#and imagine if the tone was in a depressed defeated way

[guideaus]

i think a cool thing hgsn does is not show all of a scene. it'll jump to another part in the story even when ur probably wondering what happens next. hgsn isnt entirely from yoshiki's pov, but concerning him this meme comes to mind

#personal #hgsn spoilers #sorry to put that guy on the post. even in meme format #and imagine if the tone was in a depressed defeated way #before i compared hikaru thinking he should just kill yoshiki to yoshiki trying to kill hikaru but i think its interesting yoshiki keeps #bringing up him trying to stab him as if hikaru didnt do all this first. like this is attempt number 2 regardless of his state of mind #i feel like trying to stab wouldve made them even. but he excused hikaru the first time when i feel this is more excusable? #but he brings up the fact he tried to stab him. maybe bc hikaru joked abt it in the prev ch? #anyways again he tries to act like its the same when its clearly not #yoshiki cannot keep up w the situation and is dragging himself forward w hikaru also not knowing what to do #like either hikaru will have to make him say smth or smth else will??

[chickensarentcheap]

Lost and Found- Chapter 28

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (established OFC. You do NOT have to read the series to understand this fic)

Warnings: slight profanity

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @thebejeweledwatercat @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @munstysmind @themaradwrites @kmc1989 @karimac @asirensrage @residentdormouse @fanficanatic-tw @ninjasawakenedmystar @arrthurpendragon @occommunity @ocappreciationtag @theesirenteller @alisbackalleybbq

Link to Ao3:

My tag list is OPEN. Just ask if you'd like to be added :D

****

On day six, she forces herself out of bed. Tired of staring at the same four walls and depression and frustration setting in; feeling isolated and lonely, jealous as she listens to life as it continues around her. She misses the constant interaction and stimulation; saddened by the lack of colour, the smell of fresh air, the absence of conversation, and even the briefest and most innocent of physical contact.

The absence of tubes and wires makes it easier to slip out from under the confines of the crisp, warm sheets. The pain is dull yet manageable; centred in the ribs, sternum, and the middle of her back as she carefully sits up and gingerly swings her legs over the side of the mattress. The effort leaving her winded, but not defeated; her eyes closed as she slowly and deeply breathes through the tightness and the discomfort in her chest. Waiting until it passes before she stands; her knees initially buckling and her legs feeling impossibly weak, the room briefly spinning around her as her both body and brain try to centre and strengthen themselves. And she’s unsure of how much time passes before she makes those first movements; shuffling her way across the room and gaining confidence with each successful step. Spurred on when she finds it easier than expected to slip out of her nightgown and into fresh clothing; a simple pair of terry cloth shorts and a t-shirt pulled out of Tyler’s duffle bag.

The journey out of the room and down the hall and stairs is slow and tedious; her legs and her determination driven by a mixture of stubbornness and sheer spite. She has survived much worse; the many beatings that Mark had bestowed upon her, the times he’d put her in the hospital, the two stints in the ICU. If he couldn’t break and defeat her, she surely wasn’t giving Alessio and his family the pleasure of knowing they succeeded. And although she is forced to take several small breaks along the way and has to resort to leaning against stair railings and walls, she enjoys the feel of the smooth, cold marble under her bare feet.

The conversations on the outside patio become clearer with each small step. Yaz with his cool, calm tone laced with humour and sarcasm, Tyler’s much lower and resonating deep within his chest, each syllable dripping with his Australian accent. And Millie with that tiny yet always confident and sometimes commanding voice; high-pitched with excitement, her words occasionally making way for that infectious giggle.

Esme can imagine that sweet face; sunkissed cheeks and nose, vibrant blue eyes, a smile that spreads from ear to ear. A fierce, free-spirited little girl who routinely throws caution to the wind and lives her life one mud puddle to jump in or towering tree to climb at a time. Fearless and resilient in ways no one that young should ever be; witnessing things that someone so innocent and precious should never have to endure. Yet somehow, she hangs on to breathtaking levels of vibrance and exuberance and a love for the world and everyone and everything in it.

The patio is enormous. A central courtyard surrounded by the villa’s stucco and brick walls and countless picture windows. The flooring intricately laid mosaic tiles; a mixture of turquoise, vibrant yellow, royal blue, and smoky grey. An inground pool with outer edges lined by over a dozen loungers and chairs; simple wooden frames with crisp, white, navy blue, and gray striped cushions. An outdoor kitchen rivalling the gourmet one that resides inside the house; stone pizza ovens, wood burning stoves, top-of-the-line smart fridges, and a fully stocked bar.

The elegance is teamed with a section dedicated solely to Millie; an expansive wooden play structure with a spiral slide, saucer swings, a rope and rock climb, a teeter-totter and a sandbox. And a water table, a child-size three-story dollhouse -that had been handmade especially for her-, and a ‘battleground’ for her GI Joes. Doll-sized mud piles and trenches and caverns for them to hide in.

“Look! Look! Look!” Millie squeals from her spot at the dining table; the top covered end to end in various Lego pieces. Kneeling on her chair, she holds aloft a separate baggy of building bricks; her long, slender frame clad in a purple bathing suit, its front adorned by a lone brilliant pink flamingo. Both arms covered in multicoloured beaded bracelets. “Where do you think these go?”

“Open it up,” Tyler suggests, as he stands across the table in only a pair of camo board shorts; his hair damp and sticking up in several different directions, eyes covered by a pair of aviator shades. The lack of a shirt gives a clear view of the now-healing bruises that mar his back and shoulders and crawl down the rear of both biceps. “We’ll figure it out.”

“You can’t do that.” Yaz heaves an exasperated sigh. “That’s not how it’s done. You need to plan. Figure out where you want to start first. You can’t just jump into it and hope for the best.”

Tyler frowns. “I think you’re taking this way too seriously. It’s Lego. For kids.”

“Lego isn’t just for kids. Adults invest a lot of money in this. A lot of time. A lot…”

“Adults that don’t have sex lives, you mean. Because if they had them, they wouldn’t be so caught up in this kind of thing.”

“Adults who enjoy their hobbies. Who are into the finer things in life. Who…”

“Finer things in life? They’re plastic bricks.”

“These aren’t just any old Lego sets. These are intricate pieces of art. Some of these kits cost into the thousands. People have whole rooms dedicated to the ones they’ve put together; replicas of the Eiffel Tower, the Roman Coliseum, the Titanic.”

“I don’t care about any of that,” Millie declares. “I just want to build shit!”

Tyler nods in his daughter’s direction. “What she said.”

“It’s true. The apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree. You’re both feral.”

“The best part is when you get to break the thing!” Millie enthuses. “That’s my favourite! When I get to bust it all up!”

Leaning sideways in his chair, Yaz playfully tugs at the little one’s hair. “What is wrong with you? You can’t just ‘bust it all up’”

“Why not? It’s mine to do whatever I want with. You were the one who told me to pick out a Lego set, remember? And you didn’t like the one I did pick! I wanted the Lego Friends set with the cupcake shop, but you said, ‘No Mills. That’s not good enough. ' You were the one who picked THIS one.”

“You said you liked this one.”

“I do! But I thought I was going to get to break the shit out of it after I built it! That’s the part I love the most. About Legos. I love wrecking stuff. Causing a mess.”

“You’re definitely your father’s daughter. Tell you what…” Scooping Millie out of her seat, he settles her on his lap. “...we’ll go back to the store and get you a whole bunch of those Lego Friends sets. And you can put them together and bust them up all you want. But this one? This one stays in one piece. And here at mine and Auntie Nik’s place. On display.”

“You’re going to put it in your room, aren’t you? I don’t know, Uncle Yazzie, if you should do that. I don’t know if girls like seeing that kind of thing.”

“Not like that’ll happen any time soon,” Tyler mutters. “He has to actually know girls to be able to bring one back to his room.”

Yaz scowls. “I heard that.”

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” Millie continues. “I don’t think it’s very appealing. If you’re a grown-up and have Lego in your room. It’s kinda geeky.”

“Girls like geeks.”

She tilts her head to the side, eyes narrowing. “Do they though?”

“I’ll have you know that plenty of girls like geeks. You don’t think you’d ever like a geek?”

“How should I know? I’m only four. I don’t like ANY boys. They’re all annoying. They piss me off. They do gross stuff thinking it makes them look cool. Like burping and farting and stuff like that.”

“Hey, don’t shit talk burping and farting. How do you think your dad landed your mom?”

“Oh God, I hope not! That’s not how it happened, is it? You really didn’t…”

“I promise, there was no farting or burping involved. Not on my part anyway.”

Millie crunches her nose up in disgust. “Ewwww.”

“There was no gross stuff, I swear. From me or your mum. Do you really think your mum burps and farts?”

“I KNOW she does. Everyone burps and farts. Even girls.”

“I bet you don’t.”

“Are you kidding? If I eat too much cauliflower, my farts can clear an entire room!”

“She’s telling the truth,” Yaz confirms. “And her favourite thing to do is sit on your lap, carpet bomb you, and then take off.”

“It makes Uncle Yazzie gag,” Millie proudly announces, then giggles into the palms of her hands. “And if I eat lots of popcorn…”

“She’s a cute little thing, but she’s also smelly. And a savage.”

“I get it from my momma. Not the stinky part, but the cute, little, and savage stuff. Although I’m definitely going to be taller than her one day- probably by the time I’m ten. I have really long legs! See!” Leaning back against Yaz’ chest, she stretches out both legs. “They’re super skinny, too! And I got really big feet! I already wear a kid-size two! And I’m only four!”

“You get your skinny ass legs and your big feet from your dad,” Yaz says, and playfully tickles her stomach. “And your big ass forehead.”

“I do NOT have a big forehead!”

“Are you kidding me? Look at the size of it!” He playfully taps a fingertip against her brow. “I could land a helicopter on that thing!”

“That’s mean, Uncle Yazzie! That’s not friends.”

“I say it with love. Lots and lots of love.”

As he watches his daughter and Yaz together, Tyler notices that the anger is beginning to fade; no longer hurt or incensed over the realization that while he’d been kept in the dark about his daughter’s existence, those he’d trusted and respected had been allowed to be part of her life. But now he’s able to see things from a different standpoint; how lucky Milie is to have so many people who love and adore her and would do anything to keep her safe and sound. Protecting both her and Esme FOR him; in expectation of him and Esme reuniting and being able to raise their little girl together.

It’s obvious just how loved Millie has been; happy and healthy and thriving and one hundred percent comfortable with the people that surround her. And she’s been a positive influence on all of their lives; a bright and bubbly and rambunctious little one bringing a sense of normalcy into the rather twisted and dark world they’re immersed in. Gun runners and soldiers for hire that trade in the danger and unpredictability for giggles and smiles, kisses and hugs. He’s witnessed sides to Nik and Yaz that he never has before; a softness and patience and a compassion that he’d never been privy to.

“You even got his ears,” Esme declares as she stands behind Tyler, pushes herself up on her tiptoes, and playfully tugs on his earlobes. “Cutest elf ears ever.”

“Momma!” Millie shrieks and hurriedly slides off Yaz’s lap; bare feet slapping against the patio stones as she races towards Esme. Heeding Tyler’s reminder to ‘be ‘gentle’ as she throws her arms around her mother’s thighs and buries her face in her stomach; her entire body trembling as she openly sobs. “Momma…”

Pushing through the pain that comes from simply embracing her daughter. Esme curls an arm around Millie’s long, slender body. A hand on the back of her head as she holds as tight as she possibly can; showering her little one’s temple and cheek with kisses. “My sweet girl. My sweet sweet girl. How I love you.”

“I missed you, mommy. I missed you so much.”

“How could you miss me?” Cradling Millie’s face in her palms, she uses her thumbs to clear tears off the four-year-old’s cheeks. “You see me all the time. We always hang out. Watch movies, do crafts, take naps. And you gave me a pedi yesterday.”

“It’s not the same. It’s different. I don’t like it. I like it when things are normal. When we do our normal things together.”

“Yeah, you’re a stickler for routine at times, aren’t you? Things will go back to normal soon. And in a few days, we’ll be out of here and on our way to Australia.”

“Home, right? Our forever home?”

“Our forever and ever home. And you’ll finally get to see kangaroos and koalas and…”

“And really big spiders and snakes! I really want to see those spiders! The ones that are the size of a dinner plate!”

“Well, I know I could go without ever seeing one of those. But if you’re looking forward to it…”

“And I get to school, right? And make friends?”

“As soon as it’s safe for you to go. We just have to wait for Auntie Nik to fix the problems back in New York City. She needs time to do that; to make sure no one is going to show up and try to do bad things to us.”

“I’m not worried. I don’t care if they come to our house. Daddy won’t let them hurt us. He’ll protect us! He’ll kill the bad guys! ALL of them!”

It’s the first time hearing Millie call him that, and emotion immediately grabs hold of her. Tightening her chest and throat and bringing tears to her eyes. “Your daddy loves us very, very, VERY much. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for us. And if anyone can keep us safe and fight off the bad guys, it’s him. I’ve seen it. With my own two eyes.”

“I’m not worried. Not one bit.”

“Good. Because there’s no reason to be. We’re safe now. No one can hurt us. Not with your dad around. Now…” She combs her fingers through Millie’s hair “...what have you been up to? Lots of swimming? Look at all the sun you got on her cheeks and your nose. And I love your new bathing suit. Did you pick that out all on your own?”

Millie nods enthusiastically. “I picked out a whole bunch! And lots of summer clothes. For when we go home. ‘Cause it’s always hot there! And I got a new Lego set. Uncle Yazzie bought it for me! I’ll show you!”

As she excitedly scurries off, Esme smiles up at Tyler, tucking herself into his side when one of his hands settle at the small of her back. “Daddy? When did THAT happen?”

“First night here. Just came out while I was putting her to bed. Mind you she was half asleep when she said it..”

“It still counts. Half asleep or not.”

“After that, it became a regular thing. She’s been saying it ever since.”

“It must feel good, huh? Hearing it.”

“Nearly brought me to my knees when she first did it. And I won’t lie; I still want to cry every time she says it.”

“It’s been a long time; since you heard someone call you that.”

Tyler nods. “It has. And after you left, I didn’t think I’d ever get another chance. To hear someone say it.”

“She’s wanted to meet her dad for so long. She was only three when she started asking about you; wanting to know where her dad was. WHO he was. All her little friends at daycare had daddies, so why didn’t she? She’s so smart, Tyler. So, so, so smart. So intuitive. So…you.”

“I don’t know about that, Me. I see a lot of you in her. The more time I spend with her.”

“She’s got way more dad in her, trust me. She’s got your heart. She loves with everything she is and everything she has. Just like you. And it’s such a beautiful thing. How much she IS like you.”

“Must have been hard. Seeing that every day. While doing it all alone.”

“It was. But it was also amazing. Because I had that connection to you. We create this amazing little human being together. And I’m sorry it took me so long to bring her to you. I can’t make up for those years you lost. I can’t go back in time and change everything. And that’s something I’ll live with for the rest of my life.”

“I don’t want that. You holding onto that forever. You don’t need to. I forgive you, Esme. And I’m starting to accept it; you making the decisions that you did. I don’t want you carrying around that guilt forever. I know what it’s like; never letting something like that go. I speak from experience.”

“I never said a bad word about you. I may never have told her your name or what you looked like, but everything I DID tell her? It was all the truth. That you were a good man with a big heart. And that I loved you very much. That I still did and always would.”

“Even when I’m an enormous, insufferable pain in your ass?”

“Even then.”

Grinning, he moves his hand to the nape of her neck and pulls her into him, lips meeting her temple. “Speaking of being a pain in my ass, just what in the hell do you think you’re doing? Being out here?”

“I couldn’t stay in that room any longer. I was starting to go stir-crazy. I need some fresh air. And have you ever thought maybe I just miss you guys? That I just want to hang out with you and Millie?”

“Hey!” Yaz calls out, from where he returns to the painstaking task of building their Lego creation. “Am I invisible?”

“Alright…” Esme sighs; heavy and exaggerated. “I suppose I could hang out with you, too. If I have to.”

“You shouldn’t have come all the way out here by yourself. You should have texted me. I would have come and helped you.”

“I made it safe and sound. Mind you, I had to stop a dozen times along the way…”

He stares down at her pointedly.

“I’m fine,” Esme assures him. “I don’t feel nauseous or dizzy, and the pain is bearable. Way better than I expected to feel, actually. Now, I may need you to carry me when it’s time to head back…”

“I’ll just slip you in my pocket. Keep you safe and sound. Get you where you need to go.”

“Don’t start with that crap. Making fun of my height. Saying I’m pocket-sized. That’s rude.”

“I say it with love. And amazement. I’ve never seen a grown woman that never grew past the age of twelve.”

She scowls up at him.

“I’m going to call you that, you know. When we get married. Pocket wife.”

“You think so, do you?”

Running a hand over her hair, he drops a kiss on the top of her head. “I KNOW so.”

“Look, momma!” Millie scurries over, carrying an empty box longer than she is tall. “Look! Uncle Yazzie got it for me! It’s the Imperial Destroyer! Isn’t it cool? Do you know what movie it’s from?”

“That is very cool! And I do know where it’s from; those movies were around when I was a little girl. When did you get into Star Wars?”

“We watched the movies. Three days in a row! Daddy, me, and Uncle Yazzie.”

Esme cocks her head to the side as she grins up at Tyler. “You watched Star Wars?”

“Just the original three. You know, the only ones that matter.”

“When did YOU become a Star Wars fan?”

“I’ve always been one.”

“How come I never…”

“Hey, everyone has a secret or two. That they’re allowed to keep.”

“Well, if they’re as tame as liking Star Wars, I can live with it. I might call you a geek from time to time…”

“A geek that can kick total ass!” Millie declares. “Do you want to help us, momma? Put it together? We need all the help we can get. There’s A LOT of pieces.”

“You know what, if you give me a little bit of time to rest, I’ll definitely lend a hand. But I really need to sit and catch my breath, okay?”

“Do you want me to get you a drink? And a snack?”

“You know what? That sounds awesome. But only if you get a drink and a snack for yourself, okay?”

“Yep!” Rushing off, the four year old returns the box to the ‘lego building area’ before hurrying towards the house. Calling for the cook as she slides open the patio door and disappears inside)

“I should probably go in there,” Tyler says. “Help her. If she can’t find Carmen, I don’t want her going all Swedish Chef and burning Nik’s house down.”

“First Star Wars, now the Swedish Chef? You’re a Muppets fan, too?”

“That was the second secret I had.”

“You are just blowing my mind today. I lived with you for a YEAR and never knew ANY of this stuff How?”

“Some things I wasn’t ready to tell you. Guess I was worried you’d think I was a dag.”

“Dag meaning…”

“A geek.”

“You are a man of many, many, MANY layers, Tyler Rake. What else are you hiding?”

“That was the last of it.”

“A true enigma,” she declares, turning her face up towards him when he leans down for a kiss.

“You need my help? Getting you over there and settled?”

“I’m not a complete invalid, you know. It’s not even five feet.”

“Still…” Hand on her hip, he guides her closer to the table and pulls out a chair; using his free hand to keep a firm, protective grip on her bicep as she carefully lowers herself into the seat.. “Here…” Reaching for the hoodie and beach towel slung over a nearby chair, he drapes the garment across her shoulders and spreads the towel over her lap. Giving an almost sheepish grin when she looks up at him, lips curled in amusement. “It’s kinda chilly out. Pretty good breeze coming in off the water.”

“Tyler…”

“Esme…”

“You need to chill a bit, okay? I’m alright.”

“You know what whole worrying thing that you do? Incessantly?”

She nods.

“Must be contagious. ‘Cause I’ve done nothing but.”

“He was insufferable,” Yaz chides. “Not like that’s anything new for him, but…”

“Hey!” She grabs a hold of his hand as he turns to leave; raising to her face and pressing a kiss to his palm. “I love you.”

Standing behind her chair, he cups her chin in his palm, gently tilting her head back to press a kiss to the bridge of her nose, then her mouth. His lips a hair's breadth from hers when he returns the sentiment. “I love YOU.”

*****

Grimacing in discomfort, Esme stretches out her legs and places her bare feet in the empty chair across from her. Watching Yaz as he continues to put the Lego set together; his lips pursed and his furrowed in concentration. After minutes of silence, she uses her thumb and forefinger to flick one of the plastic bricks in his direction.

“You been keeping yourself out of trouble, young man?”

Smirking, he picks up the brick and snaps into it place, then drops into his chair. “What kind of fun would that be?”

“How come you didn’t go to Manila with Nik? It’s been years since she’s done a job without you.”

“She didn’t need me.”

“I find THAT hard to believe. You’re a jack of all trades. And while I know she’s a total badass who can more than handle herself, I also know how protective you are of her. And that you’d never let her go on ANY job alone. So…”

“Can you keep a secret?”

She tilts her head to the side. “Did I not just get finished with keeping the mother of all secrets? For almost FIVE years?”

“Touche.”

“Nik didn’t go there for work, did she?”

Yaz shakes his head.

“She found herself a new boy toy?”

“Not exactly.”

“Girl toy? She’s finally discovering the best of both worlds?”

“Not a girl, either. Sorry to disappoint you. Your raging crush on my sister will have to just stay just that.”

“So not a girl, not a boy. What…?”

“It’s a guy. Just not a boy. A man. An OLDER man.”

“How much older?”

“Quite a bit.”

“Quite a bit as in ten years? Fifteen…”

Yaz raises both brows.

“Twenty?”

“A little higher.”

“Thirty?”

“Minus five from that.”

“That’s just…” Esme grimaces. “...ewwww.”

“How do you think I feel? That’s my sister.”

“I don’t like the direction my mind is taking this in. I can understand her wanting to try her hand at guys her age or a little bit older, but someone old enough to be her father? Just…no.”

“If it makes it any better, he is a decent guy. I’ve met him a handful of times; he’s one of our biggest clients.”

“Weapons?”

Yaz nods.

“He a merc or…?”

“Runs his own business. A very lucrative one.”

“Are we talking gross and wrinkled old man? Or are we talking like Paul Newman level of hot old man? Because if it’s not the latter…”

“I’ll give him Paul Newman level.”

“Good for her. ‘Cause I would have hit old man Paul Newman in a heartbeat. Well, at least she’s not slumming. Because that last guy? The boy toy…”

“He was a complete tool.”

“That’s putting it lightly. I mean, he didn’t even appreciate her. He had this total goddess fawning all over him; giving him a fancy place to live, spoiling the shit out of him, paying all his bills, putting expensive clothes on his back. And what did he do? Cheat. The ungrateful fuck. He was nothing when she met him, and I bet he’s back to being nothing now.”

“We both warned her. That he was a piece of shit. And while I wouldn’t say ‘I told you so’ to her face…”

“She’d smack the ever-loving shit out of you.”

“...I can at least say it to you. It hasn’t been easy not having you around, you know. I got used to having someone on my side. Sticking up for me. Helping me talk the she-beast down from time to time.”

“Believe me, in hindsight, being around here would have been a lot better than where I ended up.”

“You mean with Alessio? Or Winston?”

“I think it’s safe to say that ‘both’ is an acceptable answer.”

“Speaking of ‘I told you so’....”

“Remember, I’m not completely feeble now, Yaz. I happen to have just enough strength to slap you upside the head. So tread lightly.”

“I DID tell you so. When Nik brought that job to you. I told her -right in front of you- that I didn’t have a good feeling about it. That things weren’t going to end well. And I tried talking you out of it; getting you to back off before you even got started. More than once. But did you listen…”

“You know I’m stubborn.”

“To a fault.”

“For what it’s worth, I do appreciate that you wanted to keep me safe; that you tried your best to stop me from getting caught up in all of that. But I couldn’t turn that job down. I couldn’t say ‘no’ to your sister. After everything she’s done over the past five years…”

“You don’t owe her anything. And she certainly doesn’t expect something from you.”

“It was a lot to ask. A huge secret for BOTH of you to keep. And the way you’ve continued to help take care of us and make sure we’re safe and sound and how you love Millie the way you do…”

“We’re family. That’s my niece. I don’t do the things I do because I expect something in return. And neither does Nik. That isn’t why she asked you if you wanted that job; she wasn’t preying on your guilt or your regret. She wanted the BEST. That’s it. And when it comes to what you do? The things you know? The things you can get away with? The best is YOU.”

“I felt like I DID owe you. BOTH of you. If it wasn’t for you and Nik keeping all my secrets…”

“We helped because we wanted to. Because you were scared and you were alone and you didn’t know who else to turn to. And maybe things got way out of hand and lasted way longer than they should have…”

“That’s the understatement of the century.”

“...but we don’t regret the decisions we made. And you don’t owe us a damn thing. So if that’s why you took that job…”

“I felt it was the least I could do. After everything that you guys do for us. All the things you STILL do. I…”

“Taking that job was a mistake. I told you it was. Before you even started it. That you had no business getting involved. Not with Millie in the picture.”

“I wouldn’t have taken it if I thought she’d get hurt. If I thought for a second she was in any danger…”

“Why wouldn’t you expect the worst? You knew who and what Alessio’s family were. The kind of things they were involved in. Those were the last people you should have gotten involved with. If you were alone, I wouldn’t have said a damn thing. I would have worried. But I wouldn’t have tried so hard to stop you. I just didn’t get it. Why you’d be so willing to drag Millie into this life.”

“Hasn’t she always been part of it? Right from conception? Hasn’t it always been in her blood? You do realize who her parents are, right? Who her father is?”

“But you stayed out of things. Or just helped from behind the scenes. She was never exposed to it. Not directly. Millie’s always been the one normal thing in all OUR lives. The only person that’s truly innocent in all of this. And we made sure to keep it that way; keep you and her safe and under the radar and…”

“I would never…EVER…do anything to hurt her. Or put her in danger. I had no idea things would go that bad. Not after months of everything going right. I…”

“The point is you never should have been involved in this person. There shouldn’t have been a chance for anything to go bad.”

Sighing heavily, she gnaws on the inside of her cheek, eyes in her lap as she considers his words.

“I’m not saying this to hurt you. Because I would never do that. Hurt you. And you know it.”

“I do. I DO know that.”

“Things could have been so much worse. And they were pretty fucking bad.”

“Oh, believe me, my body reminds me just how bad every day.”

“What if he hadn’t been able to get you out of there? What if Charon hadn’t helped out? If he’d taken Winston’s side?”

“But he didn’t.”

“He could have.”

“Isn’t playing the ‘what if’ game one of the major no-nos in this life? Isn’t it one of the things Nik preaches against? Doesn’t she always say that it only leads to trouble? Spending that much time inside your own head?”

“You can’t tell me you don’t think about it. How much worse things could have been.”

“I only think about it every day. Well, since I became lucid enough to form a coherent thought, anyway. I know how horrible things could have gone; had we not had the help that we did. But you know what? As bruised and busted up as I am, a lot of good things happened, too.”

Yaz stares at her pointedly,

“If things hadn’t gone wrong and I hadn’t gotten into trouble, I never would have had a reason to contact Tyler. It forced me to do the right thing. For both him and Millie. Because who knows how long I would have let it drag on. Before I finally did get up the guts to take her to him.”

“If it had gone on much longer, I would have told him. I would have taken one hell of an ass-kicking in the process, but…”

“Everything happens for a reason. I like to believe that, anyway. I had no choice BUT to call him. I knew he would do whatever it took to get Millie out of there. And to keep her safe. At that point, I didn’t care about me. All that mattered was her.”

“There was no way he was ever going to leave you behind. If he didn’t walk out the door when he realized you were the client, he sure as hell wasn’t going to sacrifice you. For anyone or anything.”

“If it was for her, I like to think he would.”

“Why would you even wish that on him? After everything he’s already gone through, why add that on top of it? The last five years haven’t exactly been kind to him, either. I know he puts on a good front…”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me? Just how bad he got? You always let on that he was doing okay. That he was keeping himself busy; he was firefighting and running his little business and doing the odd job for Nik. Why didn’t you just tell me the truth? That he was a wreck? Why…?”

“I thought you would have just realized it. That you leaving destroyed him. I didn’t think you needed to be told.”

“I never meant to hurt him. I didn’t do it intentionally. Ruin his life. And I know I should have contacted him sooner. About Millie. Believe me, there are A LOT of things I wish I could go back and change.”

“Had you never left, he never would have ended up in Georgia. He wouldn’t have taken that job. Not even for his ex wife.”

“I think you’re giving me too much credit. There’s no way he would have turned that job down. Even if I fought him tooth and nail about it. Mia knew exactly what she was doing; she knew that preying on his guilt and his regret would get him to do what she wanted.”

“She wanted the best. Just like you did.”

“She used him. She used his deepest and most painful secrets against him. To get what she wanted. And nothing I said would have made a difference. He would have taken that job regardless.”

“Millie would have been the difference. She was almost two. If you’d stuck around and the two of you went through it together? Having her? She would have made all the difference in the world. He wouldn’t have taken the chance. Of never getting home.”

“And then what would have happened? To the sister-in-law and the kids? If he hadn’t gone…”

“Mia would have had to find someone else.”

Esme sighs.

“There is no way he would have agreed to that job. Not if you were still in his life. And especially if Millie was. He wouldn’t have done that to her. To EITHER of you.”

“God, I really DID fuck up, didn’t I? In more ways than I ever realized.”

“There’s always a bigger picture.”

“If I’d stayed, the chances of us having Millie would have been slim to none. The High Table would have made sure of that. We wouldn’t have gotten through that. Had they come back and found us there and Tyler tried to put up a fight, they would have killed us. In the most gruesome ways possible. And he didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to pay for something I did.”

“You don’t think he paid for them AFTER you left? That he didn’t pay for them for the last five years? I saw him at his worst. When he was barely hanging on. He spent an entire year looking for you. He turned down every job Nik offered him; he did nothing but travel the globe, trying to track you down. No matter how small the lead he was, he was going to check it out. And all that time, we knew where you were.”

“I never should have dragged you into it. I never…”

“We lied to him that entire time. We knew how you were doing, and where you were living. We knew about Millie. And we kept that from him. All that time.”

“Have you just been lying in wait for five years? To dump all of this on me? Just biding your time until I seemed ready to hear it?”

“Someone has to say it.”

“Oh trust me, Tyler hasn’t held back. He has said way more than you have. And not just once, either.”

“I’m not saying all of this to be an asshole. Or to hurt you. I know what you’ve been carrying around because of all this. I know it hasn’t been easy; not having him in the picture and raising Millie on your own. But I just feel for the guy, you know? He lost way more than you did. You at least HAD a part of him. You left him with NOTHING.”

“You don’t think I know all of this? That I haven’t been beating myself up since the day I left him? I don’t need you hating on me. I do enough of that for BOTH of us.”

“I’m not hating on you. I never could. I’m just saying things that need to be said. I feel bad for him, alright? Not just for you taking off and hiding out for the past five years. But for not even letting him know that you were okay. That’s the least I could have done.”

“I don’t know what it is you want from me. I’ve apologized. Over and over and over again. To you, to Nik, to Millie, to Tyler. I don’t know what more I can do. To get people to forgive me. Especially him.”

“Nik and I? We’re just as guilty for everything as you are. We could have stopped the bullshit. For his sake. But we didn’t And as far as Tyler goes? I don’t know, he doesn’t seem to be holding that big of a grudge. If he’s even holding one at all.”

“I hurt him. Badly. And not just once, either. The only person that’s ever loved me for ME. Who taught me that not all men hit and love isn’t supposed to hurt. And look what I did to him. How I repaid him. And if leaving wasn’t bad enough…”

“I think he might be further along in the ‘getting over it department’. He’s here, isn’t he? Stepping up to the plate. No matter how tired or how much he’s hurting. . He didn’t take off in New York; when he found out you were the client.”

“He very easily could have.”

“But he didn’t. He stuck around. Because it WAS you. Because he never got over you. He probably never would have. Not really. That guy held out hope for five years; that you’d just come walking back in as quickly as you walked out.”

“And I wanted to. Many, many, MANY times.”

“I know you were worried about rejection. That he’d turn you away. Not want anything to do with you or Millie. But there was never…EVER…a reason to worry about that. It wouldn’t have mattered what he was doing or who he was with, he would have dropped everything to be with you. It’s all he’s ever wanted. And then having a kid on top of that? That he didn’t know about? There’s no way he would ever turn all of that down.”

“He wanted to be a dad again. We used to talk about it every so often. I knew he was scared; he admitted he was worried about fucking things up. But he was willing to jump right into the deep end. No matter how terrified he was. He knew how much I wanted it; a chance to be a mom. And that I wanted that with HIM.”

“There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you. Even face his worst fears. I know he’s not invincible. No one is. But you sure as hell make him feel that way.”

She smiles wistfully. “Sometimes I think I even SEE him that way. That there’s nothing he can’t do. No one he can’t protect me from. He was the first person who ever made me feel safe. Protected. I didn’t even know I NEEDED to feel those things.”

“So what happened? Five years ago. What made you run? What…?”

“He wasn’t a hundred percent. He was still healing. From Dhaka. And he wouldn’t have stood a chance against The High Table. NO ONE stands a chance against them.” She glances away as she attempts to fight back a flood of threatening tears. “ Tyler would have fought for me. Until his very last breath. And they would have done horrible, horrible things to him. In front of me. They would have made me watch. And I couldn’t let that happen, Yaz. I couldn’t let him sacrifice himself for me. He’d already done it once. In Dhaka. I didn’t want there to be a second time. Not for a mistake I made.”

“There were other ways. Nik and I would have helped. We would have found a place; for the two of you to hide out while we took care of things.”

“I wasn’t exactly thinking rationally. I was terrified. That I’d lose him. Permanently. That they’d kill him. It would have been all my fault and I never would have been able to live with myself. The choice I made? I made it for him. Because I loved him. I wanted to keep him safe. And I didn’t know how else to do it.”

“He should have been given the chance. To help.”

“I couldn’t risk it. I just couldn’t. Everything I did that day, I did to protect him. I don’t regret the choice I made; sacrificing my happiness to make sure that he’d be okay. But believe me, I regret so many other things. So many other decisions I made. But I can’t take them back. I can never make it up to him. Not completely. I hurt the one person who made me feel human again. Who made me feel beautiful and wanted. Who made me realize I was worth something. To SOMEONE. And look what I did. Look how bad I hurt him. I can’t ever take that back.”

“That’s the unfortunate part of it. You can’t.”

“I don’t even know why he stuck around. When he found out I was the client. He had every reason to turn around and walk away. He didn’t know about Millie yet. Not at that point. Nothing was keeping him there. He didn’t know he was a dad.”

“YOU kept him there. That’s all he needed. It’s all he’s needed for five years. Did you honestly think he’d just turn around and walk away?”

“I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t know how he’d react. It had been five years. It could have gone either way, I guess. He could have still been really pissed or he could have been completely over it. Over ME.”

“He never got over you. I don’t think he ever would have.”

“I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve HIM. Not after everything I’ve done. Yet here he is. Sticking around. Wanting a life with me. Why? After I hurt him so badly. Why would he still want that? Why would he still want ME?”

“He loves you. Simple as that. Does it need to be more than that? Isn’t that enough? He just LOVES you.”

“It’s enough. It’s more than enough, believe me. And it’s way more than I deserve.”

*****

Several minutes of silence pass before she speaks again; casting a glance over her shoulder, towards the house.

“How has he been? Since we got here??”

“He’s been hurtin’. Got himself pretty banged up in that accident. Wouldn’t let the doctor take a look at him, though.”

“Tyler not taking care of himself? Being stubborn as hell? Colour me surprised.”

“He’s been hanging in there though. Pushing himself through it. He’s been worried, though. About you. Can’t say I blame him. We’ve all been worried.”

“I don’t remember much. Just bits and pieces. But I know that every time I woke up, no matter how out of it I was, he was there. Ready, willing, and able to take care of me.”

“He didn’t leave your side much during the first few days. And didn’t trust many people with you. Not even the doctor and nurse were off his radar.”

“He’s always been a little…protective.”

“Just a bit.”

“What about Millie? I kind of threw them both to the wolves. Just dropped them right into the deep end without even a warning. Has she been alright? With him?”

“Are you kidding me? That kid is in her glory. They BOTH are. I mean, she’s finally got a dad. And not just any dad, HER dad. Her flesh and blood. And man, when I tell you she’s just like him…”

“Kinda scary, isn’t it? How much of him is in there? As if looking just like him isn’t enough, some of that personality just had to trickle down, too.”

“Some of it? There’s a lot of Tyler in her. And I’m still trying to figure out if that’s good or bad.”

“I like to think she got the best parts of both of us. Especially those parts of him that he doesn’t let everyone see. But, honestly, the mouth on her…”

“She’s definitely her father’s child.”

“Momma!” Millie’s bare feet slap against smooth stone as she races towards her, one of her plastic sand pails clasped tightly in both hands. Usually reserved for rock and seashell hunting on the beach, it now carries water and a selection of flowers. Vivid purple orchids, snow-white tulips, and brilliant orange roses. “Look it! Look what we got!”

“Oh my goodness…” Accepting the ‘gift’ from her daughter, she slides over in the chair, making room for the four-year-old to squeeze in beside her. Sheer pride and unbridled happiness glow in Millie’s eyes as she wraps both arms around her mom’s torso; beaming up at her as she rests her head on Esme’s chest. “...for me?”

“Just for you. Daddy helped me pick them.”

“All my favourites! They’re beautiful. I bet I can guess where you got these from. Auntie Nik’s front garden, right?”

Millie gives a sheepish smile, then giggles into her mother’s breast.

“I won’t tell her if you won’t. Thank you…” Wincing slightly as she leans forward to place the pail on the table, she takes Millie’s face in her hands; pressing kisses to her cheeks and lips. “....I love them. But not nearly as much as I love you.”

“I love you, mommy. I’m sorry I was mean. In New York City. That I said bad things to you. I was just upset.”

“I know you were. And you had every right to be. Your entire world was just turned right upside down, wasn’t it?”

Millie nods.

“But I love you. More than you could ever possibly know. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Well, other than your dad of course.”

“I’m going to ignore how casually you said that,” Tyler says ss he sets a tray of food and drinks on the table. “How big of a smart ass you sounded.”

“You love daddy.” Millie declares. “Don’tcha”

“I do. I love him very, very much. I always have. And now things are going exactly the way they should. I’m feeling better, in a few days we’ll be on our way to Australia and our new life.”

“And living in our new home. Our FOREVER home.”

“Exactly. And you’re going to love it there. I think it’s exactly where you’re meant to be. The perfect place for someone like you. All that sunshine and all that water and all those animals. Not to mention it’s in your blood; being an Aussie. Well, in HALF of it anyway.”

“And then I’ll get to go to school and meet new friends! And you and daddy will get married and have lots of babies!”

“Okay, slow your row. We’re not even home yet. And besides, I never said anything about LOTS.”

“Are you going to come, Uncle Yazzie?” Millie inquires as she tends to helping unload the various dishes from the tray. Carefully setting a mug of tea, a plate of cheese toast, and a bowl of fruit salad in front of her mom. “When mom and dad get married?”

“I hope I’m invited.”

“I get to wear a really pretty dress! Momma said I can pick it out! And I get to wear my Spiderman sandals too!”

“Because you’re not Millie if you didn’t.” Esme drops a kiss on the top of her head. “And you know what? We’ll even get you a brand-new pair. Just so you can wear them with your dress.”

“And then you and daddy will get married and start having babies and…”

“What is your obsession with me having babies?”

“I REALLY want to be a big sister. It’s just been me all this time! I want a brother or a sister. Mostly a sister. So we can do things together. We can play dolls and ride bikes and go to the beach and do each other’s hair and nails and…”

“You do realize that even IF I had a baby right away, you’d be five years older, right? By the time they’re old enough to do those things, you’re probably not going to want anything to do with them. They’ll be too young for you to want to hang out with.”

“I’ll still want to hang with them. They’re my sister. Sisters are supposed to do things together.”

“And what if you get a brother?”

“Well, I won’t be happy about it, but I’ll deal, I guess.”

“And probably beat on them. And torment them.”

“Maybe just a bit. Here, mom…” Sliding the plate of cheese toast over, she selects a piece. Blowing a steady stream of air onto it to cool it down, then holding it up to Esme’s lips.. “...eat.”

“I am perfectly capable of feeding myself, baby girl. I appreciate you wanting to help, but…”

“Daddy said that it’s up to us to take care of you. Until you’re all better. He said that we’re a team; we work together to keep an eye on you and help you out. And that’s what I’m doing.”

“Whether I like it or not, huh?”

“Exactly!”

“Geez…” Esme grins at Tyler as he drops into the chair beside her, playfully nudging him with her elbow before briefly laying her head on his shoulder. “...I wonder where she gets THAT from.”

She wakes to a storm raging outside the window; lightning splitting the sky as thunder rumbles, wind rattles the windows, and rain patters against the glass. Sighing loudly, she rolls from her side to her back; any discomfort kept at bay the medication taken shortly before she’d settled in for the night. Eyes squinting into the darkness, she finds herself greeted by the glow of Millie’s iPad as it rests on Tyler’s thigh as he sits beside her; headphones on, eyes riveted on the screen. So invested that he doesn’t react when she gingerly sits up and slides closer to him; not acknowledging her until she moves the headphone off his right ear and places a kiss on his temple, then his cheek. Nuzzling it with the tip of her nose.

“Hey.”

Removing the headset, he presses pause on the iPad and turns it screen down. Giving her that soft, loving smile that creases his eyes and fills out his cheeks. “Hey.”

Laying a hand on his stomach, she presses a series of kisses along the line of his jaw, then rests her head on his shoulder. “What are you doing up?”

“I was just going to ask you the same thing.”

“I had a really weird dream.”

“Weird as in bad or…?”

“Weird as in weird. It was about The Kimberley. Being back in that old shack of yours. Millie was there too; she was just a tiny baby and she was wearing this cute little bubblegum pink onesie. You were carrying her around and telling her all about the koalas and kangaroos and big spiders. And all about the ocean; about swimming and surfing and how the shark spotters call people out of the water.”

“Gotta start ‘em young.”

“It would have been hard. Raising a kid there. In the middle of nowhere.”

“Well, that was never the plan. We would have already been in Broome. When she was born.”

“We should take her there. To the old place. Let her see how things were before she was even a twinkle in my eye. I highly doubt it’s liveable now, so we couldn’t stay there, but…”

“I still own it though. We could always fix it up. Add onto it. Make it a place we can just take off to. When we just need to get away from the city.”

“The city.” Esme laughs. “Broome is hardly a city.”

“Not by your standards, maybe. Miss ‘studio apartment in Brooklyn, New York’.”

“I think she’s going to love it there. In Australia. She is HALF Aussie, after all.”

“The best half of her is, at least.”

“The best half,” she scoffs, then reaches up to flick the tip of his nose with her thumb and forefinger. “You wish! More like the half that’s an enormously stubborn pain in my ass.”

“You know you love me. That you’d be completely miserable without me.”

“I do love you.” She speaks between kisses to the underside of his chin. “Very, very, very much. And believe me, I WAS completely miserable without you. I don’t want to ever do that again. Be away from you that long.”

“Well lucky for you, I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

“I might become really, really, REALLY clingy, you know. At least for a little while.”

“I can handle clingy. Especially when it has an ass like yours.”

“And needy. Extremely needy. And demanding. CRAZY demanding.”

“Are we talking in the dirty sense or…”

“As dirty as we can get, baby.”

“Then I can DEFINITELY do crazy and demanding. Figuratively and literally.”

“Look at you. Busting out the big words. Pretty impressive for a big, bad, mercenary man.”

Grinning, he gently and playfully tousles her messy hair. “And you say I’m a pain in the ass.”

“Why ARE you awake? I thought you’d be exhausted. I heard through the grapevine that Millie’s been keeping you on your toes. Wearing you out in your old age.”

“First you call me fat, now you’re calling me old. What’s next?”

“Impotent?”

“Don’t even put that out into the universe. That’s not right.”

“Considering you’re a horny high schooler trapped in the body of a forty-year-old man, I don’t think you’ll ever have a problem like THAT. Seriously though, aren’t you tired? I know what a handful she can be. She’s so much like you. Can’t sit still for too long, always wants to try new things, isn’t scared of a damn thing…”

“I’m scared of a lot, believe me. I learned just how scared I could be. Seeing you in that SUV. Thinking you were dead. Of all the things I’ve been through, the things I’ve survived, the people I’ve gone against? Nothing was as bad as that. I’ve never been that afraid of anything, but at the moment…” He takes a deep, quivering breath.. “...let’s just say I don’t ever want to go through anything like that ever again.”

“I promise I’ll be on my best behaviour from here on out. Once we’re home, that part of me is gone. I get to start a whole new life. With you and Millie. The only two people that really matter.”

“You think you’re going to be happy? Being a good little housewife? Staying home and raising kids?”

“After everything I’ve gone through in the last ten years, I’m going to be ECSTATIC to live like that. Think you’re going to be alright with you? Doing normal things? Having a normal job? A wife and a kid?”

“I was alright with it five years ago, yeah? Why wouldn’t I be okay with it now?”

“Baby…” She presses a handful of kisses on the side of his neck. “...you always have the best answers. You may be a man of few words, but when you DO talk…”

“I had to learn, didn’t I? When we started living together? To watch the shit I say? And how I say it? I wasn’t used to that; worrying about someone else’s feelings.”

“You learned pretty quick, though. Mostly because I’m a mouthy bitch who doesn’t hesitate when it comes to putting you in your place.”

“Small but mighty. The only person on this earth I’m legitimately terrified of. Even if I can pick you up and carry you around in my pocket.”

Rolling her eyes, she playfully pinches his stomach, head on his chest as she drums her fingernails on the iPad. “So what were you watching?”

“Nothing important.”

“It wasn’t porn, was it? The least you could do is save that kind of stuff for when I’m healed a little more. So we can watch it together. And let things…you know…progress from there. Nudge, nudge, wink, wink.”

“You are a dirty girl, Esme.”

“In the ways you love best.”

“And no, I wasn’t watching porn.”

“Good, because…”

“I watched that earlier.”

“Oh God,” she groans and attempts to move away. Laughing when he lightly tickles and pinches her side and then pulls her into him, tucking her body tightly and protectively against his, hand coming to rest on her hip.

“I wasn’t watching porn. Not now, not earlier. I was watching other stuff.”

“Stuff, huh? What kind of stuff?” Reaching for the iPad, she scowls when he lays his palm on top of it, preventing her from flipping the device over. “What’s your issue?”

“What’s yours?”

“I just want to know what you were watching. Why is it such a secret? Why are you hiding things from me?”

“It’s not a secret. And I’m not hiding anything.”

“Then why won't you tell me what it is? Don’t be so sketchy.”

“I’m not being anything. I was just watching some stuff. On youtube. It’s not a big deal.”

“If it’s not a big deal, you’d tell me what was. Surfing videos? Football highlights?”

“No. And no. Like I said, just…stuff.”

“You’re being very weird about this. Unless…” Her eyes narrow. “...you weren’t really watching anything. You were chatting and sexting and sending someone dirty pictures. Or they were sending YOU pics.”

“That’s exactly it. You figured it out. I was totally sexting with someone. Sending dick pics.”

She frowns.

“Are you kidding me right now? Do you honestly believe that? I just spent five years wondering where the hell you were and if you’d just show up on my doorstep one day. Do you honestly think I’m going to fuck this all up? When things are finally going the way they should have way back when? I know I’m not the smartest guy on the planet, but give me SOME credit.”

“I have never said you were stupid. Or even insinuated it. But to be this secretive over videos you’re watching on YouTube…”

“I just don’t want you to make a big deal out of it.”

“Christ, how bad are these videos?”

“They’re not bad at all. They’re just…I don’t know…kinda lame, I guess. I just don’t want you laughing at me. That happens, I might have to kill you.”

“I’d like to see you try. I’ve got nine lives, Tae. And I haven’t even used up half yet. But if you’re THIS embarrassed about whatever you were doing, keep your secrets. That’s three in one day, you know. Stars Wars, The Muppet Show, sketchy videos on the internet.

“They’re not sketchy. They’re just not what you’d expect. Can’t a guy browse the ‘net in peace?”

“How do I know you’re not googling the easiest ways to kill me and dispose of my body?”

“Because that would be a waste of time. I already know those things.”

Esme scowls.

“Fine. If you wanna see, I’ll show you. But I swear, if you make even one small smart-ass remark…”

“Get a grip. I’m not going to laugh at you or make fun of you.” Turning the iPad over, she presses play; watching for several seconds before pausing it and glancing up at him. Brows arched quizzically. “A hair braiding tutorial? Why…?”

“I’m doing it for Millie.”

“She told you to watch it or…?”

“The first night here, she told me how you always braid her hair before bed. Because of how knotty it gets when she sleeps I didn’t know how to do it. And I’ve been so caught up with other things, I haven’t had the chance to get her to teach me. And you weren’t able to do it, so I just pawned her off on Nik.”

“I could have taught you. It’s honestly not that hard. Even Millie would have taught you. She was three when she learned how to do it on her Barbie dolls.”

“I just figured I’d look it up and learn on my own. I mean, I’m a girl dad now. I should know how to do these things.”

As a slow smile spreads across her face, she reaches up to playfully tug at some of the wiry hair on the underside of his chin. “Baby, you are so cute.”

Tyler frowns. “Shut up.”

“Despite what you think, being called ‘cute’ is NOT an insult.”

“To me it is.”

“Well, to ME, you’re a six foot three, two hundred and twenty-pound ball of walking cuteness.”

“Esme, fuck off.”

“Would it make you feel better if I said that it’s sexy? Watching you embrace the whole girl-dad lifestyle? Seeing you playing with her and drawing pictures and colouring. You even watch Bluey with her. That takes some real courage and balls, you know. To sit through that show.”

“I suppose being called sexy for doing all that stuff IS better. Somewhat.”

“Well, I find it incredibly sexy. You in ‘dad mode’. It’s even better than I ever daydreamed about. And that’s saying something because those daydreams were pretty damn good.”

“I just want to do right by her. Not fucks things up a second time.”

“For what it’s worth, you’re off to a really good start. From what I’ve heard AND seen.”

“Scary as hell, though. Not gonna lie.”

“Do you want to tell me what’s so unsettling? What’s scaring you so much? Is it because you’re worried about things going wrong? Like they did with Austin? Are you worried about making a mistake or making bad choices or…?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what it is. I’m just…terrified. Maybe there’s not even a reason. Or a sound one, anyway. Maybe it’s just all in my head.”

“In all fairness, you’ve had a lot dropped on you in the past week and a half. Enough shit to last most people a lifetime. Maybe it’s all just coming to a head, you know? Having that all put in your lap at once. Seeing me again, finding out about Millie, us trying to put things together and work through our shit. Well, MY shit. All of this messiness IS my fault.”

“It’s a lot. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t. But it’s not as messy as you think. Trust me, I know messy. I AM messy.”

“A hot messy, though,” she teases. “VERY hot, actually.”

“God your taste in men is fucked up.”

“Hey, it WAS. If you saw my ex-husband, you’d realize what a huge step up you are.”

“Have you ever thought of seeing a therapist? For your horrible life choices? Because if this is the type of men you’re attracted to…”

“You’re not as messy as you think you are. I wouldn’t be with you if you were. Do you honestly think I would have hooked up with you in Dhaka if you were THAT bad?”

“If you were desperate enough.”

“Listen, buddy, I’d already gone eighteen months without a hook-up. And had you not come along, I would have gone even longer. If being with Mark taught me anything, it was to be more discerning when it came to men. Do you really think I didn’t have any options? Between you and him?”

“I don’t even want to consider that. The thought of you with other people…”

“The point I’m trying to make is that you’re not nearly as messy as you think you are. I’d already been one with one extremely messy man, I sure as hell wasn’t going to hook up with another one. Look…” Removing the tablet from his lap, she gingerly moves onto her knees; his hands immediately securing her by the hips as she carefully straddles his thighs. Using gentle fingertips, she clears the longer strands of hair off his forehead before cradling his face in her hands. “...I’m not going to pretend to know what you’re scared of. I’m not even going to try and guess. Or put words in your mouth. And I know when you figure it out yourself and are ready to tell me, you will.”

“I wouldn’t keep that from you. You’re the only person who knows everything about me. Even all the ugliest, darkest of things.”

“You know what I DO know, though? I know that Millie loves you. And trusts you. That was obvious before she even found out you were her daddy. Right from day one you made her feel safe and important. She loved you for YOU. Not just because you helped make her. That just makes everything she feels even bigger and stronger. You see that, right? How much she loves you? Trusts you?”

Tyler nods. “Reminds me of you.”

“Look how messed up we both were when we met. Look at all the baggage we were carrying around. It shouldn’t have worked; two broken people barely staying afloat yet somehow trying to find something…anything…between them. Remember what Gaspar said? About how two broken people can’t fix one another? They can’t come together to be a whole? That they’d only make each other worse? Destroy one another?”

“Fuck him. He had no clue what he was talking about.”

“Exactly. Fuck him. Fuck anyone that thought that everything was wrong between us and that nothing could be right. It wasn’t the ideal situation. We agree on that. But I don’t regret it happened. Or why, how, or where. Do you?”

“I’ve never regretted it. Not even when you took off. I’ve never regretted you. Us.”

“I knew who you were. I know what you did for a living. Even before we met, I’d heard all the stories. About the people you’d gone against, about your kill sheet. I was in that life, too. I was part of it. And then you filled in all those blanks; told me your deepest and darkest secrets and regrets and everything that tried to break you but didn’t. There were other things, too. You LET me see you. The real you. Outside of that life. Yeah, you were messy. But I still fell in love with you. Just like Millie did. As soon as she heard your mint chocolate chip was also your favourite ice cream, that was it for her. That’s all she needed.”

He gives a small chuckle.

“She LOVES you. And she loves LIKE you. With everything she has. She’s a little girl, but she has a massive heart. You’ve seen it yourself. How fiercely and deeply she loves.”

“I have. Especially when it comes to her mum.”

“I’m sorry I kept her from you. I wish she could have loved you from the very start. But she has a long life ahead of her. And so do you. That’s a lot of time with her, Tyler. And she’s already attached to your hip. She’s already a daddy’s girl. Imagine what she’ll be like in a few weeks or months. Years. If you think she’s clingy now….”

“She can be as clingy as she wants. That’s my baby. My little girl.”

“I never doubted your abilities as a father. Not for a second. You were a great dad to Austin. You made some mistakes; you weren’t around as often as you should have been, sometimes you chose the military over your family, and you left him when he needed you the most. But…”

“How can there be a ‘but’? How…?”

“He loved you. With everything he had. You were his hero. He didn’t die hating you. Or thinking you hated him. He died knowing you loved him. Thinking you were brave and strong And you need to try and remember that.”

“Have you been talking to my ex-wife? Don’t tell me you’ve been friends with her all this time, too.”

“I’ve never met her. I don’t think I ever want to. That’s just…I don’t know…awkward for me. But I know what she’s told Alcott. When I sent him fishing for information. I kept an eye on you. In the only way I knew how.”

“You spied on me, you mean.”

“I was worried about you. I may have walked out, but I didn’t stop caring. I didn’t stop loving you. And I just wanted to make sure that you were okay. That you weren’t unnecessarily putting yourself at risk. I just wanted to know you were alright.”

“I was far from alright. Regardless of what people told you.”

“But you didn’t let them see that, did you? I know you, Tyler. Better than you know yourself. I’m the person that you ‘let in’. That you showed every part of yourself, too. And I know how quickly you can turn it all off. For the sake of the job. For self-perseverance.”

“I can’t do it anymore. Or at least I couldn’t do it in New York. Turn it off.”

“You did everything right in New York. You were handling both sides of things. You knew exactly what I needed WHEN I needed it; job Tyler or normal Tyler. Nothing that happened in New York was your fault. Things go wrong. You know that.”

“Seeing you like that, thinking you were dead…”

“But I’m here, right? You made sure of it. A little worse for wear, but I AM here.”

“So this what it’s like when the shoe’s on the other foot, huh? Guess I’m getting a taste of my own medicine. Everything you went through…everything you did for me…after Dhaka.”

“I did it because I wanted to. Because I was already in love with you. You, you got your absolution. You deserved to live. But I had my reasons for what I did, Purely selfish ones. I liked being with you. I liked how you looked at me. How you made me feel. It was like you thought I was the most beautiful thing in the world.”

“I did think that. I still do.”

“And I wanted more of that. I still do. I’ve always wanted you. A life with you. And I’m sorry things didn’t go the way we planned. But now we can make new ones. Have new dreams. And the best part is that Millie exists. She’s here. We get to do all of that WITH her.”

“She’s amazing, Me. I don’t know what I ever did deserve her, but it must have been pretty damn good.”

“You loved her mother. Even on those days when she couldn’t love herself. ESPECIALLY on those days.”

“Falling in love with you was the smartest thing I’ve ever done. And the scariest.”

“It’s nice, isn’t it? Knowing we proved Gaspar wrong. We DID make each other better.”

“We still do.”

“Think we can keep it up?” She trails the pad of her thumb along his lips. “For…I don’t know…the next forty, fifty years?”

“Yeah…” Smiling, he combs his fingers through her hair; settling his palm on the nape of her neck and gently pulling her into a kiss. “...I think we can.”

#Tyler and Esme series #Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fanfic #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction #Extraction 2 #Extraction fanfic #Extraction fan fiction #Tyler Rake x OFC #Chris Hemsworth #Esme Drummond #Esme Rake

[paper-gold-theories]

What if there was a thing called Villain Rehab where hero's take villains to rehabilitate them into heros

Heck- They even have a handbook guide on how to on how to look after their villains (Interogations, Heroic excerisies, how to handle escape attempts, make sure they don't become depressed, ect) with rules for the heros like don't kill your villain and don't fall for the villain before they become reformed

I imagine when Goldheart defeats Flug instead of leaving he picks him up and begins to fly away with flug who assumes he's taking him to jail only to notice that their heading to the hero agency and questions what's going on.

In which Goldheart mentions "Just a little thing called Villain rehab", however his tone makes Flug think some freaky brainwashing shits about to happen and tries to escape

P.E.A.C.E. having cheesy orientation videos like Black Hat Organization for their rehab centers and handbooks for heroes would be absolutely hilarious.😂

____

GoldHeart captures Flug and takes away all his weapons and lands outside of a hero agency. Flug asks him where on earth did he take him. GoldHeart replies in a low tone, that he is taking Flug to "rehab". Flug thought he was going to be brainwashed and started struggling against his grip, trying to escape from him.

GoldHeart, amused, went along with it to see what Flug will do and trails after him at an easygoing pace. Flug ran all the way to a building with an elevator and took it all the way to the top floor, only to see GoldHeart there when Flug came out of the elevator.

Flug shocked, asked him how did he know which floor he would go to. GoldHeart shrugs and says he looked at the floor indicator screen and flew at super speeds up the stairs.

GoldHeart then proceeds to carry Flug over his shoulder again and takes the elevator down before continuing their way outside and towards the hero agency.

Flug panickedly held onto a lamp post along the way and GoldHeart just ripped off the lamp post from the ground and carried Flug with it, much to Flug's shock. (GoldHeart could just have pulled Flug away from the lamp post but he just thought this way was funnier.)

GoldHeart, predicting the reason for Flug's behavior, finally explained that they were going to an actual rehabilitation center to reform villains into heroes. He's not going to brainwash or mind-control Flug or something like that.

----

Flug, finally understanding: Oh, you mean like therapy?

GoldHeart: Yes!

Flug: Take me to prison instead…

GoldHeart: Flug!

----

Even though the staff has a handbook on how to handle escape attempts, Flug does a crazy maniac escape plan a week later on Christmas Eve that no one would expect, while GoldHeart was busy at an event.

He built a rocket and attached it onto a Christmas Tree, before crashing through the roof and riding it off into the night. GoldHeart had to fly after him all around town just to get him back to the rehab.

(One exploding tree later)

GoldHeart interrogated staff and guards (Flug wasn't going to say anything) on how Flug managed to sneak and build a rocket into a Christmas tree.

Apparently, Flug found a glitch and flaw in the electronic ordering system and ordered a total of 3000 happy meals (GoldHeart: Flug! WTF!?) to be served to him for the week, but barely ate any of it, and slowly drained out all the oil from the burgers and fries to be used as jet fuel, and found a room with broken appliances and used the equipment to build a rocket and attaching the tree by hollowing out the inside of it while he was helping to decorate...

GoldHeart faced palms. He didn't know whether to be infuriated or impressed!!Probably both.

He went back to Flug's room who insisted he needs to get back home and to work at Black Hat Organization, while GoldHeart tries to convince him to try to at least take the rehab seriously for at least 2 months, if he does so, he can get him a probation.

Flug agreed, definitely because he needed to think of a new escape plan, (yup, definitely not because GoldHeart gave him a sad adorable golden retriever puppy dog look..)

But he didn't want to do any planned interrogation sessions. GoldHeart accepted the compromise.

Flug went to the activities in the rehab like the several types therapy sessions and exercise sessions while GoldHeart visits him when he can when he is not doing hero stuff to have a friendly conversation see how he's doing with the therapy and the progress, while Flug pleasantly shared with him that he’s doing well and asks him how’s he’s hero work, which GoldHeart also enthusiasticaly shares. So for 2 months, everything is going well...

Until Flug staged another escape plan while GoldHeart was busy with another mission. By the time GoldHeart was informed and reached the facility, he saw the Hat-Ship had already broken into the city and the carnage of beaten up guards left by the Villainous gang. The last thing he saw was Flug in the hat ship getting a hug from 5.0.5. and a friendly noogie from Demencia inside the Hat-Ship, before the before it flew off in high speeds. GoldHeart tried to keep but couldn’t because the hat-ship had somehow upgraded its engine while Flug is in the rehab.

GoldHeart and some P.E.A.C.E. officers tried to interrogate the guards, staff and the inmates on how did Flug manage to escape the facility, considering that he has been banned from using any technology (e.g. TVs) and was carefully monitored, after his last escape attempt. They eventually found out from some of the inmates that Flug has been doing a secret barter trade with the patients by making makeshift alcohol and drugs with only ingredients from the kitchen in exchange for multiple favors. With Flug being secretive and all patients kept giving different contradicting stories, (GoldHeart suspected might have asked also for random favors to throw them off) they had no idea how to piece the info on how Flug managed to inform his team to escape and do all this without the guards and staff knowing.

Overall GoldHeart felt frustrated that Flug was able to escape his clutches again.

------

A week later GoldHeart got an email. Noticing it’s from Flug’s BHO email address, he opened it up immediately. Flug wrote that the rehab did help him a little bit, so he felt he should at least give GoldHeart an explanation on how he escaped.

Flug suspected that the inmates might have told GoldHeart and P.E.A.C.E. about his barter trade but didn't know the exact details. He said that in exchange for makeshift alcohol and drugs he asked the inmates for scrap metal, in order to build the communicator to send messages to his team and explain his plan for them to charge in and break him out of the facility. He also sent a code to order and program his Hat-Bots to modify the Hat-Ship engine fast enough so that it can outfly GoldHeart.

How he was able to do all this without the guards and staff knowing was by asking some of the inmates for favors to put a paper bag over their heads and pretend to be him to distract the guards and staff while he goes to a secluded area to initiate his plan.

(GoldHeart laughed and couldn't help but be impressed by Flug's ingenuity and creativity, as he continues to read the email)

Afterwards, Flug said when he came back Black Hat was immorally pissed at him for taking an unprompted leave and had mountains and mountains of piled up work from over 2 months. But he said that he does feel a lot better after rehab and the therapy sessions help him deal and process some things about himself better. So, he thanks GoldHeart and appreciates him for bringing him there.

This put a smile on GoldHeart’s face and gave him hope that Flug could still be redeemed.

#villainous #villanos #dr flug #dr kenning flugslys #goldheart #gold heart #herbert leth #villainous fanfic #flug #villainous headcanons #505 villainous #villainous demencia #villainous blackhat #black hat organization

[altocat]

I am watching the Rebirth demo and I am really impressed at how much better the scene is where Seph talks about Hojo??

In the og he seems so cold and dismissive of this scientist he refers to as though he knew him in the past, who was a walking mass of complexes and inexperienced. It feels slightly detached and like Seph is just trash-talking. (The only thing they should have kept was the detail of how he still remembers how angry Hojo was, because that says a lot…)

In Rebirth it literally looks and feels like Seph had a wave of strong memory hit him and couldn’t help but bring up the image that struck him.

“I know someome who’d be livid to hear you call it weird, or magic for that matter. I can just imagine what he’d say….”

It feels very present, very poignant, and his imitation of Hojo is a little too accurate. Them just his body language when Cloud/Zack asks him who is talking about, his slight hesitation, his grim tone, the way he turns away and lowers his head, sighing like he’s just…tired. This was all so good. It told us a lot more.

One of the things I really need to see expanded on is Seph and Hojo’s relationship because I would say it’s one of the key elements to Seph’s madness. Hojo was insane and I think he wanted his son to be just like him—also insane. Maybe so that they could finally see eye-to-eye.

I suspect --and take this with an extremely HUGE grain of salt-- that there's the possibility of us witnessing Sephiroth and Hojo's pinnacle falling out scene in The First Soldier, especially if he shows up.

With that said, Seph sounds so tired and defeated when he talks about him in Rebirth. It has the sense of him being unhappy and disappointed. Very depressing.

#asks #ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephcanons #sephiroth #Hojo #First soldier #Ffvii rebirth #ff7r #ff7 remake #ffviir

[stupid-sloot-headcanons]

I must admit that I love your way of writing and you are a very talented person. Something that also makes me happy is that you are interested in the culture of my country, which is great, but I must admit that as a person who has lived All my life in Mexico I have realized that in the United States they usually celebrate days that they believe are holidays in Mexico, such as May 5, although May 5 is a very special day in Mexico since the Battle of Puebla took place. where Mexico managed to defeat France since this country literally had Mexicans enslaved in its own territory, for us Mexicans this day (May 5) is not a day that implies happiness and celebration like in the United States, in Mexico it is a day of mourning because many Mexicans died in a horrible way that day, apart from the fact that for some time Mexico had been suffering a great depression because from 1846 to 1848 the United States stole more than half of our territory and the people who lived in that territory. (you know them as Native Americans but they were Mexican) were subjected to torture, to put it in context, practically the United States did the same thing to Mexico as what is currently happening with Palestine and Israel. This comment is for educational purposes and also as a curiosity because there is a lot of difference in what you believe is a happy day for Mexicans.

Wow, I knew that the US celebrates it differently than in Mexico but I didn't realize that it was mainly a day of mourning over there. I'm sorry if the original post came off across as tone deaf and insensitive, if you want I can try to edit it. I had to study Texas history in school but it was a very...selective curriculum. Like we learn that the US colonized Texas like we did the rest of the current country, but it's glossed over and celebrated in some ways as Texas gaining its independence when the indigenous ppl already living here had their property seized, lives destroyed, and were pushed out of their own homelands.

The culture of Mexican-Americans is smth I'm slightly more familiar with compared to Mexico, and it's always interesting to see just how much a diasporic community and culture can differ and change from the original. Cinco de Mayo is celebrated in a very watered down and commercialized way in the US, and most Americans will just enjoy Americanized Mexican food and that's about the extent of the holiday. The Mexican American friends whose homes I visited during Cinco de Mayo still had a more lively and celebratory atmosphere, where the emphasis was on the pride for defeating the French at the Battle of Puebla. Obviously there was respect for the countless Mexicans who died in the battle and under French colonization, but it was more like a celebration where in the face of oppression, slavery and colonization, Mexicans defeated the colonizers (even if the US did and still does continue to benefit from colonization that they barely acknowledge).

I imagine the reason for the differing view on it is because regardless of heritage, when you're physically removed from the place where something significant happened in your history, the real meaning is harder to remember. The people who live in Mexico to this day are closer in proximity culturally and physically to the effects of the Battle of Pueblaa, but if you're living in Texas/Arizona/New Mexico/any US state that was originally Mexican territory consumed by colonization, the original meaning of the event will change over time. That's not to say that Mexican-Americans are wrong to celebrate it the way they do, just that it's not surprising that there's a major difference in view on it compared to how it's viewed in Mexico. I think it became more about celebration than mourning in the US largely because of the Chicano Movement, but that's just a guess

There's also a bitter irony that white Americans love Cinco de Mayo when our view of it is very commercialized and watered down (just like Mexican food in the US itself with the rise of fast food chains like Taco Bell and us viewing international cuisines in a very broad way--TexMex food has origins in central and northern Mexico, but the average American will simply think of it as "Mexican" when JUST LIKE THE US, Mexico has a lot of regional variation). I guarantee 9/10 of the people eating tacos and sipping sugar-drenched margaritas every year wouldn't know what the Battle of Puebla even is. Tho given your message, I shouldn't be too harsh on those Karens and Roberts since apparently I still have a lot to learn about Mexican history and culture myself lol

[yardsards]

What's your thoughts on: what's the point of the fantasy genre? Why do we tell stories about things that can't exist rather than those based in reality? What is the difference between fantasy and horror?(this is an ask sent to several people to collect opinions, feel free to disregard if you wish not to participate)

i mean the general point of fiction is to tell stories about things that *don't* exist, telling stories about things that *can't* exist is really just the natural extension of that

like, look at most of the oldest surviving stories. a lot of them are fairy tales, or stuff like gilgamesh or the odyssey and whatnot.

and of course there was a wide variety in how plausible the people and cultures creating those fantastical stories thought the stories were, ranging from "this story is purely fantasy" to "this story did not actually happen, but it's plausible and the magic portrayed is real" to "i believe that this story happened with religious certainty" (and i'm sure someone with a bigger background than me in history or anthropology would have something more thought out to say on this matter) but.

it almost feels like fantasy is the *default* for humans telling stories. if anything, "realistic" fiction, creating rules for yourself that this imaginary scenario should be bound by the rules of reality rather than the "rules" of imagination is the unusual one, and is the one that should be considered a genre rather than the default

(though of course it's more of a sliding scale from "totally realistic fiction" to "totally impossible fantasy fiction" rather than a binary)

and also like.

such a large portion of the human experience is internal and intangible. trying to encapsulate it into just describing what characters say and do is generally not enough. so then there's the act of plainly describing what a character is feeling, or narrating their thoughts. but plain words still often aren't enough. saying a character feels melancholy or despondent does not correctly convey the sadness you want to communicate.

so you get poetic. either in your narra*tion*, or in your narra*tive*. you make the intangible into something tangible with symbolism. sometimes the best symbolism to use is something that exists in real life; maybe rotting floorboards in the character's house are the best way to represent the intangible feeling of a painful past. but other times the best symbolism is things that can't exist in real life; maybe a cloud of darkness that eats planets is the best way to represent the intangible feeling of depression and hopelessness.

and sometimes in fantasy, the author doesn't have a singular thing that the impossible thing is meant to represent, and the readers aren't specifically interpreting it as a *metaphor*. like, sometimes the evil dragon isn't specifically meant to represent the terror brought on by fascism or abusive parents or whatever. sometimes the evil dragon is just a generally scary thing that must be defeated. but since a magic dragon is something that we don't have concrete experiences with in our world, i think a lot of people's brains will more readily connect it to our own experiences with scary things like fascism or abusive parents. as opposed to like, a story about an evil guy with a big knife, who is just as much of a scary thing that must be defeated, but is more concrete to us.

and finally: because magic is simply Rad As Hell

as for the similarites/differences between fantasy and horror, i don't have as much to say.

they're two kinda separate concepts. horror can fall anywhere on the fantasy to non-fantasy spectrum. the scary thing in a horror movie could be a magic slime monster or just some regular human with a gun.

"fantasy" is more of a genre description pertaining to the work's relation to reality, akin to "realistic fiction" or "science fiction" or "historical fiction", whereas "horror" is more of a genre description pertaining to the work's tone, akin to "romance" or "comedy" or "tragedy". which i guess kinda illustrates how arbitrary defining what a genre is can be

#eliot posts

[skrunklybf-archived]

armin arlert x f!reader

good girls get good grades; one of the many expectations your parents pressed into you from an early age. a fierce people pleaser, you wanted nothing more than the thick haze of burnout to lift from your shoulders, before you have to run home with your tail between your legs in defeat. good thing your sociology class holds a fellow overachiever.

tags: college au, academic rivals, depression, angst, toxic family dynamics, slow burn romance, multi chapter fic, unclear feelings, reader is an unreliable narrator, eventual fluff

wc: 2.5k

notes: wheeeewwww y'all. WHEEEWWWW. i couldn't decide how to approach this chapter so it's gone through several transformations.....hhhh..... anyways, hope you enjoy eren briefly checking out your ass ♡ love you all

chapters: 01 | 02 | 03

Chapter Three: Flattery

"You looked great up there."

Armin's habit of suddenly appearing behind you was already getting old. Stilling the erratic rhythm in your chest, you slowed your stride a bit to let him catch up.

"Will you stop sneaking up on me?" A small smile betrayed your stern tone. "And... thanks, my grade almost ate shit. I owe you one." The weekend came with a sense of fleeting relief, like holding ice in a burned hand. Time to rinse and repeat, right?

Armin fell into step at your side. He thought about how rarely you actually stop to talk. Always moving, as if your schedule was tightly packed, or poorly planned. He reckoned it could be either at this point.

"Any time. Y'know, it wouldn't be a bad idea to study together more often." The blonde held a sunny aura, something that you wished was more contagious. "I like the way that you think." You knew it was a compliment, but pride didn't swell at his words like it should've. Instead, you peeked at the boy suspiciously from your peripheral.

Shoving your hands in your jacket pockets, you looked thoughtful for a moment. Would that be... weird? What does he mean by that? A chime from your phone called your attention away before you could reply. "Uh, hold on, Armin." Dread squeezed the air from your lungs upon reading the contact name.

Incoming Call

Dad

You stopped walking. Unaware, Armin stopped a few steps ahead of you. It was almost impressive how fast your thumb automatically moved to answer the call despite the blood draining from your face.

"Hi, Dad."

Armin sealed his lips together.

He couldn't pretend to understand the nature of your relationship with your family. Over the few days and several hours you spent next to each other, the blonde watched you ease so slowly back into the familiar rhythm you used to move in, almost as if invisible weights were being dropped from your ankles. It was refreshing. It was interesting. He held a sneaking suspicion whatever icy visage you threw over yourself publicly was just that -- a show, an act. Smiles on your lips weren't as rare as he once thought. Whenever your family was mentioned, though, you were a deer caught in headlights.

"Yeah, I'm finished for the day. I did well on my presentation for soc," eavesdropping is rude, he reminded himself, so Armin angled his body away and pretended to busy himself with his phone as you spoke, "marks should be posted by the end of the night."

How deeply did they monitor you? The blonde chewed his cheek. Something in your voice sounded so artificial and plastic. It seemed glue stuck your feet in place but ignored your hands, thumb flicking over fingertips in a repetitive motion he could only pin as a nervous habit.

Armin caught shade falling down your face. "I know, I was... studying, with my tutor. The library closed and the diner was still a public place, so..."

Ah, right. He still felt awful about the late hour he kept you out the night before. Still, even if you were with him out of pure necessity, Armin found himself enjoying the company. Was it selfish of him? Maybe. It still felt nice to imagine that you didn't hate him as much as he thought.

A separate, familiar voice called to him from across the lawn, dragging him from his thoughts. Eren jogged himself over, messy brunette bun bobbing with each long step. Armin watched you turn and meander a short distance away with your phone pressed firmly against your ear. The two boys exchanged loose greetings ending with Eren shoving a thumb in your general direction, "who's this? Are you waiting for her?" Armin pocketed the phone he only used as a distraction, watching warily as Eren let his eyes wander over you. Why did he say it like that? The blonde looked to you too, facing away and combing a hand through your hair as you talked.

Armin remembered being taken aback by the shift in your appearance that day. Lately your body all but swam in hoodies and sweaters far too big for you, coupled with plain dark jeans and sleepless bags under your eyes. You looked tired, and rightfully so. But that day, Armin could guess what Eren was so non discretely gazing at; his eyes fell down your back, to the curve of your ass, beautifully shaped in a pencil skirt.

He shoved the brunette, the tips of his ears flushing as he tore his eyes away from you. Eren barely budged, chuckling playfully at his friend and muttering "relax, relax" in the air between them.

"I'm walking her home," Armin started, "then we can head to Jean's." A certain brass clung to his words without permission. He wasn't entirely sure where it came from, but he felt a tad grateful for it regardless.

Eren snorted in reply, "why don't you just bring her with?"

"[Y/N] has more important things to do than get drunk with a bunch of random guys."

"Not random," the taller friend interjected, "she'll know both of us, right?"

Both of us?

A rubber band pulled taught in Armin's chest at the implication. Eren Jaeger, his best friend for the majority of his life, the man who never stuttered or faltered when talking -- especially to women. He was a cocktail of confidence and charisma jam packed into a six foot frame, topped with a scrunchie to hold back his mane of dark hair. Armin felt so utterly flat and nondescript in comparison. He felt a flicker of annoyance clench his throat as you turned, eyes landing on the friend in question.

You had pocketed your phone, the jacket wrapped around you doing little for warmth but pulling the look together nicely. Clean, simple, almost professional. "Hey, sorry about that," sighing, your hands found themselves under your bag's strap as you approached them, "anyways, what were you saying, Armin?"

Eren prodded the blonde's side, a shit eating grin spread wide on his face. "I think he was just going to introduce us, right, Armin?"

How interesting. In a logical sense, Armin knew you were the day-and-night opposite of the type of girl Eren usually chased. You were brilliant, determined, ambitious -- wrapped in a very pretty bow and tight lipped smile that he couldn't help but think of when you weren't around. Despite this, that rubber band grew ever tighter as he begrudgingly gave in to his best friend, as per tradition.

The familiar swirl of brain fog and restlessness continued to plague your days and nights. Time in the classroom felt like a physical battle to hold your brain above swampy water. Cerulean eyes watched the slow flicks of your fingers, the steam slowly rising from your ears. The sound of your voice became a rare song during school hours.

Armin found himself missing your roundabout squabbles.

He still sent texts. Sometimes he would be lucky enough to receive a reply. More often than not, they'd be opened hours or even days later, left to sit along the wall of other abandoned 'hello's and 'how are you feeling?'s. Part of him wondered if he was being a nuisance.

Every once in a while, though, you'd send him a message. Always out of the blue, almost never with any sort of context -- just a random question.

[Y/N]: the mountains or the beach?

Sometimes he'd wait to even open it, wondering meekly if you meant to send it to someone else, but Armin would always reply.

Armin: the beach, easy (:

These questions usually came late at night, when you were supposed to be sleeping. When he was supposed to be sleeping. The pattern was slight, but traceable, and sometimes he'd stay up a little longer than he should, hoping to hear the familiar chime.

[Y/N]: when's the last time you went?

Armin: probably last year, with Eren and his ex

And sometimes, sometimes, he'd be rewarded with a pearl of wisdom for his tiresome efforts.

[Y/N]: i've never seen the ocean in person before

[Y/N]: just in documentaries /:

[Y/N]: maybe we could go some time

Maybe he wasn't a nuisance. Maybe the lawyer's daughter was just a bit of a puzzle, one he hadn't quite figured out yet.

Armin: just say the word and i'm there

He wouldn't push. Whatever was pulling you under water wasn't his battle to fight, he thought, and the last thing he wanted was to paint himself as another obstacle. Armin, for reasons he couldn't quite wrap his head around, wanted to be useful to you. He wanted to see the weight lift from your shoulders again.

Though traces of you could be found around campus or online, the realization hit him like a bus one day -- where were your friends? Nobody to chatter at between classes, nobody to discretely text during a lecture. He wondered what you did when you tucked yourself away in your room for the night.

He wondered if you felt lonely, like him.

"Would you say you're satisfied with your accomplishments?"

"I mean... I feel like I should be, but I rarely feel it."

The hum that followed felt hollow. A bit of iron tipped your tongue as nervous energy worked along your jaw, nibbling away at your soft lip skin. Therapy was supposed to be good for you. Why did it feel like a prison sentence?

"Do you think you'd find them more note worthy if they were from a friend or loved one instead?" Julia, the young woman encompassing your laptop screen, tapped a pen to her chin.

Your cuticles were a mess. Picking aimlessly, a sigh dropped your shoulders. "I don't know, I guess so. There's a guy in a few of my classes that... I was jealous of, for a long time. I still kind of am. I wanted to be like him-- want to, be like him," the words quietly swelled over your lips, "I am proud of his work. His... intelligence, his drive. He doesn't have to work so hard to be perfect. Maybe if I can just imitate him a little, things won't be so hard."

The half hour sessions dragged painfully every Sunday afternoon. Somehow the insight was supposed to be comforting, enlightening, and sometimes they were; mostly, though, you'd close your laptop along with your jabbering mouth and take a deep breath. A ring of silence hung over your head like a halo.

Ding!

... for a moment, anyway.

Armin: feel like some pie, on me this time?

Armin: 1 image attachment

A familiar restaurant, coupled with a familiar reflection in the window. Armin and two others -- Eren, (right?) with a taller brunette at his side, smoking a cigarette.

Armin: p.s. there's no cinnamon apple today ): but blueberry's better anyway

A smile tugged at your lips.

[Y/N]: dessert at 2 in the afternoon? how daring and crazy of you

Armin: [Y/N], you of all people should know innovation begins with a crazy idea and the drive to see it through

Running a hand through tangled hair, you found yourself standing and slipping into a less lived-in outfit.

[Y/N]: asinine

[Y/N]: i'll be there soon

A friend, you thought about Julia's question on your way out the door; a friend, and your first thought was the blonde who used to make you want to grit your teeth to dust. The one offering to buy you (supposedly superior) blueberry pie.

Should it be so strange, seeing Armin without a mountain of books sitting between you? Without the laptop screens hiding half of your faces, bathing them in an ominous glow? And his friends -- Eren and... whoever the taller one was -- were they like Armin? Somewhat reserved, witty, and... interesting?

Mulling over the decision you already set in stone, anxiety began to gnaw at the empty pit of your stomach. The diner was in view. Next, it was down the street. And finally, right in front of you.

Warm rays of light pooled across the sidewalk from large windows, dancing and shifting as patrons moved. You felt like a ghost; watching, peering into friendly company from the safety of an invisible barrier. After an eternity and a half, your feet dragged you inside the last place you laughed and felt excitement swim under your skin.

The trio wasn't hard to find in such a small room. Animated chatter and chuckles flowed so easily from their table, tinted with colorful language and the occasional mocking tone. Unwilling to blatantly interrupt, you found yourself quickly squeezing into the empty seat beside Armin, who nearly jumped out of his skin when your elbow bumped his.

Eren met your widened gaze first, flashing a bright smile. The man on his side promptly wiped the crumbs from his mouth and nudged his head in your direction.

"Oh hey, she's real!"

"I told you! You owe me twenty bucks." Eren smacked the table in excitement, making you jolt just the slightest bit.

"Nah nah nah, listen. Blink twice if you're a paid actor."

Thoroughly entertained, you watched the brunettes squint at you from across the table, waiting eagerly for an answer. Armin huffed instead, tossing a straw wrapper that bounced off of the taller boy's forehead. "That's Jean. Don't listen to him, he's on a bit of a sugar rush."

You snorted, "well, I'm not an actor, but I was bribed with free pie."

Jean clicked his tongue a few times and leaned back in the booth. "Very sneaky Arlert. Are you gonna pay for me too, since you just lost me twenty bucks?"

"Why don't you ask Eren? I hear he just won twenty bucks." Armin replied with a grin, turning to you once the brunettes began bickering amongst themselves. "You hungry, [Y/N]? The bribe extends past a slice of pie, y'know."

Something about the air circling around your four heads felt familiar. Warm. You found yourself smiling on your own, eyebrow popping upward.

"So, like, the whole pie?"

Armin chuckled.

"How daring and crazy of you," he mimicked quietly.

"What can I say? Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery."

#armin x reader #aot x reader #armin arlert #attack on titan #reader insert #something gained

[queennsansa]

Hi *wink wink, nudge nudge* it’s that time of the year — please reveal your truth: Spotify wrapped, number 22 - 69 - 77 👀

Thank you for the ask! Somewhat shockingly considering the state of my top 100 you managed to evade Taylor Swift and Harry Styles.

22. Marionette - Keaton Henson & Julien Baker 69. Die Fun - Kacey Musgraves 77. The Horror and the Wild - The Amazing Devil

Below the cut some characters these songs remind me of, because of course all of them are on multiple fandom playlists of mine.

22. Marionette - Keaton Henson & Julien Baker

I swear you picked one of the most depressing songs on this list lol.

Both the mood and lyrics of this song remind me of Robin Hobb's Realm of the Elderlings. In all fairness, I can link most songs to those books, but I swear it holds up for this one. Cue this essay which will probably be incomprehensible cause I'm limiting my spoilers?? Sorry.

I like to think of this song as a nod to the Last Dance of Chances poem from Fool's Fate (rendered beautifully by Ilum Sîn here as a song--mind for indirect spoilers, if that'll bother you) and the dancing motif as it applies to Fitz and the Fool. I think the Last Dance of Chances is one of Robin Hobb's most beautiful offerings and also worst offences to my heart, so there's that. Anyway, the song:

I am the master of ignoring the past I have the answer to the question that you never asked Teach me the seasons, and let every year be the test But ask me to dance, love, I will fold like a marionette I'm lost on you

Has there ever been a better description of FitzChivalry Farseer than "master of ignoring the past"? Always writing his own history in a way so that he can live with it, catalogue it, engaging yet evading. The lack of communication, a love enduring, but the scene breaks down once a question is asked. I love the imagery of a marionette, so fitting for Fitz who often feels like a puppet in the hands of Fate, the Farseers and also, ultimately, the Fool. And then the layering of Keaton and Julien's voices on "I'm lost on you"... the quietest defeat.

Teach me to write, love, and I'll write you a song for the dead

Truly, what is every Fitz book but a love song for the dead, literal or figurative? What is the Last Dance of Chances but an elegy, an eternal goodbye? That's exactly what this song sounds like.

Okay I'm done having feelings, let's carry on.

69. Die Fun - Kacey Musgraves

Getting more upbeat here, thank god.

I will forever be missing the chaotic energy of the Legends of Tomorrow gang. This song is full of hope and yet it has a wistful tone. Perfect for a show then that has just ended, and that when it was on air, always had team members leaving.

Do we really have to grow up? If we never do then so what So what if I don't wanna, what if I'm just gonna Stay drunk on all the years that I just wish would slow up?

In a show about timetravel, there never seemed to be enough time. It was about being silly, about making the most of love, friendship, life. It was about traveling the universe and the destination not mattering nearly as much as the journey and the people you undertake it with. It was, very often, about saying goodbye. No one is guaranteed a happy ending, and the journey won't last forever for anyone. But no one had more fun on their journey than the Legends did.

Cause we don't know when we're done So let's love hard, live fast, die fun

Nothing encompasses Legends of Tomorrow better than that last line, for me. Love hard, live fast, die fun. They sure did.

((Also I'd like to imagine the Legends would think it hilarious to be picked for number 69.))

77. The Horror and the Wild - The Amazing Devil

As a sidenote, I have like two songs from the Witcher in my top 100 despite only having seen season 1 (a deliberate choice) and then also this one. Joey Batey's voice just hits.

This is a very angry song with a feminist slant, that sounds like it should be in a fantasy show. My first thought was Arya Stark but I haven't thought about Game of Thrones in ages, so different fantasy show it is.

You were raised by wolves and voices Every night I hear them howling deep beneath your bed They said it all comes down to you

A fitting song for a Chosen One, one girl in all the world etc. No, not Buffy, but Faith. A slayer with wolves beneath her bed.

Think of all the horrors that I Promised you I'd bring I promise you, they'll sing of every Time you passed your fingers through my hair and called me child Witness me, old man, I am the Wild

It's a song about taking revenge on the world, and everyone in it who hurt you, especially the ones who pretended to be nice. These lines remind me both of Faith's relationship with the Mayor and with the Watchers Council, old men who want to use her power for their own gain. But Faith cannot be tamed for long. And if she's promised you horrors, you better start running.

#ask game #spotify wrapped #and she speaks #existentialmalaises

[solorpgist]

#IFTTT #SoloRPGist

[thornedrose44]

Prompt: "Do it. Take a chance, I'm begging you. You don't want to spend the rest of your life wondering what could have been."

Read on AO3

“What is it?” Kara huffed out, her frustration finally reaching critical mass.

“What’s what?” Alex replied, playing dumb by pretending to study the DEO’s monitors far too intently considering Kara had literally just dispatched the rogue villain of the week.

Kara crossed her arms, hip cocked forward slightly as she leant against the central console, blue eyes observing her sister's profile closely.

“Whatever you’re not telling me because you think it will upset me.” The superhero clarified bluntly, her social hesitation and uncertainty having dampened over the last few years.

She had learnt the hard way how important it was to never shy away from the truth and avoid speaking around the heart of the matter. It was a lesson she had absorbed completely, and it was one she refused to forget - needing to prove she had evolved, had bettered herself from the version that had required teaching in the first place.

“I’m not…” Alex refuted, shrugging dismissively but keeping her gaze trained forward, “There’s no-“

“Look, I’m asking you out of courtesy,” Kara cut in, “but you and I both know that I could just as easily ask Nia, and she would fold almost instantly.”

Alex grumbled irritably under her breath - Nia still had yet to build an effective resistance to Kara’s puppy dog eyes and this particular weakness had caused no small amount of trouble for Alex over the last five years.

“It is Lena related, right?” Kara checked, though it was completely unnecessary.

For Alex to actively try and keep a secret from her, it couldn’t be about anything else. And it had been more or less confirmed by her sister's reaction to her threatening to go to Nia.

“Just because I’m keeping a secret, doesn’t automatically mean it’s to do with Lena.” Alex tried, though the conviction behind her statement was weaker than wet tissue paper.

The redhead side-eyed her and Kara merely had to arch an unimpressed eyebrow in return for the DEO director to deflate.

“Okay maybe it’s a little to do with Lena.” Alex admitted with a wince, rubbing the back of her neck in defeat.

Kara threw her hands up in exasperation. “It’s been over five years, okay? I’m fine!”

Her bellowed declaration of stability, made the nearby DEO agents look over with a mix of curiosity and concern. Kara grimaced at the reaction and as such didn’t resist when Alex grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the central room and into her private office.

Alex turned to face her fully, lips pressed tight together and hands firm on her own hips (it had always annoyed Kara that Alex managed to make her signature superhero pose far more intimidating than her own attempts).

“Yelling I’m fine, definitely helps your case.” Alex retorted, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Kara had the good grace to look suitably embarrassed for a moment before launching into the same variation of the speech she gave every time there was a morsel of Lena news to be had. “I screwed up, okay? Big time screwed up - ‘regret it for the rest of my life’ screwed up!” Kara declared prompting a beleaguered sigh from her sister who knew the blatant lie that was coming next. “But I’ve made my peace with it. I won’t spiral into another depressive episode when I hear how happy she is.”

Alex shook her head, not even remotely convinced - not that Kara could blame her, the last time Alex had been pestered into telling her a Lena update, Kara had spent a weekend on a drinking binge that had successfully proven that there were limits even for a kryptonian.

“I don’t think-“ Alex began.

“What is it?” Kara demanded. “Is she getting another medal from the president?”

Alex shook her head, jaw clenching and unclenching. “Kara, you don’t want to know this.”

“Her and Kal save the world again?” Kara barrelled on, her lips curling into a jealous snarl. “The greatest Luthor and Super duo continue to make the world a better place?”

That particular news article had been printed and burned by Kara’s heat vision more times than she dared admit to anyone.

“Kara, please-“ Alex begged, expression crumpling as Kara relentlessly pushed.

“Tell me, I can take it.” Kara proclaimed, voice coming out high pitched and strained. “Is she dating someone again? Another famous actress? That Olympic male gymnast? What-“

“She’s getting married.”

A bomb must have gone off, Kara thought to herself.

A kryptonite bomb.

It was the only thing that could explain the ringing in her ears, and the way everything just… hurt.

A shard of kryptonite must have pierced her chest and cut her heart into jagged pieces. That was the only thing that could explain it.

“What?” She questioned, barely above a whisper. She didn’t quite recognise her own voice - it sounded shattered and unfamiliar. She also didn’t know what she was asking.

Didn’t know what ‘what’ was all about.

What just happened?

What did you say?

What post-apocalyptic reality are we living in now?

“Next week, she’s getting married.” Alex explained, giving Kara answers she no longer wanted. “Sam, Ruby, Kal and Lois are invited.”

She knew it should sting. Not being invited even though they hadn’t spoken in nearly five years. That she should feel something about the fact that Lena had omitted Alex, Brainy, Nia and J’onn as well - it further reinforced how Lena believed them to be Kara’s friends and never hers (which was one of the things Kara regretted most - how her poor treatment of Lena had infected and destroyed everyone else’s friendship with the youngest Luthor).

“To who?” Kara asked, tone cold, hollow… empty.

“Kara,” Alex murmured softly, reaching out to comfort her sister, “this clearly isn’t good for you.”

Kara jerked backwards so fast that the papers on Alex’s desk shot into the air, fluttering down around the sisters like snow.

“Just tell me!” Kara ordered, hands turned into white knuckle fists at her sides that would be capable of tearing through the strongest of metals. Her eyes heated but she managed to stave the fire in them as she glowered at her sister.

Alex slumped back, leaning heavily against her desk, running a frantic hand through her short hair. “Does it matter?” Alex muttered defeatedly, brown eyes filled with pity and sympathy as she stared up into Kara’s eyes.

“Of course it fucking matters,” Kara snapped in outrage before she had a chance to stop and think , “because it’s not me!”

The admission hung heavy and rotting between them. It wasn’t a revelation to either of them, though the fact that the intensity of Kara’s feelings hadn’t dampened despite the separation of half a decade was.

“Kara…” Alex breathed, standing back up and moving towards the blonde with the obvious intent of hugging her.

“I should get back to CatCo.” Kara mumbled, cheeks a fiery red with shame. She stepped hurriedly away from her sister and was already halfway out the door before she halted, turning back to call out a sad yet sincere. “Thanks for telling me.”

Xxx

“I genuinely don’t get why you love these films so much.” Lena remarked, hands cupping her just made cup of cocoa, nose adorably scrunched up as she snuggled back down on the sofa beside Kara, who didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around her best friend’s shoulders.

“They’re sweet and romantic.” Kara replied with a happy sigh, turning to nuzzle into the side of Lena’s head for a fleeting moment as the film’s lead started her joyful march down the aisle. “It makes me hopeful.”

“Hopeful?” Lena repeated curiously, leaning away slightly so she could meet Kara’s blue eyes.

Kara shrugged, ducking her head bashfully, “It’s stupid.”

“Hey,” Lena murmured gently, freeing a hand from her mug so that she could interlace her warmed fingers with Kara’s, “you could never be stupid, especially not about something like this.” Her best friend asserted, before asking seriously, “You want the classic big white wedding?”

“Uh…” Kara blushed, cheeks pinking as her mind struggled to kick into gear.

She didn’t know how to tell Lena that the reason she loved weddings more than any other event is because they so closely resembled Kryptonian Bonding ceremonies. That the exchanging of rings, polished everlasting metal, reminded her of wonderfully crafted bracelets clasped on wrists. That it was an occasion for family to join together across generations, for the rare flashes of art and music on Krypton to take centre stage over cold science.

She didn’t know how to tell Lena that after being alone, abandoned and lost - ripped away from her home in the cruelest of ways - that the idea of belonging to someone else, of having a home in someone else regardless of time or location was what Kara wanted more than anything else.

She didn’t know how to tell Lena because it would require admitting the truth of who she really was, it would require taking accountability for years of lies.

She didn’t know how to tell Lena without losing her forever.

“Yeah.” Kara coughed awkwardly, “I want the whole thing. Beautiful dress, surrounded by family… the love of my life at the end of the aisle. Everything.” She shot Lena a side-long glance, “I’m guessing you don’t?”

“Never really been my thing,” Lena admitted readily and Kara’s heart twisted at how Lena didn’t hesitate to bare herself, how she gave all of herself when it could be argued that Kara - at best - only gave half, “probably because I can’t imagine I have enough people in my life to invite and feel ‘surrounded’.” Lena pursed her lips thoughtfully, “I also don’t get the need for the spectacle. Just the idea that there’s someone out there that would want to…” Kara watched her best friend deflate, expression wistful and pained, “be with me, love me like that… that’s more than enough.”

Kara’s eyes stung with barely suppressed tears at how little Lena thought of herself. Whoever had the privilege of marrying her best friend would be the single luckiest and most fortunate person in the universe and Kara wished Lena knew that, wished she believed it. But when she opened her mouth to say it, to proclaim it, her breath faltered and her courage abandoned her… like it always did with the youngest Luthor.

“So no white dress?” Kara muttered instead, voice meek and lacking the lightheartedness that should have carried the question.

It didn’t matter, though, Lena let out a quick exhale that resembled something on the edge of laughter. Kara’s escalating heart rate settled at that, however, it did little to alleviate the pang of regret that was steadily accompanying all her interactions with the CEO.

“Well, I guess I could be convinced by someone special.” Lena teased, shooting Kara an overtly salacious wink that wouldn’t - on the surface - be considered genuine.

“Anyone that marries you will have to be special.” Kara replied, the statement tumbling out instantly.

It wasn’t the heartfelt confession that Kara wished it to be and it wasn’t quite light enough to be dismissed as a friendly reassurance. Instead, it was yet another thing that fell into the ethereal greyness that lied between them, something to tuck away and think back on late at night when they tried to work out if the other meant it the way they wished they did.

“Yeah?” Lena whispered, piercing green eyes studying Kara’s face closely.

Kara swallowed thickly, “Yeah.”

Xxx

Lena found out less than six weeks after that movie night. They defeated Lex and Kara had been on the edge of breathing easy, of being able to simply relax back into her life when it all came crashing down.

They had been at Games Night and Kara had been antsy, waiting for her best friend to arrive. The thought of pulling Lena into a hug had been what she had been looking forward to most all day.

Kara was at peace, laughing and drinking with her friends - her family - when Lena had arrived. Kara had beamed up at her immediately and for a second Lena’s entrancing green eyes lit up in return before turning dark and distant.

Kara’s smile faltered, crinkle appearing between her brows when-

The wine bottle smashed into the wall behind Kara’s head.

Deathly silence fell over the area.

Kara looked into hollow, emptied out versions of her favourite green. She would have preferred anger, fury, rage… the defeated nothingness staring back at the Kryptonian was far worse.

Lena turned and left, grinding Kara’s heart to dust and taking the sand particles left with her.

She knew.

She knew because Lex had told her.

She knew because she had gone to stop her brother, intent on saving the world like always only to find out that those she was saving the world for didn’t view her as their equal. That the people she treated as family had kept her on the outskirts. That her best friend had lied, had manipulated, had-

xxx

It was Lois that found out everything from Lena.

When the fallout had happened, as Kara and the Superfriends realised what they had lost, the blonde hero sent notice to her cousin that his identity was probably known as well (mostly because she remembered how hurt she had been when Kal shared her secret without her consent). Kal and Lois had arrived almost immediately, frantic and terrified (especially with baby Jon to consider) at the concept of a Luthor knowing their identity.

Kara, joined by all the Superfriends, quickly put their minds to rest, sharing Lena’s actions from before, her dependability, kindness and inherent goodness. Kal and Lois were convinced their secret was safe but they were horrified to hear how Lena had been isolated and kept at arms length after her considerable good deeds. Alex and the others had squirmed uncomfortably and tried to weakly talk around their hesitancy.

Kal and Lois had simply looked at Kara for an explanation but she had none. Yet again the words would not come.

It was Lois, therefore, that had sought out the youngest Luthor and through her incredible tenacity was able to gain access where everyone else was rebuffed and harshly rejected.

It was Lois that comforted Lena, gave her support and sympathy.

It was Lois that relayed Lena’s demand that they give her space.

It was Lois that suggested Lena return to Metropolis - presenting it as a way to celebrate how L-Corp, after Lena’s repeated sacrifices and heroism, was fully rehabilitated and ready to reclaim its once home.

It was Lois that encouraged Lena and Kal to work together becoming an unstoppable force that Kara and Lena had always danced on the precipice of.

A Luthor and a Super. Saving the world.

xxx

Kara did as asked. Gave Lena space. Or at least the semblance of space.

She checked in constantly, hovered nearby throughout the days and nights leading upto L-Corp’s departure and Lena along with it. She followed Lena’s jet to Metropolis, a sentinel ensuring safe passage.

She kept her distance for three months. Three months of stony silence before she broke.

Snapped, more like.

Landing on Lena’s new balcony in Metropolis that had been specially built for Superman this time - not for her, though Kara, at the time, had hoped that she had been considered consciously or unconsciously as well.

Kara couldn’t remember the exact words.

She remembered crying from beginning to end.

Remembered ‘I loved you’ - past tense.

Remembered finally breaking through Lena’s cold, hardened shell to the raw, bleeding wound hidden underneath and regretting it almost immediately.

Remembered how seeing Lena’s agony was worse than kryptonite, worse than watching Krypton burn…

Remembered Lena saying she needed time to heal, for Kara to stop hovering nearby - because she knew, she sensed Kara’s presence even without seeing her once - and to give her time to stop thinking of Kara and feeling only pain when she did so.

Remembered promising to do just that.

Remembered a timer starting to count in her head - the seconds that she would be condemned to purgatory.

Remembered the hope that just refused to go out - the hope that whispered give it time, give it time, give it time with every beat of her heart.

Remembered thinking that given enough time Lena would reach out and they would get the chance that Kara had almost destroyed for them.

Remembered flying zig-zagged and dangerous to Alex where her endless stream of tears returned to full flow as she sobbed into her sister’s shoulder using words and phrases like ‘heartbroken’ and ‘I love her’ and ‘I can’t survive this pain’ and ‘what do I do?’ and ‘I can’t breathe’.

Remembered a hollowed out shell of Kara Danvers moving through the motions for a year, for two, three, four… five...

Remembered taking up drinking to excess whenever she saw Lena’s life flourish and grow - not because she didn’t want Lena to be happy, that was what Kara wanted and wished for more than anything - because she wasn’t there with her for those life-changing events.

Remembered Alex and Kelly’s worries growing with each occurrence, intervening more and more to such a degree that they encouraged Kara to consider AA meetings - she did eventually, and found destroying entire junkyards to be a healthier coping mechanism, external destruction rather than internal.

Remembered Brainy at the behest of Alex, setting up Kara’s phone and computer to prevent searching for any keywords affiliated to Lena and to alert Alex if Kara ever managed to stumble upon a news article.

Remembered listening to Kal and Lois skipping large parts of stories where it was clear that Lena was involved - it was nice in some way to know Lena was getting the credit she deserved, but it hurt when Kal’s stories started to involve gaps at Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year (events that made Kara’s loneliness even more acute and her longing intensify).

Remembered her life without Lena.

Remembered regret and guilt and loss.

Remembered-

“She’s getting married.”

xxx

Kara shouldn’t have been there. Shouldn’t be anywhere in the vaguest vicinity of where she currently was.

The bride was dressed in a simple silky white shift, sipping intermittently from her champagne glass as she stared contemplatively up at the designer white dress hanging off the door in front of her. Raven locks were pinned up, so tight and intricate that it made Kara wince sympathetically at how it must tug and pinch at the bride’s scalp - she’d always preferred it down, loose and curling… soft and inviting. The bride’s make-up was artistic with a dramatic edge that would captivate but made her look… not like herself in Kara’s opinion.

Or maybe after five years it made Lena look more like herself - the version of herself she had become once free of Kara and all the pain she brought into her life.

She was hovering outside the dressing room window, trying to work out how far she was willing to take this. If it would be better to leave without saying anything, to try and leave some part of Lena’s life unspoiled.

It was the fear that she had always given into when she was best friends with Lena that made her decision for her. Like speaking her truth and learning to ask for what she wanted - Kara had also promised herself that she would never allow that bone deep fear to stop her ever again.

The window was open and it was as good an invite as Kara was ever going to get.

“Lena?”

The beautiful bride-to-be jerked in her place, champagne glass nearly tumbling to the floor but saved at the last second.

She didn’t turn around for a beat… then two…

Kara was just about to escape back through the window when Lena exhaled slowly and pivoted round to meet her.

“Kara?” Lena breathed out, green eyes closed off and wary.

The kryptonian studied the love of her life for a moment, taking in every little detail - soaking it all up as if accepting that this would be the last time she might ever get to see it again. That the timer that had counted past five years would stop after this moment, the hope powering it gone forever.

“Don’t marry them, please.” Kara requested, no flowery language, no build up. Just the honest truth.

“What?” Lena’s jaw dropped and the champagne glass didn’t survive the second shock, crashing to the ground - released by trembling fingers.

“Don’t marry them.” Kara repeated, uncaring of how the carpet below them soaked up the amber liquid.

Lena’s expression flitted through an array of emotions before settling on indignant rage, “And why the hell not?!”

Kara didn’t flinch, didn’t retreat, instead she stood taller, the crest of her super suit catching the early afternoon light. “Because it should have been me. It still should be me.”

Lena scoffed in disbelief, “You can’t be serious. Now? You’re doing this now?”

Kara pursed her lips, fighting back the regret that always came with the reminders of countless missed opportunities. “Yes.”

The straightforwardness of Kara’s answers seemed to be throwing Lena, leaving her wrong-footed, clearly expecting the blonde to talk around and hint and imply like she used to.

But Kara had learnt. (The lesson had been too painful not to.)

“You had years, Kara!” Lena argued, “Years where I…. I threw myself at you. Practically begged you to love me… to trust me…”

“I know.” Kara replied sadly, wanting desperately to reach out when Lena’s pretty green eyes began to glisten with unshed tears. “I know. But I’m here now.”

“I don’t want you to be.” Lena muttered, arms crossed over her chest and head ducked downwards to hide her expression.

“I know that too.” Kara assured, fingers twitching with the desire to make contact, to comfort and coax - even after all these years her body remembered, the pathways of hardwired instinct related to her best friend were still there, still active even if temporarily closed for service.

“Then why are you here?” Lena murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

“Because I’m in love with you.”

Lena’s head snapped up at that, green eyes like saucers.

Kara’s single biggest regret was that she had never said those words to Lena before, had alluded and pointed at them during their final interaction but had never outright said them. And Lena had deserved to hear them then and deserved to hear them now to forever vanquish the doubts that had always been with her.

“Because I’m in love with you and we didn’t get our chance.” Kara affirmed, taking a half step closer to the bride, her red heeled boots and Lena’s bare feet meaning the younger woman had to tip her head ever so slightly back to maintain eye contact. “We didn’t get our chance because of me. Because I was afraid, I was so afraid of losing you. Of doing even the slightest thing that could mean you weren’t in my life. And in the end every action I took out of fear of losing you ensured just that. I’ve spent five years without you, Lena, and I can’t bear a single day more.”

“Kara,” Lena whispered, “I’m getting married.”

“I know.” Kara smiled sadly before adding, “Don’t.”

“What are you suggesting? Seriously?” Lena sighed, shaking her head mournfully and Kara knew she was losing her then.

“I’m suggesting that we have our chance now before it's gone forever.”

Gathering the small amount of courage Kara had left, she tentatively let her hands nudge forwards, brushing against Lena’s cool, pale fingers. That small contact was everything. Made it easier to breathe, made the colours of the world more vibrant, made everything just more.

“I let fear hold me back from the person that made me happiest in the entire universe and I won’t let it hold me back again.”

“Kara…” Lena whimpered, glancing back over her shoulder at the closed door that her wedding dress was displayed on, though she didn’t pull her hand away from Kara’s touch, didn’t flinch or retreat.

“Do it.” Kara pleaded, stepping across that final slither of distance between them, her forehead leaning forward to rest gently against the side of Lena’s, “Take a chance, I’m begging you. You don’t want to spend the rest of your life wondering what could have been.”

Lena inhaled shakily, head returning to forward facing - foreheads pressed against one another, breathing in the same air - and then… and then…

Lena’s hands slipped fully into Kara’s, fingers intertwining together.

#supercorp #supercorpfic #i feel no remorse for this #tempted to do a part two

[from-the-clouds]

Kiss Me More (Part IIII) - Zemo/Reader

Masterlist | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | 

Summary: Reader ponders the decision they made after meeting Zemo in Riga. Series now complete!

Words: 5.2k

Warnings: Kissing, marijuana & alcohol abuse, heavy angst & depression, small reference to suicide, implied casual sex, yearning

A/N (also check out A/N at end when finished reading): This is it, everyone! I was going to end this completely differently originally, but after some thinking --  and some light peer pressure from ya’ll, I did something a little different. I did fight with this part the most out of all of them, so I hope it’s still good. Please enjoy. And thank you for all the love on this series, it’s been so fun to write! Also I was listening to this song while writing this.

---

The incessant buzz of her alarm clock jolted her out of her dreamless sleep. Fumbling in the dark, she slapped the top of it, hitting the snooze button and looking at the interface with bleary eyes. 

4:00 A.M. It stared, indifferent, back at her tired face. 

She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut and lamenting, bargaining, half expecting the clock to turn back time when she opened her eyes again. Unfortunately, it did not. With a huff, she threw back the covers and stretched, disturbing the orange cat that slept in the empty spot next to her where her husband used to lay. 

Snorting, the cat lifted its head to look at her as she climbed out of bed before curling back up in a ball where her feet had been. 

“Don’t mind me, just getting ready for work so I can feed us,” she said, grumpily, then in a moment of repentance, affectionately scratching her behind the ears. 

She had always been a night owl, so she didn’t think it would be possible to ever get used to waking this early. No human was meant to function at this time. It was the one part of the job she hated most. The rest of it was manageable, though it was still work. 

Setting about her morning routine, she showered, made coffee, and donned her uniform. Eating a day-old bagel and nursing her coffee on her tiny balcony, she looked out over the darkened horizon. It was far too early to even enjoy a sunrise. 

There was a saying, time heals all wounds. After her husband died, she’d heard it a lot. It was a saying she had come to find true. But it’d been well over a year since she’d left Helmut, alone in that swanky hotel room, and it still hurt like it was yesterday. 

“I understand,” he’d murmured, and she felt the ghost of his kiss on her forehead, arms around her waist, even now. She shivered, not from the chill of the morning air.

She’d left her old life behind, all of it. Sam and Bucky, too, about a month after their time in Riga. She couldn’t look them in the eyes after what she’d done.

But, she was proud of what they’d accomplished. They’d defeated the Flag Smashers. Bucky seemed happier, more at peace. Sam had accepted his role as the new Captain America. John Walker seemed to have faded into irrelevancy. All the loose ends had been tied up in a pretty little bow.

Except for hers.

Which is why she moved, sold all the stuff in her tiny NYC apartment, and packed her car full with what she couldn’t bear to part with, some photos and momentos from a different lifetime. Her car didn’t stop until she hit the Atlantic Ocean, on an island just south of Charleston. All but undiscovered by tourists, the residents in the sleepy beach town kept to themselves, and she could go about her life in peace, undisturbed. 

She couldn’t just run away from her problems, that was why she’d left Zemo. It seemed counterintuitive, but in her mind, it made sense. The problems would catch up to her, like they always had. The dissatisfaction she had with her life, with herself, was always going to return. And she knew she had to be alone to deal to face it head on. Like a wounded animal, crawling into the woods, there were only two ways things could end here; either she’d heal and come out stronger, or eventually she’d die. And so far, the healing part wasn’t going great. 

Each day was a matter of convincing herself that she’d made the right choice. Especially now, as her eyes burned, fighting to stay open against the inviting embrace of sleep. 

Despite it being dark outside, the bakery was bustling already when she walked in the service entrance. It smelled amazing, as always. Sweet and warm, a cacophony of aromas, baking bread, fresh coffee, sugar.

She set about the usual preparations to open up, packaging orders for the regulars, sweeping the floor, wiping down countertops. Once the place was open, she didn’t have to work the register, as she prepared batches of dough in the back for proofing, to be baked the next day. 

Before, she’d been a terrible cook, but she’d grown comfortable in the kitchen after learning to bake. There was something satisfying about working with her hands, at this point she’d memorized all the recipes and the work became second nature to her. Now, she always had fresh bread and pastries in her kitchen, although they were the slightly disformed, ones the shop owners deemed too ugly for the glass display cases. Daylight was cherished, even if she barely saw it inside the shop. Because while she was awake, busy with work, her thoughts remained pleasant.

At night it was the hardest. Things got quiet, lonely. When she got home, she poured herself a drink. Cheap whiskey, the kind that came in a plastic bottle and burned on it’s way down. She had never been much of a drinker before, she was now. Her thoughts were more manageable after a drink. Especially because she was usually thinking of Helmut. 

It was often that she wondered what he may be doing, and those thoughts usually ended with the image of him lying in the sun, poolside, on some island in the Pacific Ocean, drinking expensive champagne with a supermodel. It wasn’t a particularly comforting thought to her, and yet she was plagued by some variation of it every night. 

Sometimes, she’d humor herself, and imagine what they might be doing had she decided to stay with him. Unfortunately, thinking of that was more upsetting. She wanted it, selfishly, though she wasn’t willing to admit it.

When she was younger, it had been so easy to block out the pain, to just press forward, no matter what. Much to her dismay, it didn’t get easier as she got older. Years of watching those she loved in pain, years of being in pain had taken a toll on her resilience. She wasn’t the strong woman she once was, she was weak.

That night, one drink had turned into two, into three. Wallowing in her own self-pity had become second-nature, she felt like Hamlet, lamenting her circumstances, a constant turmoil monologuing in her brain. But this night felt particularly worse, for some reason. 

For the record, she had been doing better. But she was all-too-familiar with how grief worked, pulling her back down the dark side of the mountain, where she was forced to fight her demons over and over again. At some point, they were going to win.

It was a funny thing. Despite the loss of her husband, who she had loved dearly, his death had been easier to accept. Final. She couldn’t bring him back. Helmut on the other hand, was still out there, an open wound that could never fully heal.

Before she knew it, she was four drinks in, at her bedside table, fumbling through the bottom drawer, until she found what she was looking for.

Back on her couch, she stared at the card in her hand, the hastily written phone number on it, an international line. Helmut had given it to her, the day she left, stuck it in her purse while she wasn’t looking. She didn’t discover it until she had returned home.

It had been months since she last did this, pulled the card out of its hidden place in her drawer, placed it on the coffee table in front of her next to her phone, and considered dialing it. It had been a frequent occurrence when she first moved here, when she couldn’t find a job and spent most of her mornings either hungover, or stumbling home from rendezvous with men whose names she wouldn’t remember, and she wouldn’t care to, because there was only one man she really wanted. She could only hope he’d be as close as one call away. But she never called. 

I mean really, he’d probably moved on by this point. If she was going to call, she should have done it months ago, when there was more of a chance that he’d give a fuck. 

She considered this a setback. But she’d made her way halfway through the cheap bottle of whiskey, it was the drunkest she’d been in ages and she was curious. She didn’t know whose number it was, who’d be on the other end of the line, and never knew why Helmut would want her to have it to begin with.  

At this point, she wasn’t capable of good decision making. In general, it hadn’t always been her strong suit. So why did doing the right thing matter now? It didn’t, she decided. 

Taking a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle, she ensured she wouldn’t remember what happened next, at least not clearly. 

The phone rang twice before someone picked up. “Hello?” she didn’t recognize the sound of the man on the other end of the line immediately, so she didn’t answer. All she had wanted to do was maybe hear Helmut’s voice, he didn’t even need to know it was her that was calling. 

“Hello?” the man repeated, and she realized it wasn’t completely unfamiliar. The grandfatherly, comforting tone wasn’t her former lover, but someone close to him. And she supposed that wasn’t terrible.

“Is this Oeznik?” she asked. 

“It is,” he said after some hesitation. “May I ask who’s speaking?”

Truthfully, she was shocked she’d allowed herself to go this far. This was a bad idea. If she stopped now she could get off without doing any real damage. But just as she was about to hang up, she heard her name, muffled, on the other end of the line. 

“H-How do you know it’s me?” She raised the phone back to her ear. 

“I thought you sounded familiar,” Oeznik chuckled, low and soft. “Helmut told me you might call.”

“He did?” she squeaked. “Yes, although it was awhile ago. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I uh….I….well….” she managed. “I guess I just….I guess I wanted to see how he was doing.”  Her words flowed together like the liquor she was drinking, she knew she sounded drunk.

“Good, since we last spoke,” he said. “I don’t hear from him much these days...maybe every couple months. As you might imagine, he’s trying to keep a low profile for the time being.”

She nodded. Perhaps Zemo was as lonely as she was, hidden away in some cabin in the middle of nowhere. Though she had to imagine it looked much nicer than her current place, and maybe he had better company than a portly orange cat that begrudgingly liked him. “I understand.”

“How have you been?” he asked.

It sounded stupid, but she realized it was the first time someone had asked her that. Sincerely. Checked up on her. Even if she was the one who had dialed the number in the first place.

“I’m good,” her voice cracked. “Just keeping busy.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he said. “Helmut always had such nice things to say about you.”

“Really?” she couldn’t stop herself. 

“Of course, would you like me to let him know you called?” 

“No, no...I wouldn’t want to bother him,” she choked on her words, something catching in her throat.

“Are you sure you’re alright, dear?”

“I’m okay, I just….” she felt tears prick at the back of her eyes, lowering her voice, since she didn’t think her normal register would come out as anything other than a whine. “I think I made a horrible mistake.”

“What’s the matter? What did you do?”

She shook her head, shaking the tears loose and now they were lining her lashes, threatening to spill over. However, she managed to make the next words she spoke come out clearly. “Nothing, I just...it’s really stupid, I really shouldn’t have called.”

He sighed on the other end of the line, and she felt like, despite her attempt at staying calm, he could still see that she wasn’t somehow. “It seemed Helmut was awfully sweet on you,” Oeznik’s words next came hesitantly, calculated. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but he told me if you ever called, to help you with whatever you might need, no matter the ask.”

Oh God, what had she done? A sob left her, one she couldn’t control, and she clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle any more. Her tears were flowing freely now, tracking down her cheeks and along her chin. She wiped at them clumsily, clearing her throat. 

“That’s very kind of him, but you can’t help me. I’m so sorry to bother you, please just forget I even called,” she forced a smile on her face so that hopefully he could hear it. “Goodbye.”

She hung up, horrified, and within seconds had deleted the call log from her phone. She’d been thoughtful enough not to memorize the number, and the lighter she used whenever she smoked sat in front of her. Without a second though, she burned the card, watching the paper blacken and disintegrate, until it was all but a pile of soot on her Wal-Mart coffee table. It was a fair punishment, and ensured she’d never get the chance to embarrass herself like that again. 

And then she cried, sobbed into a pillow next to her, until her tears ran dry and she wore herself out, falling asleep on the couch alone. When she’d wake the next morning, the only evidence of her actions would be a throbbing headache and a dead phone. 

She wouldn’t remember the call.

----

Life went on, as it always did. It had been about a month, and since that night she grew more indifferent, remembered how to ignore heartbreak. For now, she was stuck in her purgatory, waking up before the sun and falling asleep before it set, smoking joints, drinking cheap liquor, and going on the occasional date with people who she didn’t really like, tourists who would leave after a week and wanted temporary company. 

Despite everything, she partly believed things were getting better. Maybe they weren’t, but the possibility that someday they would seemed feasible. And that was enough, for now. 

On her days off, she’d walk to the beach and lay on a blanket, reading a book until the sun dipped below the horizon and lit up the sky in hues of pinks and purples. She found a record player at an antique store and began collecting vinyls, listening to obscure artists whose albums she found in the $1 bin. It wasn’t so bad. Life wasn’t so bad. 

She took a shower after work. Tomorrow was her off day, and she wasn’t sure what she had planned besides maybe watching a movie and getting stoned. Maybe she’d try going to the beach. The weather was getting warmer, and she could even go swimming if the water wasn’t too cold. 

Exhausted from her day of work, she laid down in her bed, still in her robe, her hair wrapped in a towel around her head. The sun was setting outside, the windchimes she’d hung outside slowly clanging together, birds singing in the warm spring air. Her cat hopped on the bed, offered an affectionate trill and curled up at her side, purring, in a rare display of affection. A cool breeze drifted through the open window. And for the first time in over a year, she felt content. Closing her eyes, she savored the moment, committed it to memory, so she could recall it the next time she was drunk-crying in front of her TV. 

She fell asleep slowly, so slowly that when she woke, startled by something in her kitchen clattering to the floor, it felt like she hadn’t even been sleeping at all. The clock next to her red 11:31 p.m. and it was pitch dark outside, the cool breeze from before had grown stronger and her bedroom curtains were billowing, wind whistling loudly through the apartment. Her cat had left her side, and she frowned, shivering in the sudden cold.

Pulling the towel off her head, she made her way over to the window with the intention to close it, sleepily, lazily, until she heard something else. A creak in the floorboard. A heavy footstep in her kitchen. That wasn’t just her cat. 

Some kind of muscle memory was ignited then, an ancient instinct that called to her from a different lifetime. Darting across the room, the gun she kept was in her hand, stealthily pulled from its hiding spot beneath her mattress. Truth be told, she never thought she would’ve needed it. Anyone looking for her would be smart enough to kill her in her sleep, not be so foolish as to wake her first with their heavy footsteps. 

A dark silhouette stalked through her kitchen, moving slowly. It was a man, she assumed, based on his broader figure, and lack of coordination. In her experience, women were often stealthier without trying. He took another step, the floor creaking below him, shuffling on bargain linoleum. 

Staying low, she crept forward, ducking stealthily behind furniture, avoiding the spots on the floor she knew made noise. It didn’t appear the intruder had a weapon, in fact, it seemed he was bumbling about, searching for something. A burglar, and a bad one at that. An island full of vacation homes owned by rich doctors and they thought they’d find valuables in her shitty apartment?

It wasn’t until she was standing directly behind him, gun aimed at his head, that she finally spoke up. 

“I believe you’ve come to the wrong place,” she said flatly. “Whatever you’re looking for, it’d be in your best interest to leave empty-handed.”

Her eyes were still adjusting to the dark, but the intruder froze, arms slowly raising in defeat, empty-handed, as he turned around to face her. In the dingy room, she couldn’t make out any of his features, could only see that he was clad in all black.

“Unfortunately, liebling, that wasn’t my intention.” 

She would’ve recognized that voice anywhere, though the endearment he’d used was enough to clue her in. Hitting the lightswitch with her free hand, she was face to face with the man she’d spent the past year trying to purge from her memory, Helmut Zemo. 

Her gut twisted, her mind raced, but the only thing currently bubbling up, over the surface of every other emotion was the pure, seething rage left behind in the wake of fearing for her life.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” she stepped towards him, gun still raised, fuming. 

“Hey, hey!” he staggered backwards, hands raised, eyes averted. 

“I thought you were a fucking robber!” she hissed. “I thought you were here to kill me!”

“Lower your voice,” he scolded. “You’re going to wake your neighbors.”

Taking a deep breath, she realized she still had her gun trained on him and she lowered it, clicking the safety and discarding the weapon on the countertop. “What the fuck?” she asked. “What the hell is wrong with you? What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I didn’t know you had such a mouth on you,” he smirked, but she wasn’t finished, and she glowered at him. 

“You broke into my apartment!” she growled.

“I had to be sure I was in the right place.”

“Yeah? You couldn’t have knocked first?”

He nodded, eyes trailing down to her hands, which were trembling, she hadn’t even realized. He seemed to understand what he’d done then, and she flexed her fingers, eyes locking with his. “I suppose...you may be right,” he said, surrendering.

She felt the rage subsiding as she took in his appearance. He looked not so different from the last time she’d seen him, except a fair amount of stubble covered his jawline in a short beard. He was still devastatingly handsome. Zemo’s dark eyes, filled with longing, drank her in, tilting his head as his gaze shifted to her lips. It was like she could read his mind, she knew what he wanted, what he was thinking. And her body was going to betray her if he kept it up.

Despite everything, she was still upset. Upset and embarrassed, as the light was doing an unflattering expose of her tiny, cluttered apartment, full of mismatched furniture and water-damaged wallpaper that her landlord refused to replace. It probably gave the prison cells that Helmut had spent years in a run for their money, and was in stark contrast to every other aspect of his life.

“What’s this?” he asked, gesturing to the empty liquor bottles on her countertop, stowed in her trash can. “Have you been drinking?”

“Not tonight,” she quipped, on guard. Had to be. As much as some old instinct told her to throw herself into his arms, press her lips to the underside of his jaw, and let him envelope her in the comfort of his embrace, she knew she couldn’t.

“Hmm,” he brushed past her, frowning, looking disappointed, as he made his way to her living room. 

“How did you find me?” she asked, eyeing him wearily.

“I’m a wanted man, I trace every call that comes into my estate,” he said over his shoulder. 

Helmut was taking inventory of the cramped space, staring at the photos she’d hung in a collage on the wall behind her couch, with a few watercolors painted by her late husband. One in particular, that he was focused on now, was from her wedding. Of all the memories she chose to hang, this one was her fondest, her former partner was all dark curly hair falling into deep blue eyes, and she was the portrait of a blushing bride, wearing a dopey love-drunk smile, gazing at him, ignoring the camera. 

“You looked so beautiful on your wedding day,” he said, turning over his shoulder to look at her. He was so out of place here, standing in her living room, for a moment she thought he might be a hallucination, some physical manifestation of the heartbreak she’d experienced. “Although that doesn’t surprise me.”

She flushed, suddenly self-conscious in her thin black robe and still-damp hair. It occurred to her that she wasn’t looking her best, which made this whole situation that much more disconcerting. However, the compliment disarmed her slightly, and the anger she felt began to dissipate, slowly. She was going to offer him something to drink until her cat, who had been absent through the chaos, suddenly jumped up on the back of the couch and promptly hissed at him in an attempt to defend her territory.

“Pumpkin, be nice,” she said, although it was mostly to placate Helmut. Pumpkin never listened to her. 

Helmut let her sniff his hand, and she was stunned when the cat rubbed her face against it. Of course, Pumpkin would like him of all people. That made sense. Then again, she supposed it made them not so different. He turned away to look at the rest of the room. “I see you haven’t kicked that bad habit you told me about,” he gestured at the ashtray full of roaches on the coffee table. 

“Did you just come to my place to insult me?” she asked, putting her hands on her lips and feigning confidence. She could’ve rolled over and cried and told him how much she missed him, how many nights she’d spent crying over him, and while all of it was true, she felt indignation was the better option for her self-preservation.

“That’s a good question,” Helmut turned to face her now, hands in the pockets of the leather jacket he was wearing. Completely inappropriate for the weather here, but he didn’t seem to notice, or care. “Why do you think I’m here?” he asked.

She shrugged, feigning indifference. “I don’t know, but you shouldn’t be.”

He snorted, his frustration evident, and she saw a glimpse of the man that so many feared, the side that had earned him his dangerous reputation, that had him locked away in a high-security prison for nearly a decade. “I didn’t come all this way for nothing, draga, we’re going to have it out.”

“Fine,” she said, lacing as much venom as she could into her words to prepare herself. “Then get on with it.”

He stared her down, and the expression her wore startled her, something sparkled in his eyes, mischief, relief maybe? It was insulting. Like he didn’t take her seriously. But there was something else there, too, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but it was wiped from his visage before it registered.

The tension in the room dissipated slightly when Zemo sat on the arm of the worn couch she’d bought from a yard sale, and she winced. “I spoke to Oeznik the other day,” he said flatly, snorting, eyes focused on a stain on one of the rugs she owned. “He told me he had the pleasure of speaking to a friend of mine about a month ago.”

Frowning, she tilted her head, her eyes meeting Helmut’s. Something in her brain sparked a memory she’d once dismissed as a dream after a particularly bad night of drinking.

“He was concerned, you see, because this friend didn’t seem to be in the best state of mind,” Helmut rose from the arm of the couch, stalking forward slowly, and she couldn’t move backwards, not even if she wanted to, as he could pin her easily against the front door. His voice grew louder, faster as he went on. “He said she was crying, slurring her words, he told me he thought maybe she might be-” Helmut cut himself off abruptly and closed his eyes, clenching one of his fists, a look of distress on his face as he took in a terse breath. “I won’t finish that thought, but you’re a smart girl, you can imagine what I’m getting at.”

Swallowing hard, the phone call came back to her in pieces, the tears, sobbing on the phone to a man she hardly knew. It was the night she finally admitted to herself she’d made a mistake, even though she’d already known it, deep down when she left him in the hotel room. 

“Please forgive me for breaking in tonight,” Helmut said. “But I couldn’t bear the thought of you not answering the door, I needed to see with my own eyes that you were okay.”

Exhaling through her nose, she looked at the floor. “It’s not like that. I had too much to drink.” she said, keeping her voice as steady as possible. “It was just a bad night.”

“Then tell me, what was the horrible mistake you made?” he asked, stepping closer. He was close to her, now. So close. And his proximity made everything more difficult.

God, if only she could remember exactly what she’d said, the only thing that came to her were the emotions, desperation, sadness, grief. It was all too much, and he was threatening to bring them all back to destroy her again. 

“I shouldn’t have called,” she said, shaking her head. “And I’m sorry. What do you want me to say? What do you want from me?”

“What do I want from you?” He asked, tilting his head, his eyebrows pulling together. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? How hard it was to sit on a plane when all I wanted to do was be here? With you?” His hand rose to cup her cheek, stopping just short of her face when she flinched away from his touch.

“Please stop,” she managed, the burn of tears behind her eyes almost menacing. The last thing she needed was to cry in front of him. “You’re undoing everything.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked. 

“You’re….you’re here,” she murmured weakly, wetness seeping, glossing over her pupils. “I only have so much capacity for pain right now, if you touch me now, you’ll ruin everything.”

No one ever had this kind of hold on her, she’d never bent her rules to appease anyone else, and she’d gone toe to toe with super soldiers. He was just a man, and yet, he terrified her. 

“You really want me to leave?”

She couldn’t answer, but one tear escaped, sliding down her cheekbone, and she sniffled. 

“I’m not the one who did this to you,” his thumb, swiped along her face gently, wiping it away. He’d touched her, just barely, and she was reeling. 

“I know,” she stuttered, gasping. “I know it was me, but I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“You are so stubborn.” His expression softened as he looked upon her, his thumb tracing underneath her jaw, tilting her head upwards to look at him. Malleable, she obliged. “I’ve thought about you everyday since the night we spent together. You’ve plagued me. That can’t be a coincidence. Are you really happier this way? You must be honest with me.”

She shook her head, blinking out fresh tears. “No, I’m not. I just thought...by the time I realized I made the wrong choice, you’d have moved on. People like us don’t get to be happy.”

“Says who?”

How could she refuse him anymore? This would continue to go on until she gave in. And from the beginning, she wanted to give in. There was no use in fighting the inevitable. The small point of contact -- his hand on her chin -- radiated impressive warmth, and she could feel every part of herself being attracted to him, quelling some ache deep within her. 

Reaching up, she clutched at Helmut’s palm, which didn’t last long, because he pulled her into his arms, nestling her head underneath his chin. She melted into his embrace, finding solace in the warmth of his solid frame. 

“Come home with me,” he coaxed softly. 

“I will,” she murmured, surrendering to the comfort of his presence. “But you have to let me bring Pumpkin.”

He chuckled, warm and amiable, the vibration of his chest echoing in her own. “Of course, you’ll bring Pumpkin,” he murmured into her hair. Oh, how she had missed hearing him laugh. They could’ve stayed that way for hours, and she would’ve been content, but he pulled away, hands on either side of her face as he studied her.

Unable to hold back any longer, she leaned in to kiss him. It was chaste at first, all the memories of her last night with him came flooding back quickly when he parted his lips to deepen the kiss, but she didn’t want that quite yet, just needed a moment to process this. The simple comfort of being held by him, kissed by him, was more than enough for now. He’d been waiting for this, she could assume in the way that he responded, pulling her impossibly close so she was engulfed in him.

Her stomach flipped, a warmth blossoming in her chest as he pulled away, their foreheads touching. “Oh, I missed you,” she sighed, shivering as his beard tickled her neck, his mouth on her sensitive skin.

“And I, you,” he murmured. His eyes studied her, carefully, up close, and for the first time since meeting him, she really let him see her, teary-eyed and vulnerable.

She would never let him go again. 

---

A/N: So here we are! I know it’s been a ride, but I’m really excited for these two. However, I don’t feel like I’m done writing for Zemo yet. If ya’ll have any headcanons, thoughts, questions, requests, etc, feel free to drop them in my ask box or shoot me a DM. I’d love to talk more about him. I also would be down to write more oneshots based around this series, because I am sort of like….okay, they obviously have a connection, but they don’t know that much about each other, and I may or may not have a light future already mapped out for them. I might do an epilogue at some point even. But if you have anything you’d like to add, let me know!

Taglist: @juice-1981  @sapphiredreamer26  @tatooineisdry  @marvelsvision @spookycereal-s @trelaney @fireghost-x @booksarekindaneat  @thunderingbats  @felicityofbakerstreet @takacsgram @mischiefmanaged71 @fanfictionedagain @merelyhooper @gyllord @mundaytuesday @friday18eo  @lovegood7553  @adara-wolfhart @a-djarin @farawaywasteland @sky-writes-stuff @fuckinglittlekitten @katyasrussianaccent @agent-jbarnes  @neoarchipelago @pattispunk @kpopnena @purebloodwitch @spookyconsultingcriminal @msmarvelwrites @professorrw @lazyradeecal @captainrexstan @notyourfuckingbusinesss @felicityofbakerstreet @unlikekiana @maeday-18 @friendly-letters @fandom-lover-4 @meefal @queenfairyfangirl @gogomonbebelf @scullys-alienpussy @the-multiverse-approach @sky-writes-stuff @safiakillspop @eggofhumiliation @originalcollectorsaladsstuff @archangelproperty @friday18eo @jayden-rose-leon @actuallyanita @mayhemmachine @kermuddgen @zadiewrites @pach-inks @theokatz @reichelhache @autumnsoidier @mischief-siriusly-managed @danaaeaa @joey-motorola @singlemomslayer @stevesbestgirl @dinna-fashh @popriskra @xaanyhs @adorable-punk-superheroes​

#helmut zemo #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo x you #helmut zemo imagine #baron zemo #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #marvel #mcu #marvel writing #tfatws writing #daniel bruhl #zemo x reader #zemo x you #zemo fanfiction #helmut zemo fanfiction #writing #fanfiction #tfatws fanfiction #series

[bluemoonstonesy]

Christmas Lights

John Stones

summary - it’s finally time to put up the decorations, but john finds out the hard way that it’s not as easy as it looks.

christmas imagines list here

“You’re meant to actually wrap them around the tree - not just throw them on top and hope for the best.”

“Listen, I never said I was an expert at this.”

You glance up and down the tree, the string of coloured lights hanging on for dear life thanks to John’s very obvious lack of decorating skills.

“I can tell.”

It’s your fourth Christmas spent together, and the first of many in your newly purchased home on the outskirts of Manchester. Yet it seems that every year that passes, John’s decorating skills seem to get worse somehow, and as every second ticks by, you’re slowly regretting letting him take charge over the brand new Christmas tree that sits in the half decorated living room.

Before he has a chance to protest, you hear the sound of your phone ringing from where it sits on the couch. Walking over to it as John begins to play with a piece of tinsel, you notice the name of your best friend flash across the screen.

“Who is it?” John asks, picking up a bauble and tossing it in the air before catching it again with a smug look on his face. You flash him a look, a silent reminder to not break anymore of the decorations. You already need more than one hand to count the amount of baubles he’s broken from using them as a substitute for a ball in order to perform keepie-uppies in the living room.

“It’s just Emily I’ll be back in a minute,” You pause before looking hopelessly at the very depressing looking tree, “And please try not to set fire to the tree whilst I’m not here.”

John gives you a sarcastic thumbs up, picking up the lights once again and attempting to untangle them, “I’ll try my best.”

You hesitantly leave him alone with the cardboard boxes filled with decorations, opening the door to the conservatory in order to answer your best friend’s call. You spend a good few minutes arranging plans for her Christmas party next week which you promised to help her with. With a hushed tone, you also explain to her one of the gifts that you plan to give John, making sure your tone is hushed as to not alert his attention. When you realise you’ve been on the phone for longer than expected, you’re saying your goodbyes with a smile on your lips, promising to go over to her house the following day in order to help her sort out some more things in person.

But as soon as you end the call, you hear a shriek from the living room which could only have left the mouth of your boyfriend. Without a second thought, you rush back into the room, concern flooding your body in fear that he’s either seriously hurt in some way or has actually managed to set fire to the tree in a festive recreation of the ‘candle incident’.

Yet instead, the scene leaves you in hysterics. In front of you lies John on the ground, tangled up in the very same lights with a guilty look on his face, “Don’t. Laugh.”

But you can’t suppress the laughter that leaves your mouth, bending down to help unwrap the coloured bulbs from around his legs as John’s face turns red from embarrassment. Once he’s stopped resembling a festive hostage victim, you press a small kiss to his lips before chuckling once again.

“I’m actually impressed that you managed to do this - I’ve never seen someone accidentally tie themselves up with Christmas decorations before.” You tease as he throws a piece of tinsel in your direction.

“I think I’m gonna let you take charge of these bastard lights.” John hands them back to you with a face riddled with defeat, retreating back to the couch with a few specks of glitter from the baubles stuck in his hair, “Besides, the view is much better from here.”

———

tags: @footballffbarbiex

#john stones #england nt #man city #john stones imagine #john stones x reader #england nt imagine #man city imagine #football imagine

[lixie-lovie]

Circles

Minho x Reader ; Lee Know x Reader

Gn!reader

Word Count: 1358

Warnings: mentions of cheating, depression, anger, cursing, very angsty and about relationships! Don’t read if sensitive or looking for fluff; BRIEF mention of argument with parent!

Genre: angst with a happy ending

Note: Does this have a second part? Quite possibly. Is it almost more heartbreaking alone? Most definitely. Lol enjoy at your own risk!

—

“When was it that the taste of his lips came to be so bittersweet?” you asked yourself that night.

When did his hands, once warm and inviting, feel calloused and cold as they ran over your skin?

When did they stop touching you at all?

When did his breath fanning over your neck begin to feel so foul, or the sigh of relief that used to leave your plush lips turn into one of regret and annoyance as he came home every so often?

When did he stop coming home at all?

A burden, his presence became. The fights weighed heavy on your mind, your lack of energy felt burdensome to carry as you crawled into an empty bed again that night. His eyes, once alight with passion and gentle adoration, now empty and angry when you could muster up the courage to stare into them again.

When was it that he came home last?

When was it that you cared?

When was it that the love, once bountiful, ran dry?

When was it that you started finding purchase in escapism?

When did you begin reading those books, chatting with friends about boys you’d never met?

When did you start picturing yourself miles from your home, a home once feeling so full, just to see eyes of a man who had never looked your way before?

When did you start imagining scenes of passion and love with another?

Why was it you felt this way again?

—

You heard Minho before you saw him. The door slamming shut caused you to rapidly close the app open on your phone, clicking the screen off, instead listening to the quickly approaching boots knocking on hardwood as you stared intently at the swirling reflection of your bemused expression staring back at you.

“Who the hell is he?” He roared, enraged. Your brow furrowed in confusion, your heart soaring at the implications of his words. You felt your breaths leaving you harshly as the fear in your throat settled thickly there.

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you could be talking about.” You said, meekly, nearly praying he hadn’t heard you. Your prayers went unanswered as he gripped your arm tightly, pulling you to your feet from your previously stale sitting position. He made sure your eyes met his as he held your upper arm, his grip trembling with an emotion you couldn’t recognize.

“Don’t-” his voice shook, a trait much unlike him. You recalled high school presentations with an easy smile on his face, voice even and smooth, as he presented in front of crowds of people. You could hear years ago when his father would stand above him, cursing, screaming, and noticing no dip in his son’s tone, a voice ever sturdy. Now he stands in front of you, eyes shimmering and voice rickety. “Do not lie to me. I know, I already know. I need to hear you say it.”

Your legs shook, your mind racing. You couldn’t collect your thoughts. Minho was all you’d ever known, all you’d wanted. When did it change? Who was this other man to you? Why did you do it? Why couldn’t you say something?

His arms dropped to his sides violently, his hands curling into fists. It made you flinch, but the act was nonviolent. You had expected screams, anger, a slamming door, but instead you were faced with something much worse. Tears, care, heartbreak.

“They told me his name. They told me enough.” His eyes found yours again, his cheeks pearly and wet, his hair still messy from rushing away from practice. “Hyunjin.”

You gasped, heart lurching at the name, a reaction you couldn’t place.

“Who- damn it just tell me!” He threw his head back, in frustration or defeat you didn’t know. You said nothing. His breath faltered, voice softer now. “Just- Who is he?”

“A friend.” Your voice was scarily cold, quiet, but firm. A throaty laugh came out of him causing your brows to furrow.

“I told you not to lie to me. You were never good at it.” His eyes found yours again, this time angrier like you’d expected. Your mind replayed moments from months ago, the same words leaving his mouth as he had wrapped you in blankets and kissed your stresses away. Late nights you’d say you were fine, you’d already eaten, and those same words being uttered so differently now were teasingly directed your way as he would hand over your share of the take out he had ordered an hour before.

Your hands shook as you stared at him. He was waiting for your next words. He knew he had to wait or you’d never say anything. The anticipation killed him, his hands finding purchase in the pockets of his leather lined coat, still damp from the dreary rain outside.

“We’ve only been talking.” A half truth. Your eyes shifted left. Maybe this would be easier to swallow. You weren’t lying.

The shaky breath that left his chest rattled yours. “Talking how?” he pried. He needed answers. Wanted to be placated, wanted to be lied to maybe.

“Just-“ your voice broke, he flinched. “Just talking.” You said it in a sigh, the words easy to misunderstand. He took a few steps back, his mind in an obvious whirl. His eyes darted around before shutting, tightly closed. His guard was up, you dared to take a step forward, unsure why, unsure of what you’d do next. Your heart was racing, the way it had once before. What was causing this now? So long had it been since you cared, since he cared. Why now?

From his lips a sigh left, a word mixed in, barely intelligible. “Hyunjin.” A pain pierced your chest. Flashing images raced through your mind. Messy blonde hair, soft as your fingers pulled it back into a lose bun, your pink hair tie in stark contrast to the golden color. Soft eyes, harsh lines, a smooth, honey coated voice sighing out your name over the phone on late nights that minho's side of the bed was empty.

Your outstretched hand faltered. His fists grew tighter. A noise sounded through the living room of your shared home, a loud ringing. On a normal day it may have been barely noticeable. Tonight, as the rain poured outside, it could have been deafening.

A sound that lit a match in your heart burning in pain, burning in embarrassment, burning your cheeks and chest turning your ears red. Minhos eyes darted to the screen, face up on the table now, his hands tightened and shook at the name he saw there, his suspicions confirmed.

You could hear the heart wrenching sound that left his mouth as if piercing through you like a gunshot. Your lip wobbled, your eyes welling with guilty tears, as you took a shaky breath in focused heavily on the way minho's eyes stayed glued to the screen of your discarded phone.

“It’s not- I’m- I’m sorry” you said, the tears falling freely now. He sighed, his heartbreak evident in the way his hands shook as he reached out to touch you, his soft palm facing you, his fingers desperate to trace the lines of your face. He stopped short, freezing his limb middair. You questioned what to do, how to breathe. Until he pulled his hand back, as if the thought of touching you scourched him. He stared at his palm, never looking back at you, before turning on his heel swiftly, wobbling a little.

“You really were never good at lying.” He stated, firm and decided. You heard his heavy boots hitting the floor, counting the seconds before the door slammed and your heard the roar of his engine like a cry of pain in the rainy night as you sunk to your knees on the cold floor, tracing the screen of your phone, before gripping it tightly and looking at the new message with shaky hands. The bright light stung your teary eyes as you stared silently at the phone until the screen went black again, leaving you staring at nothing else but your guilty reflection, asking yourself questions again.

#minho #lee know #lee know x reader #straykids #stray kids #hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #heartbreak #angst #lol very sad way for me to come back ngl

[akitohsworld]

Disclaimer: So thank the horny God's I'm back! Don't we all love depressive hiatuses? We do, we do. So I hope y'all like this, I love me some bratty, shady wizard boi. Am I a simp? Yes, yes I am.

Warning: NSFW, smut, humping, teasing, very light humiliation, bunny costume

Bet. (Sub!Solomon X GN!Reader)

"Mnh fuck-", Solomon took in a sharp breath when your thumb rolled over his clothed tip in a circular motion.

Your lips pursed up in a smirk. "What's wrong bunny? Having second thoughts?"

He could be so cute. Although, being a brat just seemed more fun to him most of the time (a pity, really). Not that you minded, breaking him down into obedience was one of your pleasures after all. But moments like these were also nice for a change..

"Nnh hah W-hatever ..you're talking a-hn-bout", Solomon's pants underlined his neediness even more as his hips bucked up against your palm, reacting to your cold lips pressing against his collarbone.

It had been especially cold the past few weeks...

In a few days would be Valentine's day. Then this little bet of yours would be over. And one of you would have to admit defeat and fulfill a random request, or task or it could be whatever really.

"You think I'm not capable of holding off a few weeks?", Solomon had asked rather cockily.

Your hands had stroked through his locks in a loving, contemplating way before saying: "Hmm nope."

And Solomon, being the sneaky wizard he was, came up with a bet. Declaring you to fall into temptation first.

The rules were simple: 'No orgasms until Valentine's day.'

But it was allowed to make the other fall into temptation. In fact, that's probably what made this so entertaining in the first place. It was cute, really. Solomon was so set on making you eat your words that he deliberately tried to seduce you in every way he could.

But then one day, particularly this day, you visited purgatory hall for a proposed study session with Simeon and Luke, only to find Solomon all dressed up in a nice little bunny costume, which, by the way, hugged his waist and features so tightly you decided to ultimately end this game on the spot, and show him how dead wrong he was about your motives.

You indulged him for a while, letting him straddle you at random, taking in the view when the towel just had to slip, savouring the lascivious pictures meant to tease you just enough to come to him. All of which you resisted. After all, you wanted to have fun as much as you could.

He gripped onto the soft cushion of the couch as he leaned back more, pressing his back into it.

A laugh escaped him, turning into a moan. "Y-you must ngh be pretty desperate to... pounce on me like this..."

"Hmm, I don't remember giving you a free pass to be a brat, Sol," you palmed his strained erection, grinding into it decisively, making him groan and tense up even more. Your other hand grabbed his chin, thumb sliding over his swollen bottom lip. He had been biting it to stifle the moans.

You closed in on his face, eyes following his every expression, every movement. He looked so fucked out, almost desperate, as if he wanted to be ravished right now. Hooded eyes rolling back at the skillful movement and pressure your fingers applied to his clothed cock, ragged breaths tinting the air and dishelved locks adorned by contrasting black bunny ears falling into his face. All coming together in a delicious, submissive picture. He was close to give in. You could tell.

Oh how you wanted to devour him.

But no. You'd have him at your mercy first.

You retracted your hand, eliciting a low whine from him, replacing it with your knee instead and spreading his legs apart.

"Wh-"

"My lovely, lovely bunny~," you grinded into him.

"Hah fu- mnh-", his lips parted at yours softly moving against his.

You nibbled at the softness before proceeding to grind into him once again as your tongue slid into his mouth. Gracing his in a soft but firm manner, hands embracing his neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

"Mmnh.. hah.."

Solomon bucked his hips against your leg. His cock twitching against your thigh when his hands finally grabbed onto your ass, grinding his aching member against you for more friction.

You smiled for a brief moment, revelling in the feeling of his desperate movements against your body. You had him now.

A moan pressed to your lips, your sex twitched down under but you ignored it.

You were not yet satisfied.

A string of saliva connected you both as you parted, relishing in his dishevelled appearance for a moment.

"(y/N)", he whined.

"What?", you asked breathily, when an innocent smile traced your lips, "Something the matter, bunny?"

"I..mngh", he pressed into your thigh on his own.

"Oh?", you held onto his locks, harshly pulling back, forcing him to meet your eyes, "So you want to hump my leg, is that it?"

He shot you a clouded, cocky grin. "You look very happy about that."

"Do I now?", your fingers traced his neck in a contemplating way and his breath hitched. "A leash would have fit you so well too. But oh well, bunnies don't get leashes," you traced his lips, "They work for their pleasure all on their own."

With that you sat down beside him, leaving him with a puzzled and almost disappointed expression on his face.

He just stared at you, laboured breathing leaving his lips for a moment.

His face lit up as he seemed to grasp the meaning of your words.

"So, you're still going to make me work for it?" He straddled your thigh seductively. "Even though, I'm so readily submitting like a good bunny?" His lips formed a small pout, bunny ears swaying slightly to the side.

It took everything not to laugh at his expression. How childish~.

You grabbed onto his hips.

"Humour me, Solomon."

He murmured something to the effect of 'no fair' and wasted no time pressing his clothed erection against you. The damp spot smeared against your thigh. His brows furrowed when you flexed it to give him more friction, hands guiding his hips for the same purpose.

"Fuck hah (y/N)..," he grabbed onto your shoulders, then neck.

"Hm?"

His cock twitched visibly under the fabric as your finger experimentally flicked against the tip.

"I want to mark you...mnh please (y/N)," he made sure to moan that last one out in an overerotic tone. You just rolled your eyes at him playfully. But complied with him anyway.

After all, he would be losing the bet. So why not indulge him a little bit?

Your head turned slightly while his hands grabbed onto your lower back to rub himself harder against your thigh, moaning into your neck and sucking at the skin.

A pleased sigh escaped you, which seemed to spur him on, pants becoming more and more laboured. His movements becoming more aggressive to speed up, but your hands kept guiding him in a more steady pace to drag it out a bit longer.

"(y/N) please," he begged in a daze as he gazed at you through his lashes.

"Aren't you a needy bunny~", you teased, sucking at his nape and leaving a mark, making him shudder. "Adorable."

"More hah please more," his grip on you tightened around you as he buried his face in your neck, the bunny ears tickling your cheeks.

"Hmm~ Maybe if my bunny begs a little more."

"Hah mnh please, please (y/N) let me cum," his fingers traced under your shirt, caressing the sensitive skin, making you suck in a sharp breath.

Good God, this man was so good at begging.

"Mnh.. who is my cute little bunny?"

"I ammn", you let go of his hips, and grabbed onto his ass instead as you let him rub against your thigh faster, panting growing laboured and moans and groans spilling out of his lips. "I hah..am ahh your cute little bunny-"

Solomon tensed up, clawing at your back and thrusting harder and faster against your thigh, biting back a moan, when you mindlessly rubbed and slapped his ass.

"I- mn want.. need oh-"

You pulled his head back from the crook of your neck, fingers buried in his locks. "Hm?"

"Cum hah I want to cum, please"

You smirked, holding his head in place to see his expression. "Then cum, my bunny."

He thrust hard a few more times, fingers clenching at your shoulders as he spilled loud guttural moans in praise.

"ohH hah nh- (y/N)", his lips parted as he threw his head further back, followed by his body jolting in spurts against you, something wet staining your clothed thigh. "Hah.."

As soon as you let go of his head he collapsed onto you, head resting on your shoulder and hoarse pants leaving his glistening lips.

You lovingly stroked his locks, then kissed his head. "What a good bunny. You did amazing, love."

A low chuckle vibrated through him. "The risk I took was calculated... But man am I bad at math"

You laughed. "Are you talking about the bet?"

Solomon hummed, arms snaking around your waist, readjusting his position as he relaxed against you. "I can only imagine what you'll make me do... ," he breathed out tiredly.

Your lips curled upwards in a mischievous smile. "Well for now I'll devour my cute, shady bunny~,". you pushed him down on his back, gaining a surprised gasp. "Don't tell me you didn't see that coming?"

"Wha-," his face flushed redder in surprise as he looked up at you.

"It would be a waste not to use this opportunity, don't you think?" Your hands found the hem of his clothes. "Now. Where were we...?"

#obey me #dom!reader #solomon #sub!solomon #solomon x reader #smut #gn!reader

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Hi! I love everything that you write and heh I am a fan! 😄 tbh this is my first time requesting something on Tumblr! If you don't mind and if I am not being a bother...can you write about how the guys would react If MC suddenly starts making meme references? I don't know how I got the idea but I am REALLY curious. And love you! :D

Hiya! Tyvm for the kind words, and apologies that this took a while! I hope you have the chance to enjoy it regardless ❤️❤️❤️ Love you too, sweet pea! I promise to get to the next request you’ve sent ASAP~

Aight but this would be hilarious because the range of the reactions is just ungodly. I will be putting this under a cut after Napoleon so I don’t clog up everyone’s dash, but all the suitors are included below otherwise! 

Comte is the one that recognizes a few, but didn’t really stay in modern times long enough to be as well-versed as a Gen Z kid might. Regardless he finds the wittiness and absolute chaotic fuckery to be delightful, and will 100% support the harmless nonsense. It never fails to get a laugh out of him

Mozart that first day be like: “Buzz off MC I hate you” MC, because she likes swinging bats at wasps’ nests: “Well that’s not very cash money of you” Mozart: ?????????? Comte, giggling in the bg like the secret fae he is This one’s just because I’m petty, but after the events of Comte rt I just imagine them encountering Vlad again and MC’s just “I lived bitch.” while Comte is flipping him off behind her lkjahgkjhdsg

Comte @ Leo when he finds the latter under his desk: Had it not been for the laws of this land, I would have slaughtered you.  MC: wheezing from the hallway as she’s about to give him his letters

MC: So how was your day, honey? Comte: Good, good--briefly had to go beastmode upon the punk that pilfered my lint roller MC, biting her lip to keep from laughing: So does Leo still have his kneecaps? Comte: for now.

Comte, @ literally anyone upsetting the MC: I won’t hesitate, bitch

Comte: Be careful with my emotional baggage, it’s designer

MC: What if I was evil and ran towards you at very fast speeds Comte: My arms are strong, I would catch and hug you

Leo and Dazai are the ones that don’t have a single reference point but are filled with so much dumbass chaos energy that they just. Understand immediately???? Nobody knows how or why, but they just catch on so fast--adapt the language in a matter of weeks. Never underestimate the power of combined boredom, depression, and humor

I swear to god I just see MC taking them their Blanc/Rouge and being like “here you go sir, one enslaved moisture” and they just go fucking hog wild from day one. MC starts impersonating Theo when he leaves the room around Dazai, like fake deep voice “you all only hate me because you do not like me and I am mean to you. grow up.” Or like the MC meets a baby on her travels with Leo around town and she holds them and says v seriously and sagely “So you are Baby? I have heard tales of your exploits.” and Leo about loses his shit right there. They both think MC is the funniest person alive--they’ve never been more eager to throw a ring at someone in their entire life.

Also a bonus for my beloved Dazai:  MC, facing even the slightest inconvenience (like dropping her fork) in the most dramtic voice possible: Life is not daijoubu. Dazai: wheezing

MC, after watching Theo turn down a woman at the bar in the meanest way possible: bro quit letting the darkness consume you u r scaring the hoes Dazai, literally rolling around on the ground, half-drunk and dying:

MC, walking alongside Dazai and stopping to stare at her reflection in the River Seine. Dazai’s expecting some sad or twisted shit, since people often feel comfortable talking about those things around him, but instead she just: “Oh, it’s you. The source of all my problems.” And he about falls into the river from shock HAHAHA

At this point don’t be surprised if his next book is about an absolute madlad woman similar to MC

Napoleon finds it to be a delightful quirk more than anything? He doesn’t really understand it, but he finds it funny when they change their voice for effect or speak in exaggerated tones. If it’s just comprehensible enough for an outsider to understand--or Sebas gives him context--chances are it’ll send him into a laughing fit

For this one I just imagine MC singing that Ratatouille meme song obnoxiously bad while cooking, and Napoleon and Comte are just so wildly amused by it bc it makes zero sense and it’s only vaguely French at this point

MC @ Napoleon while they’re cooking brunch: Can I offer you a nice egg in these trying times?

MC, conflicted because she’s tired and wanted to sleep in but also got to see Napo’s cute sleeping face for a few hours: For my next stunt, I’ll wake up at 5AM on the day I can sleep in. Sebas: Early to bed and early to rise makes a person healthy, wealthy, and wise MC: early to bed and early to rise makes me a massive bitch Napoleon: laughing in agreement

Isaac is the type to be bewildered and concerned at first (especially when he hears the more nihilistic ones hoOOOoooOO BOY) but eventually begins to understand it’s some bizarre attempt at humor (that hurts Zack baby). While some part of him laments that it reminds him of Dazai and he’s secretly jealous of how she and Dazai bond over it, he will sometimes join in the chaos when the mood strikes him and he’s feeling mischievous

Isaac: How are you feeling? MC: Oh, I’m not Isaac: seconds from dialing 911 Isaac: Are you okay? MC: Oh yeah dw I just suffer from that syndrome where your neutral expression makes you look like you’re an angry serial killer Isaac: say sike rn

Isaac, tutoring MC and correcting something:  MC, muttering while redoing it: The risk I took was calculated, but man am I bad at math. Isaac: unable to help a laugh

One time MC was avoiding Isaac for fear of hurting his feelings and he just confronts her like: Isaac: back by unpopular demand, me! What’s wrong, MC pls MC was so hecking proud of him

Isaac, telling MC about a recent discovery he learned at uni from another professor: bones typically heal stronger after they’ve been broken--so long as they’re set properly, of course MC, looking him dead in the eyes: So what you’re saying is that I should break every bone in my body until I become superhumanly powerful? Isaac: please do not, no

Mozart and Jeanne are just. Totally lost. Why are you talking like that??? Why are you making “crab hands”???? They don’t understand. Maybe never will. They reach a point where they just kind of laugh and shake their heads, endeared by the oddity after they’re used to it and have determined it isn’t a threat/insult. 

MC: It’s a cold and it’s a brooooken, Waluigi. Waaaaluigiiiii...waaaahluigi..... Mozart: surprised, then starts snickering and playing along on the piano

Arthur, asking MC very personal questions out loud because he is an idiot sometimes: Soooo MC, are you a top or a bottom? MC: I’m a threat. (If he asks a second time, the response will be “Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy.”) Jeanne, fighting a smile:

MC, about to punch an asshole: Your free trial of being alive has ended Jeanne, seconds from laughing for the first time in 100 years:

Also, because I genuinely can’t help myself. You know that knight meme like “Parry this you fucking casual.” I cannot stress enough that it is literally the personification of Jeanne’s entire character. I’m not even joking.

Arthur and Shakespeare are utterly fascinated by the rapid evolution of wordplay and the sheer hilarity. They will ask all about these so-called “memes” and ask for examples of them if MC can show them (either somehow accessing her phone or drawing them). MC draws Arthur the knife cat meme and he about a s c e n d s at the hilarity of it all, points and yells THEO IS HOLDING THE KNIFE. He is correct. They will be delighted and follow along eagerly, and--god forbid--will make their own based on late 19th century struggles.

Is this where Shakespeare got the idea for “What, you egg? stabs him” and “You are a saucy boy.”? I’m too scared to ask. Don’t even get me started on “The Fool jingled miserably across the floor.” That one is just too on the nose...

I can’t even imagine what would happen to Shakespeare if MC like translated vines and memes into Ye Olde English around him. Imagine she’s at one of those noble balls and hears rumors of these two guys living together and they’re so obviously gay and he says “And those gents w’re roommates.” And in the most false surprised tone ever MC just replies “oh mine own god, those gents w’re roommates.” Imagine having a wife that’s just as hilarious as you are and hits you with all the force of a bag of wet mice every time you speak in retaliation, he’s going into palpitations.

Every time Arthur does smth stupid MC just: “I Pretend I Do Not See It.”

Vincent is tickled pink by MC’s penchant for finding joy and/or amusement in nearly everything they do, and he smiles gently when he sees them muttering and laughing to themselves. He wants to be able to join them in what they love, but he has a harder time following along and understanding the darker humor sometimes. Mostly gets confused??? Please give him the easier ones to mimic and laugh when he tries--or just include him in your jokes MC. He’s babie your honor...

But he also. Will not. Stand any kind of self-deprecation or borderline verbal self-harm. He’s usually very easygoing and calm, but for whatever reason that stuff makes him go deathly quiet and upset.

MC, after something goes horribly wrong, hugging Vincent: Oh Vince, we really in it now Vincent: giggling a little despite his worries, relaxing

MC: Theo stop simping for Vincent that’s my job

MC, when Theo leaves the room and she gets Vincent all to herself: The evil is defeated.

MC: And this is where I would put my will to live...if I h a d one! Vincent: ;-; MC: oh shit, oh fuck, I was only kidding Vincent wait (MC was subsequently lectured and loved on for many hours)

Theo is conflicted because on the one hand, he loves to see you smiling and having fun. On the other, you’re clowning as hard as Dazai and Arthur and he can only handle so many monkeys in his circus. Most of the time he will roll his eyes and be the straight man of this comedy, but you might find him cracking a smile--or accidentally letting a chuckle slip past his lips now and again.

MC, after meeting Theo: I’m a nice person, but I’m about to start throwing rocks at people.

Theo, those first days: Oh? You’re approaching me? Instead of running away, you’re coming right to me? MC: I can’t beat the shit out of you without getting closer.

Theo: Every time I ask MC to explain “vibe check” to me she hits me with some kind of improvised weapon

MC, after the “incident” (you know the one): This year, I lost my dear lover Theo Theo, in the distance: QUIT TELLING EVERYONE I’M DEAD! MC: ;-; sometimes I can still hear his voice...

Sebastian is last because oh boy. OH BOYYYYY I LOVE HIM. Okay so the way I see this happening with Sebastian is just. So wild. Because at first he’s t r y i n g so hard to be the proper butler man. He does not meme. But then he starts to drift closer to what Niles from The Nanny was, where he’ll quip and joke in private or when the situation is just beyond the amount of absurdity he can handle without making a snarky comment. Everyone in the house can’t fathom how Sebas and MC got so close so fast, but there are points where they’re just “Are they even speaking English anymore???” It’s 11 times funnier than normal because Sebas almost never smiles or laughs when memeing, the deadpan quality of his playing along sends MC every time

Has ABSOLUTELY said “HEY. PANINI HEAD. ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME???” jokingly when MC made a mistake in the kitchen. They laugh about it for y e a r s

MC: I can’t date someone who keeps a lamb as a pet, that’s so weird Sebas, brushing Lotte in front of MC: MC: MC: Okay, I will make an exception because she looks very polite

MC and Sebas, fully aware of the fame some of the men will reach in modern times: We will watch your career with great interest.  (I s2g that’s like half of Sebas’ rt right there I’m crying)

Sebas rt with Lotte be like that 500 dollar Mareep meme: “sometimes a family can be just a boy, his gf, and their 500 dollar two foot tall Lotte”

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp meme #ikevamp headcanons #ikevamp hcs #ikevamp napoleon #ikevamp mozart #ikevamp leo #ikevamp leonardo #ikevamp arthur #ikevamp vincent #ikevamp isaac #ikevamp theo #ikevamp jean #ikevamp jeanne #ikevamp dazai #ikevamp shakespeare #ikevamp comte #ikevamp saint germain #ikevamp sebastian #can you tell I had way too much fun with this aksjhfkhsj #i am a degenerate memer I saw this ask and straight up went It's My T i m e. #though i hope this was a fun response for you love! i did my very best <333 #tyty for the ask~ #rambles #not incorrect quotes #mild profanity

[tamagochiie]

pairing: timeskip!kenma x fem!reader

synopsis: You come home late from your cousin’s funeral, and though Kenma didn’t expect much from you but perhaps a few leftovers you’ve managed to steal away from the dinner, he finds you with a surprise: a sleeping child cradled around your neck and a teenage boy hovering behind you.

Your poor boyfriend wondering what in the hell it is you’re plotting…

tags: angst and fluff, time skip!, slight spoilers if you squint

warnings: mentions of death, mentions of depression, cursing 

w/c: 2.5k

a/n: welcome to the first chapter of this series! i’m very excited to start this, and i hope everyone who reads it enjoys it as well! i got the idea from a manga i was binge reading a while back, so the themes and a few of the plot points are different, but as it progresses, i’ve made it my own. 

anyway, happy christmas! see you next week! 

master list

life as she’s known it >> 

You notice the subtle clench of Kenma's jaw beneath the warm glow of the hallway's light. His hooded gaze strained by hours upon hours of gaming meets your wavering grin. The gears in his head are turning very slowly, and since silence has fallen upon the atmosphere of your shared apartment, you can actually hear the little squeaks as your poor boyfriend tries to fathom the sight before him.

You have quite a knack for bringing peculiar things home without permission; the little frog you adopted on the side of the road during your commute home one stormy night, the mud pie your nephew made for you that stunk the entire apartment for weeks because you didn't have the heart to throw it away—at least not immediately; and the dinner you brought home from the self-proclaimed "legitimate" kebab restaurant that resides in the sketchier side of the city.

All quirky things that Kenma had accepted and grown used to.

But this? This was so far from the bar you had set for his expectations, he can't help but wonder if you're pulling a prank, or maybe even actually committing a crime. But the glint of guilt and sorrow painting so deep into your face tells him otherwise.

Oh, how the poor gamer wishes it was a prank.

You swallow your fear, forcing it all the way down to the pit of your stomach. You've practiced all you've needed to say in the ride home, but all you can manage is stuttering, "I-I can..I can explain," in rather hushed tone.

There goes all my practice, you think to yourself.

Kenma raises a brow, still peering at you with the driest expression. The child in your arms begins to weigh heavier than the pressure placed upon your chest.

Ah, he just might break up with me after this...

"This is—uh, this one behind me is Eiji—Ejij say hi." The young boy behind you bows shyly, his greeting softer than a whisper it feels like you imagined it. "And this little one—sleeping soundly—this one's Yuki..."

Kenma blinks away at your words, face unamused. You regret not even trying to bring home some cake. Maybe if you did, he wouldn't be so...upset? Is he upset or is it just his face again? You can never really tell.

You huff, quietly jumping to the harsh conclusion this'll be the moment he ends things with you. But you won't go down without at least a little fight.

"Look," You sigh, shifting your hold beneath Yuki's tiny bum so he doesn't slip away, "They needed a place to stay, and no one was willing to take them!" Your lips fall dry and the more you speak, the more your words come out strained. "In a room full of people who—who called themselves your family for so many years fall silent the moment they needed help! No one spoke up to help them! It was so bad, Kenma! I-If you were there you—"

You bite your tongue, catching yourself before you're swept away by the current of your rage.

A deep, shaky sigh escapes him. His eyes finally tearing away from you as he cranes his head back, seemingly accepting his temporary defeat. "Let them sleep in the spare room and we'll talk after," is the only thing Kenma says to you before turning around walking away.

The constricting feeling in your chest eases and you sigh in relief. You mentally high five yourself for your momentary win before twisting your gaze over your shoulder to look at the young boy towering over you, motioning him to follow you.

You never noticed how wide the apartment actually is. Maybe its because of the emptying feeling you were left with back in the hallway, but it all seems so eerily wide. Like, what are two people doing with such a big space?

He'll definitely break up with me after this.

There's still a lingering prickly feeling in your heart; a mixed emotion of a win and a loss. You try your best to prepare yourself for whatever the outcome may be, but deep inside you're already prepared for a break up.

The young boy trails behind you all the way into the bedroom, leaving a considerable amount of space between the two of you.

You switch the lights on, revealing a room big enough for more than just two kids. A desk on the side, a king size bed at the center, and a window with a good view of the city. It was usually the room Hinata crashed whenever he came back from traveling with his team, but he hadn't been here in months. Traces of him were left in the form of dust.

"Will this be good enough for now?" You ask Eiji as you shrug Yuki's backpack to the floor before making your way over to the bed.

His head is lowered, eyes still failing to meet yours. He's been like this since you pulled them from under the gossiping gaze of your family.

Family, you think. The word seems so meaningless now.

"When someone speaks to you, you ought to look at them," You say it with a genuine smile, hoping that the little warmth you have left in your heart radiates off you and onto him.

God knows he needs it more than you.

"Y-yes, you're right. Thank you." He stammers, "I'm-I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude—"

"Hey," You say, gently cutting him off as you hold your smile. He's still as soft and shy as the day you first met him. You can't help but smile at the thought that he never changed. "I'm not mad or anything...Its just a teaching moment. Remember it."

You watch as Eiji slowly shifts his gaze away from the floor, slowly raising his head to meet your eyes."There you go. You've got pretty eyes, you shouldn't hide them."

He hums a quiet thank you before turning around and shifting his attention to his backpack. You take care of the little one still hanging onto you, pressing a kiss onto his little forehead and rubbing his back before settling him down onto the bed.

You're careful not to stir him as you slip his shoes off. You tuck him in, brushing his hair away from his face to reveal his long lashes and puffy eyes.

Ah, there goes the heaviness in your chest again; a recurring feeling for the day. You wonder when it'll end and your heart sinks even deeper when you remember Kenma waiting for you.

Hesitantly, you excuse yourself and make your way to the door. You let Eiji know where the bathroom is and tell him not to be scared to ask you for anything, "Please don't scared," is the last thing you mutter before leaving the boys to rest.

You tiptoe across the living room, down the hall and towards your shared bedroom. The wooden floorboards creak beneath your feet whispering, "You've done it now", "You've crossed the line", and "He's definitely going to yell at you".

You clench the knob of your bedroom door. The thumping of your heart deafens your ears and your throat grows too dry for you to swallow your fear.

You shut your eyes and pray to the deities, hoping for a good outcome—hoping for any outcome than the one you're expecting.

It takes a moment—five minutes to be exact—but you muster a sliver of courage to push the door open. For some odd reason, you imagined Kenma would be sitting at the edge of the bed, silently brewing in his anger. But instead, he's on the floor, knees up to his chest as he fiddles with his Switch.

And you can't tell if you're annoyed or relieved.

You shut the door behind you before joining him on the floor. You keep your head down, picking off your nail polish while you wait.

Kenma pauses his game, setting it down to the side before completely leaning against the bed, lulling his head back to take a breath. You shut your eyes and you take a deep breath when you feel him shifting in his place to face you.

Here it is. He's going to yell at me, you think.

"What are you plotting?" He asks, not a single trace of irritation found in his voice but rather sheer curiosity dripping from his words. You keep your head down and eyes shut. "You ought to look at someone when they're speaking to you," Your name rolls off his tongue playfully, covered in nothing more than love and sincerity.

You peak an eye at him, lifting your head. "You're not gonna to yell at me?"

"When have I ever yelled at you?" His face contorts in judgement and a little concern, wondering if his girlfriend's broken or just completely stupid. "Why would I yell at you now?"

"I brought home two stray kids..."

"Yes, you did," He says matter-of-factly, "and we need to talk about that. So, can we please talk about that?"

You nod slowly, bringing your knees up to your chest before turning your whole body to face him.

Kenma sinks his elbow onto the end of the bed, cupping his chin for support before he speaks, “Who are those kids and why did you bring them home?"

Kenma looks at you directly, his face emotionless, but a bit softer compared to when you were first standing in the hallway. He blinks at you, waiting patiently till you're ready to speak.

"They were my cousin's kids," You say in a strained whisper. "The—The one that died in the accident." Kenma hums in response, signaling you to keep going. "We weren't close—as you know or else you would've heard a lot more about him—but we felt close enough...given what our family's like..."

Growing up with the kind of family you had and having met everyone from your extended family was kind of like living in a block of ice that never melted; solid in their beliefs, slippery with their anger, and had no room for any other emotion.

You made this very clear to Kenma when you first started dating, especially when he had asked to meet your family. He wasn't one to socialize or even initiate it, but he would do it if it meant doing it for you. But you turned the idea down fast, warned him that there'd be no reason to have to go through all that stress just for you; and though he was just as stubborn as you, Kenma gave in and never brought it up again when he saw how upset you had gotten.

But in chest full of ice cubes, there was your cousin, Akihiro-san. Like you, he was different. He wasn't cold, but he was so genuine and real, you couldn't help but doubt his kindness.

A kindness you failed return when he needed it most. So, when you saw your moment of opportunity, you snatched it, regrettably leaving your boyfriend as an afterthought to your decision.

"I owe it to him, Kenma..." You plead in whisper. "I owe to him because he was the only one who was ever nice to me..."

"These are kids," He counters, dipping his head to meet your glossy eyes. He takes your cheek into the palm of his hand, his thumb tracing circles over your skin. "This would be different if it were a puppy or a plant—but these are living and breathing kids and we know nothing about raising kids. My love, we're only in our twenties..."

"But—"

"You should've called first." He cuts you off, his tone still soft , but firm. You’re at least grateful he’s called you your pet name. "You should've called me and asked."

"You would've said no..."

"How do you know? You never called me." There isn't resentment in Kenma's words. Its still  playful and light, but you can feel his hurt and you feel dumb because you know exactly why. "I would've liked to have been included in this decision...especially since this is my home and you are my girlfriend, and you promised that we would make decisions together."

You frown, tears brimming to the surface as you realized what you've done and how you've probably made him feel.You denied him of his choice, and you were silly to believe that it was okay to go over his head and behind his back.

As you whisper a string of apologies, Kenma presses his forehead onto yours, smiling at you. He was angry at first, but not so much anymore.

"Are you going to break up with me?" You sniffle, voice breaking at the thought. "I'd understand if you wanted to break up with me...But I just—I really wanted to help them. I'm so sorry I didn't ask you first, I couldn't just leave them—"

"Shhh," His breath fans against your skin, "I'm not breaking up with you, stupid. Given, this is probably the biggest wild card you've thrown at me by far, but its not enough for me to break up with you."

You hide your face into dip of his neck, sobbing into the material of his sweater, letting go of the strength you had from holding back and stain it with your tears. You had always been reckless, but it never turned him off. He never raised his voice, he always heard you out, and even when you slipped up, he always forgave you in a heartbeat.

It makes you question if you’re deserving of such a love as this. 

“I was very angry and very offended,” Kenma begins, “I didn’t like what you did. It made me feel like you couldn’t trust me, and it made me feel like you saw me as some kind of terrible person that would turn away kids that need a home...”

You shake your heard, muttering a “no” to his assumption. 

Kenma runs his fingers through your hair and down to your back, soothing you until you've caught your breaths. He'll soft press his lips against the crown of your head, discreetly swiping the little sweat off his lips to keep you from being offended.

"S-So, what do we do about the kids?" Your question muffled but Kenma can hear you just fine.

He sighs, and as he's about to pull you away from his chest, you tighten your hold around his waist. "Please look at me," Your shoulders fall and you pout when you come face to face with him. He chuckles at how ridiculously childish you look, "Do you really want to do this?"

Your eyes widen, "Y-yes. I want to do this, but if you don't want—"

"Better us than anyone else, right?" You blink at him, processing. "I don't know shit about kids, but if you really want to do this, I'll support you. But you can't expect me to be good at this."

Kenma falls onto your shoulder and rests all his weight onto you, letting out a sigh. Panic envelopes his heart, his stomach flipping and churning as he stresses over all the things that's yet to come.

“We’ve been dating for four years, and I’ve just only gotten the hang of you now...” He admits in a heavy sigh.

I'm still a kid, he thinks, groaning. He's plays games all day, forgets to shower, and doesn't know how to cook either. He works from home, rarely goes out unless he needs to or if you want to. Out of the both of you, you're--surprisingly-- more put together than he is.

Can he really do this?

"Please don't expect much from me," He begs, "I don't do well with kids, and you even took in a grown one. What if it doesn't like me or if it forget to feed it?"

You chew on your lip, holding back a laugh and quietly smile to yourself. Vulnerability paints well on your boyfriend, and you wish for even more moments like this.

“I promise it’ll only be until we kind find some other arrangement for them...Something better." You’re not entirely confident in your words, but you understand the idea of having them stay with you isn’t the most sound solution. 

"I suppose if we mess up, we'll mess it up together." He says in defeat, sprawling his legs open before wrapping it around you, pulling you as close to him as possible. He cradles your body tightly just as Yuki had done. "You don't understand how unbelievably lucky you are that I love you."

#Haikyuu!! #hq!! #Kenma Kozume #Kenma Imagines #kenma x reader #Kenma x y/n #kenma x fem!reader #Kenma Fluff #kenma angst #kenma headcanons #haikyuu headcaonons #kenma fanfic #haikyuu fanific #kenma #haikyuu fanfic #kenma au #kenma kouzume #hq fic #my works #mine