought you up just as much if not more than your parents did. Now I suggest you start explaining yourself.”

“We had a disagreement. So what? It’s hardly the end of the world!” He was instantly in a sour mood as soon as this conversation had begun. He was so done having to explain himself to people who refused to understand. Even Belle had been upset with him when he told her what had happened in full. She’d told him he was in the wrong and that should apologize. He had thought out of all people she would’ve understood where he’d been coming from. Now his Aunts seemed to be antagonizing him too?! How come nobody could just give him the benefit of the doubt or see his side?!

“It was more than a disagreement and you damn well know it.”

It’s not like he’d really meant anything he said anyways. He just didn’t like the implications Jefferson’s words had set on the table. Jefferson needed to be taught a lesson, that’s all.

“Okay so I got tired of the jokes. I’m sorry that I don’t want people thinking I’m a bloody buftie who's shagging a dude behind his girlfriend's back.” He sneered, fed up of the conversation already. “I’m sorry for setting some god damn boundaries. In all honesty I think that if he were really my friend and not just hopeful he could ‘turn me queer’ or whatever then he would respect said boundaries.”

Edith gasped at his language, still remaining silent. Glynis’s glare only hardened. “You sound an awful lot like yer father saying words like that.” She said coldly.

His head whipped over to look her in the eye, bewildered rage taking root. How could she say that?! “You take that back!”

Glynis stared right back at him. “Or what? You’ll call us auld hags? Stomp around and break things?” After a beat of silence where he said nothing in preference of continuing to fiddle with his son’s stuffed toy, the woman continued. “Oh? Ignore us then? Your father liked to do that too.”

He stood to his full height quickly, discarding the rabbit as he went. He gestured sharply as he shouted. “Shut the hell up! I’m nothing like him!”

His son started to cry, obviously startled by the loud volume. He froze, staring down at the scared little boy in alarm. Oh no… what had he done? Had he hurt him- he didn’t think he did… but then again he had tossed away the toy pretty carelessly. Had it hit him? No! The idea made him sick.

Could he really be turning into a copy of his father? Was this proof?

Before he could think to reach for his son to try to comfort him, the boy was picked up by Glynis instead. “I wouldn’t be so sure, the lines seemed quite blurred lately.” She hissed in response.

“Glynis- please!” Edith pleaded, her expression softer but still troubled. “Give the lad break? He’s been through a lot lately.”

“That’s no excuse for bigotry and slurs! Did you not hear him, Edith? ‘Buftie’, ‘Queer’? Doesn’t that upset you?” The other woman asked, sounding incredulous.

“Well, yes…” Edith agreed before pausing to sigh lengthily. “But I’m also aware that he’s in a very tough spot. He’s still only a boy, see… He’s bound to have bad days and ugly moments. We all are, Love.” The other said, calm but firm. “ Besides, shouting at him and making him feel like shite won’t get us anywhere productive...”

Still holding the sniffling child, and with her jaw still set Glynis also sighed heavily through her nose. She seemed to calm slightly before deciding “Fine then, you deal with him. I’ll be taking Neal for a stroll down the paths. I suppose I could use some air.”

Edith nodded. “I think that’s best, dear. Thank you.” She then looked at her still visibly angry and hurting great-nephew. “Why don’t you go to yer room? Put on a tape, read a book… calm down some? I’ll come up and speak to you before dinner, Aye?”

Reuben, with clenched fists and hunched shoulders, let out a grumbled “Fine…” before hurrying his way upstairs.

—

He was only a couple chapters further into his copy of ‘Lord of The Rings’ (borrowed off of Moe, actually. The man had recommended it to him a couple of weeks ago) and the chorus to Genesis’ ‘Land of Confusion’ was playing when there was a knock on his bedroom door.

Sighing, he paused his cassette, marked his place in the book and called for the person to come in. To no surprise, Edith entered, and she had brought more tea for the both of them.

She sat herself on the foot of his bed and offered him the mug, he accepted it and took a sip. They sat in silence for a moment before she finally decided to speak. “You know lad, it doesn’t matter how upset you are, it’s never okay to be disrespectful.”

He stayed quiet, only grunting over the rim of his mug in response. She continued. “But we’re not going to talk about earlier today. Glynis and I are older than dirt, we’ve heard it all. We can take it. I want to talk about what happened with Jefferson.”

“We had an argument. What more is there to talk about?” He responded lowly.

“Why?” She asked. “Why were you arguing with him?”

“Because I was sick of the gay jokes.” He answered. “The ones that implied… stuff. I’m no feckin’ fag and he can’t bloody turn me into one!”

The woman let out a hissing sound, as if she had be burned. “See, what we’re not going to do is use terms like that.” She told him, stern voice in place. “Like Glinnie and I have both said, upset is no reason for disrespect.”

The teen was once again quiet as he sipped his tea again. The woman moved ahead in the conversation. “A person cannot ‘turn’ gay or straight. They either like the same sex or they do not. And it is not a bad thing to be that way.” She explained.

“Sure, okay… whatever.” He replied. “It still doesn’t fucking matter. He crossed a line and it made me uncomfortable so I told him to knock it off. That’s it. I don’t see why everyone’s making such a big deal out of it!”

“Because you hurt his feelings. And I think you knew what you said would hurt his feelings. That’s not okay, Reuben. You need to understand that.”

“I get it!” He barked. “I was just upset, okay? I lashed out. It happens…”

“Then it sounds like you need to work on controlling yourself. Maybe start by thinking things over before you say anything, like why Jefferson’s jokes upset you so much in the first place.” And with that she got up to leave again, throwing a casual “Dinner will be ready in an hour.” Over her shoulder as she went.

After the door shut behind her and he was by himself again he let out a frustrated growl. After setting down his tea, he drew his knees to his chest and raked his hands through his hair frustratedly, head hanging low. Why was he like this? Why was his anger like a light-switch? This was definitely something to bring up with his therapist next time.

He sighed then as he made a small connection in his head. Dr. Hopper had told him last time that he ought to take time for himself to think and figure things out and work on ‘self-improvement’. Edith had just told him to do pretty much the same thing. He glanced to his nightstand where the crinkled pamphlet-turned-coaster sat, and after a moment’s consideration, he reached for it, taking it out from under his mug. He turned to the second page.

‘Ask yourself ‘Why?’. Contemplate response. Consider your reasonings. Repeat.’

Why did Jefferson’s Joke upset you?

“Because it made me uncomfortable.” He mumbled.

Why did it make you uncomfortable?

“Because… I could picture it?”

Picture what?

‘I’m straight!’

‘So is spaghetti until you get it hot and steamy.’

‘Hot and steamy’

Hot and steamy...

“Fuck!” He growled out, tossing the pamphlet away. “This is bloody stupid! I’m not getting anywhere!” He told himself as he rubbed at his eyes, trying to will the unwanted images away. Seriously, what the hell was wrong with him today?! He hated it. He hated himself.

It was hard to believe today had started out so lovely, with his girlfriend in his arms and a promise ring in question.

“I need a nap.” He decided. “A long one.”

———

Doctor Hopper was a strange individual. The kind of man that made Reuben wonder how his son Archie had become… well… Archie. Guys like Archie tended to have strict, straight-edge, academics-obsessed fathers. The type with the big glasses and button-down shirts that they tucked so neatly into their khakis. They were a vision of who their sons would become, but not Doctor Hopper.

No, Doctor Hopper was more laid back. Yes, he wore khakis and button downs but in a much more sloppy-casual sense. His hair was long and he wore a cowboy hat atop his head. He didn’t tip-toe with his words, he just spoke freely from his thoughts (and his degree, hopefully). He was also just odd enough for Reuben to believe he’d likely had a few run-ins with the law in the past. Yes, Reuben could definitely see this man scamming people of their money, or being picked up off the street where he lay a drunk… or something… fool. And yet this man was somehow his therapist and he was supposed to trust him and his advice. It was certainly a peculiar situation.

They currently sat opposite each other, Reuben on a large leather sofa, and Dr. Hopper laid back in the matching armchair. The latter was having a cigarette as he listened to his patient’s concerns.

He puffed out a measured stream of smoke before speaking. “So, basically, you’ve been acting like a cunt to your friends and family and you don’t know why?”

“Uh…” Reuben shrugged his shoulders awkwardly. “Yeah?”

“You just freak out when you feel targeted? As in you just suddenly feel like you have to defend yourself… but really all you're doing is spewing shit?” At the teens nod the therapist took another puff, answering with his exhale “Sounds like anger issues to me, kid. Probably got it from the alcoholic disgrace you call a dad.”

Reuben huffed a worried sigh. “So what? You think I’m going to wind up like him?”

“Nah, unlikely.” The man responded with a dismissive wave of his hand. “You both have issues and bad trauma, but yours is just…” he mimicked the sound of an explosion. “Different. That stuff really shapes a person. You’ll be fine… or well… as fine as someone like you could be.”

Someone like him? He wondered what that implied. He didn’t want to ask. Instead he focused on the positive. “You think so?”

“Yeah, kid. As long as you keep trying to get better, hell yeah! Anger issues? No problem kid. We can manage that with just a bit of work.” The adult said before taking another draw.

Curious, Reuben asked him “What kind of work?”

“Thinking. Self-help work, kid. You know about it, it was in the pamphlet. First off, why do you think you were acting like a cunt in the first place?”

Running his hands through his hair, Reuben groaned. He should’ve known. “Because my friend was making jokes that I didn’t like. They made me uncomfortable.”

“Okay, but why?” The man prompted him to expand on it.

“Because they were implying something that I didn’t want to be implied.”

“So it’s something you’re insecure about then?”

That gave Reuben a moment’s pause. Was he insecure about his sexuality? “.... no?” At least he didn’t think so.

“You don’t sound sure about that.”

Fuck.

He huffed, frustration growing. “What do you mean? I’m definitely secure about it!” He snapped.

“Whoa man-“ the therapist warned. “Don’t go acting like a cunt on me now. I’m just trying to help you figure this out.”

The teen pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated with himself more than anything. “I know… I’m sorry. I just don’t know why it upset me.”

“Then you just gotta think a little deeper about it sometime. But don’t try to rush it. Take your time to figure you out, Y’know?”

“I-I guess?” They were quiet for a moment before he asked “What do you think the reason was?”

“Hey, I can’t really say for sure, I’m not in your head. But to me it just sounds like the jokes just hit too close to home. He hit a nerve, something you're insecure about and don’t want to address. Whatever it is, you should probably address it before you try to apologize to this guy. You do want your apology to be as genuine as possible, right?”

Confused and practically in a stunned silence, he realized the implication his therapist had just made. He only swallowed thickly and nodded, squeaking out a broken sounded “Yeah, right.”

[vestancethesmol]

The Taste of a Tiny~

Word count: 1.7k

tw: fatal, vore, g/t vore, fear play

this was somethin i made for @patpat-snore since there's no vore fics for preds really (this is in the pov of a pred) I hope you like it lots!!! I'm sorry if I did bad!

It was a terrible day for you, your coworker called in sick and asked you to cover his shift, and for some dumb reason, you did it. Although if you had known what you were in for that day, you would've hung up the moment that they called you. It was horrible, it was the holidays of course, so everyone was in a rush, people were in terrible moods, makes you wonder what happened to the “holiday spirit” which is supposedly in the air. But for your workplace, the holiday spirit may as well have been nonexistent with how this women was treating you. She was screaming, demanding to purchase an item that hadn't been in store for weeks now, due to the fact that it was probably Christmas Eve of all times, and last minute shopping never went well. But she didn't care, she wanted it and she wanted it now. It was only until your General manager had stepped in that she finally caved in and went home, muttering a string of curse words and bad cheer under her breath as she exited. The day was awful sure, but as if Lady Luck herself had come down and smooched you on the cheek, your boss told you that you could go home early!!! You practically skipped out of the building after clocking out, you were so happy, you had never gotten out this early. A myriad of things to do with your newfound free time were swimming in your head. But as lady luck was smiling upon you, she was not smiling upon an unknown resident of your home…

Unbeknownst to you, there had been a little woman living within your apartment walls for quite some time. She was always careful, always meticulous, learning your schedule perfectly so that she wouldn't end up getting spotted by her massive roommate, but it wouldn't help her today, as this was the first time in years that you had ever clocked out sooner that 5:30. She was out in your apartment, sneaking out little nibbles of the loaf of bread that had been sitting in your pantry for a few days now, a little morsel of the spongy grain saddled on her back, ready for transport back into her home. She snuck her way out onto the kitchen counter, the hidden entryway to her living space mere feet away as the apartment door slowly creaked open, a heart stopping chill running its way across the borrower’s spine, freezing her in her tracks like a deer in headlights. Her day about to take a turn for the worse.

You lazily dropped your keys on the table, and walked into your kitchen, very very very very very hungry after an annoying day’s work, but what you laid your eyes on was not food, well not yet anyway, but a tiny woman instead, her tiny eyes wide with fear, the piece of bread falling from

her grasp and onto the counter without a sound. Your own eyes were wide too, way wider than hers obviously, but still, it was a massive surprise to you too. You had always heard stories from your grandmother of the little people who lived in people’s walls, and were always excited by them, always searching for them whenever you went to her house. But you always thought that those stories were just fairy tales, made up for little kids to give them a sense of wonder in the world, you didn't expect for one to be in your house! Although… you always did have this bizarre fascination with what a tiny human would taste like. What it would feel like for them to wriggle down your hungry gullet. What it would feel like to have them writhe and squirm inside your cavernous belly as they were turned into nutrients for your body.You suddenly found yourself licking your lips with hunger, a gluttonous look in your eyes, and to top it off, a devious smile painting itself across your features. A smile that could only mean danger for the little thief inside your apartment.

“By all means, enjoy the piece of bread little one, you've clearly earned it, after all, if I hadn’t gotten home early you would've already eaten it” You said sinisterly, your much larger eyes studying the tiny, like a butcher’s customer would study the cuts of meat, wondering how she would taste once you had gotten her into your maw. You had decided to hold off on devouring her outright, not until you had sufficiently toyed with her. “I-if you insist mister, th-thank you for letting me have this, I r-really appreciate it” she stammered sheepishly, tentatively taking little nibbles of the bread, the tiny very clearly still terrified of what you might do now that you had found out that she was living in your home. After a minute or two of nibbling she had finally finished her snack, although yours was just about to begin you had thought to yourself…

“Th-thank you for letting me eat some of your bread mister, now if you don't mind I’ll just get out of your hair by going back to my ho-”

“Going so soon? But we had just met little one, and after all, you may have had your food, but I haven't had mine quite yet” You chuckled ominously before slamming your hand down atop the counter, mere inches from the tiny female who was about to escape, causing her to fall backwards onto her rear in shock. “Wh-what do you mean by food?” she inquired meekly, the little one crawling backwards, away from your massive palm that was blocking her path “What do I mean by food? Well I mean you my dear~ After all, if a delectable little treat is going to waltz around my countertops, who am I to miss out on this golden opportunity?” You explained, your hungry eyes never once leaving her frail and vulnerable form. She just looked so… helpless like this so… delicious, you couldn't wait any longer your, your free hand swooped in to snatch her up, each one of your fingers wrapping around her like a snake, making her confinement in your hand more and more secure with each digit that had curled around her. You lifted her up effortlessly, bringing your adorably helpless prey up to your face. “Don't worry little one, this won't hurt… much, and, don't think about it as your end, think of it as a very warm, very wet roller coaster ride, ok?” You stated, letting your warm breath spill out over your meal with each word, giving her a taste of what's to come inside of your hungry, hungry mouth. “Ahhhh~” You opened wide and stuck out your tongue, placing your tiny, feminine morsel atop the pink muscle, marinating her in your own saliva as you slowly withdrew your tongue back into your cavernous maw. Once the snack had been brought in past your teeth, you shut your mouth, giving her a curtain of your pearly white teeth instead of the kitchen light that she used to see, but her journey wasn't quite over yet as you waggled your tongue around inside your mouth, making sure to get the little visitor thoroughly coated in your own saliva before her trip down your throat. You could feel her squirms, it was so very clear that she was trying to fight your tongue, it felt like a little wrestling match to you, a wrestling match that you won quite easily as you pinned her beneath your tongue, pressing her little body against the floor of your mouth, licking all over her little body. You tasted every inch of her, she was so perfect, sweeter than a piece of your favorite candy. You felt her little arms trying to push up against your snake-like tongue, but it was no use at this point, it was very clear that you were fully intent on devouring her like the piece of food that she was. In one last, little tease, you decided to let her head pop out from beyond your lips, your tongue wrapping itself around her waist in order to prevent escape. You looked upon her adorable little head, her hair stuck to her face and the side of her head now that it had been doused with your spit, you giggled to yourself, the chuckles reverberating throughout your body, causing your guest to rumble a tad bit as your finger drew ever so close to her little head, the digit making a circular motion as it crept closer… and closer until… boop! Your giant finger pushed her head back inside to your awaiting mouth, your tongue assisting in the task to pull her back in. “Alright, enough games, I can't wait any longer” You thought to yourself, a giddy grin breaking out along your face, excited at the prospect of a real life borrower meal!

“Bye Bye little one~ enjoy the roller coaster ride down” You murmured to your struggling prey before throwing your head back, letting the delectable woman slide down, savoring her flavor on each taste bud as she skidded past, plummeting down your warm throat, you brought up one of your fingers to the bulge in your throat, trailing its descent down and down and down until they fell into the bottom of your gut, where you let your hand rest on your now full belly, a content smile upon your face at having enjoyed a wonderful meal. “Thank you for the food dear, you were absolutely delicious, so delicious that I wish that there were mo-URP!” Your monologue cut off by a massive belch erupting past your lips, probably your tummy thanking you for feeding it. “As I was saying, so delicious that I wish I could taste you over and over again, but sadly, I'll have to settle for this one time” You spoke softly, drumming your fingers over the spot where she had landed, the tiny clearly still moving around inside, hopefully coming to terms with her digestion. “All this playing made me sleepy, I think I'll take a nap little one, don't go anywhere~” You teased, going off to your bedroom to sleep as your little passenger would soon digest inside you, hopefully giving you energy for your workday tomorrow...

[keelywolfe]

Drabble: Home (baon)

Summary: All small towns aren't created equal.

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Andy(Jeff)

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read in on AO3!

or

Read it here!

 ~~*~~

Jeff hadn’t been living in New New Home very long, only a couple months and he'd learned a few things since then. For one, the Monster community wasn’t very large and New New Home couldn’t be properly called a city. It was more of a town and a small one at that.

He’d grown up in a small town, where everybody knew everyone, including all their personal business, and when he’d moved to Ebott for college, Jeff had been pretty sure that was exactly the kind of life he didn’t want to have again. Funny how it turned out that the town wasn’t the actual problem, only the people living in it.

In New New Home, he could take a walk down the street and know that everyone he saw would smile and wave. People still knew him by name but absolutely none of them would be on the phone in moments, vindictively eager to blab to his parents about what they’d seen him doing or where he went or who he was with, and they could couch the words with all the false concern in the world. The truth of it was they were hurrying to share malicious gossip before anyone else could and waiting for the inevitable fallout.

Not that there weren’t plenty of wagging tongues in the Monster community, heck, Blue was a champion at it, but somehow, it was different. His tidbits were always wrapped in fondness and if he mentioned that so-and-so started dating whose-their-face, it was always with the greatest hope that the date went well and that a second would follow, and if his worries for Stretch might be over the top, well, he kept it mostly to himself.

Jeff never knew before coming here that gossip could be kind.

The Bun Bakery was within walking distance of their house and it was an uncommonly warm day for spring, sunny and bright. Perfect for a leisurely stroll. Edge’s baking would always be Jeff’s favorite, but he guiltily admitted that the Bun Bakery was pretty damn close second. Plus, Edge didn’t make the little cinnamon bunny bites they did, always fresh and warm right from the oven, the sugar and cake almost melting away on his tongue.

The older Bun lady behind that counter didn’t even ask Jeff for his order anymore, already scooping the treats into a paper bag the second the doorbell jangled as he stepped inside.

Today, though, he decided to change it up. “Can I get two bags this time?”

“Hungry, are we?” Gemma laughed, shaking out another small bag. Her long ears were folded down underneath a mesh hairnet. The Bun family was huge, and Jeff was still getting the hang of it, but he was pretty sure this was Edge’s assistant Janice’s cousin. Pretty sure.

“I could probably eat ten bags before I got sick of them, but I’m trying to keep my girlish figure,” Jeff said wryly. “This one is for a friend.”

A minute to swipe his card and Jeff was back outside in the fresh air, heading back the way he came as he started in on his own bag of goodies.

Edge and Stretch lived on the same road as Blue did, all Jeff needed to do was hang a right instead of a left at the intersection. The garage door was open and he could see the vague outline of Edge inside. He was sitting on the concrete floor next to his motorcycle, his bad leg stretched out in front of him, all velcro-ded into that knee-high boot that acted as a sort of splint.

“Good morning, Jeff.” To Jeff’s not at all surprise, Edge didn’t even look up from what he was working on. Dark fluid was running from the engine into a shallow pan on the ground.

"Hiya. Just stopping by, thought I'd bring Stretch a treat." He held up a bag of cinnamon bunny bites, his own empty one crumpled guiltily into his fist.

It really was fascinating to watch Edge whenever someone mentioned Stretch. Edge always looked sort of fierce, his skull was sharply angular where the others were more rounded. His visible teeth were jagged and sharp, the crack through his socket adding an aura of danger, and his bearing tended towards aloof on a good day. He made Jeff sort of think of a lion, standing alone on the savanna, fierce and proud.

But one mention of Stretch and his entire expression sort of…softened. Not literally, but Jeff couldn’t think of a better way to describe it. His intense crimson eye lights went fuzzy at the edges, the corners of his mouth turned up in an almost smile. Maybe people who didn’t know him couldn’t tell, but to Jeff’s eye it was practically a physical statement of adoration. It never lasted long, vanished back under the stoic pretty quickly, but Jeff knew it was there, lurking under the surface.

“I’m sure he’d appreciate that, he never turns down sugar,” Edge said dryly. “He was napping, last I saw, you can knock on the door and see if he’s awake.”

“I’ll text him in a minute,” Jeff decided. He hunkered down, instead, peering at the motorcycle curiously, “What are you doing?”

“Maintenance.” Edge wiped away a trickle of sweat from his forehead with the back of his gloved hand where it wasn’t smeared with grease. “I won’t be able to ride it anytime soon, but the engine still needs maintained. Hand me the socket wrench?”

Jeff hesitated, not wanting to admit he didn’t have half a clue what a socket wrench was. Edge only pointed patiently, and Jeff handed it over. He watched as Edge used it expertly, and his mouth, like it so often did, decided to run off without him. “Can I ask you something personal?”

“You can ask.” The implication being that Edge might not answer. “Now the new filter.”

Jeff handed over the rounded, ribbed thing Edge pointed out. “When did you know you were in love with Stretch?"

At first, he didn't think Edge was going to answer. His hands kept moving, screwing in the new filter, then picking up a funnel to add fresh oil to the tank.

"That's a difficult question," he said at last. “You know I love him. I can say that now. When we first started dating, it wasn't so easy.” His eye lights flicked briefly to Jeff. “Being with Stretch is like not knowing I was colorblind my entire life and then looking into the sky after a storm to suddenly see a rainbow.” That softness went over his face again and his voice dropped until Jeff had to strain to hear. “Colors I never knew existed until I knew him.”

Not really an answer to the question, but Jeff let it go. That was a better answer to an unasked question, anyway.

“Done,” Edge said decisively. He stripped off his dirty gloves and set them with the pile of oily rags. “All right, then, let’s go in and wake up my husband, shall we?”

Jeff stood and automatically held out a hand to help Edge up. He faltered at the last second and almost drew it back; metaphors aside, he didn’t know much about proud lions on the savanna, but he knew that Edge bristled over showing even minor weaknesses and he wasn’t big on touching either if it wasn’t Stretch doing the feeling.

Edge never hesitated, setting his bare hand firmly into Jeff’s. The bones of his hands were cooler than Stretch’s, rough with scars, the sharpened tips didn’t so much as graze Jeff’s skin. He let go without undue haste when he was back on his feet and if Edge realized the import of that one small action to Jeff, it didn’t show. He only grabbed his cane and headed towards the door. “Are you staying for lunch?”

“Um…yeah,” Jeff said weakly, then stronger, “Yeah, sure. What are we having?”

He followed Edge into the house, into the living room where Stretch was starting to stir on the sofa and as predicted, his sleepy smile turned to pure delight when Jeff handed over the bag of treats even as Edge scolded him affectionately not to ruin his appetite for lunch.

A different small town, a different family, and for the first moment in an achingly long time, Jeff felt like he was home.

-finis-

[cherryblossomwatts]

talk soon

He wakes up and squints blearily at his phone, charging on the bedside table.

3:22 AM, it reads. That means he and Garrett have been sleeping for... almost sixteen hours now.

He moves, turning onto his side to look at Garrett, soft in the moonlight. He feels weak just at the sight of him.

Not even forty-eight hours ago, he had stepped into the bathroom at Shane's while the TV blared in the next room - called Garrett in a panic, his chest tight. Garrett had picked up on the first ring and said immediately, "I just bought tickets to Spokane - 7:00am tomorrow."

"Garrett -"

"Come with me, Andrew," he'd prompted. This was the most serious Andrew had ever heard him. "I need to make sure you're safe. My mom says we can have the guest bedroom for as long as we need."

Andrew took a shaky breath and said, "I'm driving back to my place and packing, then coming to yours."

You can read more on AO3, or below the cut!

"Okay. I, uh - love you, Andrew."

"I love you, too, bud. I'll see you soon."

They'd spent the rest of that night wrapped around each other, sleeping side by side on Garrett's beat-up couch until Andrew's alarm went off at four in the morning. They hurried to the airport and got on the quietest flight Andrew'd ever been on, and crashed on the guest bed at Garrett's mom's place four hours later, almost immediately after they arrived.

Now Garrett stirs in his arms; murmurs, "Andrew," and presses closer, snug against his chest.

"Go back to sleep, Garr," he whispers.

He does; they do.

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Shane 🐷🐷 5:37pm: Hey Andrew, hope everything is going ok for u and Garrett. Stay safe, don't know what I'd do without u!!!

Reply 8:16pm: sorry about the delay, was taking a nap. me and garrett are doing good:) Reply 8:18pm: hope you and ry are staying safe too 💞

Shane 🐷🐷 8:21pm: We are :) Shane 🐷🐷 8:21pm: Btw, any chance youve asked Garrett about what u and I talked abt a few weeks ago? Shane 🐷🐷 8:25pm: Feel like now's the perfect time. Nowhere for him to run

[ Read at 8:26pm ]

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Garrett's mom comes each day and wakes them if they aren't up by noon, knocking softly on their door every time. Today, she comes bearing a tray heaped with food, the delicious aroma of waffles and bacon and eggs wafting into the bedroom. She is golden and merry and just as lovely as her son as she sets the meal down on the dresser next to the bed.

Andrew rubs his eyes, pushes himself up on his elbows, and smiles at Linda. Garrett remains asleep next to him. He looks small like this, burrowed into the covers as he is.

Andrew wants to kiss him.

"Good morning," Linda says sweetly, arranging and fussing at the silverware on the plates before her. "Sleep well, honey?"

Andrew loves how affectionate she is; how she rewards him every other sentence with endearments so incredibly reminiscent of Garrett. "Yeah, I did," he replies. "Still waiting to hear back from this one, though." He motions to Garrett, and Linda smiles at her son as if he's the only good left in the world.

Andrew likes to think he is, at times like these.

"Don't let him sleep in too late, sugar," she says. She pats Andrew's cheek, and he recalls a distant memory of Garrett saying she grew up in the south, although any trace of the accent she may have once had has since vanished.

"I won't." He grins up at her. "Thank you so much for breakfast -"

She tsks and cuts him off. "Anything for my boys," she starts, and Andrew loves that, absolutely adores it. He loves Linda as if she were his own mother, and revels in the way she treats him like a son. "Eat up, now, 'Drew. We can't have you two getting sick during this whole fiasco."

Then she's closing the door behind her, and Andrew is turning to Garrett, slipping an arm over his waist under the covers and poking softly at his side to wake him up. Garrett shifts and giggles, trying to escape Andrew's grasp, but he doesn't relent.

"'R'you tickling me, Andrew Siwicki?" he hears Garrett say, muffled because his head is beneath the blanket.

"And what if I am?" Andrew says, continuing to do so until he hears Garrett's rich, pealing laughter, clear as a bell. Garrett writhes and kicks the blanket off, and Andrew sees that as his chance to pin Garrett down on the sheets, pushing his hands up above his head and leaning over him and -

Garrett stills, and Andrew immediately stops, taking in the way Garrett gazes up at him. As if he's waiting for Andrew.

To do what? he thinks, blinking slowly, spellbound.

Then Garrett clears his throat and says, softly, "Breakfast is getting cold," and Andrew bites his lip, draws back, moves to let Garrett sit up. The taller of the two reaches over and settles the tray upon the bed between them.

"What do you wanna do today?" Garrett asks between sweet mouthfuls of syrupy sweetness. Andrew cannot help but think of Garrett's café lights, washing over them in a warm glow on summer evenings. Feeding ants out on the patio while they listen to some antiquated songs on Garrett's July playlist, because Garrett has the best taste in music and that's just a fact.

"Let's stay in bed all day," he says. He takes Garrett's hand and, without thinking, kisses his knuckles as gently as he can. "Harry Potter marathon," he continues, blushing bright red, and revels in the delight playing across Garrett's features.

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G 🌸🐊⭐💕 3:54pm: Hey Andrew!!!!!!!

Reply 4:00pm: why are you texting me while we're in the same room together???

G 🌸🐊⭐💕 4:01pm: I want to feel like I'm busy and important and have people to text during quarantine✨✨

Reply 4:03pm: you are very busy! and important! Reply 4:03pm: but you could just talk to me out loud

G 🌸🐊⭐💕 4:04pm: Not during the movie!!!

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"Go ask your mom if we can go for a drive," Andrew murmurs against Garrett's neck, and relishes the way Garrett shivers beneath him.

They are curled up on the couch in the living room, and Andrew is... well, just a little bit drunk - but Garrett's only had one, and all Andrew wants is to get out of the fucking house - Linda's house, Linda's beautiful, stunningly wonderful home, but a fucking prison nonetheless - and watch Garrett with his hands on the steering wheel, and maybe imagine Garrett gripping his hips like that in bed, and -

"It's two a.m., Andrew, she's asleep," Garrett is giggling, opening his arms as Andrew nuzzles even closer to him. His hand moves up and down Andrew's shoulder, grounding Andrew, keeping him tethered so he doesn't float away, as happy as he is right now, heart swelling in his chest. "I don't think it's the best idea. We're supposed to be staying inside, anyway."

"We can just... take her keys," Andrew says. His eyes are slowly closing all by themselves, as he lets Garrett's warmth overtake him, wash over him. "She won't notice. Or mind. You know how much she, um... she likes me." He hiccups a little, which gives way to a stream of giggles, and Garrett is laughing with him, pulling him in even closer and tucking Andrew up against him.

"Please, Garrett. I just wanna get out of the house."

"Okay, fine," he relents, and Andrew hums happily, sliding the rest of the way into Garrett's lap. "Am I gonna have to carry you out to the car?"

That sets him off again, until finally, he manages, "I can still walk, you silly," and gets up just to show Garrett how good he is at doing so. If he was sober, maybe he'd notice the look of seeming disappointment on Garrett's face as he stood up.

But he's more than a little tipsy, so he doesn't.

Garrett grunts with surprise when they enter the garage and, instead of going to the car, Andrew pulls on Garrett's sleeve and leads him through the open door. "Where are we going, Andrew?" Garrett laughs, and Andrew just shushes him, until finally, they're standing in the dark grass on the front lawn.

"Andrew, what - ?"

"Look up," Andrew breathes, and Garrett does, inhaling sharply at the vast, starry expanse glimmering over them.

Silence stretches between them for what feels like an eternity, as Andrew watches Garrett and Garrett watches the cosmos, undulating above their heads.

"I forgot what it was like," Garrett says after a while, head still turned upwards. "I haven't bothered to look for them in such a long time."

"You do live in L.A.," Andrew says sympathetically.

"Yeah..." Garrett turns to face Andrew, who still isn't looking at the stars. "Do you ever -" he says, then clears his throat. "Do you ever wish you didn't live in the city, Andrew?"

"All the time," Andrew replies - maybe a little too quickly. He can feel the effects of the alcohol beginning to lift as he takes a step closer to Garrett, sobering under the intensity of his gaze.

He wants this. He wants a life with Garrett.

Maybe after all this is over, they can readjust, reassess; find a place of their own where they can sit on their porch and look out at the stars every night. Andrew could take Garrett back home, to Illinois, and they wouldn't have to live in the city or the 'burbs - they can find a nice place out in the middle of nowhere, another tiny house for them to love each other in. They can drive to Chicago whenever Garrett wants to shoot a video, and Andrew can finally say everything he wants to say to Garrett on camera, without having to think about hiding his feelings or stifling his laughter or trying not to kiss him -

"We should think about it," he says suddenly. "Once this is over. Once things go back to normal."

Garrett just looks at him, smiling in the way he reserves only for Andrew.

He thinks that Garrett wants to kiss him. He swallows.

Then Garrett seems to remember where they are, and grins, flashing the car keys at Andrew. "We should probably go," he says, and Andrew is just the tiniest bit disappointed, but still smiles at him anyway.

"Make sure you don't put those in the fridge when we get back," he teases, laughing as Garrett shoves him gently with his shoulder, before wrapping an arm securely about Andrew's waist.

They drive for about an hour, and Garrett does most of the talking, coasting down the highway and telling Andrew about a new video idea he's had and steering with one hand. Andrew lets him, basking in the brilliance of Garrett's voice, drinking his fill of the sight of Garrett's strong biceps, his shoulders, feeling an overwhelming sense of calm until he is slowly drifting off to sleep...

The next thing he knows, he is in Garrett's arms, and it feels like how his father used to carry him inside at the ends of long road trips, and he knows nothing but peace as he lets Garrett cradle him, lets his head fall against Garrett's shoulder and feels so very small, so safe.

...and if the next day, Linda comes into their room to whack her son over the head with an empty paper towel roll and give a chuckled, half-threatening, not-really-much-heart-in-it "Garrett Sageun Watts, if you ever take my car without asking again, I'll do more than just smack you" - well, then he doesn't think Garrett will mind.

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[ VOICEMAIL from "Ryland Adams" at 12:01pm ]

"Hey, Andrew! Hope you're doing okay! Me and Shane are all holed up in our house with the animals, and we miss you a lot! Shane was just telling me yesterday about how weird it is not having you around... Anyway, I hope you're not too bored in Washington. Call me back when you have time! We'd love to hear your voice again. Maybe we can do a FaceTime mukbang or something, that'd be fun. Oh, and Shane mentioned - what? No, I'm leaving a voicemail... Well, don't let him do that! Ugh. Sorry, Andrew, Cheeto's trying to scratch up the couch or something, so I've gotta go, but - Shane mentioned there was something he wanted to talk to you about? Maybe something about his latest edit...? Anyway - talk soon! We miss you so much."

[ ... ]

[ DELETE MESSAGE? ]

[ ... ]

[ Message deleted. ]

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"Are you okay, Andrew?"

He glances at Garrett and smiles, then returns his eyes to the road. "Yeah, sweetheart, why wouldn't I be?"

"Um," Garrett says. Andrew takes pleasure in just how flustered he can make him with one word. "Um, I dunno, I just... uh, you seem kind of, um, distracted lately?"

Shit. So Garrett has picked up on the fact that Andrew can't stop anxiously obsessing over how he's going to breach the subject of Shane to him.

He reaches over, rests his hand on Garrett's thigh. "Distracted by how cute you are?"

He doesn't know what it is about the state of the world that's instilled such boldness, such courage in him - but he doesn't care to wonder, as enthralled as he is with Garrett's nervous laughter, Garrett's rosy cheeks. He turns his palm face up without looking over, smiles to himself when Garrett takes the invitation to lace their fingers together.

"Th-that's not exactly what I was talking about, Andrew, but I think -"

"That's what I was talking about, Garr. It's all I've been thinking about, recently."

Garrett flushes bright red and tries to stammer something out, but eventually settles for a contented silence and the most adorable little smile Andrew's ever seen.

Andrew eventually turns into the grocery store parking lot and pulls the car to a stop, slowly, reluctantly drawing his hand back from Garrett's grasp. "Still got that list?" he asks, and Garrett holds it up to show Andrew Linda's slanted, immaculate handwriting, refusing to meet Andrew's gaze.

"Hey," he says, reaching over to gently turn Garrett's face towards him. "Look at me?"

Garrett hesitates, but finally meets Andrew's eyes, still blushing furiously.

"You ready, Garr?"

He nods, and Andrew grins; presses a kiss to Garrett's cheek so he won't see the worry in his eyes; gets out and locks the car.

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Reply 9:05am: hey. any chance shane and ryland have been acting weird w you lately?

morgchella💎🦄 1:12pm: Oops sorry justwoke up morgchella💎🦄 1:12pm: im Very hungoevr lmaooo

Reply 1:20pm: nice 🤩

morgchella💎🦄 1:22pm: But no??? has smth happened with u guys?

Reply 1:23pm: shane keeps getting on me to talk to garrett

morgchella💎🦄 1:27pm: About what?????

Reply 1:28pm: them

morgchella💎🦄 1:28pm: ??????????????? morgchella💎🦄 1:29pm: Wtf does that mean

Reply 1:30pm: oh Reply 1:30pm: has garrett not told u...?

morgchella💎🦄 1:34pm: Im so lost andrew lmfao

Reply 1:38pm: things have been really weird between them lately. ryland wont even talk to garrett anymore and shane hasn't been inviting him over at all. garrett's definitely noticed Reply 1:39pm: i mean his song hit #3 in hiphop and shane didnt say anything to any of us. that doesn't seem odd to u??

morgchella💎🦄 1:41pm: ***yOUr song morgchella💎🦄 1:41pm: (you both worked on it ad i still havent stopped listenign to it) morgchella💎🦄 1:43pm: So whys shane trying to talk to him all of a sudden?

Reply 1:44pm: i think he wants to either cut garrett off completely or make amends. i can't tell

morgchella💎🦄 1:51pm: Do u want me to talkvto them??

Reply 1:51pm: no its fine. i'll sit garrett down and tell him shane wants to talk. i've been keeping this from him for a while

morgchella💎🦄 1:52pm: The groupchat has been pretty dead recently..... morgchella💎🦄 1:53pm: I'll talk to garr soon. I didnt even realize this was happening. morgchella💎🦄 1:55pm: I justfilmed a video last night and like printed out a bunch of pics of Squad thats gonna be pretty awkward

Reply 2:00pm: hahahahahahhahsfkljglfgkl Reply 2:00pm: u good morg?

morgchella💎🦄 2:02pm: 🤪

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He hadn't meant to disappear down an editing hole, but when he finally emerges from Linda's little home office at a quarter to midnight, he cusses himself out in his head. How could he have spent the entire day away from Garrett - and why hadn't Garrett come to visit him?

"Hey," he says, knocking on the door frame of their bedroom. Garrett is sitting up in bed, scrolling on his phone, and he looks so tired, but god, if he isn't the most beautiful thing Andrew's ever seen in his life -

"Hi, Andrew!" he says cheerfully, moving over so there's space for Andrew to sit next to him.

"I missed you," Andrew says softly, staying fixed to the doorway. "A lot."

"I missed you, too."

"What've you been up to today?" he asks. He keeps looking at Garrett, whose head has dropped down to his phone again, and tries to gather up the courage for what he's about to do.

"Mm, well, I edited for most of the day, and now I'm just" - he lifts up the phone to show Andrew - "looking at Twitter. Apparently, people are wondering why we've been so silent recently, isn't that funny, Andrew?"

"I think we needed a break," he replies, finally moving forward to sit on the bed, one leg hanging off. "It's been a long time since we've just enjoyed each other's company and not thought about anything else."

Garrett sets his phone down; looks at Andrew like he hung the moon and stars; says, "I think so, too."

It can't be helped. Andrew will just write it off as the way Garrett gazed at him like he was everything, as he leans forward, touches Garrett's cheek with the palm of his hand, and kisses him.

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Caleb 👶🎶🎶 1:17pm: Yo Andrew hope u and Garrett are enjoying ur quarantine together ;)) Caleb 👶🎶🎶 1:18pm: U better tell me when yall finally hook up Caleb 👶🎶🎶 1:20pm: Or have u already?

Reply 1:47pm: a lady doesn't kiss and tell, caleb 😘😘😘

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There's flour on Garrett's shirt - and on his nose, and in his hair, and oh, Jesus, Garrett's absolutely covered in it, coated from head to toe. Andrew feels the giggles rise in his chest, exploding from his mouth as he cackles Garrett's name, realizes just how ridiculous the situation before his eyes is - and now Garrett's laughing, too, which just makes Andrew cackle even harder until he's practically crying, and the camera's shaking in his hands, but neither of them care - and he knows they're filming, but he just can't help himself, when he finally gulps down enough air to breathe, from saying, "I'm so in love with you."

He isn't scared. He thinks it's the most perfect sentence he's ever said.

Garrett is still snickering as he sets the bag of flour down, next to the bowl that was supposed to contain cookie dough by now. "Really?" he says, and Andrew almost thinks he doesn't believe him until - "You really chose this moment to tell me that you love me, Andrew? When there's so much flour on me that I look like a ghost?"

That just sends Andrew into another fit of laughter, and he can barely even complain when Garrett takes the camera from his hands, switches it off and puts it on the counter behind him. As soon as he's turned around again, Andrew is kissing him, pulling Garrett forward by the front of his shirt and tasting the light dusting of powder on his lips and grinning like a fool.

"Well, I'll have you know, Andrew Siwicki," Garrett starts when they finally pull away, out of breath -

"Yeah?" Andrew interrupts, stealing another kiss.

"- that I'm in love with you, too."

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morgchella💎🦄 9:22pm: So shane and ry are starting to get on me about getting garrett to talk?? morgchella💎🦄 9:23pm: also i heARD U AND GARRETT ARE FINALLY TOGETHER IS IT TRUE

Reply 9:23pm: fuck Reply 9:24pm: has caleb been telling everyone?????

morgchella💎🦄 9:25pm: OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG morgchella💎🦄 9:25pm: OH MY GOD ANDREW AAAAAAAHSDFJLKGSK morgchella💎🦄 9:25pm: CONGATSULATIONS I DUCKING KNEW U GUYS WOULDNT BE ABLE TOVHOLD OUT ANY LONGER

Reply 9:27pm: hahahahahahahahahahaahha omg morgan

morgchella💎🦄 9:27pm: this quarantine was actually a blessing in disguise 😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌 morgchella💎🦄 9:27pm: A global conspiracy just to get the two of u together

Reply 9:27pm: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHSDKJD Reply 9:28pm: morgan omg

morgchella💎🦄 9:28pm: No but fr I am so happy for u guys 🥺🥺🥺

Reply 9:29pm: thank u morgan. ily and that means a lot to me Reply 9:30pm: just please don't go spreading it around hahahahaha we wanna keep it on the dl

morgchella💎🦄 9:33pm: Ok I promise i won't but only if I am invited to your wedding

Reply 9:34pm: oh jesus Reply 9:35pm: ok i still gotta buy the ring tho

morgchella💎🦄 9:40pm: SJAKLSDJGFLKJBDFLKNCVCJLKSJDLFKSGOIXCLKJFHGLFKFHOIJADSKL

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It doesn't take long for them to fuck, and for Andrew to wonder why they ever wasted so much time not having sex when it's so mind-blowingly good - when Andrew's legs are slung over Garrett's shoulders, and he's a moaning, spluttering mess underneath Garrett, and they're both still getting used to touching each other like this and still laughing from time to time, and both of them are so warm and giggly and in love.

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G 🌸🐊⭐💕 2:33am: You're asleep but I just wanted to tell you that I love you G 🌸🐊⭐💕 2:34am: And that you look really pretty sleeping in my arms G 🌸🐊⭐💕 2:34am: And that I can't wait to talk to you soon when we're both awake G 🌸🐊⭐💕 2:34am: That's all :.)

Reply 10:47am: hi. you're still asleep. i love you so ridiculously much. Reply 10:49am: i hope your day is as special as you are, garrett watts 💗💗😊😊🌻🌻

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Andrew is still glowing in the late afternoon after their morning sex. It's hard to believe the state of the world right now when he's with Garrett.

He's wearing one of Garrett's flannels - the greenish-blue one, that he stole and wore on Garrett's last birthday, and is always so discreetly happy to wear out in public - and running his hands through his boyfriend's hair, and he feels so at peace.

That is - until he glances down at Garrett's phone and realizes he's tapping through one of Shane's endless Instagram videos, staring unhappily at the screen with the volume muted.

"Garrett, baby," he says, letting the still-new word roll off his tongue, taking pride in the little smile it brings to Garrett's face. "Have you talked to him recently?"

Garrett shakes his head, and panic pools in Andrew's stomach.

"He's been bugging me a lot lately," Andrew says cautiously, tentatively. "I think he wants closure. Things have been sort of up in the air with you two. For a long time. And -"

"I'm not interested in talking to him."

"Well, it's clearly making you upset to -"

"He's made it clear who he prioritizes in his life."

Andrew exhales sharply, turns away. Stops petting Garrett's hair. The taller of the two notices.

"Is he upsetting you, Andrew?" he asks quietly.

"Not really. I mean," he concedes, "a little bit, yeah, but I'm not... I'll be okay."

"Is he making you anxious?"

Andrew stares at his lap and says nothing.

"Fine, I'll talk to him," Garrett says. "For you. Not for him. To make him stop bothering you."

"Garrett, you don't have to."

"For you, Andrew." He takes Andrew's hand and squeezes it tight.

Andrew shivers, pulls his phone out of his pocket.

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Reply 8:18pm: garrett says he'll talk. u should call him sometime today before he forgets Reply 8:19pm: and please promise me you'll leave us alone after u talk to him

Shane 🐷🐷 8:27pm: I promise. Shane 🐷🐷 8:27pm: I'll call him soon.

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All he remembers is Garrett leaving at four a.m. to take a call from Shane, and him desperately trying to stay awake and wait for him to come back to bed, but -

The next thing he knows, he's squinting as the sun peeks through the blinds and Garrett is crawling under the covers, fully clothed, burying his face in Andrew's chest.

"Jesus," Andrew slurs, still caught in the throes of sleep. His arms reach out automatically to encircle Garrett as he mumbles, "What time is it, Garr?"

"Seven thirty."

"Oh, christ -" He is about to berate Garrett for staying up so late, but then he - he -

Garrett is crying.

And Andrew has never seen him cry before.

"Garrett, honey, I'm so sorry -"

"Please," Garrett says, so quietly that Andrew just barely hears - and Garrett doesn't beg, but - "Please, Andrew, let's not talk about it. Please."

"Okay. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"Can you just..." Garrett trails off, pushes himself further into Andrew's embrace. "Can you just hold me?"

He does. He swears to himself he'll never let go; never forgive himself for letting this happen to Garrett.

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Shane 🐷🐷 7:31am: Hey, can you do me a favor and ask Garrett about J? Shane 🐷🐷 7:36am: please. It's really important.

Shane 🐷🐷 1:45pm: Earth to andrew??

Reply 3:12pm: hey. i'm sorry. garrett had a really rough night.

Shane 🐷🐷 3:13pm: I did too. can you please ask him?

Reply 3:15pm: ask him what about jeffree? Reply 3:15pm: i hope you understand that you and i are not on the best terms rn, shane. Reply 3:16pm: whatever you said made garrett really really upset

Shane 🐷🐷 3:20pm: I need you to ask him if they fucked.

[ Read 3:20pm ]

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"What the fuck, Shane? You can't just fucking text me that and expect -"

"Andrew, please. I can't even explain to you how important this is - you need to ask him -"

"No, you need to tell me what the fuck is going on." He hates that he's yelling at Shane. He hates that he called Shane in the first place. He hates that they're even speaking to each other at all. "Can you explain to me why the hell you've been so adamant about cutting Garrett out of your life for the past six months? Why you haven't so much as breathed in his direction since Ryland's fucking hotel video - why me and Morgan have been the only ones out of all of us to ever text him, or call, or ask him to hang out, and why you and Ryland won't even let him into your house anymore - your fucking best friend - you won't even let me -"

"Andrew?"

He whips around, sees Garrett standing in the doorway of their bedroom, a strange expression on his face.

"Who are you talking to?"

Andrew struggles to breathe. "It's no one, baby, don't worry," he says, the phone still held up to his ear.

"Ask him," Shane urges from the other line, and Andrew grits his teeth.

"Not until you start fucking explaining what's going on," he barks.

"Andrew," Garrett starts again.

"It's nothing, Garrett, I promise. I promise you, I'm taking care of it."

"You're talking to Shane, aren't you?"

"I - no, I'm -"

"Don't lie to me, Andrew," Garrett pleads. "What does he want?"

"I can't, Garr -"

"Ask," Shane says again.

Andrew hangs up on him, lets his phone fall onto the bed.

"What does he want, Andrew?"

Andrew's heart is going to beat out of his chest. Garrett is looking at him with the saddest expression Andrew's ever seen in his life.

"I..." he stutters. Tears are welling in his eyes. He hadn't expected this to hurt so much.

Garrett still just looks at him. Andrew wishes he would cross the room, come and hold him, but he doesn't.

"Garrett," he chokes out, finally; "Garr, did you sleep with Jeffree?"

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Mama 🧡 2:29pm: Hi Baby Boy.  Dad and I are missing you so so so so SOOO much!!!  Quarantine is lonely without you :(  But we hope you and Garr Bear are having fun!!  Please tell Linda I send her ALL my love, and that I hope she's feeding you two boys well.  Make sure you are WASHING YOUR HANDS and not going ANYWHERE unless absolutely necessary!!!!  I am serious!!!!!!  This corona virus is no joke and my heart would just shatter if you or Garr Bear got sick from it. Mama 🧡 2:34pm: And make sure you don't get sick from boredom too!!!!!  Dad is already losing his mind with online work, LOL!  But I'm sure Garrett can keep you entertained while you are stuck together.  You two are such silly, wonderful boys and I know how much you love to make each other laugh.  You are both so good for each other, in ways that I don't think you even see yet.  I know you could not stand to be separated so you must make sure you both are staying safe and healthy. Mama 🧡 2:36pm: Please give Garr Bear all my endless love, and keep him safe!!!!!  Love you so much my darling boy.  Hope we can visit and see you again once this has all blown over!  Love, Mom Siwicki 😊 😊 😊

Reply 4:58pm: hi mama. you have no idea how much i needed to hear that today. garrett and i are doing really well. i hope you and dad and 🐶 are staying very safe and enjoying your time together, too. Reply 4:59pm: i love you so much and i need to call you soon. important news regarding me and garrett that i think you'll be excited to hear. talk soon 🧡🧡

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You could cut the tension in the air between them with a knife.

Garrett stares.

Andrew trembles.

"Who - ?" Garrett starts after a long, terrible silence, and Andrew wants to scream. "Who do you think I am, Andrew?"

"Garrett, please just tell me."

"No, Andrew -"

"Please," Andrew whispers, "please, Garrett, Shane won't leave us alone until you -"

"I said no, Andrew."

"Garrett -"

"No, I mean - no, I didn't sleep with him."

Andrew blinks.

Then he collapses into tears, sitting down on the bed and burying his face in his hands, weeping like he had as a high schooler, after his first ever (albeit meaningless) relationship had ended. He hears rather than sees Garrett rush forward immediately; feels his big, strong arms around him as he sobs into Garrett's chest, letting his hands fall into his lap.

"I'm sorry," he chokes after a few minutes of devastating silence, punctuated only by the miserable sound of his own crying.

"Why are you sorry, Andrew?"

"Because this is happening to you," he mumbles against Garrett's shirt. "Because I don't - I shouldn't be crying right now, I don't have the right to be crying right now."

Garrett gently tilts Andrew's head up so he's looking at him, wiping Andrew's cheeks with the broad pad of his thumb. "It's okay to cry, Andrew," he says softly, and god, does Andrew love him.

"I shouldn't be so upset by this," he tries to interject. "I shouldn't be so jealous of Jeffree -" He breaks off, tasting the salt of his teardrops as they roll down his face, brush against his lips, and he gasps as his old insecurities come to light - and Garrett - sweet, wonderful Garrett - just holds him, because of course he's known, of course he noticed how Andrew failed to laugh when everyone else had at Jeffree's awful flirting - of course Garrett had seen the look on Andrew's face behind the camera, as he struggled to keep his hands steady and tried to block out the stomach-churning sound of Jeffree's simpering voice.

Of course he knows. Because he's Garrett, and he can read Andrew like a book, that's just a given - and they know each other better than they know their own selves.

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andrew💕.m4a

[ PLAY VOICE MEMO? ]

[ ... ]

"Hey.

"I love you.

"You're out on a walk right now. Um... and, well, I thought I'd just, um, try to get my thoughts. On everything. Out. And just kind of talk for a while, because, uh - because I miss you right now, and because you deserve to know what... why Shane needed to know about Jeffree. And. Shane just called me again. And cried a lot. Which was weird. So. I know you don't like to talk to anyone when you go on your walks, which is cute - so I'm recording this instead. Um... sorry, I'm just - moving around on the bed. Uh. There.

"Um - first of all, I just - I just really love you, Andrew. I've been in love with you for a really long time, and I'm just - god, you just make me so damn happy. I can't imagine spending my time with anyone else. I'm so - this whole... thing with us, our relationship, I guess you'd call it - it's so new and fresh, and I have to admit, I'm really scared, but I'm also just so happy and content, and I didn't... I didn't ever think, in, in a million years, that you would love me back. But I'm so grateful that you do. I really am.

"Um. I love you. And. I would never sleep with Jeffree. I hope you know that. Even if I hadn't been in love with you for almost... what is it, three years now? I would've said no to him anyway. He's not... I don't want that kind of life. I don't want to, to have a sugar daddy or whatever he was offering me. I don't want to just be a quick lay. I want... I want you, Andrew. Always been you. Always just... sorry, I - sorry for getting emotional. Um... ugh, god. You're turning me into a mess, Andrew. Uh. I just really love you. And I love what our relationship's been. And I love that - that there isn't that much change, now that we're dating, from what things were like before, and I can still talk to you, and you're still my best friend, and we can still joke around and laugh at nothing and just keep loving each other. I don't want a fuck buddy. I want a - a committed relationship, and someone I know I can spend the rest of my life with - and I know I'm rambling, and I know that this might... might scare you away, because this is so, so new to you, but - I wouldn't say it if I didn't think you felt the same way. Feel the same way.

"What you and I have is... I've been trying to recreate it for years, Andrew, and I've never, ever been able to. No matter how hard I tried - no matter how much I tried to forget - I can't replace you. You're... you're everything to me, Andrew, and I think you always will be. I hope you feel the same. Even if - even if things, yaknow, don't work out, down the line, and we de- we, um, decide we're better off as friends. I can't. I, uh - I can't imagine... oh, god, sorry, Andrew - I- I can't imagine living a life without you in it.

"God. Um. Where was I? God... So, uh - I said no to Jeffree. Is what I think I'm trying to say. He made it really clear what he wanted two years ago, and I said I wasn't interested - and when he approached me again, when he and Shane were filming the second series - that's when things started getting nasty. I - he didn't say anything to my face, he wasn't rude up-front. He's too... manipulative for that. I guess is the word. Um. Because he knew Shane would realize who he really is, if he was mean to me in front of him. So - from what Shane's told me, he sort of just started dropping subtle hints. And Shane just kind of... well, you know. You know how he is. He kind of just let himself get caught up in it. And I stopped getting invited to things. Which is fine. But... I mean, you know.

"I'm not really sure how to feel. Anymore. I miss Shane a lot, but... I don't know. He told me he wants to talk in person after all of this is over and we're back in L.A. I told him I want to, too, but I'm not sure how that talk's gonna go, really. He says he's sorry, and he's realized how badly he fucked up. And I want to forgive him. I really do. But if he keeps hanging around Jeffree, then I'm not sure I'd even want to be spending time with him anymore. He's kind of... changed. A lot.

"So... that's... off my chest. Um. I know that was a lot. I just thought you deserved to know everything. Because. I love you, and. I know how upset you were that Shane wanted to know what happened between me and Jeffree. I know it can't've been easy for you to... relive those memories. On top of everything else that's been going on lately. And I'm really sorry.

"Anyway. Enough of that negative stuff. I love you so much. I'm really excited to see you when you get back, because I'm gonna make you some hot chocolate. With cinnamon. And then we can go cuddle on the couch. Because I love you. And maybe watch movies with my mom. Because she loves us, too.

"Okay. Uhh. I love you so much. I'll talk to you soon. Bye."

[ ... ]

[ Voice memo saved to "Andrew Siwicki's iPhone". ]

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They recover.

They have a lot of sex, and Garrett stops being afraid of holding Andrew's hand in front of his mom, and Andrew breaks his radio silence to post something nonsensical on Instagram that he immediately forgets about.

They go exploring in the woods out behind Linda's house - "looking for cool bugs," Garrett grins - and it's nice enough for Garrett to wear shorts, because he's big and tall and always, always warm - Andrew doesn't understand how he can possibly be so constantly, gloriously warm - and they fuck around between the pine trees and look down the hill and feel just a little bit smaller.

Andrew makes sure he reminds Garrett at least every five minutes of how much he loves him.

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Reply 10:24pm: hey you!

G 🌸🐊⭐💕 10:29pm: Who, me??

Reply 10:29pm: yeah, you. come out of your editing hole. i made pasta Reply 10:30pm: 🐊🍝

G 🌸🐊⭐💕 10:31pm: OMG G 🌸🐊⭐💕 10:32pm: Have I ever told you how in love with you I am?????????

Reply 10:34pm: hahahahahahahaha Reply 10:34pm: ❤︎❤︎❤︎

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"What're you thinking about?"

Andrew pours the milk over his coffee and watches it swirl, spiral, fade and eddy out.

"I'm wondering what's gonna happen after all this," he says. Garrett hands him the silicone tray he's been holding for some time now, and Andrew takes three ice cubes - no, four - and plops them into his drink. "What's gonna happen to us once everything's back to normal."

"Oh," Garrett says. "I think we'll probably just go back to what we usually do."

"Yeah?"

"Mmhmm, I'll text you to hang out every other day or so, and we'll go to Coffee Bean and completely lose track of time, and then we'll end up getting lunch and spending the entire day together. Maybe film some videos, too."

"You think so?"

"Yeah, I do." Garrett stirs his own glass with a straw - the metal one he always steals from Andrew - whipping the grains of sugar around in a little whirlpool at the bottom. "Or you could just... move in with me. If you wanted to."

Andrew nearly spills iced coffee all over the kitchen floor.

"I..." he stutters, his face a dark red. "Garrett. You'd... you'd let me do that? You want to live together?"

"Well, yeah, don't you? I mean, you practically live in my house already, Andrew; it'd just be a matter of getting all your stuff over."

Andrew sets his drink down; smiles up at Garrett; tries to pretend the glossy sheen to his eyes is just a trick of the light. "I'd really like that, Garr," he says, and then Garrett is wrapping his arms around his waist, letting his chin rest atop Andrew's head, and Andrew isn't quite sure exactly what he's done to ever deserve to feel as at peace, as content, as loved as this.

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[ VOICEMAIL from "Mama 🧡" at 5:03pm ]

"Hi, baby, it's Mom. Thank you so much for calling yesterday. I love you so much and I'm so glad to hear you and Garrett are staying safe. I'm so, so proud of you for finally working up the courage to tell him how you feel; that can't've been easy. I've known for a long time that you've been struggling with how you feel about him. I know you so well, Andrew, and God bless you, but you're so easy to read. Can't believe that boy of yours didn't pick up on it sooner - but I told you so, didn't I? Your father and I have always known about you two, ever since you first told us about him... Anyway, stay safe, my love. Don't go outside unless you absolutely have to. And you put a ring on that boy soon, you hear me? I'm so endlessly proud of you. Love you to bits. Talk soon."

[ ... ]

[ DELETE MESSAGE? ]

[ ... ]

[ Message saved. ]

[omgviolette12]

Dark morning, Part 2

An AU Loki fic

Summary:  Lita sourly regretted going to his office. She should’ve stayed home, to work on her manuscript. Then she would head out to the daycare, and watch her cute little son play for a bit. Live in her ignorant bubble. But no, she just had to make him lunch, didn’t she?

Chapters: 2/3

Pairing: Loki/Original Character

Words: 2292

Warning: Angst, Implied/Referenced cheating

A/N :  A sad fic to match the gloomy, rainy weather rn. I love reading heartbreaking shit on occasion, so enjoy this two-shot of depression. Sorry not sorry. Inspired by @voila-tout‘s fic, “Little Do you Know”

---------

The first thing that Loki found alarming was the darkness of the house. Lita should most definitely be home about now. In fact, he knew she was home since her car was parked in the driveway. This puzzled him. The house would usually be filled with a delicious aroma, a warm glow of comfort enveloping the atmosphere. Her singing as she worked to prepare dinner. But silence reigned.

He held his son as he made his way further into the house, flicking the nearest switch to turn on the lights.

“Mmm... where Momma?” Uri fidgeted restlessly in his arms, wanting to be put down.

“Settle down Uri, your mother’s probably sleeping,”

That was the conclusion he drew up in his head, urging his son to return back to sleep with a gentle whisper. He didn’t have to do much urging however, the car ride making him sufficiently drowsy. He carried Uri to his room, placing him carefully into his cradle for a nap.

After that was done, Loki went to look for Lita, heading straight to their bedroom first. He hoped she was actually there, asleep.

Loki opened the door, and he found her immediately.

Her small silhouette sat by the large window under the cover of darkness, the cold air drifting in to ruffle the curtains above her. Since the window was open, her dress was thoroughly drenched because of the rain.

“Lita? Darling….”

He made his way over to her in large strides after turning on the light in the room, stooping beside her. Worry and confusion overtook his face when she did not deign to acknowledge his presence, her face turned stubbornly to look outside as the rain pelted against her face.

“How long have you been sitting here in the dark? Lita? You even neglected to pick up Uri. I did it for you, so you don’t have to worry. But, what happened? Why is the window open?”

“........”

No response.

Loki swallowed, the lump in his throat becoming extremely painful. It was decided. She knew...she most definitely knew. Why else would she be ignoring him so fervently?  But he had to ask, just to be sure.

He sighed, bracing himself for the inevitable outburst.

“Lita, did...did you come by the office today?”

But again, he was met with silence.

He shakily took a hold of her hand, holding it against his lips to kiss it, “Love...please. I know… I know what you probably saw was - was terrible. It was just...meaningless sex, I assure you. I only love you.”

Even with his outright confession, her body moved not an inch. She didn’t even revolt from his touch, or look at him with the disgust that he knew he deserved.

He began to grow frustrated, his expression twisting. He let go of her hand, moving to grab her shoulders full-on to turn her towards him, “ I know you can’t even look at me, but say something! Curse at me, tell me how much of a bastard I am. Hit me, anything! Don’t...don’t run away from me like this...talk to me,”

All he got in response was the patter of the rain against the windowsill.

Although her body now faced him from when he grabbed her shoulders, her head remained turned away.

He got up from his knee, moving to pace the room in frantic steps. He sat down on the bed with a loud thump, hands moving to cover his face.

Why in the world wasn’t she speaking?

She never ignored him before. Even in their most heated arguments, she always sought to speak with him about whatever it was that troubled her. Was his betrayal that shocking?

Tears threatened to overtake his eyes. Deep down...he knew it was.

Loki looked up from his fingers to stare at her, brows furrowed. Her body was like a statue, he could barely even make out a single twitch. Lita was positioned uncomfortably, her neck craned to look away from him, her hand hanging in the air from when he kissed it.

It hit him that something must be seriously wrong at that moment. This was not a mere act of malice.

He went to her once more, attempting to move her head to look at him. He was met with some resistance, but eventually, his eyes met her own. But although she now faced him, it was like she was staring into the void, her face expressionless.

Loki moved her arms up and down, and they would stay in the exact position he posed them in, like a doll. That was all the confirmation he needed to take her to the hospital. Her behavior was too abnormal.

But first, he had to get her warm. She was cold to the touch, which meant she was most likely sitting there, soaked for hours.

He released a shaky, tortured breath. The reason she was like this...it was all his fault.

In the first attempt to try and move her, he looped his arm underneath her legs in order to transition to a princess carry.

Well, it was an attempt. Because moving her was actually much harder than he anticipated. Lita was a small woman, and especially light on her feet. He had absolutely no issues carrying her previously. But it was like all her muscles seized up in a painful way, adding drastically to her weight.

Still, he never gave up. Now that he knew about the stiffness, he tried once more to -

“D…”

He paused, head shooting up to look at her face. It was quiet, so quiet he almost missed it. Was she trying to say something?

Her face was still mostly expressionless, with the exception of her trembling lips. It looked as though it took exceptional effort just to say a letter, so he waited patiently with bated breath, moving closer so he could hear her whispers.

“D….on’t. F….uh...c, in…..”

There was a momentary silence before she started once again, “Tuh...ch...m..me…”

Don’t fucking touch me.

Lita spoke slowly, with plenty of pauses. But her words translated loud and clear, slapping him across the face.

He didn’t know what he expected her to say. His throat constricted painfully, her words hurting much more than he anticipated. But he understood that whatever hurt he felt in that moment didn’t even come close to what she was experiencing.

He swallowed thickly, blinking away the tears that were starting to form against his will, "I..I know. I'm sorry...please allow me to move you away from here, at least. The last thing I want is for you to get sick,"

Loki wanted to honor her wishes. He knew he’d lost any right to touch her, but he couldn’t and wouldn’t leave her there to get soaked by the rain any longer.

He resumed what he was doing, looping an arm underneath her legs, and held her against his chest.

Although Lita’s face was serene, he somehow sensed that she wanted to fight against his touch with everything she had.

Loki did not want to make her more unhappy than she already was, so he hurriedly went to place her on the bed. He covered her with the blankets, tucking her stiff feet underneath the covers, “...I will make some soup, to help warm you up. Uri’s sleeping, but he should be hungry right about now as well.”

He looked at her for a long time after he said those words, his expression sorrowful. If only he hadn’t fallen into temptation…then Lita wouldn’t be like this. He’d get to see the smile he loved so much, and hear her laugh…

Loki turned away sharply, marching from the room. He had to focus.

Although Lita loved to do the cooking, sometimes he would offer to make dinner on days she felt particularly stressed. She loved his chicken soup, so he set off in preparing it.

He worked diligently, so it was finished in about an hour. He went to check on Uri and saw that he was still asleep, then brought the soup over to Lita.

Loki’s heart drummed nervously, sitting on the bed next to her as he held the bowl of soup in his hands.

“I made your favorite soup. No carrots, just the way you would like it.”

She only stared straight ahead. It clicked for him that she couldn’t eat even if she wanted, and he doubted she’d be reticent to spoon-feeding.

He dejectedly placed the bowl on the side table next to the bed, then pulled out his phone “I’m going to call Thor, to help you into the car and watch Uri. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

The one-sided conversation was slowly starting to make him feel sick, so he left the room as he dialed Thor’s number.

“Loki!”

Thor burst through the door loudly, looking absolutely enraged, “Where’s Lita?!”

Thor cared for Lita as if she was his own sister, so to hear the nonsense that Loki spoke over the phone…the anger he felt for her was palpable.

Loki was waiting for him, his expression cold. “Hello, brother.” He was immediately lifted by the collar, Thor bringing his face dangerously close to his, “I have every mind to hit you where you stand, Loki. Just...how could you?”

Loki closed his eyes, his true sorrow masked with indifference. “Then do as you will, Thor. Though I doubt it would change a thing.”

Thor’s eyes nearly glowed red, but he lowered his fist, shrugging Loki away from him, “...Where is she? I’ll take her to the hospital. Watch over Uri instead.”

“No. I am her next of kin, her husband,” he adjusted his collar, looking off to the side as he spoke, “It would be more useful to the doctors if I was there, to answer questions.”

“You have no right to call yourself her husband.” Thor turned sharply, “Take me to her. I’ll help her into the car.”

Thor allowed the tears to flow from his eyes as he saw Lita’s state, moving onto the bed to pull her into an embrace. Her hands laid limp at her sides as he hugged her, “I’m so sorry, Lita. You do not deserve this.”

As Loki requested, Thor carried Lita to the car, placing her in the back seat. He put a blanket on her lap to help keep her warm, then buckled her in. “She’s ready now.”

“...Thank you, Thor.”

Thor only shook his head, his voice laced with disappointment, “Just make sure she’s okay, Loki. I’ll watch the little bean sprout.”

With that, he left Loki to take her to the hospital.

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

Catatonic Depression.

That was what the doctor said, yet he had problems comprehending it.

The doctor had asked him a plethora of questions about her general health, since Lita clearly was unable to answer. The questions then took a strange turn when the woman asked him if she suffered from depression in the past, and started to move Lita's limbs about experimentally.

“Her...sister recently passed, and she would have periods where she would just...stare blankly into space. But, things have never progressed like this before.”  Loki knew that wasn’t the only reason. But he didn’t want to surface his shame.

“And she was only like this when you came home, correct?” Loki simply nodded his head.

“She has most of the symptoms of catatonia, so we’ll have imaging studies done to ensure there isn’t a tumor, or another underlying condition.”

The doctor turned towards him then, “But based on what you said, it’s most probable that she’s suffering from catatonic depression. She’s had history, so this is a likely diagnosis.”

She placed Lita’s arms down back to the bed, writing down notes on her pad, “I will discuss treatment options after the results are in, so I suggest checking her in for a few days.”

Loki’s face paled. Whatever Lita had, it sounded serious, “Cat...Catatonic depression? Forgive me, but I’m clueless as to what that is,”

“It’s a subtype of depression, which means a person may appear speechless or motionless for periods at a time. Hmm...it’s still unclear what causes it, but factors include a history of depression, the passing of a loved one, or any event equally shocking in nature. This isn’t to be taken lightly, as it can hinder her daily life in the future.”

Loki’s entire body felt weak as he sat by her bed, his pallor now a sickly shade. The doctor noticed his distress, and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, “I say this, but it’s very treatable with the correct approach. Lita has a high chance to recover.”

He was no longer listening, his body listless. How couldn’t he have noticed that things were this bad? He ignored all the signs of his wife’s growing sadness, to instead seek pleasures of the flesh. Loki recalled Thor’s words. He had no right to call himself her husband.

In the next few days, he watched over Lita from afar, not wanting to upset her too much with his presence. He wanted her to recover as quickly as possible, so he made his presence scarce. Most of his family visited, however, with Thor bringing Uri in to see his mother.

Slowly but surely, she started to recover. She was placed on medication that proved effective, and she was starting to speak and move again.

He watched from the door window as she slowly ruffled their son’s hair, hugging him to her chest as she spoke to Thor. For the first time in a while, she was smiling.

That smile may never reach his direction ever again...but it made his dark morning a tad brighter.

A/N: I may or may not do a part 3. I have trouble deciding. 

[laws-yellow-submarine]

Hi there! I was wondering if you where willing to writ for Kizaru and his female s/o again? He and his wife are both admirals for the navy and she has been feeling sick for the pass a few weeks now. She hasn't been able to keep food down when she and her husband are eating or get any sleep at night. So she goes to a doctor to see if they can find out what's wrong with her, only to discover that she is pregnant with Kizaru's child. Sorry if this request didn't make any sense! Love your writing!

So uhhh hi 😅 it's been a while, quite a while in fact, and I apologize for that. The concept of this request wasn't difficult, but for some reason every time I sat down to write it, all the words just went away and I'd be totally blank. It's really no excuse for letting it go this long though, so I'm sorry about that. Hopefully Kizaru doesn't come across as too OOC in this; I tried to make him seem sentimental, which is hard given the snippets of personality we're shown in the series, but either way I really hope you enjoy this 💕 and thank you for waiting!

“How are you feeling today?”

She pushed her untouched food around the plate, chewing slowly on her piece of bacon. She’d thrown up again that morning, embarrassingly enough, but she was determined to push through and act like normal. She was an admiral in the Marines; was a tiny flu bug really gonna take her down?

“I’m fine, dear,” She told her husband, swallowing down her bacon. Her stomach gave a lurch and she brought her hand to her mouth. By the way Kizaru’s brow rose over his newspaper, she hadn’t been subtle. “I’m fine,” she insisted. “I’m going to work today, and everything’s gonna be fine.” She took another bite; her stomach lurched again, more violently this time, and she grimaced.

“Take the day off today...Go to the doctor,” Kizaru placed his hand over her shoulder, rubbing comforting circles into her back as she got her stomach under control. She grimaced; she’d already missed enough work due to this sudden illness. Justice doesn’t maintain itself, after all. Her husband was right, though; the sooner she got looked at the sooner she could get back to throwing pirates in the deepest hells of Impel Down. 

Kizaru left shortly after, telling her he’d be unavailable for most of the day, but would be home by dinner. She packed the rest of her food, not wanting to be wasteful despite not being able to finish it right now, and finished getting ready for the day before heading towards the doctor’s office adjacent to the Marines main base.

The wait to see the doctor wasn’t long, and she soon found herself in front of a nurse listing off her symptoms: occasional vomiting, exhausted and yet somehow couldn’t sleep at night, the parts of her that seemed sore and swollen. She didn’t fully understand the nurse’s raised eyebrow, or the grin he seemed to be fighting. He explained the need to run a blood test, and she watched patiently as he drew the red liquid from her arm. The nurse did nothing else, and then it was back to waiting.

The test results took hours, within which time she’d thrown up twice more and napped in the waiting room, but she was finally whisked back to the exam room. This time the doctor himself greeted her; a large smile on his face, but a bit of apprehension in his eyes. Her gut clenched, anxious, and she took a seat once again.

The doctor thanked her for waiting, smile still in place as a way to appear charming. She saw right through him, however, and with a sharp look wiped the smile straight off his face.

“Don’t beat around the bush, Doc, just give it to me straight. What’s the problem?”

“Ahh, y-yes, well, wouldn’t you like to maybe call your husband down here…?” Her eyes narrowed, and the doctor nearly flinched. “O-of course, ma’am, uh, Admiral (Name). Well, it’s good news! Y-you’re not sick, at least not in the traditional sense. Congratulations, you’re pregnant!”

At first she just stared at him, brow raised, eyes blinking in surprise. She was sure she’d misheard him. But then, slowly, the realization set in, and she could’ve smacked herself at how obvious it was. She placed her hands low on her belly, still flat, and tried to fathom the fact that something - her child - was growing inside her. 

“I’d say you’re about 8 weeks along, but we’ll know for sure after your ultrasound which we’ll schedule for next week. I’m going to prescribe you some prenatal vitamins, so make sure you’re taking those everyday, and I know it’ll be difficult given your line of work, but try not to overwork yourself.” She nodded, still too surprised to speak, and after scheduling an ultrasound with the receptionist, she headed next door.

Walking into the base, she dodged white uniforms left and right. Most didn’t even seem to realize who they were nearly walking into, but she’d not dressed in uniform today, and so could hardly blame them. She made her way to where she knew her husband’s office was, right next to her own, and walked in without knocking. Luckily, he was at his desk, giving orders to one of his subordinates, and he only spared her a small glance as he finished up. When the young man had left the room, he turned to her.

“I thought we agreed you would be staying home today,” Kizaru mused, more amused than annoyed with his wife. “What did the doctor say?”

She didn’t answer, instead walking over to where he sat at his desk, sitting on his lap and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He furrowed his brows, concerned about what could possibly have her acting like this at work. Kizaru wrapped his arms around her, anxiety brewing in his gut like it never had before.

“What is it?” 

She pulled back, shocking him with the smile beaming from her face; brighter than anything he could conjure himself, and some of his anxiety soothed. She grabbed his hand, and placed it low on her belly, and before she could even speak understanding began to dawn on him.

“I’m pregnant,” she exclaimed, happy tears pricking the corners of her eyes. A few thousand thoughts flew through Kizaru’s brain, the anxiety creeping back in, until he finally settled on one thought, and his stomach settled.

He was going to be a father.

“Woah!” She yelped, as her husband stood suddenly, holding her close and spinning around in a way she’d only seen him do once; on their wedding day. His eyes crinkled as he smiled at her, placing a kiss on her forehead as he set her back on her feet. All of the worry she’d had earlier melted away as he gazed at her, love clear as day in his eyes for only her to see. Then a thought struck her:

“Do you think an Admiral has ever had to ask for maternity leave before?”

[hookedontaronfics]

Honky Dancer series - Chapter 8

Chapter title: Consequences Read the previous installments here: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3  | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 Rating: M Pairing: Taron x OC Warnings: Trigger warnings for a subtle mentions of an eating disorder and some medical drama A/N: A lot happens in this chapter, and it’s quite dramatic. The chapter bears its name well; you cannot outrun the consequences of your actions, as our beloved Juliette will soon find out. I hope you enjoy this emotional ride! X

Night shoots, I quickly learned, were a special sort of experience. Most of us had tried to nap before the call time, and we were all standing around clutching cups of coffee, full of caffeine and running on adrenaline. The choreography for “Saturday Night’s Alright” required every dancer that was hired, and a cast of extras simply to fill the background too. The amount of crew and the rigging required to give the number an expansive feel also added to the sheer number of people on set at the moment. The volume level was almost too much, with everyone chatting excitedly.

I was standing with my usual group, minus Markus, who was giving me an extremely cold shoulder by not acknowledging my presence at all. I couldn’t blame him, though; I’d told him to never talk to me again, after all. But now that it was the next day and my simmering anger had dulled, and I’d managed to smooth things over with Taron, I wondered if I hadn’t acted out too irrationally. Blame the baby hormones, I thought ruefully to myself.

Being on that carnival set, amongst the twinkling lights and magical atmosphere, made us feel like we were transported somewhere else. And I certainly hoped that effect would come across on film when it was all said and done. My favorite part was the massive Ferris wheel, ablaze with color. I spotted Taron, talking animatedly with Dexter, and when he looked over I gave him a small wave, which he cutely returned.

“Ugh, adorable,” Leah commented, making me smile behind my coffee cup lid as I took another sip. After what felt like a waste of an hour, we were finally called into place. We discarded our coffees and dumped our jackets and bags and went through last-minute costume checks, the costumers nit-picking over the littlest details, adjusting collars here, snipping stray threads there. We had already been walked through some preliminary blocking, but now that the cameras would be turned on, we all wanted things to be as perfect as they could be. The less takes we all had to do for each beat, the better.

Still, that constant ripple of excitement and thrill ran through all of us and kept us going as the nightly hours wore on. Watching Taron in his element really felt like a treat though. How he managed to turn that energy on and maintain his performance level take after take after draining take was mind-boggling, really. And whether he was tired or not, he never showed it, and he stayed positive and kind to everyone around him. But even though the work itself was exhausting, I still loved everything about it. 

The track itself was phenomenal, and Taron’s vocals were strong. I never got tired of listening to it no matter how many takes we did. Giles Martin was a genius, keeping the original integrity of the song but building segments of the different musical influences that Elton had been exposed to and incorporated into his music over the many years, and those flavors had also been used in our dance styles. The choreography was engaging, energetic and exciting, and being a part of this musical number certainly felt like being a part of something much larger than ourselves. The sequence was a crucial part of the storytelling, and needed to feel as youthful and adventurous as Elton’s life was during that time.

I had to admit that I was more than happy when they finally called that night’s filming to a close, as the first creep of dawn was just beginning to tinge the sky. I felt the exhaustion and soreness in every fiber of my body, and blearily changed out of my costume, located my bag in the pile, and wearily made my way off the set and toward the tube station before realizing someone was calling my name. I whirled around, nearly knocking myself off my own feet as I stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk.

“Juliette! Hey, wait up,” Taron said, jogging over to me and sweetly brushing his fingers over my cheek, still somehow not looking exhausted. “Clara’s with her dad and your mum has Troy. Can I just drive you over to my place?” he asked, and I was so tired I didn’t bother arguing, and nodded instead, letting Taron slip his arm around me supportively.

“How are you not completely exhausted?” I grumbled.

“Well, I’m not pregnant, so that helps,” he quipped lightly. “But I’m also just used to it, I think. Not exactly the first night scene I’ve ever been in.”

“I can think of a few,” I smiled. “Bit of a fan of your work, here,” I teased lightly.

“Well you nearly have to be, now that you’re dating me,” he smirked back, and I cracked a smile despite my exhaustion. I sank gratefully down into the plush of the car seat, fighting off falling asleep right then and there. The last thing I needed was Taron taking it upon himself to carry me to bed, as sweet of a gesture as that would be.

“I think today went well,” Taron spoke into our tired silence.

“Really well, at least on our part. It’s always one thing to rehearse a dance. It’s another to see it in the place, in the world so to speak, the lights and colors and costumes. Something about that just made everything feel much more real today,” I replied. “And you… You totally killed it.”

“I don’t know if I killed it, but I wager I gave it everything I had,” he smiled, looking over at me.

“Well, I think, from what I’ve seen, you’re carrying this whole damn thing.”

“I don’t know about that,” he said, running his fingers through his hair in the way he did when he felt humbled by something.

“Well I do,” I smiled, more to myself than anything.

“I am so ready to crash,” he yawned when we finally pulled into the drive and parked. 

“You and me both,” I sighed wearily. We made our way inside, and I realized oddly that I hadn’t been in his home for a fair bit. It felt just as cozy as before as he led me to the bedroom, pulling me to him for a couple of sweet kisses before we both got ready for bed, too tired for anything more. He did his best to try and block the morning sunlight creeping across the floor, able to darken the room a bit, and we curled up together and were sound asleep within minutes, my brain for once too worn out to keep me awake.

The baby, on the other hand, had other ideas, waking me up a few hours later. I stumbled to the bathroom and wretched, hardly anything in my stomach to get rid of. I groaned slightly and splashed water on my face before returning to my slumbering boyfriend. I checked my phone briefly, scrolling through social media mindlessly, waiting for sleep to find me again, but hunger found me first instead.

I got up and, still too exhausted to make anything else, popped some bread in the toaster oven, rapping my fingers on the counter as I waited for it to be ready. I smeared some butter on, then took a few bites, chewing slowly, my hand resting on my belly. But then the part of my brain that worried about calories kicked in, and I found I couldn’t eat another bite. I tossed the rest of the toast in the trash and reminded myself I needed to stay away from carbs as I returned to the bed, not entirely satisfied but at least my stomach had stopped gurgling uncomfortably.

“Mmmm,” Taron murmured next to me, turning over and sliding his arm over my waist and nuzzling into my neck. “Can’t sleep?” He asked, cracking his green eyes open and looking at me.

“I got sick. And then I got hungry,” I smiled, as his eyes drew down to my stomach, his fingers splaying out under my sleep shirt and caressing my skin there sweetly.

“This will be worth it in the end,” he said gently, kissing my forehead. “Try to get some more sleep. Tonight will be difficult if you don’t.” I nodded at that and tried to let him soothe me back to sleep, and I eventually did end up drifting off again.

We woke with enough time to shower, make some dinner, and watch a little telly together before heading to set and doing it all over again. The second night seemed a little easier, but maybe it was just because I knew more of what to expect, the lag between scenes, the flurry of activity, the massive rigs swinging around and being readjusted constantly, the dead space where we had to try and keep our bodies warm, the constant makeup and costume retouches, the attempt to keep our energy up through the slog of what felt like a 14-hour night. We had fun with some bumper cars and there might have been more horsing around than actual dancing during that sequence.

The next two nights felt a little more laid-back, as a bulk of the large group shots were already done. The transitions into and out of the scene, with the bar and with Kit Connor, who played the mid-aged Reggie, were the focus of those days, so I spent more time sitting around than anything else, but that also gave me time to be curious about the behind-the-scenes machinations of putting a movie together. I found it completely fascinating, so different and removed from what I did on the stage when I danced professionally, a completely different set of lingo I didn’t quite understand. What was a grip? A racking focus? A polarizer? I had no idea, but hearing people talk casually about the technical aspects made me feel curious to know more.

Needless to say, I was grateful when night shoots, at least for that sequence, were done. It was kind of saddening to see the carnival get dismantled, but of course it had only been put up for the film and I knew that. I had to return to my own crazy schedule, my daughter and my own students and trying to balance that with further rehearsals for “Bitch is Back” and time with Taron as well, though the next few nights he spent at my home with me. It wasn’t even a conversation we had, he just showed up every evening, joining me in making dinner and helping Clara with her homework and walking Troy and just generally filling a space in my home I hadn’t realized had been empty. Eventually I thought it was high time he had a key, so I made it a point to make a copy and give him one.

“You’re in the special group of people who gets one of these,” I giggled as we cuddled on the couch together, long after Clara had gone to bed.

“Oh?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “And just how many people get a key to my girlfriend’s abode?” he chuckled.

“My mum, of course. Zayn, just in case something came up with Clara. Now you…” I smiled, as Taron flipped the key around in his palm slightly. He seemed a bit reserved about it, but then he’d been a bit reserved the past few nights. I chalked it up to just being knackered from night shoots until he sighed slightly and spoke my name in a hesitant manner.

“Juliette. I really need to ask you something,” he said, his eyes focusing somewhere just above the crown of my head.

“Anything, T,” I replied, even though a cold knot had formed in my stomach.

“Markus pulled me aside the other day and um, he wanted to pass along a few… things.” It was just like Markus to try and fuck everything up for me, even if we weren’t together. Even if I’d thoroughly ended things. Why could nothing in my world stay perfect, ever? I swallowed past the lump in my throat, willing my voice to not shake.

“I’m sure he wasn’t doing so out of the kindness of his heart,” I said coldly.

“Of course I took things with a grain of salt. We haven’t exactly had the best history, Markus and I, all things considered,” he said, finally focusing on my face, but the look of hurt that knitted his brows caught me off guard. “But he told me that you two were still together, that you slept with him again, when you had told me you wanted to be with me. When you were supposed to have broken up with him. And you never told me about that, and your nonadmission might as well have been as good as lying to me,” he continued, his voice cracking slightly.

“I… I’m so sorry,” I tried, my brain still processing what he was saying to me.

“I’ve been wrestling with this for a few days, whether to ask you about it or not. Whether to strike a divide between us or not. I’m forgiving, but relationships have to be founded on trust and communication, neither of which you’ve given to me, and that hurts.”

“I tried to break up with Markus. I tried to tell you that I failed. I felt so...humiliated and… ashamed. Of my history, of my weakness, of this shitty pattern I’ve never been able to get myself out of. I never meant it to hurt you, so I thought I could protect you from… me,” I said, stumbling over the words, unable to keep the tremor out of my voice. “You have to believe that, please.”

“I believe you, it’s just a misguided principle, really. Relationships sometimes hurt. Sometimes you have to be raw, and open, and vulnerable, and ugly in front of the other person, and sometimes that makes them hurt for you, because they love you. I want to accept your flaws, your imperfections, but I can’t do that if you won’t open up to me. I can’t do that if I can’t trust you to be honest with me. I can’t do that if you try to protect me from the difficult, painful bits. I can’t do this, if you won’t extend that to me,” he said into the dead silence of the room. My heart was near pounding out of my chest and I felt the need to get sick.

“What are you saying, Taron? Are you breaking up with me?” I asked softly, tears already threatening in my eyes.

“I just need...some time. To think. To know where I stand. I am hurt, and you’ve got to learn that there are consequences for your actions. But I’m not leaving you, no,” he said as evenly as possible. “I told you I loved you, through the hard times too. I stand by that. I just need you to try and earn my trust back,” he said softly, brushing his fingers lightly over my chin.

“Okay,” I sniffled slightly, feeling the shame burning in my chest.

He leaned over and set the key on the coffee table, the clink of the metal against the wood top making me cringe slightly, before he stood up and turned to me.

“I’ll see you around at the studios. We’re not going to be strangers. But there is this wedge we need to deal with, and I hope you can understand that.”

“I created it,” I said, a couple of tears rolling down my cheeks. But I couldn’t pity myself; I had done this. I had turned Taron away from me, yet again. I had made a muddled mess out of something that should have been good and pure.

“Hey, no need to cry. We will work through this, alright?” he said, tipping my chin up to look at him, but his face was fractured into a thousand tiny pieces through my tears.

“Why would you want to? Why aren’t you pissed off at me?” I asked, pulling away from his touch, his arm returning to his side awkwardly.

“I was, at first. But I try incredibly hard to not act out in anger. It never leads to anything good; it tends to cause more problems than it solves. I also know that even while you had promised to choose me, you really hadn’t, not yet. I wanted to believe I’d be enough to convince you...” he trailed off.

“Fuck, of course you are, T. You’re the best thing that’s ever really happened to me. And I keep trying to ruin it, so maybe you’d be better off without me dragging you down,” I said harshly.

“Stop, stop. I won’t let you talk about yourself that way,” he said, kneeling down in front of where I sat on the sofa, directly into my line of sight again. “Your self-loathing won’t help anything. Please see that.”

“Maybe I’m one person you can’t fix. Maybe no one can,” I said shakily, and Taron sighed deeply.

“I hope this feels better in the morning, but going around in circles on it with you all night won’t help either. I’m going to take my leave, and you should get some sleep, and we’ll figure out how to move forward together. That is, if you still want to.”

I couldn’t give him an answer so the silence between us yawned open until he stood up and placed a soft kiss on my forehead before gathering up his jacket and letting himself out the door. I’m not really sure how long I sat there, staring at nothing, thoughts whirling around my head. Time passed me by unnoticed until Clara padded barefoot into the room.

“Mum?” she asked, and I startled back into reality.

“Yes dear?” I asked, trying to push back the edges of darkness I felt threatening to overcome me.

“I got sick in my bed,” Clara said, starting to cry.

“Oh, honey,” I said, instantly sweeping up off the couch and going to attend to my sick daughter, cleaning the linens and giving her medicine and crashing in my bed with her that night, her feverish little body shivering next to me as I held her tight. At least I had this; I could look at my bright, inquisitive, beautiful daughter and know I had a hand in bringing her up in this world, hopefully teaching her how to avoid the pitfalls I’d fallen into in so many ways. I was grateful she was still young, that boys still had cooties and she was still years from her first kiss, her first love, her first heartbreak.

By the time the morning rolled around, neither Clara nor I had gotten much sleep, as much from Clara’s illness as from my dark thoughts. I called my mum to see if she could watch my sick kid while I went to teach classes and later Rocketman rehearsals, and of course my mum was all-too-kindly available to come over. I tucked Clara in her own bed, glad that her fever had come down overnight, and called school to tell them she wouldn’t be in that day while I waited for my mum to arrive. I made some coffee, desperate for the caffeine boost, and when my mum finally made it across town I blearily stumbled through my day. 

I couldn’t help glaring daggers at Markus’ back during rehearsals every time he wasn’t looking, which was most of the time, but I knew that was petty. It certainly wouldn’t make him apologize for ratting me out to Taron, and it wouldn’t take back what happened between us either.

By the time I got home I was completely exhausted, but Clara was feeling better and I couldn’t just crash out, even if my mum offered. I shook my head, telling her she’d done enough already for me, and sent her home with a thank-you pound note she tried to protest but I slipped into her purse anyway when she wasn’t looking. I ended up tossing a frozen pizza in the oven, but found it difficult to choke down the calories, while Clara didn’t seem to notice how little I ate as she chowed down on her slices. We watched a movie together, and I admittedly might have nodded off a few times, the Disney songs drifting in and out of my dreams.

I was so happy once Clara was tired enough to put to bed; I even skipped a shower just so I could faceplant in my bed that much quicker. I missed Taron’s warmth next to me as I pulled the blankets tightly around me. He promised we’d be okay, but what if he found more reasons to stay away from me in this temporary absence? What if he didn’t really miss me all that much? What if I was the one that was unlovable? I shivered slightly under the covers, the darkness creeping even closer than it had before in my mind, threatening to take over as I sank into a restless, dreamless sleep.

That darkness that resided inside my brain manifested itself in my attempt to control my calories; every little thing I put in my mouth had to be accounted for, and controlling my diet seemed to help me calm my nerves. Even when everything else felt like it was spiraling out of control, this one thing I could have total control over. I had exactly one scrambled egg white and 8 ounces of a protein shake in the morning, a 150-calorie protein bar at lunch, a handful of plain unsalted nuts for a snack to sustain my energy, and usually made some fish and vegetables for dinner. Eating for two was an absolute myth; I was religious about my prenatal vitamins and making sure the growing baby inside me was still getting the crucial building blocks it needed. But overeating wasn’t going to help either of us so I stuck to my routine, obviously varying things up for Clara so she wouldn’t be bored or wrinkle her nose up at my dinners. 

Over the next couple weeks of classes and rehearsals, I started to see an instant change in my arm and leg tone, and that made me at least happier. I had been needing to lose that unnecessary weight for years, and even if I couldn’t stop my belly from getting bigger, I could stop the rest of me from following suit.

As we headed full on into the summer months, the weather grew hot and sticky, as London weather was wont to do. We’d been rehearsing the Broadway musical-style choreography for “Bitch is Back” for a while in the studio, but were finally taking rehearsals outside, into the back lot to do some initial blocking. Taron was of course there, sporting some mockup cardboard wings that looked completely ungainly to manage. But somehow he did, as we danced our way through the piece and Dexter showed Taron and Matthew Illesley, who played the youngest version of Reggie, how the scene would operate.

I could feel the sweat trickling down my back, down my arms and legs, dripping off the edge of my nose. We were all allowed to wear our sunnies since it was a rare bright day in London and we weren’t officially filming yet. But when the production was able to secure the Pinner Street location, we would all need to be ready to go, so putting in this work now was important. They made us take a lot of breaks, providing Gatorade and water in massive jugs to keep us all hydrated, but I was beginning to feel rather sick to my stomach and had to fight through the nausea for the rest of the rehearsal.

Seeing Taron there, being so close to him and yet feeling far away, was painful. He acknowledged me, but it was mostly in a professional manner, and I could feel the difference in my bones. I wanted nothing more than to have him scoop me up in his arms and hold me to him, but that reality had been shattered. There are consequences to your actions, Juliette, the words popping into my brain and making my heart ache. I couldn’t run from those consequences; the only way to move forward was to accept them and move through them.

But how was I going to be able to prove to Taron that he could trust me, when we weren’t even spending time together? What grand gesture could show him how much he meant to me? I wasn’t really sure, and these thoughts hounded me throughout the day.

The next few days were much the same, the temperatures staying sticky hot and making me feel worse for wear. Pregnancy and heat did not go well together, and I found myself taking a few more breaks than everyone else, coming up with some lame excuse as I hadn’t told anyone on set I was pregnant. Only Taron and Markus knew that, and well, we all know who actually did his part to check in with me, concern written all over his face.

But then rehearsals suddenly ground to a halt, and we were left in a strange holding pattern as the production moved onto other scenes, keeping to its schedule and of course keeping Taron very busy. We had a couple short rehearsals to keep the choreography fresh in everyone’s brains, but there wasn’t much else for us to do. I focused more on teaching my classes, texting off and on with Taron when he’d ask how Clara was doing.

<She’s got a recital next week, if you’d like to go. She’d probably like that; she’s been wondering why you haven’t been around as much. I just told her it was because of work.> I responded one evening.

<Of course, I’d love to go. Text me the details and I’ll be there.>

And be there he was, dressed in a sharp navy suit coat, a white shirt underneath, and pressed slacks, looking as handsome as he ever did. Sitting next to him was almost intimidating, stealing glances at each other, sharing awkward smiles with each other as we waited through student after student, some well-practiced, others not so much, waiting for Clara’s turn.

When she got up on the stage, I could hear a bit of an audible gasp from the crowd; my opinionated little girl had chosen to don a sequined, sparkly pink jacket over her recital dress, and she had on a pair of star sunnies too, “just like Elton!” she’d declared when I’d tried to convince her otherwise.

“That’s our Clara,” Taron grinned over at me with a chuckle, before looking down at my hand and slowly taking it in his. I sucked my breath in slightly, still staring straight ahead as Clara took a seat at the piano. “You look beautiful today,” he whispered in my ear, taking in the light summer dress I’d chosen.

“Thank you,” I said, glancing over at him, those dimples of his causing my heart to flutter again. That special thing we had, it wasn’t gone by any means. We sat through my daughter’s songs, Clara gamely making it through Bach and Debussey with only a few stumbles, before getting to play a chosen song. And of course she’d chosen “Your Song,” playing it with gusto to much applause and appreciation from the audience. She gave an enthusiastic bow after her performance and skipped off the stage, returning to us excitedly as we were still clapping for her.

“Lovely job, sweetheart,” I said happily, giving her a huge hug.

“I think Elton himself would be very proud,” Taron added, making Clara grin so big she was showing off her toothless gaps.

“Yeah, if only he’d been able to watch it,” she sighed, making us both laugh.

“He’s a very busy man, but maybe some day you could play for him,” Taron said, as I playfully slapped his arm.

“Don’t promise her that!” I hissed slightly under my breath, but Taron waved it off.

“I’m sure I could get it arranged,” he said, as Clara fairly begged Taron to stay around for dinner. He obliged, and it turned into a really decent evening, the first one I felt I’d had in a bit, even after Clara commented “ewww, fish again?” when I served us dinner. He stayed long enough to tuck my daughter into bed, but said he probably shouldn’t wear out his welcome, though we lingered too long at the doorway, unspoken words and feelings passing between us.

I was actually at the academy when I got the phone call that the Pinner Street location had been secured, and that we’d be needed on set within a few hours. I scrambled to get my afternoon classes covered and made sure mum could pick up Clara from school before heading over to the studios, arriving just in time to get through hair and makeup. We changed into our costumes and were all boarded onto a shuttle and driven across the city, dropped off on a suburban street where crews were already busy setting up rigging for the cameras.

The place was an absolute blur of activity as us dancers huddled in the shade of some trees, trying to stave off the bright sunlight. We used each other to stretch and warm up, a steady hum weaving through the shimmering air as directions were shouted loudly, people running frantically to and fro. I hadn’t imagined this much chaos as the rest of the production had always been incredibly orderly. But I supposed this could happen with locations in the streets; it probably was a pain in the ass to secure city permits to shut entire blocks down for filming. When the city gave you a window of time, you had to spring into action; there would be no dragging feet here.

This sequence, of course, was an important element of the story that brought Taron into the picture as a sort of segue from rehab into his childhood years. It involved the other patients in rehab and the counselor, a brass band, and Taron in a bright orange neoprene Elvis-inspired devil costume with massive wings. The first time I saw him in it I nearly tripped over my own feet. The costume left very little to the imagination, but it was also somehow fitting to the vision of Elton that Dexter and Taron had created for the film. Elton at times played the devil, but he could also be the angel, and in many ways he was neither and both at the same time in his own story.

I loved the energy of this part of filming; the heat, not so much. The makeup crew constantly had to step in and powder us all between takes, and I’m sure our costumes weren’t going to smell very nice by the end of it. The filming day was kept short, as there were heat advisories and the production certainly didn’t want anyone to pass out. The heat sapped the strength right out of my body, and I wondered at how weak I felt as I made my way home, knowing I’d have to fight through the next few days in the same way.

The weakness in my body didn’t really abate the next day, and was joined by more nausea. Even if I didn’t get sick, I still felt turned inside out. I could barely stomach water, but I made myself push it down nonetheless. If my performance suffered for it, no one said a word to me. The third day, the dizziness hit me like a sack of rocks, making me stumble into another dancer and completely ruining the take. I mumbled my apologies and tried to concentrate the best I could. My muscles knew the motions; my brain couldn’t keep anything straight so I tried not to think too much and let my body do the work it knew by memory.

But some things you cannot win against, no matter how hard you fight. Weeks of undereating had caught up to me, leaving me emptied out; spots began to dance across my vision, my skin flushed cold despite the heat, and I found it difficult to breathe. I vaguely thought someone was calling my name, but I couldn’t hear them over the rushing in my ears. The music continued on, but my body did not; I dropped to the ground and stayed there. I don’t remember hitting the pavement, but I came to with my face burning, pressed against the hot surface. I was dimly aware of people gathered around me, and I thought I heard Taron yell at someone to “get these bloody wings off” before bright orange swam into my view.

“Juliette, can you hear me?” he asked as he knelt down beside me, the material of his costume stretching taut over his thighs. I don’t know why my brain focused on that, but I couldn’t move my head enough to look up at his face. The crystals glittered almost painfully bright in the sun as my vision went in and out of focus.

“She’s probably got heat stroke,” one voice said.

“Give her some space,” another added.

“Where’s the fucking medic?” someone else in the throng of voices shouted, my brain picking these out amongst the murmurs.

Did I really look that bad? I wondered, unaware of how crumpled I must have looked. Someone brought over an umbrella and at least shielded me from the sun; someone else tried offering water but I could neither hold the bottle nor swallow when it was poured into my mouth, vomiting onto the pavement instead, a strange thought that I should be embarrassed weaving its way through my brain, too wispy for me to grab onto.

I felt my body being moved as my pupil reaction was checked, my pulse taken, my body fussed over. Words were said that I didn’t understand and then I was being lifted through the air on a stretcher and pushed into the back of an ambulance. I flicked my eyes around at the faces staring down at me, the hands pushing IV lines into my arms, everything blurry and strangely in slow motion. 

And then I felt the sharpest pain in my abdomen, making me cry out. I instinctively tried to curl into a ball but the straps held me down, and I started to feel panic rising in my chest as another sharp pain wracked my body. I clutched at my stomach, gasping out something incoherent; this wasn’t right, and I knew it could only mean something terrible was happening.

“Oh god, the baby,” I heard Taron say, his voice sounding too loud and tinny to my ears, my secret spilled out for everyone within earshot to hear.

What was happening to my baby?, I thought, as more hands poked and prodded me, more needles stuck into my flesh, more words were said I couldn’t make sense of. All I could understand was the shivers that shook me, the pains that tormented me, the blackness that threatened to overtake me. The noise was too loud, the siren, the beeping machines, the medics’ voices, the rattling of wheels over roads as we sped toward the hospital, the hush of the cast and crew we left in our wake, growing in a cascading crescendo inside my brain until, mercifully, there was silence. 

I began to float into the void, the absence of noise, of feeling, of the physical realm, detached from what was happening to my body. The darkness came up to meet me, soothing me, warming me, easing me into slumber, the medicine working through my veins, easing the fire in my body. And then everything, everywhere, went black, and I was gone.

This is not the end of the story. Read Chapter 9 HERE.

[dontdietwd]

Day 310, part 1

Michonne hadn’t been there when we returned that night with the young ones. They were scared and awed at the same time, and everyone at the Village received them really well. Miranda checked their wounds and scratches, they showered, had dinner and slept with the Morales’ for the first night. In the end, when they fell asleep from exhaustion, they were both more relaxed and Emma had even spoken a little. It was going to be good for them to have a real place and people around.

Michonne hadn’t come back on the next day either, and the day was passing and she wasn’t returning. Over 24 hours gone made us all worried. At that point we had already found working radios that could cover a good range for communication, but she wasn’t answering on the channel we all were in. She was probably just out of range, travelled a bit farther, but as the hours passed I got more and more anxious about it, my wrist aching and my heart tight. I always preferred when someone went on runs with her, being alone was not good.

I decided not to allow it anymore. Nobody was to go out alone, at all, ever, that was final.

But for now she was out there, the radio was silent, and time was passing.

I sent Merle out to look for her instead of going myself because there was work to be done at the Village, and I trusted Merle’s tracking and fighting skills. If someone could find and bring Michonne back, it was Merle. So he left and I stayed working with Morales on the wall – I was learning well how to set the bricks with cement – and I got David working with us as Miranda worked on comforting Emma – poor thing, she was jumpy and anxious all the time, even after a good night of sleep. Miranda and Emma were cleaning a house together where the girl and her brother would live. Honey liked her and I thought maybe she could be good company for her. As I worked, my mind was constantly out there, with Michonne and Merle. We had Mikki in the platform, Andrea rounding, and it was all alright.

But my mind was out there with my friends, picturing every little thing that could have gone wrong, every horrible way they could have been hurt, every terrible person they could have found on their way. And if I kept on with it I would go insane.

I needed to do something. Everything in the Village was fine as I walked along Circle Street and turned the corner to Main Street. I saw Mikki coming out of her house to cross the street towards the office. Her hair had changed since I knew her, looking more blonde now, contrasting prettily with her tanned skin. So I jogged to meet her before she could enter the house.

“Mikki!” I called her and she stopped to look at me and smiled. “Odd question! Could you help me with my hair?”

“Oh, honey,” she said tenderly and reached for my head. “What hair?”

I laughed, “It ain’t that short anymore! It’s what, two inches now?”

“If that. What do you wanna do –” and she stopped abruptly, widened her eyes and was suddenly really excited. “Oh, I know what we can do!!”

She grabbed my hand and pulled me to the next house, Merle’s. She entered with no ceremony, like she knew the place well. That got me thinking, but I didn’t ask. She dragged me straight to the bathroom – exactly where I had shaved my head the first time – and found the machine inside a drawer.

“You’re shaving me again?” I asked her

“Yes! Not all, though. Just trust me, you’ll look great!”

Eager, she dragged me away again, now to her house. Ma was napping on the couch, so we crossed the house silently and entered the bathroom. This house was larger than mine, more spacious, as we both fit well in the small space. So Mikki looked, and looked, and measured, and drew lines with the handle of a comb, and then started shaving the sides, leaving the top and back of my hair untouched.

And she was right, after she styled the longer part to stand up with hair gel, I did look awesome.

It was still the middle of the afternoon, tough, so I tackled the deep cleaning of my house that I’d been intending to do for a few days already. I had some detergent and bleach and they did a great job. I hand washed all the bed sheets, swept and mopped the floors, cleaned the inside of the fridge – thank the gods for the solar power we’d been able to get running. My fridge was small and didn’t spend a lot, so I still had enough energy for one warm shower a day and to have lights on at night. I washed the sink and kitchen floor with bleach, took the couch and mattress outside to take some sun, cleaned every surface of the house.

I was sweaty and stinky but I still decided to do a little makeover on the outside of the house. I walked around the Village looking at the other houses and chose a few path stones there were in front of one of them. They were large and heavy, so I took the car there and loaded them on the back, one by one, and drove then back to my place to lay them, making a path to connect the sidewalk to the porch steps. Then I swept it all from any dirt, and ended up sweeping the sidewalk too. One thing led to another and I ended up with a can of white paint that Morales’ had stocked and painting the rails of my porch.

I did it all to keep my mind busy and it worked damn well, because it was dark already when I stopped, deciding to give the paint a second hand tomorrow. I went to the sidewalk and looked over the house, the light on the porch on, couch and mattress back in. It was a nice house, real small with just a living room joined with dining room, a small kitchen, bathroom and one bedroom. It was enough and more than that, it was awesome. It was mine, the first time in my life that I had a house that was nobody else’s, and that was home.

I just needed Daryl there with me now. We could be happy in this house.

The radio on the back of my waist came to life then, startling me but in a really good way.

“Sam, you’re there?”

I nearly dropped it in the hurry to answer, “Michonne?! You okay?”

“I’m fine!” her voice told me.

Fuck, that was a relief!

“Is Merle there?”

“Yes, he found me,” and before I could ask what had happened and whey they’d be coming home, Merle’s voice came over Michonne’s. I could see him grabbing the radio from her hands unceremoniously.

“How ya doing, Sammy girl?”

I laughed. Shit, thank God!

“Don’t call me Sammy!” I answered exactly what Merle was expecting to hear. “Where are you? You coming home?”

I waited for an answer but the radio was silent for a while. Too long.

“Michonne?”

A few more seconds passed before she answered. Shit, don’t do that to a person!

“We’ll be back at first light tomorrow. Too dark already.”

Right. No wandering around at night, I had decided that. Nobody was to be out of the Village at night even if they had to sleep somewhere else in order to only be out of any safe place during the day. I wanted them back home, but I’d made the rule for a reason.

“Are you safe? Gonna be safe until morning?”

“We’re safe, don’t worry.”

“Good. Good, okay. Thank you for reaching out, I was worried sick here.”

“I know you were,” she told me and I could hear she had a smile at that. “How are things there?”

“All in order. Found two kids in the woods and brought them home yesterday. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. Please, no delays in the morning, okay?”

“You got it. We’ll see you soon. Good night!”

“Night,” and I added knowing Merle was by her. “Night, asshole!”

There was no answer but I could hear Merle’s laugh in my head. I laughed shaking my head, relief flooding me. They were fine.

I made one more round in the Village, spoke to everyone, checked again on the nights shifts and went back home. I tried turning on the little stereo that had been in the house but apparently the battered had finally died and it didn’t work. I remembered there were other ones on the stock house but I didn’t bother going there to get them now. I just took off my boots, sat on the couch, closing my eyes and breathing out, and then lit up a joint and smoked a little of it. Only two or three lungful’s, just to relax. I couldn’t smoke too much today because I had to be up in the middle of the night for my round shift. Already light on my feet, I moved to the kitchen, prepared myself some dinner – I had leftovers from yesterday’s canned meatballs – and after eating I took a quick, hot shower and went to bed.

I didn’t know, when I woke up just a few hours later, that my life was about to take a whole turn once again.

 * * *

 Merle wasn’t there but his schedule was followed normally. In the last three hours of the night, Mikki was on the gate platform keeping guard and I was in my post, circling the inner walls of the Village, Honey loyally following my every step. It was a calm night like all and the day was starting to show its face, the sky palling gradually and all the birds around starting to sing.

I was up on a tree on the back of the Village looking out to the woods over the hedge with binoculars. All quiet, nothing more than one walker with a long white dress wandering blindly far from there. Damn, that was a bride…

Mikki’s voice on the radio cut the silence, “Sam, do you hear me?”

I took it from my waist band, letting the binoculars hang, “Clearly, what’s up?”

“I see cars coming down the road towards us, bit slow.”

“Pro’ly Merle and Michonne coming back,” I told her.

“Nope,” she said with certainty. “Not their cars.”

“I’m on my way.”

I let myself fall from the branch to the ground and made my way walking fast nearly in a sprint around the lake towards Main Street. Just as I entered it, the radio came alive once again.

“Sam, quick, they’ve stopped!”

I started running, Honey did too, keeping up with me, “You’re armed, right?”

“I am, but they –”

She stopped abruptly.

“Mikki?”

Instead of her voice on the radio, I got Merle’s from somewhere out there, “What’s goin’ on over there?”

“Gonna know in a minute!” I told him and was already halfway up Main Street and now I could see Mikki up the platform, and she seemed fine. Not less worried, I saw David under it, looking up, his rifle already in hand. I heard steps behind me and saw Andrea and Morales, also armed, running up the street, and as I ran past Will and Mikki’s house, Will was coming out as well. I just stopped on the bottom of the platform to cock and arm my crossbow and having it ready before joining Mikki upon the platform and instantly aiming out, before I could even see who or what was out there.

I understood who it was at the same time he also recognized me.

The Governor.

He had an annoying, arrogant smile on his face, but when he saw who I was, when he fixed his eyes on me, it was gone instantly.

“You,” he said simply.

“Right back at ya, asshole,” I had no fucking ceremonies this time. “The fuck you want?”

He started laughing, his assault rifle in hand still pointing up. His man behind him, though, had them all pointed right at Mikki and I.

“Lynn,” the Governor said as he laughed. “Who’d tell? It’s you! I remember you. You’ve killed my men! Massacred them, I’ll give you that. I’ve been looking for you; did you know that?”

“How did you find me?”

“Oh, your little friends told me where to find you.”

Wait a minute. Merle and Michonne hadn’t. I was definitely sure they hadn’t, they’d talked to me yesterday on the radio, Merle had just talked to me. They hadn’t.

“Don’t bullshit me, Gov,” I mocked. “No friend of mine told you where to find me.”

“No? China boy and farm girl are not your friends then?” he laughed and I was frozen, the words still meaningless in my ears.

China boy and farm girl.

China boy and farm girl!

Glenn. Maggie.

Glenn and Maggie!

“D’you have them?” I asked, my insides in turmoil but I kept me exterior firm.

“Oh, so now you do know them,” he said with a smile. “It wasn’t even that hard to get them to say it. Point a gun at the china man’s bloodied head, farm girl will tell you all.”

Glenn and Maggie.

How the fuck did they lead the Governor here? I understand Maggie would tell anyone anything is Glenn’s life was a risk – and damn, Glenn and Maggie!! They were together and nearby; they were all nearby! – but how in the holy fuck did they know where the village was? Fuck, so many questions and the only person who could answer them was the Governor, the motherfucker.

I needed help. I needed everyone who was at home and I needed Merle and Michonne, I needed them all. So I needed time. I lowered my crossbow a little, not aiming for his head anymore, as an attempt to get them to relax a little bit.

“What have you done to them?”

“What do you think, Lynn? Wouldn’t mistreat guests, now, would I? What kind of man you take me for?”

“The kind that attacks smaller communities to take it all and tortures people for information? Am I close?”

He laughed, opening his arms, “You got me!”

I smiled at him. “Let’s talk, Gov. I ain’t willin’ to strike back like I did last time. Maybe we can work something out.”

“You wanna talk?” he stopped and pretended to be considering it.

“I got more than I did back then. More people, even more weapons. If I was trouble for you then, you don’t wanna know what I can do now.”

“You’re threatening me now?”

“Friendly warning. Let’s all put our guns down and I’ll go down there to talk, how does that sound?”

He nodded, mouth turning up and opening his arms, “Sure. Come on down, we’ll talk.”

We’ll talk, my ass.

Nodding, I lowered the crossbow all the way and Mikki and I went down the ladder, and started giving out orders immediately, my voice firm but low so they wouldn’t hear me from the other side of the wall.

Thank god the front wall had been the first one we got done. No bullets would go through it.

“Full load, everyone! Hide behind the cars and shoot the fuck outta them! This man will not talk, he’ll shoot as soon as we open the gate. Shoot to kill. They’ll not take the Village, we’ll fight for it!” and I took the radio and pressed the button, “Miranda, you got Ma and Emma?”

She answered immediately, “I got them!”

“You three stay in there no matter what until one of us go get you!”

“Got it!” she said.

“Michonne, Merle, you get your ass back here RIGHT NOW!”

“On our way already!” Merle said though it. “Fuck’s happenin’ there?”

“He found us. The Governor’s here.”

He took a second to answer and I knew he and Michonne were over there wherever the fuck they were, sharing a worried and angry look.

“Six minutes,” he informed me.

Good, that was quick enough.

I hang the crossbow on my back and took the .12 shotgun what was Will’s before, checked it was full and moved to the gate, everyone already out of sight but ready behind the cars. Looking at Mikki, who had her hands on the gate ready to slide it open, and gestured for her to open it and then to run up the platform. She nodded, her face serious and concentrated, and opened it.

With my back to the wall right on the side of the gate, I peeked out just as there was only a gap. The first shot came right then, hitting the metal of the still sliding gate, sparks flying and making me flinch back inside.

“Fuck! I thought you said we’d talk!” I yelled.

“I changed my mind!” the Governor’s voice came from somewhere outside.

Unlike in the movies when the bad guy and the good guy have a whole conversation before the big action scene, we said nothing else, neither did anyone. My people started shooting as soon as the gate was fully opened, aiming for any parts of bodies from the Governor’s people that could be seen. Mikki was already up in the platform, crouched down to hide behind the wall, shooting and hiding again. Shots came non-stop from the outside, making it hard for me to get an opportunity to look out, aim and shoot. These motherfuckers were trained, much better than we were.

Mental note to get battle training to everyone from now on. With plans and formations and all.

I needed to get out of this corner because he knew that’s where I was and bullets were grazing the corner of the wall too close to me for my likes. Before I could sprint away though, his voice came from the outside again.

“I thought you said you wanted to talk!”

“I lied!”

I took the crossbow from my back and let it fall there near the wall. As much as I loved it, I wouldn’t be much help not and the thing was heavy, I didn’t need anything holding me back. Then I ran away, not entering the line of fire by running behind and around Ma’s house – thank God she was at Miranda’s with her and Emma, no stray bullets would get to them – and returning to the street behind the cars with the others. I knelt on the asphalt and from there I had better chances on seeing and shooting them. I hit one of the men high in the chest, nearly on his neck instead of in the head like I wanted.

Update on my kills: five.

We’d have as least one walker in a few minutes, also all the noise as going to attract others from the area. This had to end as soon as possible. I heard, among the all the shooting, when the door of a car was strongly closed and a motor turned on. They couldn’t be withdrawing, could they?

Looking over the hood, I saw the Governor had a huge truck with some sort of metal grid fortifications on it, and he was accelerating. Caught his eyes then.

He was smiling.

“Get away from the cars!!!” I yelled at the others as loudly as I could. “Now!!”

But I only moved after the instant I saw the others heard me. Morales, Andrea, David and Will ran seeking cover elsewhere but I had no time to see where because looking again I saw the car coming straight at the car I was behind, straight at me.

I jumped to the side of the street, falling on my chest and hands just as he hit the car. Motherfucker destroyed my Hummer but it didn’t matter now, because as I turned to look, the car had flied sideways and it went straight to the office porch. The wood column tumbled and the roof fell on top of the ruined car, the whole small house bending to the side. It was destroyed.

Safe inside the car even after a strong crash, the Governor looked out at me through the window, smiling and opening the door. Still on the ground I reached for my shotgun that had fallen by my side, stretching a bit, but before I could even point at him and cock it, the Governor was out of the car and a golden brown shadow was flying over me towards him.

Honey attacked like I’d never seen her do, viciously, growling and biting his arm. He was screaming, his machine gun falling to the ground, and he fought her. I turned to shoot at others who were approaching to try to help him.

Six. Seven.

I didn’t see him take a pistol from fuck knows where even as he tried to fight Honey away. I just heard the shot and a shriek whimper and Honey fell to the ground. I froze looking at her, who was trying to stand, limping and crying, and there was blood coming from somewhere on her hind.

Now I had it. That was it. Motherfucker wanted to take my Village? I’d kill him for it. But shoot my dog?! I’d fucking torture him!

It was like it was all happening in slow motion. Honey had fallen and I’d looked at her, and rising my shotgun again looked back at the sonofabitch as he pointed his pistol right at me, a satisfied, smug look on his face even as his other arm bled. I lowered my shotgun as I swirled around myself, raising my leg as I went, the motion giving me force to kick the motherfucker’s hand away and send his gun flying away. It hurt his hand, good, and he cradled it as I got nearer and pointed the shotgun right at his head.

“Kneel!” I yelled and he rose his hands. The shooting around us was lessened but not gone, so his men were still around. The Governor was bending his knees a little, looking a bit scared at me but not kneeling as I ordered.

And then his creepy, annoying little smile returned, and felt a barrel of a gun press on the back of my head.

“You kneel,” a male voice said from behind me.

My wrist burned like hell as I held the shotgun, finger on the trigger. “I got a shotgun on your boss forehead, you sure this is a good idea?”

“Drop it!” the man yelled as he pressed it strongly against my head. It was still a bit hot from his probable shooting with it before, and it pushed me a little forward.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck.

Where the fuck were the others? There was still shooting going on, so I don’t think any of them could come to my rescue, and there the hell were Merle and Michonne? It’d been over six minutes hadn’t it?! But was that a car noise? I couldn’t look, but I knew someone was coming. They were here, they’d help.

I’d had to lower the gun but I didn’t want to. But the hot barrel on the back of my head made sure I did. I lowered it and –

And then so many things happened at the same time it got all a mess in my mind. The car I’d head came cross the gate and ran over one of the governor’s man, who flew somewhere out of my sight. I felt the gun on my head move and the man holding it got startled, but it never left. I looked to my side to see it and they were coming out of the car, Merle, Michonne, Rick, Daryl, all guns pointed at us, including the crossbow and –

What?

I saw nothing, all the sounds around me deafened by my pounding heart and ringing ears and I looked, just stared, everything around me in slow motion again. Daryl was coming on our direction, crossbow pointed and long steps, and his eyes found mine.

He was here.

Daryl was here.

My eyes widened and I started, but only just started, to come back to myself and the reality around me. There was a gun pointed to my head but I couldn’t simply not look at Daryl, because this was Daryl and he was here.

It had all happened in probably two seconds. I was being grabbed forcefully, turned to face the others, to face Daryl with the Governor behind me, the gun now in his hand, pointing it at my temple, his arm around my neck. I hadn’t seen it happening. I got distracted, obviously because Daryl was here, how could I not? I raised my hands to hold the Governor’s arm, trying to pull it away from my neck because the feeling of a man around my neck again got to my nerves instantly, but my eyes were still on Daryl, as though if I stared enough I would understand what was happening and what he was doing here.

“Merle?” the Governor asked from behind me and then laughed aloud.

It was only then that I looked around, my eyes leaving Daryl’s to see Rick right there, his Python pointed right at me – of course not at me, but the man had his head hidden well right behind mine – and then Merle, his eyes worried looking at us and Michonne coming a little behind, limping.

Oh, these guys had lots to tell me! I’d want details!

But first I had to get rid of this motherfucker. The other man was by our side and I felt movement behind us, which meant other of Woodbury’s men where there, and then my people we closing in behind the others, behind Daryl.

So it was me between the two groups. Nobody wanted to do anything not to risk him shooting me in the head right in front of them. Oh, no, he wouldn’t. Daryl was right here, finally, after so long he was here in my sight, and I would not just motherfucking die now.

I hadn’t said a word yet and I wouldn’t because if I said anything it would end up being Daryl’s name and now was not the moment.

“Drop it!” Daryl said and I couldn’t believe I was hearing his voice again. It was loud and firm and filled with anger. Oh my Daryl.

I had to think and act fast but any defense movement I knew would point the gun right at the people in front of me even for a milliseconds and he could pull the trigger and end up hitting someone. I couldn’t take the risk.

It felt like it’d been all happening for minutes but it was seconds. The Governor was speaking, threatening but I didn’t register the words because I started panicking a bit when he started walking back, towards the car he’d used to enter the Village. He was going to take me away.

Everyone reacted at that, yelling at him to stop, at his man to drop, but nobody felt safe enough to shoot or he’d shoot me, I knew that’s what they were all feeling.

“Shoot’em!” the Governor yelled from behind my head and at that, chaos spread. I barely saw it, everyone was shooting and looking for cover but I didn’t watch long enough. I squatted a little as I removed one hand from his arm around my neck and raised it strongly above our heads, pushing his armed hand up and away from my head. I failed in grabbing hold of his wrist, though, and that was a mistake. As I grabbed his arm around my neck with my other hand, I tried shoving him backwards with my hips and pulling his forward so he’d roll over me and fall on the ground, but his free hand came down on my head, the butt of the gun hitting me straight in the nose.

I hear the crunchy noise and went blind to everything, my eyes watering instantly and I screamed a round of curses because that hurt like a motherfucker, and then I was being dragged into the car. I kicked and punched and spat all I could but now I was mostly useless. He was again on my back, the worst bear hug I’d ever experienced, and then I was inside with him and two other men were entering even as the bullets flew freely outside, people yelling and cursing. He pressed the gun to my temple again to make me stop fighting and then the car was backing off, bullets grazing it and the thing was probably armored because none came though, not even the windows.

We were outside already and people were running, I was able to look though the back window and I saw, and it broke my heart and filled the little pieces with rage, that Daryl was out, looking at the car sped away on the road, and he ran after us for a while before stopping and running back to the Village.

This was not over. They were all gonna go after me. Daryl was gonna get me.

So I relaxed and stopped struggling against the Governor’s chest, and he let go of me, pushing me away to press my back against the back door, and he faced me.

And he saw me smiling.

“Do you think you have reasons to be smiling about, Lynn?” he asked me, the gun pointed at my chest.

I licked the blood that was rolling down my nose to my lips. “Yeah, I actually do. It’s ‘cause you got no idea. No fuckin’ idea, Gov.”

“No idea of what?” he asked as he breathed hard though his teeth.

“That you’re fuckin’ with the wrong people.”

[thorsstorms]

Abroad Pt. 13

(Chris Hemsworth x Reader)

Summary: Being the Hemsworth Kids’ Nanny, you were vowed to keep it strictly professional for their sake, but do the stolen glances go unnoticed between you both?

Word count: 4k

Warnings: None

A/N: if you want to be tagged, PLEASE SEND AS AN ASK.

Masterlist

“Okay, I’m going to pick you up after school, and don’t forget your lunch is-” She completely ignored him and went straight to a table with a few other kids and picked out her own coloring sheet from the pile in the middle. He watched confused, almost offended that she was so comfortable with this while his palms were sweaty, drawing against his thighs to dry them.

“Hello! I am Mrs. DeCarlo,” she reached for your hand, and then his next, introducing yourselves. “I have a flyer for you both. It’s just a little bit about me, what is going to be going on in the classroom this year, and all my contact information if need be.”

You retrieve the paper from her manicured fingers, glancing over it seeing a small syllabus along with an email and phone number. You handed him the paper while you called one of the boys back over to you, Tristan was the wanderer.

After some convincing from the teacher that she was going to be fine, regardless of his excuses, you left and headed for some breakfast with the boys. The small breakfast place was enough to remind you of one back home.  The classic breakfast bar seating and the cute red leather booths were feeding into your longing. the aroma of the diner was immediatly making you want a stack of pancakes and sweet tea but you knew it would just make you sick.

Breakfast had not been your friend lately, it was a battle you couldn’t win. If you ate, you would throw it up afterwards, and if you didn’t eat, the nausea would still hit with a headache like you were starving yourself. You ordered a bowl of fruit and picked at some oatmeal, but you knew it was coming. Chris noticed your lack of eating but didn’t say anything, just a sorry look hiding behind his mug of coffee. The steaming was just enough to hide his lingering curious stare and a somewhat paled face while you avoided the food you did want. 

“Papa can you always take Indy to school, and can I always go eat breakfast?” Tristan dropped his fork back on his plate so he could talk to him. The moment was just enough to drag his attention to the mans twinned blue eyes looking back at him. You were always so fascinated by the sentences that they compose in their minds. Always able to see their little gears turning but never know what is actually going on up there.

Chris turned his head towards him when he started, watching him speak. “How about everytime I come home, we can get breakfast. Deal?”

“Deal,” he said, turning back to his pancakes. “But, how many times are you coming home for?” Chris was able to decipher what he was trying to say while trying to hide a smirk from his grammar, it was too cute to ignore. 

“Bubba do you remember when I go to work, and I get to fight the monsters?” Tristan nodded as he continued. “Well I only have to fight the monsters for two more years, and then they will be all gone!”

“You have to make them all dead?” Tristan furrowed his eyebrows seeming sceptical.

“Yeah, now you eat your breakfast so you can get big and fight them with me.”

Back home from breakfast, Chris immediately took to the couch in front of the tv and just sat there with the boys asking to play the Wii. After it was turned on you joined him, pulling a blanket from the back of the couch.

“Scoot over,” you asked him, after he took it upon himself to stretch across the couch. A smirk occupied his face when he didn’t move, not one inch.

“Ok you asked for it,” you pulled the blanket around your shoulders and dipped a knee between his legs to bow down. He was now your bed and he wasn’t allowed to complain.

He opened his arms for you to slide into. “You’re not very comfy,” you complained, but it was half-assed. He stayed silent thinking in his own thoughts. He didn't say anything when you picked up one of his hands and drew it up to your hair for him, but instead moved on autopilot knowing what it meant. His fingers dragging across your hair was the melting point of your own will. He didn't need to think about your actions, well, that action at least. 

Into the afternoon, Chris left to go pick her up while the boys were down for a nap, a nap that was getting increasingly harder to maintain. She came in tossing her bag to the floor and talking a million miles an hour about new names you hadn’t heard before, what she did today, how excited she was to go back tomorrow. While you were ecstatic to hear she had a great first day, all it took was one look before she got the gist and picked her bag off the ground where it didn’t belong.

Later that night you got to trail the grocery store by yourself. It may not sound like much, but the silence and calmness of getting to do it alone and not in a rush was almost meditation worthy. Stalking up on lunch things for India, a few items for some yummies that you had pinned, and of course all the basics.

The sound of your ringtone coming from your purse in the basket drew your eyes away from the selection of nausea meds coating the shelves. When you see Bri’s name on screen you almost wanted to mute it and just continue shopping in peace but you knew her too well. She wont stop till you answer or text.

You answered the call and figured you would give her the benefit of the doubt, “Yes?”

“Damn I hope you don’t always answer the phone like that.” You fought the urge to roll your eyes. She says she doesn’t need anything, but she was bored and wanted to see what you were up to. She, of course, likes to get nosey, as always, “So, have you decided to wife him up yet?”

“Bri! Jesus Christ give it a rest would you?” The girl is relentless, she can’t even talk to you lately without needing yes or no answers.

“Yea yea whatever, It’s not like you can have babies for two more years anyway.” Confusion crossed your mind before, oh yeah, she demands you tell her everything, even some super-secret contract details that you guiltily spilled in a moment of weakness about him preparing to leave. Who were you kidding, you can’t hide anything from her. Even though you don’t live together anymore she will prod until there is nothing left to tell, got to love her. Two years till he was able to take a break.

“Well what about you? Actually, I don’t want to know. Just please don’t make me an auntie before he goes to the Major Leagues.” As much as the idea appealed to you, you both knew what Ty’s goals were. A Brewers uniform and nothing less. 

“Well the next draft isn’t until June next year, and even then I would have to wait another year.” You stopped to think about it… that doesn’t make sense. Your math skills were never the best.

“Then just don’t use the same birth control,” you said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “When you go next time just don’t get the bar again.”

“No, you airhead, we just got it again. They last three years.” Excusing the name calling that you were about to return, you corrected her.

“They last four years, Bri.”

“No, (y/n), It’s three,” You stopped your steps in the middle of the shampoo aisle. She continues to tell you off to prove her point. Reminding you how you both got them at the same time from the same doctor when you moved to Gold Coast in the first place. She never slowed, always had to be right. 

You were listening to her rant about how you better have been using rubbers while you stood frozen in the isle, a look of shock and realization tainted your features.

Her rambling about getting it out asap was almost tuned out while you thought to yourself. When was your last cycle?

You couldn’t remember.

“Bri, I think I’m going to be sick.” You replied to her, telling her about how you haven’t been able to eat breakfast lately, the morning when he came home a few days ago. Listening and agreeing, you found yourself wandering back towards the pharmaceuticals.

“Will you come over?” You asked, while eyeing the stupid three boxes in the basket, opting towards the self checkout.

“Yea, I’ll be out the door in five. Just… wait for me.”

After you pulled in the garage you eyed the one bag you brought up front with you. You fiddled with the boxes for a second, deciding on opening them and stuffing the tests in your pants. You hopped out of the car and took the boxes straight to the dumpster before starting to grab a few paper bags to take inside.  At the time it sounded like the best place to keep them till you were by yourself but the immediate uncomfortable poking began.  

Chris met you in the kitchen, grabbing the rest of the bags while you started to put them away quickly. He almost trapped you in the kitchen by pulling a bottle of ketchup from your hands, prompting you with sleeping kids and an empty bed, but you swerved from his hands, yelling back that you would be back down.

You hurriedly climbed the stairs in the most uncomfortable fashion, pulling the tests from your pants and aimlessly looking around for where to hide them safely until Bri gets here. Somewhere out of sight so they can’t taunt you for the next hour. 

You heard the door at the bottom stairs open and you almost jumped out of your skin, quickly shutting the tests underneath the sink in the kitchenette. Standing straight at attention when he emerged from the stairs with an expectant look.

“Uh, Bri is coming,” you said awkwardly, scratching your head. “I wanted to take a shower before she got here.”

“Oh..” He thought about it, taken back as to why she was coming when it was the night before he was leaving. The night he wanted to spend with you. “In the sink?”

You blinked, not understanding the question, “What?”

“Are you taking a shower in the sink? Why are you there if you want a shower.” He looked from the bathroom and back to you leaning against the counter, sensing your weird mood. You took notice of his tone, it got short.

You felt bad for blowing him off. You stepped towards him, trying to get yourself to calm down. You didn’t know anything yet so ruining his mood along with yours was not the plan.

“Will you shower with me?” You asked, wrapping your arms around his waist, planting a small kiss on his chin.

“Hmm. If you insist,” you smiled, reviving his own. “But we are going down stairs because mine is better.”

Bri came into the house to see you scurrying across the living area and past the kitchen in only a white towel and dripping hair. You grabbed her hand and skipped up the stairs with her quickly, feeling nervous all over again.

“Why? What? Where are your clothes? I could have waited! Did you tell him?” She asked.

“No, are you crazy. And by the way, I am pretty sure he is pissed off that you are here,” you dismissed the fact but it didn’t mean that it wasn’t true. “He leaves in the morning and when I told him you were on your way he got moody.”

“Oh he’ll get over it… Where are they?” You pointed to the cabinet under the sink and walked into the room to find clothing. You emerged in leggings and a t-shirt, watching her pull them out. Standing next to her as she pulled them out felt surreal all over again. A wave of panic surging through you at full force from the sight of them.

The feeling of dread came over, flooding behind your eyes, “Bri.” Her name fell like a whine from your throat. A headache was drawing up, one that you knew was self inflicting from the sudden onslaught of anxious thoughts.

You palmed your eyes, taking a second to pull yourself together. Her voice shook you from your own mind. “You are not taking these until you are in the right mind.” She said strictly. “You are not doing this while you are upset. So go ahead,” she motioned towards you. “Get it out now.” She wrapped her hand around your arm and pulled you to the couch, grabbing the plastic sticks of death with her.

You sat across her trying to keep the floodgates under control, so you didn’t say anything at first. “(Y/n) I’m serious, or I’m going to call him up here.”

“Bri I can’t,” your voice was unreliable, “I can’t do this right now. This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen.” You shielded your eyes from her, worried she wouldn’t have the mercy you wanted at the moment. She didn’t say anything, but you felt her wrap her arms around you, tugging you to her.

“I’m not- I can’t do it by myself,” you mumbled into her shoulder taking a shuddering breath.

“What do you mean ‘by yourself’?” The softest voice you had ever come from her was more comforting than you thought.

“He. He’s going to be gone for so much time. It’s my fault. I should have known better. I made him sign the contract Bri. I told him to sign it!” You pulled away from her and drew up the tshirt to try and dry your eyes.

You were officially the person who will ruin his routine repeatedly. How could you have not known that they were only effective for three years before their hormone deposits run out? The answer was that you did know, you were told, it was somewhere in the unknown regions of your mind while your decision making decided that it was four and not three.

“No, this isn’t just you, snap out of that. He knew what he was doing when he signed the contract. Just stop.” You stilled, looking away from her. Whatever form of softness that was previously present is gone from the tone she was using. “Don’t drown yourself in pity. If you really are, and these are positive, then you cant be shoving this stuff on your shoulders. So stop that now,” you nodded, still avoiding her direction when you knew she was staring right at you. “Now what else are you gonna cry about?” The deep breath you took flooded your lungs like a small encouraging hug before you continued. 

“I’m so far away from my family. My mom is going to be upset with me. My dad, oh my god my dad.” The calmness you managed to muster for a moment was broken with a shuddering breath. He always wanted the best for you. Someone to be married to that could provide for a family, and protect his family. You are not married. That’s the first check on the list for your dad. Chris cant be with you all the time. There is the second. You were pretty sure the third strike would be the fact that he is divorced and already has children. Why didn’t you think to talk about these things with your parents while you were home? Because this was not in a plan for either of you.

“You are living with him, if your dad expected anything less then he is being unreasonable. And your mom, sure she’ll worry about you doing this so far from her but dont think for a second she won’t be here if you ask. And they know you, they raised you. They know you are more than capable of doing this, if this is even happening. Which we don’t know yet, by the way.” Her words resonated enough for you to fit in another good deep breath, she was right, as always. 

“Okay?” You nodded, wiping your face again.

After a moment to think, you were ready to take them. As ready as one could be. 

A baby.

You having a baby. Why are you crying?

The reasons to get upset are all so external. It was time you think about the baby that could possibly be your own for once. Not someone else’s. It could be your own little person. Your own to raise, to dress, to teach, and to love. Your own little person to raise without the guidance of other adults telling you what to do. The tears were for the thought of filling the little hole in your heart that was reserved for the child you would one day have of your own.

You nodded to yourself. You could this, you can take them. You can bare the thought of carrying a little baby of your own. Maybe it wasn’t so conventional all the way around, but it would work because it would have to work.

“Yeah?” Bri confirmed your mood, ready. She watched you grab them from the couch and walk into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

The bathroom door clicked open, grabbing her attention as you walked out. “I put them on the counter upside down, will you set a timer?” You asked quietly, walking out. She nodded while you sat back down next to her. 

Her eyes held a glossy look with your own. It was selfish of you to throw this on her, to not think of how she was taking this. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for you and you knew it. Your entire lives were spent together, if you were going through the pain, she was going to go through it as well.

You leaned into her for comfort and her hand went to your hair, where she knew you liked it. “This almost doesn’t feel weird for me, if feels like I should be asking you why you haven’t had a child sooner.” You gave her a weird look. “I mean, I know the reason but like, do you know how long you have had baby fever? Since you were like... ten.” You let out a sad laugh in her arms knowing it was true.

“Wow,” she sighed, stopping her hand. “A baby. You and a baby, wow.”

“I know.” You both laid in silence until the timer on her phone went off. The air was still between you both, no one making a move to get up.

“Will you look at them?” You whispered. She agreed while you pushed off of her.

You watched as she grabbed them from the counter and walked back towards you. All three tests were still upside down in her hands as she set them down on the coffee table. You pulled the fluffy blanket off the back of the couch and pulled it over you for some sort of comfort while she sat back down.

“Which should I flip first?” You shrugged at her. You didn’t care, just hoping she would do it already. Your eyes were glued to her hands as she reached for one on the far right. “Ok, I’m gonna do it. But if its positive you have to stay calm okay? If it’s negative you are going down there right now to tell him what just happened.”

“Okay! Just do it! My heart is about to beat out of my chest.” Her fingers reached it and picked it up so she could see it. She stared at it, knowing you were watching her expression.

“Negative.”

It was weird to feel your heart drop. To feel a twinge of sadness flow over your shoulders, down to your chest where you could almost feel the little reserved empty hole in your heart be as hollow as ever.

“It’s-it’s negative? Are you sure?” You took it out of her hands and looked at it. It was negative. There was barely any reading on it at all. “Thats, great. Really. I don’t-”

Your hands fell to your lap. It wasn’t meant to be filled right now. The day will come when it is in your plan, when it is supposed to happen. Drawing your eyes back up to her who was holding both the other ones in her hands. Her brow was tweaked looking between them, back to the one in your own hands.

“What?” You asked. A reminisce of annoyance was sprinkling. It’s not like it was her fault that it was negative.

She moved her hand from her mouth to speak, “They are positive.” She shoved them both into your hands. You flipped them next to each other setting eyes on the prominent stripes on them both. Both of them were positive. You picked up the third in your lap looking at the almost non existent line of its own.

“Maybe it’s wrong. It’s a false positive,” your words stuttered out.

“No! There is no such thing as a false positive, only false negatives.” She grabbed them back admiring them. She was entranced by the tests not noticing your spike in breathing.

“I’m pregnant?” The rhetorical notation flew over her head throwing yes’s at you, repeating the words of affirmation.

~

Chris was down stairs sitting in his bed, ready to send you a passive aggressive text. He wanted you in there with him. To be laying next to him under the blankets like always. With your head sticking out of the top, your hair thrown over the pillow cases.

It had only been maybe half an hour since you hopped out of the shower and ran out and he already missed your presence next to him. The bedroom felt baren without you in it. He didn’t like it.

All it left him with was the faint smell of your favorite body wash that tainted the bedding where you lay night after night, even when he wasn't there for you to feel next to you. 

He erased the words he tried to type out three times. He didn’t want to sound rude, or desperate, or irate. The text box was left empty, shutting his phone off and tossing it onto the bedside table. He had an early morning.

Chris tiptoed up the stairs to your room in the early hours, trying to decipher which lump under the blankets was you and which was Bri. The phone flashlight guided him over a pair of shoes and a pillow thrown on the floor. He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled the blankets back a bit. The motion of the bed moving and the random light was stirring you awake.

The phone was set on the nightstand, the light illuminating the dark room just enough that you could sneak open your eyes without feeling blinded. You pulled the blanket over your head, though it wouldn’t budge with him holding it down.

“Princess,” his hand pushed your hair out of your sleep ridden eyes that weren’t staying open. You hummed in response. “I have to go.” His voice was a whisper in the quiet room. Just barely heard over the sound of the whirring fan in the corner.

You pulled your arms from under the covers lazily reaching for him. He knew it meant for a hug, bending down to brace himself on the mattress while you squeezed him tight. His face tucked in your neck, giving you a small kiss to the soft skin before pulling away and kissing your lips.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips, “even when you blow me off.”

“Im sorry, I love you,” he gave you another squeeze, letting you know he’d call when he landed, before standing up and heading out.

“That was so cute it’s disgusting.” Bri’s tired voice grumbled next to you. You ignored her, settling back under the plush feathery blanket, ready for the moment to be a dreamy haze in the morning. 

“Wait!” She shouted, sitting up in bed. You gasped, knowing what she means by her yelling, throwing the blankets off yourself. You charged out of the room taking the stairs two at a time and throwing open the garage door to see the jeep gone and the door already shut.

“God dammit!” You yelped to yourself.

Why does this kind of shit have to happen to you? 

Four weeks till he would be back. Four weeks till your brother got here with Chaz and his girlfriend. Four weeks you were going to keep this to yourself, between you and Bri only. She is now sworn to secrecy.

You trudged up the stairs, shaking your head at her expectant gaze, answering the question she was asking. You didn’t make it in time.

What did you expect? Him to be ecstatic and leave you with a smile on his face right after you tell him the news? Maybe it was for the best to wait.

~

“I feel like I kind of got the gist over the phone. These are the model bands that I picked out for you.” The soft cloth was littered with different sized bands and several metals. The small clutter of various sized diamonds and a few gems lay still, waiting to be inspected. “These three are a set. Each carry a dainty feel, and together have the most elegant look if you ask me.”

“I like that one too.” Chris’s eyes struggled to keep a gaze long enough on one band, this was a commitment job for his mind that couldn’t pick. He set down the thicker band that was held in his fingertips and reached for her outstretched hand that was sporting the trio. The thin bands were encrusted with the tiniest jewels, enough to catch the eye, but not enough to be obnoxious. “Can the setting be altered if I didn't want the diamond that type of cut?” 

The jeweler marveled at his choice of vocabulary, impressed that he actually took time to look over the catalog she sent with him last time. “Of course.”

“Ok, I think this one will work.”

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[rainbowwritesthings]

Caged Bird

Before they started dating Billy would constantly talk about how he wasn’t going to be trapped by some omega and kid, that he was going to see the world and live life right. Steve ruined that for him. AO3

Steve got home early and looking at the clock guessed he had maybe two hours until Billy got home from work at the auto shop and felt a need to be productive. Cleaning was usually what Steve did when the urge to move around and do something hit so he went around the house.

All the clothes were already put away and their wasn’t enough dirty laundry to warrant washing them. So instead he grabbed a rag and cleaner, intent on wiping down the counters and a few odd scuffs on the walls, he didn’t know where they came from but was determined to get them out. Scrubbing had barely begun when the tense muscles in his back demanded he stop, pressing both hands into the small of his back did little to relieve the cramping found there though.

A small shuffle from within had Steve rubbing his stomach absently, the child had been overly active all day and  had apparently chosen now to settle down. The tense pressure from his back and soreness of his feet, along with the rare occurrence of the baby quieting down, had Steve retreating to the couch for a short break.

After sitting slowly the relieve was immediate and now that he was sitting, fatigue was pulling at him to close his eyes just for a moment. Checking the clock once again he reasoned that after a short nap he would work, he would be awake in time to make dinner before Billy came home.

The smell of beef cooking was what woke Steve and he looked around blearily before his gaze landed on Billy, freshly showered and watching over the stove as he flipped through a magazine. It took a few seconds for Steve to remember why that sight upset him, and when he did he groaned. “Good evening Sleeping Beauty. Have a nice nap?”

The tone was teasing and light but made Steve huff in frustration for sleeping too long. “It was my turn to cook tonight.”

This had Billy look over his shoulder with a grin, “yeah, well you were pretty passed out. Didn’t even wake up when I came in so I figured, might as well cook tonight.”

Steve sat up slowly and noticed a blanket draped over him that was definitely not there when he went to sleep. Billy had turned back to the stove but made sure his voice carried, “you can’t be running yourself ragged at work Stevie, you know what the doc said. Too much stress can lead to early labor.”

Steve rolled his eyes, it could be endearing when Billy went into protective alpha mode that didn’t involve beating someone's face in but it could get old fast.

“I answer the phone at the police station, I’m sitting most of the day unless I need to knock on the Sheriff's door but lately people have started doing that for me. I sleep nine hours every night, when our child isn’t pummeling my organs, take a nap almost every day and Doctor Riccards said I’m downright perfect with my blood work.”

Where Billy was stirring in sauce over the noodles, he smiled widely at the words. Fixing two bowls he set them down at the table and looked over to where Steve was standing in the doorway. Rubbing a hand over his expanded stomach with his hair ruffled after his nap, the sight of his omega looking so perfect had Billy’s inner alpha preening.

Steve sat down at the table with a small grunt as his back twinged, thanking the other man for the food he took a bite of the pasta and realized how hungry he really was. Billy ate his own, slightly smaller portion, and they talked about normal things like work and potential names when Steve felt that something was wrong about this.

Not with the food, it was amazing and Steve had a feeling that if he had cooked that night it wouldn’t have been nearly as good. No it was concerning Billy. Not that the alpha had done anything wrong, quite the opposite in fact, he did anything and everything he could to make Steve more comfortable through the whole pregnancy. If Steve was honest he didn’t know if he could have handled the pregnancy without Billy there by his side, it hadn’t been a smooth pregnancy thus far and it most likely wouldn’t be getting any easier.

After Steve finished his meal Billy collected the dirty dishes and as Steve watched him clean up it occurred to him, this wasn’t a partnership anymore. When they first formed an odd friendship it worked so well because they balanced each other out, after they progressed out of the ‘no strings attached sex’ stage and actually started dating they were still on equal ground.

When they began living together they decided that meals would be split between the two of them, and whoever didn’t cook had to clean. Now though, Steve couldn’t remember the last time he had woken up early enough to cook breakfast and the exhaustion that plagued him had Billy doing most of the chores.

Even sex was something Steve just couldn’t find the energy for in the last few weeks, and although he knew how much Billy loved sex the man hadn’t tried to push the issue. In fact Billy didn’t really push back against anything, grumbled complaints and light teasing were as far as the alpha would go.

Not that Steve wanted a fight or argument, but it felt like Steve had clipped away something important from Billy. The question of what it was exactly he had taken from the alpha plagued Steve through the rest of the night.

Even as Billy held him tightly against his chest while they lay in bed, an act that used to make Steve feel safe and protected but now the omega wondered if Billy had to force himself to do it, the question still lingered.

The answer he found was like a bucket of ice being thrown on him, he had taken away Billy’s independence. Before they started dating Billy would constantly talk about how he wasn’t going to be trapped by some omega and kid, that he was going to see the world and live life right.

Steve ruined that for him, they were mated and owned a house together even though they were both still young. He now realized he had robbed Billy of a life lived to the most and once the baby was born the alpha would forever be tied down. Billy was so determined to be a good father that Steve doubted he would leave them, but as the hours drew on Steve only got deeper in the grave his mind created.

At some point he must have fallen asleep because he woke up to an already dressed Billy gently shaking him, “breakfast is on the table princess, I’m heading out but call me first if anything happens. Love you.”

He finished with a kiss and was almost out of the door when he felt something out of place, this was a typical morning in almost every way but something felt off. Turning back he took note of the pinched expression and dark shadows, Steve wasn’t meeting his eyes and he tensed on instinct.

“Steve?”

It took a moment for Steve to really look at him and Billy was about ready to call in a sick day, “I'm fine. Just didn’t sleep well, go to work.” Billy didn’t move and his eyes were scanning over him intently, so in order to convince the man Steve gave his best reassuring smile.

“Look I have today off and promised Robin to meet her for lunch, she’s determined to be the godmother and I’m pretty sure this is a bribe. After that I’ll probably come back home, sleep for way to long before cooking dinner. You’re still Gus’s favorite worker, if you call out sick every time I feel tired then Louis will try and take that spot.”

Billy didn’t seem sold and Steve knew if he told the man to call in sick that he would instantly, which only made his stomach sick. Billy loved his job and was good at it, Steve wouldn’t let that be another thing he took away from the man.

Standing after laying down for so long was a struggle for Steve that got harder to do as their child grew, soon enough though a hand was offered and he was being pulled to his feet. The same hand rested on Steve’s stomach and Billy smiled when he felt their child move about, Steve leaned up to kiss Billy and give him a final smile.

“It’ll be fine.”

Finally convinced Billy made the omega to call him if anything happened and when Steve heard the car exit their driveway, he let the façade drop. Sitting back on the bed he rubbed his stomach and tried to stifle the tears, if there was a way to make this situation right he needed to find it.

[carrera-ffxiv]

Welcome to Sanctum, Pt. 3 of 3

He couldn’t tell how much time had passed since his fateful encounter with his newfound friends. The friendship was short-lived. He finished washing the blood and dirt from his hands in the restroom and went back to relax on one of his couches after all the digging and dragging he had to manage by his lonesome till the sun came up. A few puffs of a pipe and a small break was what he needed before he continued on his list of chores. Hadriel went about cleaning the broken decor and tossing the table out, sweeping and mopping the floor. He had his share of drinks in between tasks, it was one of the perks to owning a bar or two.

The lock unbolted and the partition was pushed aside as N’syri and Kaede walked into the establishment. “Good morning!” Hadriel greeted, uncharacteristically motivated.

Syri couldn’t help but narrow her eyes.

“You’re here early. I brought Kaede here to… help clean up, teach her a few things, and prep for opening later today. You moved some things around…” N’syri spoke.

“Yep. Felt like it needed a slight face-lift. Too cluttered. Took some things out. I think it looks better.”

“It looks beautiful, sir!” Kaede responded cheerfully, matching his energy.

“Just Hadriel is fine.” he responded.

Syri seemed suspicious of the whole situation and looked about the place, nit-picking everything with a careful and discerning eye. “You have some dirt on your face.”

“Stuffed three barrels with cabbage and red pepper paste real early this morning. Buried them out back to let them ferment. Goes well with a variety of dishes.”

“Oh, you make food here too?” Kaede asked.

“N-” Syri began before Hadriel cut her off. “I’m thinking about it. Nothing too complicated. Just some small dishes we can have ready on-hand to serve customers. Little delicacies.”

Syri knew very well that something was off. She rightfully assumed that he was out burying something else instead but didn’t press any further in the presence of their new employee.

“You look beautiful in that yukata. You look like the very reason men fall in love.” he said with a smirk.

Kaede blushed and smiled. To her, Hadriel was a friendly sort and seemed to make the comment lightheartedly as if to keep her in a cheery mood. “Thank you.”

The late morning seemed to go by quickly for him as he was still exhausted from being up a good portion of the night and toiling into the morning. His attention span was cutting in and out but he tried his best to make his new employee feel welcome, talking to her, and sharing a laugh or two with Syri glaring off from the side wondering what he was up to.

Eventually a couple customers wander in the early afternoon and they decide to let Kaede take the reigns after they had gone over etiquette and the drink menu with her. Finally, Syri had a chance to speak with him alone at the opposite end of the establishment.

“So. What really happened?” she asked in a hushed and solemn voice.

He laughed lightly, “I was really burying some barrels.”

She didn’t skip a beat and followed up, “What was in the barrels? And stop being so cheery, it’s creepy.”

Hadriel was out of energy and decided to drop the facade. “Some old friends came by. Now they’re taking dirt-naps. In barrels.”

“Hadriel… this is serious…”

“So am I. It was a matter of time.”

“I told you we should use pseudonyms. I shouldn’t have left you alone last night after I saw the feather.”

“I’m not hiding. I’m in plain sight and don’t plan on changing that. Besides, part of me thought they assumed I changed names and went off grid. Anyway, it’s all part of the plan, don’t worry.”

“Plan? What plan?” her voice raised a moment causing the guests to look over a moment.

“They’re fools if they come after me with everything I know about them.” he responded in a hushed tone.

“But they just did. Isn’t that exactly why they came here, to silence you?” she mirrored him and lowered her voice again to barely above a whisper.

“Not exactly.” he lit a pipe. “I’ll be back tonight. I’m gonna go take a nap. Don’t be so on edge. Everything’s fine.”

“Fine? Do you think this girl is going to be safe working here now? What about S’mira? Didn’t you ask her to help out? Are you fine with putting them in harm’s way like this?” Syri chastised.

“They wanted me back. Either that or to leave with my eye. They’re not after her. This isn’t one of those fantasy books where the bad guys take hostages to try to get the good guy to give up. There’s no moral high ground between me and the Black Blades. We’re all bad guys. And as far as hostages go, what would stop me from killing them after they kill the hostage? And why would anyone ever give up just because someone is captured? It’s not a good tactic all around. Besides, it’s not how they work.”

“I thought that the eye was just an inherited aspect of your half-Eorzean lineage… why would they want it? You fed me some garbage about hiding it because you were made fun of as a kid.” 

"It’s a mark for those who run the organization… it’s uh… treatment of sorts. An experiment, rather.” he revealed. 

She simply nodded lightly with an irate look in her stare as if to tell him to carry on with the explanation.

“It’s research stolen from Garlemald. An invasive surgical procedure that involves more than I care to explain and a lot of pain to go along with it. Thanks to that, we can see the flow of aether in someone’s body.”

“... doesn’t sound useful against imperial troops… they can’t manipulate aether… isn’t that why your organization was founded? For clandestine missions or fights against Garleans?”

“They can’t manipulate aether, like you said. Doesn’t mean they don’t have aether. They’re living beings and whether they can control it or not it’s intrinsic to life. But the point was- seeing the flow of aether gave us a better edge in a great many aspects. Some have even said that they can tell if a person is lying by reading them. Anyway, there’s only a handful of us with this and it’s kept from even others in the organization, for those few who know what it is, it’s a telltale sign. That’s why I keep it behind this.” he tapped alongside his eyepatch. “Better safe than sorry.”

“Hmn…” Syri paused a moment to take it all in. She glanced over to Kaede who was entertaining their guests, smiling and laughing. Seemingly lost in thought for a while something broke her out of her contemplation. There was something earnest about the girl’s efforts and intentions, yet there was something Syri couldn’t quite put her finger on that bothered her. Something off.

“Well, as for why the Black Blades were founded… they’ve fallen far from their days as avengers and patriots of Doma. Now they’re murderers and criminals running in the shadow as an organized crime family. Getting ‘protection’ fees from the merchants, moving contraband, bribing the authorities, silencing people for money… all the good stuff.”

“Is that part of the reason why you left?” she whispered.

“No. You know the reason. I had people to look for. An untrackable quarry to find. For both our sakes. That man has wronged us both, betrayed our hometown as well as all of Doma. That was the only reason. The council I was on didn’t want to condone or support my personal vendetta. Not good for business. So I left. We were after the same person, it was like the kami were lighting the path forward. Like I said, I don’t pretend to stand on some morality or principle. Those are empty pretences that I can hardly afford.”  

“The girl.” she said, looking at Kaede and spoke hurriedly. “She came here the same day this happened.”

“It wasn’t her. She wasn’t the one who drew them here. And her mother really is sick.”

A cynical look wore about her visage, “And how would you know? You never even made it very far from the bar since you met her.”

He subtly winked at her with his only visible eye. Or was it simply a blink when there was one eye? She could never tell.

“Anyway. Like I told you. Don’t worry, I’ll handle it. I’ll ship the pieces of their friends back and then I’ll meet with a few of my old friends to settle this. For now, I’m going to get some sleep.”

“Mn.” Syri sounded. “Well, I’ll keep an eye here for a while. If I’m not around I’m probably reaching out to some contacts this evening.”

“I told you everything’s fine.”

“You’ll have to excuse me if I don’t categorize you burying three people out back as ‘fine’. I’ll be doing my due diligence regardless. Thank-you-very-much.”

“It’s your choice. You’re just wasting your time.” he said as he got up and casually wave two fingers, “I’ll be back later.”

Hadriel didn’t remember his trip home and practically collapsed in his residence. When his consciousness finally stirred, the moon’s light peeked through the windows in his home. Again, he would slip into a lucid sleep and dream the same dream that always came. 

“I missed you…” His dry voice sounded. 

She laughed lightly, the warmth of her smile filling the air around him as if the sun itself dared to give him a moment of reprieve from the loneliness clutching at his heart. A smile cracked from his lips.

“You missed me? How could you miss me when I’ve been here this whole time?” she responded with the sweetest voice, a soft tone dripping with honey in a sweet and rhythmic manner. She spoke lightheartedly, gazing at him with a beaming smile.

The kind beauty continued, “I didn’t miss you, because you’re always here…” she softly rested a hand on her chest- motioning to her heart, “…but!” she excitedly stated, “You know who did miss you?” she asked excitedly.

“Papa~!” the girl ran to give him a hug. He would reciprocate the tight embrace. The warmth filled his heart for a moment even as dread crept up close behind knowing the dream would be over soon again, “Papa. Don’t do it… please. Don’t go where we can’t follow.” she whispered.

He jolted awake and shot up on his couch. It was later than expected. He shook his head to regain some semblance of his bearings. She was warning him. She knew what he was about to do. But how was this worse than any of the other things he’s done?

Hadriel heaved a sigh as he reached for a kodachi sitting in its stand. He slowly sheaths one after the other and placed them both on his hip. He stepped out into the brisk air as light rain trickled down his hair. He took a moment to listen to the sound of raindrops fill the air all around him. A frosty breath escaped his lips as he took some measure of relief from the rain.

He walked in and noticed everyone had cleared out for the night, save Kaede and one older man sitting by the bar. 

“Welcome to Sanctum.” Kaede sounded in a sing-songy tone. “Oh it’s you Mr. Hadriel. Come have a seat!”

“I told you, just Hadriel is fine.” he said with a smile as he sat at the counter. “I’ll have a-”

“Whiskey, neat.” she said while placing a glass in front of him.

“Noticed that, huh?” he gave a light chuckle.

“It’s late. Let’s close down soon, have one with me.” Hadriel said in a tired voice.

“I haven’t drank whiskey before… but I’m willing to give it a try.” she said in a cheery attitude.

“I’ll pour one for you, lock the door so we don’t have early morning stragglers trying to come in.”

She bowed with a measure of grace and elegance undoubtedly learned from N’syri, a slight bend of the knees as her hand folded across her waist, her head dipping respectfully. She meandered along the bar and furniture over to the door and did as was asked.

“You don’t mind if I stay just a little while longer, do you young man?” a gruff voice sounded. The lighting was dim, just the way Hadriel liked it so it was a tad hard to make out features. He seemed dressed in plain Doman attire, not exactly the typical clientele for the new establishment.

“Of course not. Do me a favor though, look to the corner there just behind the counter, there’s a box of cigars. If you wouldn’t mind grabbing a couple out of there for me?”

“Oh, of course, son.” the man had to reach over a bit and look for the box but succeeded in the task, moving beside Hadriel and holding one out for him. He took both in hand and drew a cutter out of his pocket to snip the ends.

“Other one’s yours of course.” he said, motioning for the man still standing there to take a seat next to him.

“Thank you, thank you. Forgive my forwardness, you seem a bit young to own such a nice place. And a nice place it is!”

“I guess I’m a bit older than I look.” he said with a smirk.

The man takes a look at Hadriel’s drink, paused and then turned his visage back to him. “Drink and a cigar. End of a good day? Celebrating something?”

“Yeah… it’s a bit of a celebration…” he struck a match and the audible sizzle of the burning calmed and its intensity died down. He held it for the old man who appreciated the gesture and lit the expensive-tasting cigar. 

“Thank you.” the man replied.

“You’re welcome. Maybe I look a bit younger than I am. Saved up a lot of money doing a lot of different jobs. Easy to do when you don’t have family to worry about.” he looked over to the man.

“Oh. To each their own, son. It’s clearly worked well for you. What are you celebrating then? Newly opened establishment?”

“No. It’s been a long journey. I finally found what I’m looking for.” he said, lighting his own cigar and sighing. The man paused again.

Kaede smiled and held her drink up. “Making fast friends I see! Cheers, Mr. Hadriel, to friends!”

A solemn look overcame him, almost saddened, and Kaede paused. It seemed like the other two were holding their breath a moment. Both seemed to be waiting for the other to drink before he finally relented, took a few gulps and set the glass down, her mirroring his actions.

 “To family...” he mentioned in a somber tone, his expression was filled with a quiet reflection. “How is your mother, Kaede?”

She was taken aback by the unexpected question.

“Not well…” she replied in a low tone. She fidgeted with her hair and took another sip of her drink.

“Well. She’ll be fine soon enough, I’m sure.” the old man injected himself into the conversation. “She’s just as strong as her daughter after all.”

“Thank you, papa.” Kaede responded.

Hadriel continued to smoke and leaned on the counter.

“I guess I’m sorry I had to ruin your celebration, young man. But… I couldn’t let you kill me.” he placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “Now that you drank that poison, you don’t have much time so I wanted to tell you why.”

“You don’t have to tell me why Futoshi. I know why.” Hadriel responded.

“Well, indulge an old man, would you? I know I deserve what you want to do to me, and there’s been so… so many times I would have welcomed it. But… I have my daughter to look after. I want to give her away one day to a home of her own. My wife is frail and needs me. I can’t abandon them.”

“Selfish desires from a selfish man who betrayed his countrymen for gold.”

“You might not understand, Hadriel, but I did it for my family. I’ve regretted it every day of my life. But I’ve found the resolve to live. Which is why I sent Kaede here to get us to this point. I was hoping tipping off the Black Blades would’ve been the end of it but… I always have a plan B.”

Kaede seemed to turn pale, a level of remorse wore on her expression, “I’m sorry, sir…”

“Yeah. Me too…” he uttered softly before putting the cigar out. He poured another glass for himself and took another sip.

“We’ll see that you a proper burial back home in Yangxia-”

Kaede collapsed on the ground as her mouth foamed. Not long after, convulsions began to take place. Wide-eyed, Futoshi stood with his hands on the counter to look down in horror at what was happening to his daughter. He was in shock and couldn’t feel his hand pinned down to the bar, only noticing it when he couldn’t move to his child. A kodachi had made itself a new home through his palm and the bar counter.

“I had a daughter once. And a wife too. I understand why you did what you did. But you chose this path. How many mothers and daughters lost their lives? And again, during the uprising? Then again, over the years. You took my family. Countless families. Then you ran. Across Doma, across the seas, across Eorzea and back again. An untrackable quarry. You took everything I had.”

“H-how…!?” the man held onto his wrist, fumbling through words as tears streamed down his face, almost whimpering at the fact that he was too helpless to save his daughter. “M-my wife, if we die, she has no one to take care of her!”

Hadriel almost looked saddened by the course of events. “Well. I guess I’m sorry I had to ruin your celebration, old man. But… I couldn’t let you kill me.” he placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “Now that you don’t have much time to live, I wanted to tell you why: As you took my wife and daughter, so... in turn... I take yours.” he spoke grimly, not a hint of solace could be found in his expression.

Hadriel continued in a low tone, speaking almost to himself, “I was afraid of myself. What I would do to you, but you made it so easy to want to kill you. Everyone that was in your regiment, your comrades, your friends... you had none left. I saw to that personally, so... you could only trust your family to something this important. So you sent her to me. The Blades were always keeping an eye out for me. I figured I’d use you to bait them in. Now I get to send them a message.”

Futoshi winced in pain but after hearing Hadriel speak he seemed to have resigned himself, and continued listening. His head dipped as he let regret take a hold of him. Slowly, he let the calm of surrender engulf him. There was no more need to run anymore. He could find solace in that.

“With no one else to rely on you sent the only person you could trust into the maws of the wolf. Your own kin. How selfish of you... of course she would want to help save her father, her family. You were too busy grabbing this…” he motioned to the ashtray, “... to notice I swapped the drinks. She had prepared the drink for me before I even walked in here... you told me you were sorry. I’m not. Not really. I just wish the story had a slightly different ending, is all.”

“Yeah… me too. For what it’s worth, I never meant for your family… for any of this to happen…” he shook his head with a grimace, “Do you… do you think the kami will forgive us for what we’ve done?”

“No.” Hadriel answered, sliding the rest of Kaede’s drink to the man. “Not men like us.” He raised his glass to the man.

He simply smiled and nodded, “No… I suppose not. Not men like us.” A clink echoed in the quiet, cold bar. “Thanks for the drink.”

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Caramel Skin Under A Purple Rain prt 14 full draft

Watching the fireworks with Keith was the perfecting ending to their day. Keith had woken him in a panic over Annla disappearing. Having gone overboard with the spicy food in a bid to beat his husband when it came to vendor food, Lance kept an arm wrapped protectively around his tender stomach as they'd rushed to get ready then headed out to find Annla. All of their initial panic for nothing when they found a dozing Annla in one of the corridors that led to their room in the palace. Crouching down, Keith shook the small princess's shoulder softly. Her black eyes fluttering open as she reached up for Keith to lift her. The scene melted Lance's heart. How could Keith possibly think he'd be a terrible father? He'd been amazing with Annla all day. Lance especially proud of the way he hadn't lost his temper with her over the small things she did wrong, like her jealousy over meeting Coran who'd they'd both been happy to see. Annla was still growing into the person she'd be. The constant onslaught of festival goer emotions and thoughts would have been exhausting for her, in addition to the fact that now Daehra wasn't there to be her constant companion back on their home planet, she was probably feeling lonely and neglected. Sending Daehra a quick message to meet them at the Ferris wheel because they'd found Annla, Lance gathered up the princesses things before following his husband.

  Rendezvousing with Daehra and Lucteal, Annla only roused when she was moved into Lucteal's hold instead. Lucteal was another man who'd make a great father. He hadn't kicked up a fuss over Lance being pregnant, despite how strong his feeling had been for him. He'd also come to accept Keith, despite criticising the fact that Keith was never at the outpost like he should be. That's why he'd expected more from Lucteal over the pregnancy, as despite their mutual "friendship", Lucteal had been feeling that Keith had pretty much abandoned Lance there. Not that Lance's mental state hadn't exactly said pretty much the same thing. Daehra and Lucteal were the only two there for him as withdrawal kicked his arse ten ways to Sunday. He'd been able to spend quality time with Lucteal as they'd both healed on Erathus. Throwing out an invitation to watch the fireworks with the group, Lance wasn't being completely honest. He really wanted to spend the night watching them when Keith. Together the group decided to watch them from the Ferris wheel, what wasn't supposed to be open due to the height and something about health and safety, until Keith slipped the man a wad of GAC, and asked for half a varga up the top. Splitting into two groups, Lance and Keith wound up alone in a passenger car together, the glass becoming mirror like, blocking out the view into the other car where there friends were.

 Alone together, Lance felt like he and his husband were the only people in the world. Drawing Keith down onto the floor of the car, the glass door ensured they wouldn't miss the fireworks when they started, but for now, he had some fireworks of their own in mind. Straddling his husband's lap, Lance ran his hands up Keith's chest, pushing up his husband's shirt to reveal Keith's pale toned chest. He loved Keith's body. He loved the feeling of Keith's warm body soft beneath his hands

"Babe?"

Humming, Lance leaned down to kiss Keith. Rolling his hips suggestively as he deepened the kiss until Keith finally started getting the message. Gripping his hips, Keith tried to roll them, only there wasn't that much space and the kiss broke when Lance knocked his head on the seat

"Fuck! Shit... babe, are you ok?"

 Laughing softly at his husband, Lance couldn't think it was so like them. Sure, it hurt, but he'd barely knocked it before he was laughing

"I'm fine... I'm fine... it's uh, a bit cramped in here"

"What were you thinking? Are you sure you're alright"

Rolling his eyes at Keith, Lance drew him into his hold as he wound up with Keith half in his arms and half squashed against the chair on the other side

"Babe... I was trying to make out with you. I'm already brain damaged, so I don't think there's much left in there to damage"

"I thought you wanted to watch the fireworks"

He did. But after such a great date, and the breaking of the promise to continue what they'd started in the shower, he wanted to spend some time pampering Keith

"Oh, babe... oh, Keith. You're really too sweet and innocent some times. I wanted to make out with you, blow your mind, then cuddle for the fireworks"

His intentions went straight over Keith's pretty little head. His husband nosing against his chest as he looped his leg over Lance's waist, his free arm going under Lance's head. Assuming his cuddly octopus pose, Lance was stuck in Keith's loving hold

"You don't have to blow my mind... you're always blowing my mind. You're some kind of incredible, you know that right?"

"Babe. Your dick. I was going to suck your dick"

  Making a squeaking noise, Keith's head shot up before he started coughing. His husband unappreciative of Lance's laughing. He'd expected some hard blushing and stuttering, not for Keith to choke on his "squeak". Waiting for his husband to recover, the moment was kind of ruined. Lance sliding up off the floor to sit and stare at his own reflection. Regaining control of his breathing, Keith climbed off the floor to sit behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist as he rested his chin on Lance's shoulder

"Sorry...?"

Keith clearly didn't know what to say

"You don't need to say sorry"

"Babe... you have to admit, it was kind of unexpected"

"Was it?"

Keith pulled back, Lance knew he was having the struggles to work things out. His husband's tone dripped with confusion

"Yes? I mean... you said making out?"

"Never mind. It was stupid. I was stupid"

"You're not stupid. I'm allowed to be confused. Where did that come from?"

"What? Me wanting to touch my husband?"

"There's a difference between wanting to suck my dick, and making out. I mean, I'm not going to say no... I'm just confused as to how we got there"

"Because...! Because I wanted to"

  Lance was sure he was about a heartbeat away from dying of shame. Wasn't fooling around what people did in Ferris wheels!? He was no expert on Ferris wheel etiquette, but they were alone. They'd had an amazing day. An amazing nap. He wanted to fool around and have some fun with his husband, instead he'd made a fool of himself. He'd only given Keith one successful blow job that he could think of... where his husband had made come three times that morning...

 "Babe..."

"It doesn't matter"

"Look, you don't need to be embarrassed. Just talk to me, please"

Sighing, Lance let Keith force him to face him. His husband had that stupid worried look on his face, giving him no choice but to talk

"I... I was you know... thinking I wanted to do something nice for you"

His heart couldn't take it. His lap incredibly interesting when compared to Keith's concerned expression

"What? Why do you think you need to do something nice for me? And why a blow job?"

"Because!"

"Because why? I know you don't like giving head"

"That's why! We had an amazing day, Keith. It was nearly perfect. And it was nearly perfect because it was with you. Like the ice creams. You got both flavours. You won those masks and that camel Annla wanted. It was... if I hadn't been sick it would be the most perfect date I could ask for... so I wanted to do something for you. Something only I can do... so I wanted to make you feel good..."

As his stupid eyes filled with stupid tears, Keith gathered him up and into his lap

"You're an idiot. Babe. I'm not with you for the things you do for me. I'm with you because you love me. What you said about your hair clip, that... that made me so fucking happy. I don't care that you're not up to giving head yet. I don't care if you can't ever give me head. I love you. Being with you, that's what I want and need"

"But... we... you made me come so fucking hard this morning... and said you wanted me to you know, ride your face..."

Keith groaned at him

"Did you not think I enjoyed myself because I only came once? Babe, you're fucking hot as hell. I love watching you fall apart when I touch you"

That wasn't solving Lance's issue. Keith was fucking hot when he let himself go. When he wasn't worrying about treating Lance like a glass treasure. He'd told his husband a hundred times he'd tell him if it ever got too much and each time it did, even when simply kissing, Keith would pull back

"Don't you think maybe I want that too? To touch my husband? I want to do the stupid things couple do. I want to be happy with you. To do these stupid things before our babies come... I thought maybe you'd be ok with it... not that I'd be interrogated for wanting to touch you"

"I want to do all that with you too. You know you don't have to try hard to make me happy"

"You were showing off today... I know you were... if I don't have to try so hard, neither do you"

  Raising his hand, Keith scratched the back of his head

"You noticed?"

"Of course I noticed. You're my husband"

"I was... I wanted you to be proud... and I wanted you to see that I haven't gotten sloppy"

"Your show was to what? Teach me you can still kick arse? I would hope so"

"Are you trying to be funny?"

How was he being funny? Keith was skilled. That's why Krolia was working him so hard. It was hardly astrophysics

"Babe, your mother is training you to take over Daibazaal. You're training the next bunch of recruits. The next generation of Blades. You kind of need your skills. Not that I didn't appreciate the show. I was prepared to show you how much I appreciated my big strong husband, and now we're stuck in this loop"

  A long moment passed, then a second. Keith sending a shiver running up his spine as he whispered in his ear

"Hey, Lance. Do you want to fool around in here?"

Arching an eyebrow at Keith, Lance was momentarily struck dumb. The mood wasn't what it was. Keith had basically made him question if he was desirable enough for his husband... and now, now he was getting it. His husband was like a big dumb puppy

"Sure... do you want to try..."

"Babe, is it ok if we try something different..."

Talking over the second half his sentence, Lance tilted his head to scowl at his husband

"Do you not like letting me speak?"

"It's not... but I've got an idea..."

   Sixtynining in a Ferris wheel cart was possible. There was zero pressure on his shoulders or head. Keith didn't care that he was kind of terrible at giving head, hesitant over having not much technique, and stuttering in his performance when Keith's lips slid over his dick. Feeling his own pleasure starting to rise, the gross feeling in his stomach lessened as his body had something else to focus on. No wanting to come first, Lance closed his eyes, letting himself throw himself completely into his task. The pressure on his lips felt weird and kind of gross, but Keith's natural musky scent soothed his panic, his husband's muffled moans spurring him on as he brought Keith to orgasm before finally letting his own roll through him. Keith's warm wet mouth leaving him wondering if it felt as amazing for his husband each time they had sex. Keith had brought up the idea of switching, but Lance had no confidence in being the one doing the fucking. He wasn't even sure he was that great in bed, despite all the love and praise Keith showered him in. Sex between them was becoming a normal thing. He felt proud of himself for not having melted down during their date, and having been able to be "normal" all day for his husband. With minimal clean up, Keith took control as he cleaned the wetness between his thighs with his tongue before insisting on helping Lance pull his pants back on properly. Settling down against the glass wall opposite the door, his husband wrapped his arms around him, kissing at his neck as Lance let him take his weight. While they'd been fooling around the Ferris wheel had finally come to a stop.

  Cuddled into his husband as they watched the glass change back to see through due to dazzling firework show. Lance honestly felt content and very much loved. Keith's fingers finding his as the interlace them, resting them lightly on his tiny belly. His husband was incredible. He knew just how to comfort him, without making a scene over the fact he wouldn't have been able to handle Keith's hand or fingers on his hair. He didn't even have to tell him, it was like Keith had read his mind about his lasting jitters. Though, it was entirely possible Keith was simply being extra careful out of gratitude for not biting his dick off or slitting his throat. Today had been so perfect that he didn't want it to ever end.

      *

Taking an over excited paw to the face, Keith was initially confused as to why he was under attack until there was an excited "yip" followed by their blankets disappearing off their bed. Sleepily stumbling off their bed, he was forced to play an impromptu game of chasey with Kosmo. Lance didn't deserve this. Husband had only fallen asleep a couple of vargas earlier, Keith evicted from the bathroom somewhere around midnight, so when Lance wasn't there at dawn, he'd found his husband still hunched over the toilet without the energy to move. Keith wasn't sure how his husband didn't hate him for the countless hours he'd spent throwing up.

 "Keeeith... cold..."

 Distracted by Lance whimpering as he curled around Keith's pillow, Kosmo looked to his second father. Lunging at his wolf, Keith pulled the blankets from his hold

"Enough. Sit there and reconsider your life actions"

Carrying their blankets back over to their bed, Keith sort of tried to flick them out nice and smooth, before giving up in favour simply making sure Lance was covered. Kissing his husband's cheek, Lance was shaking as if he'd been thrown into an ice bath

"Babe, mum's here. Kosmo stole the blankets"

Mumbling sleepily, Lance scrunched his eyes closed tighter

"Mum?"

Krolia was "mum", but Lance seemed too asleep to tell the difference between "mum" and "mami"

"Krolia. She's got Kosmo with her. He stole the blankets..."

Lance let out a grunt for no apparent reason until he continued his mumbling

"I don't think I can get up"

Oh. Lance had thought he'd moved... He hadn't. Not in the slightest

"Babe, you don't need to"

"'m tired... can I have Kosmo cuddles?"

"You don't want my cuddles?"

"You gotta see your mum... 'm sleep"

Kissing Lance's cheek again, Keith laid himself out beside his husband, tapping the space behind Lance summoning Kosmo up behind him. Placing both paws on Lance's hip, Kosmo yipped happily before yawning and dropping his head down between both paws

"You're "cute", not "sleep""

"Sleep"

"I can stay..."

"No. Go see mum... I sleep"

"Alright. I'll set you an alarm for later, you have to make sure you have something to eat and drink... and you've already fallen back to sleep"

Keith couldn't be mad. Lance was exhausted and beyond adorable as he slept. Stealing himself a kiss, Keith then sat up to gaze sternly at his wolf

"No funny business. No stealing blankets or waking him up. He needs his sleep. No playing games, and no panicking if he vomits"

Kosmo gave him a bored yawn before huffing and closing his eyes. It seemed to him that the dopey animal hadn't missed him at all. Stupid traitor. As long as someone was giving him pats and treats, he'd happily trot off with anyone. Unless it was Lance. He'd formed a deep bond with his second father, so leaving Kosmo with Lance, he knew Kosmo would keep him safe. With the way Kosmo was acting with Lance, Keith wouldn't be surprised if Kosmo could smell Lance's pregnancy. He seemed to pick up Lance's moods without verbal trigger signs.

   Showering and dressing, Keith didn't feel right leaving Lance. While he'd been in the bathroom, Kosmo had smoothly stolen his spot in their bed. Lance curled into him with his head resting on Kosmo's shoulder as they both snored. Grabbing his comms up, he shot a couple of photos of the pair, unable to be angry with either of them. The move was going to be a lot for Lance, especially when they move to being on standby on Daibazaal. His husband was terrible at sitting still, and once on Daibazaal the number of tasks he'd be performing daily would drop to next to nothing, other than the training missions his mother had already organised. Keith intended to fulfil his obligations as "Recruit Trainer", but once Lance's pregnancy progressed past 20 weeks, he'd be stepping down entirely. He had no idea where Lance wanted to live. He had no idea where he wanted to raise their twins. If Lance wanted to stay at the outpost... he wasn't entirely sure he could support it. It was a clear risk to Lance and their children, and between two newborns and an outpost to run, he didn't think they'd be able to give enough commitment to either. It wasn't a conversation he was looking for to having. Lance could be far too stubborn about things. They still needed to have a proper conversation over Lance taking his medication, but on the heels of their date the previous day, he didn't want to bring Lance down back to reality. He wanted his husband to be happy... if he could make Lance happy, then maybe he'd be more open to seeing reason over his medication.

  Triple checking Lance had food and water, Keith nearly doubled back in to their bedroom the moment he stepped out the room. Lance had told him to go, but his heart wasn't in it. He didn't know what to tell his mother. He didn't know what to tell her over Lance, and what would be overstepping. He couldn't mention the pregnancy, nor did he know how to tell her that he felt he'd abandoned Lance by leaving him to continue his life alone. Not at all what he wanted for his marriage. He was completely serious about making things work, but he didn't want to sound as if he was placing all the blame on Lance, when he was just as, if not more, responsible over how things had played out. His personal promise to preserve Lance's happiness instead ended with his husband suicidal and thinking Keith was leaving.

  Trudging from the palace, Keith dragged his feet. The day was just as bright and crisp as the day before. Lazily clouds floated across the clear blue, the sun carrying a little more bite than the previous day, but the refreshing breeze ensured the day wouldn't be too uncomfortably hot. Knowing his mother was already somewhere at the festival, Keith decided not to call ahead. She'd find him easier than he'd find her, provided she wanted him to find him in the first place. If she'd really wanted to, she simply could have called, or asked Coran. Actually, there were many numbers of ways she could have tracked him down, now that he thought of it. Kosmo being easiest. His wolf would have tracked their scents to find his way to their room. All Krolia would have had to do then was hold onto his fur, though, on second thought, he had no idea if teleporting would cause pregnancy complications and that was the last thing he wanted for his mother. She was so happy to be having this baby... She was making a real family with Kolivan... with a baby she wouldn't be leaving behind. Keith's steps faltered, now the thought was in his brain, he could feel his abandonment issues trying to rear their ugly head's. His mother loved him. She loved and she'd had no choice but to leave him and his father behind... but if she'd never left, he... no. No. Nope. He wasn't going to go there. She'd left because she had to. They were reunited, and he was going to be a big brother. That was what he should be focusing on... instead of being jealous of a child that was still yet to be born. A child that would be raised with Krolia's unending love and comforting presence through the highs and lows. He had Lance now. Lance who was the salve to his wounded soul. Lance who's heart he'd broken, and their twins whose first scan he'd missed. I was a failure as a big brother. A failure as a little brother. A failure as a husband. And a failure as a his husband. Shoving his hands deeper into his pockets, Keith's outlook on the day flipped entirely. The sun was obnoxiously bright. The clouds obnoxiously white. The breeze could go fuck it's self. And his pity party was fucking pathetic. Things had never been better for him... so why was he so discontent?

  Finding that people were less likely to approach him if he faked a little "purpose" in his stride, Shay was the first person he found that didn't piss him off in sight. Leaning against the railing of what looked some nerd arena, Keith figured it'd be the polite thing to stop off and say hi. Moving to stand by her, Shay smiled warmly at him

"Good morning, Keith. Enjoying the festival?"

If Shay wasn't noticing his stinking bad mood, than that was a start. He knew the moment his mother set eyes on him

"Yeah. It's bigger than I thought it would be. What's going on here?"

"Pidge and Hunk had a disagreement over coding. They've entered a competition to create a light display"

That sounded boring as hell, and right up their alley... and potentially dangerous

"Do they get to create any display? Or do they have a target?"

"There is a display. Based on last night's fireworks. Did you see them? They were breathtaking"

 Not as breathtaking as Lance. His husband was the most breathtaking thing in existence. Him on his hands and knees... his wet mouth around Keith's taunt dick... the stubborn denial of his own pleasure as his honied lips slid up and down his shaft.

 "Yeah, they weren't bad at all. Lance and I watched them from the Ferris wheel"

Shay shuffled at Lance's name, Keith jumping to the wrong conclusion as his guard flew up

"Is there something wrong with that?"

The defensive tone caused Shay to widen her eyes as she waved her hands

"No! No, not at all. I... uh... I was wondering how he was doing, but I did not wish to overstep"

Oh shit. Shay was nice by nature. Of course she didn't mean anything by it. Plus the last time she saw Lance, Lance had blown up

"Fuck... I'm sorry, Shay. Yeah. He's alright. He ate way too much sugar, so he's still sleeping it off. We spent yesterday with the princess who wed us, as well as Daehra and Lucteal"

"I saw you yesterday, Lance did seem happy"

"Yeah. Yeah, he was. The girl with the blue hair, her name's Annla. She's Daehra and Lucteal's little sister. Her planet was hit hard by the Galra, leaving it pretty much sand and caves. Her coming was a surprise for both of us, but Lance seemed happy enough"

"Hunk wanted to approach you..."

Shay looked to her engagement cuff, playing with the thick band

"Lance isn't mad at Hunk, or anyone really. Maybe Veronica, only because she forced him. He doesn't really want to talk about it"

"He made that much clear. I'm afraid I don't understand what he suffers with"

"He doesn't so much "suffer," as he has a "condition" that causes him to lose control of his body. He's still Lance. The same dork that flew the Blue Lion when you met him"

Shay perked up. She seemed almost hopeful

"It's not a serious condition?"

"Oh... it can be...? It really depends. Seizures leave him exhausted. And it depends on where they happen, Lance could hurt himself depending on how he falls and what he lands on. Kosmo is with him now. He's good at reading Lance"

  Shay deflated, Keith feeling bad as she did. She was trying her hardest to understand what her friend was going through, without pushing or interfering in Lance's life. Not wanting to leave her feeling down, he pushed a smile to his lips and continued

"We have a lot to work out and get through, but he's tough. It doesn't stop him from doing what he wants to do, or prevent him from being the idiot he is. Just treat him like you always do. I know it's weighing on him over him blowing up when you were discussing your wedding plans. He's excited for both you and Hunk"

"Thank you, Keith. I'll talk to Hunk. I know he wishes he and Lance could reclaim the closeness they once shared"

 That would be impossible. Lance was still deeply hurt over being basically abandoned when they were still living on the castle. He might be making the effort, yet Keith was certain that if conversation between them fell into a lull, Lance wouldn't be able to keep trying. He was friends with them, but his walls were high. His trust poorly reconstructed with staples and sticky tape, unable to stand the harsh weather that even the slightest form estrangement would bring. What Lance really needed was prolonged and quality time with his old friends to iron out those fault lines and find a new way to proper and real friendship again. They'd all grown, and like any relationship in life, time and distance caused cracks.

 "It's hard with work. I know Lance would appreciate it... Maybe once he's settled on Daibazaal you could come visit? I could show you around the place"

Shay gave a nod, Keith knowing the words he'd carefully chosen had become a promise rather than an invitation

"That would be nice. I would value his input on the wedding. Hunk insists it's all alright, but I still don't understand your Earth customs"

Keith gave a snort

"No one understands Earth customs. We all fake it, and make it up as we go along. Lance loves parties though, so I'm sure he'll have plenty of ideas. I better get going, Krolia is around here somewhere, and I have no idea where"

"I haven't seen her, but I will let her know you're looking for her if I do. It's was nice talking to you, Keith"

"You too, Shay. I'll see you later"

  Back to wandering almost aimlessly through the crowds of festival goers, each stall he passed reminded of the previous day with Lance. Embracing their old "rivalry" had been fun. His ego didn't even care when his husband kicked his arse. It only made him love Lance even more. Scanning the crowds, he didn't know where to begin looking for a pregnant Galra. Most of the rides his mother wouldn't be able to go on in her condition, which kind of left the stage performances and food. Food was out for Lance. His pregnancy didn't appreciate much of everything when it came to scents, but his mother was further along. Maybe he'd find her there? But what did he say when he did? Still mulling over his dilemma, he nearly jumped out his skin when a soft hand landed on his shoulder. Whirling around, Acxa, Krystaal, Veronica and his mother were standing behind him. Keith blinded momentarily by a bright flash that was followed by Acxa's laughing. Realising he'd been blinded by the flash of a vintage camera, Keith crossed his arms as he tried not to let his upset or annoyance show

"Real mature guys"

"I'm sorry. You were looking so grumpy, I egged Acxa on"

Rolling his eyes at his mother, he was certain Krolia wasn't sorry at all

"Whatever. Where were you? I've been looking for you since Kosmo teleported in and stole my blankets"

  Waving her stick of fairyfloss, his mother ended up pointing at Krystaal. His mother was very clearly pregnant, the swell of her stomach practically a neon sign now that he knew of the pregnancy. He really must have had his heads up in the clouds for not having noticed sooner

"I ran into Krystaal, who at least was polite enough to pretend he was happy to see me. Where's my other son?"

"Lance is still sleeping back in our room. We... uh, had a late night"

Veronica frowned at him, while Krolia laughed. Keith's cheeks reddening as he knew what she was going to say before she did

"I hope you're going easy on him. He has been sick"

"I know how to take care of my husband!"

Snapping at his mother, Krolia's happiness morphed into concern. Great. He'd quiznakked that one up

"Sorry. Like I said, we had a late night. He was so hyped from the carnival it took a while to get to sleep"

She wasn't buying it

"Sorry, I think my idiot son and I need to have a talk. Thanks for the fairy floss Krystaal. And Acxa, don't forget you have the whole movement off. Make sure you spend some quality time with Veronica. I have your next training planet picked already. And you..."

Reaching out, his mother grabbed him by the ear, starting to drag him away from the group

"You have some explaining to do"

  Towed away by his mother, Krolia didn't release her hold until they were a significant distance from the other. His ear smarting from her tight grip. Angrily rubbing the spot, he didn't see what he'd done to warrant that. So much for the recruits respecting him, thought Krystaal was more a friend than simply a new recruit

"Spill"

"Spill what?"

"You. What's with the mood? Did you and Lance fight?"

"Sheesh. No. We're fine"

"Keith. You're not fine. What's going on? I've heard that Lance had a seizure. Is he ok? Is he ok being left alone?"

Why was it always about Lance? Shay wanted to know about Lance. His mother wanted to see Lance more than him. And sure, she'd asked if he was ok, but only because she thought him stressing over his husband

"Lance is fine"

"Well that's ok then. Now what's the mood about? You don't look happy"

"It's nothing. I'm fine"

Shit. He'd been spending too much time with Lance. He sounded just like him

"Keith. I'm your mother. Talk to me"

"It's nothing"

Gazing at him her patented "mum" look, Krolia then proceeded to shove her fairy floss at his mouth until he was forced to open it. Wrinkling his nose at the unwanted influx of dyed sugar, it took all the had to hold his temper as he pulled the stick away rather than slapping it out her hands

"What was that for!?"

"Because you won't talk to me"

"I don't know what I'm supposed to tell you!"

His mother didn't look surprised when he snapped this time. Calmly she tore a length of fairy floss free, leaving her right eyebrow raised until he crumbled

"I don't know what to tell you, but I'm quitting working for you. I know I'm supposed to be training the recruits but I'm sick of it. I'm sick to death of it. Lance isn't fucking fine. He wanted to die, mum. He wanted to die because he thought I didn't love him anymore. You keep sending me on missions and according to Shiro, I have no fucking clue how to look after my husband. I don't. I don't know what I'm doing. He's supposed to take all these pills to help with his seizures. How did you even know he had a seizure? He doesn't want everyone knowing, though it's probably too late for that if you know"

Keith's words fell in a jumbled mush as he tried to get everything out in one breath. Taking a deep breath, he let himself drop back to lean against the light pole behind him

"I don't know what I'm doing mum. I don't know how to be married. I'm never there when he needs me. And he does... but... I keep trying to show him I love him and that's not making it better. So I don't know what to do. Because I do love him. And he says I should be there for you, but I'm... I can't do this anymore"

"You can't do training, or you can't do Lance?"

Keith's heart skipped an uncomfortable beat. He had Lance and their twins to think of. His mother was carrying his replacement. All of a sudden it felt like too much. His chest tightened as he struggled to take a breath. Dropping her fairy floss, Krolia took his face in her hands

"Keith, breath for me"

He was trying. In through the nose. Hold. Out through the mouth. He knew it a million and one times over. All the times he'd talked Lance through the same thing. And now...

"I love him..."

Tears welled in his eyes. The "but" didn't need to be said given he'd already stated it

"Then we can work the rest out. Focus on your breathing"

When the sob bubbled up from his throat, he sucked down a breath

"I don't know what to do. He won't take his medication. He's absolutely exhausted. He wants to come train recruits with me, but I'm worried about his health. He's going to be mad at me for talking to you about it, but Shiro... says I'm not doing it right. I thought if he was happy, then... then maybe he'd be more open to taking his medication... but now I don't know..."

"Keith, Lance is a grown man. Lance is your husband. You've been the one there for him, not Shiro. You know what works with him"

"Do I? Because I seem to have missed a hell of a lot not being there! 7 phoebs... it's been 7 phoebs for him. How much is he keeping hidden as he pretends to be happy?"

"7 phoebs? It's been 5 since New Years"

"Time works different there. It's been 7 for him. Or about 7. He's been off running around his sector in space, not caring if he had a goddamn seizure in the middle of nowhere"

"Ah. Sorry, pregnancy brain makes you forgetful... Keith, if I'm working you too hard, you shouldn't be afraid to tell me"

Keith was still struggling to breathe. He was deathly embarrassed over crying in public where his mother had to comfort him. Her hands felt as if they were the only thing stopping him from sliding down the light pole

"But you need me. And Lance needs me..."

"Keith. I'm fine. I have Kolivan by my side. I'm sorry if I've been putting all this pressure on you. I believe in you and your talents, so I can't help but entrust you with more missions. You have proved yourself over and over. You've made so much progress with those recruits. You've built your name and a reputation you live up to. I should have considered you and Lance further. That's on me. I couldn't be prouder of you. And you know it's not your job to take care of me. It's mine to take care of you"

"Everything... I'm sorry. I shouldn't be crying. I was going to ask why you didn't come with Kosmo"

"Keith. You don't need to apologise. I..."

Keith was done with the subject. Well, more like he wanted to be done with it

"It's fine, mum. I don't know why I melted down like that... Lance would be mad at me for..."

"You haven't spilt any of his secrets. Keith, you know you can talk to me, don't you?"

"I know. Everything hit me all at once again. I want to... I don't know how to be a big brother. I don't know how to be a parent. Aren't you scared?"

"Keith, there's a big difference between being a brother and a father. I still have a few phoebs before I give birth"

"But aren't you scared? What if something happens? What if something goes wrong during the delivery? Or... or something happens to the baby"

  Releasing his face, Krolia pulled him into a tight hug

"Galra genes are strong. Your new sibling will be strong too. Has it been weighing on you?"

"You saw my memories. I couldn't help a single one of those kids... I don't remember their names or their faces anymore... but what if... what if something happens and they end up in an orphanage or in the system. I don't want their lives being like mine"

"I'm sorry I wasn't there when your father passed. I'm sorry you went through so much pain and suffering. But you're not alone now, Keith. You have Lance for a start. He loves you very much"

That was twice he felt as if his mother had rejected him. Yes, she had Kolivan by her side. And he had Lance now. And yes she said she relied on him... but... She could have started by saying he had her...

"Thanks, mum"

  Parting from her hold, Keith wrapped his arms around himself as he wiped at his face. He wasn't sure he felt any better for having talked to his mother.

"Keith, you know you're my first born, and the way I feel about you is never going to change. This baby isn't going to change that. I love you"

Those were the words he wanted to hear. Normally throwing ones self at someone was Lance's move, yet Keith still threw himself at his mother

"Oof! Oh, Keith. Nothing could or would ever change the way I feel for you"

"I'm sorry. I am happy for you. I guess I can't... it's not fair that they'll always have you there when I had to wait over a decade and a half to meet you..."

"Wait. You didn't think I was sending you on all these missions because I didn't want you around"

Part of him had wondered. Keith wanted to say no. He wanted to say that the thought hadn't wormed its way into his brain more than once. Still, he hadn't been thinking of it given he was too busy being angry and embarrassed

"I wasn't until you just said so"

“I love you. Here, how about we find somewhere to sit and talk properly?” “I’m ok, mum. I’ll be ok…”

“Nope, you’re my son. I want to hear everything. Starting with why is Lance having seizures, and how we can both help him, and how I can help your marriage”

Keith couldn’t go into the full history on that one. But maybe having his mother talk to his husband about his medication would give them both insight they were sorely lacking. The incite of a parent rather than two galactic dumb-arses who were way in over their heads

“Well, you did drop your fairy floss. Why don’t we make our way over to the food vendors and go from there?”

Krolia gave a laugh

“I hate to tell you, but with how I feel right now, I don’t think we’ll be leaving there any time soon”

Keith jerked back a little in confusion “You get hungry when you’re pregnant?” “Oh, my boy. You have a lot to learn”