#havin a sad so I’m cheering myself up

[saiikavon]

Kaiba knows it’s a bad day when Jou is quieter than usual. He’s not that great at pep talks and he prefers looking for solutions rather than wallowing. It has negative consequences early in their relationship, when he tries to tackle everything by himself, instead of just acknowledging how Jou feels. With more experience, he learns to offer food when Jou isn’t too sad to talk and to consult Yuugi when Jou’s mood has really tanked. Sometimes Jou just needs some time with friends.

Jou has a harder time telling when Kaiba is having a bad day because he always seems to be having a bad day. And usually if Kaiba is genuinely upset he isolates, anyway. Consulting Mokuba isn’t as much help as he wants it to be, since Kaiba tries to bear it all himself or pretend it’s not happening. Eventually, it’s enough to let him shut down with someone around - Kaiba is surprisingly amenable to soothing cuddles when he’s feeling down.

#ygo #puppyshipping #violetshipping #joukai #shipping headcanons #havin a sad so I’m cheering myself up

[simon-x-billy]

Simon x Billy

Year of the OTP: February

Chapter 2: The European plug situation

February prompt: Different

AN: Simon x Billy is a slow-burn m/m fic using the first-time-bi trope; turns NSFW (male/male, consensual) beginning tamely at Chapter 7 (July).

Meet my OTP: Simon Lewis, author of a best-selling paranormal book series, who keeps writing himself into his novels; and Billy Delaney, Irish handsome devil and nomadic man of mystery, who chefs internationally; and Italy. It’s sort of like a threesome. Simon x Billy is a slow-burn m/m fic using the first-time-bi trope. TW: References to the pain of being cheated on, bad language, bad humor, puns, Irish-isms, making fun of Americans, massive rewrites.

Read it all: All: on ao3 || Start: January Ch.1 || Next: March Ch.3

Chapter 2: The European plug situation

———/Simon/———

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. This is not going the way I planned. I hate it when that happens. I was prepared.

Except for the European plug situation.

First off, my bad. My responsibility, my fault, my dead phone. On day 1, in another country that speaks a language I don’t parlo. Except when I’m having an internal scolding session. Apparently, io parlo Italiano just fine when I least need it. Like when I’m conducting a conversation behind my face. Behind my fucking face. (Whose lip I can feel curling to express distaste and low key angst.)

Ugh. They have to have cell phone chargers at the gift shop. I sigh. Looking around, it’s pretty obvious that this was originally some kind of old, schmancy vacation villa. Something tells me there’s no gift shop. It’s not that kind of hotel. Under my breath I whimper, “Fuck.”

“All right?” It’s Billy. I jump because why is he standing behind me?

I pivot and fix him with my very best suspicious glare. I went to theatre school. Ok, fine, summer camp. Point is, I give good face when needed. This is one of those times, one of those faces. “Jesus! How long have you been standing there, creeper? Were you listening in on my conversation?”

“You mean, the word ‘fuck?’ That was a pretty quiet, short conversation.” He’s grinning at me now.

“Did you go to theatre school?” I clarify, “Like, ever?”

Billy snorts. “No, man. Where’d that come from?”

He’s all good humor and it’s so totally inappropriate, I try willing him to stop. His eyebrow — oh my god it’s humongous wtf — one arches while the other frowns. How does he do that? At least the top half of his face isn’t grinning anymore. That’s progress.

“What?” he demands. “Why’re yeh lookin at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’d like me to feck right off, leaving you alone to realize you’ve not got your room key.” He jangles it at me.

“That would have been the topper to a very shitty day.” Having stopped rolling (not molly - the other kind of rolling), my eyes pop out of my head. Because he has handed me the keys. “Whoa,” I say reverently. “These are sooo cool.”

I have to keep myself from fondling them. “Skeleton keys,” I whisper.

“Glad they cheered you up, man. You were havin a mope there for a while.”

My mope returns. Sort of an exasperation + anxiety x annoyance, to the power of a lingering ache in my stomach that I know from recent experience is a bone deep sadness.

“And now it’s back,” he says. “Whatever’s goin through your head can be moped over later. Mate, you’re in Italy. Yeh haven’t seemed to notice that yet.”

“Is there a gift shop?”

“Sorry, what?” he asks. Is he laughing at me?

“A gift shop.”

“This isn’t that kind of hotel, mate, sorry. Is there something I can help yeh with?”

So many things. “I just remembered the plugs are different here. I have arrived in Italy with a dead phone and no compatible plugs. I feel so betrayed.”

He laughs and his eyes twinkle. They twinkle.

At least he can tell when I’m joking. That’s a thing.

“Don’t worry, Seemon. I’ll get it sorted.” He gives a small salute and disappears into the bowels of the hotel.

Oh shit. “Wait! Billy! Billy?”

A woman appears in his place from some dimly lit doorway. She reminds me of my mother. But with fewer anxiety and worry wrinkles criss-crossing her face.

Damn. Ma would be so wounded by that thought, so I put it out of my mind.

“Signore?”

“Oh, um, si, io non parlo Italiano. I like to start all my sentences that way,” I say with an attempt at charm. Billy doesn’t get to own charming.

She gives me a strange look, and responds with the old classic “Okaaaay,” in heavily accented English. “Why do you stand in the doorway? With the baggage around you like goats.”

Apparently neither one of us is very funny in English. I feel so lost in translation.

“Come. Let me make you checked in, and we will settle you. Come in from the doorstep,” she says as she turns away with her neck craning. “Leo? Leo!”

A young man (boy?) — A young man-boy hurries out of what appears to be an office. She’s peppering him with instructions that I can’t understand. My suitcases are being pulled right out of my hands. Rude! (But helpful. I guess.) Don’t try that in New York.

While she futzes with her computer, I finally take a moment to notice the amazing carved wood segment of wall behind her. I wish I could see it in detail. Figure out what story it’s trying to tell. It has something to do with nudity. I try squinting, but that’s all I can tell from here.

A bright, clashing array of intricately painted tiles are framed throughout the room. Chaotic, yes. Neutral, no. We’ll go with chaotic good. It’s also delightful, which I’m so not in the mood for at the moment.

She tells me about the amenities, breakfast times, the famous restaurant, blah blah blah as she leads me up three flights of stairs, and down a long, narrow hallway with many doors — none of which are mine. I’m starting to lose my bearings, but it’s only one more flight of stairs, atop which she pauses to unlock a door. “It is good, Signore Laywees? You have the face of a dog who is whining.”

“Wow,” I say, taken aback. Taken-aback has now officially been added to my repertoire of faces. Officially.

“Did I say something in a way that is wrong?” she asks, with a worried look.

“I don’t know. You might have actually wanted to call me a whining dog.” I start to chuckle.

“Yes. Exactly. A whining dog. I remember for next time.”

I blink.

She nods, “Si certo. Certo. And I tell you that what is here is the finest suite at Hotel di Limoni is here.” She ushers me on to the top floor. “You look around, you. See that there are no other doors here to this floor. You are here alone.”

“Yes. Yes, I am,” I nod, thank her, “Grazie,” and close the door behind her.

———/-/———

My mood disappears instantly.

Oh my god I’m in Italy.

The room before me has pale yellow walls the color of butter imported from Irish cows. That’s specific and descriptive, Lewis, nice one. (I try to encourage the writer within, whenever I can.)

Source Right: Hotel La Tonnarella. I stayed there, but not in that room. I wasn’t trying to get in that much debt.

Everything is in shades of sea and sky blues, bright lemon yellow, and pale Irish butter, with more of the chaotic good tiles here and there working their delightful magic. The bed cover is also in pale Irish butter. I will sleep in pale Irish butter tonight. Oh yes, I will.

The overall effect is an airy room, full of light, that recedes into the background against one hell of a view.

Large french doors lining the exterior wall lead out to a massive deck. One that I and I alone can access. The doors have been thrown open, with sheer curtains rippling into the room. The breeze off the Mediterranean Sea is fresh and cool.

Oh my god. That’s the Mediterranean Sea!

Or Tyrrhenian. Whatever.

I watch as boats speed across my entire view, appearing and disappearing between the open doors. They leave their long white slashes behind them, literally left in their wake. From inside the room, they look like dashes, stuttering white lines in each window darting through the perfection of the blue Medi/Tyrrhenian Sea.

Waking up to this is going to be amazing. She would have loved it.

“Fuck her. She can’t have it.” It’s mine, and mine alone.

———/-/———

I acknowledge that I need to stop. Stop with the moping. Fuck Billy for trying to be friendly and helpful, the bastard. That charming Irishman is right and I temporarily hate him for it. But only hyperbolically.

I walk out onto my balcony and into the bright sun. I immediately decide that this is worthy of a sunburn, and shuck off my shirt.

Oof. I’ve just realized that my eyes are watering because that distinctive odor is coming from me.

One would think a shower after a sunbath would be the rational, intelligent option. Nah. Intelligence has fewer hit points than stacking a 24 hour odyssey of jet lag, rumpled hair, eau de pit, and a bad attitude. I’m winning today.

“Chin up, Simon. Chin up.” That was Ma’s pearl of wisdom for this trip. The sum total of her empathy. She didn’t even like What’ser Name. So where’s the sympathy? The empathy? Apparently empathy dims in direct proportion to the glamorousness of one’s vacation destination.

Maybe I can wash the mope off. And the headache. And the me.

Grabbing my stuff, I head for the bathroom and stop dead.

“Dove il bano!” I cry. ‘Bathroom.’ Feh! What an absolutely disgraceful excuse of a word to describe something as magnificent as this. Look at it. So majestic, while also being mindfully calming. Everything everywhere is blue, and I can’t tell the inside from the outside.

Turning on a shower should not be this difficult. I am a grown man, goddammit. I should be able to figure out how to turn on a freakin shower. I mean, I figured out what the extra toilet was for. Correction: Not a toilet but a bidet. Though I admit to having called the front desk about it. What can I say, Italians like to have fresh butts.

“You will not defeat me, vile mechanism of demonkind, I will not be deterred, oh no! I will have my shower, and dammit, it will be good.”

———/-/———

I am happy to report to you, oh devoted fictitious audience in my head, that it was good. It was the best shower of my life. Or at least one of the top five, as I may have better showers even than this magnificent one at some point in the future. At least I doubt I will ever smell so good again. It’s the bath stuff made from a “beneficial” mineral spring somewhere around here. I want to smell like this every day for the rest of my life.

But first. The sun.

I feel unencumbered, unrestrained. So I skip the swim trunks and just wear my towel onto my massive deck. Deck. Not dick. Deck. I do want to let it all hang out there, but then, I also want to disappear into this experience, and the specter of horrified travelers covering the eyes of their crying children is enough to reinforce my modesty. I don’t want my dick ruining anyone’s vacation, so I keep the towel on.

———/-/———

I’m drooling as I wake up on my side with my ass half hanging out. It’s not a good look.

Turns out I couldn’t care less. Four uninterrupted hours of sun, in the peace and quiet of the apocalyptic visions usually filling my head these days. Whenever I think about the book I owe my editor — Noooo! Duck! Run! Hide! — See? I can’t. I won’t. You can’t make me.

And yet I have already double-crossed myself because I’m thinking about it anyway. Yesterday I was still slogging away at Book Four’s first chapter, and hating every single word I wrote. It was a whole pile of nothing. Less than nothing. It was tripe. So I gave up and rashly trashed it, deleting the offending text while I waited to board my flight.

All of it. It’s gone. And that’s a good thing, because every turn of phrase I had managed to wrest from my uninspired noggin just failed like a lead weight. Total fail. I’m used to having a tiny, yet enthusiastic filmmaker living inside my creativity. He’s really good at pulling forth the sweeping torrent of imagery I see like a movie in my head when I’m on a roll. (Again, not that kind of rolling.) But now? I can only manage six or so paragraphs at a time, and hatefully hate every one of them. “Whyyyyyyyy?” I ask the sky.

So here’s what I know: Half my characters will eventually be about to die unless Simon saves them. With the help of super-vamp Raphael and maybe a nymph or two. Looking up, I can see the islands they call the Syranusas, after the sirens who so callously call sailors to their deaths. So now I’m thinking maybe I’ll pull in some expendable mermaids, too. I dunno.

It all just sounds so played out. At least to my eyes. Like, I’m writing another war, with all the same characters, having the same powers, and using them all the same way, to rescue the same loved ones + world from evil the same way. Except I’ve stuck them all on the Mediterranean and added a bunch of mermaids. What’s next? Introduce zombies into the series as if they actually exist — for the first time in book four? Holy hell, writer’s block sucks. God.

This is supposed to be the book that finally focuses on Simon as the main character. The fans just will not shut up about wanting one. I groan. And not in a sexy way. I mean, I know I should be flattered that they like the whole twisty ‘he’s me’ thing, but how do I write a whole book about a character I based on me? Isn’t that kind of self-serving? Cringe?

I am such a dick. Only I would write myself into a book.

My eye-rolls are practically deafening at the mere thought of it. A whole book about me who is not me. And I have only me to blame. (Other me.)

———/-/———

Read More: All on ao3 || Start: January Ch.1 || Next: March Ch.3

#year of the otp 2023 #year of the otp #simon x billy #february chapter #simon lewis #billy delaney #february chapter 2 #the European plug situation #chapter 2 #february #the year of the otp 2023 #robert sheehan character fic #tmi fanfic #tmi fic #simon #billy #robert sheehan #otp #simon is simon #pin #pinned #my pins #year of the otp event #year of the otp event 2023 #year of the otp prompt event #prompt event #event #ao3 event #writing event #fic writing

[yamithediaperdork]

Rewarded as a bully deserves (HunterXhunter)

Killua was in a rotten mode as he headed for the closet park in town, huffing and growling over him and Gon having a fight.

It was just so stupid! Here he was, a deadly assassin and for the 6th time this month they'd woken up in a bed drenched with pee. Lord knows Gon was trying to be kind and supportive but really, who could blame him for getting tired of waking up soaked?

Gon wanted Killua to start wearing 'protection' at night to bed, but the deadliest bed wetter alive refused to go that far, he had already comprised and let Gon put rubber sheets on the bed so hotel staffs stopped giving them a hard time hadn't he?

In any case they had taken a shower and gotten dressed, and Gon asked Killua to go for a walk by himself and think about what he had said.

'Screw that nonsense.. I'm go and cheer myself up the best way I know how!' Killua thought as he came to the playground area of the park. Nothing lifted his spirits like a little bit of harmless bullying.

Scanning the play area Killua spotted a good first target. a 5-6 year old with dark tanned skin and a black brush cut was digging away in the sandbox, making a moat around a sad looking sand castle he'd made with one hand, while licking away on a mint chocolate ice cream cone with the other.

spotting a plastic bucket with some water in it for the moat, Killua smirked and strolled over.

"Nice fort little guy." He said sarcastically, getting the boys attention and the kid gave him a smile.

"thanks! I was working on it for like ever!" The little guy said, apparently not recognizing the tone.

"Heh, Would be a shame if something happened to it though." Killua chuckled. "you did get house insurance against giants right?"

"Uhhh what?"

"well what if some big mean old giant.." Killua started, stepping into the sand box now. "Just came up..and did THIS!" Killua asked and stomped his foot down on top of the fort, snickering as the little guys eyes went wide.

"HEY! WHY'D YA DO THAT?!?" the little guy yelled, starting to stand up and with tears welling in his eyes.

"Because i'm better, stronger and therefore better then you. Little dorks have to get put in their place." Killua sneer and then grabbed the arm holding the ice cream cone and make the kid smuch it onto his hair. "Geez you little dorks are SUCH messy eaters!"

The boy squealed as the sudden cold on his head and how icky it felt.

"S-Stop this! I-I" the boy tried to make his threat clear but he was also trying not to full on bawl.

"heyyy don't worry about it, I'll help you clear up!" Killua laughed, then snatched up the bucket with the water in it and dumped it on the boys head, then tugged it down over the kids eyes.

"Hey, that's a good look for you, but it's missing something." Killua said and sneered, then turned the boy around and tugged back the kid's short then tanked up on the poor little guys briefs.

"Awww, a fan of sailor moon I see!" Killua teased and hooked the back of the briefs on the back of the bucket, then booted the kid in the ass, sending him sprawling out of the sand pit.

"Alright, I had my fun, get the fuck out of here before I decide to be mean." Killua said cheerfully.

the thought that all of this had been Killua being nice light a fire under the boy's butt, and he ran/crawled off, not even trying to remove the helmet or pick the wedgie out of his butt.

"well, I feel better already." Killua commented to himself, though he noticed a few other kids and adults glaring at him.

"Oh by all means, anyone who wants to try and punish me.. " Killua said, going from a happy goofy look to his slash smile. "Step up."

no one did.

After scaring two more little guys into give him all their ice cream money Killua was in the middle of getting a cone (Double chocolate mint just like the dork had had, it had looked good after all) when he heard a familiar voice.

"That's him Carlo! that's the bully!" cried the dork from before.

Turning around slowly Killua smirked, Carlo was clearly the dork's big brother, and while he was a little bit taller then Killua he had a slim build and the same tanned skin, though his hair was a bit longer while still being short.

"Ok mister, I'm going to give you ONE chance to say sorry to my little brother, and get him a replacement cone. If you don't.." Carlo said, crossing his eyes and glaring at Killua with a death glare.

Killua, who gave those out with ease froze for a tiny fraction of a second, and his bladder twitched, but he shook it off and took a long lick of his ice cream to show he wasn't scared, and to give him time to regain his composure.

"What? If i don't you'll do -what?-" Killua asked. "Try and fight me and end up hanging from the teeth ball pole by your undies? I mean, I'm mostly in a good mood now but if it's a ass kicking you want." Killua sneered.

Carlo rolled his eyes, then smirked.

"You know..I've been in a bit of a funk lately, and beating up bullies always makes me free better.. so thanks." He said.

Killua raised a eyebrow to thank but before he could react, Carlo was right next to him, and much like Killua had done before, taken a gripe on the arm with the ice cream cone.

On small difference though, Carlo wasn't going to make him put it in his hair and had tugged open the front of Killua's shorts and undies.

"W-Wait d-don't!" Killua shrieked, his plea fell on deaf ears though and he was somehow powerless to over come the taller boy power.

As such, a high pitch wail was heard as Killua's twig and berries got a double mint chocolate coating.

Killua's eyes crossed and a cartoonish image flashed in his mind as it felt like his private had just been transformed into two ice cubes and a Icicle, then there was sudden relief and warmth, making him stick his tongue out the side of his mouth in blessed relief.. at least until he noticed the warmth was traveling down his legs.

"heh, Carlo the bully wet himself!" The little guy pointed out, snickering and getting out his phone to take pictures.

"I can see that buddy, Aww, did the cold cold ice cream make da big bad bully go wee wee?" Carlo asked, folding his arms over his chest and baby talking to Killua.

"i..I uh.." Killua stammered, Sure, he was no stranger to soaking his pants at NIGHT while he was asleep, but this was a new one for him! "I..didn't go tinkle?" He finished lamely.

"Rightt then whats that making a puddle on the ground right now and staining your shorts." Carlo asked.

"..I don't have to answer that! In fact, I've had enough of false accusation's and I'm leaveing!" Killua huffed and turned around to do just that, but also exposed his back to his new found enemy.

Carlo, knowing that Killua had wedgie his little brother Hector, moved in and with on hand tugging Killua's shorts back the other grabbed the waist brand of Killua's Barney briefs and lifted up before the poor hunter even had a chance to fight back.

Killua's mouth opened as if he was screaming, and while dogs howled in pain no one with human ears could of heard the noise coming from his mouth, it was that high pitched.

Carlo smirked at the response and said "Awww, Barney briefs? that's just soo..fitting! But I wonder how strong they are?" then adding his other hand to the back of the waist band even as Killua looked over his shoulder and shook his head no, bringing his hands together pleading, Yanked the soon to be ex-hunter off the ground by a good 2 inches if now more and dangled him there as Killua turned pale and went blank eyed.

"Oh wow, those must be reinforced Carlo!" Hector marveled, recording this all for YouTube.

"I know, kinda a shame, if they weren't they'd of snapped by now and he'd know SOME relief." Carlo chuckled then turned him and Killua better into frame for the camera.

"hi I'm Carlo and this is a big bully who tried to pick on my little brother..Huh, never caught his name.. Hey wedgie boy, whats your name?" Carlo asked and holding Killua up with just one arm delivered a hard swat to Killua's buns, which also ended up making his shorts slide down around his ankles showing off his pee stained undies.

"A-AH! M-Mah name is Killua Zoldyck and I'm super super sowwy! Pwease stop!" Killua begged and pleaded, in a voice that sounded like he'd sucked on some helium.

"I dunno Hector, what do YOU think? Has Killua had enough?" Carlo asked, and Killua shot the boy he'd bullied a pleading look, bottom lip trembling and tears welling up.

"Hmmm you know I really think..that you should use him like a yo-yo till his undies snap. THEN I'll forgive him!" Hector giggled.

With both hands on the waist band Carlo went to work even as Killua started to blubber and cry for his mommy.

It ended up taking a record breaking 55 bounces before Killua's undies snapped, and by that time Killua had gone to la-la. with his undies snapped and ripped off off he was too out of it to notice that he was currently face down butt up with nothing covering his der rear and his bubble butt and little package showing.

"oh man.. that explains why he was in such a bad mood.." Hector giggled, having turned off the camera for now but uploading the video. (after all, even with a member as small of Killua's the mods on YouTube would of removed the video)

"man, makes me feel like I picked on a over sized toddler. feeling a little guilty." Carlo said, though in truth he wasn't really.

Killua's shorts were gone by this point as the boys who's ice cream money he had stolen had retrieved them, and after finding some of the cash and taking Killua's wallet, had tossed them in a bin meant for dog waste.

"Well, nothing we can do now, we don't have any spare pants for him." Hector pointed out.

"Well not quite..remember that weird vendor we passed on the way in?" Carlo said, digging into his pocket and pulling out some bill's.

"Heh.. you don't mean.." Hector asked.

"A yup. be a good boy and run and get widdle Killua something to wear." Carlo said, handing the money over and keeping a eye on 'sleeping beauty' while Hector ran off.

Killua was having a wonderful dream about having a endless buffet of candy and chocolates and it was so nice after what must of been a nightmare where he was tormented and bullied beyond belief.

He was slowly waking up and rolling over to sit up and rubbing his eyes. "Nggggh Heyyy Gon, you wouldn't believe the night..mare..I.." Killua started to say then opened his eyes, seeing Carlo and a semi crowd all around.

"Welcome back to the land of the living tiny!" Carlo said.

Killua huffed at that and stood up, about to tell Carlo off, he wasn't THAT much shorter when a breeze blew and he noticed how much he felt it on his on buns.

Looking down his face went crimson and Killua grabbed at his shirt and tugged it down, trying to cover up his privates.

"W-WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY UNDIES? MY SHORTS?!" Killua yelled, getting roars of laughter from the crowd.

"Well your undies were totally wreaked so we tossed them." Carlo said, nodding over to a waste bin for normal trash. "As for your shorts, there was a couple of boys you really seemed to annoy earlier and after getting back they're ice cream money with interest, they tossed them in the dogie waste bin..I doubt you'll want them back."

"but..but.. I can't go around with my ding dong on display!" Killua whined and whimpered.

"That's true. don't worry, I already thought of that shrimp." Carlo said and nodded behind Killua.

Killua turned to look and there was Hector, the brat he wished he'd never of picked on, running back with a pack of...DIAPERS!?

Killua whimpered loudly, a spurt of pee coming out and soaking the bottom of his shirt as he turned back to Carlo with pleading eyes.

"Please no! anything but diapers!" Killua whimpered. "I'm not a baby!"

"heh, Are you SURE about that?" Carlo asked, looking down and making Killua's gaze follow to the damp spot on Killua's t-shirt.

"i..but..that was because.." Killua mewed then shrieked and jumped, grabbing at his bun's as Hector came in range and walloped Killua's baby butt.

Ironically when he came down he landed in Carlo's waiting arms, like a blushing bride.

"Awww how cute, but you really think I'm gonna save you?" Carlo asked, then dropped Killua onto the hard ground and onto his tender buns.

"S-Stop being s-so mean to me!" Killua whined, on the verge of anther crying fit.

"Sheesh, I should of gotten him a paci." Hector said, handing the pack of diapers over to Carlo then tugging the shirt up and off of Killua, using it as a tear rag then tossing it out.

"Oh wow, Lookie here Killua~" Carlo said, reading the pack then holding it in front of Killua's face then read from the back. " 'New little poopers punishment diapers are perfect for your so called big kid who refuses to use the potty! extra thick to ensure they waddle, it comes with a embarrassingly babyish nursery print we promise to have your little stinker blushing bright red. with a special stink guard you and the big baby won't have to deal with their stink!' Heh wow, Oh look, they offer alt versions, that's something to keep in mind if you need more lessons."

Killua meanwhile was looking at the front of the package, showing sobbing pre teens in the bulky diapers and smirking parents.

"I-I changed my mind! I'll go home naked!" Killua whined.

"Nonsense! what kind of person would I be if I let you go without the diaper you CLEARLY need!" Carlo said, as if he was doing Killua a favor. "This is gonna go down one of two ways loser. You can either lay back and suck your thumb while I put as many of these as I can on you, or I can kick your ass, knock you senseless..then put as many of these as I can on you. Either way, you're going back to diapers. YOUR choice."

Killua pouted, started to ball a fist up.. then sighed and laid back, popping his thumb in his mouth and turning away from the crowd as laughter and taunts rang out.

"Loser!"

"Big baby!"

"Wuss!"

Carlo was a little disappointed that Killua decided not to fight back, but he had to admit seeing the wanna be bully accepting his big baby fate was kinda cute.

ripping the back open open Carlo smirked, dispute being the size of a pack that should be able to hold 16 diapers, there was only 6 of them in the pack and he pulled on of the massive things out, making sure everyone could see all the rattles and paci's and teddy bears and the like all over the diaper then unfolded it.

"Ok Shrimp, Butt up! If i have to lift you up I'm giving your buns a swat!" He said and wasn't shocked when Killua's butt almost levitated up in a instant to avoid any more punishment. "good boy!"

getting the almost pillow like diaper under the loser's butt, he gently pushed Killua's butt back down and smirked as Killua loudly sucked on his thumb, getting drool going down his chin as Carlo pulled the front up nice and snug and then taped it up.

"Welcome back to babyhood Shrimp." Hector said, leaning down and snickering, and making Carlo beam with pride.

In the end they only manged to double diaper Killua, the diapers were just too massive and they ripped a third one trying to get it on the babfied brat.

After he was all nice and snug in his diapers Carlo told Killua to try and get up and to Killua's massive shame, not only could he NOT get up on his own, but he couldn't even get close to bringing his knees together.

The fourth time he just plopped down on his butt trying to get up, Carlo rolled his eyes and chuckled.

"-sigh- Ok Shrimp, let me help you." Carlo said as if he was doing Killua a favor.

Holding out his hands Killua took them and got yanked up to his feet, legs wobbling as he tried to center his balance.

"heh, you might need a bit to get used to waddling in there. Try waddling over to that tree over there." Carlo said, pointing to a tree that would of only been 10 seconds away normally, but with this massive bulk taped around his hips it might as well been a mile away.

Still, Killua knew better then to argue at this point and took a wobbly step, then anther, and smirked, thinking he was getting the hand of it.

'I got this! I can-' He was thinking when his fourth step went wrong and with a loud yelp Killua plopped on his butt, a shocked look on his face but not hurt considering the thick padding under his butt.

"Awww, widdle baby Killua doesn't know how to walk!" Hector giggled, getting more laughter from the crowd.

"yeah, guess you better stick to crawling shrimp..you CAN at least do THAT can't you?" Carlo asked, tilting his head and smirking.

Killua huffed, he wanted to try and walk again but knew he wasn't getting any help and there just wasn't anything to help him get up to his feet with around. He toyed with getting in the crawling position and pushing himself up THAT way but had a feeling while he'd be in the middle of it Carlo would just smack his butt and send him face first into the dirt.

getting on all fours and trying to drown out the snickers and flashes of camera phones going off, Killua rolled around and got on all fours and then slowly crawled over towards the tree, glad that he had been right that he could crawl at least.

'at least i didn't have to do a diaper scoot across the ground, knowing my luck it would of ripped apart the diaper and I'd of gotten a spanking.' Killua thought with a sulk as he reached the tree.

"Well well, at least you can crawl, I was worried I was gonna have to carry you over." Carlo snickered. "Now use the true shrimp and get to your feet, and shake that diapered ass and sing us a song about what a big dumb baby you are and how happy you are to be back in diapers."

"..Your joking right?" Killua asked, jaw dropping. "There is NO WAY in hell I'm gonna d-" he started started to say but Carlo cracked the knuckles on his right fist and and light tapped his fist into his open left hand.

"You SURE about that?" Carlo asked.

"..W-what If I can't think of any lyrics because I'm a big dumb baby?" Killua squeaked out, flooding his pampers.

"I'm sure you'll think of something. It's ok if your dumb is lame though, your just a diaper baby shrimp." Carlo said.

Grunting with effort, Killua pulled himself to his feet, hands braced on the three and looked over his shoulder, the crowd was watching with delight and he trying to think of something, anything to sing.

"I...I'm big baby Killua and I'm so happy.." he started, wiggling his diaper, shutting his eyes.

"Because a big strong boy put me in a nappy!

Diapers are totally wear I belong!

so I hope all of you love my big dumb baby song!

I thought I was a bully but I'm just a dweeb

filling my diapers up with pee pee

If i ask for undies look at me like I'm a nut

then make baby poop with a punch to the gut!"

The act of singing the song and keep his eyes closed so he didn't have to see the crowd (though he could hear them laughing and cheering him on) had Killua's body getting into it and he was shaking his diaper booty like there was no tomorrow.

"Stupid babies like me we don't need to think!

we just sit in our diaper and super stink!

Watch me prove that as a baby I'm the best

I'm gonna fill my diapers with a super big mess!"

Killua's eyes shot open at that, had he really just promised that!? worse, his body was again moving on it's own accord and he was squatting down now, grunting and pushing, puffing out his cheeks.

'no no no no! why can't I stop myself! GOOOON! HELP!' Killua thought.

"Killua? whats going on?" Came Gon's voice.

Killua almost didn't believe it at first, it was just he wanted Gon to save him that he heard the voice of his boyfriend! But no, a look over his shoulder showed Gon standing there, eyebrow raised.

"G-Gon you have to s-save me! I-I-I.." Killua tried to tell Gon about what had happened, how he'd been victimized but before he could get the story out, something else came out in the back of his diaper. "I'M POOPING!" Killua cried out.

if the muffled farts hadn't of been hint enough, the back of the THICK diapers bloating out and getting even bigger would of given it away, and despite the diaper's boast of super stink guard, Killua's backed up stinky load (he hadn't gone in 5 days) was filling the area with a rotten smell, driving part of the crowd away.

Gon for his part just held his nose and then shook his head.

"Really Killua? You won't wear diapers to bed despite being a bed wetter, but you'll load them in public..Your coming with me mister man." Gon scolded and walked over.

"Um.. Should we tell him-" hector started to ask Carlo, holding his own nose.

"Nah, it's better this way. you can get out of the area of effect though, I'm gonna go say by by to baby Killua."

Walking over Gon was scolding Killua and swatting his boyfriends mushy butt as Killua whined and whimpered, sucking his thumb and still going.

"Hi, I'm Carlo...I was watching your little guy today." Carlo said, holding out a hand.

"Oh, well, thanks. I'm sure he was a handful." Gon said, giving Killua a look then shaking Carlo's hand.

"well he wasn't that bad. it was a lot of fun actually. anyways, here's the rest of the diapers Killua got and asked me to put on him, and if you even need a babysitter, give me a call." Carlo said.

"Heh, i just might, give me your number." Gon said, taking out his phone and handing it to Carlo, one hand still mushing Killua's tush.

"there we go. anyways, you two have fun! Byeeee baby Killua! you were LOTS of fun to play with." Carlo said and waved bye to the stinky big baby.

"Killua, don't be rude!" Gon scolded.

Killua whimpered, knowing there was no way he was living this down, he was gonna be in diapers for at LEAST a month..and knew it was pointless to try and tell the truth now.

Sliding his thumb out of his mouth as he finished loading his diaper, he gave a weak wave to Carlo and in a small voice said

"Bye bye."

The end

[lu-undy]

Un-Alone, Chapter 21

Follow this link!

"Oh, that's the spot, Micky…"

"Right on the muscle?"

"Yeah… God bless you, son, that cramp's killin' me…!" 

It was just past dinner now and Mundy was helping his uncle stretch leg. 

"Y'know, I'm havin' more of these as of late."

"Cramps you mean?"

"Yeah." 

"Did you tell the physio about it?" 

"I did. He said it was because I needed to relearn how to use the muscles there. That's why he suggested I walk a bitmore. He did warn me that it would be painful at first, but apparently that's normal."

"As long as it's normal…" Mundy said. "I'm happy to stretch and massage your leg as much as you need." 

"Thanks, son." 

They exchanged a smile and Philip looked around them. Caroline was in the kitchen, washing the dishes and tidying up no doubt. 

"Uhm… Micky?" 

"Yeah?" Mundy raised his head to his uncle. 

"There's somethin' the physio said and uh… I didn't tell Carrie yet. I don't even know if I'll ever tell her in the end." 

Mundy frowned. 

"About my leg… The physio said that the chances I'd be able to run again are uh… very thin. Now, I'll be able to walk thank God, cause Marty needs his exercise, but more than that, nah, not really."

"Oh… I'm sorry Uncle Phil. So uh… How're you gonna go back to work…?" 

"I'm filing some paperwork to get into early retirement. I don't think I'll get back to work." 

Mundy heard the sadness in his Uncle's voice. 

"You'd have preferred to go back, yeah?" 

"Yeah… I mean it's nice to stay at home with you guys but when you'll go back to Oz, I'll be left here alone, more or less stuck at home and uh, it's just borin'...!"

Mundy took a bit of the massaging cream and started massaging the muscle.

“You could try and look for stuff to fill in yer days. Mum does quite a bit of knitting for poor kids and she sometimes goes out on Saturdays with her friends. Dad likes to go fishin’ with a few of his mates… I’m sure you can find a club of people who do what you like to do.”

“Yeah but that sounds like the stuff made for proper old people…! I mean I know I’m not as young as I used to be but…”

“Look at the bright side of things, you won’t have to run after drug dealers and stuff like that. Most people would call that normal…!” Mundy said with a chuckle and Phil joined him on it.

"Yeah, that's true…”

“You alright, boys?” Caroline exited the kitchen. 

“Yeah, Micky here is helping with my leg.” Philip answered. 

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it and I’ll go get some sleep.”

“G’night Mum, see ya tomorrow.”

“Night, Carrie!”

Caroline left both men alone. Silence fell until Philip heard Carrie’s bedroom door click shut.

“If ye wanna go out tonight, you can go, Micky, the cramp’s gone and I can feel the cream doin’ its thing.”

“Oh, uh, I can stay, Uncle Phil, it’s fine.”

“No, no, boy, you go and have your fun. I’ll call Marty and we’ll watch whatever's on the TV. Marty? Good boy, gimme the remote… Remote, boy! Ah, that’s it, that’s my boy, yeah, good boy…”

The German Shepherd brought the remote to his master and jumped on the sofa to lie by his side.

“Uncle Phil…?”

“Yeah?” The old man switched the TV on.

“Why’re you doin’ this?”

“I’m not doin’ anythin’, son, I’m just-”

“Uncle Phil, please. I’m not a kid.”

Philip sighed and moved his eyes from the TV screen to Mundy’s eyes.

“I’m just… Makes me sad, son.”

“What?”

“You’re bein’ all alone and far from home here. You don’t even have your mates around to cheer you up.”

“Cheer me up from what?” Mundy frowned.

“From bein’ alone! Look I’ve spent most of my life alone and even if Marty helps, it’s not the same as spendin’ some time with a lady. I know we talked about this and your mum told me you might be a bit sad cause your latest one left you but-”

“Enough!” Mundy said and it slashed through his uncle’s speech. “I’m tired of this! I’m tired of you and Mum lookin’ at me with pity, like I’m sad cause I can’t get myself someone! I don’t want anyone right now, ok? I’m happy bein’ alone and I don’t need you or Mum or anyone to come into this! It’s my business, alright? I don’t go around askin’ you what’s buggerin’ you in yer heart, do I?”

“But Micky-”

“Fuck’s sake…!” The Aussie jumped to his feet, he put on his boots, grabbed his hat and glasses and left the house, slamming the door after him. 

Philip sighed from the other side of the door. 

“What was that, Phil?” Caroline had joined him in a fluffy pink dressing gown.

“C’mere and sit down, Carrie, I think I messed up…”

Meanwhile outside, it was raining. Pff, it had to, of course.

Mundy climbed in his van and pressed his foot angrily down the gas pedal, leaving the place in the roar of his furious engine. He drove away, the wipers on his windshield wiping away the waters of the frustration growing inside him. 

God he was tired of his family. He was tired of how pushy they were with him. He knew they were doing it with the best of intentions but he would prefer it if they didn’t at all. Mundy sighed and realised that on this, he might prefer his father’s approach. At least he could ignore his disappointed looks, his sighs and when he shook his head. 

Yes he was on the verge of turning forty. Yes he was alone, and so bloody what?! Had it never happened before? Also, quite ironic that his uncle bullied him about it when he himself had spent his life alone! Oh the nerve of the guy! 

The van stopped at a red traffic light and Mundy opened his glove box to get a cig and the match box. Mh, better now. At least the burning he felt was down his throat and not just in his heart. He looked left and right, through the blurry lines of the pouring rain at night, and he realised only few people were left that were still up and about in the streets. The white noise of the rain hitting the van’s roof was soothing, it melted with the rumbling of the van’s engine to provide some comfortable company, albeit mute. 

Mundy drove through roads he did not know, but stayed in town, not straying too far away from it. Something was bothering him. The amount of effort and pity that his relatives showed him regarding his love life… 

Maybe that contributed to his feeling miserable too? Maybe if they did not look at him with so much pain, he would not feel the crushing weight of his single status above his head? Maybe he would feel more hopeful about it all if they looked at it that way too, instead of encouraging thoughts of distress? 

Hm.

If only… If only he could let it out… If only there was a quick and easy way to fix his frustration…

Mundy switched gears as he came to yet another red traffic light. He fell deep in thought. How could he make himself feel better? The night was cold and damp, he couldn’t spend the night out on his van’s roof in the middle of nowhere. He ended up in a parking lot. 

“Bloody hell…” He said as he pulled the handbrake and threw his hat on the passenger’s seat. 

Ha, a passenger’s seat that never really saw the shadow of any passenger, but whatever.

Mundy smoked some more. He found a half open packet of biscuits and a half empty bottle of water in the glove box. He helped himself to pass the time. He expected the biscuits to crunch but they only melted, soggy as they were from how long they had stayed there. The water bottle had condensation all over on the inside. Mundy chucked them all back in teh glovebox and closed it. 

He frowned and smoked some more, blowing the bitter smoke as his thoughts rolled out of him. 

Finding a sheila. 

Hell if he wanted, he could probably have one. He wasn’t too bad with them, he even tried to hit on a few of them before and got his successes. Well, successes was a bit of a stretch when most of them were one-night-stands and never asked for more. But Mundy recalled having a few… well… relationships, with sheilas, something where they saw each other a few times. It had never lasted more than a few months at most and even then, it was only because she was making all kinds of pretexts to not break up with him clean and sharp. Cowards they can be, sheilas. Instead of telling him she had found someone she thought was better, she kept on phoning him from time to time, even went to see him, let him kiss her and such, only to tell him after months that it was to not hurt him… 

Well that hurt even more! That she had moved on to someone else after only a few weeks was insulting enough - she hadn’t taken any time to know Mundy better - but that she had toyed with him that way was just cruel. 

And what was that with that sheila the other day…? He couldn’t get hard at all with her… That was just embarrassing, orh… Mundy wiped his brow painfully. Why…? Was it just her or was it…? 

“Bugger…” The thought of it alone made him break a cold sweat. 

There was one way to find out. 

Mundy hopped off his van and climbed through the back. He kicked his boots off and climbed up his bed. Lying down, he slid a hand below his mattress where he found a few charm magazines. Without wasting time, he flipped his night lamp on and unzipped his trousers.

“Alright…” He relaxed and opened the first magazine. He let his eyes linger on the curves, the shapes, the enticing flesh sometimes half hidden behind delicious and delicate black laces… All the while, he palmed his crotch, gently, there was no rush, maybe he preferred it slow, eh?

He flipped the page and oh, yeah, that was nice, wasn’t it? That sheila had a chest he could drown in, orh, and her tights… He could rip it all out with his bare hands and kiss her beautiful thighs… That one had wild curly hair, and that blond had an arse made for grabbin’, right?

Mundy cast a glance between his legs and the answer his body gave him defeated him. 

He flipped the pages until he saw one completely naked. Yeah, yeah that’s the business! No clothes or anythin’, just what God gave her, oh, beautiful, that one was opening her legs just enough for him to recognise a sight that used to get his blood flowing. He pulled the magazine closer to his face and stared at what was his last hope.

He took a moment to palm himself more at the sight but then, when he looked down, he sighed and chucked the magazine away and covered his eyes. 

“Fuck me…”

Not a single one of these ladies, however curvy, thin, blond, brown, or anything else, none of them managed to raise his dormant mast…

So did that mean that it was over? He didn’t feel anything at all for women? No, no there was a last chance, maybe he needed the real thing, maybe images did nothing to him because-because they were mute! And they didn’t move! Maybe he needed a real woman and it’d all go and-and he’d look back at himself and laugh, right?

Alright, okay, then he didn’t need to rush it, right? He zipped his trousers back up, put his boots back on and went back to the front of his van. The rain had stopped and he sat there, thinking, hatching all kinds of schemes to try and trick his own body to react to the thought of a woman. Mundy closed his eyes and fell deep in thought. Could he picture a lady going down on him? When was the last time he had sex with a woman, bugger…? Oh, and what was the best sex he had ever had with a girl, surely that ought to get his blood pumping and his masculinity standing at attention, right?

With his eyes shut, Mundy tried to recall the most torrid night of love with a female. Had he liked it better with this one…? Or maybe that one…? Oh, he couldn’t even remember their names. Their faces were blurry, there was long hair involved was the only thing he could make out of his foggy memory. Alright, maybe let’s not focus on what he had indeed lived, let’s just dream, alright? What did he dream of doing with a woman? What did he dream of having a woman do to him? Uh… Well… Uhm… Let’s have a thougth, shall we? C’mon, Mundy, c’mon, you can think of something, anything to make you hard, c’mon... 

A knock on the window interrupted him and made his eyes snap open. Mundy turned to see what it was. He pulled the window down and a woman was standing there. She was heavily made up. She raised her arm to cling on to the window and he realised it was naked all up to her chest where thin black laces held her sequin black top. 

“Wanna have a good time there?” She raised feline eyes to him, her eyelashes were long and the eyeliner around them made them stand out even more on her white cheeks. “It’s 50 bucks a start, we can negotiate if you want more…” Her index traced his cheek. 

“What’s yer name?” He asked. and the lady’s eyebrows jumped. She was used to the odd requests here and there but that was a first. 

“Anythin’ you want, bad boy…” She tapped the back of his hand, which was resting on the open window, with her long nails. She was used to the odd requests here and there but a name fetish was a first. 

“Y’know what I want?” He answered.

“Tell me…” She didn’t want to believe that he was talking in such a serious tone of voice. But sometimes, her clients did so to feel better with themselves. The lady isn’t really a prostitute if you don’t treat her like one, is she?

“Tell you what, I’ll pay you double what you make in one night if you manage to do somethin’ for me.”

Her eyes lit up. 

“Alright?” She smirked, confident in herself. 

“Follow me. I got a bunk in the back.” He closed the window and hopped off the van to lead her to the back.

“Huh-huh.” She said, watching him more closely and she thought she would not only earn a lot but also have herself a good time. The man was exotic, she could hear it in his accent, and he wasn’t half as ugly as some of her past clients were. He was tall, and maybe it was only the street light doing him some favours but he looked good. Nah, that was one hell of a good catch. 

As they hopped in, Mundy kicked his boots away and removed his jacket that he let flop on the floor.

“So, honey, what’s it you want?”

“I don’t care how you do it, but if someone knows how to do it, it has to be you.”

She walked to him and put her hands on his chest, splaying them and feeling him up from above his jumper. 

“Alright, but you gotta tell me what we’ll be doin’ tonight, hm?”

Mundy took a deep breath. 

“Get me hard.” He said in one go. The lady’s eyebrows jumped. 

“Is that it?” Her hands stopped stroking him sharp. He didn’t dare look her in the eye and simply nodded. “And you’re gonna pay me all I’m earnin’ in one night just for that? Talk about easy money…”

“D’you want me on the bed?” He cut her sarcasm.

“Yeah, climb up there, handsome, I’ll just get comfy myself, ok?”

Mundy turned and as he climbed up the bed she gave his backside a sharp smack. He gritted his teeth and froze for a second. 

“C’mon, baby, up you go…!” 

He lay on the bed, on his back and saw her climbing on top of him. She was now only wearing a bra and panties, white laced. She dived in his neck and started kissing him. Mundy closed his eyes and hissed. 

“I know my lips are cold but give them a second and you’ll burn, sweet baby…”

It was not the cold that had made Mundy hiss. He frowned and let her do it.  She went for his lips but soon moved on as he did not put a single bit of effort into reciprocating anything, or even touch her. She stripped him of his clothes layer after layer and each time, she took her time nibbling at the new bit of unveiled skin, kissing, licking and even biting. She had a go at his lean chest, his nipples, his belly. When all that remained was his underwear, she bit it with her teeth and pulled it down.

“Oh, quite long, huh? Goes with how tall you are, I s’ppose… Can’t wait to see how big it really gets...” She snickered and took it between her hands. It was of course not hard yet… 

She bent down and Mundy watched as she opened her mouth, her lips pouting in anticipation and her tongue poking out ever so slightly.

“Stop.” He said and she froze. 

“What?”

“What’s yer name?” He asked as he sat back up, pushing her gently away. 

“Katy, why?”

“What d’you make in one night?” He slipped out of the bunk bed and grabbed his clothes that he started putting back on. 

“Half a thousand bucks.” 

Mundy raised his eyes to her as she was coming down the bed. He knew she was probably lying, yet he took his wallet out of his pocket. 

“I have a hundred on me. Walk with me to the nearest cash machine and I’ll give you the rest.”

“Oh, uh, alright…”

They put their clothes back up in an awkward silence and when both were ready, they exited the van. She led the way to a cash machine where Mundy held his word. 

“Here, that’s the four hundred more I owed ya. G’night.”

“Hey.” She stopped him as he was turning away.

“Mh?”

“I don’t know what's up with you but uh… I hope you’ll get around it.”

“Yeah.” He put his hands in his pockets and crossed the road to the parking lot to get back inside his haven of safety. 

“God damn it.” He said when he sat back in his van. “God bloody damn it!” He shouted and hit his steering wheel with both his open hands. “Why…?” 

Tears came to his eyes as the words started forming in his foggy mind. 

“I don’t like them… I don’t even want them… Why am I weird like that…?” He bent forward and hid his face in his arms, headbutting the steering wheel. 

As the rain started pouring outside again, so it did inside the van.

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy

[super-unpredictable98]

First Thing in the Morning (Tales From the Original Timeline)

Fandom: Misfits Pairing: Nathan x Lydia (OC - Hard Candy’ verse) Word Count: 1k Warning: Strong language, a little angst a/n: I got sad and wrote this, I guess that’s basically it lol

(Masterlist)

"Did he really say that?" Nathan laughed through the phone, I could almost see the smile tugging at his lips.

"Yeah, I wanted to punch myself in the face, I can't believe I shagged that idiot."

"Honestly, me neither, Lollipop..." he said slightly more seriously. "But I'm glad you managed to break up with him, I never liked this twat anyway."

"So, do you wanna get ice cream tomorrow to celebrate another one of my amazing break-ups?" I leaned against the window, watching the stars like rhinestones decorating a black veil.

"I wish, but I can't," Nathan huffed. "I gotta go do this parents' thing at Junior's school. Marnie isn't feelin' well, she's been sick all day."

"Ooooh, am I gonna have another baby to take care of?" I tried to sound cheerful, but it was pretty obvious there was sadness lurking in my voice.

"Nah, one is more than enough! Marnie gave herself salmonella when she tried medium rare chicken yesterday... Did you know you can't eat medium rare chicken?"

"Wow, Nathan, I'm pretty sure you are the only two people who didn't know that," I chuckled. "But um... Maybe Friday? Bring Junior too."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll pick you up," he yawned. "I should probably go to bed."

"Already?" I nearly whispered.

"It's almost four," Nathan mocked. "I used to stay up all night, but turns out havin' a kid makes you very very tired. Who would've thought?"

"Shit, I didn't realize it was so late, I'm sorry..."

"It's okay, Lollipop, I didn't notice either."

"Well, good night then."

"Good night, I'll send a message first thing in the mornin'... After I take a piss, then I'll text."

"Sounds good," I grinned. "See you."

"See ya."

When Nathan hung up, I felt tears rolling down my cheeks, tears I didn't even know I was holding. I felt so empty, like someone just ripped part of me away. A weird feeling of losing something I never had, after all, he was sleeping next to her, not me, never was me, never would be me.

I tried desperately to go to sleep, but I couldn't. So I got my notebook and started writing those feelings down, I just had to get it out somehow and there was absolutely no one I could talk to, not even my brother, the one I usually get advice from.

That was the last time I ever wrote a song because it felt so personal, I didn't want anyone to hear it, ever. How could I ever write something from my heart and show it to everyone? Well, since I'm telling you this story I might as well show you the song... It's not like I have much to hide at this point. Just remember, I was 17, so don't judge me too harshly, I know I'm no lyrical genius.

"I'm getting tired, can barely speak anymore First thing in the morning, I will talk to you” That's what you said last night at almost four And for some reason, my tears blurred my view Why does my world feel empty when you're away? Why do we talk so much and I can't find the words to say Nate, I wanna be a part of your story Any chance that I'm the one you think about at night? I know that you don't need me, don't be sorry But when my darkest hour comes, you bring me light A mystery I can't quite crack The lack of you always leaves me mourning Just promise me you will come back Tomorrow, first thing in the morning"

"Good morning, sunshine, it's time to rise and sh... Blossom? Did you sleep at all?" my dad came through the door around seven.

"Sorry, I couldn't," my face was all messed up, my eyes were red and puffy, I was really a sight to see.

"Were you sick, darling?" he sat next to me and put his hand gently on my forehead to check my temperature. "You look as pale as a ghost, why didn't you wake me or mum up?"

"I'm not sick, just... don't feel that great."

"Oh," he wrapped one arm around me with a knowing melancholic smile. "The good old broken heart, I suppose? I remember getting my heart broken at least once a month when I was your age."

"Yeah," I sighed, leaning against him. "There's nothing worse than finding out you're not as special to someone as you thought, as they are to you."

"That's bollocks, you are the most special girl I've ever met! Who's the arsehole? I should kill him for making my baby cry."

"Dad! I'm not a baby!" I finally laughed. "I'm almost an adult!"

"Doesn't matter, just yesterday I was changing your diapers, you're a baby."

"Is Simon a baby too?"

"Of course! Always and forever."

"Well, it's a secret, the guy, he doesn't even know."

"Charles! Blossom! Time for school!" mum's voice echoed around the house, making my head hurt before she came into the room like a hurricane. "Blossom! You should be ready by now! Where's your uniform?"

"She's not feeling so great today, love, maybe she shouldn't go to school," dad grimaced.

"What happened?" she asked, doing the same thing to measure my temperature.

"She's hurting a bit, I think she just needs some sleep, right, Blossom?" he looked down at me.

"Yeah, I'm really tired."

"Okay, I'm going to work then, if anything happens..."

"I'll be here, don't worry," dad assured.

"Bye," mum waved on her way out, she was always excited in the morning to go to work, she had a lot of flaws, but it was heartwarming how much she loves what she does.

"Why don't you get some sleep, then I'll give your brother a call, we can all watch a movie later, alright?" he whispered, covering me with a blanket.

"Sounds good. Thank you, dad," I gave him a sleepy smile as he left.

Before I fell asleep, I grabbed my phone to set an alarm, but there was an audio  waiting for me:

"Hey there, Lollipop, told ya... First thing in the mornin'. So, I'm drivin' Marnie to the doctor in a bit, any chance you could drop by and help me with some cupcakes or whatever for Junior's thing at school? I don't wanna get any more people sick. Anyway, let me know, catch you later."

His voice made my heart race, I immediately texted back (like an idiot, I know, but that's what I am): Hey, Nats! Sure thing, I'll come by later.

Tag List: @elliethesuperfruitlover @firstpersonnarrator @nightingale-rose @misskittysmagicportal

#misfits fanfic #misfits imagine #misfits nathan #misfits #misfits tv #nathan young #nathan young x oc #hard candy #imagine #fanfic #one shot

[onomonopetabread]

Declawing the Cat - Chapter 3

(Sorry it took so long guys, between testing and homework and executive functioning, I could NOT get this done. Anyways,

“Father, do I have to go?” Adrien asked for the hundredth time.

“Of course Adrien. I refuse to go on a business trip as important as this one without you. You’re my son.”

Felix rolled his eyes. He and his mother were visiting the two bachelors (against his actual will, obviously). Everyone in the room knew the real reason why Adrien had to go; he was the face of the brand, and it was common fashion knowledge that to go to such a high-ranking event without your leading model would get you shunned and cancelled. ‘You’re my son’ EVERYONE’S arse.

It was obvious that Adrien was all too aware of this fact, because he couldn’t seem to run out of excuses for why he couldn’t go.

Well, he could also not wish to go because of how brain-numbingly boring the whole affair is, and honestly, who could blame him? This year’s Annual Pre-Junior’s Fashion Competition Assembly was being held in Sydney, and all of the biggest names in the industry were going to attend. The assembly takes place over the course of two. Entire. Months. For what, not even the attendees know. Felix swears, these designers were as mad as a bag of ferrets.

I mean, if you’re into that sort of thing, like Miss I’m-all-that Ginger Breadhouse, you’d probably be in Seventh Heaven there, but if you were, how do you say, normal, you’d sell your soul to be another else. In fact, Felix could almost bet Chat Noir’s Miraculous that Adrien would sign that demonic contract in a heartbeat if that were an option.

“But Father, what about school? I’ll miss so much instruction-”

“Natalie will tutor you, just like she did before you attended that … institution.”

“And my fencing practice? Surely, you wouldn’t want me to miss out on those.”

“Adrien, are you suggesting that they don’t have fencing areas in Sydney?”

“No, I’m just saying that fencing without Kagami wouldn’t be the same…”

“Well, you aren’t going to be fencing with her forever, so think of this as a sample for the future. Now, no more of this arguing, Adrien. You are going to the Assembly and that’s final. Have I made myself clear?”

Adrien’s shoulders slumped in defeat and for a heartbeat, Felix felt sympathetic. “Yes, Father.”

“Good, now go pack some clothes you will need for the weeks. We won’t be at the events the entire time, so I will permit you to bring some of your own wardrobe. Please remember we will be there for a long time, so pack accordingly.”

And with that, they were all dismissed. Adrien trugged upstairs looking particularly peeved. He invited Felix to come with him, and Felix agreed, but only to keep up appearances. If he knew any better, Felix would have sworn that he heard him talking to someone on the way up, but he decided to ignore it; he couldn’t be bothered to guess what weird habits his wanker of a cousin had.

Once they got to Adrien’s room, Felix sat himself down at the piano while Adrien took out a suitcase from his closet and started choosing some informal clothing for when they were just doing day-to-day activities.

“Can you believe that he’s making me go, Felix?”

“Yes, I can believe it.”

“AND we have to leave tomorrow! I won’t even get the chance to say goodbye to our friends.

“Not to worry, cousin dearest. I’ll tell them for you. Anyways, don’t look at this trip as a burden, look at it as a new opportunity. You can gather information and resources for your friend Marinette.”

Adrien’s face brightened at the mention of his friend and Felix rolled his eyes when his back was turned. He swears, all it takes to cheer him up was to be reminded that Pigtails was alive and well somewhere on the planet.

“You’re right, Felix! This way I can help her pursue her dreams! I can’t wait until we get back to tell her everything I’ve learned about the industry.”

“...Can’t you just text or call her?”

“You mean with my phone?”

“No Adrien, I mean with a plastic banana you can buy at the baby store. Yes I mean your phone!”

Adrien paused in the middle of folding a t-shirt and packing it into a suitcase. “I didn’t tell you? Father confiscated it for ‘my own good’. He thinks I spend too much time around my friends and not enough time focusing on my studies, so it’s with him for the time being.”

Well, there goes Felix’s plan to pull a quick cell prank before Adrien leaves. “Adrien Bartholomew Agreste, is that resent I hear in your voice?”

“Yes, it is. I’m tired of responsibilities and having people depend on me every second that I breathe. That’s why I wanted to go to school in the first place; it gives me eight hours of non-Agreste related freedom.”

Felix narrowed his eyes. What did this boy know about responsibilities? All he had to do was play a keyboard, wave a stick around, and look pretty for pictures. Felix couldn’t understand how a job like that could burden someone so badly.

“Goodness, Adrien. You make it sound as though Uncle asks you to carry the weight of the entire ever-loving world on your shoulders.”

Adrien sighed. “That’s just how I feel, sometimes. Anyways, I think these are all of the casual clothing Father will let me take with me. Maybe if I’m lucky, he might not see the video game I hid under them all.”

The next day was a Saturday, so Felix the delivery boy was going to have to give the mega-twits the message at a later time. Today, it was all about acting as emotional as he could for the departure of his Cousin & Co. gabriel thought it would be a good idea for Felix and his mother to stop by the mansion every once in a while to make sure everything was all right, accounted for, and in the case of the house plants, watered. This was news to Felix. He doubted his uncle was even a living being, let alone the type of person to have plants in his home. Right now, they were standing next to the family limo. Natalie and gabriel were talking to Ape Man about transportation in Australia.

“Oh, darling Adrien, I’m so sad to see you go. We only just now got here, and you’re leaving. Why must the fates keep up apart?”

“It’s alright, Aunt Amilie. We’ll be back before you even realize we’re gone.”

“We? Oh, I wasn’t talking about your father, dear. I wouldn’t mind some time away from him. Anyways, I hope you have the best time in Australia. Bring something back for me, will you? I’ve always wanted to get a real boomerang, ever since I was a young girl.”

“I’ll be sure to get you the best boomerang in the country, Aunt A. What about you Felix? Do you want me to get you anything?”

Felix, who was standing some ways behind the others, pretended to ponder it over. “Bring me a friendship bracelet.”

“...A friendship bracelet?”

“If you can’t find one it’s okay I really don’t mind-”

“No, I’ll get you a bracelet. I was only surprised because you aren’t really the type to want one.”

He’s right- there was no way on Good Green Earth would he want some dingly little arts and crafts project. There also wasn’t any way that maybe he wanted his cousin thinking about him during his trip, that he wanted to envision Adrien getting something for him. Don’t even think about considering that Felix felt bad for him, dealing with the devil himself in a new place and wanting to give him something to do. Nope. Not a chance. Felix simply thought that Adrien would look hilarious running around Australia looking for beads and twine.

“...Just make sure you make me a good one, alright?”

Adrien smiled as though he could read right into Felix’s mind, and of course he had to look completely handsome in doing so. Stupid model. They practically had the same face and somehow Felix ended up looking like the off-brand knockoff.

“Adrien, we have to go now. The plane leaves in five hours,” gabriel said, entering the car.

“Why do we need to leave so soon?”

“So that I can buy fabrics with threads, gather all of my designs, double check with Natalie that the suite is still booked for us-”

“Alright, Father. I understand. Well, bye Felix. I’ll miss you.”

With that, he entered the limousine and the four of them drove away.

“Come Felix. Let’s go check the house for anything they might have accidentally left behind. We wouldn’t want them to leave something important,” said Amilie, still a little teary-eyed over the loss of her precious little baby nephew. She couldn’t stand the idea of being away from him for so long, even though his look-alike (her own bloody son) was right in front of her. Of course, Felix wasn’t bitter! Why wouldn’t ever say such a thing?

“Yes, Mother. Would you like me to check Adrien’s room?”

“Please, dear. Oh, look at you, watching over your cousin! And to think you said you wouldn’t like him!”

It was as though his mother never met him. Couldn’t she see that he was just trying to gain some sort of upper hand against Mr. Perfect or to uncover a secret of his? On the sunny side, at least he knows his facade is effective. He was beginning to worry that someone other than Blue-Eyed Phoenix Wright would figure him out.

Felix pushed open the door of Adrien’s room and immediately began to look around and turn things over. He was being extremely careful to make sure that everything he touched was put back in the place he got it from. After looking through his closet and library, however, he was disappointed to find that Adrien was actually as innocent as he seemed (and acted). In fact, the worst thing he could find was a disturbing amount of Ladybug memoria. It was a pity, really. Felix hadn’t blackmailed anyone in a long time, and he was beginning to get antsy. He turned around and headed out.

“Adrien, is that you? I thought you said you weren’t going to come back for another two months.”

Felix did a complete 180 and faced the source of the voice, which seemed to be some sort of floating cat-thing. It looked like a deer in headlights.

“You aren’t Adrien. Wait, are you okay, you seem to be swaying-?”

The thing was right; he was feeling woozy, and it didn’t take him that long to hit the floor, having fainted. The last thing he heard was the talking cat muttering,

“Shit.”

@myazael @2confused-2doanything @thecaptainthunder @thatonecroc @symwinter @mermaidreject @pink-and-bunny @kyrakitesong @your-number-one-second-choice @kayla0binow @hansa-12 @fc-studios @nom-the-king @thetrashypanda423 @chez-pezeater @supertomboyprincess @alyceeve @ceres-zephyr @swiftie-miraculer13 @justafanwarrior @marinettepotterandplagg @starlightshield @sandraf0612

#declawing the cat #chapter 3 #felix graham de vanily #felix x marinette #marinette x felix #marinette dupain cheng #marinette #fanfiction by me #fanfiction #felix #enemies to lovers

[thelittlestcheshire]

even if you have to cry, don't let your crown fall

a love letter to luxor’s ches elswood

Well, it’s finally time that I feel ready to post this, and while I’m aware it may be bittersweet with my upcoming departure, I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Today I present to you a three hour Ches playlist, divided into sections and covering her entire time at Luxor, from when I first picked her up in June of 2019 all the way to now. There’s quite a few plot references, and small (and not as small) references to other muses throughout, especially when it comes to Elliot, so keep an eye out for those as well!

I’d like to thank Lex for giving me the idea to make these, and her support throughout the process because without her, these playlists wouldn’t even exist. And thank you to everyone who has gone on this journey with us, while I’m sorry I need to dip out early after this event to focus on my health, I love y’all so much.

The standard Ches tws apply (poor mental health, alcoholism, etc etc), and anything I think may be a bit abnormal / section exclusive is noted on the sections.

twist me like a key, then you open the lock | pre-luxor:

the section of time before I played Ches at Luxor, very James heavy. additional tws: Death (Sign of the Times), Toxic relationships (nothing explicit tho)

Sign of the Times (Jasmine Thompson) [ Remember everything will be alright. We can meet again somewhere, somewhere far away from here. ] // Sweet Ophelia (Zella Day) [ Singing like it's a full moon, careless now that he has you. Turns you on to the right songs, promises that you're hooked on. ] // Couple of Kids (Maggie Lindemann) [ Now I'm fallin' heavily, recklessly, trying not to lose my sensibility; but gravity, it pulls me into you. ] // Glowstick (Sofia Karlberg) [ You play me like a line-up; long con, you make me wise up. ] // Crying in the Club (Camila Cabello) [ Ain't no crying in the club, hey, hey, let the beat carry away, your tears as they fall, baby. Ain't no crying in the club, hey, hey, with a little faith, your tears turn to ecstasy. ] // Ember (Katherine McNamara) [ Reignite; you lost your grip on me, and now I blaze wild and free. ]

nobody shows up unless i'm paying, have a drink on me cheers to the failing | summer & fall 2019:

the first time I was at Luxor playing ches, from June - October 2019

7 rings (Ariana Grande) [ Been through some bad shit, I should be a sad bitch. Who woulda thought it'd turn me to a savage? ] // I'm a Mess (Bebe Rexha) [ “It's gonna be a good, good life;” that's what my therapists say. ] // OMG (Little Mix) [ Oh my gosh, I did it again. He said I broke his heart, it keeps happening. ] // Only Angel (Harry Styles) [ Couldn't take you home to mother in a skirt that short, but I think that's what I like about it. ] // LA Devotee (Panic! At The Disco) [ Drinking white wine in the blushing light, just another LA Devotee. ] // Woman Like Me (Little Mix feat. Nicki Minaj) [ I made a few mistakes, I regret it nightly. I broke a couple hearts that I wear on my sleeve. ]

all of this emptiness i've been sharing, it never comes when i want it to | winter 2019:

the period of time Ches went home to be with her family and was away from luxor additional tws: vomiting (Habits (Stay High))

Carmen (Lana Del Rey) [ Darlin’, darlin’, doesn't have a problem lyin’ to herself ‘cause her liquor’s top shelf ] // How You Remind Me (Avril Lavigne) [ And I've been wrong, I've been down, been to the bottom of every bottle. These five words in my head scream, "Are we havin' fun yet?" ] // Playing God (Paramore) [ This is the last second chance (I'll point you to the mirror). I'm half as good as it gets (I'll point you to the mirror). I'm on both sides of the fence (I'll point you to the mirror). Without a hint of regret, I'll hold you to it ] // Habits {Stay High} (Tove Lo) [ Staying in my play pretend, where the fun ain't got no end. Oh, can't go home alone again, need someone to numb the pain. ] // Bedroom Window (The Pretty Reckless) [ As I look out of my bedroom window; is it all real or just fantasy? I have lost touch with what makes me human, I have lost touch with reality. ] // Impossible Year (Panic! At The Disco) [ There's no sunshine, this impossible year; only black days and sky grey and clouds full of fear. ]

i wouldn't say you got the best of me, i'd say you got me somewhere in between | spring 2020:

Ches’s return to Luxor, and the months following leading up to her mass text about Leo’s dad following the Lake Bash

3 O'Clock Things (AJR) [ Would you go running if you saw the real me? Maybe you'd love 'em, yeah, maybe you'd feel me. ] // Wild Heart (Bleachers) [ Well, everything has changed and now I can't tell what matters. I will find any way to your wild heart. ] // Rise (Katy Perry) [ When the fire's at my feet again and the vultures all start circling. They're whispering, “you're out of time.” But still, I rise. ] // Don't Stop Me Now (Queen) [ I'm a rocket ship on my way to Mars on a collision course. I am a satellite, I'm out of control. ] // Princesses Don't Cry (CARYS) [ Girls, so pretty and poised and soft to the touch, but God made me rough. Girls, so heavy the crown, they carry it tall, but it's weighing me down. ] // Save Rock And Roll (Fall Out Boy feat. Elton John) [ You are what you love, not who loves you. In a world full of the word 'yes', I'm here to scream... no, no (no, no). ] // Making a Monster out of Me (Katherine McNamara) [ And I don't know how to recollect the morals that I always did possess. Don't know where its leading me. ] // We Don't Have To Dance (Andy Black) [ You're never gonna get it, I'm a hazard to myself. I'll break it to you easy. This is hell, this is hell. ]

tonight it's alright, i can see the tunnel at the end of these lights | summer 2020:

summer camp and the months leading up to a new school year

Night Owls Early Birds (Foxes) [ A wild fire inside me burns. Why do I look like I'm wear for worse? Save me, save me, go underneath the ground. ] // Too Much (Carly Rae Jepsen) [ When I party, then I party too much. When I feel it, then I feel it too much. When I'm thinking, then I'm thinking too much. When I'm drinking, then I'm drinking too much. ] // Royal Blue (Alberto Rosende) [ My regrets are a shade around my neck I know. It's torturous, and there's a burden that I can't let go. ] // Who You Selling For (The Pretty Reckless) [ And when Roger showed me I was building a wall. I've been waiting a long time, waiting a long time, waiting a long time, waiting for it to fall. ] // Heavy (Linkin Park feat. Kiiara) [ You say that I'm paranoid, but I’m pretty sure the world is out to get me. It’s not like I make the choice to let my mind stay so fucking messy. ] // The Archer (Taylor Swift) [ I've been the archer, I've been the prey; screaming, “who could ever leave me,” darling. But who could stay? ] // Everybody Lost Somebody (Bleachers) [ And there's a reason I wake up alone in strange places, a reason I see myself in a million faces, a reason I can't stop it all from changing. So come on, motherfucker, you survive, you gotta give yourself a break. ]

no cameras catch my muffled cries. i counted days, i counted miles | fall and winter 2020(/21):

a new school year, from the start of the semester right until the aftermath of the kings’ party

So It Goes (Guards) [ I don't know who I am but I do know who I'm not. I'm just looking for a friend, I'm still searching for the plot. ] // Wasabi (Little Mix) [ Love to hate me, praise me, shame me; either way, you talk about me. ] // Think Before I Talk (Astrid S) [ Maybe I should think before I talk; I get emotional and words come out all wrong. Sometimes I'm more honest than I want. ] // Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince (Taylor Swift) [ No cameras catch my muffled cries. I counted days, I counted miles to see you there, to see you there. And now the storm is coming, but... ] // Sober Up (AJR feat. Rivers Cuomo) [ Won't you help me sober up? Growin' up, it made me numb, and I wanna feel somethin' again. ] // The Show Must Go On (Queen) [ Empty spaces, what are we living for? Abandoned places, I guess we know the score, on and on. Does anybody know what we are looking for? ] // Waiting For A Friend (The Pretty Reckless) [ My head is like a prison cell, I'm all by myself. I'm waiting for my friend to come and break me out. ] // Sober (Demi Lovato) [ I'm sorry that I'm here again, I promise I'll get help. It wasn't my intention, I'm sorry to myself. ] // Eight (Sleeping At Last) [ I'm just a kid who grew up scared enough to hold the door shut, and bury my innocence. But here's a map, here's a shovel, here's my Achilles' heel. ]

i got this handled, i don't need rescuing | spring and early summer 2021:

ches’s progress from the end of march until now

The Man (Taylor Swift) [ I’m so sick of running as fast as I can, wondering if I'd get there quicker if I was a man. And I'm so sick of them coming at me again, 'cause if I was a man, then I'd be the man. ] // Princess (FLETCHER) [ But we're all going through it, so why do we do it? Why do we hide? ] // Humpty Dumpty (AJR) [ If I can't breathe, then you can't see, but aren't you excited that I'm giving you the best me? ] // My Mistake (Gabrielle Aplin) [ Am I jaded? Am I meant to feel this way?  I'm a loser, getting beat by my own game. But if I falter, well, at least it was my mistake. ] // The Climb (Miley Cyrus) [ The struggles I'm facing, the chances I'm taking; sometimes might knock me down, but no, I'm not breaking. ] // breathin (Ariana Grande) [ Some days, things just take way too much of my energy. I look up and the whole room's spinning. You take my cares away. ] // Clean (Taylor Swift) [ Ten months sober, I must admit just because you're clean, don't mean you don't miss it. Ten months older, I won't give in, now that I'm clean, I'm never gonna risk it. ] // Not a Pop Song (Little Mix) [ A hamster on a wheel that's how it feels tryna be real. These unrealistic expectations said we'll make it if we fake it. ] // Queen (Loren Gray) [ Eyes on me like I'm a prize but you better recognize I'm not your angel 'cause I belong to me. ] // The Cure (Little Mix) [ This happiness was always inside me but Lord, it took a minute to find me. ]

#musings ( playlists ) #all of my heroes died all alone ( musings ) #death tw #abuse tw #alcoholism tw #alcohol tw #vomit tw #vomiting tw #vomit mention tw

[iwillbeinmynest]

The Monte Carlo Job - Steve x Reader(f)   Chapter 2

Authors Notes: Here comes Part 2 Y'all! I hope you are enjoying this series. I know it came out of nowhere but I was feeling sad and wanted to just post something so I started a new series, even though I haven’t finished my last one... Anywayyysss, Have some more Steve!

Word Count: 1.8k

Notes/Warnings: Your typical action/MI type trope. There is glitz and glam as well as running for your life and fighting to stay alive. Bad guys and allies, guns and galas. Mentions of death, one sleazy and creepy guy who makes one too many passes, use of guns, fighting, drinking, being framed for murder and clearing your name. It’s a wild ride folks!

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

Chapter 2

Y/N and Steve walked hand in hand back to the main floor of the museum where the actual Gala was being held.

The grand room was littered with tall tables and waiters with trays of glasses. There was a quartet in the back corner playing classical music and a small stage to the right with a lone microphone on it.

Bucky waved at them through the crowd and caught Steve’s eye.

“There you two are.” Nat smiled when they reached the table. “What were you up to, huh?”

Y/N shook her head. “Not what you think, we actually looked at the art.”

“Of course you were,” Bucky said. “Cause Stevie, here, wouldn’t dare do anything scandalous.”

“I would.” Steve defended himself. “I just happen to know the guy in charge of security and I know that all of the cameras are running.”

They chuckled.

“So,” Y/N looked around the room. “Who’s the target?”

Steve raised his brows as he scanned the floor. “Not sure yet. I recognize a few faces so I’ll have to make my rounds but I’ll let you know when I need a trophy on my arm to close a deal.”

Y/N smacked his arm and Nat and Bucky laughed.

“Please,” Y/N laughed, “If anything, you’re the trophy in this relationship.”

“She’s right.” Nat gracefully snatched two glasses of champagne from a passing tray. Bucky did the same. “You should hear the dirty things the women at our spin class say when you pick us up every thursday.”

“Excuse me?” Steve’s eyes widened.

Y/N laughed. “Oh come on, sweetheart. Girls will be girls, right?”

Nat held up her glass for a toast, “Here’s to another fantastic evening together. May we land a new client or have a blast tryin’.”

“Cheers!” They all raised their glasses.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Y/N and Nat usually stuck together and tonight was no different. They were standing a few tables over speaking with what Steve could only presume were other wives and girlfriends.

Steve and Bucky had been making their rounds, speaking with previous clients and making new acquaintances. These men were the richest of the rich, and that’s coming from Steve who lives beyond comfortably. The men tried to talk to Steve and Bucky about the military and people they knew that served.

It took Steve all he had not to roll his eyes, clearly these men had never seen war and the fact that they talked as though they had was infuriating.

“So, I say to the man,” A gentleman in an ascot smiled and waved his cigar around. “Either you pay me or I’ll send Howard!”

The other men around them laughed, Bucky and Steve smiled politely but shared a look.

“Well said, John.” Steve set a hand to the man’s back. “Excuse us.”

Both he and Bucky nodded and walked away from the table.

“I swear, Steve,” Bucky clenched his jaw and tried to take a subtle deep breath. “I don’t know why you make me come to these things.”

“I know,” Steve shook his head as they headed for Y/N and Nat. “But if I have to suffer, I’m not doing it alone.”

“I thought that’s why Y/N is here?”

“And make her listen to that crap, no way. I bring her so I can see her dolled up like that.” He nodded at his wife.

“We got lucky didn’t we?” Bucky watched Nat run her ring finger around the brim of her whiskey glass. She looked over and gave him a wink.

“That’s an understatement.” Steve smiled when Y/N followed Nat’s gaze and smiled at Steve.

Y/N and Nat excused themselves from the group of women and walked arm in arm to their husbands.

“You boys havin’ fun, yet?” Nat asked as she let go of Y/N and leaned into Bucky’s chest.

“Not at all.” He kissed the top of her head.

“How about you?” Steve asked Y/N.

She shrugged her shoulders, “Those women don’t know anything about what their husbands or boyfriends do. They’re just having a bragging party.”

“I wasn’t talking about prospective clients, babe, but I appreciate that your mind is on the company.”

Y/N smiled. “Well, you’re really gonna wish we’d landed one when you see the receipt for this dress.”

Steve closed his eyes and chuckled.

“Your girl has expensive taste.” Bucky teased his best friend.

“Nat picked it out.” Y/N clarified.

Both Steve and Bucky nodded.

“Now, see,” Steve grinned. “That makes more sense.”

Steve leaned down and kissed the side of Y/N’s head. “You ready to call it a night?”

“Yeah,” She smiled up at him. “I am.”

“Okay, then.” Steve held out his elbow and she wrapped her hand around it. “Shall we?”

As the two couples were making their way towards the exit, a man stepped out in front of them.

“Are you Mr. Rogers of Stealth Security?” The man asked. His Russian accent slowed his words but he spoke english well.

Steve held out a hand and the man took it in a firm shake. “I am. Have we met?”

“I’m afraid not.” The man straightened his spine and leaned his head back slightly. “My name is Petrov Lebedev and your reputation precedes you.” he grinned.

Steve raised his brows and lowered his arm, taking Y/N’s hand in his and squeezing it as an apology for staying longer. “Does it?”

“Yes. I have heard that you offer exceptional service in the matter of private security.”

A woman appeared at Petrov’s back. Y/N smiled at her but, the woman simply looked Y/N up and down then at Petrov.

Y/N was shocked at her blatant rudeness but kept quiet.

Beside her was another man, who could only be described as seedy. He was shorter than Steve but just as fit. His beard was stubbly and seemed to have a few scars in it where the hair no longer grew. He also eyed Y/N but in a way that made her squirm.

Steve didn’t miss that. He shifted his weight to land mostly in front of Y/N. “And who escorts you tonight?” Steve asked with very little patience, but he covered it with politeness to Petrov.

Petrov looked over and then back to Steve. “This is Sacha, my right hand and partner. And this,” He put an arm around the woman’s waist, tugging her forward. “Is Katryana.”

Steve nodded but didn’t address them. He turned to Bucky. “This is my partner, Bucky, and his wife, Natasha. And this,” he eyed Sacha hard, “Is my wife.”

Y/N straightened and tipped her head up. “Nice to meet you.” She made sure to only say that to Petrov, who hadn’t offended her, yet.

Petrov smiled then turned his attention to Steve. “I have an event coming up in three weeks in Monte Carlo and I am looking for a full team to escort myself, Sacha and Katryana around. I’m looking for everything from bodyguards to security during transportation and whatnot for the two days that we are there.”

Steve inhaled to speak but Petrov cut him off. “Money is no object and I assure you I can pay whatever you ask. Please, I want the best of the best and I have been promised that that is you.”

Steve recognized the touch of flattery but didn’t care for it.

“Well, how about I take your card and I will have my secretary check our schedule and see what we can come up with?” Steve offered. No way was he about to accept on the spot.

“Of course, of course,” Petrov smiled. “I do have one additional request though, which I understand might make a difference on the bill.”

Steve smiled and waited.

“I would like to see you there, personally. You can even bring your wife and make a trip of it, yes?”

Steve took a deep breath to unclinch his jaw and grinned. “We will consider it, schedule pending, of course.”

“Yes, of course.” Petrov pulled a card from the inside pocket of his coat. “I look forward to working with you.”

“Likewise,” Steve took it and slid it into his pocket without a glance. “Have a good evening.”

Steve took Y/N’s hand and escorted her to the foyer where all four of them collected their coats.

“I don’t like him, Steven.” Y/N said with a sigh. It was rare that she spoke out against a client but there was something about Sacha that she absolutely did not like.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He stood behind her as a shield, separating her from the ballroom, “We can discuss it on Monday. Forget about him for now.” He took her hand and kissed her palm.

Bucky huffed. “If Sacha had looked at Nat that way, I’d have laid him out right there.”

Steve snapped to Bucky and glared at him, “You think I didn’t want to?”

Bucky swallowed and took a breath. He held the door open for Nat and then Y/N and Steve. “I didn’t mean it like that. I know you would, I just-”

Nat put her hand on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. “Let it go, baby.” She cooed and kissed him quickly.

Steve walked away to pay the valet. Y/N walked half way and waited for him.

“I’m sorry.” Y/N said sincerely when the valet ran off to bring the car around.

Steve looked at her curiously, his frustration fading slightly, “For what?”

She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. “All of that. Sacha, Petrov, Bucky. And you know he didn’t mean it like that, right? He was just as heated as you.”

“I really doubt that.” Steve grumbled.

“Steve,” She said his name with a tone that urged for his attention. He looked down at her. “I’m fine. Totally over it. He didn’t touch me, everything is fine.”

“He didn’t have to touch you, did you see-”

Bucky passed with Nat to retrieve their car and Steve inhaled sharply.

Just then the valet returned and handed the keys to Steve.

Y/N took his hands. “He loves you, and me. He just talks too much.” She offered a small smile.

Steve nodded. “Yeah, I know.” He fiddled with the keys to his Tesla.

“Don’t be mad at Bucky for something you would have done if the situation was reversed.” Y/N added.

Steve nodded then pulled Y/N into a tight hug, kissing the crown of her head. “I hate it when you do that.”

“Do what?” She looked up at him.

He leaned down, close enough to kiss her. “Fix everything.” He smiled against her mouth and kissed her softly.

Bucky and Nat approached calmly.

Y/N hugged Nat and Steve and Bucky clasped arms in a firm shake. Steve nodded to Bucky and Bucky nodded back.

“Have a good night.” Y/N said to Nat with a kiss to the cheek.

“We will, you too.” She smiled. Both of them were relieved to see the balance restored between their husbands.

Steve waved to Bucky as they walked off then turned to open the door for Y/N. She stopped close against him before she sat down into the car. “Thanks for protecting me.” She patted his chest.

He took her hand and held it over his heart, “Always.”

* * * * * * *

Forever Tags:

@cassiopeiassky

​ @sgtbxckybxrnes

​@itsanerdlife

​ @beccaanne814

​ @tanelle83

​ @artemis521

​@elaacreditava

​ @feelmyroarrrr

​@palaiasaurus64

​ @the-stuttering-kiwi

​@destiel-artemis

​ @sexyvixen7

​@girl-next-door-writes

​ @coolest-avenger

​@xoxabs88xox

​ @youclickedthislink

​@also-fangirlinsweden

​ @widowvinter

​@daughterofthenight117

​ @drayshadow

​@archy3001

​ @miraclesoflove

​Monte Carlo Tags:

#Steve x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers series #steve rogers #captain america #the monte carlo job #iwillbeinmynest #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #you x steve rogers #captain america x reader #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff

[violetwolfraven]

sprace 49

Uhhhh there is no 49 so I’m just gonna assume you meant 46? (In hindsight I’m now thinking you meant the other prompt list and I am a moron but I already wrote this thing so???)

(For any pairing except javid) I have to tell Jack about my relationship but he’s basically everyone’s big brother and—

Get ready for some canon-era with a couple of background ships.

...

“Okay,” Race took a deep breath, “I can do this. I can do this.”

Albert rolled his eyes, “You’re worryin’ for nothin’, Racer. He’s gonna be fine with it.”

“Yeah,” Finch agreed, “I mean, he was fine with me and Albie.”

“And me and Romeo,” Specs added.

“Damn near all of us is queer,” Finch pointed out, “Including Jack, himself. It’ll be fine, Race.”

Race shook his head, “It’s different. Both of ya and your partners are Manhattan.”

“Sorry,” Mike said, looking a little confused but smiling all the same, “Who’re we talkin’ ‘bout? Racer has a lover outside of Manhattan?”

“Race is fucking Spot Conlon,” Albert supplied.

“Daaaaaaaaaamn! Good job, Racetrack!”

Race just rolled his eyes. He and Spot had been together officially—as in, on the same page, in love and they both know it—for over a year now, after a talk they’d had right after the strike. And even if it had kind of started out as a friends with benefits kind of deal, just making out whenever they both had some time, ‘fuck-buddies’ or whatever the hell half Race’s friends seemed to think they were, did not describe what they actually were at all.

Albert knew damn well they weren’t fuck-buddies—Race told his best friend enough that he knew that they weren’t even fucking yet—which was why Race felt the need to slap him with his hat.

Like he had wondered many times, Race wondered again why he had to go and choose the one who loved to cause chaos as his best friend.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine with it,” Mike said helpfully, “Jack likes when all of us is happy.”

“Yeah, but he’s also really protective,” Race groaned, “He’s like a big brother to me—to all of us!”

“So let him give Spot a shovel talk,” Specs said simply, “That’ll be the end of it. Mike’s right. Jack can be protective, but he’s happiest when all of us is happy.”

“I’s been your friend since we was littles, Racer,” Albert put in, “And I’ve never seen you as happy as you’s been since you and Spot got official.”

Race had to admit, he hadn’t been this happy since... well, he didn’t remember being this happy even when his folks were still alive.

Spot made him happy, made him brave, and that was why he was finally plucking up the courage to tell Jack about them.

“Okay,” he said, forcing a smile, “I’m gonna do it.”

Race’s friends cheered him on as he headed out to Jack’s fire escape penthouse.

“Jack, we needs to talk.”

Race was kind of counting his blessings that neither Crutchie nor Davey was out there, so he had a one-on-one with Manhattan’s leader.

Jack looked a bit concerned as he put down the pape he was drawing on and nodded.

“Okay. ‘Bout what?”

Race took a deep breath, “What would ya say if I was... if I was kinda...”

“Spit it out, Racer. What is it?”

“I’m courtin’ Spot Conlon,” Race blurted, forcing himself to keep looking Jack in the eye.

He was scared of his brother’s reaction, but he needed to see it all the same.

Jack looked at the ground, “Shit. Shit. Oh my God. How didn’t I see that?”

“I’m sorry,” Race offered.

“Don’t be,” Jack chuckled, “I mean, I got Ike sneakin’ out to Brooklyn already, thinkin’ he’s slick. I don’t know how I didn’t see you doin’ it, too.”

“You gots a lot of guys. Ya can’t possibly keep track of all of us. Besides, I’m one of the ones ya know can take care of himself.”

Jack snorted, “No. No, ya can’t. You’re just stupidly good at talkin’ your way out of fights. So, how long has this thing with Spot been goin’ on?”

Race finally felt like he could breathe. Jack was taking this a lot better than he thought he would.

“Officially, since right after the strike. But we was makin’ out outside sellin’ hours for a few months before that.”

Jack wrinkled his nose, “Okay, I didn’t need to know that last part. But... damn. It’s been over a year. Am I that oblivious?”

He seemed fine with it, but...

“Hey, what’s up?” Race asked, “You seem sad.”

Jack sighed, “I ain’t sad, Race. Not exactly. It’s just... ya know how hard things are for me and Davey, right? We barely ever get a minute just the two of us, and that ain’t even takin’ into account havin’ to keep things secret.”

“Yeah. Of course I knows that.”

“Spot lives in fuckin’ Brooklyn. Not only that—he’s got the responsibilities of leadin’ probably the biggest borough in New York. I mean, anything’s possible, but I just don’t see how ya could make that work. I don’t wanna see you get hurt.”

Race tilted his head, “We make it work now. ‘Sides, it ain’t like I’m the leader of Manhattan.”

“Racer...”

Race’s stomach dropped as he realized what Jack was really saying.

“Oh.”

“Race... I’m 18. I’m gettin’ too old for this, and Davey and I... we’s been lookin’ at apartments. This wasn’t how I wanted to break the news to ya, but... we can’t stay much longer. And when we go, Manhattan’ll be yours and Crutchie’s.”

Race had known this was coming for... well, ever since he became one of Jack’s seconds, when he was 12. He’d known it more in how slowly, over the last few months, he’d found himself being asked for input on various issues more and more often. Jack and Davey thought they were being subtle, but Race and Crutchie had noticed weeks ago.

He’d known it was coming, but that didn’t mean it didn’t ache, just thinking about the boy who’d watched over him for most of his childhood leaving.

“When?”

Jack sighed, shrugging, “I don’t know. Soon. Davey wants to wait till after winter—hand you and Crutchie the reins when it’ll be easy to keep everyone alive so’s ya can get used to it before it gets hard.”

“That makes sense,” Race reasoned, remembering how hard it was for Jack. He’d had to take the reins during a hard winter, because the previous leader of Manhattan died.

“Look,” Jack smiled, “I’m happy for ya, Racer. Spot, too. Really. And honestly, I’m not too worried about him hurtin’ you intentionally. I know you was close friends before ya even got together—which, by the way, I cannot believe ya didn’t tell me, you asshole—so he won’t raise a hand or probably even his voice to ya. But it’s one thing with Crutchie, sneakin’ around with that girl he met at Medda’s—“

“Crutchie’s sneakin’ around with a girl?” Race asked, honestly delighted by this bit of gossip.

“Yeah... he thinks I don’t know, but we sleep on the same fuckin’ fire escape. I followed him one time when he snuck out to see her. Anyway, it’s one thing with that. For one thing, Crutchie don’t have to keep his sweetheart a secret ‘less he wants to—she’s a girl.”

“You and Davey—“

“Let me finish, Racer. For another thing, Spot is King of Brooklyn. He’s got eyes on him most of the time and even when he doesn’t, there’s no way he could sneak to Manhattan regularly without gettin’ noticed. He’s probably only gotten away with bein’ with ya this long because you sell at Sheepshead.”

Race wanted to argue, but he had to admit... Spot almost never came to Manhattan. Race was always the one going to Brooklyn for him.

“If you’s one of Manhattan’s leaders, you gotta sell in Manhattan, and even after hours, there’s no way you can constantly sneak off to another borough without some of the wrong people noticin’.”

Damn. He was probably right. Race and Spot were stealing moments now. If Race was selling in Manhattan, it would be damn near impossible to get time. He definitely wouldn’t see Spot every day anymore, possibly not even every week.

“Look—Crutchie could do this by himself, long as he’s got some muscle backin’ him up. With Mush, Blink, and Elmer, among others, bein’ young enough to stick around a while, that shouldn’t be a problem. If you don’t wanna be leader, I can start gettin’ him ready for—“

“No.”

Race had known he was going to be helping lead when Jack grew up and left since he was 12. He was 16 now—one of the older ones. He’d been instinctively protecting the others for years. He already looked at most of the younger ones as younger brothers.

Race had been ready for a long time to protect his younger brothers, no matter the cost.

Even if that cost was a closer relationship with the boy he loved.

“Spot and I can do a long-distance thing,” he said, “We’ll be fine. I’ll tell him... sometime. Tell me when you and Davey are movin’ out... I don’t know, but just tell me at least a little in advance.”

Jack nodded, “Okay. It won’t be for another couple months, at least, but...”

Race definitely wasn’t getting choked up. Those definitely weren’t tears in Jack’s eyes. It was just...

The Newsies were the only family either of them had known since they were little. Jack had been protecting Race, or trying to, at least, since they were about 5 and 7.

Race consoled himself with how it wasn’t like they’d really be saying goodbye. Jack had given up that old dream of Santa Fe. He was staying close, which meant he could visit, but...

Damn. Race was going to miss him.

“So, Spot’s good to ya?” Jack asked, “He treats ya right? Stops if ya ask?”

Race nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, of course. He’s... he’s great. I mean, he don’t seem to think he deserves me, or at least he didn’t, at first. He kept tellin’ me about all the kills he had to make as if that’d make me walk away.”

“Hmm...” Jack patted his shoulder, “Maybe we needs to have a talk about your taste in men, Racer. Do I need to tell Davey ‘bout who you’s courtin’?”

Race laughed, “Please don’t. I’ll tell him myself and you can have a worried talk ‘bout me later.”

“We ain’t your mom and dad, kid”

“Coulda fooled me, dad.”

Jack laughed, and Race had to admit, that hug made him feel a lot better about... well, everything.

“Seriously, though—you, me, and Davey—we’re goin’ over to Brooklyn tomorrow night. We’re gonna say we got business to talk, but really, me and Davey are gonna talk to your boy. Can’t have anyone hurtin’ Manhattan’s future leader, can we?”

Race laughed. Honestly, the idea of anyone giving Spot fucking Conlon a shovel talk was hilarious to him.

But, that was just Race’s family. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

#newsies #sprace #racetrack higgins #spot conlon #jack kelly #big brother jack kelly #dad friend jack kelly #background javid #background redfinch #background spromeo #violet’s writing

[vanchlo]

The Firsts / #3 “The First Time Together Together”

*not my gif*

---> NEXT BLURB: November 2nd, hopefully.

---> READ BLURB #2

READ THE ASSISTANT, AKA WHAT CAME FIRST

SERIES MASTERLIST          

READ ON WATTPAD

-> SHOULD I CREATE A TAGLIST FOR THIS SERIES? IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE ADDED, LET ME KNOW! :)

LEGEND:

+ : a break in the story; a time jump.

bold: Harry’s texts

italics: Becky’s texts

WARNINGS: None really

WORD COUNT: 4.6k words

SONG: Our House by Crosby, Nash, Stills, and Young (CLICK TO LISTEN)

                          * SNEAK PEEK, DUH BC ALWAYS *

“Y’know what, Becks?”

“Hmm, Harry?” I hum in reply, moving my head a few inches this way, and another few inches that way until I hear the boom-boom of his heart under my ear.

“Wish I could fall asleep next t’ you ev’ry night, even if . . ya nag at me,” he mumbles, the words becoming slower and softer with every breath of his.

I wish I could fall asleep smiling next to you, and with your heartbeat under my ear too, Harry.

Me too.

“I am, you know.”

“What?”

“Yours.”

- Tara and Willow, Buffy the Vampire Slayer

*

“I’ve seen you dress up before and you looked nice, but God, you look nice nice today.” 

“How many drinks have ya already t’night?” he chuckles, quirking an eyebrow whilst sipping from his whiskey glass. His long, bubblegum lips spread into a proud smile, wet from the brown liquid that swims around the ice cubes in his glass. 

“None!” I insist and he chuckles again, the sound muffled by the rim of his glass that returns to his lips. 

“Sure, babe,” Harry titters, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat lit by the sun. “‘s okay if ya have. I dunno how I coulda gotten thru’ all that shit in this heat without a few.” 

I almost shrug my shoulders, unsure of what to say to that, but I don’t get the chance to think on it before he takes my hand to lead us away from the gift table. 

“C’mon, I dunno how many mo’ people I can talk t’ and introduce who I bloody am befo’ I go mad,” he wheezes with a shake of his head, downing the rest of his drink. “Beats me how they can’t know who tha best man ‘s, seein’ ‘ve known tha groom most o’ me life and his.” 

“Oh no, is Harry’s big head shrinking now?” I joke, my lips growing to kiss my cheeks when he turns to dramatically roll his eyes at me. 

“Hush, you. Ya want sumthin’ t’ drink? ‘s a free bar, but y’know, only tha basic stuff.” 

“I want my boyfriend back, is what,” I whine, grabbing hold of the front of his blazer and into my arms. A dimple falls into his cheek, and then into his other as he smiles at me. 

“Ya do have me back, babe. What’re you talkin’ ‘bout? Tha ceremony ‘s over, and now ‘s time fer all tha fun.” 

“But you don’t get to sit with me at dinner,” I whimper, my face falling into a smushed assortment of lines. He sighs above me and shakes his head of curls at me, his haircut the other day leaving them how he likes them, short. 

“Oh, stop it. We’ve gone over this, Becks, you’ll be sittin’ with Rose. My’ and Jeanie put you there fer a reason, since I know yer not familiar with many others here. Jus’ be happy me mum and sista couldn’t make it,” he teases against my cheek, the smell of the honey whiskey ghosting over my lips. 

“Don’t say it like I don’t like them, you know I do.” 

“I know, ‘m kiddin’ ‘round,” he titters, sponging a kiss to my temple before he pulls away. I almost get lost in those bright greens, but I’m roused when he brushes his thumb across my cheek. “‘ll be right back. Don’t get all sad now that ‘m leavin’ you fer a sec, my li’l lost puppy.” 

“Shut up, would you?” I mutter with creased cheeks, watching him walk up to the bar in his black suit. His voice floats over to me as the image of his brown curls shrinks from view, replaced by the fairy lights sparkling around us. Pulling at the scoop neck of my scarlet dress, I scan the covered space and the bodies meandering around it, talking. 

“Here’s a White Zinfandel, I dunno what else d’ya want,” a voice says from behind me. I don’t need to look to see who it is, but I do by habit and am met with a tan hand full of rings holding out a glass of pink wine to me. 

“Oh, thanks.” 

“Welcome,” Harry returns, tapping a finger against his once again full whiskey glass, making a clinking noise. “Aw, fook. They’re startin’ speeches already, I betta go. ‘ll see you soon, love. Wish me luck,” he rushes, surprising me with a kiss to the lips and a pat to my back. 

“Luck!” I call after him, laughing when he looks back at me with a comically confused look whilst taking a glug from his glass for good measure. 

“Well, shit, what d’ya even say at these things?” he blubbers from the stage a few moments later, cheeks red and dimpled. With aching cheeks from smiling, I sip at my glass of wine while watching him stumble to find his speech in a pocket of his onyx black suit. 

“Oh, here tha bloody thing ‘s,” Harry chuckles, and the crowd echoes him. “Myles, Myles, Myles. Where do I even start with you, ya git? Known ya too bloody long, I reckon. Fookin’ hell, known ya fer fifteen years too long, ‘d say,” he begins, and the guests hang onto his every word as do I. “We’ve sure been thru’ loads o’ shit t’getha, and here ya are, married. God, ya always hafta do ev’rything befo’ me, dontch’u?” 

The sweet wine lingers on my lips as my laugh blends into the rest of those around me while Harry shakes his head, taking a drink break to sip from his glass. 

“We went t’ school t’getha, law school t’getha, and started a bloody lawfirm t’getha t’ top it all off. Somehow, ‘s still standin’ and we’re doin’ great. I know it wouldn’t be if it weren’t fer you . . Reckon neitha would I, hope y’know,” he continues, and my eyes follow his to where Myles stands at the front of the crowd with his new wife on his arm. An emphasis sits in his eyes that goes unmatched until I find Harry’s again and the few tears that sit in them, drowning in the gratefulness and emotion that I recognize bittersweetly. “Ya’ve go’mme thru’ mo’ shit than I could ever thank you fer, and you’ve been me rock when mine was missin.’” 

The wine sits on my tongue sourly when I hear that and see his sad smile, and then his two second glance to me that’s gone when I blink. The rest of his best man’s speech goes on without a hitch, and the crowd loves him. But, God, they don’t as much as I do, I think whilst admiring my favorite person in the entire world, and just how fucking fine he looks in a tux. Harry leads a cheers with his whiskey glass raised to the ceiling, and I join him as my eyes stay glued to the man whose bowtie sits unraveled at his neck. The man whose cheeks shine with a summer glow and absence of facial hair, and his trademark curls combed into a quiff that this summer day couldn’t even bother. 

Six months in, and the butterflies still return when he steps off the stage, and his alcohol-reddened cheeks dimple with the smile that he sends to me. 

“Can I have this dance, miss?” he asks, setting down his whiskey next to my wine. 

“Of course. I could never turn down a dance from the best man, I’m sure every other lady here would die for one.”

“Yer so cheesy, Becks, even mo’ so than me sumtimes,” Harry remarks, taking my hand in his and leading me to the dance floor in the middle of the outdoor space. “I love ya fer it, y’know.” 

“Good, you better,” I almost laugh, letting him guide my hands to his shoulders as he places his on my waist. 

“Maybe it’ll be us havin’ tha first dance at one o’ these sumday soon, Becks. Have ya thought ‘bout me question yet, hmm?”

“I dunno,” I giggle against the warmth of his neck after nuzzling close to him. His sigh tickles my temple that he soothes with the gentlest of pecks. 

“I know my answer.” 

“And what’s that?” I wonder aloud, swaying to the song with him, ever so effortlessly. Somehow, anything with him feels that way. 

“Wouldn’t you like t’ know.” 

“Harry!” I exclaim, leaving the safety of his neck to find his giggling lips. 

“What? That’s whatcha get when ya won’t answer me question.” 

A scoff leaves my lips, and he only giggles harder until it shrinks away to be replaced by his fingers in my hair ever so softly. 

“I think Styles would sound good on you, Becks,” he hums, thumb ghosting over my birthmark as his eyes explore me. 

“How many drinks have you had today?”

“Doesn’t matta. I feel that way sober even,” he insists, those greens at last returning to me. The slightest of curls comes to his lips and something I can’t quite place blossoms in his eyes. “Rebecca Styles, it sounds perfect. Dontchu think, babe?”

“Harry, it’s only been six months-.” 

“In a week and a half, I know, Becks,” he interrupts softly, biting at his lip habitually. “Jus’ a thought. Whenever ya have that answer fo’ me, lemme know,” he whispers against my ear, sending goosebumps down my spine. 

Oh, but I think I do, Harry.

+

“Oooooookay, that’s enough for you, mister. Come on, let’s get you to bed already.

“Becks, no. ‘m fine, I promise you. I don’t wanna go t’ bed yet, babe,” he whines. The dark liquid sloshes around in the cup he holds, threatening to spill over the sides. 

“Harry, you’re going to spill. C’mon, we’re both spent. Let’s go to bed,” I insist, taking the half-full wine glass from his hand and setting it down on the wooden coffee table. 

“Fine, mum,” he mumbles, getting to his feet shakily. Tugging on his arm some more, I slowly thread him through the space between the sofa and table. 

“Come on then, son. If you’re gonna act like a child, I’ll treat you like one,” I laugh, shortly enjoying the fake laugh he gives me. The steps are slow, and so is getting him ready for bed, and into it, is even more so. 

“Why’re you laughin’ at me?” he whimpers as I pull the covers up his shoulders before sliding under them myself. 

“Because you’re kind of pathetic.” 

“Hey, be nice t’ me. I didn’t mean t’ get all buzzed t’night,” Harry complains, taking my hand and pulling me over, until my head is on his shoulder. 

“Oh, so what do you call the five glasses of wine you had at your sister’s and the other two you snuck once we got home? I thought you swore off alcohol the other day when you woke up with a hangover after the wedding.”

He only sighs and closes his eyes, his warm rings molding against the round of my shoulder. The rhythm of his breaths attempts to whisk me off into my dreams already, a pair of leggings I’d left at his and my favourite t-shirt of his swallowing my top. 

“Y’know what, Becks?”

“Hmm, Harry?” I hum in reply, moving my head a few inches this way, and another few inches that way until I hear the boom-boom of his heart under my ear. 

“Wish I could fall asleep next t’ you ev’ry night, even if . . ya nag at me,” he mumbles, the words becoming slower and softer with every breath of his. 

I wish I could fall asleep smiling next to you, and with your heartbeat under my ear too, Harry. 

Me too.

+

The chatter fills my ears in a stable hum, hitting pitch and falling low at times, only to flutter between the two again, and again. Shortly, it all falls away when the door closes to hush the room, but the volume in my heart only grows louder. The question that shouts into the void within my chest repeats itself for the next five minutes, until the frosted glass door opens and spits him out. Everybody gives him a hard time for being late, and only do I relax when he meets my eyes with a soft smile, at last. I get a wink before he sits down at the table across from me, feeling a thousand miles away from me. Within a few moments, and pressing the keys of my laptop, he isn’t, anymore. 

Late much?

it was the traffic, it was terrible

You know you use that excuse much too often, Harry, especially for your own meeting

i know, you only tell me all of the time babe ;) 

oh but hey, i gotta tell u. i’ve been listening to that one band some more that you rec’d. holy shit are they good. hippocampus was it?goofy name but they’ve got some tunes. i think im likin Bambi best rn. 

No way, that’s my favorite of theirs! Yes, I’m soooo happy you’reliking them!!!!! 

told you i’d get to them eventually babe. just wish it hadn’t takenme so long now. wow! 

I told you!!!

there ya are again lovin to tell me ya told me so haha 

Wow, it’s like I know you or something

wow its like i knew youd like vampire weekend or someting. ok stop it with the texts i really gotta concentrate here. im supposed to be your boss

Yeah, you’re doing a great job of that, sir. Showing up late to a meeting. Being  hungover at work. Shall I continue, boss?

hush, you. could easily make you me assistant again 

You wanna bet? Myles and Rose like me too much that let that happen

I do wanna bet. keep talkin babe and youre payin for lunch 2day

Rude 

i learned from the best 

Quietly scoffing, I lift my eyes to find the smirking pair waiting for me. Harry stifles a laugh with his fist against his smirking lips, dimples showing loudly. He winks quickly at me before turning his head to listen to Myles, only making me miss him all the more. A notification bubble on my screen catches my attention, and makes my smile grow all the wider. 

love you my little shit Xxxxxxxx

+

I think you’re … Oh my god, Harry. Are you falling asleep? At a meeting?!

am not

Are too!

used the wrong ‘to,’ Becks

Did not!

not fun bein corrected all the time now is it, ms. grammar police?

Rude

hell is that your response to anything that doesnt go your way, brat? 

I guess somebody doesnt get their dick sucked tonight after all

dont be fuckin rude

Not fun being called rude, now is it?

your gonna be the death of me, holte. swear it

It’s you’re, has FRIENDS taught you nothing, or have I?

nah i fuckin tune out when you start to nag you should know this by now babe

Yeah well, I think a mastered lawyer such as yourself with his own lawfirm should know when to use the different yours 

ya well, i think the girlfriend should know when to stop before she doesnt get to sleep over at the boyfriend’s tonight

You’re rude

I learned from the best

Harry Edward!

dont you push it rebecca ann 

Ugh, I want to hate you sometimes

its settled. no sexy time for you tonight

Harry! I got new lingerie! 

only kidding baby ;) bring the lingerie plz i cant wait to see you in it, my pretty girl 

Yes, sir ;) 

good girl

+

The halls are much too quiet with The Big Four in a meeting this morning, about what, I don’t recall. It still stings to pass Jennings in the hall, and things are still awkward between him and Harry I’ve noticed, but all he told me was that he had handled it. What he meant by that, I don’t know, but all I know is now, it’s The Big Three - Myles, Harry, and Rose, and no longer The Four. Rose made junior partner last month and the celebration still hadn’t ended from it, but we all could see the fake smile Jennings slapped on and continues to. Like Harry and Myles, she still takes cases and argues them, but now, she's more involved with the nitty gritty details of the firm, and seems to be loving it. Wedding planning, and all. I can only wish to be as on top of it as she is like that one day. 

My movements are slow and calculated as I close my laptop, and check my appearance in the mirror. Adjusting my cream blouse underneath the black suit, I take deep breaths, but they just don’t stick. I set my iPhone down on the desk, but not before checking my home screen. Nothing new, just as it was five minutes ago when I last checked. Okay, then, I think before stepping into the hall and closing my door behind me. 

The new, large clock in the lobby dongs softly through the halls, announcing nine o’clock. It’s time. Despite my best efforts, I glance around corners and over my shoulder, looking for him, but he’s nowhere to be found. 

Great. 

Even better. 

Knock knock!

“Oh, come in, please,” the voice behind the door says, bringing me forth. “Hey, Becky. Right on time, thanks.” 

“Welcome, Myles. Where’s that business partner of yours?” I softly laugh, hoping I can diffuse the tension, if only somehow. The question flew from my lips the moment I stepped into his office and noticed that we’re alone. 

“Hmm, not sure. I just saw him a few minutes ago after our meeting finished. It beats me. Shouldn’t the girlfriend know?” he jokes wryly, moving around items on his desk. 

“God, I wish. Sometimes, I’m no better. I haven’t spoken to him yet this morning,” I offer, smoothing down the back of my skirt and take a seat in front of his desk.

“Yeah, known him for I dunno how long, and I couldn’t tell you where he’s run off to. Oh, really? Didn’t carpool together with his early meeting today?” 

“Talkin’ ‘bout me, are you?” somebody voices. Both of our heads turn to behind me to watch Harry walk in, holding a Queen mug, and his laptop under his arm. 

“Yeah, wondering why you’re always late, mate.” 

“Line fer coffee was long in tha break room,” he shrugs, as if it’s a top tier excuse. “Hey, my love,” Harry coos with a smile to me, bending down to press his lips to mine. I almost giggle against his, but my widening eyes do all of the talking when he pulls away. 

His quirked eyebrows do his talking as his dimples glow on his face. Words almost leave his wondering lips but they’re interrupted by Myles excusing himself to take a call. 

“What’s that look fer?” Harry wheezes at last, sipping from his mug before finding a coaster to set it down on. 

“Since when do we kiss in front of people we work with?” I giggle nervously, wondering when the heat will ever leave my cheeks now. 

“‘s jus’ Myles, babe. He doesn’t give a shit. I reckon he has t’ have a bit o’ understandin’ afta how many times ‘ve griped over how much o’ a pain in tha arse it can be fer us t’ keep it professional ‘round tha firm,” he explains, swiftling undoing the one button on his pinstriped pecan colored blazer. 

“Oh,” is all I say, looking around the office absentmindedly while my mind whirs. 

“Sorry, I didn’t see yer texts ‘til now. Busy meetin’ this mornin,’ but we got loads done luckily,” he says, the sound of his velvet black boots soft on the tiling, blending into the sounds of the firm, as I call it. “Hmm, I liked tha one song ya sent me from Cage tha Elephant, so ‘ll hafta give this one a try, too. Thanks, babe.” 

“Mmmhmm,” I hum, distractedly. My chin falls into my hand and the pastel purple of my nailpolish blurs in front of me. 

“Alright there? Not still worryin’ ‘bout yer review inna few, are you, Becks? I told ya you’ll do great, y’know I have nuthin’ bad t’ say ‘bout how yer doin.’ ‘Course I hafta come up with sumthin’ t’ work on with you, but that’s jus’ ‘cause I can’t avoid it.”

“What?” I respond quickly, looking up to find his squinty eyes at me. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just nervewracking.” 

“‘s jus’ Myles, bug. There’s nuthin’ t’ worry ‘bout, I already told him how ya’ve been doin,’ and winnin’ last week’s case t’getha, t’ top it off,” he remarks with a glow in his voice. 

Nodding, the words poise to jump from my lips, but just then the door opens, “Sorry about that, let’s get started now that Harry’s made his fashionably late arrival, like always.” 

“Hey, watch it, My.’ Seems yer no betta,” Harry jests, fingers decorated with rings coursing through his short curls. 

“I actually had a good excuse, mind you,” Myles says, falling into the chair behind his desk. 

“God, it’s like my first interview all over again. Harry’s late and you’re both arguing like an old, married couple,” I joke with a small laugh, crossing my ankles and folding my hands. 

“Sure are,” Harry agrees aloud with a loud air kiss to Myles, scooching his chair towards the desk with a warm smile sent my way. 

“So, Becky,” Myles begins, pulling out a stapled document that somehow embeds fear into my bones, quickly ignoring the assurances Harry has showered me with. “Harry’s been telling me that you’re doing great, and things are going well six months in.” 

“Yes, very well, actually. Learnin’ loads,” Harry adds in, leaning back in the twin office chair while a hand gets lost in his hair, per usual. 

“So I’ve heard. How are things going in your opinion, Becky?”

“Thank you, Myles,” I say, trying not to laugh as the two men exchange annoyed looks. “I’m really happy here and like Harry said, I’m learning lots. I couldn’t have asked for a better teacher than him.” 

“I dunno if I agree with that,” Myles quips and my humorous boyfriend shakes his head with a perturbed sigh. “I’m joking, Hare, and Becky, I’m very glad to hear that. We’re all very happy to have you here and part of the team. Somebody, especially.” 

“Would ya shuddup, My’?” Harry groans with a click of his tongue, but when I meet his eyes, he’s anything but annoyed with the sunshine he sends my way.

+

“Told ya yer review’d go great, babe. Ya should listen t’ me mo.’” 

“Would you hush?” I say. “Of course you’d say that.” 

“What’s that s’posed t’ mean?” Harry asks, all confused. 

“You just have a big head, that’s all,” I answer, opening the car door and stepping out into the humid garage. 

“Hey, would ya stop givin' me a hard time ‘bout havin’ a big head? It hurts me feelings.” 

“I didn’t mean it that way, but does it hurt your feelings if I mean you have a big ego, too?” I explain, toeing off my sandals in his entryway. 

“Yes,” he whines, dramatically. It pulls a laugh from my lips that sounds around the empty house, it soon coming to life as I flick on some lights. “Harper sure was adorable callin’ you Anty Becky t’night.” 

“I know, I loved it. Her birthday was fun. Thanks again.” 

“Oh, don’t thank me, love. Thank her. She was tha one who made you a handmade invitation, not moi,” he comments warmly, the jangling of his keys accompanying his words. “Thank you, I know it wasn’t ‘xactly convenient with t’day, and ev’rythin.’” 

“No, it’s okay. It was a lot of fun, you know I love your family.” 

“I know, it makes me happy. Thank you, Becks,” he says, pulling on my hand until I follow into the dining area, and then onto the sofa. 

“Welcome, Harry. Do you want to watch an episode of FRIENDS, or a few, before I go home?”

“I was thinkin’ ya could stay tha night again, if ya wanna. Figured we should do sumthin’ t’ celebrate tha big 6,” he announces, his voice teeming with excitement, guiding my eyes to his figure behind the kitchen island. I’m startled when the cork pops from the dark bottle, squealing with a hand to my mouth. “Want a glass?”

“Yes, please. And there’s chocolate cake hidden in the fridge that I saved for tonight.” 

“Jus’ look at you, spoilin’ me,” Harry says with a clicking of his tongue, soon drowned out by the opening of drawers, and clinking of silverware. 

Humming under my breath, I splay out on the sofa with the remote in hand. Pressing on the different arrows, I wait for the right screen to load while I scroll through my phone. 

“Here ya go,” he announces, setting down a plate with slices of chocolate cake, and two wine glasses half filled with a sparkling liquid. “‘s Prosecco, hope that’s okay.” 

“Yeah, I like that too. Thanks, babe.” 

“Yer welcome, love. Oh, don’t wanna f’get this, no, I don’t,” he says, and a moment later, a small wrapped box arrives on my lap. 

“Harry,” I begin in protest, but sitting down next to me, he doesn’t let me continue. 

“Don’t worry, jus’ open it.” 

“I was going to say that I didn’t get you anything for our six month today,” I tell him with emphasis in my voice. He shakes his head while taking a bite of the cake, swiping at his tongue dotted with crumbs. 

“There’s nuthin’ I want- jus’ open it, Becks. Please,” he insists, nodding at the present and looking away quickly to stab at the cake again. 

“Okay then,” I tease, sitting up and crossing my legs. “Harry Styles, this better not be a you-know-what ring.” 

“‘s not, babe. Ya still haven’t given me that answer, so ‘course not,” he explains with a mouth full of cake, and crazily, I love him all the more for it. Shaking my head at the smirk he wears, I tear at the metallic, purple wrapping paper until I arrive at a white, square box the size of my palm. “Maybe ya could gimme an answer t’ anotha question I have instead,” Harry says slowly, right as I pry the top off to find a lone, purple house key waiting for me. 

“What?” I laugh without thinking a thought about why, or how, and every other thing in between. Looking up and away, I find his dimpled cheeks the near color of roses. A laugh wheezes from his lips as he sets down the plate on the table, but I find it hard to focus on as my heart begins a race inside my ribs. 

“I meant it when I said tha other night that I wanna fall asleep next t’ ya ev’ry night, babe. So, what d’ya say t’ sleep overs with me ev’ry night, hmm? Will ya move in with me, Becks?” and just like that, it all clicks inside of my head, even though I had put a few of them together just a moment ago. 

Plucking the key from the box, I rub it between my fingers, and then my eyes return to him, like everything always does. His bottom lip is riddled with indents from his chattering teeth, as if his eyes like a meadow weren’t boring into me already. 

“Becks, love?” he murmurs softly, anxiously. A curve arrives on my lips, mere moments before I cross the sofa and jump onto his lap. His peppery, vanilla scent swims around me while his ever contagious laugh does the same, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. “Bloody hell, woman, can I get that answer from ya already or not?” 

Giggling, I at last pull away from hugging him and come to feel the days of stubble littering his cheeks, just how I like it. The flecks of gold and ivory in his eyes catch the light as they dance over my face, and I wonder what he sees in mine as his fingers get lost in my hair. I wonder if he sees the answer before I say it, because what else would it be but, “Of course, Harry. There’s nothing I’d want more.” 

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles wattpad #lawyer!harry #boss!harry #ceo!harry #lawyer!harry blurb #new chapter #chaptered fic #the assistant series #the assistant h.s. #narrymccartney writes #the firsts blurb series #the firsts h.s. #hecky #pa harry #the assistant harry styles #harry x becks #rebecca holte #becks holte #blurb #write #one direction fanfiction #wattpad #fanfic #my writing #keep

[simon-x-billy]

Simon x Billy

Chapter 2: The European Plug Situation

Fandoms: The Mortal Instruments universe and all books by Cassandra Clare | the BBC’s Me & Mrs. Jones | Robert Sheehan

AN: This one’s in Simon’s pov, like Ch. 1. Billy pov coming soon. Triggers? Not really, except for language. Most importantly, the only thing original about this story is Italy and the photos I took there. I’ve stolen liberally from Cassandra Clare, TJKlune, and all m|m authors I’ve ever read. I’m using every m|m trope I can. Please tell me if: A. Something sounds a little too familiar. B. You’d like to be on a tag list for future chapters. I respond from @firstpersonnarrator

——-/-/——-

Masterlist | ao3 | Prev | Next

——-/-/——-

Chapter 2: The European Plug Situation

-----/Simon/-----

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. This is not going the way I planned. I hate it when that happens. I was prepared.

Except for the European plug situation.

First off, my bad. My responsibility, my fault, my dead phone. On day 1, in another country that speaks a language io don’t parlo. Except when I’m having an internal scolding session. Apparently, io parlo Italiano just fine when I least need it. Like when I’m conducting a conversation behind my face. Behind my fucking face. (Whose lip I can feel curling to express distaste and low level angst.)

First off, my bad. My responsibility, my fault, my dead phone. On day 1, in another country that speaks a language io don’t parlo. Except when I’m having an internal scolding session. Apparently, io parlo Italiano just fine when I least need it. Like when I’m conducting a conversation behind my face. Behind my fucking face. (Whose lip I can feel curling to express distaste and low level angst.)

First off, my bad. My responsibility, my fault, my dead phone. On day 1, in another country that speaks a language io don’t parlo. Except when I’m having an internal scolding session. Apparently, io parlo Italiano just fine when I least need it. Like when I’m conducting a conversation behind my face. Behind my fucking face. (Whose lip I can feel curling to express distaste and low level angst.)

Ugh. They have to have cell phone chargers at the gift shop. I sigh. Looking around, it’s pretty obvious this was originally some kind of old, schmancy, vacation villa. Something tells me there’s no gift shop. It’s not that kind of hotel. Under my breath I whimper, “Fuck.”

“All right?” It’s Billy. I jump because why is he standing behind me?

I pivot and fix him with my very best suspicious glare. I went to theatre school. Ok, fine, summer camp. Point is, I give good face when needed. This is one of those times, one of those faces.

“Jesus! How long have you been standing there, creeper? Were you listening in on my conversation?”

“You mean, the word ‘fuck?’ That was a pretty quiet, short conversation.” He’s grinning at me now.

“Did you go to theatre school?” I clarify, “Like, ever?”

Billy snorts. “No, man. Where’d that come from?”

He’s all good humor and it’s so totally inappropriate, I try willing him to stop. His eyebrow -- oh my god it’s humongous wtf -- one arches while the other frowns. How does he do that? At least the top half of his face isn’t grinning anymore. That’s progress.

“What,” he demands. “Why’re yeh lookin at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’d like me to feck right off, leaving you alone to realize you don’t have your room key.” He jangles it at me.

More eye rolling, and I don’t care who hears, because “That would have been the topper to a very shitty day.” Having stopped rolling, my eyes pop out of my head. Because he has handed me the keys. “Whoa! These are sooo cool.”

I have to keep myself from fondling them. “Skeleton keys,” I whisper.

“Glad they cheered you up, man. You were havin a mope there for a while.”

My mope returns. Sort of an exasperation + anxiety x annoyance, to the power of a lingering ache in my stomach that I know from recent experience is a bone deep sadness.

“And now it’s back,” he says. “Whatever’s going through your head can be moped over later. Mate, you’re in Italy. Ye’haven’t seemed to notice that yet.”

“Is there a gift shop?”

“Sorry, what?”

Is he laughing at me? “A gift shop.”

“This isn’t that kind of hotel, mate, sorry. Is there something I can help yeh with?”

So many things. “I just remembered the plugs are different here. I have arrived in Italy with a dead cell phone and no compatible plugs. I feel so betrayed.”

He laughs and his eyes twinkle. They twinkle.

At least he can tell when I’m joking. That’s a thing.

“Don’t worry, Seemon. I’ll get it sorted.” He gives a small salute and disappears into the bowels of the hotel.

Oh shit. “Wait! Billy! Billy?”

A woman appears in his place from some dimly lit doorway. She reminds me of my mother. But with fewer anxiety and worry wrinkles criss-crossing her face.

Damn. Ma would be so wounded by that thought, so I put it out of my mind.

“Signore?”

“Oh, um, si, io non parlo Italiano. I like to start all my sentences that way,” I say with an attempt at charm. Billy doesn’t get to own charming.

She gives me a strange look, and responds with the old classic “Oooookay,” in heavily accented English. “Why do you stand in the doorway? With the baggage around you like goats.”

Apparently neither one of us is very funny in English. I feel so lost in translation.

“Come. Let me make you checked in, and we will settle you. Come in from the doorstep,” she says as she turns away with her neck craning. “Leo? Leo!”

A young man (boy?) -- A young man-boy hurries out of what appears to be an office. She’s peppering him with instructions that I can’t understand, and then my suitcases are being pulled from my hands.

While she futzes with her computer, I finally take a moment to notice the amazing carved wood segment of wall behind her. I wish I could see it in detail. Figure out what story it’s trying to tell. It has something to do with nudity. I try squinting, but that’s all I can tell from here.

A bright, clashing array of intricately painted tiles are framed throughout the room. Chaotic, yes. Neutral, no. We’ll go with chaotic good. It’s also delightful, which I’m so not in the mood for at the moment.

She tells me about the amenities, breakfast times, the famous restaurant, yada yada as she leads me up three flights of stairs, down a long, narrow hallway with many doors -- none of which are mine. I’m starting to lose my bearings, but it’s only one more flight of stairs, atop which she pauses to unlock a door. “It is good, Signore Laywees? You have the face of a dog who is whining.”

“Wow,” I say, taken aback. Taken-aback has now officially been added to my repertoire of faces. As has face of a dog who is whining.

“Did I say something in a way that is wrong?” she asks, with a worried look.

“I don’t know. You might have actually wanted to call me a whining dog.” I start to chuckle.

“Yes. Exactly. A whining dog. I remember for next time.”

I blink.

She nods, “Si, certo. Certo. And I tell you that the finest suite at Hotel di Limoni is here. You look around, you. See that there are no other doors here to this floor. You are here alone.”

“Yes. Yes, I am,” I nod and close the door behind me.

-----/-/-----

My mood disappears instantly.

Oh my god I’m in Italy.

The room before me has pale yellow walls the color of butter imported from Irish cows. That’s specific and descriptive, Lewis, nice one. (I try to encourage the writer within, whenever I can.)

Everything is in shades of sea and sky blues, bright lemon yellow, and pale Irish butter, with more of the chaotic good tiles here and there working their delightful magic. The sheets are also in pale Irish butter. I will sleep in pale Irish butter tonight. Oh yes, I will.

The overall effect is an airy room, full of light, that recedes into the background against one hell of a view.

Large french doors lining the exterior wall lead out to a private deck. One that only I and I alone can access. The doors have been thrown open, with sheer curtains rippling into the room. The breeze off the Mediterranean Sea is fresh and cool.

Oh my god. That’s the Mediterranean Sea!

Or Tyrrhenian. Whatever.

I watch as boats speed across my entire view, appearing and disappearing between the open doors. They leave their long white slashes behind them, literally left in their wake. From inside the room, they look like dashes, stuttering white lines in each window darting through the perfection of the blue Medi/Tyrrhenian Sea. Even inside the room, I feel like I’m outside.

Waking up to this is going to be amazing. She would have loved it.

“Fuck her. She can’t have it.” It’s mine, and mine alone.

——-/-/——-

Masterlist | ao3 | Prev | Next

——-/-/——-

#simon x billy #chapter 2 #the european plug situation #simon lewis #simon #billy delaney #billy #hotel locations #locations hotel #s1e2 #ch 2 #sheehanksgiving 2021 #simon is simon #location photos mine #mine #my fic #my work #my photos (sorrento) #tmi fanfic #the mortal instruments fanfic #the mortal instruments fic #simon lewis fanfic #the mortal instruments #the mortal instruments city of bones #the mortal instruments: city of bones #shadowhunters #shadowhunters fanfiction #robert sheehan #robert sheehan character fic

[crossbows-and-moonshine]

Blood in the Water (Sequel to Such a Softer Sin) Chapter 20

(Chapter 1)     (Chapter 2)     (Chapter 3)     (Chapter 4)     (Chapter 5)

(Chapter 6)     (Chapter 7)     (Chapter 8)     (Chapter 9)     (Chapter 10)

(Chapter 11)     (Chapter 12)     (Chapter 13)     (Chapter 14)

(Chapter 15)     (Chapter 16)     (Chapter 17)     (Chapter 18)

(Chapter 19)

One more chapter after this guys. There will be a third instalment around the second film, but I’ll be taking a break from this storyline for a bit. I have a few Daryl fics I need to work on so I can complete them and get them to you guys, and they’re taking priority after the next chapter of this. I really burnt myself out with this one since I started posting way before I completed it. Playing catch up so you guys don’t wait forever has drained me and I need to switch to some Daryl for a bit.

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

Lila and the boys sat in the waiting room in the hospital waiting for the scan. They were all anxious, Connor was trying to keep his cool, Murphy was fidgeting relentlessly, and Lila was silent as they waited. She felt like this was it, this was when she would find out if the baby was okay or not, there was so much riding on this. It was a little scary how much weight this moment held for them all and part of her wanted to bolt out of the door just so she didn't have to hear any bad news.

“Lila MacManus!” the woman called, causing Lilas eyes to snap to her as she felt the nerves reaching an all-time high. She swallowed thickly as she stood, the boys in tow as she went into the room.

She lay on the bed as the doctor squirted the cold jelly onto her stomach, both boys sat to her left as the doctor was to her right with the scan machine. The screen was turned away and Lila mused if that was on the off chance something was wrong with the baby, the parents wouldn't be able to see. She felt sick with how nervous she was and neither boy spoke, their usual chatty demeanour growing to an anxious silent one as they waited, watching as the doctor pushed the wand onto Lilas' belly and began moving it around, looking at the screen intently.

“Alright, everythin’s lookin’ pretty good. Both babies look healthy, you’re around 10 weeks,” the doctor smiled, pushing the screen to face them. None of them looked at it though, staring at the woman with their jaws slack.

“I’m sorry, could ye repeat that? It sounded an awful lot like ye said babies...as in more than one,” Connor said carefully.

“You're having twins, congratulations!” the doctor smiled. Lilas' eyes widened as she glanced to the screen, sure enough seeing too little babies instead of just one. Twins, fucking twins, not just one baby but two, heaven help her. Every story the boys Ma told her swirled through her head, she’d be grey in a number of years.

Murphy let out a boyish laugh of delight, so pleased with the news as he looked to his brother, a grin spreading on Connors' face. It had been a shock, but one they would gladly welcome.

“I’ll let ye have a moment and I’ll print a few pictures off for ye,” the doctor said before she got up and left the room. Lila was still in shock, staring at her two healthy babies on the screen. They were okay, they were healthy, it was more than she could have asked for and she burst into tears yet again.

“What's wrong m’girl?” Murphy asked softly, taking her hand and holding it gently.

“Just relieved,” she smiled, wiping her eyes with her spare hand as she looked at the boys, they looked so happy it felt like her heart might just explode.

“Fuckin’ twins, can ye believe that?” Murphy laughed again, beaming with radiance.

“Aye, I mean we probably should have considered the possibility, but I didn't really think about it,” Connor grinned, reaching out and rubbing Lilas leg affectionately.

“Oh, Ma’s gonna have a fuckin’ field day wit’ this one,” Murphy snorted. The mood between the three was lighter now, knowing that the baby was okay, or babies rather.

“Can we tell people yet love? Please?” Murphy pleaded as he looked at Lila, giving her his sad eyes and pouty lip. He was so excited it was honestly adorable, and now she had seen for herself that the babies were okay, she was excited herself, allowing her to start getting attached to the tiny humans inside of her belly.

“Yeah,” she beamed, making him cheer enthusiastically.

“Who are we tellin’ first?” Connor asked curiously, glancing from his brother to his girl.

“Could we tell Rocco first?” she asked carefully. She knew it wasn't exactly proper as such, they probably expected to tell their mother first or at least their father, but Rocco was family to her just like he was to the boys and they knew this, this understood why he would be the one she wanted to share the news with first.

“Sounds good te me. Then Ma I think, she could use some good news,” Connor agreed, Murphy nodded, also up for the plan. Noah would be the last of their close group to know, but in fairness, he hadn't been in the boy's life for long, it seemed natural to do it this way.

Lila sat at the dining table as she waited for Connor to grab Rocco from his part of the house. Murphy wasn't to be trusted, he had been a fidgety ball of excited energy ever since he found out they were having twins and Lila and Connor both knew if he went to get Rocco, the news would have been told before he had brought him here. The darker haired boy was pacing, chewing his thumb so much Lila thought it might disappear as she just tracked his movements with her eyes.

“Murphy! Sit the fuck down!” she huffed, he was making her nervous. He glanced at her, looking like a scolded child as he sat next to her right side. He sat still for less than a second before his fingers started drumming on the table. Lila slowly turned to him, eyes narrowing to slits.

“Murphy, I swear to God-” she started, just when Connor and Rocco bounded into the room.

“Alright, he’s here!” Connor grinned, making Murphy jump up with excitement and hug him. Rocco just stood there looking confused.

“The fucks goin’ on?” he asked, glancing between the three of them.

It had been agreed that Lila would tell him, Murphy whined like a bitch for over an hour about it so Connor told him he could be the one to tell his Ma, Connor would tell Noah.

“We have something to tell you,” Lila smiled, she was excited and nervous all rolled into one as she took out one of the many scan pictures they had printed and handed him one. Rocco's eyes widened as he took the picture, looking at it in awe and slightly emotional. It just looked like blobs to him but he knew it was a scan picture.

“You're having a baby?” he asked, a huge grin splitting his face as he looked up from the picture.

“Actually- Ow, the fuck Connor?!” Murphy whined, rubbing his head where his brother had promptly smacked him one for almost taking Lilas moment away from her. He scowled at his twin for a second before Connor gave him a pointed look and he realised.

“Sorry Lila,” he sighed, looking contrite but she couldn't help but smile at his eagerness to tell the world, it was adorable.

“It’s alright Murph, you can tell him,” she smiled warmly, reaching out and taking his hand, kissing it affectionately. His face brightened so much it hurt her heart as she watched him and Connor smiled and shook his head.

“Tell me what?” Rocco asked warily, not really understanding what else there would be to tell.

“We’re havin’ twins!” Murphy declared dramatically, laughing when Roccos face turned from confused to complete shock.

“Twins? As in two?” Rocco asked with wide eyes that went from Lila to the boys.

“No Roc, three, o’ course two ye fuckin’ idiot,” Connor snorted, making Murphy bark out a laugh. Even Lila had to bite her lip to stop from laughing at her best friends ridiculous question. Rocco didn't seem to comment on being called an idiot though, he just looked back to the scan picture as his eyes welled up and Lilas' heart ached.

“Fuck guys, why you gotta do this to me?” he whined with a sniffle, wiping his eyes. He all but shoved the boys out of the way to get to Lila, embracing her tightly as he continued to sniffle.

“I fuckin’ love you guys, man. I better be the Godfather or I’m fuckin’ shit up,” he huffed, still hugging her. The boys watched on with wide grins as he moved away and then went to them. Connor grinned and Murphy laughed as they grabbed him, giving him a big hug. It felt good to finally tell people, to get it out in the world. Next on the agenda was the boys Ma.

Lila sat in the back of the car, her fingers nervously drumming on her legs as they sat outside of Annabel's house. Lila couldn't bring herself to get out and as much as the boys wanted to, they had sat there with her until she calmed down. Murphy was once again fidgety as he sat in the back with her, unable to contain his excitement. Lila was nervous though, telling Rocco was one thing, she knew he would be happy, he had been since he found out they were trying way before all this shit started. But their Ma, that was another thing. She knew the woman liked her, but still, she was scared shitless.

“C’mon love, it’ll be fine,” Murphy soothed beside her, taking her hand in his and stroking it softly. She glanced to him worriedly and then Connor who had turned in the front seat to look at her.

“But this... it's a big deal, we’re having a baby...babies... it's serious,” she muttered, looking spooked almost.

“Are ye sure yer scared o’ tellin’ Ma or ye just scared in general sweetheart?” Connor asked carefully, taking in her wide frightened eyes. When she looked at him he felt like he already knew the answer. In all honesty, he was scared too and he knew his brother was. Lila wasn't lying when she said this was a big deal, and despite the fact they were now married, that they had been trying for a while, it felt so much more real after seeing those precious little babies on that screen earlier in the day.

She didn't answer him, she didn't want to, she just inhaled a shaky breath as Murphy continued to stroke her hand to try and calm her. After a few more moments, he felt ready to crawl out of his skin.

“Please m’girl, won't feel much better sat out here, have te tell her sometime,” he pleaded, once again the puppy eyes came out as she looked at him. He was right though, she couldn't hide out here in the car forever, they did need to tell her. She nodded, relenting as they all piled out of the car and made their way to the front door. Connor knocked before lacing his fingers with Lila, Murphy’s arm around her waist as they waited for the door to open. Once it did they were greeted by their mother, looking at them warily.

“Oh God, what have ye done now? Aren’t ye too old te be gettin’ inte trouble?” she sighed as she looked from one boy to the other. Murphy squinted, looking offended as Connor snorted.

“I’m wounded Ma, we came te see ye outta the good grace o’ our hearts and ye think we’re up te no good?” Connor asked, holding a hand over his heart in mock hurt. Lila smirked to herself and shook her head as their mother narrowed her eyes distrustfully.

“Just get in ye little shits,” she huffed, walking away and leaving the three stood there. Connor walked in first, knowing Lila was still nervous and Lila and Murphy followed in behind him.

“Da?” Connor asked shocked, seeing his father sat in the armchair. He hadn't really expected to see him there, last he checked his mother wanted to throttle him for walking out on them all. His Da just nodded with a smile in greeting at the three, Murphy looking just as shocked as his twin about him being there. They knew better not to say anything though, if their parents were getting on with each other, it wasn't exactly a bad thing. It also made it easier, killing two birds with one stone as it were. The trio sat on the couch as Annabel took the next armchair near Noah.

“So...We got ye somethin’!” Murphy grinned deviously and it did little to ease the fact their Ma thought they were up to something.

“Close yer eyes, and hold ye hands out, you too Da,” Connor smirked, making both their parents glance to each other warily. They complied though, closing their eyes as instructed and holding out their hands. Murphy put a scan picture in his mother's hands whilst Connor put one in their fathers. Lila chewed her thumb nervous as she watched, a habit she had picked up from the darker twin, and she was grateful when Connor once again laced his fingers with hers and Murphy wrapped an arm around her, they both needed to feel her, touch her and feel support themselves if they were honest.

Annabel and Noah opened their eyes, landing them on the scan pictures. Noahs face lit up, a bright smile on the usually stoic man and Annabel looked almost in shock, actually speechless for a brief second.

“Twins?” she asked, her usually loud and brash voice a mere whisper as she looked at the boys. They nodded, huge grins plastered on their faces and the older woman gasped, her hand covering her heart. She carefully set the scan picture down on the coffee table before standing up, making her way over.

“Come on, give us a hug sweetheart,” she smiled, teary eyes as she gestured to Lila. The boys looked utterly offended as their Ma got Lila to her feet and embraced her tightly.

“What the fuck is wit’ everyone huggin’ Lila first?” Connor asked with a huff.

“Aye, and our own Ma, what a disgrace.” Murphy scoffed, but the twinkle of mischief in the boys' eyes showed no real issue there, they were just being their usual selves. Noah stood up then and the boys instinctively stood too.

“Me boys have turned inte men. Make sure ye take care o’ her and the wee babes.” Noah said sternly as he hugged boy boys at the same time.

“Aye Da.” They replied in unison, smiles on their faces as they hugged back.

“Well, I think this calls for a celebration.” Annabel declared after all the emotional hugging was over.

“Fuickin’ hell Ma, ye think anythin’ calls for a celebration.” Murphy snorted, wincing when he got a clout around the ear. Connor smirked at him smugly and Murphy sneered at him.

“Nothin’ wrong wit’ celebratin’ ye little shit. And this definitely calls for one.” She beamed, looking so over the moon about the whole thing.

It went as good as they thought it would, they knew their parents would be happy for them. They were having twins, sure it was scary but they wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere than right where they were in that moment. With their girl and their family, telling them the best news in the fucking world. Their fathers promise bounced around their brains and they knew what he was getting at, since Noah himself had upped and left. They knew the man had his reasons and they had forgiven him for that, so had their Ma by all accounts since they were in the same room voluntarily and she wasn’t trying to throttle him, and there was no chance in hell they would ever leave Lila and the babies. They made that mistake last time, and they wouldn't want to be away from them anyway. They were having a little family of their own, and it was odd for them to think of the lives they lead before the redhead came into them. No serious girls, no want for one, no thoughts of children. It wasn't that their thoughts on the matters had changed, it was all Lila. Meeting Lila, falling in love with her, that had been the moment they wanted those things because they wanted them with her, no one else. She was it for them, and they had known that subconsciously from the first time they had seen her soaked in McGintys. And now, here they were, married and expecting not one baby but two, getting everything they never even knew they wanted and more. They wouldn't change a fucking thing.

Taglist; @risingphoenix761 @daryldixonandfrogs @arlaina28 @divadinag @keeperofwonderlandus

#boondock saints #boondock saints fanfic #murphy macmanus #murphy macmanus fanfic #connor macmanus #connor macmanus fanfic

[dr-edits-fanart-and-imagines]

can i have mondo, ishimaru, leon, komaeda, souda, gundam, korekiyo, and gonta with an s/o who's usually SUPER positive like 90% of the time and powering through their depression with only some off days, suddenly be a paranoid sensitive mess and distrust everything anyone says like "I love you" "you're the best" even though they knows it's true and have literal of weeks, sorry if this is long and exceeds any limit or breaks any rules. i'm just havin a shite time my guys

Ok, I’m gonna be dead serious about this particular ask, because this totally describes me as a person. I’m sorry to all of you Anons who did previous requests earlier than this one, but I can’t help it. I just need to do this one. I’m sorry about you feeling down lately dear Anon. I’m feeling down myself too, so I understand you relying on these horrible messes of imagines I make. But don’t worry, I tried my best with this ask, because my only goal with this particular request is to make you feel better. Please get well soon Anon, remember I’m here for you :D (i cried with these yo)

~Mod Junko~

Mondo Oowada

Mondo adores your jumpy and bubbly side

That’s what he loves the most about you

So after realizing that you had depression

He was kind of amazed on how outgoing you were

Despite your condition

One day, you just broke

Even worse, in front of the class

Most of them kept complimenting you and telling you that there was nothing wrong with you

You refuesd all of those comments while crying harder

After class, Mondo was at your home

And you asked him if he really loved you

He was very surprised by the question

So he just embraced you

And he whispered something that made you cry out of pure happiness

“s/o… I fucking love you, so much. You have no idea how much I love you. Even if you don’t believe me. I’m just so glad of having someone so wonderfully strong as you. I just, love you.”

Then he started peppering your face with kisses while complimenting you after each kiss

You were surprised by how such meaninful words could come out of a biker gang leader

You decided not to question it and enjoy the embrace

Kiyotaka Ishimaru

This guy right here

Kiyotaka LOVES you, SO MUCH

He always demonstrates it to you when he has the chance

The only time he doesn’t

Is in public

And this happens often

This kinda bothers you a bit

So one day you just ask him why he does that

He explains himself by saying that as a moral compass, he sets the example of a proper relationship

And that he was taught that PDA was inappropriate

You start apologizing

 And then you said something that surprised him

“It’s just sometimes I think that you’re just dating me out of pity. And all of those compliments are nothing but jokes. N-no wonder y-you t-t-think showing affection t-to m-me i-is not… Is not..!”

And you broke crying

Kiyotaka totally understands you, he’s not pretty good with his emotions either

So he just holds you while rubbing your back soothingly

He just waits for you to calm down, until you’re ready to talk to him

You really don’t say anyhting, so he just cuddles with you until you fall asleep

You fall asleep with a smile on your face

Leon Kuwata

Compared to Kiyotaka, Leon is never afraid of showing affection to you

He’s kind of protective tho

If he gets a feeling of someone giving you a look he doesn’t like

He’ll either get the fuck out of there

Or he’ll confront them right them and there

You totally misunderstand his intentions of protecting you

And you ask him about it

“Leon, what am I for you?”

He doesn’t know why you’re even asking him about it

“You’re my s/o. What else? Why do you ask that?”

“Well it’s just. You’re just so possesive of me sometimes. I can just help but think that I’m just something like a trophy for you..”

And you broke down, sobbing loudly

Leon whispers you name with tears in his eyes

And he starts apologizing A LOT

“No, no, no, no, no. That’s not it, s/o! I’m so sorry if you think that, I just get a bad sensation about things sometimes! But I’m wrong, I’m always wrong and you’re right! I’m just stupid!”

“You’re not stupid, Leon!”

With tears clouding his vision, he pulls you for a tight hug

Repeating “I’m sorry” over and over again

So you just embrace each other, comforting words exchanged back and forth between you two

Nagito Komaeda

The moment he met you, he fell in love with you

For trash someone like him, it was easy for him know someone’s personality

And your cheerful nature on the outside, gave him the sensation that something was happening to you on the inside

So when you two started dating, he proved his theory right

It worried him a bit that you were so closed about your negative feelings

So he asked you about it, one day

You were at Nagito’s room, cuddling

When he asked something that alarmed you

“s/o, is something wrong?”

Immediately, tears started froming in your eyes

And you hid your face in his chest

This is the reaction he hoped to get away from you

He knows you compressed your emotions too much

And that you just needed to let go

Nagito shushed you while whispering sweet nothings to you

Some of them about your beauty, some of them about how much he loved you

And sometimes he didn’t even talk, and just placed a random kiss on your hair

You cried yourself to sleep, but you didn’t feel sad or alarmed anymore

Nagito just knew what was happening to you, and he just knew how to fix it

That was enough for you to know that he really loved you

Kazuichi Souda

Unfortunately, Kazuichi would be totally unaware of your depression at first

He’d be so in love with your quirky and cheerful personality that he’d never notice

Until that one day

You were feeling pretty down

And you straight up told him that you had depression

This triggered something inside him

He started to be more cautious of what he says

He was worried sick about what you had told him

This made you feel strange

He was usually so carefree around you, now he was worried about everything related to you

You ask him about it

He doesn’t say anything, he’s afraid of what will come out

“Heh. I knew it.”

He was confused by your statement

“You must think I’m so stupid that you’re so scared of me screwing things up and you must watch over me all the time. Sad, isn’t it?”

And you started sobbing

Not loudly, but it was hurful for Kazuichi nontheless

He felt the tears that started running down his cheeks

And pulled you for a hug

He just started whispering that he loved you, and how wonderful you were

Even with the thought of him protecting you just because he thought you were stupid

A part of you though he just wanted to protect you because he loved you

You were relieved to know he really did love you and you had nothing to worry about

With a soft smile, you whispered a “thank you” to him

Kazuichi stopped talking for a moment, and kissed you lovingly

Gundham Tanaka

You were not exactly “Dark Queen/King/Monarch material”, as mortals put it

But there was something about your positive nature that enamoured Gundham

Your mesmerizing personality was almost bewitching

And he absolutely adored it

What he didn’t expect however, was the unnerving aura that surrounded you when you two started courting

It wasn’t the kind of darkness that he was fond of 

This was more of an alarming amount of dread

He had a severely morbid sensation about this aura

And questioned you if you had noticed it as much as he did

You did not understand what he meant by aura

Does he mean your depression?

You explain that you sometimes felt alone, even surrounded by people

You felt hated, even while being showered by compliments

Your heart was aching, even if it was filled with love

What Gundham did surprised you

He gently brushed his hand against yours, and he squeezed it lovingly

“s/o. You are the most enticing mortal I’ve laid my eyes upon. You’re one for captivating others with your sublime manners and gorgeous attributes. I see no objective in you speaking in such a cold-blooded manner to yourself. So I will just continue to comply to your wishes and stay by your side whenever you need it the most, my beloved.”

You were speechless

You had no idea Gundham was capable of such beautiful talk

So, with tears dried and a full smile, you embraced him

Whispering how much you thank him for loving you

Korekiyo Shinguuji

As much as the human body in general enticed Korekiyo

And he did love your stunning body

But your personality, being what standed out the most for you

Was just as charming

And that’s what made you a perfect human specimen for him

When he noticed about your low self-esteem

He absolutely knew what to do about it

Korekiyo suddenly brought your depressing nature to the conversation out of nowhere

Right before you could start complaining about yourself

“My dear s/o. You don’t need to explain your reasons of your pitiless nature. I’m well aware of that. But there is no need for you to worry about the amount of love I hold for you. I assure you, there is no absolute way on how to describe it. But if you really want to know, I might as well show you, shouldn’t I?”

And he pulled you for a deep and delightful kiss

It was more meaningful than anything

And just how Korekiyo said, it was enough to prove how much he loved you

Gonta Gokuhara

He is SO IN LOVE WITH YOU

You’re so cute it makes him feel all giddy and fuzzy

Not even when you’re dating

But when you started dating for real

happy gonta (once again, ripped off from another dr imagines blog)

But you surprised him

When one day he found you crying

He was immediately by your side, asking you what was wrong

Gonta did nothing wrong, did he?!

You tell him he’s done nothing.

In fact, it’s you the one who’s wrong

You started insulting yourself, stuttering and hiccuping beacuse of your crying

You were cut off short by a frantic and sobbing Gonta hugging you

Not tightly, to make sure not to hurt you

“s/o, please stop telling Gonta about those things. If s/o feel bad about themselves, that make Gonta feel bad too. Gentlemen must take care of thier s/o right? Then Gonta make sure s/o not sad about themselves! Gonta make s/o feel special and loved! Because Gonta loves s/o, and s/o loves Gonta. And Gonta wants to be with s/o no matter what. Will s/o let Gonta help?”

Never have you heard something so pure and meaningful in your life

So you faced him

And kissed him sweetly

He kissed back gently, hugging you closer to him

Gonta took that as a yes

He felt tears in his eyes again

You did too

But you both had nothing to worry about right now. You had each other

And that was the only thing that mattered right now

#mod junko #danganronpa #mondo owada #kiyotaka ishimaru #leon kuwata #nagito komaeda #kazuichi souda #gundham tanaka #korekiyo shinguuji #gonta gokuhara #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa headcanons

[boarix]

Wraith in the Ruins: A Fallout 4 Story Part II

Redemption in You

Trigger warnings: canon language/drug use. PTSD/angst/self-harm.

Game spoilers

Please enjoy!

 MacCready had just returned from long patrol and in spite of being exhausted, he had insisted on being included in Wraith’s meeting with Hancock and Preston. Touting himself as the foremost expert on the Gunners, he had argued that his input would be “invaluable”. And yet, the young man was sprawled, fast asleep, the full length of Wraith’s office couch, covered by a furry Dogmeat blanket, contributing nothing but the occasional loud snore.

“I don’t think we can wait much longer!” Wraith was in a fury over the latest settlement attack. “They gain in numbers almost daily and I feel like I’m helping them. Every raider boss the Minutemen cut down just adds to the Gunners’ recruitment options.” She had stood up from her desk and was pacing and gesticulating as if she was conducting an orchestra, “If we don’t do something soon they will have every ex-raider in the Commonwealth, rank and file against us!”

“General, we simply don’t have the people.”

Preston’s repeated protest wore thin on Wraith’s nerves. Mostly because she knew that he was right. “They are growing much faster than we are.” She leaned forward across her desk and focused her laser gaze on the ghoul, “Hancock, if we were to attempt a direct assault, how many Neighborhood Watch could we count on from you?”

“Can’t believe I’d be the one to preach caution but, Preston is right.” Cocking his head to the side he returned her stare unflinchingly, “You know I hate to tell ya ‘no’ but, there is no way I’m gonna send my people to the grinder. That’s what it’d end up being sister, a huge, fucking bloody mess. The risk ain’t worth the reward, you feel me? Fahrenheit has been on my ass about learnin’ some patience…” He trailed off, shaking his head.  

“Then I’ll go myself! I have some power armor…” Loud, howling protests from Preston, Hancock and Dogmeat cut her off and she plopped heavily into her chair.

“Now wait a minute, we’ve been through this one-woman-army bullshit! MacCready! Wake the fuck up and back us up here!”

“Mmmmugh… You can’t go and kill yourself. Don’t be stupid.” MacCready had turned his head and was attempting to glare at her past Dogmeat’s panting muzzle, “What’s the point of havin’ a inner circle if you won’t listen to us?”

Wraith stood back up, waved her hands toward the ceiling and turned her back to them in a flurry of impotent anger. Spinning back around, mouth open for rebuttal, she was cut off by a knock on the door.

“Excusez-moi, madam.” Curie opened the door and stuck her head in, “Ze sun is setting and Monsieur Danse did not return with the rest of the work crew.”

“Danse was assigned to the morning shift. Are you sure he didn’t return earlier and he isn’t just in his room?”

“Non madame, a crew member just informed me that he’s been out all day.”

“Shit.” Wraith quickly skirted her desk, shooting what she hoped was an authoritative look at the three men as she headed to the door, “This discussion is tabled, not over.”

“You want me along sister?” Hancock had started to follow her out.

“No, you stay and babysit.”

MacCready flipped her off, “Ha! Up yours!”

 Wraith had Curie run back to her clinic to grab a field med pack as she speed walked to one of Sanctuary’s warehouses. As she reached for the lantern she was after, Deacon’s face flashed in her mind.

No! No time for you. Go away! You weren’t my friend; just using me to defeat your enemies for you. Not my friend!

Waiting outside, Curie handed Wraith a ballistic weave Minutemen trench. She had, once again, been about to run off to possible danger while wearing nothing but a flannel and jeans. Smiling her thanks and shrugging into the coat, she reached out for the med pack. When it wasn’t immediately surrendered she waved her hand up and down with impatience.

“I should go with you madame.” Curie’s notoriously cheerful tone had been replaced with something bordering on scolding, “I should go to make sure you are both…”

“No, Baby Bird; this is a solo mission.” Taking the pack she turned back and forced a cheerful smile as she walked away, “We’ll be just fine.”

This should have been handled a while ago you fucking coward. You told yourself that you were giving him time apart to think, to come to terms with his new reality, when really you were just too scared to face him.

Jogging across the small bridge and up the hill toward the vault, she was once again confronted by a mental image of an unmistakably sad Deacon.

Why did he make that face? Because, you dummy, he’s a liar and a very good actor! He was never your friend and there was never any chance of being more… Stop obsessing; you have Danse to worry about right now.

Cresting the hill, she could hear the unmistakable sound of an ax chopping wood. As she navigated the broken ground and brush the sound continued almost unceasingly. There was a rhythm to the “thunk” sound and it wore on her already frayed nerves.

Danse was a visually impressive individual: tall, traditionally handsome with an impeccable physique. When she finally spotted him, her first thoughts were in line with admiring his form while swinging the ax. He looked pretty damn fine. However, as she moved closer she could see flecks of blood all over his white t-shirt and it was dripping freely down his arms. Swinging an ax all day had ripped the palms of his hands open and yet he continued as if oblivious to the injury.

His mental state decidedly questionable, Wraith decided to pop Buffout, just in case the situation became physical. “Danse? Hey, stop for a sec.” He continued on as if she wasn’t there. “DANSE, STOP!” Nothing. It wasn’t that he was ignoring her, more like he couldn’t hear her. She stepped behind him and deftly disarmed him, sweeping the ax behind her back.

The response was savage: whipping around while snarling, he raised his bloody hands and flexed his fingers like claws. His face a twisted mask of rage, he bore a striking resemblance to a yao guai.

Despite the threat, Wraith took a step toward him while yelling up at his face, “What the fuck are you doing?! Look at your hands! Danse?!”

“M7-97.” In an instant all emotions fled from his face and his eyes became dispassionate and empty.

“What?”

“M7-97. ‘Danse’ does not exist.” His shoulders sagged somewhat and he wouldn’t look into her eyes. “I was instructed to process this fallen tree for lumber. I am completing my assigned task.”

Taking a deep breath, Wraith tried again, “Danse, look at your hands. Don’t they hurt?”

“It is inconsequential data. A damage prevention signal…”

“THAT’S WHAT PAIN IS, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!” In her anger, Wraith threw the ax, rather artfully, into a nearby tree. The Buffout, combined with her own considerable strength, resulted in the tool being completely embedded in the trunk.

Well… shit. Stupid. Violent and stupid.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she counted to 10 and tried again, “You are an organic being, not a Mr. Gutsy. You need to eat and drink and rest. Danse, you’re bleeding and sweating, how many robots that you know of do those things?” Hoping to elicit some sort of emotion, even if it was anger, Wraith was intentionally crass, “I know for a fact that you take dumps! How many protectrons are there who shit?”

“DANSE DOES NOT EXIST!” His face was florid in his anger. He took a menacing step toward her but then suddenly swayed on his feet and would have fallen had Wraith not caught him.

Gently lowering him to a stump, she steadied him with one hand while removing a canteen from her pack. “Tilt your head back.” For a moment she thought that she would have to somehow fight the water into him but thankfully he complied. As he drank involuntary tears filled his eyes. “That’s it, nice and slow.”

When the canteen was empty, Wraith kicked a split log next to Danse’s stump and plopped down. “I’m going to field dress your hands now. When I’m done I want you to drink some more water and eat something.”

His eyes were empty again and he didn’t fight or acknowledge her as she worked. Cleaning and wrapping his large hands she was overcome by self-deprecation as her mind ground her down. She couldn’t stop thinking about how sad Deacon had looked, or that when she returned from Goodneighbor, Curie had barely spoken to her and seemed to be slightly scared of her.

Did Deacon talk to her before he left? Did something happen? Did he… would he have hurt himself? No. That doesn’t make sense. And now… poor Danse... I scare and ruin and I’m so LOUD and mean!

Despite her best efforts she started to cry. “I’m so sorry Danse! This is all my fault. I should have been there for you but instead I avoided you like a fucking coward!”

“No.”

Her eyes were on his in a flash. He looked away but she could tell he had returned. “Yes Danse, I completely destroyed your life. I literally burned it to the ground!” She was sobbing now, her face in her hands, “I killed all your friends!”

“My friends?! You mean all those people who immediately turned their backs on me? Who wanted me dead?! Who… who thought that I was… was a spy? Who thought that I knew?! And that everything I had ever done for them was a lie to further some Institute agenda?!” Danse had stood up but wobbled on his last few words and he sat down rather heavily.

“Not all of them. Haylen didn’t.  She pleaded with me to spare you.”

“She… she did?” Surprised, he leaned toward her.

“Yes, which is one of the reasons I didn’t kill her.” Wraith stood up to pace, “I scared the shit out of her, I’m sure, but I didn’t kill her. When Hancock and I boarded the Prydwen, I grabbed her and told her she needed to round-up all of the squires and as many of the fucking cats she could find and get off the ship. I told her to pack them into a vertibird and go back to the Capital Wasteland. God knows I have enough on my conscience…” She trailed off once she realized Danse was crying. Not an involuntary watering of the eyes but a real emotive response.

“Thank God!” He had brought his wrapped hands to his face and was openly sobbing into them.

Wraith didn’t know what to do. She wanted to hug him but felt she didn’t have the right. Sitting back down, she reached out and rather awkwardly patted his shoulder. To her surprise, he grabbed her and pulled her into a crushing embrace.

“I don’t know who or what I am! What am I supposed to do now?!” He cried into her shoulder as Wraith patted his back. After a few moments he released her, Wraith passed him another canteen and the two sat sniffling as he drank. “Ugh. I’ve been so rude to your ghoul.”

Wraith cocked an eyebrow, “You’re going to have to be more specific, Danse. My friends are quite lovely people and a lot like potato crisps; you can’t have just one.”

“I’m sorry. I’m still being rude… the mayor… Hancock.”

“Well… just lose a couple of hands of Poker to him and I’m sure all will be forgiven.” Although she was joking Wraith figured an honestly repentant Danse would get considerable traction with the ghoul.

“Oh, of course, he gambles.”

Wraith rolled her eyes at his tone, “With our group we normally bet chores rather than caps; Mac hates doing dishes.”

“Why… why did you join the Brotherhood? You declined in Cambridge. What made you change your mind?” He had been looking at the canteen in his hands but now moved his eyes to Wraith, “Did the Railroad send you… did you just…”

“That’s actually pretty complicated.” Wraith frowned at her feet while trying to decide how much to tell him. How much would he even believe? “I did it to save you.”

When Danse’s face clouded over with doubt and confusion, Wraith’s explanation tumbled out of her in a hurried rush of words, “In Sanctuary there is a woman. She knows things… things that she should have no way of knowing. She told me that there was a ‘soul lost in steel’ and only I could ‘lead them home’.” Wraith returned her eyes to his, “At first I thought that she meant Maxson. That’s why I tried so hard with him. It took me a while to see that there was no saving him.”

“He is dead then? Arthur?” His tone was resigned.

“Yes.” Wraith didn’t flinch or look away, “He was dead before the charges went.”

“You…” He swallowed, “It was you then?” There was pain in his tawny eyes.

“No. I had intended to but lost control. Hancock killed Maxson.” There was no regret in her voice. As far as she was concerned he was a fanatical monster and completely irredeemable.

Monster. How many would say the same about me?

They sat quietly, lost in their heads, as Danse finished off the second canteen. It was fully dark now and for a time they listened to the eerie sounds of a Commonwealth spring night.

Wraith stood up and lit the lantern and began rummaging through the med pack, “There should be jerky and sweet leather in here…”

“Sweet leather?”

“Yeah, it’s mashed up mutfruit, corn and carrots, boiled down, dried and then cut into strips. It’s really tasty. In fact, we have to keep an eye on MacCready while we’re making it cause batches have a way of ‘disappearing’. Here we go!” Wraith handed him the sweet leather first and watched in amusement as Danse made an involuntary “BOS-new-thing-scary” face.

After the first hesitant bite he smiled, “It’s softer than I thought.”

Wraith returned to her log and passed him some jerky, “Danse, I think we can help each other a great deal, if you feel that you can trust me.”

“I trust you.” He said it softly and gave her a sad smile.

“I would like to move you to the clinic.”

“What! Why?!” He noted her more formal tone and was immediately on guard.

“I thought you said you trusted me.” She gave him a smile that she hoped was gentle, “There are plenty of available rooms and Curie is almost always there. She isn’t a psychologist as far as I know but she is a capable doctor. She is also kind and sweet and soothing to be around. She’s like a balm.”

Danse had stopped eating so Wraith pantomimed the action to remind him: taking an imaginary bite and nodding when he mirrored her. It was a very motherly thing to do and it touched him. Chewing and smiling he had an odd thought about how much Wraith reminded him of Haylen.

“I’ll be close too; my office and house are right next door. As to who you are and what you’re supposed to do… well… I have some ideas but that can wait. Moving forward from this will be hard. You are going to fall. You’re going to have days when even getting out of bed will seem the greatest of challenges. Curie and I will be there for you but you’re going to have to steady yourself as well. Taking responsibility for your past and facing the consequences of your actions will require massive fortitude but I believe you’re up to the task.”

Wraith offered him a huge encouraging smile, “Starting tomorrow you’ll be with me. I have a huge walk-in freezer project that I’d like to get done before summer. There will be lots of physical work for you. I also would like to get at least a small unit set up for Curie before her next semester starts.”

“Semester?”

“I have Curie training field medics for the Minutemen. She also insists on my core group being trained. That includes you FYI.” Wraith began tallying items up on her hands as she spoke, “The lumber project, the mill, Mac wants more sand bags behind the practice targets before his spring semester starts, he’s been bugging me about watchtowers too. Oh, and I want a better road cut out…” She made a vague circle gesture with her hand, “here.”

“MacCready’s semester?”

“Yes. I have Mac teaching sniper school and basic gun skills to… well pretty much everyone.” Wraith sighed: 101 projects and only one her.

“MacCready teaches… people?”

Danse’s incredulity made Wraith chuckle, “Believe it or not, that kid has a vast amount of skill and knowledge. Folks get used to his… brusqueness. Oh, please don’t tell him I called him ‘kid’ again; for some reason it really pisses him off.”

“You can’t be that much older than him.” He hurried on when her eyebrows popped up, “I mean besides the two hundred years spent frozen.”

“Danse, I was thirty-eight when I became a meat popsicle.”

Shocked, Danse looked at her as if for the first time. He had never seen her with long hair as she had worn it buzzed but there didn’t seem to be any trace of grey. Her light green eyes, although frequently sad and tired weren’t framed by crow’s feet either, “Well, you are remarkably well preserved.”

She snorted in amusement, “Flash freezing is the way to go.”

Waving his bandaged, mitten hands, he looked mortified, “No! No, that isn’t what I meant!”

Standing and stretching, she gave a regretful glance to the ax before repacking the med kit. “I know what you meant and that’s kind of you. You ready to go home?” She held her hands out to him and to his surprise he needed her help to stand up.

 The next couple of weeks were filled with highs and lows for Danse. In one moment he looked to the future with hope and in the next he dwelt on his past with despair. Curie was God-send: her gentle positivity a perfect counterbalance to Wraith’s sometimes harsh, “accountability=reality” take on life.

Then after having several good days in a row, an emergency broadcast from Radio Freedom threw a wrench into his recovery. There had been an accident at the Castle and Preston was critically injured.

“He just got back for fuck’s sake!” Wraith was in a flurry of motion and within 20 minutes, she, MacCready, Curie and Dogmeat were jogging out of Sanctuary. “Danse, you’ll be okay.” She had stopped to give him a reassuring hug, “Sofie has all the task lists and Hancock will be back in a week or so to pick up a load of freezer parts. Sturges has everything labeled and set aside in warehouse B.” She took his hand in hers and gave it a squeeze, “We will be back as soon… Soon.”

MacCready’s helpful advice was less conciliatory, “Try not to burn the place down, tin can.”

 Then they were gone.

Sofie, a tiny ghoulette, was the village head whenever Wraith was away. Standing next to Danse she barely reached past his waist. “Don’t worry honey; they’ll be back before you know it.”

He tried to keep busy. He focused on the big watch tower (Wraith had already named it “Big Mac’s Nest” and although MacCready had scoffed at the name, his huge smile told on him). Mostly, Danse hated going back to the clinic at night. All alone in the large house, his mind would start cranking out little nightmares to torture him. After 3 days of trying to work himself to unthinking exhaustion, he reverted back to robot mode. Speaking only when asked a direct question, if at all, he went about his duties with as much life and enthusiasm as a plastic toy.

Sofie had been warned to make sure that he ate and she took it seriously. She would sit with him after bringing him food but neither spoke and she wasn’t even sure that he knew she was there.

When Hancock and his provisioner Bossy arrived in Sanctuary the ghoul made a bee-line for Wraith’s office. After speaking briefly with Sofie he headed over to the watchtower looking for Danse.

“He’s not here.” The foreman seemed irritated, “He hit himself with a hammer and was just staring at it. He was freaking me out, so I told him to go and take a break. Check down by the river.”

“I just fucking walked across the goddamn Commonwealth…” The ghoul continued to mumble irritably as he made his way back through town. When Hancock spotted him, Danse was standing under the big bridge and staring at a tire as it bobbed through the water. “Hey crew-cut, I have a present for ya.”

Danse turned from the river, his eyes dispassionate, “Hancock.”

“Uh, yeah, that’d be me. Whatcha lookin’ at?”

“Nothing.”

“Well, that’s fascinating. Here, check this out.” Hancock maintained a rather forced smile as he handed the large man a book on medieval armor and weapons. Although the cover was worn, the tome was in remarkable condition, all things considered. “There’s some cool knives and swords in there too.”

Looking down at the book then looking back at Hancock, Danse seemed to thaw, “Why?”

“Well, shit kid, I figured you’d like it.”

“No. That’s not what I meant. Why would you give me anything but your scorn?” His eyes narrowed in mistrust, Danse took a step backward while holding the book at arm’s length. “I have never been anything but rude to you! Why would you even speak to me, let alone give me a gift?”

Hancock lifted his arms, palms up, to appear as non-threating as possible, “Never thought giving someone something thoughtful would be met with this level of resistance. I have another copy, for one. And two, Wraith trusts and likes you a whole lot. For me, that carries a ton of weight.” Hancock’s tone became softer, almost gentle, “She handed you the strand of thread and it’ll be interesting to see what you do with it.”

“I’m sorry… Strand of thread?”

“She gave you a piece that you never had before and as you pull it, all that bullshit that you’ve been told, all the lies and hate, it’ll unravel. That small reality you’re left with? That’s something you can build on. Something true.” Hancock’s gentle smile was genuine now, “I know one or two things ‘bout turnin’ over a new leaf and trying to find redemption. It takes time son, so give yourself a break.” Hancock watched the rippling emotions cross Danse’s face then turned and walked away. “I’m going to help Bossy load up all that junk. You should come help us.”

 Danse was reading in his room a week later when someone knocked on his door. Answering, he was so shocked to see Wraith he stood frozen, speechless and blinking.

“Um… hi Danse. You okay?”

“Yeah. Yes! Hi!”

Laughing a little, she pointed to the book, “I see Hancock decided to give it to you after all.”

“Yes. Yes he did. He and I talked as well. I think… we might be friends now?”

Wraith’s warm smile spoke volumes, “I’m happy for you both. Would you like to go for a walk with me?”

Wraith filled Danse in on Preston as they headed toward the Sanctuary warehouses. Soon after returning to the Castle, he had been crushed between two brahmin. “I’m so glad we had some of Curie’s students there. He would have died had they not started treatment right away.”

Stopping in front of warehouse C, Wraith undid the padlock, then adopting her formal “General” voice she turned to Danse, “I’m fortunate to have friends like MacCready and Curie who are able to teach the Minutemen and anyone willing, these important survival skills. I’m hoping, Danse, that you might also help the Commonwealth in much the same way.” She opened the door and made an “after you” gesture before following him inside and flipping the light switch.

Danse had never been inside C. From the outside it was clearly the biggest of the three and had two huge generators hooked up outside. As the lights flashed on he could see why: the entire space was filled with power armor.

“Sturges and I have been working on my little… collection, but we don’t have the expertise that you possess.” Smiling sadly, Wraith crossed her arms like she was hugging herself, “Nate would have loved this. I think he would have liked you a lot too. You remind me of him sometimes.”

Danse ripped his eyes from the treasure trove in front of him. Blushing, he cleared his throat, “You… you want me to teach the Minutemen to use power armor?”

“Yes. I realize it’ll take some time. We are short on people and some of these units are in pretty bad shape. With you helping us with acquisition and training, in maintenance and tactics, we can avoid a lot of trial-and-error.”

Danse had been wandering the room like a kid in a candy store when he came to a dead stop in front of a familiar set of T-60d armor. “This… this is mine?!” He placed his hands on the breastplate, “How did you get this?”

“Maxson gave it to me.” Her mouth twisted in disgust, “It was a reward for my loyalty. Danse, I kept it for you. Regardless of what you decide it’s still your armor.” She followed him as he explored. “You wouldn’t have to actually join the Minutemen; Mac didn’t. Your knowledge can help us as a consultant. If you do decide to join I will appoint you a suitable rank as an officer of the Minutemen Cavalry.”

Danse couldn’t help but smile, “Cavalry?”

“I haven’t nailed down a name yet but I want to incorporate ‘Dragoon’ into it. I have to keep with the revolutionary theme after all.”

Continuing his exploration, Danse gave a low whistle when the Quantum X-01 suit came into view.

Wraith leaned against his arm, “Nice, huh? That one is for you too, once again, regardless of your choice. I want you to know that whatever you decide, I’m your friend and you will have a home here in Sanctuary.”

Shaking his head in disbelief, Danse put his arms around her, his voice cracking with emotion, “I will follow you and help you with whatever you need, my friend… my General.”      

 Thank you so much for reading! Like what you read? Looking for more? Please see my master link located under my bio. I will be updating and re-posting the master as well. Please consider reblogging, I could us the signal boost. As always my ask is open (anon too) if you have any questions/concerns/comments. =^..^=

#wraith in the ruins #fallout #fallout 4 #fallout 4 fanfic #hancock #john hancock #fallout 4 john hancock #maccready #rj maccready #fallout 4 maccready #preston garvey #fallout dogmeat #paladin danse #danse #fallout danse #fallout 4 hancock fanfic #maccready fanfic #danse fanfic

[axemetaphor]

One-Shot

Length: Roughly 1,700 words

Universe: Demolition Lovers AU

Rating: PG-13 for depressing themes

Pairing: Scourge the Hedgehog / Shadow the Hedgehog

Context: Scourge and Shadow are spending the night in Shadow's apartment when Shadow has a very vivid dream of his time on the ARK. They've only just recently started dating at this point in time.

Notes:

I challenged myself to only proofread this once before posting (bc I usually proofread a billion times), so, that's half the reason this exists.

I wrote this at 3AM yesterday when I was really sad in an attempt to cheer myself up. I hope y'all enjoy it and please forgive any typos/formatting errors! I'm uploading from mobile.

Constructive criticism appreciated!

Shadow sits up abruptly, eyes widening in surprise as he registers his surroundings, for a moment still believing he's in the ARK of his dreams. Once he realizes that no, he has not in fact woken up fifty years ago in the haven he wishes he’d never had to leave, a strange sort of sorrow descends, hanging over his shoulders like a heavy wool quilt, and it forces a sigh from his lungs. The sound dissolves quickly in his apartment; traffic noise drifts in through the open window as if guided to his ears by the moonlight and neon signs.Scourge is lying beside him, facing the window, immobile. Probably sleeping. He droops, looking down at his hands, wishing for the sterile silence of the ARK, for the company of those who made him, for the warm and happy memories he only carries fragments of. So much in his life has changed since then. Is he even the same person as before? Would Maria even recognize him if she saw him today?

A teardrop falls to his palm. He stares at it, empty, as more pour from his eyes. He can’t even understand why he’s crying, he just feels so horrible. A hiccuping sob escapes him and he lifts his hands to his face, shaking. He can’t seem to stop himself, to control his breathing, to calm down and clear his mind. His stomach twists and he curls in on himself, biting his lip roughly in an attempt to quiet himself; behind him he hears something shift and he freezes. The mattress dips slightly, closer than it had been before, and he sniffles, trying to quickly pull himself together.

Unfortunately whatever sort of structure he built in those two seconds immediately crumbles as a soft hand comes to rest ever so delicately on his back, right between the two spines. He sobs harder, resolve dissolving as he curls up, and Scourge gently rubs his back, silently letting him cry. After what feels like an eternity, his tears lessen, and he slowly unfolds, wiping his face off until, eventually, he can face his boyfriend. He turns wordlessly, looking down.

Scourge is sitting with his legs folded, crossed, one hand resting in his lap. Shadow is supported by one arm, knees bent and legs lying sideways, free hand still swiping at his eyes. “You, uh,” Scourge starts, voice thick with sleep; he clears his throat and starts over, much clearer now. “D’you… wanna talk ‘bout it?” His ears perk, eyes searching Shadow’s face. The dark hedgehog doesn’t respond, still avoiding his gaze, and Scourge lets his hand drop from Shadow’s back. “It’s a’ight if ya don’t.”

Finally he speaks. “It wasn’t anything bad, not like last time.” He lifts his head and shifts position, turning his whole body to sit facing Scourge, legs tucked beneath him. The green hedgehog says nothing, sitting patiently. “It… It was a good memory.” He falls silent again, staring down at his hands folded in his lap.

“Yeah?” Scourge prompts gently, ears angled towards Shadow. The dark hedgehog perks up as if startled, clearly already lost in his own head again.

He takes a deep breath before continuing. “Back on the ARK, I—” his eyes skate to the window impulsively—“Things were, things were...simpler. Maybe not better. But easier.” He pauses, ears drooping. Clouds drift across the moon, casting a darker blue hue to the room. “And I...I just sorta realized… everyone who was nice to me then,” as he speaks, his eyes glaze over, and he tilts his head back down, “they’re all dead now. They have been for a long time.”

Scourge searches his face with sad eyes. Shadow sighs, running a hand through his quills; he’s not really sad anymore, just tired. “I don’t know,” he mumbles, defeated, “I just wish I could go back sometimes, even though I know it’s never going to be possible. You know?” Shadow glances at Scourge, then winces, almost embarrassed, looking away again. “Sorry. I mean—You, you’ve told me what, uh, what life was like… I doubt you want that back.” What right does he have to complain when Scourge has never had a solidified good time to look back on? He mourns openly for something his boyfriend never had. How selfish is he?

Scourge glances down, mind tracing back to his time with the Suppression Squad. How fun it was to watch Miles work, how much he loved making Fiona smile once upon a time, the chaos they caused in his stagnant and dying world. Warm memories of the one time he really had a family, as much as they were cold to each other. “No,” he says, “There are some things I miss.” Lifting his head, he gives Shadow a bittersweet smile. “But if I’d stuck with ’em, I wouldn’t be here…” He reaches out, gently brushing Shadow’s leg with his left hand; his boyfriend slides his hand over to rest atop that one, holding it to his knee. “...And I wouldn’t trade this for the world.”

Shadow snakes his hand beneath Scourge’s, flipping it to lace their fingers together, and a small but genuine smile slides across his muzzle. “Yeah,” he murmurs, eyes flicking back up to meet Scourge’s, “Me neither.”

Scourge scoots closer, and runs his thumb across Shadow’s knuckles. “Ya can’t change what’s happened, ’n ya can’t go back. Ya just havta keep movin’ forward, no turnin’ back.”

“Mhm,” Shadow’s eyes turn sad again, and Scourge moves a bit closer again. “I… Did I wake you up?” A bit of concern flickers across his face.

Scourge shakes his head. “Nah, I was still up. Havin’ trouble sleepin’.”

Shadow doesn’t entirely believe him, ears flicking dubiously, but he doesn’t protest it. He looks back down at their joined hands. “I’m not gonna be able to go back to sleep,” he says in a resigned tone.

“Let’s stay up’n’watch TV,” Scourge suggests with a smile, giving Shadow a hopeful look.

“Don’t you want to sleep?” The dark hedgehog’s brows furrow, but his boyfriend shakes his head. “...Alright.”

Both hedgehogs turn their focus to the boxy small television at the foot of the mattress, tilted slightly, and they let go of each others’ hands just long enough to maneuver their way to the television. Shadow turns it on, then shuffles a bit further back. Scourge finds the remote wadded up in the one bedsheet they have, and with it they scroll through the few channels they’re allotted until they settle on something they can tolerate. That settled, Scourge drops the remote beside them, leaning back; Shadow lies down at an angle, gazing blankly at the screen. For some time they sit, relaxing, but Shadow’s expression never changes. “’Ey, Stripes,” Scourge says eventually, earning a half-raised eyebrow. “Uh. D’you,” he struggles to come up with a proper way to say it, wrestling with his sleep-deprived mind, “Can I, uh, lie down with ya?”

Shadow gives him a puzzled stare. “There’s enough room, right?”

“I meant, um,” Scourge shifts position. “Hold...Holdin’ ya—” He cuts himself off in abrupt embarrassment, covering his face with his hand.

Shadow smirks, restraining a laugh. “Yes.” He finally replies, gathering what Scourge is talking about. He sits up, twisting his neck to crack its bones as Scourge settles down on the mattress, still mumbling sheepishly as he lies down next to Shadow; Shadow shuffles a bit closer to rest his head on Scourge’s shoulder. For a moment Scourge thinks that’s all Shadow would allow (which would be fine by him, of course) until the dark hedgehog shifts again, pressing his side into Scourge’s and sliding an arm beneath him. “Is this alright?” He asks, glancing up at the green hedgehog. Scourge isn’t usually one for snuggling up like this (though neither is Shadow, to be fair), and Shadow is well aware of his boyfriend’s particular hangups with being touched.

Scourge for a moment is too startled and elated to answer, but he gathers his wits quickly and blurts, “Yes! Uh.” He coughs, cheeks reddening, “I mean. Sure.”

Shadow smirks, resting his other hand on Scourge’s chest. “Is this alright?” Scourge nods, mute. “...You’re sure this isn’t overwhelming?” Shadow speaks slowly, eyes trained to the green hedgehog’s face.

“I’m, I’m sure,” Scourge nods again, gazing down at Shadow with a smile. He gently places his right hand over Shadow’s, the left stuck beneath his boyfriend.

A yawn splits Scourge’s face as Shadow states, “If you change your mind, tell me. Okay?”

“Hnnnnokay,” he shakes his head to clear it. “Promise I will.”

“Good.” Shadow rests his muzzle against Scourge’s chest. Television static fills the air as they fall silent again, watching inane 3AM programming. Over time, Shadow’s mood lightens ever so slightly, and by 5 he feels halfway to normal again. The sun is on its way up, both of them are having trouble keeping their eyes open, and eventually Shadow sighs, ducking his head down to rub at his eye with his forearm. “We should sleep.” He remarks tiredly, flicking an ear.

“Mmh.” Scourge’s eyes are already half-closed. Shadow casually disentangles his hand from Scourge’s, leaning over him to reach the remote and turn off the television. “Hnnnh?” Scourge squints, coming back to reality as Shadow flops back down.

Shadow slides his hand back into his boyfriend’s grasp. “...Scourge?” He lifts his head to look at the green hedgehog.

“Hnhyeah?” Blinking blearily down at Shadow, he smiles, obviously sleepy.

“I, hm,” Shadow clears his throat, “Thank you for staying awake with me.”

Scourge gently pats Shadow’s back. “Of course, baby, I’m not gonna go to sleep when you’re distressed,” he purrs. “Ya feelin’ better, by the way?”

“A little bit.” Shadow rests his head on the green hedgehog’s chest again.

“Good.” Scourge scratches Shadow’s shoulder gently for a moment. Silence falls again, Shadow shuts his eyes, and Scourge stares at the ceiling, enjoying the moment. “Stripes?” He prompts, and Shadow hums briefly, lifting an ear. The green hedgehog bites his lip, wrestling with whether or not to say what he wants to; after a solid minute of debate, he makes up his mind, taking a deep breath to steel his resolve. “Love ya.”

Shadow perks up, astonished, and steals a glance at Scourge, whose eyes are already closed. “...I… Y-You too,” Shadow mumbles, burning bright red. Scourge smiles to himself, pleased, as Shadow’s eyes fall shut again, and both drift off to sleep just as the sun begins to rise.

#scourgadow #shadourge #one shot #fanfiction #sonic fanfiction #my writing #demolition lovers au #my au #vent #kinda #its absolutely ok to reblog tho #like actually please please do

[thomasblanky-moved]

i am out with lanterns looking for myself (ch. 3)

rating: g characters: albert cashier, jeffrey n. davis word count: 1004

READ ON AO3

buy me a coffee!

As it happened, Albert wasn’t entirely sure where to start helping Jeff.

He spends a few days just using search engines, typing in Jeff Davis, and then Jeffrey Davis, Jeffrey Davis Civil War, Jeffrey Davis Belvidere, and half-heartedly combing through the first three pages of results for each search. But Albert had never been a good researcher- had never had the patience or the passion for it- and so he quickly burned out of ideas.

He wastes a few more days dithering around the idea of going to a library, of finding some archive to bury himself in, if only to feel useful.

He didn’t, though. He did have other things to do.

Albert felt almost guilty about it. He had promised Jeff that he would help him, help to find out what happened to his family, but he really was next to useless. He hems and haws over that, worries about it to the point that it stacked up on his classes and his work and left Walter watching him with a keen eye.

“You smell like alcohol,” says Jeff’s accusing voice behind him.

Albert sighs, rubs at the hair standing up on the back of his neck, and doesn’t turn to look. He sits in the library brightly-lit with white light, almost empty at this time of night. He was studying for a class- he had long forgotten which one, almost cross-eyed from exhaustion- and he was sure he looked a fright, but at least there was no one around to see him

No one alive, anyway.

“You can smell?” he asks idly.

Jeff scoffs and Albert can hear him move, the rustle of his clothing and the quiet clatter of his canteen against his haversack. He glances up when the toes of Jeff’s worn, dirty boots stop just on the edge of his vision, a stark contrast to the library’s waxed tile floor.

“I can smell,” Jeff says, and there’s a frown on his face, as if he were disappointed, “and you smell like alcohol. Thought you were s’posed to be helpin’ me, not havin’ a bit’ve a drink.”

“I work at a bar. Everything smells like alcohol.” Albert rolls his eyes; why should he have to explain himself to a man that’s been dead for a century and a half? “Did you know that you have a really common last name?”

Something twitches about Jeff’s mouth as he settles in the chair on the other side of the table, one left pulled out by its previous occupant, and he shucks off his rifle and his haversack before he really looks at Albert, and once again Albert is struck by just how horrifically young Jeff was, twenty-something forever.

He tries to think of what it was like, separated from everyone and everything you knew, moving through a world you couldn’t even interact with. He feels sick.

“Jeffrey,” Albert asks suddenly, and he doesn’t know if he’s ever actually used the ghost’s name before now. He pauses for a moment, rolling it around on his tongue. “Jeffrey, how old were you?”

“Huh?”

“When you died,” Albert says, “how old were you?”

“Well,” Jeff says, considering, leaning back in his chair. The wood doesn’t creak like it should have, had someone with a flesh and bone body been sitting in it. “I was born in 1842. I turned twenty-two in May of ’65. So I would’ve been thereabouts.”

And suddenly, all at once, Albert pities him terribly.

“Tell me about your family,” he says, changing tracks entirely, only in part to try to escape that sad, sinking feeling.

He really did want to know about Jeff’s family, know who they were outside of the people he had seen in dreams.

Jeff manages a smile, then, but it’s not like any smile he’s favored Albert with; it’s soft and warm, affectionate, a faint flash of teeth. “I’m the oldest’ve five,” he says, sounding almost bashful. “Well, six. There’s me, then there was Laurie- he died young, though, was a few years after me- and Charlie, Annie, Fanny, and Nate. My parents, too.”

He seemed happy, talking about them, and something in Albert’s gut tightens with mingled sympathy and jealousy. A happy home life, a family that loved him- these were things that Albert didn’t have. He’d never thought much about it, had never let himself think much about it; he’d gone home with Walter on holidays and had contented himself with that.

He says, “What were they like?”

“Oh, they’re a handful, every one’ve ‘em.” Jeff laughs a little here, indulgent, and he scratches vaguely at his cheek as he thinks. “Charlie was as bold as you please; she had her own way’ve things and she’d do what she liked no matter what our ma said. Annie was quieter, shy, but sweet as sugar; she liked her books, more’n anything. Fanny was the youngest girl, loud and bright and cheerful. Nate was barely more’n a babe in arms when I enlisted, he was so young.”

He pauses here, then repeats quietly, “They were all so young.”

Albert reaches across the table the lay his hand on Jeff’s arm in some effort at comfort, but his hand passes straight through with little more than a nip of cold. Jeff smiles at him, smaller and more tumultuous than before, but genuine regardless.

He didn’t know how to mourn people. He’d never had anyone to mourn; all of his losses had been his own choice. He wasn’t sad that Jeff was dead because he’d never known him when he was alive, not really, but Jeff’s grief was open and painful as a wound. He’d had a whole family that he’d left behind, a life of love that he’d promised to come back to,and then he just… hadn’t. Albert wasn’t even sure if his family ever learned what had happened to him, dying alone on that field, choking on his own blood.

“I’m sorry,” Albert says, and it feels like too little. And then, “You were young, too.”

#coac #coac fic #coac ghost au #sorry..........