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#to say otherwise like theyd be fine with it but i just cant do it man i got anxiety of the social kind i cant keep going man i cant

triptych-of-voids · 5 months

Note

Autistic medic gives me life ❤❤. Any random hcs for him? /nf /pos

of course! autistic medic is canon to me

ive already talked a bit about him being autistic before so a few of these maybe be things ive already mentioned but ill say them anyway

this is already obvious to everyone already but his special interests are surgery and medicine! anything medical really. hes also very interested in anatomy and pigeons (specifically pigeons. he probably couldnt tell you a lot about parrots for example, but if you want 100 facts about doves then hes your guy). and of course hed have a bunch of other hobbies and interests but those are the big ones

hes more prone to shutdown than he is to meltdown. not that meltdowns would never happen, theyre just more rare. usually a shutdown would come first and on the occasion hes pushed past that then a meltdown would follow, and after a meltdown then hed have a second even worse shutdown. thankfully situations like these are rare

like ive said (and drawn) before his main stims are rocking, hand flapping, echolalia, tensing up and hand wringing, and biting. a few other less obvious/not as common that he has are sparkly/flashy visual stims, he also loves both feeling and seeing anything gorey, he likes petting his birds, certain noises would be very pleasant to him like his doves cooing or coins clinking together and the sounds of the mediguns. hed love the smell of coffee and isopropyl. hed have a few others stims too but theyd be more rare and very situational like hitting himself or toe walking.

hes weird about his gloves and his coat. as in he would put them on for a specific reason but once he gets used to having them on he would absolutely hate taking them off. he has to keep them on for the rest of the day no matter what. and vice versa, if hes not wearing his gloves or coat then he cant just?? randomly put them on?? no no its all or nothing theyre either going on for combat and then staying on for the rest of the day or not at all

hes very excitable and loves to talk and if hes engaged in a conversation or excited about something then his voice will gradually get louder and louder and he'll keep interrupting or talking over people. he wont even notice it until someone points it out to him

you cant take him to the store because hes going to touch everything and then very quickly regret it when hes suddenly overcome with the overwhelming soul crushing need to wash his hands and theres no sink around. its so over :[

bad at left vs right and identifying north, south, east, and west. nothing else to say here, its not that he gets lost easily, he can find his way around just fine its just that hes awful at directions

very strict about his routines and lists. he cannot stand it if he makes plans and they get postponed or canceled. he hates it if he makes a list of things to get and then cant get everything on the list exactly correct. hes actually more than willing to do things on impulse in the moment but only if hes already mentally planned to do that or if it doesnt interfere with something else he has going on

hes very blunt and direct. he says exactly what hes thinking and answers questions very honestly and directly. people often find him to be rude for this but he doesnt get why. speaking of him being seen as rude, he used to get in trouble for always rolling his eyes or talking back to people because for the longest time he didnt realize that trying to stretch your eyes or avoid eye contact or staring could all somehow be considered 'rolling' your eyes. or rude. and talking back... isnt that how a conversation works? hes never been very good at knowing when he is or isnt supposed to reply to statements.

ive said it before but i will say it again. he has little to no empathy. every autistic person is different of course and not all autistics have low empathy, but im tired of low enpathy being seen as a bad trait. im tired of people with low empathy (autistic or otherwise) being seen as evil and uncaring. having low empathy doesnt make you a bad person. he has very low empathy and often struggles to connect with and understand others. he frequently will have the wrong emotion for the situation and may sometimes come off as uncaring when he is not as sad about something as they are, etc etc etc but he is not some horrible evil monster for it and i do not want to see anyone saying that because its just completely incorrect. hope this helps

anyway!!!! theres some autistic medic!!!! i hope you like him as much as i do!!!!

#replies from the void #autism #asd #tf2 #tf2 medic #autistic medic is canon to me sorry #i know the truth #the doc is in

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gla55t33th · 1 month

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anymore angel vox? :3 how does he interact with other characters! /nf!

i am currently in Sketch Hell as i would describe it so ill be reblogging later when i can Draw but. Ramble under the cut

Firstoff i made the design because of a handful of fics which i read and stupidly forgot to save . Namely the one where he died for alastor, angelic interference, and the one where they made a fuckup on the books. (Ill get back when i find their names) . I just wanted to make the design for the sake of it and try to make his looks fit heaven and also my interpretation of vox, so hes intended to look almost like a character youd see on an old tv show but a bit more suave. I also wanted a space age head because i mean thats The Period of innovation and while there were certainly similar designs while he was alive its more symbolic of progress than actual progress. Then my brain started doing its thing and when i start thinking about anything for more than five seconds i get a bunch of pins and red string and become a full blown theorist who needs to connect everything to worldbuilding or ill die

so. I started a fic and if you find it you find it :]

ANYWAY! CLAPS MY HANDS

my angel vox.

Point the first! this isnt a vox goes straight to heaven, its canon divergence. Vox dies, goes to hell, and at the peak of his messy hell career he dies again and goes to heaven. Vox is not redeemed.

2. Vox is powerless. Heaven equalises people. It has rules, a lot of rules, and these are sown straight into their reality which cant be broken. He does however have free will and a silver tongue.

3. I think vox and sera would get along surprisingly well when it came to it. Sera is a 'tough love' sort of character, and does believe shes doing good in spite of it all, and is willing to do lesser evils. Vox cares about nothing but numbers and outcomes. This means that if they share a goal a lot of their approaches would also be shared, and i think theyd be fond of that.

4. Vox despises heaven. Just the fundamental concept of it. He does enjoy a struggle and he does enjoy pain, thats the point of being alive to him. Or well. dead. Its an uphill battle but its his uphill battle to fight. Also he just needs something to keep him occupied at all given times or he might just snap #adhd

4a. He also hates the residents, mostly because of very well earned trust issues how its not fun to talk to any of them. They just say whatever theyre thinking, no song and dance, no fine print, and vox loves fine print and searching for hidden meanings.

5. Emily is nice and almost tolerable but he would absolutely throw her off a bridge if it benefited him without second thought. He hates how much of a bleeding heart she is, but that seems to be a trait of everyone up there

6. Vox's relationship with himself is a complex mess. It always has been and heaven made it worse. Not only did it revert his body to how it was when he first fell but Angel Edition, hes barely mechanical anymore- and while being a good part machine was all part of hells punishment at the start for various psyche reasons (as well as how inconvenient it was) he had grown to worship and love his inorganic nature, and how much better it was than his faulty body . I have headcanons about that but that falls under spoiler territory for Said Fic. But heaven handing him back his flesh and blood is a massive massive violation of his boundaries and the moment he stops and actually starts thinking about what the hell has happened hes gonna break

7. The vees think vox is dead dead. Angel!vox would... have a strained relationship if he were to meet like that. On one hand, hes vox! Their vox! But like this he can't be his usual overlord self and while he trusts them enough to view them as friends, he wouldn't be able to face them as partners like this; business or otherwise. Hes horribly powerless and they need him on his A game.

8. Alastor (angel!vox punches the ground and eats drywall)

#hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel #Vox #Does this make sense? WHO KNOWS! SLEEP DEPRIVED RAMBLINGS OF AN AUTIST

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gayspock · 1 year

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ok im finished with s2 of bsg btw

EVERY TIME I THINK I KNOW HOW BAD GAIUS CAN FUCK UP HE ASTONISHES US ALL. ITS SO FUCKING FUNNY. HES THE FUNNIEST FUCKING CHARACTER EVER TO FUCKING EXIST.

LIKE IVE NEVER... THE WORD CRINGEFAIL? ITS FOR HIM AND ABOUT HIM; DEFINED BY HIM. HOW DOES HE FUCKING MANAGE IT. IM LOSING MY MIND. THIS MAN WILL DOOM US ALL . GOD SPEED

anyways im starting the resistance webisodes rn. a few things. i hope going forward we do get more development for the civilians and again not the same recurring issues ive been bringing up bc NOW i feel like its imperative that theyre well fleshed out if this is taking the direction i think its taking

bc otherwise this whole thing could be exhausting as hell LOL

also cally. her actress is really cute and early on i was endeared to her (bc shes set up as a chara i'd rlly like) but since then its so funny like... they just get her to do whatever the fuck huh. like. she'll shoot sharon or she'll get beat up and now shes married to the chief. ok. right. its so funny like shes existing outside the narrative until they randomly decide to ave her do osme shit

btw i bet if billy was still alive the voter fraud well they would have still been caught no doubt tory fucking rules but it would have been funny if billy was caught instead

ALSO GOD I DONTKNOW WHAT ELSE TO SAY MY BRAINS EVERYWHERE LIKE

i dont know how i feel about the cylon storyline right now. i absolutely did really love the caprica six and boomer episode bc theyre my favies BUT im unsure if i like it narratively speaking does that make any sortof sense

again i think its coming from a place of like... hmm... the societal aspects of cylons ALSo has always felt underdeveloped BUT that was more passable under the guise of mystery and NOW i think its one of those things where its like... ahrgh you've tried to put the bad sfx into good lighting and we can see it dont do thattt LOL bc like

i dont know i do worry that the cylons will approach a state of "too human" if that makes sense. like within the story and within their own motivations. i dont quiteknow how to describe it im very tired but its like... I DONT mean discussing how they're like/unalike humans thats FINE but. AHRHGHGHGHGG

YOU KNOW WITH LIKE EVERY AI STORYLINE THERE'S ALWAYS THAT "I'LL NEVER BE AREAL HUMAN

YEAH but then a lot of the time its still done in a very... human way even when theyre trying to reject it and... NOT purposefully its like people cant write an actual inhuman perspective, without assuming some fundamental aspects of human nature. does that make any sense in the world and whatsoever???

anyways i dont know my point is i get a little anxious the more and more aspects of cylons that come to light bc i feel like ive been anticipating A LOT with them with the wa y theyve been stringing us along but yeah theres behaviours like that where im like am i about to get terribly disappointed

speaking of im wondering who he other cylons are in the fleet still bc they mentioned 8 and idk if that meant 8 copies or 8 models and who that counts as but surely there must be some unrevealed did the girlies just pretend thats not a concern or assume it was porkie pies

also also im . very tired all over the place but hmm.im thinking moreso about the nature of the others and i think i brought up last time abt how lee couldnt be a copy bc theyd have to make a line of models identical to him and so and such BUT ehhrm. hm. i still dont think lee is one but i do wonder if like... the order of their numbers is significant that maybe like. there are later/newer models thatmight be unique or are working to be replicas of existing people rather than just .. whatever is occurring with them rn

alsog od what else

roslin is so girlboss funny for just becoming a teacher again

what else

idk

im tired

i'llremember whatelse later<3

#Egg.txt #bsg liveblog

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thoughts-and-all-that · 2 years

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why are you such a fucking bitch. fuck you with your fucking 'i dont give a fuck that you got rightfully mad that some teenage brat is calling your existence a joke so you called him a brat for, yknow, BEING A BRAT'. why the fuck do i always have to be the bigger person. im sick of being the bigger person.

im on my last strings with this group idefc man. if i get demoted or smthn like this happens one more time. i dont even care ill just leave. what the fuck is one more restart on my pile of dozens. these people are barely close to me anyway. not like theyll fucking care. and itll just end up being one more group of people who hate me in the end. not unusual.

im only really friends with like, one or two of them, but also not really. when was the last time we played a game together, VCd together, any of that? its been forever. i could join the vc anytime but theyre always playing shit idc about and talking about shit idc about. why cant i ever be what i care about. why not ask to play the game they know i love. even just for an hour or two.

i know im always forcing others to prove they care about me without me even telling them thats what im doing but like... they dont really prove it much. theyll hit me up if i go silent and then i come back and the cycle repeats

its always like this. why cant i just find the place where i truly connect with people and everything is just fine. why is it always something.

all i wanna fucking do is play minecraft and talk about whatever dorky kids show/movie im obsessing over this time. why is that so hard.

maybe its me, but like, im literally so fucking chill if people arent being stupid, but they get stupid so much.

at this point im fucking holding back from leaving that server. a year and a half down the drain just like that. its always a year and a half or less. i guess i just cant handle long term relationships.

my only real friend is a fucking stuffed animal. i think if i got one wish in this world, id be selfish and wish she were real. just the way i imagine her and everything. why should anyone else get my wish when all of them disappoint and hurt me time and time again. she would never hurt me.

maybe im just destined to be alone. too bad for that destiny that i desperately grasp onto what little connection i hold to humanity left.

maybe i do need to go to a mental hospital finally. ill give it a week before i make that choice. i need to at least get my new glasses in 6 days anyway.

i just feel my brain deteriorating and i cant do much about that i think.

ill just suffer like always.

i dont care if im being selfish. i think ive earned it after a lifetime of never getting what i want. what i truly want.

cause instead i was born into a family of people i wouldnt otherwise interact with ever, in a town full of people that never cared about me, especially not the way i tried to care about them, in a body thats not mine. in a life thats not mine.

i feel as if i were misplaced at birth. misplaced nonphysically. like i was meant to be somewhere else, somewhere right, and something went wrong. and the universe just never corrected itself. it left me here.

there wasnt a point to this post. im just sick of feeling all these things and having nowhere to say them. i cant let people i know hear me say shit like this. its not like theyd listen anyway.

i wish i wasnt broke so i could get a stupid fucking therapist already. i wish preventing myself from wanting to die and hate myself and hate the world wasnt so unaffordable.

anyway haha mental illness moment woahagagahshhhaoahah so funni wild wowza woooo

#vent #dont ignore me #personal

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kawaragi · 3 years

Note

hiiiiiii! can i ask what kind of pellets you feed your rabbits? and do you use timothy hay for them? and can i ask for some tips on how to take care of them? i have a rabbit too but it's my first time taking care of one, so i still kinda don't know what to do yet heheheh. it's fine if you don't want to answer though heheheheheh

hi! i’ll answer this ofc hehe im not an expert by any means but these r just precautions me and my sister take from videos about rabbits and even asking my friends for advice ^^ so sorry for the small text!

1) rn we use smallworld’s brand for pellets - it works perfectly fine and my rabbits really like them so it works the best for us !! oxbow is a good brand too and probably recommended by a lot of rabbit owners

2) we use timothy hay yes ! if ur rabbit is really young and small, use alfalfa. and please remember to always always ALWAYS keep your hay stocked and accessible to ur rabbit. this is an important part of their diet and if they dont get to eat hay for a long while, they’ll go into this stage called GI Stasis. its very very deadly for rabbits bc it affects their intestines and since rabbits dont have the ability to throw up or fart it out, their intestines is a good place to check if your bunny is okay.

3) consider getting them spayed / neutered ! i know that pet owners are 50/50 on the spaying / neutering topic, but i’d say it’s quite beneficial. rabbits are territorial and have a dominant-submissive relationship with other rabbits. when unspayed/unneutered rabbits become mature, they will mark the place that is unrecognizable to them as their territory. whether it’s chinning, pooping, even spraying pee everywhere to put their scent on said places. it’s super troublesome and they’ll also try and reproduce if they’re unspayed/neutered because their hormones are going absolutely crazy. if your rabbit is a female rabbit, PLEASE go get her spayed. female rabbits who are not spayed are prone to uterine tumours.

i think thats everything regarding health so let’s talk about bunnyproofing your home!

4) my rabbits are free roamed during the day and we put them back in their cages when we go to sleep and we let them back out the next day. my rabbits are neutered so we don’t really have to worry about their past behaviors of spraying pee everywhere. we blocked out every little space that my rabbits could get into bc theyre very curious little things and could possibly get themselves in danger.

5) keep your cords and cables OUT OF SIGHT!!!! rabbits are so so SOOOO notorious for destroying anything and everything that gets in their way and unfortunately almost every household has a fuckton of cords and cables and theyre all bound to be cut by rabbits. getting cable covers is a good idea but we never got one, my dad just replaces them BDSNBS

6) cardboard r good toys for rabbits and they can chew on them! just watch them and make sure they dont chew too much otherwise it’s possible for them to get intestinal blockages (which i thought song had but… he was jusg constipated and gassy…) sticks are also good!! my mom takes apple sticks from my grandma’s garden and dries them up before giving them to my rabbits :)

7) i live in a carpeted apartment and having rabbits is like … homicide for the carpet :/ if u live in the same type of apartment as me pls make sure ur rabbit doesnt rip up the carpet as often 😭

8) RABBITS CAN BE TRAINED TO USE LITTERBOXES!!!!!! we didnt really have to train my rabbits, they just started using the litterboxes on their own and u can do this by putting their poops in the box with some hay and bc of the scent, it’ll make them think that that is their territory :3 it’ll save u so much trouble and less poop to clean up. other places will advice u to get like chips for the pee to soak in but we just use a regular like pee pad for dogs bc its easy to change out

9) block out any small spaces that they could potentially get into. that includes spaces under the bed, under the couch, behind the tv where there are cords and cables, dressers - i don’t have this problem with song bc hes bigger in size and he knows he cant fit, but i have this problem with sang! hes much much smaller and he fits in small spaces and crawls in them easier and its just a pain to get him out so keep this in mind if ur rabbit is a menace and smaller in size ^

i think thats everything for bunnyproofing? so here r some other like things fhat we do for my rabbits

10) rabbits are just like cats and dogs, they settle for anything in terms of toys - i gave sang a small box and he plays with it and chews on it. its important to give them something to chew on if theyre not chewing hay bc rabbits’ teeth grow out suuuuper fast and u have to keep them chewing on something bc if u dont, and their teeth grow out, it could cause some growth problems!

11) u dont have to worry about bathing them. like at all. rabbits clean themselves way often than normal, they dont smell either! the only times that should be okay to bathe them is if they r really fucking dirty for example soaked in their own pee. do not AND I MEAN DO NOT regularly bathe them bc it sends them into a shock and could even cause death. we’ve had to do this to song and sang before they were neutered bc theyd be really dirty and soaked in pee and it’s just… gross to see them like that. (if u really really have to bathe them, use baby shampoo! its easier for their skin and their fur)

12) fun fact: rabbits LOVE bananas. they absolutely go fucking crazy over it - just dont give them too much fruits like strawberries and apples in one day bc they could get diabetes 😭 we let our rabbits eat as much as they want bc they stop when they dont want to eat anymore of the banana anyway. unless its song. song doesnt stop eating.

13) rabbits are actually very smart! u can put them in a routine with their meals like if u get them used to eatinf at around 11 am or earlier, they know the time of when they’ll be eating. for me tho song runs over to his bowl when he hears the rattling of the pellets in the scooper we have.

14) rabbits shed yes!! u can use a comb to get the shedding off but do not use a wired one. they have sensitive skin like fr fr sensitive skin and wired combs could cause abrasions on their skin which is never a good thing!!!

15) rabbits are, by nature, prey animals. they are naturally good at hiding their pain and sickness so its very very easy to miss them. u can easily tell if a rabbit isnt feeling well is if they are keeping to themselves, their ears are cold, they lose appetite, they dont move as much - something that’s not common to their usual behavior. so always keep an eye out for them!

i think thats everything i could think of ???? theyre high maintenance yeah just like any other animal but they are quite easy to take care of ! theyre also really really funny animals its adorable and i could fr watch them do their own thing every day.

they can be a lil bitch but tbh its so worth it, they are such cute critters. I JUST AGH I HOPE THIS HELPED U CAN ALWAYS SEND ME AN ASK ABT SOMETHINF AND I’LL GLADLY ANSWER IT FOR U!!!

#[ ☆ ] hello stranger #[ 🎐 ] — answered

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angrylizardjacket · 5 years

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when i said it i thought it was true [4] {Ben Hardy}

A/N: 2973 words. Listen, I massaged the timeline a little bit, just suspend your disbelief, perhaps it only takes 4 months to be in post production. Also yes I know X-Men didn’t actually film in Egypt, but I didn’t know that at the start of this fic and now I’m sticking with my mistakes because momma didn’t raise a quitter but she did raise a fool.

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

“You’re not proposing to me in a sheer shirt.” The moment the makeup team leaves, you turn on Ben, amusement tugging at your lips as you cross your arms, cocking your hip.

“You don’t like it?” He asked, the picture of innocence as he fiddles with the cuff of his jacket. You raise a singular eyebrow. “I think you do like it.” He hummed, a mischievous sparkle in his eye. When you refuse to break eye contact, your silence is answer enough. “I think you like it a lot.”

It’s been almost a four months since shooting officially wrapped, two since you’d filmed the last of the pick up shots they’d needed, and a full month since you and Ben seen each other in person; you’d been busy with a Netflix series, and Ben had been in talks about a new project, and you’d been messaging every day but seeing each other in person is... well there’s something different. Playful. Easy. Somehow neither of you seem worried about the looming proposal, and are just making up for lost time.

“Love, you’ve gotta take it up with the stylist, not me.” He shrugged, as if helpless, and turned, making his way to the door, knowing without even looking that you’ll be following behind him. He’s chipper, brimming with excitement and looking damn good, and once he gets to the elevator and pushes the button, he offers you his arm while he waits.

“Marry me.” He says it suddenly, watching the numbers of the elevator tick up to your floor. There’s no-one around, and the ring is still in his pocket.

“What?” With a frown, you step into the elevator, and press the button for the lobby, still tucked up against him.

“What if we just show up engaged?” He asks, hand in his pocket where he’s fiddling with the ring box. He’s not nervous, just contemplative.

“And deprive Swarovski of their moment?” You scoffed, and he tipped his head to look at you, eyebrows raised in exasperated amusement.

“I know you hate the ring, ‘too gaudy, too ostentatious by half’, isn’t that what you said?” He snickers after doing as half decent imitation of you. Giving him a shove, you duck your head to hide your embarrassed smile.

“It’s so ‘look at me! Look at me!’” You huff, and he can’t help but laugh at that. The sound of it, in person rather than over Skype, made you feel, for lack of a better phrase, like you were home. Not that there really was a better phrase, you just didn’t want to think about or admit how much you’d missed him.

“Sorry to say, dude, but there’s nothing more ‘look at me! Look at me!’ than a red carpet proposal.” And yeah, okay, maybe he had a point, but that was one night, you had to wear that ring until... they hadn’t told you the DVD release date, but you’re pretty sure it was some time in the New Year. When you bring this up, he just rolls his eyes. “You’re not the one getting down on one knee for a fake proposal; I’m gonna look like an idiot when this is all over.”

“Well fine, if you’re so worried, I’ll propose.” Instead of dwelling on his words, you step away, holding your hand out expectantly. When he just stares at you, bewildered, you motion for him to hand the ring box over, and he finally cracks a grin, shaking his head.

“If you think I’m gonna be caught dead in that ring you’re wrong.” He spluttered, and you can’t help but laugh at that.

“Fine, I won’t take your first proposal away from you.” You hum with a smile, tucking yourself back against him. He goes very quiet. It takes you a few moments, but you look up at him, brow furrowed. He seems lost in his own thoughts. “It- Ben you’ve never been engaged before, I feel like I’d know if you had been.” Your words snap him out of his trance and he looks at you with wide, bright eyes, and an unconvincing smile.

“Yeah, no, I would have told you by now otherwise.” The silence that falls around you in not a comfortable one, and you’re glad when the elevator comes to a stop. “I got close once, though.” He admits, quietly. You don’t know how to respond to that; you hadn’t considered how much those words would hurt. You want to ask with who, but you already felt an unreasonable rush of jealousy at the thought of someone else stealing his heart enough for him to want to be with them forever. Unreasonable jealousy.

Filming for X-Men started a week ago and he’s only called you once; he’s on a film lot somewhere in Canada and his hair is curly and god he looks cute but the apartment feels so empty. He’s bright eyed and excited. He’s rambling about how busy he is, and he’s still wearing his makeup. The call lasts five minutes; the cast are going out for dinner. You tell him to have fun, but you’re heart’s not in it; he can sense it, and promises to call you tomorrow, before he hangs up.

He doesn’t call, part of you isn’t surprised.

“Marry me.” He asks again, voice low in your ear. The others in the car can’t hear him, but part of you is afraid they might. They don’t technically know it’s not a real relationship, though part of you thinks Gwilym has his doubts, not that he’d ever voice them.

“Not the time.” You shoot him a warning look, and he just slings an arm around you, leaning back in his seat.

“You’ll regret not letting me be low-key about it.” He warns in return, giving you a blithe smile, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Low-key about what?” Lucy asks, and you elbow Ben in the ribs. He keeps smiling, though his mischievousness slides to something more fond as he actually looks at you.

“About anything.” You say by way of explanation, and though she, along with the rest of the car, still look confused, they don’t push it. There’s reporters everywhere when you get out of the car, and you and Ben are the last ones out.

“Last chance before this becomes a spectacle.” He murmurs when he steps out after you, straightening the back of your dress just a little, and he sounds amused, but there’s something genuine in his voice, and you take a moment to pause, turning back to him. His hands land on your hips, his touch light, and his expression is so familiar it hurts, and you realise he is a little nervous; it’s a very public setting for what should be a very private matter. With cameras going off all around you, you pull him in for a kiss, and he relaxes somewhat, kissing you back with his grip tightening on your hips.

“We’re being paid to be a spectacle.” You remind him, and he nods, smiling softly, and the two of you make your way down the red purple carpet together. You have to stop every few feet to do interviews, and soon enough you had pulled ahead of Ben; he had a much larger part in the film that you did, it wasn’t surprising the reporters wanted to monopolise him. It still felt strange, to turn and not have him there. Sometimes you’d do interviews with the other boys, sometimes he’ll be there, and as the main photo area loomed, you could finally feel the butterflies in your stomach.

Soon.

Perhaps too soon.

“What do you mean you’re going to Egypt?” You snapped, wishing your internet connection was better so he could see you glaring clearly.

“I told you about it ages ago.” Ben sighs, clearly tired. It’s there in his eyes, how drained he is, how hard he’s been working, and your expression softens.

“That’s exciting,” you force yourself to take a breath, it was the first time you two had spoken that fortnight, neither of you needed this to be hostile. The days had started feeling so long when you don’t hear from him; all you want is a damn hug and he’s on the other side of the world. “What if I come visit you?”

“In Egypt?” He asks, eyebrows raised.

“In Egypt.” You confirm, a weak smile on your face, he doesn’t look thrilled by the process.

“Don’t bother.” He sighs, and the moment he sees your expression fall, he realises how his words had sounded, and he’s sitting up straight, panicked look on his face, spluttering his way through an apology. “I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just busy and it’s going to be hot and-”

“No, I get it.” Your dejected sigh was followed by a yawn, and you hovered over the end call button. “When you’re less tired I think we should talk.” You tell him, and you see the confusion, fear, and resignation pass over his face in quick succession.

He agrees quietly, and neither of you really say goodbye before hanging up.

He was tapping on your shoulder as you were halfway through talking to E! News, and you’ve never been more anxious and excited in your life, and never so thankful to not be at the main photo area on a red carpet. His timing was perfect.

“So sorry, could I borrow Y/N for a minute?” He smiles charmingly at the reporter, and his expression softens when he sees the relief in your eyes.

Before he even starts, it feels off, feels wrong, feels like a performance for the cameras more than anything else.

“Don’t get teary on me, I know how hard your makeup artists worked.” He begins, and you make sure the cameras catch your surprised confusion. He’s takes one of your hands in his, linking your finger together, and the other holds your face. There’s a moment that passes between you two, his expression softens as he looks in your eyes and it’s as if he’s looking past everything that had happened, the whole setup you’d found yourself in; he was seeing you.

“This is probably the biggest night of my life,” he starts, taking a deep breath, “for more than one reason; you’re my best friend, you’ve been there for some of the highest points in my life, and some of the lowest. I know you, Y/N, I feel like I’ve known you my whole life, and I want to. I want you there by my side for the rest of it,” it sounds... so much more planned out than you’d expected, so much more heartfelt, and you’d be damned if there weren’t tears in your eyes. Despite the fact that this very private moment had a huge audience, which included a reporter muttering ‘holy shit, is this what I think it is?’, you could only see him. Damn if it didn’t feel real.

“I love you; I’ve loved your since-” his voice catches in his throat, and you see a hint of pain flash across his face before he’s smiling again, “since I first saw you in that damn wig they put you in,” it sounds like an addendum, like he doesn’t really mean it, or like it’s not the whole truth, but it’s enough to make you laugh, and when you look down to hide your embarrassed smile, your tears fall from your eyes, “since you agreed to all of this,” he gestures to himself with a self-deprecating grin, though his double meaning is not lost on you, though his expression turns serious after a moment, “since I first kissed you on set, though that feels like a long time ago.” Your breath catches in your throat, and he sounds like he hadn’t mean to say that last part, his voice too raw, his heart too honest for it to be a truly fake statement. You can do little more than whisper his name in reverence. Gently, so gently, he lifts your head, his thumb wiping the tear track from your cheek.

“Marry me?” It’s a question this time, and when you look at him with confusion, disbelief written on your face at the way he chose to word it, he laughs softly, sinking to one knee and pulling out the ring box, and revealing the single most frivolous ring you’d ever had the displeasure of seeing. “Will you marry me?” He corrects softly.

The crowd behind you is going absolutely mad behind you, and cameras are going off at an almost blinding rate, but his eyes don’t leave yours. Nodding, you can’t even form words, so caught up in the moment, and he stands, pulling you into a kiss. The flash of cameras surround you like a sea of stars and Ben’s the only thing keeping you on solid ground. His grip is tight enough that he almost lifts you off the ground, and you’re on your tiptoes with his arms around you before his grip loosens, his hands sliding down the small of your back, and for the first time since this whole fake relationship began, he doesn’t hesitate before he deepens the kiss. He tastes like mint and you’re so glad you’re wearing that twenty-four hour lipstick or you know you’d be a mess, and when you pull back, you’re both out of breath, looking at each other with a something akin to awe in your eyes.

You’re pretty sure, in this moment, you love him; nothing fake about it. And you can see it in his eyes that he loves you too. This is dangerous territory for you both.

Stepping back, he takes your hands again.

“I told you not to cry, love.” He laughs gently, voice so soft as you dab at your eyes with your right hand, watching as he slides the ring onto the ring finger of your left hand.

“What can I say, you have a way with words; how long were you working on that speech.” You sniffle, grinning brightly as you examine the ring, still holding his hand. After a beat too long of silence, you look up to see him smiling softly at you.

“A while.” He admits, and something about the way he says it makes your chest ache. The moment passes and he looks down at your joined hands. “That’s fucking hideous.” He whispers, shaking his head at the sight of the ring, and you giggle, preferring to throw your arms around him, kissing him again.

The two of you are the last two to arrive at the formal photo area, with the logo backdrop, and Joe’s grin is confused where he greets you both at the edge of where everyone was in a line getting a group shot.

“What was all the commotion over there?” He asked quietly, and Ben stepped into position easily, slipping an arm around Joe’s shoulders and pulling you in. You were still beaming, you couldn’t help yourself.

“We got engaged.” Ben murmurs to Joe, careful not to draw attention to them, which was immediately counteracted by Joe’s loud ‘What the fuck?!’ “Calm down, man, we didn’t want to take all the focus off of the premiere, you know?”

As soon as the big group shot was taken, you stepped off to the side as the four boys had their photos taken, and you could see Joe murmuring to the others, while Ben just smiled for the cameras and tried not to blush.

Photos were taken with Brian and Roger, of Rami and Lucy, and even some of you and Ben, and when you posed, you both had an arm around each other, and you leaned into him, resting your hand on his chest with your ring on clear display.

There’s congratulations all around as you’re heading into the theatre, but the biggest shock of the night comes in the form of Roger Taylor wrapping you up in a hug while you’re still glowing with pride.

“Before we go in, I want you to know you did an incredible job, dear. You’re a stunning performer and I never had any doubts about you.” As he says it, you can feel Ben give your hand a gentle squeeze. You’re pretty sure you’ve got shock written all over your face. “I’m very proud of you both.” He claps Ben on the shoulder, and Ben thanks him quietly. It looks as though he’s about to head in, but he turns back. “Be good to her, you hear?” He says to Ben sternly, but there’s a glimmer of fondness in his eyes, and Ben rolls his eyes good-naturedly. He’s still holding your hand.

“What was that?” You breathed as soon as Roger had left; you feel like you’ve been doused in cold water, though you can’t help but smile.

“Well I think he definitely approves of you playing Amanda.” Ben moves to wrap an arm around you as the two of you head into the theatre, searching for your seats. “And I think... I think he gave us his blessing?” That sounds more confused than anything else, and you don’t know how to respond one way or the other, apart from softly laughing as you sit down next to Lucy. Part of you, the largest part that had stayed sane and not drunk on this fake engagement, is pretty sure Roger’s going to be the hardest to break it to, when everything’s over; part of you worries that without Ben, you’ll lose his approval, which you didn’t realise you’d been craving until you’d received it. There’s an anxiety that builds in your chest as the lights go down, but Ben’s hand is in yours and you lean your head on his shoulder, and you can ignore that little worry for now.

the rat pack: @hotspacedeacon @strangeandwonderfulconcepts @itssaje @d-r-e-a-m-catchme @callumidiot @rockandrollandshit @bohorap @pietrorunsforme @sweetfierceimagines @itsjackothy @mhftrs @sherlockiantheatrenerd @softbenhardy @multifandomgirlrandomstuff @virtualsheepeat @smile-nine @i-padfootblack-things @deaconsroger @spookyfrances @holyurlbatman @your-idiotic-excellency @cosmicsskies @chlobo6 @screaminggalileochickenwrites

(crossed out means it wouldn’t tag; i’ll try again for the next part, lemme know if you wanna be tagged xx)

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #bo rhap #borhap imagine #borhap cast #borhap cast imagine #bohemian rhapsody imagine #the angry lizard writes

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bittysvalentines · 5 years

Text

If Pies Could Talk

Happy Valentine’s Day, @BajillionKittens! I think I hit all of your requests, so I hope you enjoy the fic! Thanks to Georgia and Silvia for organizing everything again this year!

Love from @aflailureandamasterpiece aka Julibean19

If Pies Could Talk (also on AO3)

Summary: Jack wants to ask Bitty something but he can’t find the words. If pies could talk, they’d call him a lovable failboat.

Zimbits, Explicit, POV Jack, Bottom!Jack, Communication Failure, Baking Jack, Cuddling & Snuggling, Special Appearances by Dex and Señor Bun

“Bits?” Jack asks, gently pushing unruly blond curls off Eric’s forehead. “Time to get up.”

A soft, negative noise meets Jack’s ears as Bitty groans and rolls over, showing Jack his back.

“I know it’s early, bud,” Jack says, lifting his comforter back and sliding into bed behind his boyfriend. “But it’s not checking practice early… it’s 9 a.m.”

“It’s Saturday,” Bitty protests, pulling Jack’s arm around his waist and shuffling backward into his chest. “It’s the day of rest. We’re resting.”

“Isn’t the day of rest Sunday?”

“Do not chirp me,” Bitty mumbles, barely turning his head toward Jack, eyes still closed. “It’s five a.m.”

“It’s nine.”

“Do you want to argue or do you want to cuddle?”

Jack smiles, leaning in to press the tip of his nose to Bitty’s hairline and taking a deep breath. Exhaling, he kisses the side of Eric’s throat, delighting in the happy murmur and wriggle of appreciation it gets him. “I want to cuddle,” Jack whispers, still smiling.

He set an alarm on his phone anyway. They have time. Settling back into his pillow, Jack pulls Bitty tight to his body and lets his eyes fall closed.

When his timer goes off forty minutes later, it feels like it’s only been a few seconds. Jack groans and reaches for his phone, eager to stop the pop music that’s blaring from the speakers. “Did you change my ringer to Beyoncé?” he asks, opening one bleary eye to silence the alarm.

“It’s Nicki Minaj, you heathen,” Bitty mutters, rolling over to face him.

“It’s terrible,” Jack insists, dropping his phone back onto the nightstand as Bitty’s fingers slip under the hem of his tee. “Crisse, your hands are cold.”

“Feel like warming me up?” Eric asks, apparently much more awake than Jack is.

“Just come here,” Jack says, sliding one arm under Bitty’s neck and pulling them flush together. He hooks his chin over Eric’s shoulder and curls around him, rubbing soothing circles against his lower back.

“This is nice,” Bitty says, sighing contentedly, letting himself sink into Jack’s body. “We should do this every morning.”

“If we did this every morning we’d never make it to Faber.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Bitty says, breath hot against the side of Jack’s throat.

“Coach Hall might have something to say about it.”

“Well,” Bitty says, nipping Jack’s skin, “he’s not here right now.”

“That would be awkward.”

“I’m trying to set a mood here, Mister Zimmermann. Work with me.”

“Oh,” Jack says, feeling his face heat. He had been enjoying their morning snuggles so much he hadn’t noticed the hardness growing against his hip.

“Yeah,” Bitty says, breathy and low. “Oh.”

Before Jack has a chance to respond, Eric is rolling on top of him, straddling his thighs. He looks up to see the sunlight bouncing off Bitty’s hair, giving him an ethereal glow. The effect is gorgeous and has Jack flicking his eyes to his phone and considering pulling up his camera app.

“I want you,” Eric says simply, biting down on his lower lip.

Smiling, Jack crooks his finger at him until he drops down low enough to kiss.

The moment Eric’s lips meet his, Jack melts, sinking deep into his pillows. He runs his palms under Bitty’s sleep-worn shirt and splays them across his back possessively, moaning into his mouth.

Eric hasn’t brushed his teeth, but Jack did just before waking him, so it’s easy to ignore in favor of sucking on his tongue. It’s hot, but slow—a deep kiss that Jack can take his time with. He pulls Eric in even closer and sucks on his bottom lip until Bitty is whining into his mouth.

Eager to find what other desperate sounds he can pull from Bitty, Jack reaches up to cup the back of his head before rolling them over and settling his hips between Eric’s thighs.

“Lord, I love when you do that,” Eric breathes, eyes fluttering shut as Jack slides his hands up his stomach, taking his shirt with them.

“I love when you wear my clothes to bed,” Jack says, pulling the old Habs tee over Eric’s head.

“If we could turn up the heat once in a blue moon maybe I’d sleep naked.”

“I’ll consider it,” Jack breathes against Bitty’s exposed stomach. He nudges one of Bitty’s nipples with his nose before wrapping his lips around it. It might be nice to sleep wrapped around a naked Bitty, but Jack also likes what they have—a warm cocoon of bedding and threadbare pajamas—a twin bed just barely big enough for two.

“Fuck, Jack,” Bitty whines, arching into his mouth.

Jack switches to the other side and sucks until Bitty’s hands fly up to twine into his hair, not pulling, but tensing every time a shiver runs through his body. Letting out a satisfied huff of breath, Jack pulls off and follows his hands down to Bitty’s waist, licking and biting a line down his stomach on the way.

“Will you blow me?” Eric asks, trailing his fingers along the curve of Jack’s jaw. “Your mouth is so hot and wet. God, it feels so good,” he says as Jack nibbles along the waistband of his borrowed flannel bottoms.

Jack sighs.

If only he found it just as easy to ask for what he wanted. It’s not that he dislikes doing this for Bitty—quite the contrary—but there’s something else he’s been dying to try. He just hasn’t been able to get the words out yet.

Hooking his thumbs into the elastic, Jack pulls Bitty’s pants down, lifting them up and over his erection and then down to mid-thigh. He leans back for a moment just to look his fill.

Eric’s thighs are trapped together by the elastic, but otherwise he’s exposed, golden skin on display for Jack to admire. His forearms look pale in comparison, and Jack marvels at the soft hair that sits below Eric’s navel, leading to his cock.

“God, I want you to fuck me,” Bitty sighs, looking down at him with his lower lip caught between his teeth.

“Later,” Jack says, leaning down to get his lips around the head and lick at the bead of fluid at the tip. The salt hits Jack’s tongue and he can’t stop the groan that builds in his chest at the taste.

Eric squirms below him, so Jack drapes his forearm across Bitty’s stomach and presses him back into the mattress. He sinks down lower, taking more of Eric into his mouth before licking back up.

Bitty breathes hard above him, already panting before Jack even really gets started. They’ve been doing this for a few months now, but every time with Eric feels like the first time—eager and a little sloppy, but also brilliant and intense and all-consuming.

He takes Bitty deep, relaxing around the stretch in his throat when Eric jerks under him, sitting up so abruptly Jack chokes before he has a chance to pull off.

“Sorry, sorry! God, I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Bitty says, thumb rubbing across Jack’s wet lips. “It’s just… do you smell something burning?”

“Tabarnak!” Jack curses, dropping his head to Bitty’s bare thigh in defeat. He groans, high and pained as he shakes his head back and forth. “I’ll go check.” Pulling away, Jack rises to his feet and slowly marches downstairs, furious with himself.

By the time he reaches the kitchen, Dex is pulling the charred remnants of a pie out of the oven and Bitty is hot on his heels, redressed in his pajamas.

“I’m so sorry Bitty,” Dex sighs, placing the burnt wreck on the stovetop with Bitty’s cherry print oven mitts. “I thought I’d gotten the temperature to stay even this time, but it must be on the fritz again.”

Jack rubs his fingers over his temples as Dex retrieves his toolbox from the hall and pulls out what he thinks he’ll need. “I’m really sorry about your pie, Bitty. Once I get it working again I’ll take you to Murder Stop & Shop for some more butter, okay?”

“That—” Bitty stops short, peering over at the blackened crust. “That wasn’t my pie. The lattice looks nice though. Which one of y’all found my vlog?” he says, voice raised to call through the Haus this time. “If I find the link on Twitter, I swear to Beyoncé I will end you.”

“It’s not—” Jack hesitates, hand clasped warily over his eyes. “I made it,” he finishes, voice so low he can barely hear it over the pounding of his own heart.

“You… you made this? Jack, honey,” he says, fingers catching Jack by the wrist and pulling until he stops covering his face. “Did you make this pie for me?”

Jack nods, unable to find any words to explain further.

“Dex,” Bitty says, fingers now intertwined with Jack’s, “Thank you so much for tryin’, but I don’t think Betsy’s broken.”

“Are you sure? Because the temperature has been all over the place and—”

“I distracted Jack. He made that pie for me, but I burnt it. Betsy’s working just fine. Isn’t that right, sugar?”

Jack nods, looking up just in time to see Dex’s face flush under his freckles.

“We’ll clean this up later,” Bitty says to Dex, reaching out to shut the oven off before pulling Jack by the hand all the way back upstairs to his room.

When they’re finally alone, Jack collapses against the back of the door, his entire body shaking slightly.

“Do you want to tell me what all that was about?” Eric asks him, hands on his hips.

Jack opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” In just a few steps, Eric is directly in front of him, cupping his cheeks and tilting his face up. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

Taking a deep breath, Jack steels himself. “I was trying to—”

He can’t do it. It’s not happening. This was all a stupid idea and now Bitty’s looking at him, wide brown eyes soft and expectant and Jack can’t say it. He can’t say anything at all.

“Trying to what, sweetpea?”

A long minute passes before Jack can bear to open his mouth again. “I wanted to ask—”

“Jack,” Bitty says, breath catching slightly on his name, “please tell me that was not a proposal pie—because as much as I love you, I am nineteen years old. That would just be too much for us right now.”

“No,” Jack says, clearing his throat. “No. I wasn’t trying to propose.”

“Jesus Christ on a cracker, you had me worried.”

“Not that I wouldn’t—”

“We will have that conversation later, mister. Much later,” he says firmly, but with a sweet smile that speaks to their bright future together.

“Okay,” Jack agrees readily, taking a deep breath. They really are getting ahead of themselves.

“What’s this all about then?”

Jack sighs, resigning himself to embarrassment. “You know sometimes words are hard for me.”

Bitty nods, tangling their fingers together again.

“I thought maybe if I made you something… you would… ”

“Be able to read your mind?” Bitty says, with a fond laugh. “I love that you tried to bake for me, honey, I do. But even the perfect raspberry pie isn’t going to be able to tell me whatever it is you want me to know.”

“It sounds so stupid when you say it like that.”

“It’s not stupid. It’s actually kind of adorable, but I’d rather you were comfortable enough to just tell me what you’re feeling. How can I make this easier for you?”

“I don’t think you can,” Jack says, voice barely above a whisper.

“Okay,” Bitty says, pulling Jack’s hand again until he stands. “I have an idea.” He locks his door and flicks the lights off before leading Jack over to his bed and pulling the curtains shut.

Jack gets in as soon as Eric yanks the covers back and relaxes into the mattress only after Bitty is curled around his back, tucking the duvet around them tight.

“Sometimes the hard things… they’re easier to say in the dark,” Eric tells him, breath hot and comforting against the back of his neck. “So we’re just going to lie here for a while and if you feel like you’re ready, you can tell me. I promise I won’t laugh or be upset or anything.”

“I don’t—I didn’t think you would laugh. I’m just nervous,” Jack tells the darkness. Light still peeks through around the curtains, but he closes his eyes and pretends it’s midnight, that they’re alone in the Haus, that his words will never see the light of day—will never leave this room.

“Here,” Bitty says, reaching behind him and returning with Señor Bun. He presses the doll into Jack’s hand before pulling the duvet up around their shoulders again. “He’ll make you brave.”

“Now I feel weird,” Jack says, huffing out a laugh. “I can’t talk about sex with him looking at me.”

“So this is about sex, huh?” Bitty asks, taking Señor Bun out of Jack’s hands and setting him on the window sill facing away from them. “What Bun doesn’t see can’t hurt him.”

“He’s seen a lot already,” Jack points out.

“Well, if things are about to get kinky, I’d rather keep him in the dark. Whatever it is you want, I’m sure we could work something out. So why don’t you just tell me? I promise to keep an open mind.”

“It’s nothing kinky,” Jack says quietly. “I don’t think it is, at least.”

“Then what has you so nervous?”

“I don’t know. It just—Parse didn’t—” Jack can’t finish the thought.

“It’s something you feel like you shouldn’t want? Because Kent didn’t?”

“I guess?”

“Honey,” Eric breathes, snaking a hand under the hem of Jack’s shirt and resting his palm against Jack’s bare chest. “Whatever it is. I won’t judge you. I just want you to be happy.”

“I want…” Jack takes a deep breath just as Bitty presses his hand tight against his heart, pushing them together. The pressure is comforting, grounding. Jack takes strength from it and finally finds his courage. “I want—I need you to make love to me. I need you to fuck me.”

Bitty sucks in a surprised breath and then lets it out slowly, the air ruffling the back of Jack’s hair, making his skin pebble. He leans in until his lips are just grazing the shell of Jack’s ear and asks, “That’s what you want?”

“Yes,” Jack says, a tingle shooting down his spine. Heat spreads through his body as Eric hitches his hips even tighter to Jack’s ass, betraying his arousal.

“All you had to do was ask, sugar,” Eric says, voice pitched low. “I’d be a fool to not want to make love to you. And I am many things, but I’m no fool.”

“Please,” Jack whimpers, all shame gone. The tone of Eric’s voice coupled with the insistent press of his erection has Jack hard and leaking already. When Eric’s teeth come down around the tendon in his throat, he whines, unabashed. It sounds pitiful, but he doesn’t even try to muffle it. He wants Eric to know how badly he needs this.

It’s a matter of seconds before they’re naked, clothes flung to far corners of the room, duvet lost on the floor. Jack wouldn’t be surprised if his Habs tee was ripped at the collar considering how forcefully he yanked it off Bitty’s body.

Bitty preps him quickly, the both of them too keyed up to take their time. As Eric slides a condom over himself, Jack feels an ache deep in his body, a ravenous, empty pain that has him hitching his knees up to his ears.

Biting down on his lip, Eric slowly pushes into him. He takes several measured breaths and then begins to move, absolute filth spilling out of his mouth. In a matter of seconds, Eric is tensing above him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re so fucking perfect, baby,” is the last thing Jack hears before Bitty buries himself deep, coming in rhythmic pulses inside him.

It’s over before Jack feels fully satisfied, but that just makes his hunger pangs more pronounced. He ignores them knowing Bitty will be ready again soon enough—that he always has more stamina the second time around. Jack is already the first to know what Bitty feels like when he orgasms—the first to hold Eric inside his body. He shouldn’t be greedy, as much as his body begs to differ.

As fingers quickly take the place of Eric’s softening cock, Jack thrusts down hard remembering all the ways Bitty has explored his body—has touched every inch of him. Eric knows him now… knows everything.

He comes with three fingers spreading him wide and Eric’s name on his lips.

Neither of them touch his cock.

It’s messy and overwhelming and everything a first time should be.

Jack can’t wait to do it again.

“Thank God you burnt that pie,” Bitty says, breathless, as he flops onto his back next to Jack.

“Why?”

“If you came at me with a perfect raspberry pie right now after what we just did I’d think I was still dreaming.”

“Well, we’re out of raspberries now, but I could go to the store…”

“Jack Zimmermann. What did I do to deserve you?”

“You taught me to make pie in the first place. It was really all your fault,” Jack says, resting his head on Eric’s chest, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“I can’t believe you’re chirping me right now. You’re the one that made me a ‘Please Fuck Me Pie!’”

“I can’t believe you didn’t know I was flirting with you that whole class.”

“I thought you were just really concerned about your GPA,” Bitty whines in embarrassment.

“Thank God we got an A,” Jack says, copying Eric’s turn of phrase. “If we didn’t maybe we wouldn’t be dating right now.”

“You’re saying Betsy brought us together?”

“I’m saying I think we owe Dex a thank you gift.”

Thanks for reading! Happy Valentine’s Day!

#bittyjack #fanfiction #bittysvalentines #bv2019 #omgcp #submission

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let-it-raines · 5 years

Text

Second in Command (Epilogue - Part Seven)

Summary: Life as the “spare to the heir” isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be when you’re the supposed screw-up of the family, but people don’t know what really happens behind closed doors.

Rating: Mature

A/N: You guys are totally going to be annoyed with me for how I left it on a cliffhanger when I totally didn’t have to except to show some character growth and how things change...which I guess is exactly the reason I ended it that way :D

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr Chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14| 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20

Epilogue Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Tag list: @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @kmomof4 @wellhellotragic @ekr032-blog-blog @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615@a-faekindagirl @mayquita @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @kristi555 @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma @alys07 @andiirivera

“Can I come in, son?”

“Yeah, of course,” Killian answers automatically, the shock of his father just showing up at his door stunning him for only a moment. It’s not like he never visits. He usually just calls or texts first. “I didn’t know you were coming over, dad. Why didn’t you call?”

“Oh, I was visiting the kids and thought I’d drop by since I knew that the two of you had returned home.” His dad steps inside, squeezing his shoulder before leaning down to pet Indy. “Hello, darling,” he then greets Emma, kissing her cheek before wrapping her up in a hug. “How are you feeling today?”

“Good, good,” Emma insists, her eyes still blown wide as if she’s actually been shocked. He knows she’s still a bit rattled from the flight and her nausea. The same thing had happened when they went out sailing the morning of their anniversary, before the disaster of the rest of that day, and even though he had been wary of it, Emma insisted she was fine. She never said she wasn’t, but the green of her face told him otherwise. “How are you?”

“Kicking pretty high for my age.”

“You are not old,” she laughs, tugging on Indy’s leash. “Do you mind if I take Indy for a quick walk? Let her run around a bit. She’s been told she’s going outside, and I’m afraid she’ll freak out if she doesn’t get to go.”

“Of course, dear. I’ll chat with Killian, and the second you two come back inside, I want to hear all about how you’ve been since you left us to go holiday in the warm sunshine. I swear it’s rained for the past week.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Emma takes a step over toward him, leaning up and kissing his cheek, whispering that she’ll be right back before taking a step outside with Indy and leaving him with his dad.

“Do you want something to drink? Eat?”

“I’m fine.” His father begins walking to the living room, settling down into the recliner he prefers when visiting all while Killian sits down on the couch next to him, only a side table between them. “So how was your holiday?”

He almost chokes on his own saliva thinking of all of the things he absolutely cannot tell his father about their holiday as well as wondering if he should bring up the privacy issue just yet. He doesn’t know, is never truly sure about these types of things. He could have a nice, normal conversation with his father or it could turn into another tense, stressful one. He’s had enough of those for a lifetime, but he also knows that he doesn’t have all of the time in the world to fix this. He’s got fewer than four months, really.

“It was wonderful,” he finally answers, his lips ticking up on one side. It really was wonderful to get away with Emma and only have each other for awhile despite the disaster that was their anniversary. It got better, though. It wasn’t completely bad. They had the sailing trip and the takeout meal that was better than anything else they’d eaten if only for how comfortable they both felt. He felt his son move for the first time, which was bloody brilliant and most definitely his new favorite thing. “It’s a gorgeous island. Emma mentioned something about asking you to make our beaches like that.”

Brennan barks out a laugh, the wrinkles on his face all gathering together while his gray hair shakes the slightest bit. If Killian was a betting man, he’d guess his dad is getting his hair cut in the next two or three days, keeping up with his lifelong schedule of haircuts. “If only I could. That would be bloody wonderful. But I like the way she thinks.”

“She’s definitely a brilliant dreamer.” He trails off toward the end of his sentence, looking down at his hand and twisting his ring around his finger, his constant physical reminder of his lifelong commitment to Emma, as if he really needs one. “Can I talk to you about something, dad?”

“Of course.”

“I know, well, I know that things were different when I was a kid, that technology wasn’t as advanced, that I was a bit of a surprise child and that you were on the older side when I was born.”

“Well, why don’t you just call me elderly then, Killian? And you have absolutely no proof that you were a surprise child.”

His dad laughs when he speaks, but Killian isn’t finding a lot of humor in it, knowing that he’s likely going to upset Brennan with his words.

“What I mean is, I know you weren’t really, truly involved in my life. And I’m not blaming you or trying to make you feel…upset, but I need a very particular kind of advice that really only you and mum or Liam and Abigail can give. And I’m honestly not even sure you can give it.”

“What’s wrong, Killian?”

He takes a moment to collect himself, hundreds of words on the tip of his tongue but none of them feeling quite right. But he has to say something, so he might as well speak the truth.

“How the hell am I supposed to be a father in a world where I can’t protect the privacy of my wife and my child? There were, um, photographers who rented out a house and used scopes to take pictures of us on the beach. And Emma and I got into a pretty nasty argument about it. She’s worried…I’m worried about Andrew’s privacy. We want him to live a life as normal as possible. We don’t want photographers following him to school or to the park, and I just – I don’t know how to fix it.”

He’s been clenching his fist all while he talks, the tenseness in his hand almost painful while hot tears form in his eyes, every fault and every insecurity he’s had long before the fight with Emma coming back and assaulting his senses, making everything a dark, cloudy blur.

Brennan looks calm, secure, the blue of his eyes not changing while his eyelids rapidly blink, his brows furrowing and the lines on his face increasing. Has he said too much? Shown too much emotion? Asked for the impossible?

“The fact that you have very obviously beaten yourself up about this proves that you are a better dad than I ever have been.”

“That’s not what I meant, dad. I didn’t – ”

“I know, Killian. I’m not taking offense to anything. I was a poor excuse for a father for the majority of your life. I was focused on Liam, on my job, on the protocol and the way that my father raised Albert and me. All I knew was that fathers were not supposed to be close to their children, and as much as that hurt me as a child, I stupidly believed it. The fact that you have forgiven me is something I still can’t believe.”

He leans over and places his hand on Brennan’s knee, patting him before leaning back and wiping at his eyes. “I did it for me, but with the way you’ve worked to change, you deserve it.”

“Thank you, my boy.” His father smiles, settling back into his chair and crossing his hands together in his lap. “But this is not about me. This is about you and your family. So you don’t want Andrew in the public eye? At all? Is that what you’re saying?”

“I mean, we haven’t discussed it in serious length, but yes. I’m sure that Emma will be okay with releasing the occasional photo or having him join us when we go overseas so we don’t have to be apart from him, but I think we’re going to have to take a step back in traditions. And when he gets older, I think we may need to move somewhere much more private.”

The front door opens then, the alarm beep sounding at the same time that he hears the click of nails and the squeak of sneakers as well as Emma’s voice. He straightens up, fixing his hunched back and sitting against the couch in as much of a relaxed position as he can.

“Go find, Killian, girl, yeah,” Emma coos, her voice getting louder the closer she gets to the living room. And then she’s in view, Indy running in first and jumping up on the couch before getting down once she spots Brennan, less familiar people always more exciting than him. Emma walks toward him, sitting down in the seat Indy just vacated and reaching around him to tangle her fingers in his hair, stroking the strands. “What’s wrong? Your shoulders are tensed.”

How the hell does she always know?

“Killian and I,” his father answers for him, seemingly understanding that Killian wasn’t sure what to say, “were simply talking about how you two seem to be suffering from some privacy issues and are worried about your child’s future, that you want Andrew to lead a more private life than normal.”

“Oh,” Emma gulps, her hand stilling in his hair before beginning again, “well, yeah. I know that we all grew up differently and that my childhood isn’t really an option, but that’s what I want, what we want. We want him to be able to be a kid, you know? I don’t want him to be used to cameras everywhere he goes. I don’t know how we’d fix that, but that’s definitely my top priority right now. And forever probably.”

His hand finds Emma’s knee, thumb running back and forth over the material of her leggings while she speaks. He’s here with her, for her, consistently, and he hopes that she knows this.

“Why don’t you two give me some time to think things over? I’ll meet with security. We’ll work out some plans and ideas. You two should probably talk to Liam and Abigail. It’s not, well, it won’t be exactly the same. You have more freedom than them, and they’re not quite as private as the two of you. But they do have experience in all of this.” “Thank you, Brennan,” Emma sighs, leaning back into the couch and scratching at his neck, his eyes fluttering closed for a quick moment.

“Of course, but at the end of the day, above everything else, we’re a family. How you two feel is far more important than any sort of duty and tradition we have, even if I do ask that we stick to the important ones.”

“Actually, I have something else that I want to talk about.”

His head snaps to her, eyes searching for what she has to say, but she’s not looking at him, her gaze trained on the wag of Indy’s tail while her fingers tap over his on her leg, the hand in his hair having stilled.

“What do you want to talk about, love?”

She looks at him then, the smallest of smiles on her face that comforts him the slightest bit, before directing her gaze to Brennan. “I don’t want to walk out of the hospital all made up hours after giving birth. Kudos to Abigail. She is a badass woman for that, but that’s not what I want. Andy doesn’t need to be exposed to so many people as a newborn. I don’t need to be all dressed up when I’ve just given birth. I don’t care about tradition when it comes to this. This is what I’m doing, and I really feel like it’s the first step in taking a stand about him not being some kind of public property.”

He didn’t know she felt that way about any of that, nearly every word she said news to him, but he gets it, supports it. If that’s what Emma wants for this, that’s what they’ll do. He’s never quite understood that tradition anyways, and he likes the idea of a more private celebration with just them and their families while Emma heals and they adjust to the terrifying process of being parents for the first time.

“I’m not sure we can do that, dear.”

“What?” His head snaps over to his dad, trying to process the words. “You literally just said that how we feel is more important than any duty we have.”

“But that we need to stick to the important traditions, yes. New family members are an important tradition.”

“Brennan,” Emma grits, her voice strained as she tries to keep it friendly, “I respect our family and all of the traditions we have, but I am not some kind of human machine who’s only here to produce babies. Yes, of course this is a big deal, but it’s a big deal for us as a personal family, not as some part of the institution. You can still put the sign up, make any and all announcements you want. Hell, I’ll release a picture if we have to, but all I’m asking is that we’re allowed to leave and travel home in peace.”

“I agree, dad. I mean, really. Of all of the things we break and bend, of all of the things we change, surely you can let this one thing go? It’s not hundreds of years ago where people are faking pregnancies and paternities to keep the line intact, which was ridiculous then. I think letting family be family is the most important thing, don’t you?”

“Aye, it’s just…you’ll have to forgive me.” Brennan runs his hand over his face, visibly warring something within himself, the lines on his face stressing. “You were right earlier when you said things are different now. These are not things that I really went through with you, not as prevalent as you. Emma, dear, I’m sorry. I don’t…I shouldn’t have ever considered making you do something you’re not comfortable with. I love you dearly, and you and Killian know what’s best here, not me.”

“I don’t want to disappoint you,” Emma says, getting up from the couch and sitting down on the edge of the coffee table so that she can squeeze Brennan’s hand. “You are so brilliant, and you uphold this family so well. I know that I’m different, that it was difficult to accept me, but change can be good, you know?”

“I know.”

Brennan stays for a little while longer, hashing out a few more details with them before accepting a cup of tea and some food, finally listening to them talk about their holiday all the while scratching behind Indy’s ears, her eyes closed in bliss the entire time. It’s peaceful, relaxing, and he feels his shoulders loosen the longer the conversation goes on, Emma’s laughter and joyful voice sounding throughout the room. In the back of his mind, though, he keeps replaying the conversation, thinking of everything he said, everything they all said, and he’s amazed it all went as smoothly as it did, surprised that his father acquiesced to their private exit from the hospital so easily. He had no idea that Emma wanted that, and he wonders how long she’s been toying with the idea, how many late nights she’s spent worrying about bringing it up. He knows she didn’t just think of it now, that it wasn’t spur of the moment, and he tries to remind himself to ask her about it later, to make sure that there’s nothing else she’s hoarding inside.

She goes through enough, has gone through enough over the years, and she shouldn’t feel like she has to hold things back from him.

But he saves his thoughts for later, letting his dad leave and letting Emma take a nap, her eyes falling shut without her even laying down on the couch. He wakes her before she can get into too deep of a sleep, though, knowing that it’ll hurt her back, and helps her go upstairs to their room, ignoring the curses she’s muttering under her breath about him waking her up. While she sleeps, he goes downstairs to his office, answering emails and clearing out his inbox that he left alone while they were in Spain.

Summer is normally a slow time for them, June and July full of engagements while August is usually taken off to spend in Balmoral. Emma’s due in September, though, a few days after his birthday, and she’s not working after August begins. He is, though, doing his regular work and making a few short trips, making sure never to never travel more than three hours away in case he needs to be home.

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have things to do now, organizing his files and reviewing the financials for Kidding a Goal until Indy comes walking into his office, her nails clicking against the wood until she’s staring up at him with her mouth wide open, tongue practically falling out of her mouth. He checks his watch and sees that it’s far past seven. He’s surprised she didn’t come and get him two hours ago.

“You ready to eat, my girl?”

That gets her tail wagging before she takes off, running toward the kitchen at such a pace that she’s probably there before he even gets up from his chair. Sure enough, she’s already waiting next to her bowl like the most well-behaved dog in the world, which is not something he expected when he and Emma decided to get a dog last year. But she’s done well, their training working most of the time, but Indy does have the tendency to lick his face when he’s sleeping. He’s not a fan of that.

But she’s his best bud and a constant companion on his runs, so it all evens out.

After feeding her, he hears footsteps coming down the stairs, Emma wandering into the kitchen with sleep-rumpled hair and pillow streaks on her face, her pajama top falling off of one shoulder. She immediately heads toward the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and some yogurt before settling down on a barstool.

“How’d you sleep?”

She grunts in response, opening her yogurt and eating a large spoonful. “I hate being pregnant sometimes.”

“So not well then?”

“Nope. I felt like my guts were all being squeezed out, but do you know who’s not moving now that I’m awake and out of bed?”

“Andy.”

“Yep.”

She keeps eating her yogurt, quickly finishing it up before getting another carton. He should probably fix something for dinner so she doesn’t consume the entire yogurt supply in their fridge.

“Hey, sweetheart?”

“Yeah?” she mumbles, pulling her spoon out of her mouth and looking up at him, her hair deflating the slightest bit from when she came down.

“You want to tell me what that was earlier? With my dad. When did you decide you didn’t want to do the public announcement?”

“Oh, um, I first thought about it a few weeks ago, but it was really driven home after last week. Why? You have an issue with it?”

“No,” he laughs, leaning down across from her and propping his elbows on the counter. “I think it’s bloody brilliant, that you are brilliant. I like that you want to do things your way…our way. It’s very sexy.” “Oh boy, if you’re looking to get laid right now that is not happening.”

“Well damn. Now I have no reason to compliment you.”

“Shut up,” she groans, tossing her spoon over into the sink, the metal clanking. “But seriously, you’re okay with all that, right?”

“Of course. I want you to do what makes you comfortable. I’m not the one giving birth.”

“Damn right. I think I’m going to give your dad a heart attack though.”

“Aye, definitely. I know he’s trying and he’s being accommodating, but I could practically see the fear of breaking traditions rolling off of him in anxiety-filled waves. But he’s seventy-three. Some things just aren’t going to change.”

“So basically we hit the jackpot today?”

“Yep.” He walks over to the fridge, opening it up and seeing what they have left over from before they left. “What do you want for dinner?”

-/-

“Bloody buggering hell,” he curses, bringing his thumb to his mouth and soothing where he just jammed his finger on the wood.

Building a crib should not be this difficult, but it apparently is. He’s been following the instructions exactly, making sure that each piece is doubly secure, and he’s not sure how it’s taking this long. He should be finished, this crib should be made, and he should be able to move onto the shelves or Emma’s glider that she was insistent on them getting.

He’s spent more time in this room in the past month than he has in any other room in the house, June somehow running away with itself all while he’s been hidden away within these four walls. It took a month and a half for he and Emma to decide on a simple light gray, one that he’s pretty sure is also in their bedroom, but honestly, once they both agreed on the color (likely because they have agreed on it once before), he wasn’t going to say anything else. He did pick out the gray-ish blue that’s on the wall with the shelves (or at least where they’ll go once he gets to them), so he’s pretty proud of it.

Neither he or Emma are much one for designing, though they have gotten a bit more into it since the remodel of the apartment, but he’s pretty proud of how Andy’s room is shaping up, even if the lad will stay in the bassinet in their room for awhile. It’s a simple room, clean lines and clean colors. All of the furniture are different shades of white and warm browns, woods really, with natural accents. Abigail gifted them a large wooden giraffe along with some leaf and animal prints, so those are sitting in the corner waiting to be placed after all of this furniture is built.

His favorite part, though, is definitely going to be the little sitting area by the shelves and the changing table. He’s not under any impression that this is going to be a calm room, a place to relax, but he figures there have to be times when he’s rocking Andy back to sleep in that very spot, the shelves filled with colorful children’s books that’ll become routine reading one day as well as being filled with several stuffed animals and photo frames that he can’t wait to update with pictures. Of course, the cabinets below will be filled with the essentials, the things no one likes to talk about like diapers and nipple cream (that was something Emma did not want to know about, and he honestly doesn’t blame her), but they’re definitely still in the dreamy, picture perfect nursery phase where the messiness of a child isn’t quite a factor.

Really to him, as much as he knows this is real, as much as he sees the physical proof, feels the physical proof (which holy shit is it incredible to be able to feel his son move), it’s still difficult for him to comprehend that in two months he and Emma will have a child. It’s something they’ve talked about for years, something they were planning on, but it’s difficult to put into words just how much love he has for his son.

And his wife.

She’s a rockstar in every sense of the word, and if he doesn’t mention it enough, Emma sure as hell will. He loves her fiercely, and that love is another thing that he can’t quite put into words. He honestly doesn’t understand men who moan and groan about their wives constantly. If anything, he finds it disgusting. Yes, you’re going to have disagreements with your significant other. That’s natural when you decide to spend your life with someone who has their own wants, needs, and opinions, but at the end of the day, his wife is his best friend. If there’s anyone he wants to spend time with, it’s her. No question.

If the answer to who your best friend isn’t your spouse or the person you’re marrying, he doesn’t understand why the hell you’d bother getting married. His mates are great, but they’re not Emma.

Maybe he is a bit of the cheeseball that Emma always claims him to be, but he likes it that way.

He’s definitely going to embarrass his kids. All of the time. He can’t wait. He’s got a few years, but he can’t wait.

“You know we can hire someone to do this, right?” Emma asks, a bit of laughter in her tone that makes him roll his eyes. His best friend, most definitely. The teasing is just a small part of that.

“Aye, but I’ve started it, and I intend on finishing it.” “Okay, but the crib doesn’t need to fall apart while there’s a baby inside of it, and the glider doesn’t need to fall apart while I’m sitting on it. That’s, like, a double disaster, and I know you lived by yourself for a long time, but I’m pretty sure you’re not capable of that anymore.”

“Oh, really? Because I was just going to make them as unsafe as possible so that I could live by myself again. I miss being able to stretch out in the bed.”

“You’re so funny,” she teases from the other side of the nursery where she’s putting away the washed clothes in the closet, organizing them by size. He swears they have enough clothes to last Andy for the first two years of his life, and that’s not counting the piles of things he knows David and Mary Margaret have at their house. “I think I may have bought him too much stuff. I don’t even think I own this many things.”

“You don’t mess your clothes up multiple times a day.”

“Good point.”

“I tend to make those.”

“Eh. Debatable.”

“Not at all debatable.” He turns back to the crib, looking at the instructions to see if he can remember where he left off before Emma distracted him. “Shit, this is impossible.”

“I can call my dad, babe. It won’t be a problem. He’s a bit handier than you.”

“Please, I am plenty handy.”

“Okay, well being handy with me is not the same as being handy when it comes to building things.”

“If we call your dad, he’s going to take over. I want to do some of this myself.”

“I will tell Dad just to help. Come on, babe, you love spending time with my dad.”

“Only now that he doesn’t give me the scary speeches anymore.”

“Yeah, I bet those were a lot of fun.”

“I mean, it’s been a solid half a decade since I’ve gotten one, but he still shakes me to my core.”

He hears Emma laugh, snort really, before she makes her way over to him, slowly settling down on the floor next to him and waving her hand until he gives her the instructions. She looks over them while looking at the crib, her eyes continuously darting between the two.

“You put part G in backwards. That’s why nothing after that is fitting.”

“Bloody hell,” he curses, reaching over and taking the instructions from her hand and checking to see if she really did just solve his problem, “how did you see that when I’ve been staring at it for the past hour?”

“Fresh eyes, my love. Fresh eyes.” She leans forward and kisses his cheek before falling back against the wall. “And that’s exactly why calling my dad and asking him to come over in the morning will be a great idea. I bet Mom will want to come too, and she does a mean job with a power drill.”

So Emma calls her parents who agree to come over in the morning. On top of moving, they’ve also begun to change around the hours of the pub, opening it earlier and letting Will close it out at night. And it’s because of this that they show up at eight in the morning, he and Emma both still asleep when their doorbell rings. Emma groans when she hears it, burying her face into his chest and making it impossible for him to get up without disturbing her. He can feel Andy summersaulting around in her belly, and he smiles to himself knowing that she’s going to have get up. She can’t sleep when he’s moving around like that.

He can’t sleep when Emma’s basically running marathons in bed, but that’s not something he’s going to voice out loud. He can get up and sleep in a guest room if he needs to. Emma can’t get up and walk away from the person who’s running marathons in her stomach.

There’s two human feet inside of her. That’s pretty weird if he thinks about it too much.

Okay, so really weird.

Slowly but surely he gets out of bed, letting Emma flip over into his spot, and heads downstairs to open the front door. David and Mary Margaret have a key, but they never use it, always waiting for either he or Emma to open the door for them, which he appreciates after one too many times having them walk in on he and Emma.

“Hi,” he greets, opening the door and ushering them inside. “Emma’s still asleep, but I’m sure she’ll wake up soon. Do you guys want some breakfast?”

“We ate at home, sweetie,” Mary Margaret greets, giving him a quick hug before David does the same. “So Emma said you guys were having some issues in the nursery.”

“I believe that it was more like Killian not being able to put together a crib in under three weeks.”

“So funny, Dave,” he bites, rolling his eyes and locking the door. “I did eventually figure it out. I just think this mid-July heat is obviously getting to me. Or maybe nerves. I’m not too sure.”

“Well, let’s go help then. We’ve got to be at the pub at two, but I think we should be able to get things done.”

After he fixes himself some coffee, not nearly as wide awake as David and Mary Margaret, they head upstairs and begin working in the nursery, assembling the shelves and drilling them into the walls in half the time that it would have taken he and Emma had they done this by themselves. So maybe help isn’t all bad. Before Emma even wakes up, they have the shelves installed and pictures securely nailed on the wall. There are books already being stacked, stuffed animals and knick knacks being placed, and all of the fun nipple creams and breast pumps being placed in the cabinet.

They’re working on the glider when Emma finally wanders in, her hair falling out of its band so that half of it spills down her back while the other half is piled on top of her head, and she’s got her glasses on, something she only does when her eyes feel too puffy to put her contacts in.

“Hey, sweetheart,” David greets, finishing tightening the screw he’s working on before getting up to embrace Emma. “How are you feeling?”

“Rough today. I think the little dude’s a giant or something because he crushes my lungs and my bladder at the same time. So I can’t breathe, and I have to pee. So, yeah, it’s fun.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks, dad. It looks fantastic in here. You guys have done so much. I feel like we’re not going to have anything to do in the next two months if we finish all of this.”

“That’s kind of the point, love.”

“Yeah,” she yawns, covering her mouth, “I know. Mom, do you want to come and rest with me in my room? My back hurts today, and I just can’t sit on the floor in here with you guys.” “Of course, hon,” Mary Margaret answers, walking away from the closet and stepping over to Emma before she rubs up and down her back. “Are you sure you don’t want Killian to join you? David and I would be fine to work on our own.”

“No, it’s fine. I bug him all day, and I’m kind of thinking that you can paint my toes for me or we can watch movies or something. It’s been awhile since we’ve done that.”

“Text me if you need me, love,” he tells Emma, his eyes tracing over her in a bit of concern. It’s difficult watching her be uncomfortable or miserable on some days when he literally can’t do anything about it.

“Yeah, babe, I will.”

Emma and Mary Margaret walk out of the room, their voices fading away as they walk into their bedroom one room over, and he’s left with just David who promptly gets back to work finishing building the chair. Music plays in the background, an eighties’ playlist he thinks, and it doesn’t take longer before the chair is completely together and he’s sitting in it testing it out. It’s comfortable, probably one of the best seats they have in the house, and he can definitely understand why Emma insisted on this one after shopping around a bit.

“How does someone so small have so much stuff?”

“My child is twenty-eight years old, we don’t even live in her childhood home anymore, and I swear things of hers still pop up all of the time.”

“That’s likely because Emma leaves everything all over the place.”

He folds his hands behind his head, closing his eyes and rocking back and forth while Cherry Bomb plays in the background, which is definitely not a nursery appropriate song. Or maybe it is. Who needs Mozart when you can have The Runaways?

“So is Emma like that every day?”

“Like what?” he asks, popping an eye open to look at David who’s sitting against the shelves, which can’t be good for his back. God, how old is he getting if his first concern is for someone else’s back?

“Exhausted.”

“No, not every day. She’s usually got a hell of a lot of energy, even if there’s always a nap. I think she had a restless night. She’ll tell me like it is, though. If she’s having a bad day, she’ll let us know.” “What about you?”

“Well, I don’t have a baby crushing my lungs and my bladder.”

“True,” David laughs, running his hands through his short hair. Killian swears it’s gotten more gray in the past year, the blonde nearly disappearing. David is only fifty-two, so he’s not exactly older. Hell, if it weren’t for the wrinkles on his forehead and the gray hairs outnumbering the blonde, he’d look much younger. “But I remember being a dad for the first time. It’s terrifying, so you’re allowed to be scared.”

“I am. It’s…” He reaches up and scratches behind his ear, his hair getting long enough that he knows he needs to get a haircut soon. “Emma and I try to make sure that we keep up our normal routines, that we have our normal conversations without talking too much about the baby, but it’s kind of hard, you know? It’s like we’ll be talking about going out to eat and two minutes later we’re making a list of middle names or speculating if he’s going to look more like me or Emma.”

“I know. But it’s an exciting time, Killian. There will never be anything like it, and if you want to talk about the fact that you’re having a kid, you should. You and Emma have been together for so long, and I really don’t think your relationship is going to struggle if you’re not sitting around making references no one else understands for hours on end.”

“Oi,” he protests, resisting the urge to pick up the toy elephant next to him and throw it at David, “that is your daughter you’re mocking, and she can still kick your ass.”

“Trust me, I know. Who do you think raised her to be like that?”

“Mary Margaret.”

“You’re walking a thin line.”

He winks at David, his lips ticking up on the right into a smirk. “I know. You and Mary Margaret did such a good job, still do such a good job, and even with all of the times you’ve messed up – ”

“ – which is a lot more often than even Emma has probably told you.”

“I just…you’re a good dad, Dave. To Emma, to me. I hope I can do half as good as a job.”

“You’ll be great, Killian.” David smiles at him, something genuine, and Killian’s reminded of how much David really has impacted his life in all of the best ways. “I promise. And as much as I love you, I do love my little girl more, and she’s going to be amazing. She’s always…she’s never been too open to a lot of people, but the people she loves, she loves so fiercely, you know? And she’s already doing so well at being a mom. She’ll call me at nights, and I can just hear the happiness and excitement in her voice. At the end of the day, that’s all you want, you know? For your kid to be healthy and happy.”

“Yeah, I know.” He smiles to himself, thinking of how happy he is. “Also, how dare you imply that you love your own daughter more than me. I thought I meant more to you than that. I thought we had something special, man.”

“I can still give you hell. I’d watch yourself.”

He and David finish up in the nursery for the next few hours until David and Mary Margaret have to go to work, leaving after the three of them eat lunch down in the kitchen, Emma staying upstairs for a nap. When the Nolans are gone and he’s finished eating, he heads upstairs, bypassing the nursery and walking into their bedroom where Emma is sitting up on the bed watching TV.

“Your toes look nice,” he compliments, grabbing onto her big toe and moving it back and forth. “Do you feel any better?”

“Yeah,” she sighs, twisting onto her back and scooting up the bed, “it’s just one of those days, you know? I’m not usually this miserable.”

“I know, but it’s okay to have bad days, love.”

“Come here,” she tells him, crooking her fingers and motioning toward him before she turns on her side and wraps her arms around her pillow. He does as she asks, kicking off his sneakers and crawling up into the bed, the mattress moving against his weight until he’s pressed up behind her, his knee stuck between her thighs and his arm wrapped around her waist while the other rests above her head. This is how she’s been comfortable lately, and he can’t say he minds. “Did you guys get a lot done?”

“Aye, it’s almost all finished.” He moves her hair off of her neck, placing a kiss there before resting his chin on her shoulder. “It just needs your finishing touches, I think.”

“And we have to unpack all of the boxes that are in the guest room and put them away in the closet.” “That too, but we’ve got time, Emma.” She hums, and he can feel the vibrations as well as Andy moving around under his touch, the movements following how he taps his fingers. “Has he been active today?”

“Not since I woke up, but he always responds to your voice.” “Yeah, he recognizes me?”

“Of course, you talk so damn much. How could he not?”

He turns his head and presses a kiss against her jaw, biting a bit just to tease her. “You are not a very nice woman, my love.”

“Oh please, I’m, like, the seventh nicest person you know.”

“Seventh?”

“I figured it was conceited to put me at number one.”

“Possibly.” He moves his hand against her stomach again, snaking his fingers up under her pajama top so that he can feel the warmth of her skin. “So he really does get more active when I talk?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty weird to think about, but it’s true. He likes when you talk. I think it’s because you’re a much better story teller than me.” “I mean, obviously.”

“And that he’s probably just glad to hear someone else besides me. Imagine being stuck with someone for nine months. Good God.”

“Well, I’m stuck with you for forever. Good God.”

She groans and curses him under his breath before she scoots over and turns in his arms, slowly but surely moving to face him. “Don’t be an asshole. Also, so I was talking to mom today, and she wants to be called Mimi. I think Dad wants to be called Papa, which I like as long as that’s not what you want. I know that’s what some kids call their dads.”

“Aye, it’s what Lizzie calls Liam, which is weird since Alex doesn’t do that. But I’m okay with dad or daddy, so David can be called Papa.”

“Yeah, I kind of like it. Mimi and Papa. And then your parents are Gammy and Grandpa, right? That’s what Alex and Lizzie call them.”

“Aye, but I know Mom didn’t want to be Gammy. It’s just what happened. She says it makes her feel old.”

“Your mom is not old.”

“I know, but considering your parents are barely fifty while my parents are in their sixties and seventies, it doesn’t help.”

“I’ll tell my parents to get older then.”

He smiles at her before closing his eyes and settling into his pillow, letting his head sink down into the softness. It’s calming in here, the lights turned off and curtains closed while the ceiling fan hums a steady rhythm above them. He could fall asleep like this even if he’s not the biggest fan of naps, always somehow ending up groggy when he wakes up, and it doesn’t help with the way that Emma is playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, her fingers scratching into his scalp.

“Are you working tomorrow?”

He pops an eye open, looking at Emma and smiling when her nail hits a particularly sensitive spot on his neck. “Aye, I’ve got the Investiture ceremony at ten. Why?”

“Just wondering. I was thinking we could go somewhere. Just us. Maybe take Indy to Berkshire and let her run around, spend some time outside.” “We can do it in the afternoon, if you want. I think the weather is supposed to be nice.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, leaning forward and sliding her lips over his for a brief moment, “I think that would be nice.”

The next day after he’s finished with the ceremony, he hurries home, changing out of his suit and into shorts and a t-shirt, slipping a baseball cap onto his head and grabbing something to eat for lunch while Emma does the same, her hair falling out of the back of her hat in a long ponytail. They’ve got all day, but the afternoon’s weather is pleasant enough that he’d like to go now so they can stop by a café for dinner, even if that’s the absolute last thing that Thomas will want them to do.

They want their privacy, but they should be able to go out to dinner.

So he and Emma load up into his car, letting Indy sit in the backseat with the window rolled down so she can feel the mid-July breeze blow through her fur. It doesn’t take long to get to Windsor, pulling into their parking garage less than thirty minutes later, and instead of going inside like they’d usually do, he hooks Indy up to her leash while Emma grabs some water bottles and they head to the private gardens, avoiding the visitors wandering around on tours.

As much as he prefers the spring, mild July days are near the top of his list of favorite things. Everything is brighter, more pleasant. The grass is actually greener, the flowers contrasting against their background to create a landscape of whites and shades of purple, while everything is covered in a clear blue sky, only a few white clouds scattered throughout. New life blooms, and he gets to be the one to appreciate it, to revel in it. England can be so dreary sometimes, the weather somehow reflecting the moods of most people on their morning commute to work, so he appreciates when it’s not. He’s always loved the outdoors, and if there’s any complaint he has about his home, it’s the small private garden that they have to themselves. He’d like something larger, more space to run around, and sometime in the future, he and Emma plan to spend more time in Bucklebury so that they have the privacy.

That’s what they’ve decided on since returning from Spain last month. There’s been more lengthy, draining discussions with his parents and their security team than he’s ever wanted, and as much as he feels like they haven’t really accomplished anything, he knows it’s a slow process. Of course, there are drawbacks to every positive. They’re still going to have to spend most of their time at Kensington. It’s closer to their work, to their families. Hell, Emma’s parents just bought a house so that they could have the ability to spend time with their grandchild, and now they’re going to move away from them. It’s less than an hour drive, but it’s not nearly as close as they currently are.

But everyone understands, and they don’t plan on moving any time soon, not until Andy’s a bit older. They want to be near all of their loved ones when he’s younger, and they’ve spent so much time working on their home, making it exactly how they want. It’d be difficult to leave full time, so it’ll be nice to have the option of both.

It’ll be even nicer to give Andy the most normal life that they can possibly give him.

Emma whistles next to him, her fingers between her lips, while Indy runs back to them from where they let her loose. She was about five seconds away from jumping into a pond full of fish, and as much as they’d usually let her swim, they don’t need to have a wet dog with them for the rest of the day. So she runs back to them as quickly as she can, her legs leaping in the air with her black and white fur bouncing the slightest bit. He’s convinced that she shouldn’t be able to be that quick, but she’s still just a young dog, less than a year old, and though her legs will get longer, he doesn’t think she’ll ever be full of this much energy again.

If she is, he and Emma are definitely in over their heads.

With the dog.

He’s going to choose to not think of what it’ll be like with a toddler than can run and a dog that he can run after.

After she calms from her almost pond dive, Indy walks along in front of the two of them, occasionally wandering off the stone path to sniff around in the plants, nearly tearing up several flowers until they call her back to keep walking. They stay wandering for a little over two hours, not caring where exactly they’re going or if they’re circling back around in the same spots. Indy and Emma get tired around the same time, so they settle down onto a stone bench with a patio cover that’s next to another small pond.

In the distance, he can see the Chapel where they were married, the steeple rising up above the other buildings and stone walls, and he smiles to himself thinking of that day. In the grand scheme of things, he knows that when it comes to he and Emma, as important as it was, they had so many smaller, inconsequential days that he holds just as fondly in his heart.

But that was a pretty damn good day.

He stretches his arm out over the back of the bench, wrapping it around Emma’s shoulder and tangling his fingers into the ends of her ponytail while she leans her head on his shoulder, the bill of her hat hitting him in the chin for a brief moment. He’s glad she suggested them getting away from London for a little bit, for suggesting that they change up the routine and spend a day enjoying summer, especially since they’re missing out on Scotland with the rest of the family.

A month in the same place as everyone is likely a bit long, anyways. He loves his family, but that’s a lot for anyone.

“I love you, you know?” Emma asks out of nowhere, her gaze never falling away from the rippling of the water in front of them, a fish leaping up out of the water while the lily pads float around.

He squeezes her shoulder, rubbing up and down her arm and kissing her head even if she can’t feel it through the hat. “I know. I love you too.”

#second in command #cs ff #cs fic #captain swan fic

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detectivehole · 5 years

Note

Go comic feral, i followed this blog for a rEASOn and it's bc i like to hear your random vents and rants and also you reblog cool stuff. But i digress, go comic feral i am hERE for it

fine

PETER PARKER BEING RICH IS STUPID he didnt even ern what he has himself it was nt even himn he wasnt in his body maybe if i had got to see him start fron nothing to being a cool ceo or whatever id be able to stand it but nooooooo he just GOT is for nothing so it feels stupid like “ha ha what if like tony stark haha” its DUMB and i haven’t read a spider man comic for a long time

deadpool/spiderman crossover comic bad. feels out of character a lot. funny concept and full of funny jokes but as far as characterization its bad in my opinion- was made to capitalize off the hype of the ship and we all know it

don cates should be banned from writing comics bc he fucking sucks and ill never forgive him for what he did/tried to do to venom

deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good dea

the venom movie was a lot of fun but it was very ooc a lot HOWEVER seeing some of the cut scenes and scripts you can see that it used to be actually fairly in character for the comics but a lot of scenes with eddie establishing himself as not actually the most nicest of guys (not that eddie isnt a nice guy deep down but he is a good amount fucked up with a big ol hero complex and a problem with ‘i can do no wrong” mentality sometimes) were cut and considering how the fandom for the movie treats him i can see why the cut those bits out bc i dont think movie goers would have liked him as much wich is a shame bc he is a good guy at the end of the day just fucked up

straight white male comic fans are the worst people in the world and breaking their fingers is a daydream i indulge in

matt murdock is a himbo

foggy nelson is a good man who deserves better friends

i can tell what deadpool comics someone has read based on how they characterize wade in their fan works and i have a 80% success rate with it. the most common was the daniel way run but now its the spider-man/deadpool crossover series

soulda used miles for the mcu spidey instead of cannibalizing his story for parts like they did. dick move, Disney

mcu bad

i think just the idea of dc’s Red Tool is fucking hilarious but i dont like his character at all

batman and superman should fuck but they wont :/

matt and foggy should to but the comic industry is afraid of making long running characters lgbt bc theyre WEAK

deadpool need a canon bf they cant keep telling us hes pan and not showing us for reals- hell he could just go on one date or be shown having a one night stand or something- something beyond a damn joke

cable gay. no i will not listen to any other opinions.

im excited to read moon knight i have a book waiting i just have to finish my current one

SCUD the disposable assassin is the most underrated comic EVER and i LOVE IT however i think it ended stupid and bad however it went on fucking hiatus for like a decade and then was rapped up really fast so any ending is a godsend

i desperately want a long-form stand alone series abt wanda wilson bc shes the perfect foil for a good Feral Dumbass Woman comic. think abt it; shell sell immediately bc of recognizable brand, and then she can just go on violent stupid adventures without any of the other dp corps. it doenst have to line up with any canon i just want insane lady dp adventure comic. this is an unreasonable dream but mine none the less

i though that agent venom was stupid

tank girl is fucking amazing and i love it i never understand whats going on and i enjoy the confusion

reading early hulk comics feels like watching a weird, poorly produced old black and white sci-fi soap

there needs to be better, more easily accessed, official reading-order guides published and posted on the walls of comic shops everywhere

the 80s and 90s were the best time for marvel comics and no one can tell me otherwise. that was peak comic time

the worst time for comics was the 2000s and early 2010s

sometimes i am shocked by the art that gets the editors pass in comics. some of it is so bad and im not even talking about the disproportionate ladies

the lego marvel and dc movies are way better than the live action movies and im not even being sarcastic

seriously the 2000s made some horrible comics

i feel like committing acts of mass violence every time someone says comics arnt real reading/stories/implies theyre worth less of any value than a novel

i read the first deadpool comic i got so much that the art itself is so ingrained in my mind that people have shown my just the corners of panels and ive identified them correctly

i distinctly remember the first time the woman at the book store stopped asking me for parental permission to buy the comics i was getting (12yos) because i went there so often that she just remembered who i was and that the adult would say its fine

i refuse to talk about comics with people at cons because i am gatekept or flirted with every single time no matter what and there is no in between. and yea its because i have tits. youd think that eventually theyd learn but gross comic men never do and all the others have adopted the same policy as me so the closest i come to positive comic interaction at cons is standing in the same vicinity as another chick, looking at the same section, and the kinda smiling at each other

i think the avengers are boring. really really boring. the x-men are way better

i related to gwenpool too much when she first started and it scared/offended me so i stopped reading for a while until her character developed more and we stooped being so similar

i have spider-man bedding. i picked it out only a few months ago. its good it makes me feel cool in a very uncool way

watching spider-man as a kid made me wanna be a scientist. watching batman as a kid made me want to do martial arts. i ended up failing chemistry and falling on my face a lot instead.

i had a huge venom toy and a huge spiderman toy as a kid and while i did make them fight a lot i also made them hug just as much. i wanted them to be friends

on that note PETER IS MEAN TO THE SYMBIOTE NOW AND HE DONT EVEN HAVE A REASON NO MORE hes just such a dick about criminal reform eddie and the symbiote aint special with this- he says he believes people can be better but he really doesnt show it. he tends to think people are set in their ways and while this makes sense forthe most part considering how much hewas bullied as a kid/adult (that also contributes to his mild “i protect my own” mentality tho at least he consciously fights that one) it stil pisses me off

i can think way more but i need to sleep i think

#wrything

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huphilpuffs · 5 years

Text

flares

chapter: 25/? summary: Dan’s body has been broken for as long as he can remember, and he’s long since learned to deal with it. Sort of. But when his symptoms force him to leave uni and move into a new flat with a stranger named Phil, he finds that ignoring the pain isn’t the way to make himself happy. word count: 3065 rating: mature warnings: chronic illness, chronic pain, medicine a/n: a huge thanks goes to @obsessivelymoody for beta reading this for me!

Ao3 link || read from beginning

Dan wakes up on Thursday to a heaviness in his chest.

He groans before he even opens his eyes. His face is squished against a pillow, his ribs pressed too harshly against the mattress. Stabs of pain burst between them, make his muscles spasm and send his breath escaping in a stutter. He has to count, one, two, three, four to keep it from happening a second time.

It eases some when he rolls onto his back.

And he tries to comfort himself further by counting out how long it’s been since he’s been able to sleep on his stomach. Too long, probably.

He’s been getting better, though. Even staring at the bedroom ceiling through his tears, Dan knows that. Knows the he’s helped Phil with dinner the last few nights, and managed to handle the curtains being open for a few hours yesterday.

His hand smoothes across his sternum, and he pokes at the painful spots in his sides until the sharpness dulls.

It’s enough to let Dan sit up, then stand on shaky knees. He tosses Phil’s pillow back to where it belongs and tucks the duvet into place to prove the voice in his head, wondering why he’s suddenly worse again, that he’s fine.

And to ignore the second voice, telling him it’s anxiety that causes your pain, over and over again.

His appointment is in a day.

Dan’s hardly slept for three.

He tries to swallow back a sigh. Whatever rush of adrenaline had dragged him out of bed has faded, left fatigue settling heavy in his bones again. He could drag himself to the lounge, curl up in his blankets and continue his new daily routine of watching people on YouTube for hours.

But his body aches and his eyes burn, and he crawls back into bed instead.

The voice in his head grows louder.

Dan grabs Phil’s pillow, clutches it ot his chest and presses his face against the fabric, breathing deeply.

It smells like Phil.

He holds it until he falls back asleep.

---

The afternoon drags.

It’s past two when Dan wakes up again. The flat is still empty, the bed unmade again. He crawls out without bothering to fix it, makes himself a sandwich, and settles back on the sofa, where he can rest his head against the cushions and ignore the tightness around his heart.

Every time he turns on his phone, it’s too a notification reminding him he has an appointment tomorrow that has his muscles seizing, making it ache to breathe.

And to a reminder he half regrets setting, since he’s ignored it for days.

Call mum.

There’s only a few hours to follow through with it now.

He glances back at the clock that tells him it’s just ticking past three. Twenty-five hours left, says the voice in his head. It sounds like the last GP he saw, who looked him in the eyes and told him to try acting like he had more energy, who told him it would help.

You should try it, his mum had said afterwards. You never know unless you do.

Dan’s thumb swipes across the screen. He finds her contact, sucks in a breath, and hits the call button.

He doesn’t breathe again until she picks up on the third ring.

“Hi, Dan,” she says.

He hasn’t heard her voice since he decided to stay here. It feels like a lifetime ago, suddenly.

“Hi, mum.”

There’s silence for a long moment. He can hear her breathing over the line, low and steady, and wonders if she can hear the shakiness in his.

“How are you?” she asks

“I’m okay,” he says. “I, uh, have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow.”

“Oh?”

He swallows, nodding even though she can’t see him. “Just with my new GP, but I’m hoping he might be able to help me,” he says. “With, well, you know.”

“I hope he can.”

She sounds sad. It’s been a long time since Dan’s heard that.

“Me too,” he says. And then, because he can’t handle the silence: “But, uh, I was hoping you could maybe help me figure out my medical history, to prepare? I don’t remember all of it from when I first got sick.”

Back when she was responsible for it, he doesn’t say. Back when anyone could keep track of all of it.

“I’ll text it to you, okay?” she says. “I know your memory isn’t always the best, and your wrists tend to ache from writing.”

“Really?” He slams his mouth shut, the click of his teeth probably audible over the phone. “I mean, thanks.”

She chuckles, quiet, distant, like he can hear the miles between them. “I’m not always heartless, you know,” she says.

Dan’s breath comes out in a rush. Guilt bursts in its place, painful, bringing tears to his eyes. And he wants to tell her he never thought she was, but he can’t. She knows he can’t. He doesn’t even know what he thinks about her now, crying, hands shaking as he clutches his phone too tightly.

“Can I ask you something?” she says. “Without you getting mad?”

“Yeah.”

“How are you doing?” she says. “I know you don’t think your problems are with your mental health, and I’m not implying they are–” the not this time goes unspoken “–but I know you’ve had bad experiences with doctors and you’re my son.”

His breath catches. A tear rolls down his cheek, and he wipes it away with his hand.

This is his first appointment without her, he realizes. The first one in six years that she’s not driving him to, waiting outside or sitting next to him for the length of it. The first time she won’t smooth his hand over his knee in the waiting room, telling him it’ll be okay, that doctors can be trusted, even though they’d been proving otherwise for so long.

“I’m okay,” he says. “Phil’s coming with me.”

“That’s good,” she says, like she means it. “I am glad you have him, you know.”

He almost reminds her what she thought of him living with Phil last time they spoke, but his heart aches and his eyes are stinging and he doesn’t want to fight, not this time.

“Me too,” he says. “He’s the best, mum.”

She sounds like she’s smiling when she says: “I’d love to meet him, one day.”

Dan swallows. He can hardly picture it, bringing Phil back to a house filled with terrible memories and people he still doesn’t trust entirely. And yet there’s a tug in his chest, a bittersweet image forming in the back of his mind.

He doesn’t say anything.

Neither does she, for a while.

“I should get going,” is what she ends up saying. “As long as you’re okay? I’ll text you your medical information in a little bit.”

“Okay,” he says. “I’m okay. Thank you.”

She hums. “And Dan?”

“Yeah?”

“You should call your grandma. She misses her sofa buddy.”

He chuckles. It aches. Suddenly, he’s exhausted again. “Okay. I will,” he promises. “And mum?”

“Yeah?”

“No news is good news, okay? If I don’t call you after the appointment, I mean.”

“Okay,” she says. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

The line goes dead.

His head falls back against the cushion and his phone drops onto the sofa. Tears are rolling down his cheeks, and he’s not entirely sure he knows why.

Or maybe he just can’t untangle all the many, many reasons.

---

Phil’s quiet when he gets home.

He takes the smoothie Dan didn’t touch and sets it on the coffee table before dropping onto the empty cushion. His arm is draped across the back of the cushion, his hip just inches from Dan’s, as he turns his gaze to the open laptop, lit up with another Smosh video.

Dan’s been watching them mindlessly since his tears dried on his cheeks.

“This is a good one,” says Phil.

It’s an older one, the production value a little cheaper and humour a tad outdated. Probably more similar to what Phil had watched back at uni, Dan thinks. He tries to imagine it, a younger version of Phil, one with longer hair and a slightly narrower frame, sitting in a uni room like the one Dan moved out of before coming here.

He hardly can. Maybe because his mind is still muddled, hanging onto words he said during the phone call, onto all the things he should have said but didn’t.

“It is,” he says, just as the video ends.

He doesn’t start a new one.

Phil’s fingers sweep across his shoulder. In Dan’s peripheral, he can see Phil turn to look at him, but he doesn’t look back.

“Are you okay?” asks Phil.

Dan swallows. There’s a lump in his throat, a pressure behind his eyes so harsh it aches.

“Didn’t sleep very well,” he says.

Phil squeezes his shoulder. “I know.”

That makes the corner of his mouth quirk up. Of course Phil knows. He was there, arms wrapped around Dan as he fidgeted, tossed, and turned. His hands had combed through Dan’s hair, and his quiet questions about if Dan was okay were mumbled against his shoulder, his reassurance felt in his touch.

Phil usually falls asleep pretty quickly, Dan’s learned. Last night, he didn’t.

The hand at his shoulder tightens. Dan finally turns to face Phil.

“Is that all that’s bothering you?”

His eyes are soft, almost sad, as his hand rubs gentle circles against Dan’s skin. He knows. He must know something’s up. Dan has to remind himself that Phil’s seen him after countless sleepless nights, curled up in soft blankets on the sofa and dozing when his mind gets too tired to keep racing.

Today isn’t like that.

Dan reaches out to rest a hand on Phil’s knee, needing to feel grounded, as the first tear rolls down his cheek. Phil draws him closer, so Dan’s head is by his shoulder, his tears dripping down onto the fabric of Phil’s shirt.

There’s no pressure, none but the weight of Phil’s hand on his shoulder, when Dan says:

“I called my mum.”

Phil goes tense. “Oh,” he say. “How did that go?”

Dan swallows. “I don’t know.”

He really doesn’t. His chest feels too full with contradictions, the weight of past accusations crashing up against her understanding tone and he doesn’t know what to think anymore. He’s never been sure how to exist around her, not since pain first settled in his bones and she told him it was growing pains, it would pass, it would get better.

And it never did.

“I haven’t talked to her since I told her I was staying in Manchester,” he says, maybe as an afterthought, maybe because it’s felt heavy on his shoulders since he answered the phone.

“Was she nicer this time?”

He nods. Another tear falls. “She’s texting me my medical history,” says Dan. “She offered, because she– she knew I had trouble writing and remembering.”

Phil hums. His breath has gone even again. His mouth is close to the top of Dan’s head. He sounds hesitant when he speaks. “It sounds like she cares.”

Dan feels that, sharp and painful in his gut. Another tear rolls down his cheek, and his breath catches, and Phil holds him tighter like he’s scared Dan will fall apart.

Maybe he will.

It’s been so long,

He’s been so that sure she doesn’t actually care.

Now, he doesn’t know what to think.

---

His mum texts him.

Dan almost cries. His teeth dig into his lip and his ribs ache and he stares, wide-eyed, at the list of diagnoses and unexplained symptoms he’s had over the years. There’s the migraines they never treated at the beginning, the lightheadedness it took them four years to explain, the instructions to do more exercise that dot the whole six years that he’s been ill.

The first time he went to therapy, and the antidepressants they put him on, and the second time he went to therapy.

And every time he told his doctor he was still sick after that.

Phil’s hand lands on his wrist, gently pushing the phone from Dan’s line of sight. His voice is barely a whisper when he says: “Are you okay?”

Dan swallows. His throat aches.

Laid out like this, it doesn’t look that bad, a distant voice in his head that’s haunted him for too long tries to remind him that maybe he’s just making it all up. Maybe it wasn’t that bad. But Dan can remember the A&E doctor who turned him away because it was growing pains. Can remember the so many times his blood pressure was low before anyone bothered to point it out.

The time his doctor looked at him and said–

“Can we do something?” says Dan. “I want to– I need a distraction.”

Phil nods. In Dan’s peripheral, his phone screen goes black. The knot in his chest loosens, just a bit.

“Wanna play video games?” says Phil.

He shakes his head. “Wanna go out. It’s been too long.”

Phil’s brows furrow, like he’s about to point out that there’s a reason it’s been so long, about to warn Dan that he doesn’t want to make himself sick before such an important day.

Except part of Dan does. He’s done it before, forced himself to be in pain because maybe that way the doctors would actually see that he wasn’t lying. Not that it’s ever worked.

“Please?” he says.

Phil squeezes his wrist. “Okay.” His thumb drifts across Dan’s, careful and comforting. “Where do you want to go?”

---

Dan squeezes into his skinny jeans, even though the fabric burns his legs. He pulls a shirt over his head for what feels like the first time in forever. Though his knees are shaky, he bends down to tie his own laces, as Phil watches from where he’s leaning against the door.

“Are you sure about this?”

He reaches out, without a word, to help Dan stand again.

“I’m sure,” says Dan. “And don’t worry, you won’t need to take me to A&E this time.”

The corner of Phil’s mouth quirks up, and Dan knows he’s forcing it. He can feel his worry in the too-tight clench of Phil’s hand around his, the way his gaze trips over Dan legs when he wobbles as he stands.

He squeezes Phil’s fingers, forcing a smile of his own, as he opens the door.

It’s warm outside. The sky’s going purple as the sun sinks below the city. Dan realizes, staring up at it, that he hasn’t left the flat since he trip to A&E, hasn’t enjoyed being outside in far too long.

If his joints would let him, he’d suggest they walk around a bit. Instead, he stares up at the clouds and reminds himself to spend more evenings, when the sun won’t burn his eyes, on their little balcony, just to feel the wind against his cheeks again.

Phil tugs on his hand when the cab pulls up in front of them. They pile in, side by side in the back seat. Dan doesn’t put on his seatbelt. He can’t be bothered to deal with the harsh rub of fabric against his ribs.

His chest is still tight, the quiet buzz of anxiety at the back of his mind growing louder. He can still feel his phone, heavy in his pocket, can still imagine the text he hasn’t yet responded to. He can remember their last movie night, laughing and gasping and falling asleep with Phil’s hands trying to massage the pain away.

They hadn’t even gone out last time.

Dan stares out the window and hopes he can keep his promise that it’ll be okay this time.

They slip out of the car at the cinema. Phil pays the driver. Dan leans against the wall as he waits, wondering if the lines inside are long. It’s been so long since he’s been to the cinema, he can hardly imagine it anymore. The screens usually hurt his eyes and the audio gives him a headache and he doesn’t care today.

“You okay?”

Phil’s smiling at him, standing by the door. He holds it open for Dan, and buys their tickets for a random comedy neither of them particularly wanted to see. He lets Dan go find a seat as he buys them popcorn, soda, and a chocolate bar to share. He hands it over, in the darkness of the theatre, with a smile.

Between them, their knees bump together as the film starts.

---

They’re holding hands when it ends.

Dan’s eyes are starting to burn and his chest aches from laughing, but the voices in his head have dulled just enough that he can breathe a little easier. He doesn’t think about the appointment he needs to show up to tomorrow, or the doctor he hasn’t met yet who might dash his hopes all over again.

He stares at their joined hands as the cinema empties, smiling.

“You ready to go home?” says Phil.

Dan shrugs. He probably should give his spine a break by sinking into the sofa again, close his eyes against the bright lights of the city before a headache wells in his temples. But he doesn’t want to sit in the dark and wait until tomorrow, letting his fears return.

“Can we get pizza?”

“You up to walk?”

He nods. Phil helps him to his feet and leads him out of the cinema. He knows Manchester better than Dan does, and tells a story about coming to watch movies with Ian when he was younger as they find the nearest pizza place. Dan listens, maybe more attentively than he needs to, to keep his mind from going hazy as the city moves around him.

There’s still a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Dan wonders if him of a few years ago would have believed that he’d end up here.

The restaurant they end up in is small and quiet, and they slide into a booth in the corner of the room. Dan sinks back against the cushion, realizing that Phil’s smiling, too.

His chest feels warm. His fingers twist in the tablecloth, because part of him misses holding Phil’s hand.

“Thanks for tonight,” says Dan. “I had fun.”

Under the table, Phil knocks their feet together.

“I did too,” he says.

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #flares #callie writes words #sorry I haven't been online much #turns out when irl is going either better or worse than just fine i don't find much tumblr time

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nbnezumi · 6 years

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25-30 w ALL ur dnd charas plus Marshall

im gonna limit it to the ones that have been posted on here because 5x3 is 15 and LONG and also some of them just arent that developed. under a cut because, again, long

25. Favorite animal?

azgen- Oh You Know 🐀

cléon- birds in general, but particularly big colorful ones

marshall- cows because he just thinks theyre neat

26. Expansion of civilization or the preservation of nature?

azgen- they just want things to stay balanced overall, like expanding is fine if its not hurting anything

cléon- definitely preservation of nature, she grew up surrounded by nature and values it for both its necessity to her work back home and because it was here first dont be rude

marshall- expansion of civilization kind of by necessity, like its not safe for most people outside of the domes so in order to have everyone live somewhere safe they need to push outwards

27. They’re at a tavern. They bump into a big burly angry drunk with a combative attitude. What happens?

azgen- 💪💪🐀 but only if the other person actually physically starts the fight

cléon- apologizes and offers to buy them a drink/share her snack to settle things down

marshall- since he bumped into the other person he would say sorry and try to continue whatever he was doing, but if they tried to start something he would say lets take this outside and then after walking out the front door he would just keep walking and leave and go home

28. What do they do between quests?

azgen- azgens been running a fairly successful business for about a century and is not gonna let a little jail time and a move get in the way of that. its pretty much just for fun/hobbies at this point though because adventuring makes a lot of $$$ (that we left on that goblin island because i dont know how factories work but they should be compensated for their work! i hope theyre doing ok...)

cléon- shes entirely out of her depth and is doing the adventure equivalent of nodding and saying yeah when you didnt hear the other person, so shes gonna spend a good while meeting everyone and exploring. she likes to draw maps so she probably draws one of the core/surrounding area

marshall- even before switching to office work it was pretty similar, like monster hunting and desk jobs are stressful in their own rights so a lot of it is stuff that relaxes him... read a book, work on a jigsaw puzzle, play with the gerbils... but also because too much of that is boring he definitely took the car outside and did some things of questionable legality

29. Biggest positive and negative influences on their life and development?

azgen- positive, well both kids were troublemakers but they had a very patient mentor who put up with a lot of their shit until they figured out that actually sometimes learning is cool and actually got down to it. another positive i actually would count is getting arrested because otherwise theyd still be in that hermit hut and i think meeting a bunch of new friends and getting a big ol prophecy is a better direction for life. negative, since there were two of them and they basically did all the same stuff they ended up dividing up/prioritizing things differently which after they werent together anymore left azgen not being able to read common/swim/cook well/etc... also the Chicken Incident which scared both of them so much they still cant face a chicken in the flesh. this cant be used as a weakness against each other just based on the fact that one of them would have to get close enough to one to move it/put it in a trap/confirm its a chicken. and of course the whole gun thing is also a big negative.

cléon- positive, she has a very caring and supporting family! especially her older sister who took her on trips when she was younger and helped her get into music, and her mom who raised her to be polite but take no shit. learning to play an instrument also was a positive because it gave her a good creative outlet which shed been needing for a while. negative, she lived kind of in the middle of nowhere as a young kid and didnt really have perspective or exposure to much, and shes had a lot of responsibility re: her younger sisters handed down after her older sister moved to the city which she didnt really have a chance to get away from unless shes working.

marshall-i dont have a lot of his deeper backstory official yet because i know were supposed to do the shared history bits and ive been planning to get those and then work from there + my skeleton to get the big picture? i get stepping on toes anxiety about storywriting too though so this is partially that sorry. i do figure though that monster hunting as a profession would be a general negative just since its pretty dangerous and doing that as a paid job for a company like with a schedule would be more stressful/less flexible than just doing it freelance. positive, since hes got a less fatal job at the moment hes had a good amount of me time and has got himself right, as much as one can when they live in a dome and probably will go back to hunting monsters in the future. he might have to leave the gerbils with his cousin so he calls her twice a month to make sure she remembers how to take care of them, and also to watch movies. that counts as positive because they have a good time and im running out of things to say!

30. Would they smooch a ghost?

azgen- they have to meet the same standards as any other person but the fact that theyre a ghost wouldnt get in the way

cléon- shed have to understand how someone can exist as a ghost and just how dead they actually are but she would be

marshall- it might be a little weirder than bigfoot but yes you know it

#ghostie answers #dnd3d #idnd #mmotw #azgen #cléon #marshall #lesbian-warlock #asks

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yeoldontknow · 7 years

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if your favourite mutuals had children with their biases, how many children do you think they'd have and what gender would they be?? and how many would you have with your bias??

hi cutie anon! ive had this sitting in my box for a bit just because of the amount of time it would take to focus on it. BUT NOW. I HAVE TIME AND AM SO EXCITED. this is really cute. i saw some of my other mutuals doing this too and aw. in every iteration this is adorable.

OK HERE WE GO! putting this under a cut to not clog dashes

@kollectionn and jongdae i think would have two kids, a boy and a girl. if they werent fraternal twins id think theyd have them close to one another, likely 24-36 months apart so they could play together. theyd raise them well and it would be adorable, like cute teasing by the brother to his sister but c would make sure it never goes far. and their daughter is a total, complete daddy’s girl - just. like. her. mother. i imagine he sings them both to sleep and sunshine handles bedtime stories. wow im soft.

@kpopfanfictrash and jimin would have one child - a daughter. shan i think would probably want another but jimin would be so enamored with his baby girl that hed be like ‘no. you cant duplicate perfection.’ hed probably put her in pigtails and make sure she always has the softest dresses. every trip breeds a whole new stuffed animal and he has to enlist shans expertise in building a castle in the back yard - shan designs and he builds. also horseback lessons come to mind for some reason. just. the cutest little family trio.

@knockknocksoosthere and kyungsoo have two boys. fal really wants a girl at first but the boys are so good and so sweet that she finds she doesnt mind. like their dad, theyre both quiet and bookish, whip smart. one learns to read very quickly and cannot stop speaking. he climbs into the bed to wake fal up and tell her all about how he learned morse code. like fal while the other is worrying if only because he is 4 now, doesnt really speak, but yesterday he programmed the car’s bluetooth so hes probably fine; this boy doesnt have a first word, he has a first sentence. CUTE.

@rudeboywonho and yongguk dont have children but they have three dogs whom they dote on like children. this counts, dont you dare tell me otherwise. lilly is the eldest and she looks after the other puppies. their bed is filled with passionate F*****G and cute doggy cuddles; one of them is named tigger but only because yongguk begged. the other was a christmas gift for nic and was so tiny she fit in the stocking.

@kpopandlock and jongin have a daughter and three dog sons. coulson looks after the baby and the puppies like a proud uncle, and is very worried when the baby cries. nini hums her to sleep while letting coulson stay close to the crib because he is protective and whines if he cant see both of them at the same time. jongin gets very withdrawn on his daughters first day of school but when she comes home, the first thing she says is she missed daddy before launching into stories about her new friends. just like her mother - she is chatty and friendly, and also tells her father about how many dogs she pet on the way to the park. this is nini’s favourite conversation of all time.

@kimnamwho and johnny have three kids, two girls and boy. the house is NOISY but filled with so much laughter. all three of the kids are witty, almost to a fault, but terribly obedient. they have moments of being naughty, but dont receive much discipline because, like their parents, they feel badly if they realize theyve done something wrong or hurt someones feelings. their daughter likes to pick flowers and put them in her fathers hair, while the oldest boy likes to build model cars and hopes to one day be an aeronautical engineer - this will change in one week.

chanyeol and i have one child after a very, very, very long conversation about children as i have spent the better part of my life not wanting any. we have a boy, and my heart literally breaks every time i see him because he has his father’s ears. we may have one child, but we could run a farm with the amount of animals we keep. chanyeol and our son often come home from walks in the woods, or along the creek, with frogs and turtles or rabbits they would like to keep, and i, being precisely the same, never once say no. we are terribly, incandescently happy.

thank you cutie anon! this was fun and ive never been so soft in my entire life.

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thataspdfeel · 6 years

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i really hope this isnt too intrusive but i was wondering if you have any tips on keeping up a good relationship/friendship as someone with aspd? ive gone through so many friends and partners over the years and i always end up alone like i am right now and im honestly lonely and my therapist doesnt really understand because he just said its for the best because abusive behaviour is common w aspd which made me scream and i dont know anyone who actually has aspd either :/

long answer so under a cut

ive kept this in the inbox and stared at it over and over again because of that fucking last bit like

fuck your therapist like deck him in the face. aspd etc people arent inherently fucking abusive thats not how that works. we have a really hard time connecting with people due to low empathy and have low tolerance for bullshit at least imo

oh also dont worry i dont find many things too intrusive. frankly, if anybody wanted to know how to keep a sex life nice, id answer that shit. like i have 0 concept of too intrusive lmao

also if youre lonely id honestly start out with a pet or two. that sounds really weird but if you get used to some asshole who cant communicate living with you, you start to tolerate others more. plus less lonely so win-win

THIS IS GOING TO SOUND HELLISHLY BIZARRE BUT TRUST ME WHEN I SAY THIS: try dating sim games. this isnt to make you less lonely but to help you get better at communicating with others. like this is an actual scientifically studied thing. i cant remember where i found this out cause my memory is bullshit but hubs pointed me to it. its how he managed to keep my attention for so long. he knew how to properly engage with me and keep my interest through practice via dating sims. and when things are stale, he goes back to the dating sim textbook. like brings me flowers or goes back to wooing me AND IT WORKS

thats not to say his feelings arent genuine cause they absolutely are. these dating games just let him interact with me romantically easier for him. especially because hes like the human embodiment of golden retriever puppy with sunshine out its ass and he can EASILY come across as waaaaaay too much and these sims taught him how to tone himself down. whereas for people like us, theyd help us to play ourselves up so to speak. or just generally interact with partners easier

now if actual interaction isnt your problem, that you make friends or get partners easily but have a hard time with the maintenance, now thats a different problem and requires a different solution

first, find people you find interesting. it's so much easier to pretend to give a shit about people when you find them interesting because you actually listen to them when they talk to you. and this sounds like bullshit like ugh why do i have to pretend. well you do. you have to with everybody until you make a connection. the key is to find somebody interesting you dont mind listening to

make sure they dont mind listening to you either or they at least pretend to this is because relationships whether romantic or otherwise all rely on communication and listening to each others problems. ive had a few "friends" who expected all kinds of emotional labor from me but would turn tail or come up with excuses if i needed them. those arent friends tbh. those are leeches and dont keep those people around. also dont be one of those people cause emotional labor should go both ways

communicate. communicate. COMMUNICATE!!! ALWAYS!!! EVEN IF ITS PAINFUL!!! even if opening up is the last goddamn thing you want to do. in order to connect with people and to keep connection alive, you need to open yourself up and be vulnerable. and it can suck! it really can! but you dont have to cut yourself open just for a connection. basically share what youre comfortable with at first

later, once youve established honesty (and honesty is the key here) later, if youve got an issue with them? you can bring it up and be like hey it bothers me that you leave your socks everywhere. or i hate that you seem to only need me when your mom is being shitty. this lets them confront you too about things that make them uncomfortable. and, yknow, change when they mention something (so long as its not ridiculous like you drink too much coke or i hate that you have blue eyes)

AND ON THE HONESTY THING be honest about your dishonesty. what that means is letting the other person know you lie if youre a chronic liar like me. you have to be like ok so i lie a lot and usually its about stupid stuff and heres how you can tell. anybody who gives an actual shit about you will be like oh ok thats irritating but ok. just dont EVER EVER lie about big shit EVER like cheating or something like that (i mean dont cheat in the first place but you get my point)

ive had like an empty bag of chips in my hand and hubs will be like "did you eat the chips" and i'll be like "no?" and it kinda goes back and forth like "i see the bag in your hand right there!" "no you dont" until about half an hour or so later im like "sorry i lied about the chips" and hes like oh its fine i get it. but he knows that while id lie about that or brushing my hair, etc i wont lie about if i took my meds or not etc etc. like be honest about your dishonesty dont hide it or itll create problems for later

let the other person know when you need space. because we all need space at some time or another. be like hey imma need to flake for like a day or so my life is a clusterfuck and i need some time to myself. or, like with one of my partners, im like do you mind if i just chill in the other room with video games/books/netflix/whatever for roughly x amount of time. i let them know its not them (even if it sometimes is at which point, i do let them know later what the problem was) and that i just need to be by myself. and yknow what? its made us all so fucking close when we've told each other when we need space

be honest about needing connection too. sometimes your life just goes all to hell and you need a cuddle buddy or somebody to go to coffee with. its scary making yourself so vulnerable and admitting that but honestly? the payoff is awesome because you have somebody there for you who will hold you through those times. and if they wont? walk the other way

and if it werent already clear, YOU HAVE TO MAKE A RECIPROCAL EFFORT because its not fun to be on anything one-sided. you dont have to magically develop empathy or wanting to be around people 24/7. you just have to make the same effort you expect with others

anyway those are the basics to making things work imo. IF NONE OF THIS IS HELPFUL or not the case for how to make things work for you, message again with specifics and i’ll do my best on the advice thing. just your ask was kind of broad so i answered it broadly

i hope this helps!!

#Anonymous #anon #vannswers #mod vann

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sxpiosexualx · 7 years

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"dreading j0nerys" anon here. Agree w everything you said. If D&D were writing the ending I believe theyd end w a targaryen restoration/truwuv cause they're so far up d@ny's ass but I refuse to believe that's where grrm is leading the story. Like you said, the little details in the book that point towards jonsa need to be there for a reason right? Showwise, there's just nothing there to explain why Jon would like D@ny, lust? eh, possibly but not love, As others have noted, Jon isn't supposed 1/4

to be like every other man, yet we’re supposed to believe that like every other man he’s fawning over d@ny. If you have to spell it out by having other characters say ooh her good heart then you know that your story isn’t convincing but theyve done it before with characters who spend less time together so why is it so hard this time? are you telling me that Kit really cant act in love with d@ny? sure there’s something like chemistry but cant be that hard to smile at someone, to have some kind

of fondness in your eyes. What was the point of Jon’s character if he just because another dude to worship d@ny. really hope that he’s playing her because i refuse to believe that this is where Jon’s story supposed to go, to love a lizard who also killed his bff’s dad and brother. I actually tried reading some fic to try&understand the appeal but these people legit believe that its accurate characterisation to have jon say that he doesn’t care about his family anymore, do they even know jon?

fics a place where you can show your interpretation but don’t say youre doing things according to canon&then have a Jon that doesn’t care about his family cause he’s fucked someone a few times, Jon basically becomes vessel for d@ny’s needs not an equal character. learned my lesson, i guess, that i shouldnt venture to that side of the got fandom. Sorry for/ ignore my huge incoheren rant, just wanted to respond&rant really because I dont have anyone to rant to about this irl. thx for listening

P.s. thanks for your response to my ask/rant. Sometimes I just need to hear it from someone else. I didn’t even get into the whole northern restoration thing in regards to J0nerys cause Ive already spammed your inbox enough and that just a whole 10 page rant waiting to happen and I’ll spare you that :p basically, motto to live by the next 1,5 years: we know no king and queen but the king and queen in the north, whose names are Stark! Now Im really gonna shut up&leave you in peace!

Hello again anon! It’s fine, I totally get it lol. I don’t really have people to vent to irl either, luckily tumblr lets me get involved with the fandom without annoying people who don’t understand the appeal on my other socials/platforms hahaha.

Yeah the progression of J/D really bothered me because I didn’t… see how Jon would find her appealing? You could mark it off as him not meeting the other side of her yet thus the vague “they’ll see you for what you are” line during 7x06 but… still… it’s so ugly to think that Jon would succumb to lust??? Like this is Jon Snow. He’d put duty over love any time, and the only exception is if his family is involved(like him ‘forsaking’ his vows to the watch because of what he thought was arya) which means family means a great deal to him. It always has and always will.

I just… refuse to believe he’d be dumb enough to think it’s a good idea to complicate the alliance especially considering he needs her to ride her dragons soon - why risk a pregnancy??? This is honestly why I’m only gonna accept that J/D happened if it really was Jon trying his best to get her to commit to the cause fully because he knows she’d be invested in him and that’s a better promise that she’ll keep to her word. Like, yes, okay, I get it the show’s made a point to make every single male character fall madly in love with D*enerys because fuck it she’s just TOO irresistible but jesus this is Jon Snow. Jon “I will never father a bastard” Snow or does the show just not give a shit.

Were his targaryen genes just so strong he couldn’t NOT bang her?

I’m really hoping his thought progression went something like:

> okay she doesn’t believe me fuck I need to up my game

> she just went off and burnt her enemies gods I need to protec my fam from this pyromaniac

> oh she’s grown fond of me… ok cool

> fuuuck I got her dragon killed…

> ok I’ll offer her the north but only bc I feel terrible and also hopefully she’ll either decline or spare us since I offered

> hold up she saw the night king and his army and still is occupied by this petty war??? fuck I rlly gotta do something to make sure she’s with me

> ok jon ask her again about how barren she is

> shit shit shit fuck ok I’m doing this I gotta give her the d, do it for the north

because otherwise what the fuck lmfao

#stop killing his character #he already died #anti d&d #not even tagging anything else cause I have no strength to deal with certain people