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reinersbb · 3 years

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𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓 [𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫] Chapter Five- Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy PT.1

Chapter Five Part One of Forget

Orange, black, and purple plastic solo cups littered the dewy grass along with other miscellaneous speckles of trash- some cups still retaining remnants of alcohol. Only ten o'clock at night and there was already a headache of a cleanup worth of mess outside on the front lawn. There was no telling how much worse it would be on the inside where the heart and soul of the party was. But it's not like after-party cleanup would be your problem to deal with.

Carved jack-o-lanterns that were once originally placed along the long walkway leading up to the front door of the frat house were smashed and overturned. Stringy pumpkin guts and seeds clung to the porous pavement of the walkway, some of the pumpkin innards in the grass. A collection of large oak trees in the front lawn were decorated with ominous purple lights. The flickering light cascaded across the grass, bouncing off the glass of littered alcohol bottles.

As you transitioned onto the property from the bustling street of roaming party-goers from different frat homes all around, the music and shouts from within the home ahead of you seemed almost loud enough to shatter its' windows. The base of your heels clicked against the pavement out of excitement as you trailed up the property.

A gust of wind hit your overly exposed flesh, and a chill of excitement tickled your vertebrae. While you were pulling the silk robe you wore over your body to cover yourself, short wolf-whistles from a group of drunk party-goers who'd barely managed to stand up straight caught your attention. The intoxicated faces that wore skewed face paint waved to you, catcalling you, wanting nothing else but your attention, but, you ignored them and continued onto the covered porch. Anywhere away from the blabbering drunk so-and-so's who were floundering in the lawn is a place where you wanted to be.

The front door that belonged to the home was left completely open, and you couldn't tell if the people passing through were coming or going. But you pushed your way through and sure enough, you were finally inside and one with the chaos that was the Halloween party. You already knew that this party was more hectic than the last one you attended.

Spirits were high, and the energy emitting from the room you now stood in practically zapped you.

One look alone at the hoard of people around you had you wishing that you would've at least asked Ymir to cancel her late-night movie date with Historia so they could follow along with you tonight instead. You weren't sure if you could handle a party like this all by yourself.

Managing to shuffle away from the front door, you stood aside and reached for your phone that you'd been holding in your small purse. Taking a quick look around at all the flashy details of costumes, your eyes dug down at your phone screen.

Today 22:46 Hey Jean, I'm here...

Though it wasn't out of spite or pettiness, a handful of hours is how long you left Jean's messages on seen. You decided earlier in the day to take it upon yourself and show up and surprise him with your arrival instead of messaging beforehand so that way he wouldn't expect a thing.

After your message was sent, all you had to do was find Jean. Or he had to find you. Seemed simple enough, but with one look at the crowd, you knew it wouldn't be such an easy task to tackle. Even if Jean was nearby, how would you be able to pick him out of the crowd?

There were many, and if not all, people wearing costumes. Even if by chance you were to know tons of people, they'd be hardly recognizable to you. So trying to catch a face would be worthless.

A singular buzz from your phone had you checking your lock-screen within an instant. Sure enough, it was a response from Jean.

Jean: Where are you?

Just as you were about to start at your reply, the chat bubble from the receiving end disrupted you. But as you watched and waited, the chat bubbles disappeared without any further sign of reappearing.

Then somehow you heard Jean's voice shouting your name over the crowd.

But where?

You couldn't help but look like a maniac as you scanned your surroundings. You were trying to recall which direction you heard his tenor voice last when suddenly two large hands skewed your vision. Instantaneously your hands went flying upward, dropping your phone mid-process as you felt at his wrists as he stood close behind you.

You yelped a response, "Jean!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Jean's hands lowered from your face, allowing you to see clearly once again. "Let me get that," you watched as his hand reached for your phone that was on the ground.

Jean fell into your line of sight as you turned on your heel to face him. Both of you went wide-eyed as both of you took each other in, examining each other's costume. Your phone that was now dangling at his fingertips was almost dropped for a second time out of Jean's surprise.

"Are you... a cowboy?" You managed to make the first remark.

Covering Jeans' head was a worn chocolate brown cowboy hat, along with a matching colored mid-thigh coat. His hair was tucked under the hat, only the ends of his hair billowing out. Though like always, the black studded earrings were still imprinted in both his earlobes. A red paisley bandana covered up the neck of his button-up shirt. Dark faded blue jeans covered his long legs and a large belt buckle hung at his hips. The cuffs of his jeans swamped worn down brown pointed boots. His cheeks seemed to be more defined while somehow his facial hair seemed to be darkened and unruly.

His ruggedness was hot.

Jean cleared his throat before attempting to speak with his best cowboy impressions, "you betcha', cowgirl." Jean paused for a beat, mainly to gather his words, "now, correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm assuming you're dressed as a playboy bunny?"

"Bingo. How do you like my costume? Historia and Ymir helped me come up with the idea."

Promptly, you corrected your bunny ears that'd been pushed out of place from his surprise attack. Jean silently raked your appearance in from head to toe, his tongue caught on his lip as if he were about to say something but he hesitated, almost like he was nervous. Even if he was nervous, he most certainly wouldn't let you know that.

Eventually, he gulped, and through his parted lips he spoke, "I- I like it, your costume puts mine to shame. Also, I think the colors red and black suit you well."

If it weren't for the off-put lighting of different color hues, you would've been able to notice the radiating peach glow on his cheeks.

"Thanks, your cowboy costume isn't so bad either," you teased, tipping the front of his hat down over his brow line. "That's payback for making me drop my phone."

Jean chuckled, lifting the hat from his head, allowing the locks of his hair to fall across his forehead aimlessly. His long fingers ran through his hair, pushing his amber strands back before setting the cowboy hat back on his head.

After the quick readjustment, Jean's eyes were on you, "by the way, thanks for showing up tonight."

"Oh, it's no big deal," you admitted when in reality you'd spent hours getting ready, regardless of how nonchalant you'd made your previous statement out to be.

In the back of your mind, you wanted to look good tonight since you knew Jean would be at the party. You didn't care about the technicalities or the thoughts and ideas people would make of you from your attire alone. But you wouldn't admit it.

You were uncertain for how long you had been staring at Jean for, that and you were also uncertain of close the two of you were standing next to each other until you were randomly pushed from behind by a passerby. Jean of course caught ahold of you as you went stumbling forward. Jean helped stabilize your footing by holding onto your arms.

There was a scowl on his face as he stared off into the crowd, searching for the person who carelessly bumped into you. The disgruntled look on his face was hardly noticeable if you weren't paying enough attention, but sure enough, there was a scowl on his face.

"Are you okay?" Jean's eyes were back on you, "they didn't even stop to apologize to you."

"It's alright, Jean, it's not like I got hurt or anything, and they're probably too drunk to function."

"You know you're probably right," even though it seemed like he didn't want to give up that easily, Jean carefully took ahold of your wrist, "will you follow me?"

You attempted to speak over the blaring background noise, "okay, where are we going?"

Jean turned his head back for only a second so he could respond as he began to walk, "you'll see."

The next room the two of you entered wasn't as packed as the entrance of the house, but still as lively. A table with solo cups at either side was folded out and there were two teams tossing ping pong balls back and forth, taking a drink from the orange solo cups when directed. A hoard of people surrounded the table, but you managed to get a vision of the action.

"Beer pong?" You talked over the commotion, taking a glance at Jean before back at the table.

"Have you ever played before?"

"Back in high school, I've played a handful of times but I completely sucked at the game. I haven't won, not even a single time."

"Let's see if your luck has changed any and see if we can break that losing streak of yours," Jean finally released your wrist to go talk to a man who'd been standing near the game table.

The unknown man was dressed in black pants and a white and black striped shirt, like one of those burglars you see in children's cartoons. Under a black beanie, he had blond hair and was built, his well-toned muscles were flexed as his arms wrapped around his chest while talking with Jean. Next to the blond was a much taller man, who was even taller than Jean by at least two to three inches, who wore a similar costume as the blond.

"Hey! Are you a friend of Jean?" An alto-toned voice called out from your right as you felt a knuckle tap on your shoulder.

A tall man with a freckle-kissed face and chocolate brown eyes beamed at you, his expression was laced with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. His hair was parted and styled like a man from the eighties, and he wore a red puffer jacket over a denim jacket. Instantly you thought he was dressed as Marty McFly from Back To The Future.

"I guess you could say that, yes," you said, unsure if a straight yes or no would be correct.

"Okay, cool! I'm Marco, Jean's best friend. I haven't seen you around before, where did you guys meet?"

"I met him through my mutuals at a party last Saturday-" you paused for a beat, remembering the first actual encounter you had with Jean. "Actually, the first time I ever met him is when I quite literally ran into him. It was horrible, I spilled my latte and everything."

You'd have Jean pay you back for that latte one day, even if you were the one that barged into him. And that was a promise.

Just then, those chocolate brown eyes of his flashed for a split second. His thick eyebrows rose and fell and the corners of his lips struggled to keep from lifting into a knowing smirk.

"Before I forget to ask, what is your name?"

Whenever you told Marco your name, his eyes darted over towards Jean's direction then back at you. There was a weird expression on his face that you couldn't put your finger on, it almost seemed like he knew something that you didn't.

Your eyebrow lifted, "what's the matter, Marco?"

"Marco!" Jean finally reappeared from the beer pong table, almost standing in between you and Marco.

Jean glanced at you and back to Marco.

"Wait, what were you two talking about?" Jean shifted towards you slightly, a shadow falling across his brow from the cowboy hat he was wearing.

His defensive side caused suspicion to arise inside of you. Had he been hiding something from you?

"We-"

You'd attempted to speak, but Marco beat you to it, "nothing, Jean, I was just introducing myself to your friend."

Jean stared at Marco for a few seconds, like he was carefully reading the man with chocolate eyes.

Suddenly, there was a loud cheer, almost like an explosion from the table. Then there was a harsh whistle that zipped through the other commotion which caught Jean's attention entirely.

"Jean! Come on, you're up against me and Bert," the same man that Jean was talking to previously informed.

"Come on," Jean motioned for you to follow him, "let's get you that win."

Across from you stood the same two men who Jean had been talking to previously. Apparently, the blond's name was Reiner and the other went by Bert, or Berty, however, the blond cooed. While Marco stood off to the side of both you and Jean, loaning you his friendly support and cheering both of you on.

As the game commenced, Jean stood close beside you the whole time, giving you a few tips and tricks here and there to help sink the ball. You noted how nice it felt when he held onto your wrist one time to imitate a fake swish. Or how nice it felt when you actually sunk a ball into a cup and Jean would congratulate you by pulling your body against him into a side hug.

You felt at the top of the world, soaring all high and mighty. There was a slight buzz kicking in already from the cups of beer you had to drink, and Jean even decided to help you out with most of them by downing the liquid. He'd pluck the cup up from the table, and before dipping his head back, he'd glance at you with a knowing look with his intense eyes over the brim of the cup.

Your fingers accidentally laced with his momentarily as you high-fived one another after Jean scored your team another point. Soon after your mini celebration was cut short, Jean rolled his eyes whenever Reiner's ball bounced into your team's orange cup. Reluctantly his slender fingers grasped the brittle material and downed the beer.

With the back of his wrist, he wiped the corners of his mouth, "we just need to score the last cup," Jean placed a hand on your shoulder, his excited eyes staring into yours.

"What if I mess up?" You kept your eyes only on Jean.

"You won't."

With that, you sucked a breath in through your nose and exhaled steadily. The music was continuously bumping in the background while you rinsed off your ball in the discard cup. Your chest was thumping, and there was a ringing sensation beginning to sound.

The game was currently tied up. One to one. Reiner and Bert stood adjacent to you and Jean. Both men waved their hands in front of the cup as you aimed for the center.

Once the ball was tossed and in mid-air after its' first bounce, their hands ripped away, and almost as if it were playing in slow motion, the ball landed in the cup. The contents sloshing around slightly on impact as your ball sank into the depths of the plastic. Reiner sighed and plucked the ball out and drank the beer from the remaining cup you happened to score.

An eruption of emotions spilled out of you and everyone else around you. To your surprise, you felt Jean ease his arms around you, swiftly lifting you and spinning you in a victory hug. Naturally, you melted into Jean's touch as he held you up from the ground.

"We did it, Jean! Thank you so much for believing in me."

"It's no problem, I knew that you could do it, but I do enjoy the praise."

If it weren't for Eren walking up and interrupting both of you, the moment of celebration with Jean would've lasted much longer.

You would've preferred that outcome.

"Jean, Marco," A slap on Jeans' shoulder came from Eren, "I've been looking for you two and everyone else, Porco wants us downstairs," Eren was practically already shit-faced.

When Eren's shiny emerald eyes caught ahold of yours, he stopped to smile and greet you. He couldn't believe that he'd overlooked you for that short moment.

"You- a playboy bunny? Damn, if I would've known you'd come dressed as that I would've come dressed as Hugh Hefner," Eren held a bottle pointed at you as he took your appearance in, "don't be a stranger, you should join us downstairs."

"Now, you don't have to if you don't want to."

"It's okay, Jean," you reassured the tall figure, "it sounds like it will be fun."

Your heels clapped against the hard flooring after stepping away from Jean who finally let you back onto the ground. Instead of walking with Jean, you stayed behind him as he walked with Marco, and Eren was already way ahead of the two men. You enjoyed watching Jean and Marco converse from behind, and also you noticed how lively they seemed to be when talking to each other.

Much to your Amusement, you immediately noticed out of the crowd of people in the basement that both Connie and Sasha were wearing matching crayon costumes. Connie was the color green and Sasha was yellow.

"Over here, you guys!" Connie practically fell over his own feet as he grabbed your small group's attention.

Though, another face, another painstakingly familiar face caught your attention.

'Why the hell is he here?'

Floch never showed up to parties, so why now of all times?

You stilled in your tracks, unsure of what to do. Do you approach the group and be awkward because of your ex-boyfriend? Or do you stop, turn around, and head back out instantly without another word spoken?

You noticed when Jean turned his head over his shoulder to look back at you, almost like he somehow noticed or felt a shift in the atmosphere around your group. His lips turned from a crooked smirk from talking to Marco into a slight frown as he gazed at you. Jean paused from marching alongside Marco to glide back and meet up with you.

Naturally, Marco turned on his heel to question what was up and why both of you stopped following, and all Jean did was encourage him to carry on and that the two of you would only take a second.

You appreciated Jean's concerns, but you didn't know what to say to him, what could you possibly say to him without making him uncomfortable?

"What's wrong?" Jean asked as he finally approached you.

"He," your eyes found comfort by staring at the ground you were standing on, "he's here."

"What do you mean?" Jean looked around momentarily before looking back at you, "who's here?"

There wasn't much time to waste, not if you wanted to make your conflicting emotions noticeable to the others who were waiting for all four of you to join them. You definitely didn't want Floch to notice how bothered you were by his presence.

What was he doing here anyway? He never was the one to attend parties, he even said so himself.

"My ex-boyfriend," you spoke dryly, almost unable to be heard if Jean weren't listening well enough.

Without another word spoken, you lifted your head, Jean took the cue to follow your eyes where Floch was seated. You watched as the redhead enjoyed a beverage from his orange cup, laughing at something with a man with short brown hair, whom you didn't recognize.

"Who? That guy is your ex?" Jean asked, paying close attention to you while gesturing towards Floch.

"Yeah, the redhead, I didn't think he'd be here tonight," you exhaled an uneasy breath of air, "he was never the one for parties. God, I don't want him to ruin my night, I've been having so much fun and-"

"So then don't let him ruin your night," Jean took ahold of your hand, interlacing your fingers with his, "I have an idea."

Your eyes flashed with excitement at the hand-to-hand contact with Jean, "what's your idea?"

Jean's stern eyes softened for a split second, almost like he were telling you to trust him. Without any debate on the matter, you swallowed your nerves and squeezed Jean's fingers with your own, embracing the comforting heat of his palm on yours. You could only notice how relaxed your hand was in his, the feeling was familiar and soothing, something you could get used to if given the chance.

"Hey guys," Jean spoke to the large friend group, taking a seat beside Marco on the couch.

The group of people was much larger this time around. You recognized some faces from previous encounters at the last party, while some faces you hadn't seen before, and some were completely unrecognizable due to their costumes. More people were standing idly by away from your group talking to one another, some were dancing, and there were others preoccupied at the wet bar. You noticed that there was a small group huddled around a pool table, but decided to_ ignore_ the pool table.

Without anywhere else to sit due to limited space around, you hesitated briefly until Jean pulled you onto his lap. With a squeal, you adjusted yourself, crossing your legs quaintly as you delicately sat on his lap. This whole time from holding hands with Jean till now you've avoided looking towards the direction Floch was sitting in, but you noticed that his lips had gone still, and movement of his had ceased.

Maybe he was jealous by seeing you and Jean together, hand in hand. But that was a good thing, right?

Jean's large palm draped on your hip delicately, no, hesitantly, almost like he was unsure to touch you. His palm hovered across the material of your silk robe, feeling the intricate indentations of the more risqué undergarments underneath. He didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable by the way he was holding onto you, all he could do was hope you wouldn't mind. But, considering your past encounter with Jean, he thought something so simple as having his hand placed on your hip didn't match up to the extremity of the last personal encounter you two shared.

Connie and Sasha struck up a conversation with you as soon as you were comfortably seated. Jean and Marco casually joined in on the conversation and all five of you sat talking amongst yourselves out of the group of well over a dozen.

There were the occasional cut-ins from Eren or the blond whose name was Armin that you'd seen from yesterday, but you didn't mind. There was also a man who was named Niccolo that appeared from upstairs who joined in, he brought two beers with him and wiggled his way to sit in between Sasha and Connie, mostly leaning into Sasha though as he gave her one of the beverages he'd been holding. The more the merrier you thought.

As long as it wasn't Floch joining in, you didn't mind.

The conversation was cut to a halt when a man with dirty blond hair that was slicked back cleared his throat to speak. The blond wore a black leather jacket, with a white t-shirt underneath and faded blue jeans covering his legs. Sitting next to him was another male who wore a similar matching costume, sans jacket and his hair was only a little messier than the blonds, with his hair falling out of place but still kept back. They looked to be dressed like a character out of the book _The Outsiders, _like greasers.

"How about we all play a little game?"

"What kind of game, Pock?" A woman with thick black hair asked, her arm lazily dragged across the man's shoulder as she tipped her head out of curiosity.

"Pieck, I told you to stop calling me that," the blond seemed to be easily frustrated by the single comment.

Which only resulted in a soft laugh from Pieck, "alrighty then, Porco."

The irritate state seemed to blow over quickly, and Porco now was back on track with his original train of thought, "anyways, I was thinking of..." Porco glanced around the vast group for a moment, "a little game of truth or dare?"

"Truth or dare? Don't you think that's a little middle schoolish, baby brother?" The man sitting beside him with brown hair asked playfully, visibly striking a nerve in Porco.

"Shut up," Porco hissed at his brother, "it's my party, so I get the say in what we do, so if _you _don't like it, Marcel, then you can leave. It's as easy as that," Porco pulled a bottle of bud light to his lips before tipping his head back to take a drink. "And that goes for everyone else too, if you don't like it, then leave."

Though, with the invitation to leave if warranted, no one got up from their seat. And you could tell that Jean hadn't even considered the option of leaving since he made no effort to move, and neither did you. But, naturally, you turned your head over your shoulder just to ask him and make sure. What you didn't anticipate was the proximity that both of your faces would be to each other once you turned to look back at him.

You stilled on Jean's lap, the breath you sucked in practically caught in your throat at his closeness, "Jean," you almost asked in a hushed tone, "do you want to play?"

"Of course," his smile disappeared briefly, but not because he was unhappy, "I mean unless you don't then we can go somewhere-"

"No," you smiled, aimlessly turning back to face the crowd as you'd once been, "I'd like to play, all I need is a drink to start the pace," you admitted, eyes falling onto Floch after turning back forward.

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"You have to do the dare, Bert," the man from the opposing team you played against earlier, who you now knew as Reiner, spoke out, encouraging his tall friend and the girl he was with.

Currently, Bertholdt was to take a body shot off of the girl's stomach. The poor boy was flustered out of his mind, his tan cheeks were a deep shade of pink as he leaned towards the girl. Bert dipped down to her naval, sucking out the alcohol from her belly button. Whistles and cheers sounded out from the crowd when Bert pulled his face back, downing the shot of booze.

"Atta champ," Reiner slapped Bertholdt on his back, causing Bert to cough up a sputter on the alcohol that lingered in his throat.

Bertholdt shrugged his shoulder over his mouth, eliminating any residual of alcohol on his lips.

Currently, you were a few turns in of a modified version of truth or dare. But instead of truths, there were only dares, or you had to take a drink for bailing. The game and its' rules reminded you of the spin-the-bottle game you played last Saturday.

"Drink or dare," you scanned across the crowd, thinking of a victim to pick, "Sasha."

"Dare, obviously," she elbowed Connie in the rib playfully, waiting to hear the poison you picked for her.

A mischievous grin developed on your eager lips, you had just the dare in mind for Sasha.

"I dare you to go lock yourself in a room with Niccolo for ten minutes," you pointed to a room just a few feet away from your group.

Niccolo sputtered out of embarrassment, he was surprised that you'd dare Sasha to do something like that. But Sasha, she wasn't the one to complain over a dare. So, she hopped up on her feet and waited for Niccolo to follow.

Though you only crafted this dare mostly as a joke, you knew well that this dare would also help the two jump-start their relationship in the right direction. You came to that conclusion solely by observing how the two had been interacting with each other so far.

Niccolo seemed to be interested in Sasha but, of course, was hesitant, while Sasha on the other hand was oblivious to Niccolo's advances.

Before Sasha entered the nearby room, she shot you a glance, a glance that could read 'you'll pay for this later.'

After receiving quick congratulatory praise from Eren and Connie due to daring Sasha and Niccolo to do such a thing, both men signaled to Jean that it was now his turn to dare someone.

"Who's it going to be, Jean?" pulling your chin back over your shoulder, you stopped to look at the man you were sitting on.

His fingers that were slack against you suddenly gripped your body slightly. Jean's index finger vaguely tapped against you where he held onto, before combing all fingertips against your flesh in a soothing manner.

Without a second glance around the room, Jean spoke with his head slightly tilted, his eyes on and only on you, "I dare you to kiss me."

#attack on titan #Jean #jean smut #Jean Kirschstein #aot smut #jean kirschtein smut

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ladyvader23 · 3 years

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The Lost Saber

Set in the Dad Vader Chronicles Universe, this short is dedicated to @silvereddaye as a belated birthday present! Silver is such a great friend. She works so hard for her Star Wars server, and she’s so talented. Her art is beautiful, and I have the privilege of playing D&D with her, where she has one of the coolest characters ever! She’s just so awesome and I wanted to write something for her and the idea of Leia stealing Vader’s saber just...seemed entertaining enough for that very occasion. I hope you enjoy Silver!

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Vader did his best not to panic. How many places could his lightsaber be, after all? He was certain he’d had it on his belt when he’d returned home the night before. He was certain he’d had it when he tucked the twins in bed. Leia had, after all, asked him about it, and he’d explained its properties as a weapon and companion in battle. It was an odd choice of a bedtime story, he had to admit, but she’d seemed satisfied afterwards and didn’t complain when he told her to sleep.

Then he’d seen it in his meditation chamber that morning, and he distinctly remembered grabbing it...but now he was in the Imperial Palace and it was gone.

And the Emperor was watching him expectantly, a disobedient moff shaking in his boots as he awaited judgement.

The plan was to scare him before killing him by igniting his saber and casually and slowly moving towards him, letting the tip of his saber singe the ground. Then he’d stab him and let the man die a slow and painful death.

But there was no saber on his belt.

“Have you lost something, Lord Vader?” On the surface, Palpatine’s voice was as benevolent as ever, but there was an edge of annoyance there. Vader didn’t need the Force to tell him that.

Vader didn’t answer. Memories of all the times he’d lost his saber as Anakin flooded his mind, memories full of Obi-Wan giving him long admonishments and lectures that...he’d basically given Leia the night before. What kind of father was he, if he couldn’t even follow what he’d told Leia? Already he could picture both of the twins losing their lightsabers and when he brought it up, they’d point out that he’d lost his and--

He crushed the man’s windpipe and he dropped to the floor.

“That was not what we decided.” There was definite venom in the Emperor’s tone.

“The wait for punishment had the same effect.” Vader pointed out.

The Emperor scoffed and waved him away, irritated. “Come back when you are prepared for your job.”

Vader didn’t argue, and he was grateful that he didn’t have to explain the embarrassing situation further as he strode out of the throne room.

Where could it have gone?

He racked his brain, trying to remember what he might have done that would have required him setting it down. He couldn’t think of any, beyond briefly stopping by Captain Piett’s office to have a word with him. Had he set it down there? He didn’t know why he would have…

His comm rang and without thinking, he picked it up. “I am busy, this had better be an emergency.” He snarled, assuming it was an idiotic officer with news on Rebel movements.

“Um. Hi, this is Miss Kengall, Leia’s teacher?”

Vader stopped in the middle of the ornate palace hallway. He paid no mind to the guards side-eyeing him from where they stood. “Is something wrong?” Already his mind conjured up a million things that could have happened--most of them caused directly by Leia. But if someone had threatened her and he was without his lightsaber...though he technically didn’t need the saber to protect his children...

This day couldn’t get any worse.

“Well,” Vader’s jaw clenched. This woman didn’t know how to get to the point, did she? “Leia...um. She’s got your lightsaber.”

He stopped cold.

“It was show and tell. She wanted to show your--oh, stars, she’s turned it on--”

He heard the whoom of a lightsaber waving around, along with children exclaiming in wonder.

An image of Leia chopping a limb off of a child, or worse, entered his mind. While he’d dismembered plenty of people with a saber, it somehow was very different when the one wielding the weapon was a five year old.

“I am on my way.” He turned the comm off before the teacher could protest and began hurrying as quickly as he could towards his speeder.

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When he arrived at the school, he found Leia waiting for him in the principal's office. Apparently, her teacher was at least competent enough to get her to hand over the weapon, because it sat on top of the principal’s desk.

“Ah. Lord Vader.” A short, portly, balding man greeted as he entered the office. “I was just explaining why--”

“Leave.” He growled as he glared at Leia. He watched her sink into the too-big seat, as though that would spare her from his wrath.

“But...it’s my off--”

Vader stretched out a hand. The man flinched, but rather than strangling the idiotic man in front of his daughter, he called the saber to his grip.

“...Very well.” The principal attempted to sound calm as he stood. “I’ll...I’ll leave you to it.”

Vader waited until the man was gone and the door had firmly closed before he took a few steps forward. The office was small, so it only took him two steps before he was towering over his daughter.

He didn’t even know where to begin. It was pure luck that no one had been injured because of her foolish actions. She refused to meet his eyes, too, which told him she knew she was in big trouble.

“What have I told you about asking for permission before taking things that are not yours?”

That seemed like a reasonable place to start, even though taking a lightsaber was far more serious than her taking one of her brother's toys.

Leia squirmed in her seat. “I...I have to pee--”

“You do not. Answer my question. Now.”

He had never harmed his children. They were far too precious. But he had no qualms about using the vocorecorder in his helmet to its full intended effect when the time called for it.

“...I need to ask.”

“Why?”

Leia squirmed more. “Because it’s not nice.”

He hadn’t ever explained it that way. He was a Sith, he did not care for niceties, but he supposed it worked. “And why else?”

“Because it’s against the law and I’m not allowed to break the law till you say so.”

That was the reason he’d always given when explaining why stealing was wrong.

“And did I say so?”

“No.”

“Then you should not have taken my lightsaber.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “What you took from me is very serious, Leia. You could have hurt or killed one of your friends. You are too young for such violence.”

“I just wanted to have the coolest show and tell.” Leia mumbled.

“I could have assisted you with finding something far less dangerous.” He paused as a thought occurred to him. He hadn’t actually ever shown Luke or Leia what a lightsaber could do. There had been no reason to. They were too young to accompany him anywhere that would have shown them how dangerous it was, and he doubted any of their cartoons portrayed lightsabers.

“Leia. I want you to watch closely.” He said, igniting the blade. As the hum filled the room, she reluctantly looked up.

Just as he turned and sliced through the principal's desk with ease.

She jumped, staring wide eyed as the metal desk collapsed, the edges where he sliced through melting. He turned the saber off and motioned. “One day you will learn to wield your own saber, but without proper training, you could have done this to one of your friends or your teacher. Do you want to do this to them?”

Leia was still staring wide-eyed at the desk as she vigorously shook her head.

“Do you understand why I am so angry with you for taking my lightsaber?”

She nodded.

“Explain it back to me.”

She finally tore her eyes away from the desk, huffing as she did so. She never liked it when he made her prove that she understood, but she also knew he would not give in until she’d done it. “I could have hurt someone.”

“And you could have hurt yourself.” Carefully, he knelt down to her level. It was more difficult than usual, given the room’s small size and the chopped desk in the middle of it, but he managed. Barely. He reached up and cupped her cheek. “One day I will teach you to use your own. I promise. But for now, I do not wish to see you hurt because you didn’t listen to me. Do you understand?”

Tears welled in Leia’s eyes and she nodded before throwing her arms around his neck.

He was still angry...but it subsided slightly with her little arms around his neck, and he patted her back soothingly.

“You are grounded for the foreseeable future. No holovision. No friends. Not until you can prove that you’re responsible again.” He told her as she pulled away.

She pouted and held up two fingers. “Two days.”

“This is not a negotiation.” He pointed at her. “Prove you are responsible and we will revisit the matter of privileges.” He paused. “And I’m sure you are likely suspended from school as well. You will have plenty of time to think on the meaning of responsibility in the meantime by writing a letter of apology to your teacher.”

Her pout deepened into a scowl, but she knew when he was unswayable.

He stood and clipped his saber back to the belt where it belonged. “Get your things. We are leaving.” He told her as he motioned with his hand and the door to the office opened.

Where the principal stood, waiting.

“I...ah, assume Miss Leia understands what she did was wrong?” The man nervously asked as Vader approached, blocking his view of the office within.

“I have dealt with it.” Vader answered simply. “How long will she be suspended?”

The man swallowed nervously. “I...that won’t be necessary--”

Vader took one threatening step forward and shoved his finger into the man’s chest. “I do not care for your fear of me. You will discipline my children the same as you would any other. How many days would you suspend a child for such an infraction?”

He watched the man pale. “Uh...I, uh...thr--three days?”

Vader’s gaze narrowed. That seemed lenient for a child who’d brought a weapon to school. He leaned forward until he was practically in the man’s face. “You are certain?”

The man shrinked away from him. “...A-a week, but it was really--”

By then, Leia had emerged from the office, her pink princess backpack slung over her shoulders. Vader stepped away from the man and placed a guiding hand on his daughter’s back. “She will see you next week, then.”

Without another word, he guided Leia past the school secretary droid and to the front office door.

He did not miss the principal gasping, “What happened to my desk?” before they left.

#darth vader #leia organa #dad vader series #leia and vader #star wars #fanfic #my own writing

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ace-in-a-shopping-cart · 4 years

Text

Day 5

Prompt: Any intense emotions your soulmate feels you will also experience.

Word Count: 1,730

Main Taglist: (Send an ask to be added or removed!) @starlocked01, @spoopy-turtle, @lizluvscupcakes, @more-fandon-than-friends, @i-cant-find-a-good-username, @vindicatedvirgil, @star-crossed-shipper, @justaqueercactus, @gayboopnoodle, @sanderssidesweirdo, @the-sympathetic-villain

Soulmate taglist:(Send an ask to be added or removed!) @elizabutgayer, @melodiread, @tsshipmonth2020, @mikalya12

CW: Panic attacks, anxiety, mentions of self depreciation, mentions of horror.

Logan felt another burst of anxiety deep in his gut and sighed. This was the tenth time in three days, he was starting to be worried for his soulmate. He focused on his breathing, feeling for the familiar tug of emotion. After years of doing this, he’d ‘hacked the system’ so to speak by figuring out where the emotional connection was in his head. Once he’d figured that out, it was a simple matter of pushing emotions across it. So, he did that. He pushed a strong calm over to his soulmate, hoping their anxiety would lessen. He breathed out a sigh of relief when it did, when the pit of doubt left his stomach and his throat opened back up, when he didn’t have to struggle to keep his thoughts clear instead of giving in and drowning in the hate his brain spewed at him in that moment.

He hated the way the anxiety made him feel but also knew that his was tame compared to his soulmate’s. To combat it, he started happy stimming, flapping his hands near his face until he was grinning. He didn’t realize he was pushing his happiness through the connection until he felt the joy being radiated back. He stopped stimming, letting his hands falling back onto the library cart bring him out of his thoughts and remind him of his current task: to reshelf books.

Logan loved working at the library. He loved getting to read as much as he wanted, to have the ability to interact with a bunch of people or choose to stay by himself. The best thing about working in the library is that he got to see people’s faces light up when they found a book. Whether it’s the next book in a series they were reading, a book they’d almost forgotten about, one they had cherished memories of as a child, or a new one they were finding for the first time, he loved seeing the different expressions on peoples faces.

Today would be a good day for that as the library had invited a local author to come in and read his books aloud. Not many knew this, but he had two different pen names. One he used to write children’s books, the other was used to write horror stories with the main focus being human vs nature. Logan had researched the man extensively last night, not getting to sleep until a few hours before he had to get up for work.

The door jingled and a man in a hoodie walked in, making his way over to the children’s section. Logan watched him go, wondering what brought him here today, the reason for his visit to that particular section. When Logan saw him reach out a brush a spine, a soft smile lighting his face, he knew it was a nostalgic visit. He went back to his work, finishing in the adult section and moving to the children’s.

He saw that the tall man had sat down in a comically small chair compared to his height, his leg bouncing in some sort of anticipation. Logan felt the anxiety curling into his stomach again, making him want to curl up on the ground or scream in an emotion he was unable to put words to. Instead, he finished putting the books away and walked up to the man, ignoring the voice in his head that was telling him everyone was watching him at all times.

“Are you waiting for someone?” Logan sat on the ground beside the man, watching the way his head ducked further into his hood.

“Something like that.” The man muttered. His fingers were pulling on his sleeves even while his leg was vibrating. There was something unknown but familiar in the man that made Logan curious about him.

“You look like you could use a distraction.” He said, finally pinpointing the reason the man looked just the slightest bit off.

He chuckled but Logan knew there was little to no mirth in it. “Sure, that’d be nice.” Even so, his voice was genuine.

So, Logan started talking about bookbinding and the differences between modern and medieval Europe. He talked for a half hour or so. During that time, he felt the knot of anxiety untie and slip away, his thoughts clear, and an almost giddy sensation come from across the bond. He paused and realized that the giddiness was coming from him and being reflected back across the bond like a loop.

Logan smiled at the man sitting next to him, carefully watching him. He was no longer hunched into himself, no longer hiding from the world. He seemed to be relaxed, his shoulders were down and his head was up, hood thrown back. His leg was no longer bouncing and his hands were no longer tugging at his sleeves. He had a smile on his face and, in that instance, Logan was sure he could talk to this man for hours and never lose his attention.

Logan didn’t resume talking about his latest hyperfixation, glancing at his watch instead. “I need to get ready.”

The man reached out as Logan stood, helping him up but also glancing at his watch before a panicked look crossed his face. “Shoot, is it really that time already?”

Logan nodded. “My watch is always on time. Do you have somewhere to be?”

“Here. I just didn’t expect time to fly so fast.”

“Well, you know what they say about having fun.” Logan began tidying up the area, getting the small chairs and soft sitting surfaces to face the chair the man was sitting in as it seemed to be against the wall already. He found the copy of the book that was to be read and placed it on the table nearby before standing by the door.

The head librarian walked up to Logan. “What have you been doing with V. A. Strand this whole time?!”

Logan’s head would have spun around if he were in a cartoon. “What do you mean? Are you telling me that the random man I helped down from a near panic attack is the author who’s reading to the children today?!”

She looked at him like he was stupid. “Of course!”

Logan looked back to see the man, V. A., smiling and greeting all the children and parents who filed in. He politely refused autographs and pictures but did allow the children hugs, which Logan thought was sweet. He hadn’t realized he’d been talking to one of his favorite authors of all time about bookbinding of all things for half an hour. Logan shook his head, perfectly content with the way the conversation went, the way he was able to calm the man down, the smile he got at the end of it. None of that time was wasted, neither was it made more special simply because he now knew the man’s identity. It was simply a slightly shocking discovery.

He nodded at that thought and turned back, watching the way V. A didn’t have to look at the book, knowing exactly which words were on which pages, what the pictures looked like. Logan wondered how many late nights he spent, pouring his ideas into words. Logan knew the man illustrated his own books and wondered how long it must take.

The reading was over before Logan was aware. About halfway through, he’d been told to get back to work so he grabbed a new cart and was at it reshelving books. He tried to listen in to the reading, wanting to keep talking with and to V. A., someone he’d only exchanged a few words with but he was already desperate to know their opinion on anything and everything. He wanted to know what he had rattling around in that head. After all, no one can be that quiet without having something on their mind. True, they could simply be quiet, but that meant they were either allowing their mind to wander or they were having thoughts on the discussion. Either one deserved to have those thoughts heard and appreciated.

Logan hadn’t noticed the reading was over until a hand tapped him on the shoulder. He turned his head to look and found the object of his thoughts staring back at him, hand retreating back into his hoodie pocket. Logan smiled. “Can I help you with something?”

He nodded. “I think we might be soulmates?” The sentence came out as a question rather than the statement he surely must have meant.

Logan’s smile only faltered slightly in shock, the thought never having crossed his mind before then. “Why do you think that?”

He seemed to draw into himself, his shoulders rising and his head ducking down the slightest bit. Logan wanted to reach out and hold his hand, to tell him everything was going to be fine. He didn’t, instead, he waited for him to speak. “Earlier when you helped calm my anxiety, I could feel a calm and almost giddy feeling as you talked. I don’t find bookbinding particularly delightful so I knew it had to come from someone else. I don’t know, I guess you seemed to be the obvious choice.” He shook his head. “Sorry, it sounds stupid now.”

He turned to go but Logan reached out a hand and gently grabbed his elbow. His hoodie fabric was as soft as it looked. “Hey, no. It’s not stupid. I hadn’t thought of it until now, too caught up in enjoying talking with you, but it feels like it’s possible. You wanna test it?”

He turned back, leaving Logan’s hand on his elbow. “How?”

“How many times have you panicked or had excessive anxiety over the past three days?”

“Including both times today? Eleven.” The statement was accompanied with a wince of embarrassment, as if he were ashamed of having emotions.

Logan nodded, a smile splitting across his face. “That’s as many times as I’ve felt it from you.” His shrug was much more nonchalant than V. A.’s was just now. “So, do you wanna get a donut from the shop down the street and chat sometime soon?”

He laughed. “That sounds nice. Although, I guess we should exchange names and numbers as well.”

They did so and V. A., no Virgil, walked out the library door, waving to Logan on his way out.

#tsshipmonth2020 #analogical #adhd!logan #writer!virgil #virgil sanders #logan sanders #hidden identity #ace writes

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natural-namjoon · 4 years

Text

𝐓𝐨𝐩 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧

Seonghwa fluff, very mild smut.

Very mild, just making out and heavy groping that's pretty much it.

“Blaze it up and we'll be cruisin'

With the top down

Rev up the engine we'll be cruisin'

Watch it go down

Get in my truck and I'll be ridin'

With my top down

My top down”

The sun shone brightly as you drove your old truck down the Hot Arizona highway, leaving Phoenix. Your new destination was Los Angeles. Having lived the nomad lifestyle ever since you got out of high school, you were always on the road jumping from city to city, working odd jobs to keep some money in your pocket and once you felt you spent enough time in one place you’d pack up your few belongings and head out to a new place. You had called phoenix your home for 6 months, staying longer than usual because the hotel job you had paid pretty well and you were able to save up a bit of money for yourself, but the dry heat finally got to you and you decided to leave, randomly picking LA for your next destination.

In 3 hours you found yourself crossing state lines, passing a sign welcoming you to the golden state. It only took another 3 hours to find your way in between the sprawling buildings of the city of angels. You had found a random gas station and decided to refill your tank and grab a snack for yourself. After getting gas and doing a little search on your phone you found a decently clean 3-star hotel to stay in, after booking and confirming your stay you decided to check-in and freshen up. The vibes of the big city were buzzing in your veins and you felt like going out and seeing the sights. After a quick shower, you threw on a cute black slip dress that flattered your curves along with some strappy sandals. Looking out your hotel window you could see the shoreline in the distance, the sun would be setting pretty soon and you’d never seen the west coast before so off you went.

It felt so freeing to you and it was one of the reasons for living the way you did. Going from place to place, the vibe of each place was different and unique and it energized your soul every time you were able to breathe in the air of a new place filled with new people and experiences. It took a bit of time to make your way to the beach because of the ungodly traffic but you made it just as the sun was setting. There were lots of people on the beach, children and families laughing and playing. Feeling self-conscious,you decided to wait and people-watch from one of the many restaurants that lined the beach and boardwalk. You ducked into this goofy themed crab restaurant and you found a seat at the window so you could watch the sunset over the water.

You sat and just got lost in your thoughts, thinking of home and how long it's been since you spent any quality time with your friends and family let alone someone of the opposite gender. Your lifestyle was lonely and you knew that before you even had left, spending 2- 4 months in each city didn’t really allow for serious relationships, and yeah, you had a couple of hook-ups but those were few and far in between. Overall you were about as unserviced as your truck which was bad in both aspects but you loved the adventure your lifestyle brought and it was easier that way.

During your inner monologue, you didn’t hear someone come up and start talking nor did you hear the second or third time he tried to get your attention so it was after the light touch to your shoulder that had you jumping out of your skin. That you realized a waiter had come to your lone table.

“Sorry didn’t mean to scare you, were you wanting to order something?” you looked up to the waiter. The first thing you noticed was the goofy looking bright red cartoon crab that was plastered on his snapback hat. Your eyes traveled down and then you really saw him,

‘Holy shit he’s hot.’ you thought to yourself, he had a jawline that could cut diamond and plump lips and gorgeous soft brown eyes, you could also see dark brown hair peeking out under his cap. To cover up your awkward silence and blatant staring you coughed and nodded like a dummy,

“I- um yeah i'll take water for now and-” you quickly glanced at the front of the menu and pointed at a picture of something that looked like fried chicken pieces with fries. “ and that…” you prayed he was just some random worker who didn’t care or notice your awkwardness.

The most gorgeous smile slowly formed on his face followed by a deep chuckle, you couldn’t help the deep embarrassment you felt as he laughed at you. He cleared his throat,

“Alright sounds good, so that will be one order of the fried shrimp and chips and water, got it.” He started to scribble in his little notepad and he reached down to grab your menu but you kept your hand on it

“No- um…..actually not that-” again your embarrassment had your face inflamed. “I’m allergic to seafood,” you said in a quiet voice, there was a moment of complete silence between the two of you until he busted out laughing, it was a hearty, real laugh, a part of your brain noticed how beautiful his laugh was but the bigger part of your brain was in error mode. All you could do was put your head down as he laughed at your obvious incompetence. Suddenly he reached down and gently touched your hand with his as his laughter died down. He shook his head,

“I’m sorry I’m not laughing AT you, it's just funny, you're allergic to seafood yet the first restaurant you picked has a giant crab on the front.” another round of giggles left him as he leaned on the table. You couldn’t help but laugh too at the stupid situation you put yourself in.

“ I know, I wasn’t really thinking, I just wanted to find a place to watch the sunset.” you gestured to the large window that framed your table, he looked from the shoreline to you, he felt something fluttering in his chest, he obviously noticed how pretty you were and the dress you had on hugged you in all the right places. He smirked then cleared his throat, getting your attention from the seaside view.

“I’m Seonghwa by the way.” he reached his hand out and you took it shyly, his hand was big but soft and his fingers were long and elegant looking adorned with silver rings.

“I’m (Y/N)” you said with a smile. He smiled back.

“Let me make you a deal, You hang here, and I'll go find you something you can actually eat without dying. Deal?” He winked and you could feel your arms losing circulation. All you could do was nod and he flashed a brilliant smile.

“Ok, hang tight (Y/N)” he turned and made his way to the back of the restaurant. You took a deep breath to steady your heart, you decided then and there that night you might act up and see where the night leads you and Seonghwa. Hopefully, it was your hotel room. After about 4 minutes an older waitress came over and put a fancy looking orange and pink cocktail in front of you,

“Oh, I’m sorry, I ordered water” in the same moment the sentence left your mouth she also put a crisp glass of water down in front of you, then she leaned down closer to you

“It’s from pretty boy back there” You both turned to the restaurant bar where Seonghwa stood behind it, waving in your direction. The waitress waggled her eyebrows at you then sauntered off with a cheeky grin.

You looked down to the bright drink and after a small sniff, you noticed it smelled really sweet and fruity, so it must not be that bad. You took a small sip and the tropical citrus flavor danced on your tongue, it didn’t even taste like alcohol. It was dangerous. Alone again you let your mind wander as you watched each family pack up and start leaving the beach, as it got darker the beach became more and more sparse. 30 minutes had passed and after people-watching you hadn’t realized you’d finished your cocktail and it was the smell of food that brought you out of your trance. You turned to find Seonghwa setting a large plate of Chicken strips and fries down in front of you. You were warm from the alcohol and starving.

“Whoa” was all you said as you looked up at him. You noticed he was dressed differently, his goofy hat and apron were gone and now covering his black work polo was a jean jacket and his hair had been slicked back. Hot damn he looked delicious. He smiled down at you then took a seat opposite of you.

“ Yeah ‘whoa’ is right, for a seafood restaurant their chicken strips are amazing, but I did have to fight the chef to make enough for two adults because these usually come in kids meals.” he rambled as he took a chicken strip off the plate and started eating. You just stared blankly at him, confused as to what was happening, He just looked back at you expecting an answer.

“Um… what’s happening here?” you asked and he chuckled again

“ My shift just ended and you told me you’d stay here while I find food for you, this was the deal” he explained taking another bite.

“But I only had to wait UNTIL you got me food, by law I can leave and take these to go” you pulled the plate closer to you, teasing him. He scoffed then quickly reached over and grabbed another tender before you could pull the plate farther away from him.

“Hey!” you laughed shielding your food. He laughed with you.

“ Actually I wanted you to stay so I could hear your story” he explained sincerely.

“What makes you think I have a story?” you asked, taking a bite of chicken, holy shit the chicken was heavenly. He shrugged,

“Tourists always come to the beach first and usually they wander in here cause we’re right by the entrance to the beach.”

“What makes you think that’s what I did?” he piqued your curiosity

“Because, that’s what I did when I first got here, and that’s how I got this job.” He grabbed a couple of fries, popping them in his mouth. “although I walked in here because I actually like seafood” he teased you laughing as he got another tender from your shared plate. You laughed with him shaking your head.

“Shut up, it was an honest mistake, what restaurant has ONLY seafood except for on the kid’s menu, I’m going to complain to the manager” You joked and he snorted.

“Wouldn't be the first time. Anyways so, where are you from and what brings you to this godforsaken city” he said the last part a little bitterly. You were taken aback by his words,

“What do you mean so far this city has been beautiful. Lots of people, but beautiful.” He chewed silently pondering your words. After he swallowed his bite he sighed

“I thought the same thing before I got jumped one night on my way home from work. Took my wallet and cell but not before I got a blade in my ribs.” He explained darkly, not meeting your eyes. You sat speechlessly, what do you say to that?

“No I-I get it...before I came here I was in Phoenix Arizona, some co-workers and I went out one night, I got separated from them and a man snuck up on me, held a gun to my head and made me hand over my bag. Thank god my car keys had been in my pocket, but I remember feeling so helpless and scared.” You told him, taking a sip of water, feeling the buzz of the alcohol leaving you. Both of you were silent, Seonghwa was mentally kicking himself for bringing the mood down, he hadn’t meant too but he had hoped his story could be one of caution to you but all he did was make you relive a bad memory. He sighed and signaled for one of the waitresses to come over. He ordered another cocktail and she was back with it in a couple minutes. He took the glass and slid it over to you,

“Sorry, I killed the mood I wasn’t trying to get you down.” you smiled at him, grateful for the offer but you had to decline, you still had to drive yourself back to your hotel room.

“I’ll drive you,” he offered immediately. You raised an eyebrow and he laughed

“I won’t try anything. I have to work an early shift anyways so I can’t have too much fun, I'll just catch a bus from your place once you're safe inside.”

You felt your heart warm, he was really sweet. You somehow had the luck to run into him on your first day there, you decided if he couldn’t have too much fun, then a little bit of fun would go a long way. You leaned down and took a big sip of the cocktail, but made a face as the burning taste of vodka overpowered the sugar and fruity taste,

“Oooh this one is strong” you voice came out hoarse as you choked and he laughed

“Yeah I’m the only one who can make this drink the right way, it’s kind of my specialty” he examined the glass absently

“What’s the drink called? I’ve never had it before,” you asked taking another small sip,

He looked up and met your eyes, there was something dark in his soft brown eyes, a kind of mischief that made your stomach flip

“Sex on the beach,” he said softly in his deep voice, keeping direct eye contact with you. You breathed out slowly and without breaking the eye contact you responded

“your specialty is sex on the beach?” you asked, your voice small. He smirked, finally breaking eye contact as he reached down his fingers tracing the lines on the top of your hands.

“Something like that.”

Suddenly you didn't care about seeing the beach, You took another big drink of your liquid courage, managing to not make a gross face this time and you looked at him,

“How about instead of escorting me home, maybe you can take me into the city? Cruise around, show me the city lights and nightlife, you don’t have to go home right this instant?” you asked leaning forward giving him puppy dog eyes hoping he’d accept.

He laughed at your eagerness, after a quick check of his phone he accepted and you smiled feeling victorious.

Quickly getting up and packaging your food to go you went to pay for the food but he just grabbed your arm and led you out the door.

“Wait, this is stealing,” you said bluntly feeling buzzed.

“I’m an assistant manager, it’s on me.” He responded cooly

“Oh excuse me I didn’t know I was hanging with a High Roller” you teased. He laughed as you guys came to the parking lot of the beach, there weren’t many cars and your old red Dodge Dakota truck stood out lonely in a far corner. You beckoned for him to follow as you stumbled over to your trusty vehicle. Once you got to the truck you tossed him the keys,

“This is not the car I expected you to have” he laughed unlocking the door.

“Yup i've had this old girl for years, i saw her in a used car lot and had to have her.” you climbed in the passenger seat and tossed the bag of food in the back seat.

One you both were in and buckled up he laughed

“So you're just a young pretty girl that drives an old beat up truck that's probably older than you?” he laughed again turning to you

“I know it's weird right…” you turned to him trying to look intimidating

“You know this could all be a ruse, I could be luring you to the back alleys of the city to kill you and keep your head in my fridge.

After a beat you realized how weird that really sounded and you silently cursed the alcohol for making you so loose lipped.

Luckily Seonghwa wasn't fazed as he burst out laughing then turned to you and cocked his eyebrow

“Is that a threat or a promise??” he giggled and started the truck, you thanked the heavens he was so easygoing.

“Wanna know the main reason I wanted this truck?” you asked him, reaching across him to a switch near the drivers door, noting how good he smelled while you did it, and flipped a small switch. There was a groaning and whining noise then the whole top of your truck moved and folded back on itself and after a moment you were both sitting with the salty sea air around you.

“ WHAT? This is so COOL!” he exclaimed looking like a kid with a new toy “I didn't know that convertible trucks existed!!” he was laughing in excitement and you laughed with him.

“Lets fuckin go then!” he yelled and revved the engine and soon you guys were on the road headed for downtown L.A.

In no time you both were cruising with the top down, enjoying the nightlife, the city was so big and there were so many people out shopping, and eating and there were a lot of people performing and busking on the sides of the roads. It was all so magical and you felt so exhilarated, In all honesty there wasn't anything about L.A that you had not seen in other big cities, but this city had one thing the others didn't, and that was Seonghwa. Having someone with you to experience things with, made a world of a difference. Every so often when you'd get excited and would point and laugh and sit with amazement he would always look at you with the softest eyes and he looked upon you with this kind of adoration that you had never seen someone look at you with. He would tell you stories of his first experiences with the various locations you guys passed by and he had you laughing and every so often he would rest his hand on your thigh absentmindedly, not in a creepy way, but in a way that felt familiar, like he'd done it a thousand times. His hand was a comfortable warmth on your cool skin and it felt right being there with him, everything about him was perfect.

After a bit of driving he started to head to where he lived, you had offered to drop him off as the night had grown long and he had gotten a few phone calls from his roommates asking when he'd be home so unfortunately he had to head home and you were sobered up enough to drive finally. He pulled into the driveway and parked, not before putting the top back up. There was a silence in the car, neither of you wanted to end the night, but Seonghwa had responsibilities and he had to sleep because he had to open up at work the next day.

After a bit of silence he reached over again and gently put his hand on your knee, you placed your smaller hand on his,

“Well, (Y/N) i'm glad you stumbled into my restaurant today, this is the most fun i've had with another person in a long time.” he smiled at you, eyes running over your body as his thumb drew circles on your knee. You had heard what he said, and you wanted to respond with something sweet and wholesome but all you could focus on was his lips and his hand on your skin. With the hand that was placed on his you grabbed his wrist and slowly pulled his hand up higher on your thigh pushing back the fabric of your dress until he was a inch away from your center. You felt him tense up and your breathing got heavy as you watched him and waited for him to do something,

“(Y/N)...” he breathed out, voice deep and filled with lust as he stared at the spot his hand was in and were it was going, he gave your thigh a test squeeze,

“Seonghwa..” you didn't mean for your voice to come out as a small moan but the anticipation and sexual tension was becoming too much for you. Suddenly Seonghwa leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, you immediately opened your mouth to deepen the kiss further, frantically unbuckling your seat belt so you could climb over onto his lap. Without breaking the kiss you settled onto his lap and his hands were all over you. Your brain was a deep fog, there was nothing you could think other than the feeling of his soft lips on yours and the feeling of his big hands as he squeezed your ass. You slipped your hands under his shirt wanting to feel more of him, he broke the kiss only to swiftly remove his jacket and polo shirt. You took a moment to marvel at his body, he was leaned and chiseled, not too much muscle but there were abs and broad shoulders, this man was like a drug, everything he did and everything about him was so intoxicating. You ran your hands up and down his chest and down his back as he pulled you closer, you noticed a hardnessed pressed against your lower parts and you smiled in the kiss, feeling how hard he got and all you guys were doing was kissing. Ever so slowly you pressed your hips down harder onto his crotch and started grinding, he broke the kiss as his head fell back and a groan escaped his lips,

“Oh my god (Y/N) fuck..” you took that as a sigh to grind your hips harder onto his erection, causing more intense friction on your clit, both of you held each other, a moaning and whining mess. You absently thought about how hot and bothered you were getting with your clothes on, you couldn't wait to get them off. You went to kiss him again, tongue exploring as he grasped your hips harshly, trying to slow your movements because your makeout session was getting really intense really fast.

You were about to pull back and ask if they should go back to your hotel room for more privacy when there was a loud rapping at the driver side window, you let out a surprised squeak as you moved to cover any exposed parts. Both you and Seonghwa turned and standing on the other side of the window was a tall man, he looked young like you guys and he had peach colored messy hair and various stains on his oversized sweater.

“Yuhno What the Fuck???” Seonghwa said incredulously, The man named Yuhno gestured for him to roll the window down, after the glass was no longer between them Seonghwa snapped at the taller man

“ Yuhno I said I'd be home soon, I was kind of in the middle of something.” he lectured, angrily pulling his shirt back on.

“Yeah I can see that, and as much as hate to cockblock you and this lovely lady-” he looked over at you and waved cutely, all you could do was laugh and wave back embarrassed. “But Wooyoung and Mingi duct taped Hongjoong to the wall and they won't let me get him down, San wont stop crying because he was trying to do a trick off the counter and dropped half our plates. I tried to get Jongho and Yeosang to help but they went into their rooms and refused to come out.” Yuhno explained in the most calm way possible. Seonghwa just silently sat for a moment and sighed,

“The one day you all have a day off while I have to work late and of course there is pure chaos, just- go get Hongjoong down and I'll be inside in a second.” Yuhno just nodded and after waving at you again he hurried back to the shared house. Seonghwa just sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly,

“ Are these your roommates or do you have kids I don't know about?” Seonghwa let out a genuine laugh then he looked tiredly at you,

“Im sorry, my roommates are a bit…. Eccentric.” he said the last word slowly. You giggled, then leaned over and gave him a small peck on his lips. He pressed his forehead to yours and sat for a moment, basking in your scent. Then with another defeated sigh he climbed out and you slid into the driver seat behind him. He closed your door and leaned in the open window pressing another quick kiss to your lips, the longing in his eyes almost made you want to cry as it mirrored your own longing. He pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to you and you realized it was your phone,

“Don't be mad but I put my number in your phone” he chuckled

“When did you get my phone?!” you asked genuinely surprised he just chuckled and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I have my ways, I just want to make sure I’ll get to see you again.” he said the last part as a question

“Of course” you said softly cupping his cheek to emphasize your adoration. He didn't make any move to leave your side until there was a loud crashing and incoherent yelling from the inside of the house.

“I gotta go,” he shot you an apologetic smile and turned and jogged up to the front door. As he pulled open the door you could hear high pitched laughter and other sounds of ruckus happening in the house.

“Wooyoung!” he barked as he slammed the door behind him followed by a high pitched scream you could hear from inside your truck.

You looked down at the new contact in your phone under the name Seonghwa and smiled. The whole drive home you had butterflies as you thought about your day and the amazing man you spent part of it with. You'd never experienced anything like this before all the other times you were with a guy it was a hookup and you never really saw the men again, but you knew without a doubt you wanted to see Seonghwa over and over again.

“Coming to L.A. was a good choice after all” you said to yourself as you made your way back to your hotel “ I think that I might stay”

#ateez seonghwa #Seonghwa fluff #seonghwa smut #ateez smut #ateez fluff #natural-namjoon works #ateez fanfic #fanfic #top down #5hxAteez #mingi #hongjoong #yuhno #wooyoung #san #yeosang #jongho

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snowpeawritings · 4 years

Text

14. Everyday’s Great...

Philemon seems to enjoy seeing his Wild Cards live on with their lives…

insp.

Persona 4 Golden X FeMC!Reader

05/03/TUE-Daytime | Junes Foodcourt

“If the killer was trying to silence her, there might’ve been something at the scene only she would have understood. Which would mean that the culprit may be someone close to Ms. Konishi.”

The words of Adachi still rang fresh in your mind. Yesterday, you and Yosuke offered to treat Chie and Yukiko Junes’s steak meal as compensation for your Personas practically eating all of the instant noodles. When your group had given them the steaks, Adachi had came by and began rambling his mouth over precious information. The evidence that’s been compiled from the police has been keeping you awake at night. Even Izanami had caught on with your overthinking, her trying to shake you out of it last night and before you were meeting with the others plus Nanako.

Speaking of Nanako, she was having the time of her life being at the food court despite it being, well, just a food court. You wish you could share her happiness but with how those words ring in your mind, you just couldn’t share her sentiment.

“So you’re the family cook, huh? Pretty impressive ‘Big Sis’!”

You blinked out from your thoughts, looking at Chie for a moment before shrugging. “You have to do what you have to do.”

You tried to ignore the sharp, side-eye glance from your Persona as you fiddled with the hem of your coat.

“As expected from our Leader! You’re pretty good with your hands when you made me that pork cutlet the other day!” Yosuke said, giving you a thumbs up.

Jiraiya, who was being held by the scarf by Tomoe, piped up. “’Good with your hands’...? Really, man?”

Yosuke choked, cheeks flushing red. “D-Don’t take words out of my mouth!”

You were thankful for the distraction as Izanami shook her head at the Wind-attuned Persona. “I blame the both of you for that.”

Beside her, the shivering pink Persona looked at Jiraiya and Tomoe. The muscled Persona still had Jiraiya in a strong, leash-like grip. “They’re quite close, aren’t they?”

From that comment, Tomoe sneered but held no ill will against Konohana. “As if I would be close to scum like this idiot.”

“Hey, that’s like two insults already!” Jiraiya yelled at her. “Besides, it’s not like I bug you all the time and the rest of the ladies don’t realize I exist!”

“In case you haven’t noticed, we have a new ally on our cause that I’d rather not corrupt so soon.”

Beside Yukiko, Konohana Sakuya was busy trying to catch a butterfly between her hands. It would’ve been adorable if the butterfly phased through her hands like they were nothing before she sadly sighed. She may not have realized that she was able to physically grasp things at her will but you’ll put your faith in Izanami that she’ll teach her... Even though you don’t know how they do it themselves.

Jiraiya clicked his tongue in disdain before moving his head towards Yukiko. “Hey, Amagi, was it?”

The girl in red jumped up in surprise, not expecting to be under fire. “Um, yes?”

He cocked his head (as much as he could) to your direction. “You sure you don’t have any closeted feelings for ____ here? Because I’m pretty sure Sakuya here says otherwise.”

“Dude!”

“Anyway!” Chie exclaimed before patting her hand behind Nanako’s chair loudly: A sign that there was a child in the group and, most importantly, she can’t see or hear your Personas. “I can consider myself a pretty good cook too!”

Yosuke scoffed. “You? Cook? Hard pass.”

“What, you wanna cook-off?!”

From her battle cry, Tomoe let go of Jiraiya’s scarf and raised her fist at Yosuke. “Bring it on! Chie will not be defeated by the likes of you!”

Jiraiya flexed his shoulders even though you knew that he was joking about this. “Don’t cry when you lose, woman.”

“Children, behave.” Izanami said, but not making a move to stop them at all.

Now that it sunk in, you looked back at her on why she wasn't stopping them. In fact, she was leaning on her left leg and her arms crossed like she's watching actual children fight. All you could think about was since when was Izanami so laid-back? She wasn't like this before and you didn't even know Izanami could take a joke.

As if wanting to further spiral your mind into disarray, she joined in on the festivities. "If we're speaking about culinary talents, it is my own master who will reign supreme."

Good god, since when can she gloat?

Soon, everyone has the same aghast expression on their face. With everyone looking at Izanami like she told them that your hand would be fine if you dunk it in scalding hot water, it was a wonder how Izanami wasn't buckling down from the attention. Even Yosuke, Chie, and Yukiko are looking at her like she was the goddess that she's supposed to be.

Nanako, who finished her snack with a smile, looked up to see all of you staring at something with a funny expression on your faces. She looked to where you all were staring at only to find nothing but a cat with its paws outstretched towards a fish decoration. It was clearly fake and sloppily done-the white of the paper peeking through the mismatched crayons-but the cat deemed it was tasty enough for it to try and eat it.

But the girl thinks that it was funny enough, so she copied your expressions with glee.

Eventually, Izanami noticed their staring and shrugged. "Jiraiya must be rubbing off on me."

Like a gust of wind, the frog immediately slid next to her like in those cartoons before wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Oh, Izanami! You sly woman, how adorable that you're taking my mannerisms!"

As if to add more to the fire, his voice dipped lower, a tone that you never heard him or even Yosuke since they sound remotely the same, made you shiver. "You trying to turn me on?"

Before Izanami could say anything, a sharp spear was hooked under his scarf and yanked him away. It wasn't long before a smack was heard.

“Um… Anyway…” Yosuke steered back the conversation to them. “So Nanako-chan! With all these contenders in our group, I bet we can make something that could top your mom’s cooking!”

You and Izanami winced.

Nanako answered without flinching. “I don’t have a mom. She died in an accident.”

Everyone besides you and Izanami eyes widened at the statement. Tomoe stood even more rigid than usual, Jiraiya actually paused in his floating for once, and Konohana stopped fiddling with her petals.

It took a while but Chie nudged Yosuke with her hand. “Hey, Yosuke…”

He fumbled with his words, trying to come up with something to try and clear the awkward air, but all he could muster was the usual ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know’ phrase.

Luckily, Nanako took it in stride. “It’s okay. Even if I don’t have a mom, I have Dad with me.”

And to put the final nail in the coffin for being how cute she was, she turned to you, a happy blush on her cheeks. “And now I have a big sister, too!”

And now to bury the coffin, she turned to everyone. “And I’m having a lot of fun today! I love Junes!”

"... I will die for this child." Jiraiya said seriously. "I will."

"For once, I agree with you frog." Tomoe said.

Even Konohana, the most emotional Persona, started bawling. "Sh-She's the sweetest!"

Izanami tried to comfort Konohana but that even croaked another cry from the pink Persona as her petals fluttered from her shaking.

Looking at your friends, you see that they also share the same sentiment, albeit not as extreme as their Personas. You were pretty sure Yosuke was about to straight up cry though.

Chie smiled at her. "We'll play with you all that you want, Nanako! Just say the word!"

Yukiko piped in. "Yeah, we should hang out more often."

"Nanako-chan!" Yosuke said to her with an easy-going smile. "How about I buy you a drink?"

She nodded gleefully at Yosuke before following him to the drinks stand. It wasn't long before Jiraiya followed them, wanting to watch over Nanako like his life depended on it. The rest of you watched them go away.

"She's a strong girl." Yukiko said after they were out of hearing range.

"Yeah," Chie replied to her, "she makes me feel like I'm the little kid."

"She'll grow up to be a strong woman. I just know it." Tomoe said softly and you couldn't help but linger for a second that Tomoe let her guard down.

Konohana looked at Tomoe then to the direction where Yosuke, Nanako and Jiraiya went. "Do you think Jiraiya may be talking Yosuke's ear off?"

A momentary silence ensued before Tomoe sighed sharply and went to the drinks stand. Konohana soon followed, at least wanting to try and calm down Tomoe. It wasn't long before Yukiko and Chie followed them, not to stop them but to buy something for Nanako.

You have a feeling your friends won't stop spoiling Nanako anytime soon.

"Nanako has them wrapped around her fingers." Izanami said.

You were sure it was a joke. It has to, with how laid-back she is right now.

"You're not going with them?" You asked her.

She paused before she turned to you with her golden eyes. "Not after you tell me what's been bothering you."

You flinched under her gaze, looking away from her piercing stare as you fiddled with your hands. "What do you mean?"

"Do not try and dissuade me. You've been silent ever since you came here with Nanako. Even you aren't immune to her charms."

You struggled to formulate a response. You weren't as eloquent like the books you've read so you can't weasel your way out of her interrogation.

With a sigh, you resigned yourself to your fate as you looked at your Persona. "I'm just… thinking about the case."

She tilted her head. "We think about it all the time."

"No, like-" You said, the temporary flare of frustration creeping up but you held it down. "I just… want to solve this case as soon as possible."

"Hasty decisions lead to dire consequences." She quoted. "We have time to figure out the truth."

"I get that, but like…" You trailed off. You suck in a breath before continuing. "I don't want this team to worry even more. We're supposed to be worrying about midterms, for god's sake. Not finding some serial killer on the loose!"

Izanami sharply said your name, reminding you that you were technically by your lonesome in the eyes of others. "I understand how you feel. You are still a child, wrapped up in responsibilities that shouldn't even be on your shoulders."

She then looked down, looking like she was mulling over on what else to say before staring at you straight in the eyes. "But you have friends that care for you, even a family to care for you. And you still have me."

For what felt like hours, you stared back into those golden eyes. They seemed to shine even brighter than before and you don't know if that was the watery sensation you're getting in your eyes.

"You still have us," She continued, "you're not alone in this."

You blinked away, trying to fight back the tears before nodding at her. "... Thanks."

She let out an amused huff before turning her head to hear footsteps coming towards your table. Nanako came back with a carefree smile on her face.

"Do you want something too?"

Thou art I… And I am thou…

Thou hast established a new bond…

It brings thee closer to the truth…

Thou shalt be blessed when creating Personas of the Justice Arcana…

Persona Time

After bidding goodbye to your friends, you, Izanami, and Nanako went back home. The little girl now has a little baggie full of snacks provided by all of your friends. You wondered briefly if her teeth would be alright with all of the sweets they bought for her but she comforted your fears by saying she won’t eat them all the time.

That being said, that didn’t stop her from eating a choco cornet. The chocolatey filling made her squeal in happiness as she savored the pastry. You two went around the shopping district, not quite ready to go home yet when the sun is still high. You thought about attempting the Mega Beef Bowl Challenge again but it wouldn’t be worth it when it wasn’t raining.

Right now, you looked at the shops, eyes lingering on an old textile shop. Recalling the news last time, there was a brawl that happened in front of the store because some punks were causing a ruckus. It was at that moment when…

“Hey,” Nanako said softly, “there’s a funny-looking guy at that shop.”

The lady’s son stood in front of the textile shop like he was protecting it from anything harmful. His bleached hair made him stand-out from the passersby as his daunting stature made him look like he was a part of a syndicate. If the news didn’t slip that he was a year under you, you would’ve kept your guard up.

You tugged on Nanako’s hand. “Let’s steer clear from that guy, okay?”

She muttered an ‘okay’ before following you. Izanami stepped ahead of you two, cleaver in her hands in case of anything that could happen. You and Nanako hurried to the nearest bus stop, trying to avoid any eye contact from him as Izanami stood guard.

For a moment, you were about to be away from the first-year before somebody stopped you. An arm darted out in front of you, belonging to an older man that you’ve no doubt want to punch his teeth in if not for a child in the vicinity.

“What’s the rush?” He slurred and you recoiled back from his breath. You quickly placed Nanako behind you as Izanami raised her cleaver.

“Leave us alone.” You spat, not bothering to give him the time of day. You tried to dodge him but that led to him sidestepping back in front of your vision. You felt Nanako shiver from behind you as you glared at the man. Izanami swung her cleaver back, ready to maim.

"No need to be afraid! I'm gonna take real good care of you two--"

Before he could even finish his sentence, a fist came and clocked him clean in the jaw. Nanako gasped, you pulled her closer as you followed the fist to see the bleach-haired first year staring down at the pervert like he was scum.

"How many times do I gotta tell ya?!" The first-year spat, kicking his foot towards the man's chest as he doubled-over in pain. "If I see ya here one more time, it won't be just your face that's gonna get a beat-down!"

The man couldn't even respond, seeing from the odd angle of his jaw. He hurried to his feet and ran away from you, not even looking back.

Beside you, Izanami lowered her cleaver. "That was… an event."

You nodded at her before looking down at Nanako. She was still shaking but not as much as before. She didn't even realize her choco cornet had been squeezed too much, the chocolate filling already staining her clothes.

But it looked like she didn't mind. Instead, she looked at the first-year with a wide-eyed smile. "Thanks mister for beating him up!"

Like a lightswitch, he immediately turned into a blushing mess. He stumbled with his words, looking away from Nanako as he stuffed his hands into his pants pockets.

"Sh-Shut up! I didn't do it for you!"

Ah, so he's that type.

"Thanks still, for chasing him away." You said to him, smiling softly. "We owe you one."

He choked. "You ain't owin' me nothin'!"

Your lips quirked upwards at his real demeanor, wanting to tease him even more but he was still a punk that socked someone without hesitation. You still had Nanako behind you and a pile of books that you need to study for midterms.

“Thanks anyway. Stay safe.” You said to him earnestly before walking to the bus stop. Nanako lagged behind a bit, looking back at the bleached boy with a smile.

“Goodbye, strong man!”

Izanami was the only fortunate soul to witness a boy combust to the ground.

#persona 4 #persona #persona 4 imagines #persona 4 x reader #yosuke hanamura x reader #yosuke hanamura #yosuke hanamura imagines #kanji tatsumi #kanji tatsumi x reader #kanji tatsumi imagines #teddie #teddie x reader #teddie imagines #x f!reader #x female!reader #start of a new fool #snowpea writings

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mego42 · 3 years

Text

207 Discussion Q’s

shout out and thank you to @pynkhues for putting these together even though she wasn’t gonna be here this week

1. What was your favourite scene of the episode? Tell us why!

obvs the dubby but underrated fav is Ruby and Jane in the closet, idk exactly why but I am starved for the families interacting with each other content (screw the timeline, the most unrealistic aspect of this show is that they aren’t constantly in and out of each other’s houses with ben and sara continually being called on to babysit) so this little snippet makes me levitate

2. Was there any scene that missed the mark for you? And if so, how?

the annie and noah scenes for sure. I mostly feel betrayed bc I really liked them the first time I watched (i have a lot of built in affection for sam huntington let me live) and now I’m like BEGONE FOUL BETRAYER and feel pre-emptive fatigue over annie’s taste in men and how that’s not going to get better any time soon

3. I know time does not exist in the Good Girls universe (or in reality anymore), but let’s start with a timeline question! The implication of the opening montage is that a bit of time has past since Beth strongarmed the partnership with Rio at the end of 2.06. How long do you think it’s been? And more importantly, what do you think these early days of their partnership looked like?

I tend to lean towards at least 2 months, maybe more based on:

the number of shoeboxes and how many times Beth’s shown making a closet deposit

how lived in their annoyance over Beth’s dividing her time and Rio pushing back feels

the implication (at least how i read it) that Rio’s annoyance stems from having to track Beth down which presumably implies they’d grumbled their way into a semi-functional working relationship prior (supported by their ease with each other in 208) and if the montage has only been a month, that would be a maximum of 4 meetings and I don’t particularly think that’s enough time for them to get over being extremely prickly with each other

the fact that Beth goes to Rio for help when Jane’s missing (again, to me implies a longer period of time to get over some of their antagonism than a max of 4 meets)

I imagine their initial partnership went something like Beth being a smug brat about forcing her way in, Rio being deliberately unhelpful and trying to force her to admit she’s in over her head (while still keeping enough of an eye on things that his money isn’t jeopardized), Beth stubbornly refusing to and finding ways to rise to the occasion, Rio being grudgingly impressed, Beth being annoyed with herself for how pleased she is over that. Lather, rinse, repeat until they’ve worn a cantankerous but bizarrely comfortable groove into each other.

meanwhile, Mick, Annie and Ruby are absolutely disgusted by everything happening in front of their eyes.

4. The first scene between Ruby and Turner in this episode is a really dynamic one! It’s pretty clear that Ruby’s afraid of Turner, but what do you think Turner thinks of Ruby?

I think he sees a big cartoon canister labeled "Beth Boland Bait"

5. Taking the kids to the drop was a pretty big mistake! What do you think Beth should’ve done in this instance? Do you think saying no again to Rio was an option?

CALLED BEN OR SARA FOR A BABYSITTING ASSIST. For fucks’ sake.

And yeah, I think she could’ve said no to Rio but he would’ve kept her cut of that drop and, even worse, would’ve been able to hold the fact that she didn’t deliver that one time over her head forever more.

6. The krav maga teacher offers some sage advice telling Dean to not order the hit and instead just divorce his wife, haha. Do you think that he thought the baby hitmen would come through for Dean? Or do you think he was deliberately setting Dean up to get robbed?

I choose to believe the krav maga teacher knew exactly what kind of an idiot Dean was and set him up because the dude clearly had at least two brain cells to rub together and anyone with two brain cells to rub together would never get tangled up in a murder plot with Dean standing on the street corner telling random bystanders in detail how he wants to kill the guy that fucked his wife what do you mean established means and motive Boland.

7. During Ben and Annie’s tense conversation, Ben tells Annie that she’s hard to keep track of - she’s parent mom, cool mom, sketchy mom. In a lot of ways, this feels like a parallel to Ruby talking to Beth in the last episode and calling her ‘drug Beth, gun Beth, human trafficking Beth’. What do you make of this? And how do you think it relates to the show’s themes?

I defer to @foxmagpie’s answer because I like it a lot.

8. The scene with the girls in the house! Tell me all your thoughts please!!!

I love this scene a lot

Beth’s channeling Rio in general but also specifically in 201 you will never ever change my mind

Sometimes I lie awake at night wishing Rio had seen it

Prayer circle that he sees a version of it in s4

Can you imagine the nightmare level of boner he would get? The sheer narcissism!!

Ruby’s obvious wish for new friends is The Most Valid

I really love the main drug den guy, I love Blake Shields’s energy, it makes the scene crackle, and I wish they’d bring him back purely bc he’s gr9

9. Annie meets Noah in this episode! What do you think of their introduction to one another? And how would you rate Noah on the scale of ‘Garbage Annie Love Interests’?

at least he’s not her therapist I guess

10. Beth has two pivotal and emotionally revealing fights this episode - one with Dean and the other with Rio. How do these fights compare? And what do you think they tell us about her respective relationship with them?

UUUNNNNNFFFFFFFF

I L O V E how hard the show goes on Dean’s obsession with Beth and Rio as the primary source of his angst

the fact that he’s trying to rope Stan into murder while looking for Jane who isn’t even MISSING but Dean had NO IDEA bc instead of giving a shit he went straight to HOW CAN THIS BE THAT GUY’S FAULT

I love how clearly they delineate that it isn’t about Beth but specifically about someone else ~*~taking~*~ Beth from him and how emasculated that makes him feel (something something something the storyline opens with the krav maga guy choking him out and then telling him to divorce her and Dean being like I reject your rational and logical solution bc it doesn’t punish the man who touched my property, idk i have a half baked thought there but i can’t pull it out of my brain)

and then it’s all underscored how little Dean’s worried about Beth and her safety by him bringing her work up specifically as a gotcha (which, unless I’m forgetting something, is p much the only context Dean ever brings it up in besides maybe the sit down fight but that’s again, about Beth acting out vs genuine concern)

Meanwhile, this is contrasted with:

Beth flipping tf out at the mere suggestion Rio would ever hurt her children, showing how deeply and instinctively she trusts him in regards to her children aka what’s been established as her Most Important Priority over and over (in the same breath that she rips into Dean for losing Jane in the first place)

which is doubled down on her immediately going to Rio for help

and he is FURIOUS at her, but the thing he leans hard on isn’t how she could have jeopardized the business deal (aka his money, what’s been established as his Most Important Priority over and over) but how she jeopardized herself and how badly she can fuck up if she doesn’t take this seriously

putting himself in a vulnerable position (presumably burning a connect, letting on that Beth means something to him beyond business) to look out for Beth’s emotional well-being

And then, just to drive it home a little further, @sothischickshe pointed out the Beth and Rio fight over Beth’s self preservation is directly paralleled with Stan freaking out at Ruby over the IA stuff because he’s worried about her and I had to go and stare at a blank wall for a few minutes to calm down.

anyway, draw your own conclusions.

11. Ruby takes Jane being missing as an opportunity to try and find evidence on Beth for Turner and, in the process, finds Jane too. How do you think this scene captures Ruby’s moral dilemma? And do you think it’s a satisfying turning point in the Ruby-Turner arc?

I struggle a lot with the Turner and Ruby plot specifically because I HATE that Turner’s ruthlessly leaning on Ruby as the weak link but I’m also ferociously attracted to him so I’m less bothered by it than I feel like I should be so mostly I just try not to think about any of it.

Idk, I see it in some ways as a continuation of Ruby’s fight with Beth and Annie in s1 where Annie said she isn’t blood. They put Ruby on the outside but when push comes to shove, Ruby still puts the two of them above her own family. As far as I’m concerned, Annie still owes Ruby a massive apology for that. Beth I let off the hook a little because by the end of the season she’s ready to turn herself in to make it all go away for all of them (I think, unless I’m misremembering, which is entirely possible bc I don’t think I’ve ever rewatched all of 213)

12. RIO GETS BETH THE DUBBY!! That’s it, that’s the question. Please discuss.

I think a lot about how the gesture is so baldly honest neither one of them can face it either at all (Rio) or without taking a shot first (Beth) which, now that I’ve typed it out, is also an interesting flip of their general MO bc under normal circumstances I’d put Rio down as the one that, of the two of them, is more willing to face stuff whereas Beth’s the one that hides from it.

#gg rewatch #gg 2x07 #gg related #shut up meg

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

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Dad Fluff: Bad Day

CW: Chronic pain, referenced past torture, Mina is sickeningly cute, and all of the things she does in here are things I have personally witnessed a four year old doing. (I was actually the four year old who did one of the things in this piece - guess which one!)

Danny is busy pitying himself when he hears Mina wake up down the hall. He’d had this idea of what parenting would be like, and lying in bed with agonizing pain ripping up and down his back isn’t it.

Instead, as he’d waited and waited for them to be matched with a birthmom, Danny had pictured waking his daughter (or son - they hadn’t known which the baby would be, yet) with homemade breakfast.

He’d seen himself as being already on his second cup of coffee, settling down at the kitchen table to watch tiny legs swing on chairs too tall.

Danny had pictured asking his child what they had dreamed about the night before, and lying about his own nightmares with ease by then. Never letting on that when his baby needed a nightlight, he still did, too.

Some days - most days, even, he tries to be honest with at least himself - he is exactly the father he wanted to be. But then there are days like today, where his four year old daughter starts singing to herself in her room down the hall and Danny can’t get up to greet her.

“Hosanna, hey-sanna, sanna superstar,” Mina sings brightly in the joyful off-key caterwauling of very young children, and Danny finds a smile. It’s faint and faded and it doesn’t last, as a new spike of pain rips up the right side of his back where a knife once broke off inside him, but he decides to count that one single smile as his first victory for the day.

He should have told Nate to call off class, he really should have, but… the thing was, Nate’s been working on this lecture he’s really excited about - something something World War I and horror in popular culture, there’s a book, something something there’s always a book - forever and his students are all hyped up for it and Danny having a bad back doesn’t seem like a reason to ruin everyone else’s day, too.

It felt like doing the right thing then - pretending to be peacefully asleep while Nate quietly got ready and let himself out the front door after putting Toto out in the fenced-in yard - but in the moment it means Danny lying in bed, in the dark he tells himself he no longer fears because he’s in too much pain to turn on the light, waiting for his daughter to give up waiting on him to come to her room and come looking for him herself.

“Hey-sanna, hosanna, sanna superstar,” Mina sings, and then there’s a pause. Danny closes his eyes against the angry tears, tries to tell himself to stand, but when he moves his legs his back screams at him to stay still and he gives up, letting out a soft, half-broken sob.

“Daddy?” Mina calls. He can hear the sound of her turning the doorknob, the soft sound of the door opening up. “Daddy? Do you hear me singing?”

“Yes, baby,” He manages, his deep voice hoarse and a little cracked. “I’m… I’m in my room, Mina, honey. Can… can you, um, come here?”

Silence, and then the padding of tiny footsteps down the hall, until his own bedroom door slowly opens. He can close his eyes and picture her going up on her toes to turn on the light, and the sudden brightness soothes something that is always jagged in Danny in the dark.

Grown man, afraid of the dark, Abraham whispers in the back of his mind, never quite gone, the ghost that left a parting gift of pain. My fingers never leave your mind.

Around the side of the little dresser his daughter peeps at him and Abraham’s voice is gone as quickly as it came. Mina chases all his ghosts away.

She’s wearing her matching unicorn pajamas that are probably too small by now, but he can’t bear to make her give them up. Her hair is a halo of textured black curls around her head - Danny is supposed to give her back her braids, today, the ladies down at the salon they go to showed Danny and Nate how to take care of hair so very different than their own

He can’t braid her hair if he can’t fucking sit up.

Mina takes him in with wide brown eyes, the largest feature in her tiny round face. She’s starting to lose the toddler babyfat but only just, and the resemblance to his own younger brother in the first days Danny was adopted is… uncanny, sometimes.

Like now, when Mina looks at him and knows what she is looking at.

“You didn’t turn on the light,” She says, softly. “You don’t have your light on the wall. Are you sick?”

“I’m… I’ll be okay, honey. I just have, um, my back hurts… pretty bad today. I thought I’d handle it, but…” He groans without meaning to, it feels like so much energy just to talk. “I’m so sorry, honey. I’m not… not gonna be much of a daddy today.”

Mina frowns at him, her big brown eyes locked on his.

It isn’t supposed to be like this.

Abraham found a way to leave him one last goddamn gift, a present he never unwrapped or asked for and would do anything to give back.

“I’ll get your phone,” Mina says seriously, and comes further in, dragging RiffRaff behind her, the stuffed giraffe with a neck long enough to approach pure absurdity. A gift from Ryan, one among many.

She moves quickly across the floor with her little bare feet padding, a flash of brown stomach showing as her too-small shirt rides up. She has to stretch up again to pull Danny’s cell phone down from the bookshelf, and he watches her, thinking, by next year you won’t have to go on your toes, by two years you won’t want me to be the first thing you see any longer, by thirteen you’ll be slamming doors in my face, will I still be lying here with my back refusing to let me be the parent I wanted to be for you?

“Sad Daddy face,” Mina says, slapping the cell phone down next to him. “Dad would poke your nose.”

“He would,” Danny says, and manages a small smile. “Honey, I’m trying, but I think we have to call Dad back home from work. I can’t… I can’t get out of the bed. I’m sorry, Mina, but it’s not… it’s not gonna work today.”

“Yes it can,” Mina says, with a stubborn set to her jaw she gets from Nate, not that Nate has ever noticed he does it. Danny finds a small smile, at the sight. Adopted or not, Mina is Nate Vandrum’s daughter through and through - already reading some words, already curling up with a book to turn the pages and make up stories about the pictures she sees on the page. Already a serious little girl, a tiny adult.

“I don’t see how,” Danny replies, shifting minutely in the bed, just trying to move onto his side, hissing when his back protests once again.

“We do like when I get sick,” Mina says, softly. “I can open the fridge all by myself and my stuffies and my loveys can sit with us and we can do like when I’m sick.” She considers, and he sees a sudden gleam of mischief in her. “I can have my screen?” She asks, sidling a little closer to the bed.

Danny swallows, and looks down at his cell phone. It’s 7:30 in the morning. The lecture Nate has been planning for happens for his 10 AM class, and he can move his office hours maybe if Danny gives him enough notice to put up a sign…

Hey Nate, he texts, keeping his eyes on Mina, who watches his texting with interest and a clearly increasing certainty that she is going to get exactly what she wants out of this. Bad back day. Fine rn but cn you come home after lecture plz?

“Gonna get to watch princesses,” Mina says, with evident delight. “And eat Lunchables.”

“Sssshhhh,” Danny says, but he can’t quite hold back his own smile in response to his daughter’s. “Daddy being sick isn’t supposed to be something you look forward to, baby.”

His phone vibrates in his hand and he glances down.

Danny, please use full words, that drives me up the wall when you type like that.

“I can’t believe you took the time to write that out,” Danny mutters to himself, but his smile widens even more. He can feel the stretch of scar tissue along his nose and jaw, even this long after Abraham’s death the marks are there, fading but never gone. “Mina, only your Dad uses correct punctuation in his f-... his text messages.”

“Writing is important,” Mina recites in her best impersonation of Nate, pitching her voice hilariously low. Danny laughs out loud despite the way the motion seems to stab whole new little daggers up and down his spine. He’ll be damned if he’ll let a little agony stop him from appreciating his daughter.

Another message comes in and he glances down.

I’ll be home by 12:30. Bringing ramen from the place you like and gyoza for Mina. Do you want me to just cancel and come home now?

No, fine. Just after lunch is good.

Whether Nate believes him or not, he doesn’t know, but he drops back to lay his head down on the pillow, watching Mina watch him right back. “Okay, honey. Dad will be home after lunch. So we just have to… to make this work for a few hours, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy. I��ll be right back.” With that, Mina throws RiffRaff onto the bed next to Danny and goes running back out. All he can do is lay there, feeling spectacularly useless, while he listens and hopes that she isn’t taking this moment to color on all the walls or break a bunch of things or learn how to set the house on fire.

When she finally returns, she is dragging her small travel suitcase - the one with some kind of cartoon character whose name he can’t remember - behind her like an overworked flight attendant at the end of a long day. “Okay… Daddy…” Mina says, comically out of breath. “I brought… everything.”

He realizes she never actually zipped the suitcase when she simply overturns the whole thing and Danny stares, trapped on the bed, as it opens up and dumps a chaotic mixture of toys and food and her favorite blankets onto his bedroom floor.

“Jesus Christ, Mina,” Danny whispers, eyes wide.

“Jesus Christ, Superstar,” Mina sings happily in response. Not a single note is on key, and Danny thinks maybe adoption doesn’t matter and Mina is his child too. “Do you think you’re what they say you are? Okay, Daddy, I got… I got us stuff for sick. Can I get up on the bed with you?”

Danny looks at the roughly mound-shaped pile of things on the floor, then slowly up at his daughter. “Can we… can we do something about all your stuff first?”

“It’s your stuff, too. Look!” Mina digs into the pile with enthusiasm, and the first thing she pulls out is Danny’s bottle of pain medication.

Hi, I’m Daniel Michaelson, and my baby brings me my fucking pain meds. Pin the medal on the father of the fucking year.

“Oh my God,” Danny whispers. Someone is going to psychically know this happened and he’ll lose her, and he can’t lose her, not because of his stupid back, not because of goddamn Abraham fucking Denner-

“I pushed a chair up to the counter and climbed up and got in the special cupboard,” Mina says seriously, giving him the bottle. He takes it with shaking fingers, his heart so gripped with guilt it’s like it has to work harder to beat. “Where you keep medicine. I can open the lock now and I put my feet in the sink!”

Danny is going to hell for being a bad father, he knows it. He knows it, and he knows your four-year-old stood in your sink to dig out your fucking pills, you fucking whiner is going to be the first thing the Devil says to him.

Maybe he’ll get to suffer right next to Abraham.

Maybe Abraham’s the demon set to make him sorry for everything all over again.

“Daddy, stop,” Mina says, looking a little nervous at the look on Danny’s face. “Dad always gets you medicine when your back is bad. Am I in time-out?”

“Um. Uh… no, honey. Just… just don’t do that, um, again. And don’t ever, ever tell Dad you know how to get into the medicine cabinet. Okay?”

“Okay.” Mina drops back down to the pile, and brings up a small bottle of the cold brew they buy in a pack of six at the store. She hands that to Danny, too, taking to her work with perfect seriousness. All he can do is watch her as he swallows two pills dry and then washes them down with the coffee.

There.

An hour, and he’ll be able to move around in the bed, at least, even if he’ll still hurt too badly to get all the way up. His back is like that - on bad days you can’t get rid of the pain, only make it a little less debilitating. Most bad days he can keep himself moving through sheer momentum, and everyone tells him he must be feeling better and he doesn’t know how to tell them that his baseline changed, back when Abraham first held him captive - he and Nate in the woods in Canada.

Long before the blade broke off in his back, there were days of bruises, battering, and beating. He starved and never slept and hurt like hell.

People think pain ebbs and flows, but the tide is never fully out for Danny. There is always a whisper of oceanwater promising a later tsunami.

While he lays there watching her, Mina picks out her stuffies and loveys, one by one, and begins to lay them throughout the bed. In the backyard, distantly, Danny hears Toto barking - the high-pitched bark that means he’s treed something again. At least somebody is having fun, Danny thinks.

“Okay, Daddy,” Mina says, laying a series of stuffed animals carefully around his head and lightly against his shoulders as he forces himself to shift onto his back on the bed, closing his eyes against the way the pain drains all the blood from his face and his fingers, leaving everything cold and numb as it’s his spine where the nerves light up in fire. “You can have RiffRaff today, and Mister Bones, and Zombie Monkey, and She-Ra, and Ugly, and Bo. I’m going to keep the rest.”

Danny takes a deep breath. “Honey, did you leave any of your animals in your room?”

“No,” Mina answers with a shrug. She clambers back down and comes back with her tablet, which she smacks down a little too hard on Danny’s stomach. He winces and hisses, and her eyes go wide. “Oh, your tummy is sick? I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“N-No, baby, it’s okay. It’s… yikes. I’ll pull a, um, a movie up for you, okay?”

“Princess movie!”

“Can we… watch literally anything else, baby?”

Mina juts her lower lip out and sets her jaw. “Princess movie, Daddy.” She says, stubbornly. When Danny responds with silence and a raised eyebrow, she lets the pout go and gives him a disarming, charming smile instead. “I mean, Daddy-can-I-please-watch-princesses?” She asks, batting her eyelashes and everything, the words all run together the way she always does when she has to ask nicely.

Danny sighs, but it’s with a smile on his face. “Yeah, okay, honey. What else do you have on the floor?”

“Um, some toys, and… this!” Mina holds up two matching Lunchables in the air like she’s declaring victory.

Honestly, she probably is.

“Lunchables for breakfast, huh?” Well, there are worse things in the world, Danny thinks to himself. At least it’s not drugs, right? Yeah, there’s a good bar for good parenting, whether or not your four year old prefers Lunchables or… cocaine or something.

“I need these fucking pills to kick in,” Danny mutters, not realizing he’s speaking out loud until Mina turns to look at him, wide-eyed.

“Daddy,” She says, sounding absolutely scandalized. “You’re not supposed to say that word anymore, Dad said-”

“I know what Dad said,” Danny says, gesturing carefully with one arm, moving as few of his back muscles as possible to do it. “Climb on up here, honey. Let’s do Lunchables. I’ll put a dollar in the jar when I can stand up, okay?”

She nods and climbs up with him. Danny carefully opens the Lunchables for her with his teeth gritted. There’s another thing they didn’t tell him, before it was his life - that sometimes even doing tiny things like tearing the perforated opening off the side of a cardboard Lunchables box could hurt so badly. People think they know what a backache is.

They don’t know.

But then Mina takes the Capri Sun and puts it aside and makes herself a tiny ham-and-cheese sandwich using the little cracker in the box, and some of Danny’s stubborn self-pity starts to slide away, eroded by her cheerful smile. “Elsa with the water horse?” She asks. “Can we do that princess movie?”

“Frozen 2,” Danny corrects absently, scanning through the Disney movies on the tablet with casual swipes of his finger. She never asks for the new princess movies, only the ones from before she was born. Once the movie starts, the sound small and tinny coming from the tablet, Danny settles himself back against the pillows and hands her the screen. She pulls out his arm - he holds back the sounds of pain at the stretch of muscle - and then snuggles in against his side, pulling RiffRaff back into her own lap, her fuzzy black hair brushing softly against the roughened scar tissue on Danny’s neck.

He manages to turn his head and kiss her, on the top of her head. “Just a few hours until Dad gets home,” Danny whispers. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’ll be a better Daddy tomorrow.”

He hopes.

Mina is watching the opening previews and doesn’t look at him or even seem to hear what he said.

By ten, Danny’s been able to get up and use the bathroom, at least, and brush his teeth. That’s his second victory, he decides, in a day where they don’t come easy.

Around eleven, right in the middle of Nate giving the lecture he’s been working so hard on, Danny and Mina fall asleep listening to The Princess and the Frog, a firefly singing to the evening star.

Nate comes home at half past noon with the ramen in hand. He sets it down on the kitchen table and lets Toto back in, the scruffy shelter dog all wagging tails and half-wild jumps. Nate gets him slowly calmed down, and listens. “D-Danny? You around?”

Nothing.

“Mina? Baby? Where are you and D-Daddy?”

Still nothing. Nate frowns - Danny hadn’t answered his text asking what kind of ramen he wanted, and he’d thought maybe Danny was playing with Mina in the toyroom and hadn’t heard - but when he checks, they aren’t in there either.

Finally, he heads upstairs, and halfway up he realizes he can hear the tinny sounds of music coming from their bedroom. He stops in the doorway to stare down at a small, scattered pile of plastic horses, a tiny baby doll, dollhouse furniture, and at least one Pegasus next to his daughter’s suitcase for when they travel to see Danny’s parents.

There’s a soft exhalation, and he turns to look at his husband and daughter asleep on the bed.

The tablet has been discarded, off to the empty side of the king-sized bed. It’s still playing the menu for one of the Disney movies, although Nate can’t remember which one this menu screen is for.

Danny is on his side, with his knees curled, some of the age fallen off of his face His hair is a mess of bright red with hints of silver over his eyes - he’s had silvery strands in his hair since Alberta, the first time Abraham held him - and spread out across the pillows. His hands aren’t up to cover his head - he hasn’t done that in a few years now.

Instead, he has one hand curled up against himself, and the other arm flung over his sleeping daughter. Mina has her head under his chin, on her side as well, and her face is buried against his neck and his collarbone. The two of them breathe nearly in unison, and they are absolutely suffocating in Mina’s favorite stuffed animals and the remains of empty Lunchables packages.

Next to the bed, on the side table, is a half-drunk bottle of iced coffee and Danny’s pain medication. Nate swallows - Danny never takes pills until it’s so bad he can’t move or Nate forces him to. Too afraid, even now, that taking a few pills would lead him right back to relying on fuzzying up his mind to shake away the memories that still threaten when the room is dark.

Nate considers just closing the door and heading back downstairs to eat alone, but Toto comes barreling past his legs and runs into the room, taking a bodily leap onto the bed, all forty pounds of him trying to wriggle between Danny and Mina to try and lick both their faces at once.

Danny jerks awake, eyes fluttering and blinking rapidly, pushing instinctively back Mina groans and rolls over, scooting away, trying to slip right back to sleep the way kids sometimes do.

“H-Hey, Toto,” Danny slurs, getting his hands on the excited dog and gently moving him back. “Hey, bud, how did you get inside…”

“I let him in,” Nate says softly, and Danny turns to look at him. His face is pale and drawn, but the smile when he greets Nate is real.

“Oh, hey,” Danny says, pushing himself up onto his elbows. “Sorry to call you home early, I just-... it’s just not a good day for my back. Mina and I decided to… to just take a break in here-”

“Danny, you’ve been in here all day, haven’t you?” Nate sighs. “Don’t l-lie to me.”

“It’s fine,” Danny says, shaking his head. Mina groans again, but her eyes are open now, and she rolls back over. “It’s fine, I’ll do better tomorrow, I’ll… I’ll try harder-”

“Danny,” Nate says, firmly, and it’s only then that Danny seems to realize what he just said. His face pales a little more, making the healing muzzle scars stand out in a ring around his face. “You don’t h-have to. I don’t m-m-mind coming home.”

“Hello, Dad,” Mina says blearily, scooting back to Danny now that Toto is safely sitting far enough back to give her spot back to her, snuggling right back into him. “Did you bring food?”

“I d-did, honey. Have you and Daddy had fun this morning?”

Danny winces, guilt written clearly across his face. “I’ll be better tomorrow, I’ll do better, I can... can try harder-”

“Danny, stop it,” Nate says, a little more edged this time.

“We had so much fun, Dad,” Mina says cheerfully, and Danny turns to look at her, surprised. “We ate Lunchables for breakfast. I always want to and you never let me! And Daddy said a bad word so he has to put money in the jar again-”

“Hey, you said you wouldn’t tell,” Danny says with fake anger, and Mina makes a face at him until he smiles.

“And I got to have all my friends in your bed even though I’m not supposed to and we watched princess movies and I got to pick the movies and Daddy played Stuffy Fight with me!”

“So you d-did have fun,” Nate says gently, and Mina nods.

Danny sits back, closing his eyes briefly, and Nate watches the way his face stills, and knows he’s holding back emotion that wants to write itself there that he doesn’t want to show. Nate sits down, lightly resting on the side of the bed, and slides a hand behind Danny’s head, leaning in to give him a kiss.

“Don’t s-sell yourself short,” Nate says gently. “You’re a g-g-good dad, Daniel Michaelson. Even on b-bad days. But… call me n-next time. Listen to me. You’re a good dad.”

There’s a pause.

Then Mina leans slowly over and says, “I got Daddy’s pills down from the cabinet for him.”

Nate turns to look at her, blinking, as Danny groans and puts his hands up over his eyes. “Oh my God, Mina, I did not ask you and you promised not to tell-”

“Okay,” Nate says, with exaggerated patience. “I am going to pr-pretend I did not h-h-hear either of the things either of y-you just said, and go g-g-get the trays and our r-r-ramen and gyoza. Please n-n-never explain it to me. Ever.”

Danny nods without taking his hands down.

Nate gets all the way downstairs, gets the food settled on the TV trays, and Danny has slurped up his first bite of noodles when Nate finally sighs and says, “You know wh-what, I lied - I need to know exactly how you explain-”

“I didn’t tell Daddy until after I did it,” Mina says brightly, picking up the little fried dumpling with her fingers.

“... and there it is. Let’s eat b-b-before I panic, at l-least.”

“I know how to open the special lock! I can open under the sink now, too!”

“... okay, too l-late, I’m panicking now.”

#whump #I feel like I want to call this parenting whump #emotional whump #trauma recovery whump #tw: chronic pain #tw: references to past torture #original fiction #dad fluff #epilogue #mina vandrum #mina and her dads #writing #oblique references to things that haven't happened in the Bad Arc yet

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 4 years

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Hurt, pt. 11 (E.D.)

Summary: Y/N’s in for a surprise.

Warnings: ANGST, slight fluff, swearing, talk of depression

Word Count: 2900

Hurt - Masterlist

Knocking on Grayson’s office door as she enters, Y/N tilted her head to the left which always meant trouble.

“Silly question, but, um…did you by any chance tell my landlord that I won’t be returning to the apartment?” She kept her voice airy and sweet, but there was nothing sweet about the subtle glare she had sent his way.

“You know the apartment, right? The one I got because I had no home to come back to, right? The one I hadn’t gone to because the pregnancy got a little iffy so I stayed with you until I got cleared which happened a week ago and now I wanted to go home and found all my stuff is gone and my lease is up?”

Grayson swallowed thickly as he stared at her, wondering what excuse he could come up with so quickly that would save him from the hurricane she could turn into at any given moment. After all, if this was a cartoon, he’d see steam coming out of her head by now.

“Figured it would be safer for you to stay with us until birth. Clara loves having you around and you’re wasting money on a place you’re never at.” Grayson shrugged, hoping that careless looking gesture won’t result in his imminent death.

“That’s very thoughtful of you…if only your brother wasn’t going to come home and be in a shouting distance away from me while I’m trying to figure my life out!” She closed the door behind her, walking over to the chair across from his desk. She needed to settle down because her backaches had decided to start early on. She didn’t want to think about what it would feel like once the babies actually grew bigger.

“Look, Ethan isn’t looking to make your life harder. He just wants a chance. The man who broke your heart isn’t the same man you’re going to see when he gets out, okay?” Grayson sighed as she dropped her gaze. She always does that when Ethan is mentioned. Grayson thought it to be a form of self-defense, a way to tune out the world and center herself. Perhaps it was also a way to hide the emotion in her eye at the sound of his name for her eyes always betrayed her.

“I’m asking you like a brother, please give him a chance to prove he won’t hurt you again.” Grayson felt strongly about Ethan’s way of doing things in the past, but he swore an oath to himself to try and rectify things with him. It’s never just about who fights with you side by side during the battle, it’s also about those who stay to help clean the battlefield and Grayson promised himself to do both.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t see him again. Or talk to him. Because I want to. I need to. But there are things you can’t jump into and for me, this is one of those things.” Sighing, Y/N readjusted herself in the chair, her previous position no longer helping with the back pain.

“You know I’m sort of seeing someone, right?” Grayson’s heart dropped. He assumed she might like someone, but for her to admit to it officially was bad. It raised every single red flag in his mind.

“Well then, if you’ve found your missing treasure, shall we go? I hate to hurry you, but I really have to get back to the hospital and I’m sure you would rather be anywhere but here.” Edward smiled softly, his subtle jabs didn’t go unnoticed despite how he tried to make it all sound.

“This is my home, Ed. Plus, I’m staying with my brother in law across from this plot, so I’m gonna stay a little longer, okay?” She told herself she would be honest with Edward and she kept that promise so far. She didn’t feel quite ready to leave the house because not even a minute inside, she had felt herself relax. Some of the memories haunted her, but she still felt right. Although, the house didn’t feel quite like home without Ethan.

“You know I didn’t mean anything bad by what I said, right?”

“I mean, he’s aware of my situation and we’re taking it so slow that I haven’t even kissed him. It’s like…friendship with potential to be something more and I want to explore that.” Clasping her hands together in her lap, she averted her gaze to where her wedding ring used to sit. The empty place was still something she had to get used to and she didn’t deny it or lie to herself about it anymore. She loves Ethan Dolan and yes, he hurt her and yes, she still wants him in her life. She isn’t ashamed to admit it.

“Is it that doctor?” Grayson’s voice is gruff, his body stiff and Y/N knows he’s not too fond of the idea.

“Yes. But that’s…Edward knows how I feel about Ethan. He knows I’m pregnant and about to swell up like a whale. He knows all that, but he looks past it. For the first time in a while, I feel seen. I feel wanted. So, please, don’t make me out to be the bad guy. Don’t judge me on how I choose to fix what Ethan broke.” She didn’t get to finish before Grayson stood up so abruptly his chair fell back and startled Y/N into a gasp.

“I know. But you do know I’m still very much married and I’m not sure that’s going to change, right?” Y/N countered, moving closer to Edward’s tall frame. He nodded, biting his lip hard enough for Y/N to feel her heart clench for him. She didn’t want to hurt him, but if he keeps insisting he is fine with her past, she considered her hands to be clean.

“Much aware. Thanks.” His dry response had made her sigh, heavily so. She liked Edward. She enjoyed his company. She found his mind just as sexy as his body and she wanted to be close with him. Closer.

“I hate saying it, but I’m sure you’re aware of my attraction to you too. And it’s okay if it’s not mutual because being friends is just fine with me as well because I’m far from ready to actively date someone, but I think you should know. If you feel the same way, you need to know I’m not ready for serious feelings and all that relationship stuff. I have my plate full with the pregnancy and the feelings I still have for Ethan. It’s not something that goes away overnight.” Tired of rambling while he just stared at her with his big, blue eyes, Y/N stopped to take a proper breath. She expected him to have so much to say in response, especially since she had openly admitted that he’d never be a priority in her life. Her children come first…Ethan second. At least for now he does. But Edward had just one thing to say and he said it with a smile.

“You like me?”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to be so dramatic.” Grayson chuckled as he walked around his desk and lowered himself to his knees before Y/N. Taking her hands into his, he spoke.

“Stay with us until birth. It will give you and Ethan a chance to heal at your own pace and the rest of us peace of mind. Mum offered you to stay with her, but you know how she can get.” Grayson raised an eyebrow as he remembered all the ways his mother goes overboard when one of them isn’t feeling good and with Y/N and three grandchildren in mind? She’d drive Y/N crazy within a week.

“Okay, okay. But no more waking auntie up before eleven o'clock, okay? I’m on a leave and I need to sleep before these tiny humans take over my life!”

Agreeing with Grayson, Y/N had returned to their home.

Turning around, she looked back at her old house longingly. Ever since she went back to see the ring Bianca mentioned, Y/N had felt the house calling for her. While she could fight it on most days, Y/N had found herself drawn today. Siren's song was a joke in comparison to the magnetic pull she felt in her heart, her legs moving closer to it on their own accord.

She couldn’t come inside. Not when her heart felt like it moved to her throat and her breathing turned erratic at the idea. No. Y/N decided on something she deemed a lesser evil – she decided to sit on the porch swing she had been observing fondly for so long.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU ACTUALLY DID THIS FOR ME!” Y/N cried out as she nearly tackled Ethan to the ground in her glee, her eyes spilling tears like a dam broke. She rarely cried, but this gesture – this kind, selfless gesture motivated by pure, unadulterated love – this was worth crying for.

“Don’t cry.” Ethan’s voice turned small and soft, gentle like a lover’s touch and she couldn’t help but cry harder at the sweetness in his tone. She always knew his tough act was a just that – an act, but when he would drop the act around her, she couldn’t quite help herself from falling deeper in love. Ethan was always so incredibly kind, tender, loving and she never knew how he was known as the intimidating twin. What she knew of him could never come close to it. Ethan she knows is as intimidating as a kitten.

“Do you not like the color? Or placement? I can change it all!” He continued, his voice drawing a smile to her face. To be so loved by someone like she felt loved by Ethan Dolan, it’s truly a blessing. She had thought herself to be unlovable as she was growing up. Y/N was never the type the guys would lose their minds over, or ask to the dance, or facetime until 3 am. Y/N was the overlooked girl, the forgettable kind…the girl guys approached solely to ask if she could hook them up with her friends. But with Ethan? She was the only girl in the world.

“No, no, no.” She chuckled, sniffling in her attempt to speak up.

“Don’t change a damn thing. I love it and I love you and I cannot put into words just how much this swing means to me.”

The swing she had once adored felt like a teasing ghost. It stood witness to every kiss, every caress, every moment that had mattered between her and Ethan that she had a hard time even looking at it. But she knew it was ridiculous to fear an object or a memory. In the spirit of changing, Y/N walked right up to the porch and sat down on the swing. It creaked slightly as she put her weight on it fully, reminding her of the time she asked Ethan to see why it’s creaking and he promised her he’d do it.

Three days later they weren’t even living together anymore.

Closing her eyes, she let the silence of the house calm her down. She wasn’t quite used to the silence, finding it eerie at first because usually one of them was inside blasting music. The silence took some time to get used to, but when she did, Y/N felt at peace.

Until she heard footsteps so near that her heart jumped at the sound.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” Ethan bit his lip nervously, standing five feet away from her with a bag thrown over his shoulder. His eyes were dark, but not with lust as they used to be…this was something much deeper. Something she didn’t understand.

“It’s okay. I suppose I’m sort of trespassing.” She smiled, deciding to be kind. She wanted to show him the kindness he showed her when he made this swing. And yes, she knew a lot of the work was done by Grayson, but Ethan tried and that’s all she ever wanted from him. She wanted him to care enough to try.

“You’re not. The house is in both our names, remember?” Ethan kinked his left eyebrow, probably unaware just how much she missed seeing that. She missed his kinked eyebrows and she missed his stupid smirks and his annoyingly beautiful voice. She missed him.

“Wanna sit?” She tapped the spot beside her, the left side where he’d usually sit. She’d read a book and drink her tea, her legs secured in his lap as he watched something on his phone. Sitting like that, in silence, no words needed? That was comfortable. It takes a certain amount of love and understanding for two people to be comfortable enough to sit in silence, knowing their silence doesn’t represent something bad, but a good sign.

Ethan didn’t sit on the porch swing for two months before they split. Unbeknownst to Y/N, he hadn’t taken that seat since she left. The swing felt like a sacred place he never let Bianca or anyone else occupy after.

But he took the seat now, feeling like it’s time to face it all. With her by his side, rightfully so.

“Now…wanna tell me why you look like a kicked puppy? Is this…uh…Is that part of being depressed? Because I only saw your eyes look like that once before and I can’t tell anymore.” She didn’t know how to talk to him anymore. Aware that the last thing he needs from her is to see him as a broken toy she can no longer be open with, she decided to be honest. She couldn’t look at him like someone who needed to be fixed. She wanted to be there for him without coddling him when it’s not necessary. Sometimes, he’ll need her to be brutally honest and sometimes she’ll tell him a little white lie, but she still didn’t know when.

Chuckling, Ethan’s face lit up. He knew she was trying to be nice, supportive. He knew she was nervous too and that he caught her off guard because he was supposed to be home two days ago but stayed a little longer and she didn’t expect to see him here today. He understood she was trying her best and that’s something he could appreciate.

“I was a little scared to come home,” Ethan admits, pressing his palms together before securing his hands between his thighs.

“I’m scared to be that guy again. And this house is like a haunted house for me right now. It doesn’t feel like home without you in it and I’m not saying that to guilt you into anything, I’m just trying to be honest about it.” Ethan clarified, his words ringing truth because Y/N felt the same. She knew exactly what he meant. It’s as if all the colors of the world would fade once she walked inside.

“I feel the same way. It’s not very…hospitable without you.” Moving closer, Y/N debated whether she should lean her head on his shoulder or not. She didn’t want to give him false hope of reconciliation until she was sure of where her heart and head are at. However, she also didn’t know if it would be false hope considering just how badly she wanted to lift her legs into his lap and sit there in silence, just watching each other – studying the changes made in the personalities since they last had a heart to heart conversation. She wanted to learn him all over again, but she was terrified of opening herself up to heartbreak again.

Connecting to Edward was easy – her heart was fond of him, but it didn’t bleed for him like it did for Ethan. Ethan made her vulnerable and to put herself in that position again, it scared the life out of her.

“I’m glad you were here though. It’s a little easier to breathe when I don’t have to face it alone.” Ethan pressed his thighs harder to trap his hands more securely. He felt his hands itch to reach out for Y/N, to just touch her. Aware that might be unwanted, he knew he had to reel it in. So he pressed his thighs tighter.

“I know we’re in shambles right now, but you can count on me if you need me. Okay? And I…I’ll be just over the bridge. Literally, just shout my name and I’ll come, because you’re not alone Ethan. But keep in mind I’m getting bigger and slower and I might need a bit of help, so don’t time me.” She smiled when her words made him giggle. She hadn’t heard his choked giggles in so long that her heart felt like flying once she did.

“I missed you,” Ethan admits, glancing her way to see her reaction and all he saw was a woman who didn’t know how to feel.

“Ethan…” She spoke, stopping herself from saying anything else.

“I wanted you to know. That’s all.” Smiling, he tried not to beg her to stay as she stood up to leave.

Nodding, she walked off the porch only to stop at the last step. Turning to meet his lingering gaze, Y/N had done something she told herself she wouldn’t.

“I missed you too.”

She gave Ethan hope.

Tags: @melodiesforari @brittttneyyyy @beautorigin @dolandolll @xalayx @godlydolans @heyits-claire @peacedolantwins @dolanstwintuesday @accalialionheart @ethanhes @lanadeldolans @ebbach-03 @dolangels @xxaamzxx @cutestdolans @yaren-ates @dolansmith @vintagebitttch @primadolangirl @caqsicle @jjustjoy @justordinaryjen @graydolan12 @imaginashawnns @graysonslovie @fandomsfeministsandothershit @bdsmdolan @graysavant @ethanspillow @dopedoodes @anything-dolan @sugarfootdolan @joyrivh @reblogserpent @jonesana @emiemille @herewegoagainandagainandagain @adventureswithmell

#ethan dolan #ethan dolan x reader #dolan twins #grayson dolan #ethan dolan angst #ethan dolan x you #ethan dolan x y/n #ethan dolan au #ethan dolan series #ethan dolan fanfic #ethan dolan fic #ethan dolan fanfiction #dolan twins fic #dolan twins fanfic

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mwolf0epsilon · 4 years

Note

Sammy and Norman. One of them gets drafted? The goodbyes, the worry, maybe never get to see the other again ?

Summary: The battlefield took his arm and a finger, and maybe a little bit of his sanity, but that studio took much more from everyone else. It took their mind, soul and body.

---

Dread had been a creeping stalker from the moment he'd witnessed many of his neighbors being called upon to help in the war efforts. It had followed Sammy around like a wolf in the shadows, making him fret for what he considered an inevitability of sorts. As the man of a household it only made sense that he'd be singled out as another viable soldier despite being the least capable sort to be found in a war.

A man of the arts, with careful and gentle fingers. Cannon fodder at best.

It was a harrowing feeling, because it truly made him fear for what may happen to his dear little sister without him around.

So really, one should be more sympathetic when his turn did come up and his only reaction was to fall to his knees in despair.

He had two days to make preparations. Then he'd be sent out with the rest of the sheep to the slaughter.

"You're leaving?!" Joey Drew, as slow as he was to move about without that silly looking cane of his, was much too fast getting to his feet for Sammy's liking. He shot up from his seat like a serpent ready to strike at any moment.

The safety of a desk between a scared mouse and a vile snake was a comfort.

"I don't have a choice in the matter." The blond kept his composure despite knowing quite well what Joey was more than capable of doing if he felt like he'd been crossed. He'd rather be scorned by the devil than be labeled a traitor to his country.

One of these outcomes had a 50% chance of survival. "I've been drafted. In two days I'll be sent off to die in a nonsensical war."

"But your obligations to the studio! We need you here to put a tune to the cartoons!"

"My obligations?! Joey, I've been drafted. I can't kindly decline!" Sammy exclaimed in disbelief. "It's not like picking what you want to eat at lunch. If I try to skirt around this I'll be as good as dead."

"If you go you'll most certainly be dead, and then who's going to compose for the studio?!" Joey's tone had a hint of accusation, as if Sammy wanted this to happen. Might as well blame him for the war while he was at it.

"It's a fucking cartoon, Joey! My life is worth more than your stupid pictures!" His blood was beginning to boil. "I'm leaving and that's that. I'm dropping off the rest of my scores so Jack can finish them up, and I'm conducting the band one last time today. But tomorrow I ain't coming in because I'm helping my sister move out."

"You can't do this to me! How am I supposed to find a composer on such short notice?!" Joey slammed his hands on the table. From the looks of it, he was seething.

"Figure it out. You're the boss aren't you?!" Sammy turned away from the shaking Joey and walked out of his office. He felt strangely lighter on his feet. For once, arguing with his employer didn't make him feel vulnerable.

It was great, despite the circumstances.

"I can't believe you're going to war... Sammy that's..." Jack's reaction to the news was a tearful one. It was quite sobering after getting a little giddy from getting under Joey's skin with no real consequences. "I'm gonna miss you."

"Aww... I'll miss you too, you big softy." The blond gave the shorter and pudgier man a pat on the shoulder, allowing him to squeeze his midsection in a tight hug. "You're going to be the man of the house now. Don't let the band trample over you... Those savages can sniff out weakness like a pack of hungry hyenas."

"They're not that bad. You're just easy to rile up, is all." Jack teased, laughing when Sammy gave him a pointed look.

"You know as well as I do that Joey will go after the head of a department if the lackeys slack off." He ignored the few glares he got from said 'lackeys'. "And this bunch gets what it deserves for being a bunch of children on the job."

"Can you leave sooner?!"

"Fuck you too Johnny! I hope your pipe organ falls on you!"

Jack cackled, which got a few other band members to crack up as well. Sammy too found himself smiling. Despite the frustration of leading this group of hellions through a carefully composed song, he'd miss the few occasionally humorous banters and mishaps.

He'd especially miss his good friend and pal. He could only hope the stress wouldn't get to Jack while he was away.

People either gave him knowing pitiful looks, complimented his bravery in confronting Joey over his leaving on such short notice, or gave him a vague 'nice working with you, good luck' sort of gesture.

Word had spread through the departments and Sammy felt genuinely impressed at how quickly people went from detesting his presence to sucking up just to save face. No one wanted to be that one guy who was a dick to a soon to be dead patriot.

Susie absolutely smothered him with tearful kisses and tight hugs. She was a mess and, in return, he felt a mess as well.

He didn't want to leave...

"I'll see you off tomorrow." She whispered in his ear during a particularly long hug in the recording booth. "For good luck."

"Thank you doll..." He held on to her for as long as he could. "I'm going to miss this."

"Getting cried on?"

"Just being with you. You make my world so much brighter..."

"Sammy Lawrence you're such a sap, I love you." Susie giggles into his chest.

"Love you too Susiebell."

They'd parted ways, Sammy to collect his belongings and Susie to freshen up in one of the women's bathrooms.

On the way he encountered Norman while passing by the stairs that lead to his booth.

"Who'd have thought..."

"Hm?" He looked up at the projectionist who was staring down from his vantage point. Norman backed off and went for the stairs, meeting him halfway.

"My pa was military. He did things a particular sorta way." Norman explained "Includin' raising his kids in a rather peculiar fashion."

"That would explain your... Eccentricity." Sammy rolled his eyes, which got a laugh out of the older man.

"N'aw. I'm just the weird one... My siblings are pretty normal folk." He chuckled "But I digress. Thing is, my pa would wake us up at 5 in the morning, to do drills with us. 'Case of emergency he always did say... There's a war out there now and yous would think they'd call on me to help."

"Haven't they?" Sammy frowned.

"No." Norman's smile gradually faded. "My eye. It ain't no good, so they decided to call on my little brother instead..."

"....Shit."

"Uh-huh. Was lookin' for ya to tell ya. Your sister can still move in. Nelson's just gonna be the head o' the house instead."

"What about income? Who'll pay the rent and bills?" He felt uneasy about the situation. "They're still too young."

"I'll help with expenses ta best I can, but my little niece and nephew is looking for work. I'd advise your sister do ta same. Times gonna get rough Sammy."

"They are... Thanks Norman." The blond worried his bottom lip. "For helping."

"Well I'll be... Sammy Lawrence thankin' me for being a decent fella. What a day."

"Fuck you."

"You offerin' dinner first?"

"GOD!" He threw up his hands in defeat, which got a good hearty laugh out of the projectionist. "I'll be around your brother's tomorrow then. Good luck with Drew. I got a feeling he'll be extra surly in my absence."

"Can't imagine why. Poor Grant will go nuts if he hires an entire orchestra's worth o' folks to substitute yous."

The music director laughed and went back to what he'd been set to do. It felt nice to hear that he was worth an entire orchestra in someone's eyes.

He hoped Norman wouldn't have a hard time.

Saying goodbye to his sister felt like a death march in its own right. He spent the entire day helping her move her belongings to the younger Polks's house. Her two friends were good help, and they even offered him tea and told him to rest whenever he got winded.

The boy, Nelson, warned him that he'd need to train his resistance if he wanted to survive the military drills. The family cat was much more sympathetic, seeming less worried about his physical capacity and more content with having a warm lap to sit on and a set of dexterous fingers to give it some good scratches.

When they'd finished, Sammy had taken his sister out to lunch. They'd run around town just having fun, something he'd rarely been able to do while working at the studio.

Then came the time to go.

To his surprise the train station was packed with a few studio workers.

Susie, Norman, Jack, Wally, Emma, Shawn, Grant and even a few of the band members had come to see him off.

He wasn't ashamed to admit he cried like a baby getting to say goodbye all over again. It felt good to be cared about, even if he wasn't the easiest person to be around of. The only other person that cried just as hard was his poor sister.

"Please come back, I can't lose my grumpy brother." The pleading broke his heart. He couldn't promise he'd come back which was what made this so upsetting.

"I'm not grumpy, just misunderstood." He retorted playfully in between hiccups.

"You're a grumpy butt, grumpiest goof there ever was." A tearful chuckle. His little Abby was flushed and covered in snot and tears. They were both very gross criers.

"Slander! I'm a misunderstood suffering artist." They pulled away and Sammy made sure to take a handkerchief from his pocket and begin trying to clean his sister's face. "Be good to your little friends. I'll try to write to you as much as I can..."

"I will... Please be careful Samuel." She pulled that old doll he'd given her and handed it over to him. Seamus had seen better days, well loved that he was. "Both of you have to come back."

He took her doll and smiled a sincere but rather sad smile.

"I'll do my best Abigail."

His best was not enough, but damn if he wasn't a stubborn son of a bitch. He'd return with her doll, even if he had to drag himself all the way back.

Henry gave him a sympathetic look as both descended the lift with Boris looking at them uneasily. They'd pleased Alice enough that they'd gotten the tommy gun from her to complete the last task on her list of demands.

Sammy glanced at the cartoonist with a sad and tired expression. His prosthetic pinkie tapping against his ruined prosthetic arm.

It had already been clunky enough. After a few hits from a Piper, it had become virtually useless other than as a makeshift instrument.

"Are you ready?" Henry asked.

"No... But I never am for this part."

The lift stopped on level 14, and Sammy walked forward. Stamping his feet and kicking up as much ink as possible.

The shrill screech of the Projectionist filled the room as the twisted horror that Norman Polk had become ran forward to evicerate whomever dared intrude upon its domain.

Henry shot it down effortlessly and left Sammy to kneel beside the fallen beast.

The blond sighed sadly, staring at the dying creature with pity, before gently brushing it's back. He could hear Henry moving around, collecting the hearts.

"Shhh... Hush now." He continued to comfort what had once been a friend, feeling the burning gaze of Alice upon him. Judging him. "Sheep, sheep, sheep, It's time for sleep. Rest your head. It's time for bed. In the morning, you may wake. Or in the morning, you'll be dead..."

If it appreciated not being alone as it died, the Projectionist didn't give any indication. But the gentle pawing at his leg made Sammy hopeful that something of Norman remained to thank him before the poor creature went limp for good.

It would reform with no memory of his kindness, but it made his soul feel less heavy with guilt.

"Such a pity." Alice taunted from above. "If only you'd cared and stayed... Maybe less of us would have suffered so greatly."

"I doubt that Susiebell." He replied, uncaring if he would end up enraging her for denying her new identity. "I doubt that..."

The battlefield took his arm and a finger, and maybe a little bit of his sanity, but that studio took much more from everyone else. It took their mind, soul and body.

What was left made Sammy feel hopeless.

#Eps Writes:#Bendy and the Ink Machine #BATIM #Sammy Lawrence

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oh-theatre · 5 years

Text

Objection!: Chapter 1

Chapter title: Defense Rests

A/n: This is it! It's finally here! Idk if this will be read or enjoyed but I finally did it, I'm writing the Lawyer Logicality fic that I wanted to and I really hope you enjoy PLEase Leave CommEnts!! (Also this took so long because I HAD SO MANY DECISIONS TO MAKE SO)

First | Previous | Next

words: 2663

summary: Logan Tolentino and Patton Hart are rival lawyers, Roman Reial is their fanciful Judge and Detective Virgil Tormine has constant run-ins with the pair. From balancing children to murder cases its a whole lot of chaos and romance!

pairings: Eventual logicality, eventual prinxiety, platonic demus

warnings: Killing mention, blood mention, murder mention, planes

Ao3 Link

“Falsehood” Logan declares firmly, he turns to the prosecutor. He had been waiting for a few boring minutes now to finally intervene. This case was cut and dry, there was no need to drag it on. “My client could not have been there on the night in question” He pauses making his way over to the other tables and slamming down a file. The prosecutor eyes him before cautiously looking through the files. And there it was, the man's face falls as he shuffles through. Logan lives for that look, the look of absolute defeat. He turns to face the jury “Due to photographic AND video evidence both previously submitted to the court that my client was home-” He glances over his shoulder back at the prosecutor “All night, the defense rests” He states confidently. He makes his way back to a very starry-eyed client and a very smug look falls on his face. He feels the shock and impressed mark he's made on the jury. With that he leans back in his chair, propping his feet up on the table, he's pushing it but he knows the judge. He glances at the prosecutor and silently bathes in the disappointment that riddles the mans face.

Check

And

Mate

~~~

“Nicely done Logan” A regal voice booms from behind. “Although, I could have done without the feet on my tables” The judge warns. Logan lets out a small chuckle.

“Ah, but what's the fun in that Roman?” Logan asks the men make their way down the hall to ‘check out’ for the day. “I can not believe I got stuck with that excuse for a case, I mean really photographic and video evidence? The man was innocent before the case even begun” Logan sighs, He was in a bit of a dry spell lately with cases.

“What? Did you want a murder?” Roman chimes “Someone murdered in their own home but ah! Surprise they are still alive... “ And so Roman went on his tangents creating a whole story which Logan simply tuned out. Inside the courtroom, Roman was a fair and grueling judge, outside, however? He was a royal pain, Logan scanned his surroundings while the judge continued to talk, the courthouse was unusually quiet today. Typically Logan liked the quiet, except in the courthouse. The courthouse was supposed to be filled with guilty men pleading for their lives, there was supposed to be angry cops running around getting ready for the witness stands or being passive-aggressive towards the lawyers. Judges should be reviewing cases while eating lunch, random fights being broken out. This was a courthouse, not a library.

“...Is that the case you want Logan?” Roman asks interrupting Logan's thoughts. The be-speckled man turns back to the judge tilting his head slightly.

“Excuse me? Pardon me Roman but I wasn't really paying attention” Logan admits, the judge sighs defeated.

“You never are…” He mumbles. Logan shrugs, he studies the room one more time.

“Does it not seem odd?” He begins, Roman furrows his brow, Logan isn't one to not finish a thought. “The silence, the calm sense wafting through. Where's the chaos?” Roman recognizes the aggravation in the lawyer's voice. “I do not understand” Logan pushes his glasses up.

“I dunno what to tell you Logan” Roman pats the lawyer on the back “I have to go, however, I have some evidence I need to look over for a case tomorrow, oh and it's a good one” Roman teases, this gets Logan's attention, his eyes begging for more. “Ah, that gets your attention doesn't it?” Roman smiles, he gestures for Logan to follow him as they walk towards the parking lot. Logan follows reluctantly simply wanting to know more about the case.

“Goodbye Judge Reial, goodbye Mr.Tolentino” The receptionist calls waving both men goodbye. Roman blows a friendly kiss, Logan simply waves rolling his eyes at the judge's antics.

“The case, Roman” Logan whines as they walk further into the lot. Roman lets out a laugh.

“Alright alright, Detective Tormine…” The judge pauses, Logan notices a crimson color rising in his face. He notices Logan staring and clears his throat continuing on “Brought me this case, it's an interesting one. A string of murders, absolutely no connection between the victims or the manner that they were killed. The only thing connecting them is a letter-”

“A letter? What does that mean” Logan ponders, Roman shoots him a glare

“A letter of the alphabet, written in the victim's blood. So for weeks, nobody could find any evidence leading to the killer or any suspects until suddenly, a man confesses.” Roman flashes a smile hearing Logan’s silent gasp of interest. “Odd right? Now obviously everyone's suspicious because this man has a perfect record. He might just be an outstanding citizen, but then all of a sudden the cops are re-evaluating the evidence and the crime scenes and boom! Traces of this man are everywhere.” Roman exclaims, he doesn’t mean to sound so excited. Logan shares his excitement, what a case. “Anyway, should have been cut and dry but the captain disagreed and decided it was going to court, my court to be precise-”

“Well, whos the prosecutor, the defense… what's going to happen?” Logan interrupts again, Roman was really getting sick of this.

“The prosecutor” Roman seethes “-hasn't been named yet, however, the defense is... “ Roman holds up a finger as he fumbles for his case file, shuffling through the papers quickly “Ah, here it is… the defense is... Oh, interesting..” Roman murmurs, Logan was getting impatient.

“Roman? The defense?”

“Oh yes, its Patton Hart” Now it was Logan's turn to blush “Seems he's back in town after..” Romans eyes grow wide “Winning the ‘Cruiser Murder’ case?! Wow, we all thought that was hopeless, oh I'm excited to see him again…” Roman trails off reminiscing about the cheerful lawyer. Logan once again tunes him out, enveloping himself into his own thoughts. Patton Hart of all people? Logan pictured the cheerful man's face after their last encounter, the blush grew stronger.

~~~

“Nicely done Lo!” A cheerful voice calls through the hall, Logan huffs annoyed and turns to find Patton skipping towards him. He glares subtly at the man who simply ignores it. “Better luck next time though, you're really good but you have to learn how to read your clients emotions” Logan curses at how genuine the man sounds.

“Thank you Mr.Hart” Logan seethes annoyed, he really hated losing. “Next time, I'll make sure to sit down with my client and have a real heart to heart” He says sarcastically. Patton lets out an adoring giggle, Logan feels his defenses crack.

“That's the spirit, Lo! And that was also definitely a pun!” Patton notices happily. Logan groans, ‘Heart to Heart’ damnit.

“I assure, never will I ever-”

“Make an intentional pun, yes I know” Patton interjects sighing, their eyes meet but are quickly torn apart at a small chime. Patton looks down at his phone and smiles “Ah seems I must get going, I have to catch a flight but I'll see you soon Lo!” Patton chimes, he begins to walk away to which Logan quickly grasps his arm.

“A flight? May I ask where you are going? And for how long?” Logan inquires, Patton slithers his arm out of Logan's grasp.

“I've been requested for a case up-” He snickers “In Canada, so I must get going. I'm not sure how long I'll be gone” Logan's face falls a tad bit, Patton notices “But that just means you will have loads of time to catch up!” He jokes, Logan, rolls his eyes.

“Well erm… good luck Patton” He says finally, Patton nods gratefully and makes his way out the door disappearing into the crowds of people.

~~~

“...Anyway, I will be excited to see him” Roman finishes, Logan turns to the judge quickly dismissing the thoughts of their last encounter months ago and nods. “I should get going, see you tomorrow Logan” Logan nods and watches as Roman gets into his car and leaves. Logan is left standing, stuck on this impossible road, one eager thought occupies his mind.

I must get on that case.

~~~

“Remus, Valerie will you two please sit still?” Patton begged as he tried to buckle his chaotic twins into their plane seats. The twins stopped fidgeting for a moment allowing Patton to secure their buckles. He quickly apologizes to the people behind him in the aisle before taking his seat in the middle of the two. He learned his mistake on the flight there not to let the twins sit next to each other. He took a deep breath having finally settled in.

“Papa why does Remus get to sit next to the window” Valerie tugs on her father's cardigan. Patton looks at his daughter lovingly stroking her fluffy hair.

“Val, you got the window on the flight here, so Remus gets it now” Patton explained, his daughter pouts defeated. Patton lets out a little laugh before feeling a tug on his other side. “Yes, Remus?” Patton turns to his other kid.

“Dada, can I have my scooby snacks?” Remus asks spouting his best puppy eyes. Patton can't help but laugh, Remus was unfortunately not as good at it as his brother, although his crazy eyes were something. He ruffled his son's hair before pulling out two packets of snacks and handing one to Remus and another to Valerie. The kids giggle excited and dive in. Patton takes this moment to set up their entertainment and helping them open up their cartoons. Valerie picks Steven Universe and Patton hears her humming the theme song. Remus decides he wants to watch Chowder and Patton watches as he tries to belt the theme song disturbing some tired passengers nearby. He shoots the other passengers a glare and happily encourages his kids. Slowly the plane commotion calms down and they take off. Patton clutches nervously to the side practicing his breathing, 4 seconds in, hold, and out, just like he told you. He felt two small hands being placed over his. He looks down and smiles at his two kids giving him little smiles of support of their own. He kisses them both quickly on the forehead before they turn their attention back to their shows.

~~~

“Alright, kiddos let's go get our bags so we can head home” Patton explains leading his two tired children towards baggage claim. Remus stops abruptly and lets out a little groan, Patton turns to the little one and kneels in front of him.

“What's wrong buddy?” Patton asks examining his son's face. Remus shuffles his feet playing around with his little suitcase. “Remus…” Patton pried.

“I've tired Dada, my feet hurt” Remus whines softly hiding behind his suitcase. Patton chuckles lightly before turning around. Remus gasps excited and quickly crawls onto his father's back. “Piggyback!” He shouts gleefully, Patton shushes cheerfully laughing. Patton looks over to Valerie expectantly. He silently asks if she wants a piggyback ride as well. She shakes her head politely and takes Patton's hand once more, following alongside him happily. The trio continues along their way. They walk along the unusually quiet aisles of the airport. It's late and Patton is worried about who might be lurking in the darkness of this travel center. Finally reaching the baggage claim and collecting their things the trio make their way to the exit to call a taxi, Patton is pleasantly surprised at a familiar face.

“Roman!” Valerie exclaims suddenly running out of Patton grasp and leaving her own little suitcase behind. Patton picks up his speed a bit, still securing a now sleeping Remus on his back. He catches up to a now very giddy Valerie being spun around by Roman. He sets her down gently and turned to a very tired father.

“Roman? What are you doing here?” Patton inquires, feeling Remus drool on his shoulder. Roman’s face falls slightly “N-not that I’m not happy to see you…” He yawns “I’m sorry it's been a long day.” Roman chuckles picking up Valerie and hoisting the little girl up.

“No worries! Just thought I’d pick you up, and bring you home, that ok Padre?” Roman explains, Patton nods eternally grateful having not to call a taxi. He takes one of Patton's luggage and Valerie's suitcase and leads them to his car. Patton follows now cradling a sleeping Remus and lugging the rest of the suitcases behind him.

“Roman! Roman! Roman! Canada was so cool! We went to the aquarium and we got to go on a boat and we ate some many donuts” Valerie gushes, Roman listens intently to every word the excited girl says. Patton sighs happily, he did love the trip but the murder case kind of brought down the mood. He was happy to be home with his kiddos and his friends.

“That sounds wonderful Princesa!” Roman replies, the little boy smiles at his nickname. They reach Roman’s car and he helps Patton buckle the kids into the back kissing both on the forehead. Remus stays sleeping and after a bit more rambling from Valerie she falls asleep as well. The drive from the airport to his home was a long one so Patton settles in and watches the soft Florida rain dripping down the window and letting his eyes droop at the peacefulness of it all. Roman begins humming a familiar tune soothing the restless man. Patton turns to him listening intently and happily.

“You alright Pat?” Roman asks noticing his stare. Patton perks up suddenly clearing his throat.

“Yes, yes of course..” He replies yawning, rubbing his eyes. Roman huffs doubtful, Patton sighs “I just...the case it was…” He stops shaking his head “Nevermind, I'm just tired” He says firmly Roman, still unsure, decides not to push. So they sit in comfortable silence with each other all the way home. Roman pulls into the dark garage of Patton's home, all the lights off. Patton shivers at the sight of his usually bubbly home. Roman helps him load in the suitcases and places them neatly by the door. Patton carefully unbuckles the boys hoping not to wake them. With Roman’s help, he brings them up to their room and tucks them in successfully. Once the nightlights are on and the boys are sound asleep snoring it's time for Roman to go.

“Thank you Roman” Patton whispers carefully shutting the door to the boy's bedroom. They make their way back downstairs and sit at the kitchen counter. “For picking us up, and for helping me today” He continues with a little more volume. Roman waves him off.

“Of course Pat! That's what friends are for” Smiling sweetly, Patton chuckles.

“Can I get you anything before you go? Coffee, tea, water, cookies?” Patton offers reluctant to let his friend go and be left alone once more. He also just really wants to make cookies. Roman laughs.

“No...no I should get home, you must be exhausted. Plus big day tomorrow!” Patton swallows, he wants to protest but knows he shouldn't. He suppresses his words with a smile before insisting Roman take a few of the treats they brought from Canada. Roman accepts graciously and Patton watches him pull out of the driveway and disappear into the starless night. Patton takes a moment to soak in the still house before moving to his study and unpacking his work materials. Roman was right, it was a big day. Tomorrow will mark the first official day of a new case. Patton would take the position of defense in a string of murders. He was nervous, everyone believes it to be hopeless. Patton understood the man had confessed. But when Patton met face to face with him, he knew. This man was innocent-

“-and I'm going to prove it” Patton declares, having a bad feeling however being put onto another murder trial. He sits determined at his desk and begins going through the evidence.

#objection au #logicality #prinxiety #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #thomas sanders #sanders sides #youtube #ao3 #fanfiction #fanfic #archive of our own #ts demus #demus

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miracleboiz · 4 years

Text

Making a Home Ch.5

Kita Shinsuke had experienced a lot in life. He had been raised with his grandmother, a loving foster parent and for some time he followed in her foot steps before finding his own path. He thought his foster care license had expired before getting a call at three am with two small boys thrust into his arms. Miya Osamu and Atsumu, from broken homes but still fighting. Thirty days before his license expires. Thirty days to make a choice, keep the boys or let them be separated into different homes. Thirty days to fall in love with them.

Words: 4k

Relationships: Gen

Warnings: Mention of past child abuse, non-graphic abuse

Not from Kita, but it is mentioned. I will post any warnings before any panic attacks or vague descriptions of abuse.

Read below or on AO3

“Shinsuke-san, what’s that?” Osamu called as he stared up at the tall rows of toys. Both his and Atsumu’s free hands were pointing at a large glass container of Lego creations, including a series of what looked like strange airplanes.

“Legos, you build with them, but I don’t know what they built.” Shinsuke said honestly, tilting his head when Akagi let out a laugh.

“It’s from Star Wars, those are fighter planes and that's BB-8…. I’m calling movie night tomorrow.” Akagi sighed, shaking his head in exaggerated suffering at the three blank looks he received. He reached up and grabbed the box above the glass container, smiling down at the twins as he tucked it under his arm.

“I’ll get this for you guys, I think you’ll enjoy it… Did you see anything else you like?”

Atsumu immediately turned and pointed up to the top shelf at a giant purple creature, eyes bright with excitement. He turned to look at Shinsuke, teeth burying themselves in his lip when Shinsuke hesitated for a moment at the price of 21,000 yen. His hand started to drop before Shinsuke stepped up beside him and grabbed the creature. After all, when was the last time Shinsuke had actually bought something he didn’t absolutely need, Shinsuke could definitely afford it.

“Kitty!” Atsumu gasped, letting go of Osamu’s hand to wrap his arms as best as he could around the creature. “Oh! It has a name…Eifie… It’s a.. a … poke… pokemon? Oh! I’ve heard of these, Kenma-kun was playing it when we first met him, remember Osamu?”

“Yeah! But his Pokemon was a turtle… this is a cat…”

“There’s different types of Pokemon, Osamu, weren’t you listening to him talk?” Atsumu frowned at his brother who paused to think it over before shaking his head with a grin.

“Nope! I was nappin’!” Osamu said proudly, turning and running down the aisle as he caught sight of something else.

Casting a meaningful glance at Akagi, Shinsuke turned to follow after Osamu. The boy led him through the aisles, peering at different objects before rounding a corner and returning with a small box. He looked down at it for a moment before holding it up to Shinsuke to reveal a small microscope on the front.

“My sensei… at my old school, she had one of these and it was a lot of fun… It’s not that expensive and look! It comes with bugs!” Osamu bounced on his heels, trying to point out the prepared slides.

It was a very scientific device and if Osamu was actually interested in science it could help nurture his will to learn… Of course it could just be that children were naturally inquisitive and Osamu wouldn’t care about this in the next week or so, however denying Osamu something simply because Shinsuke had decided that Osamu wouldn’t like it long term wasn’t something Shinsuke could do. It wasn’t nearly as expensive as Atsumu’s pokemon and Osamu was really excited about the bugs…

“It does indeed come with bugs, I’ll hold onto this until we’re ready to go… Do you like coloring?” Shinsuke asked, leaning down slightly to point out the coloring book wall and Osamu immediately set off with a delighting shout.

Shinsuke followed after him, looking behind him to see Atsumu tugging Akagi away from a slime machine.

“I gotta keep you out of trouble Oji-san! Shinsuke-san said so!” Atsumu said, scolding Akagi when he whined until Akagi finally followed after him into the toy car section.

By the time they met up again, Shinsuke was both ready to never look at another slime machine again and aware his wallet was going to be considerably lighter. Both of the boys had arms full of track sets for their new car collection (that Shinsuke was certain Akagi was eyeing with envy) and way too many boxes of slime.

Shinsuke passed the large purple creature to Atsumu as they scanned it, unable to stop his own smile when Atsumu held it as close as possible with the largest grin he’d given yet. He turned to his brother, happily chattering at him about his new ‘Kitty’, while his brother was doing his best to open the Pokemon card container without spilling any.

A pile of coloring books was next, though Shinsuke noticed the ones Osamu had picked out were the ‘adult’ coloring books while Atsumu had grabbed a few of the more cartoon ones.

“Osamu are you sure these are the ones you want? They don’t have as many fun shapes or characters.” Shinsuke said, flipping through but Osamu just looked up from his picking and smiled brightly.

“Yes sir! There’s a lot of pretty colors on the front see! I can make it super pretty… Do… I know it says adult… but… it’s just coloring…” Osamu said, hesitation starting to grow on his face before Shinsuke laid the book down on the counter again.

“It’s fine if it’s what you want, Osamu, I promise. I just wanted to make sure you were happy with it.” Shinsuke soothed over his worry, reaching out to pet down the mess that was Osamu’s hair. He really was going to have to remove that hair wax or he was going to wake up to Akagi putting it in his hair.

Osamu smiled, smaller than his brother’s but just as sweet. Shinsuke’s heart panged as he forcibly reminded himself that this wasn’t long term, just until they got adopted. They were only his to watch and guide for a little longer.

“Your sons are very cute… is the little one's face okay?” The clerk asked as she bagged the last of the items, a large package of ‘Bendaroos’. She smiled softly at Osamu who inclined his head in return.

“He’s fine, just a little accident yesterday- Atsumu don’t go outside yet, you can’t see past…” Shinsuke called as he swiped his card and tucked it away, sighing as Atsumu crashed plushie first into a pole. He fell back onto the ground and blinked blankly back at them, trying to figure out what happened.

“Akagi, please keep the pokemon off the ground and help him up. Osamu, stop laughing at his brother, your cards are falling out.” Shinsuke ordered, frowning at the cackling Osamu. Osamu yelped as he realized he had already lost a few cards and scrambled to pick them up only to lose more.

“I… have failed at becoming a Pokemon Master.” Osamu said, staring at the mess for a second before his head shot up to meet Shinsuke’s gaze. For a second Osamu’s chest stopped moving and Shinsuke knew he was about to panic again.

Shinsuke crouched down, carefully scooping up the cards into his hands.

“Pick them up one by one, Osamu, don’t move too fast or you’ll spill more… Just like that…” Shinsuke murmured, smiling softly at him as Osamu kneeled to the floor and slowly reached out with a shaky hand. “Don’t worry about the mess, we can clean it up.”

Shinsuke let him grab the rest, moving closer to catch any cards that slipped out of the container before Osamu was able to close it completely. He reached out and caught his cheek carefully, using his thumb to wipe away the tears that had slipped out.

“No need to cry, Osamu, you’re safe now little one.” Shinsuke said softly, moving back to his feet and turning to the clerk.

“I’m sorry, please forgive us for taking up your time.” Shinsuke said, bowing slightly before grabbing the bags and pulling them onto his arms. He turned to Osamu, offering him a hand and humming when it was immediately taken.

Outside the shop Akagi had caught Atsumu and was holding him on his hip, the pokemon nearly knocking both of them over. They were laughing loudly, almost enough to attract the attention of nearby people but any who looked over didn’t seem to mind the child. Akagi spun, dramatically pretending to nearly fall until Atsumu called for him to stand up straight.

“That was very dangerous! What if Kitty got hurt?” Atsumu scolded Akagi, shoving the purple pokemon into Akagi’s face while Akagi whined. “Tell her you're sorry Oji-san.”

“Yes yes, I am very sorry, very sorry Kitty-chan.” Akagi said, bowing and pretending to almost drop Atsumu again. Atsumu squealed with delight, giggling as they straightened back up and Akagi apologized before bowing again.

Shinsuke looked down at Osamu who was staring at the ground, fingers wrapped around Shinsuke’s hand. He tugged him a few steps away from the door before crouching in front of him, heart aching at the pitiful look on Osamu’s face.

“Osamu?” He asked softly, waiting until he looked up. “You know you’re not in trouble right? It’s okay to be upset, but sometimes you have to take a breath and calm down like we did to pick up your cards…”

Shinsuke watched him for a moment, the eyes that darted around and nervous fingers tapping out a quiet rhythm. He looked over at Atsumu’s bright laughter and then back down at the ground and Shinsuke could only guess he was jealous of Atsumu’s happiness while he was feeling so down. Shinsuke would have to squash that now/

“Osamu… What’s your favorite thing to do?”

Osamu didn’t respond for a moment, obviously thinking it over as his fingers scratched over the metal case of the pokemon cards. He licked his lips, glancing over at his brother again for a moment before turning back to Shinsuke and dropping his head to mumble something.

“I’m sorry, could you speak a little louder?”

“... Cooking… but… the others said it’s a woman’s job…” Osamu admitted softly and Shinsuke fought off an annoyed scowl.

“Well, why don’t you help me choose some stuff for hotpot? Then we can make the broth at home and prepare some dough for dumplings?” Shinsuke offered, the ache in his chest easing at Osamu’s widening eyes.

“Yes sir! Yes, please Shinsuke-san, please!” Osamu said, gasping and trying to bow his back before Shinsuke caught him with a laugh.

“There’s no need for that, little one. Trust me, as long as you’re happy so am I.” Shinsuke said softly, reaching up to fluff through Osamu’s hair. Both of their laughs bubbled out and Shinsuke could feel Akagi’s gaze on him before Atsumu was running at them.

Atsumu tripped, Kitty taking all three of them down in one hit, though it did nothing to stop Osamu’s laughter. Atsumu let out a yell, before he was laughing too and grinning at his brother. He wiggled off of his pokemon, so Shinsuke could grab it as he sat up, and reached out to tug his brother to his feet.

“Why’re you laughin’?” Atsumu asked, only to dissolve into his own giggling mess as he caught sight of the leaf stuck to Osamu’s gelled up hair.

“Why’re you laughin’?” Osamu shot back, no malicious intent on his face as he stuck out his tongue. Shinsuke reached out and tugged the leaf off of Osamu’s hair, showing it to him only for it to send both boys into another set of giggles.

He really had no idea his life would turn out like this.

Sitting on the sidewalk outside of a store, a giant purple Pokemon on his lap. Watching two young boys laugh without a care or a worry, feeling his own heart bubble and threaten to burst with warmth and affection. He shifted Kitty more on his lap, carefully cleaning her off as he watched the two laugh.

He barely shifted when Akagi’s footsteps sounded next to him, simply holding the now dirt free Kitty up for him to take. Then he turned back to the boys, hesitant to interrupt their giggling as they poked at Osamu’s dirty hair, but Atsumu noticed him watching and shook his brother. They both turned to watch him, still breathing hard from laughter.

They just needed a safe home.

Shinsuke didn’t want to let them go.

“Are you two ready to go get clothes then? Or would you like to give Kitty another dirt bath?” Shinsuke said pointedly and the twins squeaked before Atsumu was moving to pat Kitty in Akagi’s arms.

“I’m sorry Kitty, sorry Shinsuke-san, I didn’t mean to knock you over… Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, but can you two help me up?” Shinsuke asked, offering his hands to them and instantly he had two hands on each of his as the boys tried their hardest to pull him up. He moved with them, letting them pull him forward a few steps until they were certain he was okay to stand on his own.

“Well now that I’m dirty…” Shinsuke said, wiping off the dirt that had stuck to his clothes before doing the same to the twins. “There we go. We’re all going to need a bath tonight… Lets get you some clothes and food and we can head home.”

As a dress designer and a boutique, Shinsuke thought himself well aware of the fashion trends and he did his best to encourage both of his boys into choosing something moderately fashionable. He expected it would be difficult, especially after grabbing a quick bag of groceries and the boys were raring to get home and play with their toys.

He did not expect to be walking out of the store with four bags of striped t-shirts and polkadot pants that Atsumu insisted made the best match. He also didn’t expect Osamu to see the brightest pinks and yellow and stare at them like a starving man staring at a banquet dinner. He had managed to wrangle in a few randomized shirts, jeans, and shorts. However he was still mortally wounded after watching Atsumu come out of the changing room in a neon green plaid button up, blue polka-dot shorts, striped socks, and sandals on.

Atsumu was wearing the outfit as they left, proudly showing it off to Akagi who oohed and ahhed in all the right places. Osamu had decided to leave his clothes in the bags and was instead doing his best to remove a butterfly hair clip from it’s package.

Shinsuke held out his hand, silent after the horror he’d been subject to, and took the case. He carefully pulled the hair clip free before slipping it onto the highest spike on Osamu’s head. Osamu’s blinding grin made the shopping trip almost worth it. The hand that entangled with his definitely did, however.

Shinsuke looked down at Osamu swinging their hands together, amused as the little one skipped over a crack. He hopped again, giggling when Shinsuke extended his leg to step further and get a little bit ahead. He jumped further, trying to drag Shinsuke forward but Shinsuke just extended his leg even further.

“Noooo, we’re gonna lose.” Osamu said as Akagi and Atsumu started walking faster to stay in front of them. Osamu moved to dash forward, only to be pulled back as Shinsuke moved to stand still instead.

Osamu let out a gasp as his plan was ruined, frowning at Shinsuke before trying and again and failing. There was a burst of laughter as Shinsuke hopped twice at Osamu’s insistent cry for him to move. Shinsuke ignored Akagi’s laughter, bending down slightly.

He opened his arms to him and after a second of pouting, Osamu hugged him around his neck. Shinsuke scooped him up into his arms and straightened, repressing the urge to kiss Osamu’s forehead and see if he could make him laugh again. It wouldn’t do to get too attached. It was only the first day, he needed to be more in control.

Yet, he couldn’t help himself as he started walking faster and quickly over took Akagi, Kitty, and Atsumu walking down the street. Osamu gasped as he realized what was happening and turned to stick out his tongue behind him.

“That’s not fair! Kitty’s fat!” Atsumu yelled after them, and Akagi repeated him.

Feeling unnaturally playful, Shinsuke turned and stuck out his own tongue at Akagi. Immediately the other man gasped and pulled the bags as far up his arm as he could before bending and maneuvering Atsumu under one of his arms. Shinsuke stared for a moment, worry filling him before Atsumu let out a laugh and held onto his arm and pointed at them.

“After them Oji-san!” Atsumu called and Akagi let out a war cry, starting to jog after him.

“Shinsuke-san! He’s going to catch up to us and win.” Osamu whined, hugging Shinsuke tighter around the neck.

“No he’s not.” Shinsuke said, turning back around and shifting the groceries on his arms before taking off himself. Osamu squealed with delight, fingers buried in Shinsuke’s shirt as his foster father kept a few meters ahead of Akagi despite Akagi’s calls that they would win.

“What on earth- Shinsuke-san?” Someone called and Shinsuke waved his hand over at Castle Bakery. Issei Matsukawa watched them curiously, amused by the change in Shinsuke’s more stoic and controlled personality. He looked down as something tugged on his pant leg.

“No, Shinji, I will not run around with you in my arm like a sack of potatoes… Well, not until it’s closing time.” Issei said, looking at his son staring at the other two. Shinji raised his hand hesitantly at first before waving it at their passing neighbors.

The twins waved back, already curious about the person across the street.

“Muffins?” Atsumu yelled at Castle Bakery, intending to ask Akagi if that was the muffin shop but forgetting to lower his voice.

“We have lotsa muffins!” Shinji yelled back, shocking his father before his son let out a soft laugh and turned to look up at him. “Can we make muffins tonight?”

“Sure sweetie… Ah, they’re gone… I wonder what on earth they were doing…” Issei said, before shrugging. It wasn’t like Tooru didn’t have the same habit of picking their kids up and running off with them so it didn’t matter in the long run, as long as they were having fun.

Shinsuke turned the corner to the small entrance to his home before turning and sticking his tongue out at Akagi with Osamu. Atsumu and Akagi groaned as they realized they’d lost, Atsumu huffed as he was lowered down to the ground before pausing and looking up at Akagi.

“That was a lot of fun, Oji-san! Let’s do it again later, please!” Atsumu said, squeaking when a hand descended on his head to ruffle it.

“Sure thing kiddo, anything for my favorite nephews.” Akagi grinned before straightening. His gaze caught on something behind Shinsuke and his lips immediately twisted into a mischievous smirk.

“Oji-san? Did someone forget to tell me something?” A voice called from behind Shinsuke. Deep and warm, familiar even after nearly a year of separation and Shinsuke’s heart seemed to speed up before slowing down again. He once knew that voice in and out, and part of him craved to know it again despite his attempts to squash it.

Shinsuke turned, carefully keeping a hand on Osamu, and couldn’t quite wipe off the still lingering smile on his face. Gentle brown eyes met his, plump lips already curved in a common small smile on the newcomers face.

“Good evening, Aran.” Shinsuke said softly, slowly blinking at the calm and warm aura Aran seemed to always exude. His heart skipped a beat when Aran’s lips twitched and he looked unbearably fond.

“Good evening, Shinsuke.”

#HQ #Haikyuu #haikyuu!!#Miya Atsumu #Miya Osamu #Kita Shinsuke #Inarizaki #Fluff #Fanfiction #Making a home AU

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singledarkshade · 4 years

Text

Settling In

Chapter Thirty – One Year Author’s Note: This is the final chapter of this story. Hope you enjoyed. ********************************************* “So,” Sara said as she, Rip, Ray and Mick looked at the large building the signal they’d picked up earlier that morning was coming from, “Where are we?”

“It’s the testing centre,” Rip said before explaining at the confused looks, “This is where they brought the children recruited so it could be determined whether they should be trained as Time Masters or something else.” He grimaced, “Medical checks were also done here.”

“Rip…” Sara said softly as he looked around.

“I spent about three months here when I was first picked up,” he mused, seeing they were all looking at him confused Rip explained, “Scarring on my lungs from pneumonia plus I was practically starving to death.”

At his dismissive reply the three of them looked at one another worriedly.

“Okay,” Rip broke out of his reverie, “We should split up and see if we can find the location of the SOS signal.”

Sara nodded in agreement.

“You and Mr Rory take the north wing,” Rip said to Sara, before noting to Mick, “You know what to look for. Ray and I will take the south.”

He started walking but before Ray could follow, Mick grabbed his arm.

“Keep an eye on the Englishman, Haircut,” Mick told him, “This place will not be good for him.”

Ray nodded and headed after Rip.

“This is strange,” Rip mused as they moved through the corridors, “I don’t know where this signal could be coming from or who could possibly be sending it.”

Ray nodded, “Maybe Sara and Mick will be having better luck than we are.”

Rip stopped and tilted his head in thought, “Hold on. We’re in the south wing…I wonder…”

“What?” Ray demanded when Rip trailed off and just stood silently for several minutes.

Finally Rip turned to him, “That signal was sent directly to us, to me. Bringing me to somewhere I haven’t been since I was a child.”

“And?”

Rip took a breath, “My room, the one I was in for the three months I was here, is at the end of this corridor. I wonder…”

Ray shook his head annoyed as Rip trailed off again before walking deliberately along the corridor. Rip pulled his gun before opening the door. Green light spilled out and Ray watched Rip step inside. He ran in when he heard Rip’s gun thud on the floor and a cry of shock emanate from the other man.

“Rip?” he cried finding the former Time Master gasping for air, his back against the wall staring at the bed where, held in a stasis field, lay a little boy. Ray stared at the child asking, “Who is he?”

Rip looked up at Ray, his face ashen with tears filling his eyes, managing to whisper, “Jonas.”

Sara and Mick charged through the corridors. Ray had called them simply saying they needed to get there now. Reaching the room, they skidded to a halt finding Ray holding onto Rip who appeared to be having a panic attack.

“Rip?” Sara asked gently.

Ray shook his head and motioned her to look at the bed. Confused she stepped closer with Mick and stared at the child on the bed.

“Jonas,” Mick said, his voice soft.

Sara swallowed and let out a short breath before moving over to Rip resting her hand on his cheek making him look at her, “Hey, we’re going take him back to the ship and get him checked out. Okay?” Not waiting for him to reply Sara turned back, “Gideon, please connect to the test centre.”

“I already have, Captain Lance,” Gideon replied, “I have downloaded the information and will remove the stasis field as soon as you are ready.”

Sara turned to check on Rip once more, relieved that he seemed to be calming slightly, “Mick is going to take him back to the ship. Okay?”

“I won’t let anything happen to him,” Mick promised.

Ray nodded letting them know that he’d take care of Rip as long as they took care of Rip’s son.

“Okay, Gideon,” Sara said, “Drop the stasis field.”

The green light disappeared, and Mick slid his arms beneath the unconscious child lifting him gently, holding him securely against his chest before he started back to the ship.

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

Rip opened his eyes and grabbed his tablet sitting on the bedside cabinet, “Gideon, show me Jonas.”

Instantly the screen lit up and the live feed of his son fast asleep, cuddled up with his teddy bear completely peaceful under his covers a slight smile on his sweet face appeared before him.

“He’s safe,” Gideon assured him, “And dreaming happily.”

Letting out a sigh, Rip placed the tablet down before dropping his head onto the pillow in relief.

“What were you dreaming about?” Gideon asked.

Rip curled around his pillow, “The day we found him, this time last year.”

“A wonderful day, Captain,” Gideon said, a smile in her voice, “And it has been a good year. You have been a good father to our wonderful little boy. And he’s happy.”

“I know,” he breathed, closing his eyes “But I remember the days without him.”

“Days that are long gone,” she reminded him.

With her comfort, and the knowledge Jonas was safe in the next room, Rip let himself drift off to sleep once more.

Jonas, completely ignorant of the significance of the day, bounced downstairs to watch his morning cartoons. Rip smiled to see his son, happy and waiting for his breakfast.

“Okay,” Rip placed the bowl of cereal in front of Jonas, “Since I offered to help Adam’s mum and dad get things ready for the party, it means we’re going to go early.”

Jonas grinned.

“So, you get to play with Adam before his party,” Rip continued, “But you also have to make sure you don’t get in the way.”

“I promise I’ll be good, Daddy,” Jonas said solemnly.

With a smile Rip leaned over and kissed the top of his son’s head, “I know you will be.”

They finished breakfast with Jonas and Gideon playing one of the matching games she liked to do with him. They were memory games similar to ones Miranda would play every morning, to keep Jonas’ mind stimulated. Rip knew it allowed Gideon her own time to bond with his son.

Rip tidied up watching Jonas constantly. For some reason the fact that exactly one year before he had found his son again was on his mind and Rip couldn’t stop thinking about that moment. Finding Jonas on the bed in stasis, getting back the most precious part of his life had saved Rip and he knew it. Without Jonas, Rip was well-aware he would still be running about the timeline putting himself in situations that would one day have got him killed.

Evelyn and Kevin had hired the same soft play centre for Adam’s birthday party that Rip had for Jonas’ birthday. The moment they walked in Adam ran over to them, and Rip let his son take off with his best friend.

“Hi,” Evelyn appeared, “Thank you for coming to help.”

Rip smiled, “Happy to. It also means I don’t have to listen to Jonas ask me continuously when we were coming to the party.”

She chuckled, “Well, I am grateful you’re here. Kevin took Ruth for a drive to get her to go to sleep.”

“And to avoid the hard work?” Rip asked amused,

“Exactly.”

Laughing Rip followed her to the table where all the decorations sat. He watched Jonas run around with Adam as he helped Evelyn blow up balloons and sort party bags.

“Are you okay?” Evelyn asked suddenly.

“Fine,” Rip said quickly turning to look at her, “Why do you ask?”

She frowned slightly, “Because the way you’re watching Jonas. Like you’re afraid he won’t be there the next time you look up.”

Rip sighed softly, “I can’t stop thinking that I lost him.”

“Captain,” Gideon said warningly in his ear, making him realise what he’d said.

“I was working when…” Rip trailed off and took a breath trying to remember for a moment the story they’d given for losing Miranda, “When I got the call about the accident. I thought I’d lost them both. This time last year I found I was wrong.”

Evelyn squeezed his arm, “He’s safe but I understand why you’re a little anxious today.”

“Thank you, Evelyn,” Rip said sincerely, “I can’t tell you how much your friendship has meant to me this past year.”

“Well, you and Jonas are family now,” Evelyn replied, she looked over as the door opened and the party guests arrived, “And the hordes have arrived.”

Rip sat hidden in the corner with Ruth asleep in his arms while the kids ran around, and the adults chatted. Knowing his aversion to ‘chatting’ with the parents of Jonas’ classmates Evelyn simply handed him Ruth and let him hide in the corner where he could watch over his son.

Jonas and Adam were charging around, laughing and shouting while leading several others in a game.

“You’re troubled, Captain,” Gideon said softly in his ear.

“No,” he breathed, “Just reflecting.”

“About?”

Rip sighed, gently rocking the little girl as she began to fuss in his arms, “Just life in general.”

“Remaining in one place for an entire year is something you have not done in a long time,” Gideon deduced, “Not since your final year in the Academy.”

“Even with Miranda I could only stay for a few days at a time,” Rip murmured sadly, “I never thought I would ever put down roots, other than on the Waverider.”

He sat in silence for several moments watching Jonas.

“Do you miss it, Captain?” Gideon asked, breaking the silence.

“I do,” he said instantly, “My ship, our ship. That was my home and refuge for all those years. The only consolation I have is that you’re still with me.”

Rip could feel her smile at her words, “Always, my dearest Captain.”

Jonas was fast asleep on the bed beside Adam, who was also out for the count, when Rip stepped into the room. Toy Story, the boys’ favourite film, was playing to itself. After the party Evelyn and Kevin invited them over for dinner, allowing the boys could continue to play. Rip was more than happy to, as he enjoyed their company and was always happy to have Jonas spend time with his best friend.

“Both asleep?” Kevin chuckled as he looked down at their sons, “Well, they spent most of the day bouncing about. I’m surprised they lasted so long.”

Rip smiled, before he lifted Jonas up into his arms. Jonas cuddled into Rip’s shoulder arms and legs automatically wrapping around his daddy. Kevin fixed his son under the covers, who sighed as he cuddled his bear.

Carrying Jonas down to the car Rip turned to his friends, “Tomorrow will be a year since Jonas and I moved here. The others are insisting on throwing a party to celebrate. I know it’s short notice but would you all like to join us.”

“Are you sure?” Evelyn asked, “If it’s a family get together.”

“Family and friends,” Rip said softly, “I’d like you to join us. And Jonas will love having Adam there to play with.”

Evelyn glanced at her husband before nodding, “We’ll be there. What time?”

“After three,” Rip smiled relieved they’d agreed to come, he still found it hard to reach out to people.

Evelyn nodded, “We’ll be there.

“See you tomorrow,” Rip nodded before he carried his unconscious son to the car and heading home.

Carrying Jonas upstairs, Rip quickly changed his son into his pyjamas and eased the pliant little boy under the covers. Kissing Jonas forehead, Rip left him to sleep.

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

Rip stood in the kitchen looking out across the garden which was filled with friends and family. Barry, Cisco, Caitlin, Iris, Wally, Jessie, Harry, Lisa, Joe and Cecile, Tina McGee, Evelyn, Kevin, Adam and Ruth, Clarissa and Lily were there as well as Oliver, Felicity, Diggle, Lyla along with Captain Singh and his husband had accepted the invitation to join the party.

“Your family, Captain,” Gideon said softly in his ear, “You should be out there enjoying the celebration with them.”

Rip smiled, “I’m just fixing drinks, Gideon. And I am enjoying my day. It’s gratifying that so many people joined us.”

“Of course they came, Captain,” Gideon told him, amusement in her voice, “Despite yourself sometimes, you have made good friends here.”

Rolling his eyes at her reply, Rip picked up the cups of juice for Adam and Jonas returning to the garden. Once he’d given the boys their drink, he took a seat beside Clarissa and rejoined the conversation.

“Okay, can I have your attention,” Joe spoke up suddenly, standing with his glass in his hand managing to get everyone’s attention, “A year ago today, Rip and Jonas arrived in Central City becoming a part of our already odd extended family.”

Rip lifted Jonas onto his lap hugging him close.

“Although shy and timid around us at first,” Joe continued, “Rip soon came to trust us.”

Laughter filled the garden and Rip tried to frown but couldn’t stop his smile at the good-natured teasing.

“With Rip came Jonas who has become a beloved cousin, nephew and grandson to us all,” Joe said once the laughter died down, “And has brought new friends into our group. I remember standing here several months ago and welcoming you both to our family. Now, I get to stand here when you have become an integral part of this family. As well as tell you how grateful we are to have you with us.”

“Seconded,” Cisco called, hugging Lisa close who smiled up at him.

Hugging Jonas, Rip looked at garden filled with people.

“And I…we are grateful that you took us in,” Rip paused before continuing with a smile, “An extended family was something neither Jonas nor I ever had until we came here,” Rip raised his glass to them all, “To our family.”

As everyone toasted, Rip kissed his son’s head hugging him for a moment before he let the little boy down to run around with his best friend again.

Looking at the people filling his garden, Rip thought back to the year before when he’d made the decision to stay in this time and place. He remembered deciding logically that staying near the Star Labs team would be a good idea, considering his own unique circumstances if anything happened that would require medical assistance then he would have people who could help him.

It had been a pleasant surprise when Cisco offered his spare room to them, and then how they were adopted by the team. Rip could never have imagined that these people, strangers only twelve months before, becoming his family.

“Hey,” Cisco’s voice interrupted his thoughts, “Are you with us?”

Rip smiled and turned back to the party, “I’m with you.”

********************************************* Author’s Final Note: I will continue this universe in Family Moments.

#fic #legends of tomorrow #rip hunter #gideon #jonas hunter #the flash #cisco ramon #joe west

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fanfic-scribbles · 5 years

Text

Small Steps

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: Everything is going great– you’re doing all right in life and your boyfriend, one Steve Rogers, is always a bright and shining light regardless. However on one otherwise wonderful date Steve starts acting squirrely, then disappears on you for a week. It’s worrisome but nothing you haven’t handled before.

Except then you get to find out firsthand just how unstable the Tesseract can be when a supposedly long-dead enemy of Steve’s walks into your life in a most unwelcome way. Apparently growing as a couple means you inherit some of Steve’s shitty luck.

Oh joy.

Quick facts: Romance – [established] Steve Rogers/Reader – Nondescript Reader

Warnings: Kidnapping, fluff, use of the Cosmic Cube for story purposes that requires extra suspension of disbelief, Reader is meant to be gender-neutral but ‘sweetheart’ is the term of endearment used for them

Place in MCU Timeline: An alternate post-‘CA: TWS’ fic with Bucky as an Avenger.

Words: 7567

A/N: I wanted to space out my “Captain America” stuff but my Gabriel thing isn’t finished yet. So here we are! Anyways. This thing. Turned out way different than I intended. When I started it I wanted to write something reminiscent of a cartoon episode– adventure, a little touch of seriousness, a lot of fun, old enemies coming back, vague impractical science– but while it hits those marks it didn’t quite make it tonally like I wanted. I still like it; it’s just not quite what I meant to do. However if you can go along with the dumb ‘science,’ I think it’s still kind of fun, and it’s still fluffy Reader/Steve Rogers in a way I’ve wanted to do for a while. Please enjoy. (Also, a mental kudos to those who can spot my Hugo Weaving Easter egg.)

Blanket: check.

Food: check check check.

Boyfriend: …

You look at your phone in case there’s been an emergency, but no new notifications have popped up and the time is past what you agreed to meet at. As you’re putting your cell back down, though, you hear someone approaching, and soon enough the wall of awkward muscle otherwise known as Steven Grant Rogers shimmies through the bushes. You can’t tell if he thinks he’s small enough to go through them, or if he thinks he’s big enough for them not to matter. Either way, he ends up dusting leaves off himself and pointedly ignoring the opening by the tree he could have walked around.

“Sorry I’m late,” he says and drops to his knees to give you a kiss.

“I haven’t been waiting that long. Also: hi.” You smile at him and open your arms to show off everything. “What do you think?”

“I think it looks amazing, sweetheart,” he says and barely glances at it, instead keeping his gaze focused on you.

“Well, I know what I am, but what about the spread?” you tease.

The joke is dumb but his laugh is genuine, and he wraps an arm around you. “It looks great. You even got the wicker basket.”

“Go big or go home,” you say, and the two of you dig in.

Dating Steve Rogers is an…experience. A good one, but an experience that comes with its own challenges nonetheless, and those make you constantly on alert for when his phone might ring, for an explosion or shout in the distance that might take him from you yet again. This is something you’ve come to expect when your boyfriend dons a cowl and shield more famous than he himself is.

Still, you wouldn’t have it any other way. While it’s a little sad the world gives more credit to Captain America than Steve Rogers, it allows for moments like this where the two of you can sit in the park unbothered, feeding each other pieces of fruit and only half-hidden from the world.

“This is the best,” Steve says in a sigh, his head in your lap.

“I agree.” You run your fingers through his hair. The way he looks at you, with so much adoration– like you’re everything– is overwhelming. And wonderful.

“I feel like I could stay here forever,” he says like he’s in a dream.

“It’d probably get pretty cold eventually.”

“Not with you,” he says. He puts his hand over yours and laces your fingers together. “You ever…you ever think of spending more time together?”

“Um, all the time,” you say. What a strange question. “We pretty much steal every moment we can.”

“Maybe not every moment,” he says. But he stares at you and doesn’t say more. You quickly realize his attention, despite his gaze, isn’t really on you.

“Steve?” you prompt and he blinks. He opens his mouth but shuts it, frowns, and sits up so fast you lean back to avoid meeting his face in a very unpleasant way. “Steve?” you repeat.

“Did you hear that?” he says and looks around.

You do your best, but all you can hear are some annoying birds, children playing in the distance, and a mix of conversations too low and far away to understand. “Sorry, Steve, but it’s the park on a nice day. I’m gonna need you to be more specific.”

He frowns deeper. “It sounded like a–”

His phone rings and makes you both jump. It’s the actual, real ring that Tony has set for himself in Steve’s phone– because Steve’s ‘old’ and Tony thinks he’s hilarious. He had better be something to interrupt your date.

“Wow Steve,” you say as he fumbles to silence it. “You can hear a major annoyance before it even happens. You must have superpowers or something.”

He rolls his eyes but he’s smiling even as he picks up the call. “Rogers,” he says crisply and you start to pack up. The phone call goes about how you expect– hushed words and slowly rising hackles, until Steve’s shoulders slump, Atlas bending under the weight again, and he says, “Do we have any time?”

He looks relieved. “One hour, then. Thanks Tony.” Aaaaand he’s annoyed again. “Goodbye, Tony.”

He hangs up and shakes his head, but puts his phone away and picks up the basket. “Duty calls?” you ask and start folding up the blanket.

Steve, waiting to the side, snorts. “Tony is so far from duty it’s not even funny.”

“A little funny,” you say and hug the blanket.

Steve swipes it from you, squeezes it between the picnic basket top and handle, and extends his free arm to you. “Okay, maybe a little.”

Even walking back to your apartment, you have enough time for at least a twenty-minute make-out. It would have been nice to do it in the fresh air, but, honestly, it’s good anywhere. Steve is big and strong but soft and gentle. You could stay like this forever.

When the timer goes off you and Steve both pull back with almost identical groans of regret. Still, you fix his hair to the best of your hand-combing abilities, and he straightens his shirt.

“Call me when you can,” you say, unmotivated to leave his lap.

“I will.”

“Don’t be reckless.”

“I won't.”

“Come home safe,” you say, throat tightening at the thought of anything else.

Steve hears it, because of course he does, and he holds your face with large, gentle hands. “I will,” he says, like it’s a promise, but without actually promising. Still, it’s enough to set you at a standard sort of ease, and you extricate yourself from his hold just as someone knocks.

“Movie night when I get back?” he says as he heads to the door.

“I’ll pick something out,” you say. “Be safe.”

He gives you one last smile before he’s gone.

It’s been over a week since Steve left and you are about to lose your mind.

He had called barely a few hours in, saying that it seemed pretty easy as far as most jobs went, and he should be home in a few days. Bucky had even chimed in, teasing and light, and then they went dark.

Now it’s onto a week and a half and you have heard absolutely nothing since. Without knowing what they have been doing, but knowing Steve would never go incommunicado without a very, very, very good reason, you can do nothing but wait. And it sucks.

You let out a sigh and fumble with tired fingers to unlock your door. Throwing yourself into work and chores has only stolen so much of your attention, but at least it leaves you too tired to be conscious for long. Not that even unconsciousness can keep you from worrying. You wouldn’t give Steve up for anything in the world, but goddamn, you really hate that costume sometimes.

You slide out of your jacket and go to shut the door, but a hand from outside snakes right in and catches it and a man– or something like a man– forces himself into your apartment and slams the door shut.

You stumble back, unable to take your eyes from him. You should call for help but his face– it’s like it’s only a skull with a thin veneer of flesh pulled over it. And it’s red. A name pops into your head but that’s– it’s not possible.

“Who–” ‘what,’ you want to ask, “–are you and what the fuck are you doing in my home?”

“My goodness; history classes aren’t doing their jobs well, are they?” the guy ‘tut-tut’s and walks towards you. You walk backwards and don’t dare take your eyes off of him. You hesitate to let him anywhere near you.

“Oh, I know. Gruesome, isn’t it?” He strokes his chin. “The serum can’t make us all as beautiful as your Captain Rogers.”

Having an inkling is one thing. Having confirmation is another. “It’s not possible,” you say and almost trip over the couch. You turn to run for the bedroom but he punches the wall in front of your face. You yelp and turn the other way but his other arm is there, caging you in, and you press your head and back flat against the wall as he leans in.

“So you do know who I am.” Johann Schmidt– The Red Skull– grins and he’s even more grisly. “Good. I’ll make this quick then– you know who I am and what I’m capable of. I have a van waiting on the street outside, full of operatives with very sensitive trigger fingers. If you come with me willingly they will be driven away without stepping foot on the ground. If you resist I will call for them, and they will eliminate every potential witness in this building.”

You fume because ‘overkill’ could not be more literal in this case, and he doesn’t need Hydra operatives to handle you. He’s terrifying enough on his own. Still. “Even using words like ‘Nazi,’ Steve really didn’t pay enough attention to what an asshole you are.”

“That’s something we can discuss on the way.” He smirks and stands up straight. “Well?”

“I’ll come,” you manage to grit out.

“Excellent choice,” he says. He grabs your jacket and helps you back into it. Your skin crawls but at least now you have a buffer when he links his arm in yours and escorts you out. There are some armed people making sure you get out unnoticed, and you barely breathe until you’re out back and a dark van drives away.

You go back to silently panicking when a limo pulls up in its place. More worrisome is that two armed goons get out to let you in. The limo isn’t filled to capacity but it ends up with you and the Red Skull facing each other, two guys on either side of you, and the two men who had stepped out returned to the back seat. All of them are military-looking and armed likewise.

“Seems excessive,” you comment lightly, eyeing one of the ridiculous guns.

“I wasn’t sure what to expect,” he says, pulling off his gloves. “After the likes of Peggy Carter, I must admit, you are disappointingly average.”

Your stomach twists up. “Yeah, well, one of these things is not like the other. I’m just a friend.”

He laughs and pulls out a phone. “Forgive me; I know I’m relatively new to this time, but…”

He holds the phone out to you and you lean in closer. The image on the screen is a little blurry and grainy so you squint. Is that a park? And a couple of people…

You gasp and sat right back when you recognize that place, that day. “Very friendly indeed,” Schmidt says and slips the phone back in his coat pocket.

“How did you–”

“How long have you been involved with Captain Rogers?”

“Not that long.”

“There’s no need to hide it.” He taps his phone pocket. “The picture is bad quality, but the scene itself was quite romantic. He cares very much for you.”

You really, really cannot hate that implication more. “He has a team to watch his back.”

“I have to wonder how ‘inspired’ they are by their leader at the moment. Given his…‘delicate’ state.”

Your stomach sinks. “What?”

“Oh. You don’t know.” He smiles, mocking and cruel. “Unsurprising, really. I imagine they’re trying to keep what happened a very close secret.”

“What did you do to him?”

“Oh, I simply took him for a trip down memory lane.” He chuckles. “You’ll see.”

You can’t see much, tied to a pillar in the depths of a drafty old underground parking garage, so you assume he was being rhetorical.

“Are you comfortable?”

Case in point.

You grunt into the gag pulled tight between your teeth, and attempt to pull on the restraints. There is absolutely no give which, yeah, figures. Your wrists and ankles were bound before you were strapped to the column and, thankfully, don’t seem to have impeded bloodflow (yet), but between those and the chains wrapped around your upper body and thighs that hold you against the stone, you are definitely not going anywhere.

“Excellent,” he says, smiles, (because that face can always be creepier), and turns to bark orders at his underlings.

The level is crawling with black-clad mercenary jerks– from what you can see in the dim lighting. You’re far away from any entrances, in a corner that doesn’t smell like anything other than concrete. On one hand– yay. On the other hand– this place is so out of the way even shelter-seeking homeless people and miscreant teenagers don’t use it for anything. Honestly, you could be anywhere, now that you think of it; Schmidt had knocked you out a few minutes into the ride and you had woken, tied up on the floor of the car just before they had dragged you out and pinned you here.

“Leave a few guards here, just in case,” Schmidt says. “But place most of them on the second level. He’ll never get all the way here.”

With that, you are left with only a few gunmen for company. And with that: worry. What did Red Skull do to Steve that makes him think three guys– even armed to the teeth– would be any match for Steve? You’ve seen him on the news taking out ten at a time and felt perfectly relaxed. What is happ-

One of the guards cries out and crumples, jerking like he’s having a seizure before falling still. Another one does the same just moments later, and the last fires a few shots before a slight-figured shadow throws a small silver thing that attaches and electrocutes him so thoroughly that he falls at your feet. A little too close, for how he’s sparking.

The person comes out and you expect Natasha. Maybe Clint.

You do not expect a five-foot-something slender blond man with a very familiar face.

If it could, your jaw would drop open. As it is, you can barely speak even after he removes the gag. “St-Steve?!”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he says, short and quiet, like he’s embarrassed.

‘Memory lane,’ huh. What an asshole. Still, Steve leans in to kiss you and this is one good, familiar thing so you stretch your neck to take and reciprocate. Only, he pulls back suddenly and says, “S-sorry,” and in what topsy-turvy world do you live in where your boyfriend stops himself from kissing you and apologizes for it?

Well, probably the one where you’re tied to an enormous stone support in an underground parking garage. Right. Stupid priorities. You swallow your disappointment– you’ll have plenty of time for comforting make-outs later. “Well. That explains Red Face von Gloating.”

“Are you all right?” Steve asks as he cuts through the ropes on your wrists and ankles.

“Yeah, fine,” you say and shimmy, but the chains are tight and in awkward spots. “Please tell me you have a plan beyond ‘just show up like the bad guy told me t-’ what is that?”

“Don’t worry,” Steve says and puts the weird-looking welding torch against the metal. “I got it from Tony’s lab.”

That’s not as reassuring as he thinks. You’ve seen Tony’s lab. But you’ll give him the benefit of the doubt, if only for your own peace of mind. “Is that where you got the little silver things too?”

“New Widow’s Bites that Tony was working on.” Steve grimaces. “Natasha’s going to kill me.”

She’ll have to get in line. You see no one, but that’s not reassuring– especially when the metal doesn’t give, even under the efforts of Tony’s toy. “Let’s get back to the part where you absolutely waited for backup, right?”

Steve does not look at you. “I’ll see how this works on the lock,” he says and darts behind the pillar.

“Steve!” you hiss and turn your head. Of all the–

“There was no time! And they never would have let me come.”

“Yes, imagine that, keeping the bad guy from getting what he wants. Seriously Steve?!”

“I won't let him hurt you.”

Stubborn little– “I don’t want him to hurt you! You need to–!”

Cold metal presses against your temple and you freeze. The slight clanking goes quiet, the chains still, and Steve whispers your name with dread.

“Come out, Captain Rogers,” Red Skull says, holding the gun steady as Steve steps out, hands up.

“Let them go, Schmidt,” Steve says, unfairly calm for a guy with ten guns on him, and while getting frisked. He winces only slightly. “They’re an innocent civilian; they’ve got nothing to do with this.”

“They inserted themself into this the day they fell in love with Captain America,” Schmidt sneers but he takes the gun from your head. “Perhaps, though, if they disavow you…”

Schmidt grabs Steve and yanks him easily in front of him to face you. Steve moves to fight, but stops when the gun is pointed at you again. “It shouldn’t be difficult. You haven’t known he’s been like this for nearly a week, so how much does he trust you, truly?”

You flinch. A week? Steve’s face turns almost as red as Schmidt’s. “You–” is all he growls out before one of the henchmen slams the butt of his gun into Steve’s head.

“Steve!” You try to go to him on instinct but, of course, in vain. They grab him and two men hold him up as he bleeds and tries to stay conscious. You’ve never seen him in so much pain; it hurts you to see it.

Schmidt points the gun at your chest. “Renounce him and you can live. All you have to do is tell me how you loathe him and I will set you free.”

Steve groans out your name. “Do it. Please.”

This is stupid. The whole thing is under such duress that you wonder how Schmidt could possibly think Steve will take you seriously. But, well– the guy is deranged, so all you have to do is lie. It should be easy, even; just take the things you like about Steve and invert them. You’ll all know you’re lying and Schmidt might (might; you doubt he’d just let you walk away) not kill you.

You open your mouth…but nothing comes out. You try again. “I…I…”

“Yes?” Schmidt says. He presses the gun against your skin. “I will not wait all night. Do it. Turn away from him, or die.”

Steve says your name again, pleading, and you make the mistake of looking at him again. Blood is streaming down his face, his small body is restrained by two big goons and draped in clothes too baggy for his skinny self, and big blue eyes are begging you to do your worst.

But you can’t. This is Steve, the man you love more than anything or anyone else, and you can’t let even an ounce of doubt worm into his brain. It’s stupid, but for whatever reason it’s asking too much.

Also, you reason, there is no way this crazy bastard is going to let you go no matter what. So why do what he wants?

“Rot in hell, you fascist fuck,” you snap and stand straight, bracing yourself for the blast.

“Oh, so unwise,” Schmidt says and pulls the hammer.

Only to get clocked by a real hammer.

You shut your eyes as the place fills with lightning and you can only hope you don’t become an accidental casualty. The air tingles and the lightshow goes on but you remain unstruck, and the sound of a battle fills the air. A bullet strikes stone next to your head and you yelp as the shards graze your cheek.

“Stay still!” Natasha orders as she races behind you. You choke a little at her harsh pulling on the chains. She comes back out, swearing, and touches her ear. “Stark, we could use a little firepower. These aren’t normal metal.”

Tony, as Iron Man, swings your way but as these jerks bring out the bigger, scarier version of a Gatling gun, he wisely, thankfully, goes the opposite direction. However that still leaves you open and immobile in the middle of a firefight.

“Don’t move,” Natasha says sternly and leaves you.

“What?” you ask, only a little panicked, you sw–

Steve’s shield slams into the stone column, cutting through the top chain and rattling you so much you almost fall forwards. But, Steve is right over there with Clint, so who–

Bucky races in, grabs the shield, and rips it out of the wall. Oh. “Sam!” he yells and throws it to Sam, who whirls like a goddamn Roman gladiator and throws it right back to cut the chain around your legs.

You look at Steve, stunned, and his smile is all fierce pride.

Then you remember that you're in the middle of a war zone, underground. Natasha pulls you over to Steve and Clint, and Sam and Bucky follow. You immediately latch onto Steve and don’t let go. He’s smaller, sure, but he’s still Steve and there’s no one in the universe you feel safer with.

“It’s okay; you’re okay,” he says and kisses your head. “We’re gonna get you out of here.”

“We’re getting you both out of here,” Natasha interjects.

“But Schm–”

“Long gone,” Bucky grunts and pauses to reload. “And– Steve.”

There’s something meaningful in that but you don’t look up; you’re clinging to Steve and trying not to shake. You’re succeeding at the first, not so much with the second.

“Right. Right,” Steve says and sighs. He pulls on you and it takes you a moment to realize you need to stand with him, because he isn’t going to pull you up.

“Steve, what is going on?” you ask, helpless and hopelessly confused.

He squeezes you and despite the different body, the feeling itself is comfortingly familiar. Steve is here, Steve is holding you; Steve will keep you safe. For the moment, that’s all you need to know.

You’re feeling more like yourself now that you’re in the safety of Stark/Avengers Tower. More like yourself and more aggravated by the moment.

“You haven’t known he’s been like this for nearly a week…so how much does he trust you?”

A week. Fuck.

Steve comes in with a heavy sigh and plops onto the couch next to you. You scan him briefly. “So Natasha didn’t kill you.”

“Not yet.” He flashes you a crooked smile. “She’s waiting until I’m back to…normal.”

Normal. Right. Normally you’d be curling up to Steve.

Normally Steve would have called and said something weird had happened but not to worry. And you would have been fine with that.

Normally.

“What happened– starting with the moment you left,” you say and turn to face him.

Steve looks apprehensive, and then looks away entirely. “We found a Hydra cell doing possible experimentation in a compound. The whole team went, just in case. It was– well, not exactly a trap, but they caught wind just before we arrived and they were in the middle of running. We cleared the place, bagged the operatives there for SHIELD, and freed some hostages. I got hit with…something. It didn’t do anything at first but within an hour I was in agony, and another hour later I was like…this.”

He takes a breath. You wait. “We stayed for a couple days, trying to figure out how to reverse it,” he says and looks at you. “Tony and Bruce grabbed everything relating to the tech they used. It’s a lot that’s over my head, but relates to energy from the Tesseract, and is also how Schmidt come to be here. What they shot me with was…targeted time travel, basically.”

“So you’re…” Your head hurts; this is stu- wait, wait. “Shit, why are you out and around people with all these fucking germs and–”

“Relax; it’s all right,” Steve says, grasping your hand, and waits for you to take a deep breath. “It was a weird thing to begin with, and imperfect. I’m as small as I was, but I’m not sick at all; it didn’t go back far enough to take out the serum completely. It’s going to reverse itself eventually.”

“Eventually.”

He shrugs. “Within a few days probably. Hopefully.”

“Hm.” There’s a lot to unpack. You’re not sure how to start.

“I’m so sorry.” Steve holds both of your hands. “I never thought he would come after you. I didn’t know he even knew you existed.”

“Apparently he likes to creep on couples at the park. He had pictures of our last date.” You heave a sigh. “I don’t really care about him though. I mean– I care; I have a hole in my wall thanks to him–”

“I’ll fix it,” Steve says eagerly. Too eagerly.

“Steve,” you say through grit teeth. He stops and you breathe. “So it took a few days to figure out what was happening. Where the hell did you go for the week after that?”

“Um…” Steve looks away again and that nagging sense in the back of your head becomes a full shrieking alarm. “Back…here.”

What.

“You’ve been in town. For days after being hit by a weapon that caused you pain and changed you physically, and you…didn’t call me. Why.”

Steve says your name plaintively but fuck that. “Why.”

“I…” He actually steels himself and sits up straighter. The way he does when he thinks he’s right. The fire inside your gut stokes itself to a blaze. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

“I’ve been worried. Did you get my texts? My voicemails?” You stand and pace, trying to work out some of the roiling aggression. “You went dark Steve.”

“I’ve done it before,” he says. “For longer.”

“For life-and-death situations where a phone ringing can get you killed, not after you get hit! Not while you’re staying in the same fucking city and recuperating! I am always, always there!” Fucking hell; you’re close to furious tears so you stand in front of him and try to calm down. “So why didn’t you tell me? The real answer please.”

“Really, I didn’t want you to worry. Look at me!” Steve says and gestures at his body.

“Yes, I noticed and sure I freaked out, but I calmed down as soon as you told me you can’t get sick like you used to,” you say. “I-I’m sorry, Steve; I can’t imagine how disorienting it is to have changed bodies yet again, but that’s the sort of thing you’ve come to me to talk about before. Why wouldn’t you come to me now, of all times?”

“We’re waiting on it to reverse itself, but we don’t know if it actually will. What if…” He looks at you, hard set but you can see the small spot of fear. “What if this is permanent?”

Jumping from one body to another and back again; you can’t imagine how disorienting this all is and platitudes will do nothing to soothe him. But you have to try something. “Steve, it’s going to be okay. I’m sure you’ll get back to yourself– however you need to be.”

“And if I don’t?” Steve says.

“Uh…” You have no idea how to respond. He sounds like he’s looking for answers, not reassurance. “I don’t know, Steve, this isn’t really my area of expertise, but you have a well-known voice by now and you don’t have to be big and tall to make a difference; I’m sure if this is how things stay then me and everyone will all be able to help you find a–”

You feel like you just got stabbed in the chest.

“You…” You have to swallow. “You’re not asking for yourself,” you say slowly. “You’re asking for me. What I’ll do. Like…you think I’ll dump you if you stay like this.”

Steve says your name and reaches, but you backpedal so hard you almost trip over your feet. “I can’t believe you. I can’t believe you.”

Steve says your name again, but at least he’s dropped Cold Captain for some emotion. Even if that emotion is panic. “It’s not–”

But he stops there. “You can’t even lie to me and tell me it’s not that. Can you?” you ask. He looks pained, but stays quiet. The knife twists deeper and you’re not sure which feels worse– the anger or the sadness. Both make for an impressively painful combo, and you can only bring yourself to about a whisper. “Why is it you would rather me think you were dead than know about this?”

He shakes his head. “It’s not like that, I swear,” he says. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–”

“I need space.” You start walking. It takes from the couch to the elevator, and then up a few floors, before you’re contained enough to be around people. It feels like you’re barely ready in time before the elevator opens and you enter the common area to see Tony, Pepper, and Natasha.

“Hey Tony, can I ask a favor?” you say. He’s just taken a drink and extends his arms. Before he can ruin it by speaking, you say, “Do you have a spare room?”

He frowns and you brace yourself. “You’re not staying with Rogers?” You’re not sure how much to divulge but Natasha spares you the choice and whispers in Tony’s ear. He recoils. “He didn’t tell–”

“Tony,” you say, feeling bone tired. It’s been a very long day. Thankfully he seems to get that and talks to Jarvis, so you ignore Pepper’s sympathetic look and whatever Natasha is doing.

The latter comes forward to squeeze your shoulder. “Give me your key,” she says. “I’ll go get you clothes.”

You hand it to her mutely, and as she leaves, Tony says, “All right, I’ve got something five floors away from Rogers. Does it need to be further?”

“It just needs a bed and a door that locks,” you say. “Thanks Tony; I’m sorry if I’m putting you out.”

He waves it off. “Even if I didn’t have a million floors, we’d just kick Rogers to the couch and let you have his room.”

You force a small smile. “Thanks Tony.”

“Get some sleep kiddo. You look like Bruce after a science bender,” Tony says and you take your leave. A science bender. That sounds a lot more fun than the realization that the man you're in love with thinks you’ll ditch him because he’s not big and buff. Fucking…

There’s a hot meal waiting in the kitchen when you reach the empty apartment. You debate going right to bed, but you decide you should probably eat something.

You’re still picking at it when someone knocks on the door. Your stomach churns at the few bites you’ve had. “Who is it, Jarvis?”

“Sergeant Barnes,” the AI says primly and you breathe a sigh of relief. Well, partial relief; he is Steve’s best friend, after all. “Shall I allow him in?”

“Yes. Please. Thank you.” You stab a piece of food with your fork and the door opens.

“Hey,” Bucky says gently. “I went with Nat to get you some clothes. We were totally proper; I swear.”

“There’s a first time for everything I guess.” The joke comes out flat, but Bucky chuckles politely. You stay where you are, hunched over food you don’t really want to eat.

Bucky comes over to drape an arm around you. “I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to eat that, not pick it apart to a molecular level.”

“Meh.” It is good, you think. You’re just not hungry. What if Steve thinks he’s right about you being fair weather? What if he thinks you’re a liability? What if…

Bucky squeezes you closer. “You okay?”

“I’ve had better days,” you say. “You?”

“Same.” He stays, and it’s nice. Not as nice as it could be, but Bucky is a good friend and you like having him around. You want Steve, though. After being kidnapped by one of his worst enemies– who is still on the fucking loose– you really want him close, but you…

“Bucky, why did he think…” You hold your head and stop. Bucky is your friend but he’s Steve’s first and you don’t want to put him in a bad place either; you just want to know why.

“Hey,” Bucky says and squeezes you tight. “I’m sorry. Nothing I can say right now is gonna come out right– it’ll either be throwing him under the bus or pushing you to work past it. As much as I wanna help, this is between you and Steve. But you love Steve and Steve loves you; I got faith the two of you will work it out. I know it.”

At this point, you can only hope.

You can’t sleep.

Today is officially the worst day ever.

Tony’s taste isn’t lacking in comfort in any way, yet you can’t seem to find a single ounce of it. The pillow isn’t right, the mattress isn’t right, the bed isn’t right, even the floor isn’t right and you’re ready to– well, not punch a wall, but do something drastic.

Except, when you think about it, something drastic is the only thing that seems good. You give your common sense a few seconds to kick in and, when that fails, you get up.

Steve answers the door looking disheveled but just as awake as you. Clothes hang off him and he looks unfairly adorable when his big blue eyes get even bigger. You would make a joke about him being lucky he’s cute, but the thought just makes your scowl etch deeper into your face; you can feel it. He says your name and smoothes back his hair. “What…what do you need?”

You sigh. And grumble. “You.”

“What?”

“Can’t sleep,” you say and stride past him for the bedroom. He follows a few paces behind, and stands hesitantly as you get into bed. With one sharp look, though, he scrambles in next to you, and Jarvis shuts off the lights. You still can’t sleep, but you feel a little less on edge with Steve beside you. Even if he is nothing but a tight ball of nerves.

He’s even carefully monitoring his breathing, the goddamn adorable jerk. You sigh and turn on your side, and wrap your arms around him. He freezes for a moment, then relaxes and wraps his arms around you. “Are you…okay?” he asks.

“I’m…something.” You sigh. “But being kidnapped is traumatic enough and I need the company.”

“Jarvis is–”

“I feel safe with you.”

Steve inhales sharply, like he’s surprised.

You roll your eyes. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m still mad at you.”

“I understand,” he says. “I’m pretty mad at me too, right now.”

But that’s not going to fly, and you shift back so you can see his face in the slice of moonlight. “For the record,” you say, “Schmidt’s a moron. I didn’t fall in love with Captain America. I fell in love with Steve Rogers– the man who was running in the park and stopped to help correct my drawing. The guy who came back to sit and draw with me, who kept coming back, who was sweet and kind and somehow also the biggest smart-ass I’ve ever known. That guy. That’s my guy.”

Steve’s eyes widen. You swallow. “I can’t imagine how jarring it is to get tossed between bodies, but this…” you put your hand on his chest, “…is still Steve Rogers. You may piss me off sometimes– if you didn’t I’d call ‘imposter’– but I still love you.”

He lets out the biggest sigh of relief you’ve ever heard, and his voice is filled with hope when he says, “So earlier–”

“You didn’t tell me. I was pissed.” You run your hand down his chest. It’s strange, but not terrible; just…unfamiliar. “We’re supposed to be partners, Steve. You’ve trusted me with so much. It hurts that you didn’t trust me with this.”

“I get that,” he says softly and takes your hand in his. “For what it’s worth, it’s not that I didn’t trust you to see me small–”

You glare at him.

“Well, not just that,” he quickly corrects. “And not mostly that. I’ve been thinking about it. A lot. I wanted to call you, I wanted you here, but at the same time I didn’t want you to see me like that. Like this. But I also didn’t want you to see me panic. I…I try to be strong. I want to be strong for you, to be someone you can lean on whenever, but this whole thing– Schmidt being back; the idea that Hydra could theoretically bring other people back, like Zola; that I can’t be part of the team like this, that I can’t look out for Bucky and Sam and Natasha and everyone– I…panicked. I holed up on my own for days, trying to get myself out of that headspace. I should have called you, I know that now, but I felt overwhelmed and I wanted to handle it myself.”

You take that in. “So it’s less that you were vain, and more that you were being a hyper-masculine fuckface.”

“…Yes.”

You want to scream. You settle for giving him the dirtiest damn look you can muster. “I could fucking smother you right now.”

He smiles sheepishly. “I’ve learned my lesson?”

“I fucking hope so,” you say. You shake your head. “Confiding in me doesn’t undermine your authority, Steve.”

“I know.” He presses his forehead to yours. “I know that now. I should have known that before. And I swear I’ll do better. I’ve come to you about things I haven’t told Bucky. I should have trusted you with this. I’m sorry.”

You nod. He does sound contrite. “Six pounds or six-hundred pounds, if you’re still you, I’ll still love you.” Logistically, you have to add something. “But if you get to be six-hundred pounds then you need an electric wheelchair. I can only push so much.”

“What if I was just bulky? Like Hulk?”

“I’d need a bigger apartment.”

“What if you got that anyway?”

“Huh?”

Steve props himself up on his elbow to lean over you. “I wanted to ask it, that day at the park, but I chickened out. I’m not going to be a coward anymore: I love you and I want to live with you. Would you move in with me?”

This is not how you saw the day going. But it is a definite uptick to a pretty terrible middle half. You feel a little smile starting to form. “But however will you hide from me then?”

He winces. “Consider this a lesson learned.”

“Oh, it will be,” you promise, because this was a big, big thing and you are far from through. But. “Yes. I want to be with you as much as possible. I’d love to live with you.”

His smile is a beam of sunlight and he leans in to kiss you before he lies back down. “I can’t wait; I bet you’ll take over the nook by the window.”

Well it is the nicest part of his– hold up. “Why your apartment? What’s wrong with mine?”

“Well…” His smile is mischievous. “I guess we could move into your shoebox…”

“Hey,” you say and push him playfully. He moves more than you expect and that fuels all sorts of ideas. “Oh…I have not been taking advantage,” you say and get up to straddle his lap and pin his shoulders down. Steve’s eyes go wide, but there is a definite sheen of pleasure in them even before you lean down to kiss him senseless.

Later, you’re about to doze off when Steve gives you one more kiss. “I love you,” he whispers.

“Love you too,” you mumble and fall asleep easily.

You wake to a scream.

You jump to sit up immediately and feel Steve writhing in the bed. The lights come on and you see him thrashing, face twisted into a grimace and shining with sweat. You try to put your hand on his arm but something under the flesh ripples and you yank your hand back. His body. Changing. He’s in so much fucking pain you can’t hardly stand it. “Steve! Steve! JARVIS!”

The door opens and Bucky comes charging in. Steve shouts and brings his hand down on the nightstand so hard a piece breaks off. You watch in horror as Bucky wraps him up in his arms, partially restrained, and runs out.

You follow him without hesitation, and as soon as the elevator dings for the medical level you rush out with him, though he’s much faster than you. Bruce is already hurrying to one of the rooms, along with a couple other people in lab coats, and Bucky– with Steve– goes in ahead of them.

You rush, but someone– Sam– catches you by the waist. “Hey,” he says soothingly. “Let them take care of this.”

You hope the look on your face properly conveys the level of ‘are you crazy?!’ that you want it to. “Sam, he’s in pain. I have to be there for him!”

But Sam shakes his head, and Clint and Natasha flank him. You have no chance at getting in on your own now, but that doesn’t stop you from trying. “Sam, please!”

Steve’s scream is only barely muffled by the door and you try to tear out of Sam’s grip only for him to yank you back and say your name. “If it were you, would you want him to see you like that?”

Tears sting your eyes. “That’s not fair.”

“It is though,” Sam insists and holds your shoulders. Firmly, but at least he isn’t squeezing your stomach anymore. “His strength is unpredictable right now; he can be holding your hand one moment and breaking it the next. Bucky’s gonna stay with him; he’s gonna be there for him.”

That’s…nice. But it doesn’t stop you from wanting to stay. Even if you can’t be with him. But when he screams again, it hurts that much more. “Was it this bad? The first time?”

“Oh yeah,” Sam says. “We, uh, learned from experience on that one. He almost broke Tony’s arm even through the suit. And you have to know how Steve would feel if he hurt you, even on accident.”

It would kill him. You sigh heavily and let the weight of it rest on your shoulders. “Fine. But after I take a shower and get dressed I am going to sit right here.”

“You don’t have to,” Sam says like he knows exactly how you’re going to respond to that. He’s not wrong.

“I know,” you say. “But I’m here. Good and bad all.”

It’s pretty bad. The screaming lessens over time, but that’s not necessarily a good thing. Luckily everyone now knows how you feel about being kept in the dark, so they keep checking in with you. They keep you company when they can, but you don’t expect them to hang around all day. You have nothing better to do. You don’t think there’s anything better for you to do.

By the afternoon Bruce comes out and beckons you forward. You scramble out of the chair and run in right past him.

Bucky is leaning against the wall, looking exhausted. He gives Steve a little nod, stops to hug you, and then goes on his way. Bruce goes too, shutting the door behind him, leaving you and a sleeping Steve alone.

He’s back to his Captain America frame, but his frown stays on his face. You take the seat next to him, and run your hand over his brow. His eyes flutter, and he turns his head to look at you. “Hey,” he croaks and smiles.

“Hey yourself.” You scoot closer and kiss his forehead. “How are you feeling?”

His smile is more of a grimace, at first, but it relaxes into something truly relieved the more he looks at you. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Not coming in after me,” he says. He holds your hand and squeezes it lightly. The broad palm and long fingers are a normal feeling, but you sort of miss his spindly digits. “I’m glad you didn’t see me like that.”

You roll your eyes. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to do that?”

He’s nonplussed. “I can imagine.”

“Would you have left?”

His grin turns crooked. “It’s a good thing our friends are as stubborn as we are.”

You groan, and press your forehead to this. “Steve Rogers, you are a real jerk sometimes.”

“A real lucky jerk,” he says. “Somehow I’ve got the best person to put up with me.”

“This person sounds like an idiot,” you say.

“They even agreed to move in with me.”

“And spend all their time with you? Gross.” You tilt your head to lay it on his pillow. “They must really like you, then.”

He nods. “They like Steve Rogers.” He holds your hand and squeezes. “And that’s all that matters.”

“I agree,” you murmur and allow your lips to graze his cheekbone. Those didn’t change much. “Steve Rogers is what matters.”

“And you,” he says and nuzzles your face. “Steve Rogers and you.”

Indeed.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #captain america fanfic #captain america reader insert #avengers reader insert #captain america x reader #angst with a happy ending #mild angst #fluff #couple's fight #established relationship #kidnapping

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acrobaticcatfeline · 5 years

Text

Thanatos Taunts Our Minds Without Our Consent

Word Count: 2949

TW: death, abuse, transphobia, cancer, i think thats it, if theres anything else sorry! let me know!

Notes: All my children have sad stories and Virgil just has to deal with all of it for always. Poor sons. All triggers were vague simplified references for the most part because the characters are so young. This is probably really bad and i probably did a bad job at explaining their stories but you know i love this and its done now so yeah.

Pairings: none, platonic analogical, prinxiety, and moxiety.

Summary: “Damn it! This kid needs to listen, he’s in so much pain, why won’t he just let go? Huh? Rem cut it out! PUT DOWN THOSE SCISSORS BEFORE YOU CUT YOUR ARM OFF!!!” Virgil is a grimm reaper and he has to save the soul of children every night. The past month has been making his life stressful as ever. he just needs Patton to come to Neverland soon.

“Damn it! This kid needs to listen, he’s in so much pain, why won’t he just let go? Huh? Rem cut it out! PUT DOWN THOSE SCISSORS BEFORE YOU CUT YOUR ARM OFF!!!” the Grimm started chasing his pixie friend around his room. After a few seconds the scissors fall, and the teen flew up and around to avoid them. He glared at the fairy as he landed and picked up the tools.

“you are obnoxious, you know that right?” tink tink tink “yeah yeah, exercise or something, listen, I don’t need to practice flying, I’ve been flying longer than you’ve been alive!” tink tink “what do you mean I haven’t flown for years? I’ve flown everyday for the past hundred thousand years you pest! At least I don’t need to bathe in dust everyday to continue flight” tink. “oh, shut up Remy.”

At that moment a quiet knock resonated through the large wooden room. The Grimm straightened and landed on the floor, touching it barely with one toe. He glared at the pixie before calling for the person to enter. The small creek of the door barely showed the small bit of blue hair peeking behind it, followed by little round glasses and a wash of bruises covering the body of the boy. A pinch of heartache stings in the Grimm, wishing that the marks from now 3 years ago would fade, yet still knowing they never would. He managed to plaster on a smile at the child, and sat on his knees, welcoming him in.

The boy smiled brightly and rushed into the arms of the teen, happily curling up in the warm hug given to him.

“why hello there Logan! How are you doing this fine morning? Are the others still playing nice? What have you come for young one?” the boy tightens his frail grip on the Grimm.

“Mr. Virgil! I saw you came back and I wanted to see you! I’m doing good, but Roman’s teasing me again. He painted my face blue earlier and said I matched my arms and legs.” Virgil frowned before smiling again, smaller this time.

“he doesn’t understand lo, he doesn’t know why you are all blue and so he’s reacting based on what he thinks. He doesn’t mean to hurt you. He really is a good kid, just like you!” Virgil ruffled the little boy’s hair and smiled wider at his childish giggles. “send him to me, I will talk to him about it. Don’t worry about it lo” Logan nods and gives one last squeeze before getting up and running to the door. He stops quickly, turns around, bows awkwardly, then runs out. The teen lets out a sigh and stands.

“who told him he needed to bow?” tink tink tink “ugh, Val and Thomas always have been ones for the dramatics. Little lo is so impressionable, geez, he was only 5! He should have turned 8 last week, but no, his parents- no, not right now, I can’t be getting so angry, Roman will be here soon and I’m not going to yell at him. Remy why is this job so hard?” tink “you know there’s a fly swatter right here if you really want to keep up with that mouth”

There’s a loud knock at the door and Virgil’s head whips to look at it and grant entrance. A taller kid walks in, looking worried. Virgil’s heart melts as he seats himself and beckons the child closer. The boy is slender, and has strong curves, matched with a pirate outfit that seemed too big at the ends and too small at the tops. His hair is long on one side and dyed bright red on the soft blonde locks, with no hair on the other side, shaved clean. The boy had his arms covering his chest tightly and protectively. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him as he walked up next to Virgil and sat across from him in a w sit while staring purposefully at the floor boards underneath him. Virgil adjusted into a criss cross and looked at the child who was still avoiding his gaze.

“Roman? Do you know why I called you here?” the boy shakes his head. “kiddo I need you to look at me ok?” he rises his head to look up at him through his hair. “so, you were teasing Logan about his arms and legs being blue earlier?” this caught Roman’s attention. His head was thrown up and his eyes looked terrified.

“NO!!! I mean, well, I guess, but I didn’t mean it in a mean way!!! He matched!!! It was just something I noticed and then I painted his face before I thought about it!!! He looks nice in blue and I- well I- I dunno… I wasn’t thinking I guess?” Virgil nodded and clicked his tongue to get Roman to look up again.

“do you know why his arms are like that Roman?” he shakes his head. “you know how when I found you your dad had thrown a shelf at you?” he nods. “for Logan, it wasn’t a one-time thing, having things thrown at him or being hit. The day I found him, he had been dealing with that for 5 years. Those black and blue marks were from where his parents hurt him” Roman gasps and covers his mouth as his eyes widen. “Unfortunately, this place pauses your body from aging, which means that those marks aren’t gonna leave him. Its not very good that you tease him on that. He’s not mad at you though, you know him, he doesn’t get angry very often and he doesn’t hold grudges. You know what he’d probably really enjoy?” Roman’s head tilts as Virgil summons a book, about 200 pages long. “if you read to him. I think you’d both really enjoy this one. Its about a secret and society protecting it from the bad guys and having to go on awesome adventures to keep the secret safe. Now, go and apologize and offer to read to him. You know you’re his favorite of the others, right?” Roman smiles and takes the book offered to him before giving him a big hug, bowing, and running out.

Tink tink tink tink “Remy I’m gonna throw you out the window.”

After that the rest of the day went rather normally and smoothly. That is until that night when he had to scoop up all those who had passed that day. 40,000 people every single day he had to convince to follow him. Adults were generally easiest, as well as super young or scared children. But at the end of the night he stopped at the little hospital room where a little boy with fluffy brown hair sat kneeling, trying desperately to watch the cartoon on the screen in front of him. Virgil flew in and sat on the uncomfortable bed before covering the little boys’ eyes asking in a spooky deep voice “guess who?” and the little kid giggled and swatted at his hands.

“Mr. Virgil!!! C’mon!!! I’m watchin tv!!!” Virgil smiles and laughs along with his eyes closed softly.

“now isn’t it a little late for little Patton’s to be up and watching tv?” he says while ruffling the boy’s hair. Surprisingly, he leaned into Virgil’s side.

“Mr. Virgil? Does my brain win against the super villain? Whys big bro so angry all the time? Ever since we moved here, he’s been grumpy. If I go with you will my head stop hurting? Can you help me?” Virgil wrapped his arm around him protectively.

“your brain can’t win Patton. But through your fight you’ll help the next person who has to fight it win. Your brother doesn’t know how to handle the fact that you’re gonna lose and that you’re hurting. Its hard for him to understand, but he loves you. He loves you so so much. If you come with me, you won’t have to fight the super villain anymore. They’ll leave you alone. I want to help you Patton, I really do, but I need you to follow me. Are you ready to go Patton?”

Patton coughs harshly and can’t look at his hand, now covered in blood. He nods, and Virgil helps clean him up and helps him get changed into his comfy outfit that isn’t the gown he’d been stuck in for months now. Jean shorts, a baby blue tank top with a cat hoodie over it, as well as thigh high gray and blue socks with his favorite white converse. Virgil brushes softly through his hair and pins it back with little barrettes. Virgil takes a look at the bed sadly, sitting there is the dying body of the boy in front of him. He waves his hand and tucks him in, he looks peaceful, the first time the kid has been at peace since he was 5. He douses Patton in pixie dust and pulls him through the window as he snaps his fingers to set off Patton’s monitor. He turns harshly back to Patton who’s flying, completely carefree even as his parents and siblings are alerted that they had finally lost him. They will be ok, they had prepared, they knew that the young boy wasn’t going to survive the massive tumor in his brain, but the loss of a child will never not hurt. He continued forward, the second star to the right, where everyone goes eventually, a place most call death.

After the long journey, they land on the beaches of neverland and Patton is quickly surrounded by all the lost children. Their excitement slightly scared Patton, but Logan snuck in between the bigger kids and looked at him quietly and curiously. The small boy picked up Patton’s hand and softly tugged him toward the shore as Virgil ushered the rest off to do some handiwork.

“look!” Logan says. “there’s a mermaid over there! Do you like mermaids? I like mermaids!” Logan sat down and messed with the water after seeing Patton’s nod of affirmation. “what’s your name? my names Logan! Mr. Vee saved me about 3 years ago! Did he just save you? Were you hurting too? Were your parents mean? Mine were super jerks, but I have cool marks that match my hair now, so I guess its alright.” He gestures at the bright blue and black stains littering his arms. “You wanna see some fairies?!”

“well uh, my name is Patton! I love fairies too!!! I dunno if he saved me, my parents were really nice!!! I was hurting, but that was the super villain in my head, that’s what mommy said. I got to wear a cool dress all the time which was cool!!! I’m sorry your parents were mean! When we go back, we can share mine!!! How old are you Logan? I’m 7!!!” Logan stills for a second then tilts his head.

“well I’m 5, or I was when he saved me! But what do you mean go back? We don’t go back! This is home now, you can be a lost boy!!! If you go back, your super villain will come back!!!” this causes Patton to start hyperventilating, he turns to Virgil who is pointedly looking away from him.

“M-MR VIRGIL I WANNA GO HOME!!! YOU SAID MY MOMMY AND DADDY WOULD BE WITH ME!!! PLEASE DON’T MAKE ME STAY I WANT TO SEE MY BROTHER!!!” Patton curls in on himself, and Logan backs away, scared at what he had done. Virgil walks over and kneels in front of the scared boy. He sets his hands on the kids’ tiny shoulder and hollowed cheek.

��Patton, I know you’re scared, but you can’t go back. This is where people who hurt go when it gets to be too much” Virgil pauses before sighing and continuing. “do you understand what death is kiddo?” he nods. “well I apologize, but you’ve died” Patton’s eyes widen. “this is where you go when you die. The last month I was trying to take you here, you were so very sick. You couldn’t eat, or walk, you were dying. My job is to get you before you suffer too long. You aren’t supposed to suffer. You won’t hurt here Patton. I promise you that everything is going to be ok now. Now, there’s a party to welcome you. Go on and have some fun. I have some more work to do, but I’ll be there soon” he cries into Virgil’s arms for a little bit longer before wiping his eyes and getting up.

“you promise?” Virgil nods. “…well, ok. Uh, bye then…” he walks over to Logan who smiles softly and grabs his hand and starts dragging him off to the center of the island.

Days like this are always hard for Virgil, but someone had to do it, and no one came around to relieve him of duty, so until then, he’d have to deal with it. Didn’t make the past 10,000 years any easier though. As Virgil walked over to his room, he sent his pens off to list all those who died that day. Though many in the world of the living will never know for certain who died when, Virgil kept a detailed list. He did a twirl as he changed out of his reaper robes and into his favorite outfit. He wore a tightly fitted purple plaid long sleeve with a patched jacket of the same colors but with a large storm cloud emblem on the back. He also wore ripped black skinny’s and dark purple converse. He lifted his hood and grabbed Remy as he left to the festival.

He walked up, seeing all the lost children celebrating and partying, even Patton dancing around. He let himself grin, at least he didn’t hate it here. He might even be able to have him become a lost boy. He stayed in the shadows, watching as his children introduced themselves one by one. He had missed most of them it seems, Roman being the only one left to go. He listened as he recounted his story.

“hello young Patton!!! I, am the great Roman, happily at your service. I have quite a story to tell. Now, I’ve been here for but a humble year. I was just 13 when I passed in such a horrible way. Now I was born as someone vile, her name shan’t be uttered, she had long golden locks and curves that were smooth like butter, but she was a witch! She wasn’t to be trusted, and I knew that. Since I was 6, I knew that she and I were opposite entities. When I turned thirteen, my loving parents, turned. They bore fangs and claws meant to rip me apart. They turned to foul predators for that night, I told them, I was Roman. I was a strong powerful man, and any who dare disagree would take me in a duel. They won, but they played dirty. They threw lamps, and tables, and knives. They were scared of me. But as I speak to you this very night, I tell you that Virgil, our caretaker, our beloved leader saved me. He swooped in, and before I felt the biting pain of the end, he swooped me away, and here, is more of a home than that ever was, because here is a place of love, unconditional. I know your story is tragic in a vastly different way, but I hope that neverland becomes your home as well” he bows and beckons Patton up on the podium. “go ahead and tell us your story darling. We are here to listen”

“oh! Um, hiya! My name is Patton, and I’m 7 years old” he clutches a stuffed dog that Virgil had replicated for him. “this is Mr. snuggles! Um, my story? Well, about three years ago I got really sick. My head hurt a lot and my emotions weren’t being good. My mommy told me about 2 years ago that I had a big bad super villain fighting my brain. And that my brain probably wasn’t strong enough to win. She said some more, but she was crying too much. We moved to this really big building and we had lots of roommates who were always checking on me. I guess we were staying with the doctors and the nurses. My parents and brother were always really upset at each other but were extra nice to me. About a month ago Mr. Virgil showed up. I didn’t wanna go, so I didn’t until tonight. My head hurt a whole lot and I could barely move, so I left with him. And now I’m here! Thank you guys for bein so nice to me!!! Is there gonna be more dancing?” the cheers erupt, and Logan is dragging Patton off to a chair with a bunch of books as Virgil shows himself and the crowd goes silent.

“hello lost children, and Patton, I see you’ve been having fun! Now that the festivities have commenced, I would like to offer a position in our ranks to Patton here. We have an elite group of brave kind-hearted kiddos who decide to join the lost children and protect the others from our enemies and those who seek to destroy what we’ve built. Would you like to be a lost boy dear Patton?”

“well uh, I dunno, that sounds scary, but um, s-sure! I’d be um, I’d be honored!”

“well that’s great news!!!” Virgil snapped and a cool sash and pin appeared around Patton’s shoulders as well as a hawk feather tucking itself in his hair. “in that case, let the party begin!”

Let me know if you want to be tagged in later days or my writing in general!!!

Thank you for reading I will see you later ladies lords and nonbinary royalty!!!

#virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #my writing #my fanfiction #peter pan grimm au #tw abuse #tw transphobia #tw death #tw cancer #oneshot

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