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i-am-dead-inside-666 · 3 years

Text

Apologies

Steve/Tony(+Bucky)

Summary: Steve and Tony make up and a cute stuckony moment. Wow that’s a crap summary.

Warnings: some angst I guess but mostly fluff. Bad language.

Please don’t post this on other platforms without my permission. Thanks 😊

Nobody cared. Tony knew that, he'd been hiding in his lab for six days now, not coming up for showers or to sleep, barely eating. The only regular schedule he kept to was the hourly coffee renewal. Cold coffee reminded him too much of lazy mornings with.. Steve... soft cuddles and whispered nothings, mugs forgotten on their side tables.

He hadn't seen another human in over a week. He'd passed out in the lab several times, from lack of food and drink, or just pure sleep-deprivation, he didn't know.

Nobody had been to check on him, because that had always been Steve.

He'd always been there to pick him up, striding into his lab with confidence that only Captain America could hold. Sweeping Tony's exhausted body against his chest, he'd carry him up to their bedroom, where he'd hold him tightly in his arms until Tony felt a little bit less broken than before.

But Steve wasn't there anymore, no one was.

So he huddled in the tiny gap under his desk, his stomach twisted into so many knots that he could barely breath. His hands pulling at his hair, as though they had a mind of their own, his nails clawing painfully at his scalp.

His chest was hurting so badly, and he wasn't sure whether it was from where Steve had slammed his shield through the arc reactor, or the fact that it was Steve that slammed his shield through the arc reactor.

He loved Steve so much, and the pain at him abandoning him, like everybody else in his life, it made him feel completely worthless.

A low whirring noise dragged him from his thoughts, forcing himself to relax his hands, he loosened the grip he had on his hair and looked up. Through teary eyes, he watched as Dum-E nudged his chair out of the way and rolled closer to him.

"hey Dum-E." Tony managed to whisper, a small smile stretching his cracked lips. The robot cocked his claw, almost like someone would do when they were confused, then he pushed forwards until Tony reluctantly lifted his arm up and let the robot nuzzle against his side.

"...I know.. I miss him too." His trembling voice was barely heard audible over the blaring music that he was definitely not using to try and drown out his self-destructive thoughts.

Squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to stop anymore tears from escaping, he twisted his fingers back into his hair and tucked his head back between his knees.

————————————————————

"I don't want to be here long, I'm just grabbing some stuff." Steve muttered, more to himself than to Bucky as he hurriedly grabbed clothes from the wardrobe he and Tony used to share.

"Yeah whatever punk." Bucky answered, absentmindedly glancing around the room. His gaze settled on the neatly made double bed, too neat. His brow furrowed and he stepped forward, Steve was too busy rummaging through something to notice him.

He let his metal fingers trail lightly over the bed covers, concerned at the layer of dust that had accumulated there. There were two bedside tables, one on each side of the bed, in various states of disarray.

The one on the opposite side of the bed must have been Steve's, as he could see several half finished drawings scattered by the base of the lamp.

However it was the one nearest to him that drew his attention, it was much much messier than Steve's. There were several coffee stains on the surface, and Bucky couldn't help but roll his eyes, coffee was apparently the only thing the genius ever drank.

He was vaguely aware of the other objects cluttering the table, but his gaze was fixed on the nondescript flip phone, placed with almost inhuman precision so that it lined up perfectly with the frame of a picture.

The frame was facedown on the side table so that the picture it contained couldn't be seen. Glancing over his shoulder to check what Steve was doing, he had practically climbed half way inside the wardrobe, making Bucky grin despite himself.

Turning back to the bedside table, he ever so gently lifted the frame up, gasping softly at the beautiful scene captured behind the glass.

Steve and Tony, both in perfectly tailored suits, posed for the camera, the former holding the latter bridal style with ease. Bucky's heart fluttered at the dopey smile on Steve's face as Tony planted a firm kiss on his cheek.

Both of them had their left hands thrust towards the camera and Bucky's breath caught in his throat, matching silver bands glinted on their fourth fingers. Steve never told him he and Tony were actually married.

Confetti rained around the happy couple, a mix of red, blue and gold, celebrating the colours of the two superheroes. The confetti was suspended in the air around the two, reminding Bucky that that's what this was, a special moment from the past, from a happier time.

His ears pricked suddenly, detecting the slight increase in Steve's breathing, decades of living as the Winter Soldier had given him unparalleled senses.

He turned, the frame still clutched tightly in his new metal arm that had been anonymously delivered to him and Steve's hideout. The moment Steve had opened the package, he'd burst into tears and refused to leave his room for three hours. Yet he still insisted that Bucky use the arm, even if his smile strained slightly every time he set eyes on it.

Steve's face was almost as pale as Bucky remember it from the 40s, coupled with his wide eyed stare and trembling hands, he could almost believe they were the same person.

"I'm sorry I- I was just- looking." He anxiously tried to explain, gesturing half heartedly towards the messy side table.

The blonde blinked slowly, as if pulling himself from the depths of a dream, "It's.... fine." He waved away Bucky's poor attempt at an explanation, trying to hide the way his voice cracked.

"No it isn't." Bucky replied in a much more measured tone, gauging his friends reaction. Steve's jaw went from slack to so tight that Bucky was afraid he heard his teeth crack.

"Everything is fine." He ground out, stiffly turning back to his suitcase and aggressively beginning to stuff everything he'd pulled out of the wardrobe into it.

"You didn't tell me you guys were married."

The only response he got was a shrug and a murmur he could barely make out. "wasn't important."

Bucky sighed, gently placing the picture back down, upright this time. He made his way to the end of the bed and perched there, softly tugging on Steve's shoulder until he huffed and joined him, falling heavily onto the bed.

Back in the tower, back in this room, back on this bed, all the memories Steve had been suppressing came rushing back to the front of his mind. Almost without thinking, he leant his head down to rest on Bucky's shoulder.

He couldn't help but miss the feel of Tony's, softer and lower, Buck's were.... harder, tough cords of muscles beneath his shirt. Both were comforting and familiar, but he couldn't have both... could he?

The former Winter Soldier was momentarily taken aback by the sudden contact, and he stiffened. He couldn't help it, seventy years of being conditioned to fear human touch.

A pang of guilt shot through him, as he could tell he'd managed to make Steve feel worse because as soon as he realised he'd tensed up, Steve had bolted upright, like a child caught doing something wrong.

Quickly wiping his tears from his cheeks, he mumbled, "M'sorry, I shouldn't have brought you here Buck, we can leave.. I'll send Nat to grab my stuff later."

Knowing he'd crossed some sort of line, Bucky simply nodded, watching from the bed as Steve returned to rooting through the chest of drawers.

Finally, curiosity got the best of him, "Watcha looking for now?"

"My dog tags." Steve muttered, slamming his fist on to the drawers, wincing at the audible crunch. "I- I gave them to Tony." He swallowed thickly, "But they aren't here."

"Where else could they be? The kitchen? The-"

"Lab!" Steve exclaimed, finishing Bucky's sentence for him. "Fuck." He swore, clenching his fists tightly to stop himself from punching something, anything.

"Then go get 'em." Bucky prompted, unable to stop himself from rolling his eyes as Steve's jaw practically fell open.

"Wh-what?!" He spluttered, "You- want me- to go up to my husband who I left and- and- say hey, uh- yeah, sorry to intrude, but you know that really important meaningful thing I gave you- yeah- I want them back." Steve raised his voice to a dramatically high pitch, earning another low sigh from his exasperated boyfriend/friend whatever they were.

"Do you love him?" Steve's eyes practically fell out of his head at the question, shifting slightly on the bed Bucky continued, "Lemme rephrase, do you love him more than you love me?"

"I- what?!"

"I see the way you look at him. You.. you don't look at me like that." He continued, wincing as Steve's features contorted in pain.

"Buck I-"

The brunet stood up so that the two were eye level, even that jarred Steve for a moment, his words dying in his throat, he was so used to looking down....

"-don't feel bad," Steve frowned, forcing himself to stop thinking about Tony, to focus on Bucky's next words.

"I- I've been wanting to talk to you about this anyway.." Bucky trailed off, thinking about how to phrase his next sentence, "I know we used to talk about us back in the forties, and- it really is a dream come true that we got a chance to figure- this-" he gestured between them, "out, but- you aren't- you aren't happy with me.."

Glancing sadly back at the photo, he couldn't help the low sigh that left his lips, "You love Stark- Tony." He corrected himself.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Steve pressed his palms against his temples. "You're right!" He yelled, "But you're also wrong! So fucking wrong!"

The vein in his jaw twitched as he gritted his teeth, alerting Bucky to just how annoyed he was. "I'm... wrong?" He asked hesitantly.

"Yes I love Tony! But I also love you! And- and- I can't choose!"

"Well maybe you don't have to.." Bucky thought out loud, Steve's gaze snapped towards him.

"What?"

Bucky shook his head, "Nothing, it doesn't matter, just- go talk to him you punk."

A bittersweet smile creep crept up Steve's face, "Shut up jerk." He retorted, making his way to the door, he paused for a moment in the doorway, hesitating. Impatiently, Bucky waved him away, ignoring Steve as he rolled his eyes.

Thoughts raced through Steve's head at a million miles an hour as he walked down the hall, what if Tony didn't want to see him, what if he was mad at him, hell, if Steve were him he'd be mad at himself-

He was at the doors to the lab way before he was prepared, he could already hear Tony's music through the doors.

Steve didn't realise his fists were clenched until he forced himself to relax, exhaling sharply as he examined the crescent shaped indents in his palms.

Taking a shaky breath to steady himself, he cast his eyes towards the ceiling, an old habit that he could never shake. "Ja- Friday? Could- um- could you let me in please?"

"I'm sorry Captain Rogers, Mr Stark has removed you from the system. I am unable to grant you access to the lab."

Steve's frown deepened, what could he do now? Break the door down?

Friday's smooth voice interrupted his internal monologue, "Although, if the door to the lab was accidentally left unlocked, technically I wouldn't be allowing you access."

A small grin lit Steve's face up, "I knew I liked you." He chuckled under his breath, tugging on the door which slid open with ease.

"Tony? Are you here?" Steve asked hesitantly, as he stepped into the room, his words nearly inaudible over the music.

His gaze swept over the empty room, he waited a moment before moving towards the bombsight of a desk opposite him. He subconsciously kept his footsteps light, a habit he'd picked up trying not to wake Tony if he'd fallen asleep in the lab.

He reached the desk, glancing over the papers scattered across it, he paused as he recognised the blueprints for Bucky's new arm.

Tearing his eyes away, he was almost ready to pack it in and leave, but as he turned, his enhanced eyesight caught the sliver of steam rising from the coffee mug.

The line between his brows deepened and he let his knuckles drag across the porcelain, nearly hissing at the heat. Since when did Tony drink his coffee that hot?

Then it hit him. Hot coffee, Tony must still be here, he wouldn't have been able to sneak past Steve. A low sigh slipped through his lips, he knew exactly where Tony was.

Rounding the desk, he gently pushed the chair to the side, crouching down to peer into the foot space beneath the desk.

What he saw made his heart shatter and his eyes well with tears. Sure he'd seen tony like this before, huddled beneath his desk, shaking, crying, pulling his hair hard enough to keep him grounded.. and every time he saw him like that, his chest ached, but this time, this time he knew that he had caused this, Tony was in pain because of him, and that hurt.

Tony's grip on his dark locks loosened, and he turned towards the sound of Steve's voice, his watery eyes widened, "Steve?"

Hearing Tony's broken voice was the last straw and the tears he'd previously managed to hold back fell from Steve's baby blue eyes, spilling down his pale cheeks.

"You're not real." Tony finally mumbled, pressing his palms over his eyes and shaking his head. Steve barely heard his whisper, but he did, and his hand tightened, his fingers pressing dents into the desk where he gripped it.

"Friday. Pause the music." He growled, anger at himself seeping into his tone. Tony looked up at the sudden silence, his stare blank as he seemed to look straight through Steve.

His gaze sharpened suddenly, bloodshot eyes meeting Steve's with such intensity that the super soldier nearly flinched. "I know you're not real!" He snapped, "Now get out of my head."

Tony waved his hand in dismissal, mere centimetres from Steve's nose. He made an attempt to crawl out from under the desk, nearly tripping over Dum-E. Steve quickly moved backwards out of his way, watching Tony as he stood up and attempted to straighten his clothes.

The brunet refused to look in Steve's direction, he simply offered a small smile to Dum-E. Steve jumped up as Tony turned to walk towards a separate bench, picking up a small and hunching forward over a delicate piece of machinery.

"Tony- please.. I really am here." Steve tried again, desperation creeping into his voice. Tony hesitated, sure, he'd hallucinated seeing Steve before, but never like this, it never hurt as much as this.

He turned slowly, screwdriver still clutched tightly in his fist, his fingernails pressing deep enough into his palms to draw blood as he cautiously stepped towards his husband.

He was on edge, waiting for this hallucination of Steve to turn on him, slam his shield into his chest, say something horribly hurtful and horribly true or simply wait until he could almost touch him, and then vanish.

Steve's eyes flicked between the sharp object Tony was gripping like a lifeline, and his face, so full of pain and hurt that Steve's stomach twisted with guilt. Not wanting to scare the skittish engineer, he froze.

Tony bit his lip as he edged nearer, taking in Steve's rigid posture, neither of them even dared to breath.

The hand that wasn't gripping his screwdriver moved, almost subconsciously towards Steve's face, trembling as his fingers followed the sharp line of his jaw. A frown creased his brows at the rough stubble there, the screwdriver slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor, although neither of them acknowledged it.

"You're really here?" He asked, uncertainty making his voice waver slightly. Steve nodded slowly, searching Tony's deep brown eyes for any hint of forgiveness or understanding, "I'm here Tones."

"Don't. Call. Me. That." Tony hissed, withdrawing his hand suddenly. He tore his eyes from Steve's, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I don't care if you're really here! Get the fuck out of my lab!"

"Tony-" Steve corrected himself, "Don't push me away- I swear I feel so bad about- about Siberia-" he cringed as soon as the word left his mouth, leaving a bitter taste in its wake.

Shivers shook Tony's body, spreading out from between his shoulder blades as every single memory he'd been struggling to repress came flooding back.

His parents. He was looking at his parents, after so long, he'd nearly forgotten what they looked like, how beautiful his mum was.

He knew what was coming, but he couldn't help but flinch as the car careened off the road, smashing into a tree.

He watched, barely breathing as The Winter Soldier ripped his life apart. Hatred burned like acid in his stomach, but not towards Bucky, not even towards The Winter Soldier, but towards himself.

For nearly thirty years, he'd hated his father, hated him for every time he was 'too busy' to spend time with him.

Hated him for every time he compared him to Steve.

Hated him for drinking that little bit too much and slapping him around.

But all that blame for his mother's death, was completely misplaced. Tony's heart ached as he recalled his fathers last words from the video.

"Maria- my wife- please help my wife..... Sergeant Barnes?"

"-ny- breathe- come on- follow my breathing." Steve's voice cut through Tony's panic and he realised that he could feel the steady thrum of a heartbeat beneath his fingers.

Biting back sobs, Steve pulled Tony's body against his chest, moving slightly so that Tony's head could rest against his broad shoulder.

"Come on Tony, I'm sorry- you're in the lab with me. Remember. Follow my breathing." The feel of Steve's warm, familiar shape wrapped around him comforted Tony as he struggled to control his erratic heart and heavy breathing.

"I'm sorry- please don't leave me- stay please- I don't wanna.. don't wanna be alone-" Tony mumbled, eyes still unfocused and slightly glazed.

"No- I'm sorry Tony. I- I screwed up big time." Slowly, Tony's breathing evened, but he let quiet, listening to Steve's explanation.

"Me and Buck weren't exactly accepted in the 40s. So we stopped ourselves, pretended we didn't have feelings for each other. And then I went into the ice and I thought I'd never see him again."

He sighed heavily, subconsciously running his hand down Tony's side, "I really love you baby, I swear I thought I'd completely moved on. But then he came back." Steve's face twisted into a grimace, "And all those old feelings came flooding back- an' I couldn't lose him again-"

His voice broke at the end, and he dropped his head into the crook of Tony's neck, his shoulders shaking.

"I'm sorry." He cried, tears soaking through Tony's T-shirt. Blinking back his own tears, Tony carefully extricated himself from Steve's tight embrace. He didn't pull away entirely though, simply twisted himself in Steve's lap until they were facing.

He carefully cupped Steve's jaw, tilting the soldiers face so that their equally teary eyes met. His thumb rubbed small circles over the rough stubble as he contemplated his next words.

"I understand why you did it.... which makes it even harder I guess, 'cause I know I'd do the same for Rhodey." Tony sighed, "I can't forget about this, not yet... it still hurts too much." He rubbed at his chest slightly, his gaze softening when Steve's face fell.

"But I can forgive you." He finished, blue eyes meeting brown as though they were seeing each other properly for the first time.

Steve was rendered breathless for the second time in less than half an hour, as Tony's hand snaked round the back of his head, fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck.

Neither of them moved for several long, tense moments, they simply stared into one another's eyes, mapping their faces out in their minds as they recalled every reason why they fell in love in the first place.

Then Steve moved, leaning forward to capture Tony's lips in a slow and cautious kiss, his large hands sliding up Tony's side, rucking his shirt up and tugging him closer to his chest.

Relaxing into Steve's arms, Tony's eyes slid shut and he melted into the familiar feeling of Steve's lips against his own. He smiled into the kiss as Steve's tongue swept along his bottom lip, easily working its way into his mouth and pushing between his teeth.

They kissed until they ran out of oxygen, breathing heavily and in sync as they pulled away.

Tony tilted his head forward so that his forehead rested against Steve's, his eyes still closed as he caught his breath.

"I missed you." He confessed, peering through his lashes at Steve, "And I'm sorry for screaming."

The blonde chuckled softly, "I did deserve it." His face turned serious again, "I am sorry, Tony."

Just as a smug grin crept up his face, Tony chose that exact moment... to faint.

Panic gripped Steve's chest for a moment as the brunette slumped against his chest, then he heard Tony's stomach grumble loudly, and felt the ribs poking through his shirt.

"Oh Tony." He sighed, rolling his eyes as he easily scooped the shorter man into his arms and striding out of the lab.

"Wh-" Tony's sleepy mumble made a smile tug at the corner of Steve's lips, even as he had to tighten his grip when Tony attempted to wriggle out of his arms.

"M'fine- gerrof!" He growled, pushing against Steve's broad chest, "S'fine you apologised, you can go now- put me down!"

So Steve did, dropping Tony onto one of the kitchen stools so that he was sat at the island, facing Steve as he started pulling ingredients out of the cupboards.

"What are you doing?" Tony groaned, placing his chin in his hand to stare at Steve.

Steve ignored the question, asking one of his own, "When was the last time you ate?" Glancing over his shoulder, he sighed in exasperation as Tony shrugged, mumbling an off handed, "I dunno."

"Jeez Tones, have you thrown all my food away? He complained, throwing his arms up in annoyance.

Tony shrugged again, "I don't like your rabbit food." He fastened his gaze on the floor, "And it reminded me too much of you."

Steve tensed at Tony's mumbled statement, turning around to stare at him as he continued, "Didn't know if you'd be coming back anyway."

"Tony-"

The brunet sighed, "Don't, I told you, I get it." He muttered, half way off of the stool before a large hand landed on his shoulder, pushing him back down.

"Sit. Down." Steve snarled, "We are not discussing this now. I am making you some healthy, nutritious food. Then you are going to brush your teeth, get in the shower and go the fuck to sleep. Cause no offence but you look like shit."

Tony rolled his eyes but remained seated, brushing Steve's hand off his shoulder, "Language." He mocked, trying to lighten the mood.

A low chuckle left Steve's throat, and he moved back towards the stove, cracking several eggs into a bowl and beginning to whisk them.

Tony stifled his own giggle, glancing around the kitchen as his stomach growled again, his eyes drifted over the door and he stiffened.

Watching Tony's eyes widen in fear, Bucky felt guilt settle on his shoulders. He edged his way out of the doorway, avoiding eye contact with Tony as he cleared his throat quietly.

Steve whipped round at the noise, "Uh- Buck- I.. we were just..." he gave up when he saw Tony's judgemental stare from the corner of his eye, he gestured awkwardly at the omelette, "Food."

"Right, do you want me to go? Natasha sent the quinjet over." Tony's face crumpled at the mention of the red headed spy's name, remembering the sharp sting of betrayal that stabbed his chest every time he thought of her.

Steve glanced worriedly at Tony, "Ah- no. It's fine," he slid a plate across the island and Tony frowned in disgust, trying to ignore the super soldiers presence somewhere behind him.

"Steve- it's green." He pointed out, prodding it suspiciously with his fork. Steve rolled his eyes, dropping into the seat opposite Tony, "It's got spinach in it you baby, just eat it."

"Keep rolling your eyes and you might find a brain somewhere back there."

"Shut up. Not all of us are geniuses ya know," Steve shot back, his Boston accent creeping into his voice.

"Evidently." Tony snarked, stabbing his omelette again. "Oh for fuck sake!" Steve cursed, trying to hide his grin as he yanked the plate towards him and snatched the fork out of Tony's hand.

Bucky smiled at how quickly the two of them fell into what he assumed were old habits, trading sarcastic comments like sweets at Halloween.

"I don't need you to cut my food up. I'm not a baby Steve. And watch your language."

Steve frowned, shoving the plate back towards Tony with his omelette now in bite sized pieces. Tony pulled another disgusted face, but grudgingly started eating anyway.

"Buck do you want one?" Steve asked, standing up and grabbing a couple more eggs, they were large ones, but still sat easily in the palm of his hand.

Bucky hesitated, decisions had always been difficult for him after... hydra, but this one was the worst he'd ever faced.

Sure Steve, why wouldn't I wanna sit down to a nice meal with you and your husband, oh yeah, your husband, you know the guy you cheated on with me and then left half beaten to death in a freezing bunker. Could this get any more awkward?!

"Um-" he hummed, silently hoping that someone would make the decision for him. Steve smiled tightly, noticing Bucky's discomfort, he pointed at the seat next to Tony, "Sit down, I'll make you one.

Apparently it can get more awkward! Why, why would you sit me next to him, it's not like we tried to kill each other like a week ago. Bucky felt like face palming, was Steve really an oblivious asshole or was he actively trying to start a fight.

He cautiously moved towards the stool that Steve had gestured at, trying to ignore the way Stark shifted away from him, shoulders tensed.

Measuring his breathing helped calm him slightly, in, out, in, out, four even breaths later and he was sliding into the seat next to Tony.

They sat together in silence whilst Steve finished cooking another omelette, sliding it onto a plate and across the island.

"Eat up ba-" Steve blushed, cutting himself off as Tony's grip tightened around his fork, the metal grinding against the porcelain of the plate. "-ucky. Bucky." He tried to save himself, his face redder than a beetroot.

A loud yawn broke the silence that followed, and both Steve and Bucky turned to stare at the sleepy engineer. When he noticed their stares, he shot them both a cold glare, "What? I'm tired ok." He snapped.

Steve grinned, "Come on, let's get you to bed."

"Stop treating me like a baby Steve. I can take care of myself." The blonds eyebrow quirked at Tony's statement.

"Really? When was the last time you actually slept in your bed?" Tony flushed, "You used to pass out in the lab, quite often if I remember correctly."

"Is this your long winded way of getting me into bed? Cause I hate to tell you, but you might wanna up the romance a bit." Tony sassed, sliding off his stool and stumbling towards the door.

Steve laughed, "Gimme a sec while I put this stuff away." He scooped the eggshells off the side of the counter and moved to put them in the bin. Whilst he was busy cleaning up, Tony continued to stagger away from them.

He'd barely made it three steps before his knees buckled and the ground rushed towards his face.

Suddenly, strong arms were wrapped around his torso, pinning his arms to his sides, caging him into a broad chest. Tony gasped softly, his nose inches from the floor, "Thanks babe." He mumbled, twisting in the tight grip so that he could look up at- BUCKY?

Tony felt heat rise up his face, "Uh- I thought you were Steve?" He squeaked, sounding more like a question than a statement, he smiled weakly as he met Bucky's deep brown eyes.

"Hmm, you're cute when you blush." Bucky muttered without thinking, staring down at the small man trapped between his body and the floor.

"Um- do you two want me to leave? Give you some privacy?" Steve cut in, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

Bucky jumped as though he'd forgotten Steve was in the room, he glanced over his shoulder, ignoring Tony as he wriggled between his arms.

"Um sorry that bambi here hasn't figured out how to walk properly yet." He stated, a teasing edge to his words, before Tony could even blink, he was cradled like a baby into Bucky's chest.

There was an arm hooked beneath his knees, and another on lower back which held him steady, the metal cool against his hot skin, even through the material of his shirt.

Tony could hear Steve's heavy footsteps follow them as he was carried into the bedroom and dropped unceremoniously onto the bed. He bounced onto the soft mattress, a low uff pushing past his lips at the shock. Bucky couldn't help but grin, pushing a stray hair out of the billionaires face and tucking it behind his ear.

Steve smiled softly at the two of them, pulling the corner of the duvet back so that Tony could snuggle beneath it.

Without thinking, he leant forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. Lingering for several moments, he eventually pulled away, opening his mouth to ask Bucky whether he was ready to go, when a hand circled his wrist.

Tony blinked up at him sleepily, "Please stay." He whispered, tugging the super soldier back towards the bed.

Steve shot a wary glance at Bucky, who was laughing silently at the confusion on Steve's face. "It's fine jerk, I'll go meet 'tasha on the quinjet."

"Nah uh." Tony's childish pout was directed at Bucky, making the assassins heart melt at the pleading looks in his doe brown eyes and sulkily stuck out lip.

"You... want me to stay?" He hesitated, surely this was overstepping at least 100 boundaries.

"Please." Tony whined, his eyes seeming to get wider and cuter the longer they were fixed in Bucky's.

Steve chuckled, "Oh dear, you've made the mistake of looking into his puppy dog eyes. He knows they get me every time." Bucky finally managed to tear his eyes away from Tony's, to realise that Steve had stripped into his boxers and was sliding in to the bed next to Tony.

The two stared at him expectantly and he shuffled, rubbing the hairs at the back of his neck, "I dunno, is there even enough room in the bed? I-"

"I'm not going to sleep until you join us." Tony sulked, folding his arms across his chest.

Bucky sighed dramatically, his hands awkwardly fumbling as he yanked his hoodie over his head along with his T-shirt. He opted to leave his sweatpants on, and slowly edged under the covers.

The bed was plenty big enough for all three of them, with enough room for Bucky and Steve to be able to comfortably stretch out. Tony sighed in satisfaction, nuzzling his head int Bucky's chest as Steve curled around him.

Cautiously, Bucky brought his metal hand up from where it rested against the covers, he loved his new arm and he made a mental note to thank Tony for it tomorrow. He'd been working especially hard on learning to control his strength.

Now wanting to scare Tony or himself, he moved at the pace of a snail to rest his fingers in the engineers thick locks. Amazingly, he could actually feel the hair against his hand, and ever so gentle, he began to play with the soft brown hair, smiling at the content hum it earned him.

Bucky stayed awake for much longer than both Steve and Tony, the latter passing out minutes after Bucky had started playing with his hair. Steve took longer to fall asleep, but as Bucky lay perfectly still, he listened to the blonds breathing get slower and steadier.

Looking down at the two men cuddled up next to him, he couldn't help the warm feeling of hope that spread through his chest. A small smile curling his lips, he let the soft exhales of his friends lull him to sleep.

#Steve Rogers #Tony Stark #Bucky Barnes #Steve/Tony #superhusbands #stuckony #stucky #CACW

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elisela · 4 years

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make my wish come true buck x eddie, g, 2k, fluff and sweet drunk boys for @madamewriterofwrongs because for once it wasn’t @tylerhunklin who said “yes write it” after sending me a TikTok

“Four,” Buck says. His head is tipped back on the couch, cheeks flushed, eyes bright—Eddie wants to reach out and touch him, to trace the lines of his face with gentle fingertips, to press his mouth against Buck’s and see if his lips are as soft as they look, if they would give way underneath Eddie’s teeth and thumbs and—“no, five,” Buck says, looking over at him. “Six? I dunno, Eds, s’probably time for water.”

“Probably,” he says. He doesn’t move. The kitchen—it’s so far away, and the couch is already tilting a little, pressing Buck right against him, his body radiating heat that Eddie feels down to his bones. He presses a palm down on the arm of the couch, but his stomach lurches as soon as he shifts forward and he gives up. “Gonna regret this in the morning.”

“Long way from now,” Buck says, and his head drops onto Eddie’s shoulder. “Hey, Eddie. Truth or dare?”

“This is a bad idea,” Eddie says. He’s still sober enough to know that Buck’s usual dares take a dangerous turn when they’re drunk—it’s only happened twice before, but he can still recall how cartwheeling into the side of the house had quickly ended the game last time. Still. “Dare.”

“I dare you to do a handstand for five minutes,” Buck says. His breath blows out over Eddie’s skin as he laughs, seemingly already picturing Eddie struggling in his mind.

“Fine,” Eddie says. He still doesn’t move. “I’m gonna puke on your floor though.”

Buck’s arm slides along his waist as he twists, ending up with his face smashed into Eddie’s neck, his weight pressing Eddie back into the couch. “Nevermind,” he says, and he rubs his nose into the crease of Eddie’s neck, laughing again when Eddie tries to push him away. “I don’t wanna clean it—no, stay—”

Eddie relaxes, stops struggling against him, but Buck’s still got most of his body tucked against Eddie’s so he doesn’t feel bad about the hand he keeps on Buck’s waist. “S’this mean I win?”

“No,” Buck says. “I get a do-over.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

“Do not.”

“Do too,” Buck says, poking him in the ribs. “You can’t just say you win, Eddie—” the way Buck’s lips brush against his skin drives him crazy, and he’s too buzzed to remember that he really shouldn’t be leaning into it, he should probably pull away, move himself across the couch and to a safer distance, where he couldn’t smell the shampoo Buck uses from the way his hair tickles under Eddie’s nose, “—uh, did you say truth or dare?”

He frowns. “Um. Dare?”

He always chooses dare. Buck somehow hasn’t caught on, but he’s not worried about Buck’s dares, all some variation of physical stunts that will likely result in one of them breaking a bone at some point if they keep it up. But truth—he’s heard the questions Buck asks Maddie, asks Chim. He can’t risk that Buck wouldn’t dig straight to the bottom of his soul if he got a chance.

“I dare you to get us water,” Buck mumbles.

“Okay,” Eddie says, and neither of them move for several minutes. Buck’s head gets heavier on his shoulder, and Eddie feels his own tilt down until his cheek is resting on Buck’s forehead. It’s—gravity. Alcohol. Nothing he’s doing of his own volition, just—”you still awake?”

Buck hums. “I’m hungry. Let’s go get tacos.”

His stomach turns over. “Pancakes.”

“Oh, those dumplings you like at that one place—”

“The one by—”

“No, the other one,” Buck says. “Think they deliver?”

“Not at three in the morning,” Eddie says. He doesn’t really know what time it is, but it’s been dark for hours now, so—maybe.

“You ever been to San Francisco?”

“Not since I left my heart there,” he says, and snorts when Buck makes a confused noise. “It’s—nevermind. No. Have you?”

“”m gonna take you ‘n Chris,” Buck says. “There’s a place, they have these green onion pancakes—it’s amazing. I dream about ‘em.”

“When’d you go to San Francisco?” He’s heard Buck’s life story, knows the trips he’d been on with his family, the route he’d taken through South America and up through Mexico before landing in Los Angeles. Nothing further north than L.A. had ever been mentioned.

“After Abby,” Buck says. “Drove up the coast, tried to get used to being alone again. Didn’t need to, I still got you guys.”

His throat is only dry because of the alcohol. God, he wants. He wants to tell Buck that he always has him, has Chris, that as long as Eddie’s alive he’s going to wait until Buck decides he wants him. He thinks—well, he’s never quite sure if he’s reading things the right way. There’d been the ghost of Abby, then Ali, then a long stretch of no one until Buck had started to make comments about dating, about finding someone, but—nothing ever came of it. And every time Eddie thought, this isn’t something just friends do—like this, this cuddling on the couch with Buck’s fingers pressing idle patterns against his skin—he’d turn around and see Buck getting just as close with Hen, his feet in her lap on the couch at work, or catch him flirting with other people.

It’s fine. Eddie’s just not used to friendships like this, such tactile, vulnerable relationships, but he can live with it, even if he constantly wants more, even if he sometimes would bet on Buck wanting more, too.

“You ever go?”

“No,” Eddie says, even though he’s pretty sure Buck had already asked. His hand is in Buck’s hair, somehow, scratching the pads of his fingers against Buck’s scalp. “Want to.”

“Let’s go,” Buck says. “Trade our next shift, we can take Chris—”

“Our next shift is Halloween,” Eddie says, and there is absolutely no one who will trade them if it means they end up working on Halloween.

“The one after that, then we have six days—there’s the bridge and Chris would love Alcatraz and we could drive up—”

“You don’t have to convince me,” Eddie says, a yawn interrupting his words.

“Cool,” Buck says, and Eddie can always tell when he’s smiling by how his voice sounds. “But ‘m still hungry.”

“Water.”

“Carbs,” Buck says. “Oh, sourdough bread. You think Uber Eats can bring it?”

“I think we should have water and go to sleep,” Eddie says, but again—he can’t bring himself to move. Buck is warm against him, soft and happy, and Eddie would stay awake all night if it means getting to touch him like this, getting to drop his chin down so that his lips almost brush Buck’s forehead as he speaks, a poor imitation of the way he wants to kiss him.

“You remember the sourdough french toast we had last Christmas? Where’s that? I want it.”

“Chris wants a dog for Christmas,” Eddie says, dropping his hand to the back of Buck’s neck and squeezing. The groan it draws out of Buck is enough for him to squeeze harder, and the little gasping noise he makes when Eddie rolls his thumb up behind Buck’s ear—“I think I’m gonna give in.”

“You should,” Buck says. “A big one. What do you want for Christmas?”

“Someone who will take care of a dog when Chris inevitably loses interest in twice-daily walks,” Eddie says, shaking his head. It bumps his chin against Buck’s head, and he catches himself just before he presses an apology kiss to the spot. “Dunno. It’s October, I haven’t thought about it. What do you want?”

“You,” Buck says sleepily. “And carbs. Maybe together, like, at the same time. Oh, you know those banana muffins you make and you make them into pumpkin muffins for Halloween? Do you have Christmas muffins? Like—wait, what would you put in Christmas muffins?”

“Maybe eggnog,” Eddie says, and then he blinks when everything Buck said filters through the haze covering his thoughts. “Wait. Did you—”

“Eggnog in muffins? Eddie, that’s gross.”

“‘s’not gross,” he says, because he makes amazing eggnog french toast—well, Sophia makes it, same thing—and he can’t see why eggnog muffins wouldn’t be delicious as well, but really there are more pressing issues here like “did you say—”

“You.”

His hand stills on Buck’s neck. “Like,” he says, slowly, trying to force reason through everything he’s had to drink tonight, “like—you want to spend Christmas together?”

Buck snorts, but he doesn’t say anything for a long moment and Eddie wonders if he’s drifting off to sleep, or if he’s having the same trouble trying to think clearly. “If that’s what you want me to mean,” he says finally, yawning. “You’re right, we should sleep.”

“I want to know what you meant,” Eddie says, and a second later Buck’s hand is cupping his jaw and pulling him down, tilting Eddie’s head as he brings him into an open-mouthed kiss; Eddie tastes the bitterness of the vodka on his tongue as Buck kisses him, swallows down the soft noises Buck makes, keeps his hands absolutely still against Buck’s body like if he moves it’ll break the spell. “If you forget this in the morning—” he says when Buck pulls away, and Buck laughs softly as he moves away, shaking out his limbs before standing up.

“I won’t,” he says. “Come on, you can sleep in my bed. I’ll keep my hands to myself, I promise.”

“I—” can’t make that promise, he thinks. His lips are still wet from Buck’s kiss, and he shakes his head. “No, I’ll sleep here. Don’t—just—”

“You worry too much,” Buck says, “I’m a little buzzed but not so drunk I’ll—” he trips over an errant shoe as he passes by, and Eddie reaches out to steady him. “Okay, just because I tripped doesn’t mean—”

“Just go to sleep,” Eddie says. “Goodnight.”

“Eddie.”

“Goodnight,” he says again, because maybe he can forget—or not forget, but convince himself that one kiss doesn’t mean that much, that the thrill it sent up his spine was just because it’s been so long, that—

“Goodnight,” Buck says, and he bends down to kiss Eddie’s forehead before he stumbles his way out of the living room and up the stairs. “You can come join me when your back starts to hurt, old man.”

Eddie flips him off, even though Buck can’t see, lays down, and prays.

-----

“God,” Buck groans the next morning, cursing loudly when he runs into a chair and it scrapes against the floor, “death would feel better than this. I want coffee. Come make it for me.”

“Just because I cave to a ten year olds whims doesn’t mean I’ll cave to yours,” Eddie says, pulling his arm down from where it had been over his eyes, blocking the sunlight. “Do you have to have so many damn windows?”

Buck’s been up for ten minutes, talking loudly to Eddie the entire time, and it’s all Eddie can do to lay there and pretend like his heart isn’t breaking. He knew it, he knew, he should have—stopped him, or something. Should have let the “you” go unanswered, ignored it, realized that being lonely and drunk caused a person to do things they didn’t mean and make promises they wouldn’t keep.

He closes his eyes again as Buck walks over to the couch, lets himself be manhandled into a seated position while Buck sprawls out next to him. He can do this—it’s just the same kind of contact they usually have. He’ll be fine.

“Whatever,” Buck mutters. “Here, I want you to listen to this,” he says, nudging Eddie until Eddie opens his eyes and looks at him. “Ready?”

“Sure,” Eddie says, waving a hand weakly. He’s not sure what he expects, but bells and Mariah Carey in October is definitely not it. “Buck.”

“Told you I wouldn’t forget,” Buck says, leaning against him. “I’d kiss you again but something died in my mouth overnight—”

Eddie leans over and hits the pause button on Buck’s phone. “I’m telling everyone you played me All I Want For Christmas is You, you know.”

“Good,” Buck says, grinning. “It was pretty romantic of me, right?”

“I think we have a very different idea of what is or isn’t romantic,” Eddie says, but he turns his head to the side and presses a kiss to the corner of Buck’s smile, then another, and has to pull himself back before he does anything else. “Let’s go talk about it during breakfast. I’ll take you out.”

“It’s a date,” Buck says, and leans in to kiss him again.

#buddie fic #buddie #eli writes #more shit based on tiktok videos lets all be surprised #evan buckley #eddie diaz #drunk boys in love #yes i wrote what is essentially a christmas fic in september

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knickynoo · 4 years

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Doc & Marty Friendship Mega-Post

As anyone who sees my posts knows, one of my favorite things to explore in regards to Back to the Future is Doc & Marty's friendship. There are plenty of examples of great dynamic duos in TV and movies, but these two are by far my #1. I know I’ve said it (many) times before, but I’ll say it again: their friendship is beautiful for so many reasons. So, I decided to put together a huge list compiling my absolute favorite things and moments about these two time-traveling best buds.

(Absolutely gonna need to put this under a cut. Going full-ramble, people.)

THE BED & THE AMP. Listen, I can’t even estimate how many times I’ve seen the first movie, and I never knew that there were two beds in the lab until like, 3 months ago? But it is such a good detail, and definitely one of my favorites. It makes sense too, because obviously there are probably nights Marty is helping out with a project & it gets super late so he just crashes there. But I can also imagine that Doc fully realizes that with Marty’s dysfunctional home life, his friend is gonna need a break from it all every so often. And the amp? Look, I don’t care how it came about. Maybe Marty asked Doc if they could build one. Maybe Doc decided completely on his own to just spend weeks putting the thing together. Either way, it is wonderful. Without any dialogue or backstory needed, these things tell us that Doc’s lab is a safe-haven for Marty. There’s a key right under the mat so he can come and go as he pleases, a bed for him, and a gigantic amp that he can play his music on without fear of being told he’s too loud.

The whole “If you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything,” line. I made a whole post about it, so I won’t go into my thoughts again, but yeah, it gives me feelings. (see post here)

How absolutely thrilled Doc and Marty are to see each other in the twin pines mall scene. (It is honestly one of my favorite moments in the entire trilogy, even though it’s almost a blink and you’ll miss it kind of situation.) In like 5 seconds, there are several things happening in rapid succession that wonderfully establishes their relationship. The warmth in the way Doc says, “Marty!”. The fact that they both immediately reach out to the other for physical contact. The smiles on their faces. This is not just a scientist and his assistant, people. These two need each other and bring genuine joy to the other’s life. I mean, look at them.

And this whole little scene is even more significant when you take into account the McFly dinner scene that we got directly prior to this. (See my breakdown of that scene here-it was one of my favorites to write) You see Marty go from this still, quiet, solemn shell of himself at dinner to smiling and asking questions and moving all around in excitement and it is FANTASTIC.

This line:

There’s just something kind of warm and familiar about it? The way that Doc says it almost as soon as Marty starts to ask a question & the way he reaches out to briefly grab Marty’s vest in order to further get his attention just seems to convey that this is something Doc is really used to. Like he knows that when Marty is curious about something and excited that a barrage of questions is soon to follow, so Doc’s in the habit of quickly reeling his friend’s focus back in when they have a specific task to accomplish. I don’t know, I just like it a lot.

The fact that Doc doesn’t “dumb” anything down. He rattles off all his scientific jargon, knowing that Marty has the capacity to follow along as best he can and ask questions if he needs clarification (in which case Doc will completely break it down with models or drawings because he’s all about helping Marty to understand). Unlike Strickland, Doc does not see a slacker. He knows Marty just needs to be engaged and that once he is, he’s totally into all this science stuff.

Marty & ‘55 Doc being so comfortable with each other after only a few days. Because Marty of course has to adjust to this younger version of his friend and Doc obviously just met Marty when he showed up at his house, yet there they are...already totally in tune to each other and being the best of buddies.

THE GOODBYE SCENES. See my ramblings here & here. For real though, Marty pulling Doc into that hug & looking absolutely broken with grief is probably one of my favorite movie scenes. Like, of all the movies I’ve seen. Yeah.

Doc traveling back and forth through time to try to pinpoint what went wrong with Marty’s kids so that he can stop it all from happening.

The scene on the roof of Biff’s hotel when Doc is there with the DeLorean as Marty steps off the ledge? And “Nice shot, Doc!” A+

The whole letter-reading scene in part iii. The way that Marty is wandering all over the lab in the background, touching everything and clearly trying to distract himself from the reality that he’s never going to see Doc again once he gets back to 1985. And when Doc is hyped out of his mind to end up as a blacksmith & Marty goes, “Pretty heavy, huh?” trying to smile but it vanishes instantly & there’s that look on his face that so clearly says he is miserable about this whole situation. And then. AND THEN.

THE ENDING OF DOC’S LETTER from part III. “You’ve been a good, kind, and loyal friend to me, and you made a real difference in my life. I will always treasure our relationship and think on you with fond memories, warm feelings, and a special place in my heart.” !!!!!! Honestly, sometimes I just think about the impact Marty must have had on Doc. Really though. Here’s this guy who’s spent most of his life in solitude. He’s super into science & shunned by the community for being a “nutcase” just because he’s a little different and quirky. So he throws himself into his projects, has only his dogs for companionship, and talks to pictures. Then here comes this kid one day who actually takes the time to SEE DOC and appreciate who he is. Who not only accepts him completely, but thinks he’s cool and totally best friend material. Imagine what it was like for Doc to connect with someone after so many years spent alone and looked down on.

The look of awe on Marty’s face during the scene with the telescope, as he realizes how smitten Doc is with Clara. He gives this great expression with his head sort of tilted and there’s this disbelief and wonder in his eyes as he takes in the fact that he’s seeing his best friend in love for the first time.

Just...all the times they risk everything to save the other’s life.

The ease with which they show affection to each other. It’s so natural and refreshing to see. They’re open and honest about their feelings, allow themselves to get emotional, and are totally comfortable with physical closeness in the form of a supportive hand on the arm or a hug.

** I of course have to acknowledge the completely baffling lack of a hug in the parking lot scene at the end of the first movie because...honestly, who was responsible for that? I would like a word with them. You’re telling me that after running all the way to the mall, scared out of his mind at the thought of Doc dying all over again, then the way that Marty just collapses and starts sobbing that he wouldn’t immediately grab Doc after seeing that he’s alive??? I tell myself that when the scene cuts after Doc delivers his line about the letter that there was a hug there**

So, um....yeah. I could go on I’m sure, but these are the main things that came to me when I started thinking about why it is that I enjoy these guys so much. It all goes back to the same theme I’ve mentioned in several posts. There is so much heart to these films, and a lot of it comes from the friendship between Doc and Marty. They’re both misfits in their own way. Doc is isolated from the community and Marty is living in a house devoid of support and healthy role models. They fill in gaps and are a source of safety and love in the other’s life. And I appreciate so much how these funny & exciting time travel movies are able to include such a complex, beautiful friendship between a 17 year old kid and an old scientist.

#ugh i finally did it #this took me weeks #i slowly compiled all the moments that stood out #please ramble about Doc & Marty with me #PLEASE #back to the future #bttf #marty mcfly #doc brown #nikki rambles

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frustratedpoetwrites · 3 years

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Sins of the Fathers Update

This is a story set at the same time as Teddy Lupin starts Hogwarts, and the mystery of a muggleborn girl he meets on the train.

I will be updating this story Monthly.

Chapter One: Hogwarts

Chapter Two: Portraits and Memories

Chapter three: Dear Mr. Potter

Chapter Three. Dear Mr. Potter

Harry sat at the kitchen table of his home surrounded by his family. Lily was sitting in her high chair happily working on some buttered toast, Albus was stirring his porridge in imitation of his father who was doing the same without paying much attention to it. His focus was on a field-report that had been hand-delivered to his home early this morning. James kept taking sideways glances at his mother then looking down sheepishly spooning enormous mouthfuls into himself. Ginny was sitting between her two boys, this morning's daily profit in front of her, a slight thinning of her mouth whenever she glanced at her oldest son, the only indication she was still mad at him.

If anyone had seen this family only ten minutes earlier it would have been a completely different scene. Sparing a thought for his wife he glanced at the ceiling and spotted a rather stubborn blob of porridge still stuck there. He casually took out his wand from his inside pocket and vanished the offending blob. Ginny pretended not to notice although she had looked at him as he’d taken his wand out. He rolled up the scroll and placed it with the others in the bag at his feet, then tried to enjoy his porridge. He was stopped from eating more than a few mouthfuls by the post bell ringing.

They had been forced to install a drop-off point for owls due to the volume of mail they received, although they had few neighbours, it was always best to be cautious. It was kind of like a letterbox for owls on their roof, along with a small roost for owls to take a rest if they needed it. He gathered up the stack of letters from the collection point in their shared office and brought them back into the kitchen. He put them on the table and started sorting them into his and hers. “Oh look, daddy,” James exclaimed pointing to one of the letters. “That one has a sticker with a face on it, but it’s not moving.” He looked curiously at his parents. Harry leaned over and picked it up. The letter had a Muggle stamp in the corner and was addressed simply to Mr. Harry Potter in a very neat script. His curiosity peaked, he opened this one first. Ginny tsked at him slightly for opening it without doing any safety checks first, but he knew that any jinxed letter would not get through the charms he had placed upon the owl shoot. When he finished reading it he handed it to her without speaking.

Dear Mr. Harry Potter

I hope you and your family are well. My name is Camilla Winters and I met your godson, Teddy on the train to Hogwarts. He was very kind to me and we are friends now, but I’m very worried about him as he keeps searching the castle for a portrait of his mother.

I feel terrible as it’s my fault this happened, I gave him a message from a portrait of a woman with pink hair that looked like him. She told me she had promised not to distract him from his lessons and that’s why she is hiding now I think. I wish I hadn’t told him the message as he has been so sad and distracted ever since. Please don’t let him know it was me that told you, when I suggested asking a teacher where her portrait was he got a little angry with me and told me to drop it.

I hope this gets to you. I’ve never used an owl before I added a stamp just in case. A fourth-year assured me all I needed was a name, but I didn’t tell her who I was sending it to. Teddy says you understand him because you lost your parents too. If you could let me know what I should do, I would be very grateful as I am worried the teachers are going to start noticing he’s not concentrating.

Camilla

“I thought it odd we hadn’t heard from him yet.” She mused, “just thought he was too busy having fun. This Camilla sounds like she has her head on right.” She looked at her husband knowing exactly what he was thinking about doing. “You can’t just go march up there and snap him out of it. Even if you could find an excuse to get into the school. You don’t even know what house he’s in love.” He turned to her as if to argue then thought better of it.

“I wasn’t going to go to the school.” He lied, she gave him a disbelieving snort in response. “Ok maybe I thought about it but you're right it’s not the way to go.” He noticed two out of their three children were no longer interested in breakfast. Albus was sliding a finger through the dollops that had escaped his bowl, and James was screwing his eyes up tight like when Teddy changed his appearance, then looking at his reflection in his spoon. “I’ll speak to Neville, I would have thought he would already have this sorted. I spoke to him before term started thinking this might be a problem.”

“Neville can only do so much, especially if Teddy isn’t in his house. He has to let that teacher sort it out.” She lifted lily out of her high chair and placed her on the floor next to her building blocks. “I’m seeing Andromeda today. I'll ask if Teddy has mentioned this to her.” She cleared the table and cleaned it with a couple of swift flicks of her wand. Albus looked up slightly disappointed that his drawing material had vanished. “Mum’s coming to take the boys for the day, and Lily needs shoes now she’s walking.” She reminded him, he hadn’t forgotten, but she liked reminding him and he nodded and gave both the boys a kiss on the head and a murmur to behave as he walked back into their study, taking the pile of his letters with him.

The room was spacious for a study, big enough to comfortably fit two desks and a studded leather sofa and still not feel cluttered. Apart from his desk, that always looked cluttered.

“Sirius.” He said to the portrait of his godfather that hung on the wall while placing Ginny’s post on her tidy desk. The image of Sirius used to make the picture had been taken the day of Harry’s parents wedding, before Azkaban had drained him of his vitality, handsome and often smiling with long black hair. He appeared to be at his ease, lounging in an armchair one leg hooked over the side, eyes half closed, but at the sound of his name he sat up straight and alert . “Can you go to Hogwarts and tell Professor Longbottom I would like to speak to him if he is free for lunch. I will most likely be at my work before you return. I will make sure I can speak to you there.”

“My pleasure to help,” he said and walked to the edge of his frame and disappeared. The couple in the other picture just smiled serenely down at him while he rummaged around in his desk. Ginny walked in with Lily on her hip while he was still searching.

“That’s the boys at mums.” She glanced at the empty frame but said nothing about it. “Are you working from home today?” He shook his head, continuing to search. “If you organised, and took the files you no longer need back to work, you might have a better chance of finding things.” She said it in a very patient tone like she had said it many times before, she turned to their daughter who was trying to stuff her fist in her mouth. “Is daddy a messy boy!” She said in a silly voice smiling and making a face, Lily giggled, brown eyes sparkling. Harry made a noise at his wife but knew she was right, he needed to find time to clear out his desk.

“If you are out as well today then I won’t be home for lunch. I will do my best to be home for dinner.” Finding what he was looking for he slipped it into his pocket, then came over and blew a few raspberries on his daughters neck and planted a few kisses on her cheek, she giggled even more slapping a hand against his cheek. He turned and gave his wife a kiss wrapping an arm around her briefly whispering “love you” into her neck, before grabbing his bag and walking to the door and apparating to work.

When Harry arrived at the atrium he kept his eyes forward deliberately not paying attention to anyone else who might try to catch his eye. He did it without even thinking about it anymore.

“Morning boss.” The young Auror who had been standing leaning against the memorial fountain looking completely at ease, joined in step with him as he made his way towards the lifts. The brisk pace did nothing to stop his swagger.

“Morning Caldwell.” He acknowledged his companion. Now that he was with company he started scanning the various wizards moving about the atrium. The busy morning rush had now passed and there were only a few stragglers like himself. Owen Caldwell might act like a bit of an arrogant sod but he was a very good guard dog, and a very good Auror, he had taken very well to the lesson that confidence breeds confidence. Harry was much less likely to be intercepted on his way into the office when he was seen talking to someone else. He used to take the time to speak to people when he came into work until he realised it was taking him longer and longer to actually get to his desk. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help, the problem was that people would want him to deal with every issue the ministry dealt with, regardless of who they were supposed to report to. He had never asked them to do it but one morning he started being met by someone from headquarters in the atrium, and all of a sudden he got to his desk before noon. “Has anyone at Bodmin made it in for the scheduled update yet?” The easy smile on Owens’s face faulted for a moment as he replied.

“Not yet boss no, and it’s getting pretty close to the deadline. Maybe we should send someone to check?” He meant himself, rumours were he was getting quite close to one of the agents currently out on mission. Harry knew how reckless people could become when they are trying to save those they love. He was a prime example of that, he shook his head.

“The reason why we have 24 hours to check in is because, as you very well know, you can’t always just pop back here and say hi.” There were a few people standing waiting when they got to the lifts so they ended the conversation. He recognised one as his brother in law Percy who looked to be deep in discussions with a witch he didn’t know. They nodded to each other in greeting but Percy didn’t stop to talk to him or slow down his conversation. Harry tried not to listen, knowing Percy it would be about something very important to him, and incredibly dull to anyone else. When they stepped into the lift Harry noticed there were already a handful of memos flying in lazy circles above his head. One of them dropped down and started to gently bump him on the side of the head. Taking the memo he put it in his pocket without reading. He knew who it would be from, no one else’s memos came to him directly.

The Auror office was the usual bustling place, memos zoomed about like they were supercharged a few Aurors stood chatting over the top of their cubicles. Nobody took much notice of him walking in. He would say there were still a lot more of his staff who were older than him, but his youth had never been a problem, there were far fewer now that were more experienced than him. The problem had been filling the spaces left by the devastation after the war, not everyone was suited to being an Auror, even those that thought they wanted it didn’t always after a few harsh reality checks. And Harry refused to let anyone qualify that wasn’t up to standard, even before he was made head of the department, standards had been improved when he was placed in charge of selection and training. Finally the Auror office was back to the strength it had been before Voldermort’s resurrection, still not at full strength in his eyes but the foundations were strong.

“Get everyone who’s working on the Bodmin case in the conference room in fifteen minutes. I have to take care of a few things first. I'll meet you there.” Owen wandered off then with a loud “you got it boss” Harry, his mind already back on Teddy didn’t respond. When Harry entered his office he was pleased nobody was waiting for him, he took the small picture frame he had been searching for in his desk at home and placed it on his desk, along with the memo he had nearly forgotten about. Sighing, he opened it.

Harry

Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you are avoiding me! I really need to speak to you about Kreacher. It's very important and I’m not going to take no or silence for an answer. If I have to I will bring it up out of work but neither of us want that as it’s a delicate matter. It’s nothing to worry about either.

Hermione

He ran a hand through his hair and decided that although Hermione wasn’t a high priority he couldn’t keep putting her off, he had a rough idea what it was about. He was about to reply to her when Sirius’ face turned up in the frame.

“Professor Longbottom says he will be at the three broomsticks for lunch today and he is going to bring Professor Mcallister along too.”

“Did he say why he’s bringing him?” Harry didn’t really know the charms Professor, he had only met him the handful of times he and Ginny had gone to the annual memorial service. Then he answered his own question “He is head of Teddy’s house isn’t he?” Harry shook his head and knew he wasn’t going to get anymore from the painting. He looked back down at the memo from Hermione and decided now would be as good a time as any to go see his boss.

Her office wasn’t that far away from his. Magical law enforcement was a big department and they pretty much had this entire floor. He knew the Bodmin meeting would be waiting for him soon, but he also hoped that it would give him an excuse to get away from Hermione if he needed one.

She was standing outside her office when he arrived talking with her assistant. He was pleased he wouldn’t have to argue about making appointments with the assistant once again. That reminded Harry he needed to do something about finding a temp replacement for his own assistant, who had gone on maternity.

Hermione smiled at him when she saw him approach. “Well I’m glad my last memo finally did the trick, come and take a seat.”

“Will this take long? Only I have a mission briefing starting in about…”

“It’s alright this won't take long your department can manage without you for a moment. She lifted a scroll from a pigeon hole behind her and handed it to him.

“What’s this?” he asked, feeling the weight of it.

“Read it and see”

“I’d rather you gave me the abbreviated highlights,” he complained, opening it and sitting down, the scroll unfurled and rolled along the ground stopping only when it bumped against Hermione’s desk.

“It’s Kreacher’s will.” She explained sitting down herself with another stack of papers.

“He made a will?” Harry was surprised, Kreacher hadn’t had a great deal of possessions; those he did had been mainly forced on him by Harry and the kids giving him presents every christmas. He had received the letter about a month earlier telling him the ancient Elf had finally passed away peacefully. The truth was Harry had no idea how long Elves normally lived, he knew Dobby was still fit and well and living at Hogwarts, Harry made sure to send him socks every year. “Anything he left us can be sent to the house ill make arrangements from there,”

“It’s not as simple as that,” she went on quickly realising that he was about to leave. “Kreacher made some arrangements in his will for his Legacy care to be passed on.”

Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes at her, “Meaning?”

“You are getting a new house elf.”

“What?”

“It will take some time. The elves themselves sort this kind of thing out. Kreacher was part of a quite expansive family line, but all are already with households as far as I’ve been informed.”

“I thought it was one of your missions to stop elf slavery, and them being treated like property.”

Hermione sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “It is something I am still working on, and things have improved greatly, but the elves themselves are very proud of their service and you can’t change their minds over centuries of traditions overnight. Elves are in a better position than they were, they have recognised rights to fair treatment, holidays and living conditions, they are allowed to report their family of any wrongdoing within it without punishment. A basic right to me but scandalous to nearly all the elves i have spoken to about this. But anyway I digress. Expect yourself to have an elf living in your home very soon.

“I’m not sure how Ginny is going to take that.”

“Better you tell her quick before one turns up”

“Anything else?” He rolled up the scroll as he stood up to go.

“No, I think that’s everything. I'll see you at dinner on Sunday?”

“Barring a catastrophe, we’ll be there.”

Very little had changed in hogsmeade over the years since Harry was at school. It had survived relatively uncathed from the devastation during the battle of Hogwarts. The small village was sunlight when Harry apparated at the small square with it’s equally discreet memorial stone. Harry paused a moment and refreshed the wreath of snow white Lilies that was laid against it.

It was not a long walk over to the three broomsticks but still Harry was greeted by a few people as he made his way along the cobbled street. None of them looked familiar to him so he didn’t stop, just nodded his head politely and moved on.

Harry spotted his old friend immediately as he entered the cosy pub. He was sitting at a table away from the bar with the enormous frame of Professor Mcallister. They both stood to greet him as he approached. Neville and Harry shoulder bumped as they shook hands and slapped each other on the back in a very well practiced way. When Harry offered his hand to the other man it was enveloped by two large and surprisingly powerful hands. “Nice to see you again professor.” Harry greeted.

“Bartemius, please call me Bartemius.” They all sat down and Madame Rosemerta came over to take their food order bringing Harry a butterbeer without having to be told, she squeezed his shoulder as she left. “So I take it you are here to talk about Ted Lupin?” Mcallister began without prompting. “I was hoping this would be sorted without you having to be told.”

“His friend wrote to me. Camilla?” Mcallister smiled as Harry fished the letter from his pocket.

“Ah yes she’s a bright young witch. So sad about her own past, I had a feeling they would be drawn to each other, especially as they have been sorted into the same house. I do wish she had come to me, but now I see the reason why she hasn’t.” Neville took the letter once Mcallister had finished with it and scanned it quickly. “The portraits of Dora and Remus Lupin are in locations that Teddy doesn’t have access to. We were prepared to move Professor Lupin's portrait if he had been sorted into Gryffindor.” Mcallister added in a tone that said he thought it was highly doubtful. “All the portraits of those who died in the war hold very little of the true selves, although I think some of the students have been teaching them their history. I am surprised to read that the portrait felt strongly enough to send him a message.”

“The photograph used by the artist was the one taken with Teddy in her arms, the maternal bond must have been transferred through.” Harry explained, he had become quite knowledgeable on this subject over the years. Neville leaned back in his chair taking a long dink from his cup.

“The students teach them all sorts of things.” He said with a slight smirk, then continued more seriously “It’s always a disappointment to find out it’s not truly them. Professor Lupin’s picture knows loads about defensive spells and the correct way to deal with various dangerous creatures, but ask him about his wedding, or his friendships in school and the answers dry up.”

“Probably for the best he doesn’t know much about the marauders, from what I’ve heard of them they were quite a handful” Mcallister chuckled then seemed to realise whos company he was in, “No offence Harry.”

“None taken I assure you.” Harry knew all too well that disappointment. He had thought, like so many others did, that all portraits were as true a representation of their living selves as the old headmasters portraits were. It had only been when he had been fighting to get Severus Snape’s portrait hung as a rightful former headmaster, that he had found the truth, that it took years of the former headmasters teaching their hidden image everything they could, as Severus had only been headmaster a year he had not had the time to impart much of his knowledge. The more the artist drawing the picture knew of the model also helped. Harry squashed down his mild irritation at the memory.

“My godson is stubborn, and keeping him from these pictures is not going to make him any less determined.” He thought for a moment. “Could you move them to a place he does have access to, so he can speak with them privately?” He looked at their faces and they nodded. “I doubt it will take more than a couple of hours this weekend for him to realise that it’s not truly them, but if it does take him longer we can tell him he can only visit that room at the weekends, and keep it locked the rest of the time?”

“That shouldn’t be too difficult to do. Dora's picture is currently in the staff room. Remus’ in the Gryffindor common room. Some students might comment on its removal but pictures wander all the time and we could just put a blank canvas. The last few years have had smaller intakes, this is the smallest group in my time at the school.”

“There will probably be an upswing next year,” Harry added with a smirk taking a swig of the beer he then asked. “So what have the students been teaching the pictures?”

#teddy lupin #hinny #married with kids hinny #auror potter #not a romance story #hogwarts mystery #original female character #mysterious past #tj writes #teddy school days

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namjoonchronicles · 5 years

Text

beautiful, tragic | yoongi

✿ pairing: yoongi x you ✿ genre: domestic, yoongi as a husband, fluff, suggestive content, slight smut ✿ words: 4k ✿ summary: it’s hard sharing your musically talented husband with the world, and this is your story.

Stay home. He says. Watch the house. He says.

You’re stuck, scrolling idly on your phone with your drama on Netflix long abandoned on your 85” Sony LED Screen, equipped with the sound system that would surpass Dolby Surround System if it ever went on competition with each other.

Apart from the boring international celeb news, who broke up and who got divorced, the politic scene is too awry for you to read and you were not prepared for that headache so early in the day. One particular headline caught your attention, though.

Billboard Judge, Music Producer Min Yoongi Purchases USD$3M UN Village Villa In Cash.

Excuse me, what?

Screenshot. Clicking the home button on your phone, you tapped on Kakao Talk app next and ignored the messages from your ex-classmates group that has mounted to 120 unread texts and straight to ‘Fish’ ID.

You had sent him the screenshot of the news clipping, and proceed to multi-text him the following:

????????? Why wasn’t I informed?? Yoongi. What did I tell you about purchasing things without a proper discussion? Behind my back?? The nerve?? Bitch, square up when you get home. I also have watched five episodes without you. Fuck you.

Delivered. The anger had made you toss your phone to the side on the couch. This stupid huge ass house he is never in. You grind your jaws, glaring at your wedding picture on the top corner of your wall. And he dares to buy another one. You can hear him whispering a silent fuck from the distant. Fuck--is quite right, Yoongi. Your phone dings a new message in less than twenty minutes. He had machine-gunned you with replies that your phone had trouble keeping up with. You crossed your arm, scoffing at the sight of his name blinking on your screen. Oh, now you want to call me.

Volume : 70%, 75%, 85%. Netflix show has dimmed the sound of his calls and desperate texts.

He just never learns, does he? You’re starting to feel like he feeds on these little arguments like ginseng soup--has to have it when he’s unwell or deprived of something. Now that’s something you didn’t share with him. Yoongi’s work prevents him to be home as often as he’d like, requires him to befriend sketchy men and women with hidden agendas, they also constantly separate you and him--all this, you know and understood from the beginning. But like flying kites, when kites with strings tend to stray too far, and stretched too long, it snaps. Especially when you’re the one at the end of the string, holding him down to earth with a promise of a golden ring, always the one waiting for his return. When the blizzards come, the storm arrives, you gripped tighter, but there’s no guarantee that he felt the tug even if he should.

Here lies his expertise on words. Here lies the test of loyalty. Here lie your trust and his devotion. Love is a gamble, isn’t it?

It was supposed to be a surprise :( I wanted to take you there when I come home, but the news spoiled it :( :( Good news is, it’s not fully furnished and we can go furniture shopping… I know you love decorating the house :) I’ll forgive you if you watch the same 5 episodes with me later Babe? :( :( You’re still fetching me at the airport right? Right, sweetie?

He sends a screenshot of his expected arrival time, and you skimmed pass the message with a blank look. You tap the camera icon and took a selfie of your middle finger.

Fish was immediately typing…

OK, but it’s difficult with jeans on.

You gawked as you realized that he was talking about fingering you. You snarled against the screen and tapped video call button.

But it was declined. And he replied immediately.

Can’t. In a crash meeting with the staff.

You put your phone close to your lips and tapped voice recording icon. And Yoongi knows better than to play it in the midst of a meeting. You’re roasting him and for that, he’ll keep for his lullaby on the way to the airport later with his good headphones on. He gave a goofy smile on the screen when you replied with middle-finger emoticons. “God, I love her…” he stares fondly at your ID.

Flight JN1741 from Amsterdam arrives at Incheon International Airport on 2:00 PM. Passengers begin to rise from their seat before the ‘fasten-your-seatbelt’ sign was turned off. Already, Yoongi’s massive entourage are receiving calls within the moving but landed airplane. His staff is dependable but workaholics, like he is. He was just worried that his wife won’t show up because she’s mad. But he’s also certain that she will be there at the arrival. He likes that you make him nervous this way. He likes that he could mean everything to the world, and has his words as law to others, but won’t necessarily have the same effect on you. He loves the fact that you keep him on his toes and make him chase. He also loves the fact that he knows you’ll be waiting at home where he left you as he works.

Loving and having are different things.

Yoongi of all people knows the constraints of having a serious relationship in his hectic life will be hard to manage. When he couldn’t meet his lady love, he relies heavily on her profound loyalty and his blinded trust. God knows that both of you tried. Both of you really tried to keep the passion alive, never to fizzle out. But distance could make or break a relationship--and Yoongi really wanted this. This battleground he chose to live in. He was lucky to have the best of both worlds. Most couldn’t experience that. To him, the game is only over when the other stops playing.

A conversation is a conversation, even if its a fight.

He refastens his black facemask, his black hoodie and stood up as the manager asks him whether he needs a ride home or not. The 40-year-old man walks away once Yoongi said that his wife is fetching him.

“Also, hyung...can you bring the iKey to the Apple Store I bought it in? It had malfunctioned again. I left the warranty card inside the pack,” Yoongi politely asked. “Every single time we leave Amsterdam… Yoongi what did you do with it?” The manager pulls the bag out the compartment above the head. “Work I guess…” Yoongi shrugged and fiddled with the straps of his black backpack.

Most of the passengers had left the airplane. But before Yoongi leaves with his manager, something metallic clinked on his sneakers. His manager crouched down before he did and picked the object up.

“Can’t forget the ring when you’re meeting the wife...take it from me,” his manager returns Yoongi’s ring to him. “It keeps slipping out my finger, I think I’m losing too much weight,” Yoongi chuckled short and put them back on with a small wiggle. “VIP arrivals that way…” His manager pointed the way out, “Tell her we missed her around.”

Yoongi nodded, feeling rather bashful and shy. That’s right. You used to work in his entourage as medical staff. Until he had you hitched and away from the stressful job that costs you your mental health. Now, you review staffs’ health records from home and frequently, his. You fell sick prior to the world tour he led, so that’s why he had you staying home. Not that you tailed him often when he works. He just prefers you doing your own thing. His work requires a lot of movement while you had to be static in one place to finish your writing or reading. You were that hot white coat bearer with a sexy full-rimmed glasses and spoke medicine parseltongue. Every time you share a piece of medical knowledge with him or explain a medical condition, Yoongi drools like a lovesick puppy dog inwardly. He can’t wait to have you explain liver cirrhosis everytime he brings up how much he drank when he was away. That was his version of dirty talk.

But where’s my lady love? Yoongi hums. Scanning the room for any glimpse of you. Could you be standing nearby a coffee vending machine, or would you be in convenient stores searching for a mint? Or are you strolling idly in the expanse of the airport in slow, relaxed strides?

No, you’re walking straight towards him with your arms crossed from the entrance, your hair flew back at every trudge you make to close the distance between him and you. He fumbles with the strap of his bag, and a bit slouched to the side. Having to push his head back to see your face from the beak of his black cap and hoodie, while you draw in, closer and closer.

Your hand came in contact with his at the handle of his roller bag first, before you leaned up to his ear and he lowered himself down, “You and I have a lot of things to talk about.” You snatched the roller bag from his grip roughly and Yoongi watched your back getting smaller and smaller as you stormed away. He pouts at the sight and gripping his bag strap tighter, firmer. You passed an acid glance once and expect him to follow closely with a glare. Yoongi’s pouty lips slowly form a smirk and a naughty cock of his eyebrow. He really enjoys it when you’re angry.

The trunk opens with a hydraulic rise, and he helped you carry his own bag inside. It slammed shut and you dashed to the driver seat, knowing that he is often exhausted after a long flight. Engine purrs on, and your focus was interrupted by the sound of his seatbelt clicking. He’s here. He’s really home.

“Do you want to eat anything? Some fast food or anything like that?” You asked. “Yeah, but she’s driving…” He glanced outside the car window like he had said nothing explicit.

“Ha, very funny…” the car reversed and exited the parking lot with no hiccups, but the situation isn’t going to be smooth on the inside, “Don’t think that snarky remarks will get you anywhere near this coochie.”

Yoongi let out a tiny scoff to the window, shifting in his seat as the view of the city he calls home, come to sight. Miraculously, he has made it home within a month. Although the reunion was bittersweet and that he landed on soil knowing that you’re mad at him, he is well-informed by your passive behavior when you missed him the most. That much is true. And it needs no extra explanation.

How was Amsterdam?

“Cold. Great sound system… decent steak,” he answered. You smiled to yourself, noticing how much you missed his aloof response. Few words, big heart. That’s Min Yoongi for you.

“I think I made a great steak a few days ago…” you took the chance to brag on yourself and Yoongi switches to the side where you sat driving. Hands between his knees, eyes doe and soft.

“Tell me more about what you did…” he said, in a gentle voice.

“Nothing much. I proofread a medical article, cooked for myself, write a bit, stare at the 2 selfies you took last two years. Sniff your hoodie, organize your shoe collection, vacuum GeniusLab2, visit Holly at your parents. I made him this cute ass leash that I knitted on my own. He had stomach flu, so I took him to the vets. He’s okay now, though.”

“I wanted to video call more, but I didn’t have the time…” Yoongi complaints.

“You don’t remember?” You crumpled your face at the road before glancing briefly at him. You could see Yoongi’s confused expression. Head tilted to the side, his mouth opens and closes several times without a word uttered out. He really didn’t remember.

“Baby bear, you called me twice in a drowsy state…” you offered a line of explanation but the contortion on his face suggests that he requires more, “You drunk video call me to tell me you had a sandwich and fell asleep before you could tell me what was inside… Three days after that, you called me again but you were already snoring when I answered.”

“I don’t recall…” he hums.

“Anyways, whatever… that’s cute though. Also, this 3 million villa you bought, what’s the story?” you snapped, at the same time, you turn at the corner of the city smoothly.

“It’s not a penthouse like you said I shouldn’t get, so technically, I didn’t go against your words,” he sang. “How on earth did you carry 3 million in cash?” You scowled. “With many briefcases,” he retorted with a thin smile.

You pressed your lips together to stop yourself from laughing because you wanted to be focused on being serious and mature. But the quick reply had you snickering. Such a matter-of-fact answer. His face lights up at your response.

“You said that we’re going to furniture shopping. Do you even have time to do that?” you stopped at the security cottage and flashed your residence card on the pad the divider retracts open.

“I knew you were going to make a dispute out of it. So I made sure Namjoon allows it,” Yoongi laced his fingers together, and made a dark chuckling sound.

“What did you do to him this time…” you felt uneasy already. The last time he wanted a day off, Yoongi hid Namjoon’s passport so the trip could be delayed for a day or two. He purchased a movie on Netflix and wanted to watch it with you.

He simply gave you that creepy smile and you already know.

“You put laxatives in his drinks, my god.” “It is my most brilliant plan of all.” “Yoongi!” “What...he said he was constipating. I am doing him a favor.”

Why wouldn’t he constipate from the amount of caffeine he had been consuming. You thought.

Everyone’s definition of success is different. Everyone’s definition of married life is also different. The married life you shared with Yoongi was entirely on a different level. There are no guidelines for marrying a music producer this world famous. So you focused on being a wife. If everything else in his life isn’t normal, then being married is.

The moment he steps inside the home he shared with you, you noticed he stifled a yawn. His eyes falling droopy at the sight of his long sought after nest.

“I’m going to get a late lunch going, and you can go lay down on the bed in your indoor clothes…” “No, I want to help in the kitchen…” “Look at your eyes, they’re barely open… go rest.”

But he wanted to unpack because he got you something.

“It’s a cross-stitch table runner…” he lays his head on his palm, curled on his side, watching your big grin as you unravel the precious gift. He remembered that you wanted to buy this the last time you were there. He got the correct design and correct color too.

“You got them custom-made,” you gasped excitedly, and then shrink your voice at him, “Thank you...it’s so pretty.” Pulling the runner into a hug while Yoongi chuckles sleepily.

Yoongi was less interested in his stories and more engaged in yours. All his relatives that he can call strangers because they rarely meet, his family members that have seen you more than they’ve seen him. He silently is grateful for you being here, being the glue between his family and close friends, an invincible knot that keeps him grounded and gave him the sense of belonging.

He drifts mid-through your stories and latest gossip. As you sat on the floor next to the bed, unpacking his luggage one-by-one, you no longer hear his response. You glanced to the side and saw him sleeping soundly. You could only imagine how many hours he could when he’s away in a foreign country. Yoongi somehow can appear to be sleeping but is in fact, listening to all the conversations surrounding him. You and he share that talent. But this time, he slept for real--the energy replenishing, body rejuvenating sleep. There’s soft snorings and little shudders from time to time. Your gaze fell from his fringes to his brows, down the slope of his nose and his doll-like lips.

Last clothing to be unpack looked familiar. It was yours. That’s endearing. He always packs one clothing that belonged to you. You know, for when he ‘misses his wife so much he could die’ moments. You don’t know when he snuck them in, but it’s probably when you’re busy at the living room, or the bathroom, making sure he didn’t forget anything. The luggage is taken away from the bedroom and into his home studio, where it stays until its service is required again--which you suspect, won’t be long.

You slid the blanket above his shoulder, and tuck him in like you would a child. He looks so tired and it breaks your heart that he has to leave again. It’s like a cycle. At least you can see him eat today, with your own eyes, so let’s get started with the lunch.

Nothing extravagant. Just broiled spinach, fermented white baby radish from last week, and warm chicken soup with ginseng to help him re-energized. But he isn’t awake yet. That’s alright, you can reheat everything when he’s up. He still needs his much-acquired sleep. With that thought, you disappear into the bathroom and undressed. Sweating from cooking, body sticky with remnants of watery expels urged you to shower before the sun is completely down. You don’t usually shower this early, but with Yoongi around, you felt self-conscious. He doesn’t know this, but you will always want to smell nice for him. Isn’t that the very core of being a wife? Being extra hygienic for the hubby? To keep him interested? Especially Yoongi, because he is constantly away and accompanied by many attractive females?

You discarded the dampened shirt outside the door of the bathroom and swung it shut as gently as you can. Off goes the bra, then the panties. The shower head expels drizzling liquid, the steam floats up to the ceiling and the glass door get fogged up from the heat. Water pools at your feet as you readied your face underneath the shower to come into contact with the sprinkles. The pleasure of a simple shower after a good sweat is ultimately unmatched.

So endorsed in your time alone, Yoongi pushes the door wider. He had come awake when he heard you turned the knob shut. He discarded his pants on the way, and pulled his black shirt over his head, charging forward like a soldier on his way to a battleground he intends to win. Then he discarded his last piece of clothing, his boxers. Afterward, he trudges into the shower cubicle where you were standing, facing away from him. “You thought I was too tired for a shower session with you?” His voice deeps lower than usual, as he snakes one arm around your naked waist, skin to skin, Yoongi sunk his teeth on your shoulder and you turned around wearing a big smile to greet him. “No I thought you wouldn’t be able to handle any sessions with me…” you smartly replied. Yoongi smiled into the kiss that began innocently enough and gradually increase in intensity and power as the seconds passed. Your arms slick against his shoulder as he held on palm flat on the walls of the shower, he stands directly underneath the shower head now--refusing to let go of your lips even when you tap out for a breath. A seasoned rapper’s lung capacity isn’t a shy away from a Navy diver. Provided with the long abstinence and accumulating want, Yoongi isn’t just going to stop here in the shower, best believe, he is going to continue making love to you in all the rooms available in this house until he’s finally sated.

His handprints on the fogged glass door is significantly larger than yours. The slippery sound of sliding skin filled your ears, and your strangled moans could only suggest an impending euphoric sensation you had longed for, since the last time he’s here. And Yoongi is a determined soul. The thrusts are languid and deep. From the way he buried his face in the crook of your neck, eliciting heavy desperate pants implies that he had been imagining this on his lonely nights for too long. His touches were too precise and calculated, coming from a veteran lover who knows his wife’s body like the back of his hand. Yoongi’s glazed orbs that greeted you in the midst of the steamy love-making, felt foreign yet familiar. But his lips that conquered yours right after the heaty glance was definitely, without a doubt, Yoongi’s. The time apart had made him a stranger to your body, and the passion that almost fizzled out from the distance had reignited to another degree.

“Fuck I miss you,” he breathlessly says against your ear. You didn’t stutter or faltered back into the lust like you used to when you first dated him. Instead, you smiled into his confessions and bit your grin--no longer shy to show how much you love having these moments with him. More, you encouraged him with your touches and sweet mewls.

I like the whispers you added at the end. She says.

No matter what the public critic might say, Yoongi’s only verdict comes from his wife. His true achievements and outcomes of his work rely heavily on what you may say. But your words can be sarcastic and Yoongi doesn’t like having to guess what you truly meant.

“You always say something like that…” “I don’t know what you want me to say,” you shrugged as you scooped out a bowl of rice for him, “I like the whisper part and that’s the truth.” “How many times did you listen to it… be honest,” Yoongi took his bowl from you.

You tipped your eyes up to the ceiling and clicked your tongue. Somehow Yoongi caught the expression.

“Are you serious…” he began, eyes following you as you pulled the chair next to him out, “Okay, fine. Do you listen more of Jimin’s Promise or my collab song?”

You added a long hum, not intending to give him the answer he wants to hear. “Technically, Jimin’s Promise came out first--”

“--don’t talk to me,” he darted.

Instinctively, you covered his knee with one palm, to soothe him. But of course, Yoongi wouldn’t let you console him that quickly.

“I spent nights writing that song while touring… Am I asking too much of you, to just listen to me more than you do Jimin’s, but no. Ultimately, I’m always the second choice for the industry AND my wife. Fine, I don’t care...I don’t want to care anymore. I worked so hard to earn money for you to spend, and all I’m requesting is that you be my harsh critic but you’re apparently too busy to listen to my songs. Hmm, I see how it is.”

“To even things out, you never told me you’re releasing a song…” you shrugged.

Yoongi set his chopstick down, clinking while you continued eating.

“To top it all, you watched dramas without me,” he tipped a glass of water into his mouth like he would a cup of soju, “Our drama.”

You knew he is just picking fights with you because to him, a fight is also a conversation.

“Gosh Alexa, this is so sad, play Seesaw,” you exclaimed with a forlorn sigh, “What do you propose I do? Wait for you until you come back? The second season would have begun by the time you returned, Yoongi… You have cities to tour, fans to meet and stages to check, and what about me? I have this house, Netflix and the chili plant outside. You’re being a little mean to me right now… my priorities aren’t always you, you know.”

Yoongi was deafened by the last sentence you said, that he couldn’t hear the rest of the off-topic conversations you promptly added after it. You didn’t seem to notice that you’ve hurt him. That’s the inspiration behind his rap verse ‘my razor tongue wife with a stone in her hand’. He likes that you’re honest and has trained you to be tougher, but the blade he sharpens strikes him once in a while when needed. He doesn’t apologize, he makes amends with his actions. He tries to be ultimately present when he’s here. When he’s home.

Like now, he sat on the floor, with a writing pad while you washed dishes.

“Turmeric powder. Can you check if it’s on the grocery list?” You raised your voice a little so he could hear from the living room. He puffed his cheeks with his cap turned backward, scanning down the awfully long list of things you needed to get for the family dinner this weekend.

“Nope,” he writes them scraggly underneath your neat writing. Then he heard you listed a number of things and gifts you planned to get before the weekend comes. Presents for your parents, and his; his nephews, his older brother’s birthday that he himself didn’t remember, a flower bouquet for his aunt who just opened a restaurant. He made a mental note to transfer a large amount of money into your account later.

“Is the villa far from here?” you asked him, wiping your kitchen stove down, spotless. “Not very… you’ll see when you drive there later,” Yoongi murmured to his chest, filling colors on the heart he drew on the grocery list, next to “Yoongi’s wife grocery list”.

“Also, I wanted to get grilled beef slices in that restaurant…” Yoongi promised to take you to the restaurant you had been wanting to go to, in two days time. Until a message from his manager came.

“...it would taste so damn good…” your mouth waters at the thought of it but when you looked across the counter at Yoongi perplexed gaze sitting on the floor there in the living room, you somehow caught what he didn’t, or rather--couldn’t say. That look could only mean one thing.

That the luggage you pushed into his studio is going to get another traveling sticker. That the restaurant trip is not going to happen. That you will be strolling aimlessly in this huge house. That you will be visiting the villa he bought alone. That your wedding picture and ring will be the only proof that you’re somehow married.

To the worldly loved, worldly known...the beautiful tragic, Min Yoongi.

Because he couldn’t keep his promise, you had him doing something similar to it. Peeking at his bobbing head, through your iPad playing Candy Crush, you smiled to yourself.

“Make sure you get all my toenails trimmed and neatened,” Yoongi lifts his head up short, sitting on the floor, with your heel digging onto his thigh as he nodded. “What color do you want for the polish?” He asked, getting cross-eyed as he hones the sharp edges of your nail, shorter.

“Your hair color right now…” “Babe, this is out of context…but” he dragged, “remember the voice note you sent me during the crash meeting with the staff?”

“The one I cursed at you? Yeah...why?” “It turns me on,” He hides his smile by lowering his face from you. What a strange yet tantalizing thought.

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jyokerproject · 4 years

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Lockdown Day 21 04/13/2020 Chaos. That's it. Send tumblr. When I set out to do this, it was about finding the silver lining in these pandemic times. But after 21 days, we're still locked down (for good reason) and this project has only gotten tedious and, dare I say it, monotonous. Lord knows we all need a little less monotony, now more than ever. So even though we haven't been delivered from this nightmarish hell, I'm not going to be drawing the same picture of my dog EVERY DAY. Maybe every other day, maybe twice a week, idk I'm just trying to stay sane now.

#jyokerproject #drawing the same picture of my dog every day until we are delivered from this nightmarish hell #day 21 #lockdown 101 #coviDONE #grateful for doggos #chaos #monotony #illustration #patterns

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takingcourage · 5 years

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Additions: Part 5

Pairing: Jaime x MC

Word Count: 3,600

Summary: The adoption is finalized and everything seems to be settling into place, but what surprises wait in the new year?

February, 2028

The studio feels quiet.

Even as the thought crossed her mind, Arden knew today wasn’t any different from the usual.

There was the ordinary hubbub as their team of writers chatted through overnight developments and new stories that had broken since their broadcast the day before. In the distance, Ellen was delivering a stern warning to one of the interns -- probably another reminder not to turn in work without proofreading. Errors had been running rampant over the past two weeks.

Arden sat up just a bit straighter in her chair as the coffeemaker beeped from the next room over. Her on-air coffee never tasted anywhere near as good as the first cup of the day, but she craved it all the same.

Feeling Maggie’s brush strokes slow, she questioned when it was that the bustling studio had started to feel so calm. Probably around June of last year, she considered, allowing herself to relax back into the seat.

After the unpredictability of their household, work had become comparatively tame. At home, there were always footsteps rushing up and down the staircase or the strains of Sophia’s flute drifting through the house at odd intervals. Then there were Will’s uninhibited concerts in the shower, Opie’s claws tapping across the hardwood floors as he tried to keep up with all of the action, the quiet, unsteady rhythm of Alex sketching pictures on every scrap of paper he could find...

It was a special brand of mayhem that only families with three children could understand: families like theirs.

“Good day yesterday?”

Arden opened both eyes to see Maggie’s knowing smile. Noting the tiny brush in the other woman’s hand, she pressed them shut just as quickly. “It was wonderful. When you’re done, I’ll show you some pictures.”

Maggie started on her eyeliner. “I’d love to see them! That Will is such a cutie. I think we really hit it off when you brought him into the studio last week...You all must be so excited.”

“We are,” she confirmed, holding off her instinctive smile so the muscles of her face could remain as stable as possible.

When her makeup was finished, Arden swiped through the images on her phone before settling on the one lucky shot where no one had blinked or forgotten to smile. She and Jaime stood on the steps of the courthouse, Sophia and Alex leaning in from either side. Will was situated between them on the step below, back almost arched in his attempt to stand tall.

Even a day later, Arden had to check her emotions to keep Maggie’s work intact. It was incredible that she still had any tears left to cry after the waterworks that had taken place at the hearing, but she still felt the unmistakable prickle in the corners of both eyes.

“It’s the first official Lewis Family photo!”

Maggie was right. Anyone who looked at the picture would know immediately that they were a family, even with the obvious differences in appearance. Their smiles, the way that Jaime’s arm was wrapped around Alex’s waist, the confidence in Sophia’s bearing -- all spoke of the connections that had been formed over the course of the past eight months.

It was one of the most beautiful photos she’d ever seen.

Still, if she’d gone a single picture to the left, the other woman would have seen another image -- one that was equally precious in Arden’s mind.

Sometime between putting on their pajamas and brushing teeth the night before, a folded page from Alex’s sketch pad had appeared under the door to the bedroom she and Jaime shared.

The outside of the paper read simply:

To: Jaime and Arden

From: Alex

Curious, they’d unfolded the thick paper, eyes welling again at the inner contents. There had been so few times in her adult life that Arden had truly been surprised, but this discovery caught both of them off guard.

Beneath the short inscription, Thanks for taking care of us, they found a carefully arranged portrait.

People weren’t Alex’s specialty -- he’d had much more experience with drawing dragons and other supernatural beings than he had with human features. Still, it had been obvious to both of them that the five figures he’d committed to paper represented the five members of their family.

Practiced or not, it had been enough to start another round of crying. Their son’s sketch was more than just a picture of a family -- it was their family. And it was starting to feel like something close to perfect.

Fate, of course, had other plans.

_____

June, 2028

The first sign Arden noticed was an acute tenderness in her breasts. It’s nothing, she reasoned, just a sign that my period is on its way.

When a full week passed and her cycle still hadn’t arrived, she began to be concerned. Looking back, she couldn’t say with certainty that it had come the month before either. May had been busy – going to Sophia’s band concert and Alex’s fifth-grade graduation, starting Will in a summer soccer league, covering all of school-related news items that always cropped up at that time of the year...

Until now, a forgotten period had hardly merited a second thought.

She nibbled the side of her thumb and stared at the plastic stick resting on the edge of the bathroom counter. Unsure as she was about the reliability of pregnancy tests, every instinct she had told her that the little plus sign staring back at her was accurate.

It wasn’t that she and Jaime had never thought about having a baby. They’d talked about it plenty during their first years of marriage. But they hadn’t talked about it lately. Since they’d started the adoption process, the whole subject had sort of fallen off their radar.

Arden lowered her hand and pinched the test between her fingers. Holding it to the light, she fought another swell of trepidation when the intersecting lines remained unchanged.

After the intentional, very deliberate way that the other three had come into their lives, an accidental pregnancy was blindsiding. And with a soon-to-be eighth grader, sixth grader, and fourth grader, it was just about the last thing she’d expected.

A fourth child certainly hadn’t factored into the renovations they’d completed on the house little more than a year before. Or her career plans. Or the trip they’d just booked for Disney World over next year’s Spring Break.

With a mounting sense of panic, Arden wondered if a baby could really fit into their lives at all. They were a family of five.

A cold sweat broke over her forehead as she set the stick back down on the bathroom sink. Catching sight of her disheveled appearance in the mirror, she raised a shaky hand to scrape the dampening hair from her brow.

She left the room, walking halls her feet had memorized years before. As she walked, she counted every room and every door -- desperate for some forgotten space that could be repurposed as a nursery. There was none, of course.

Building projects took forever. Furnishing a nursery, sorting out things like maternity leave and childcare, getting used to the idea of starting over from scratch with a new baby -- each required the luxury of time.

A luxury they didn’t really have.

Her pulse spiked at the thought of the baby’s imminent arrival. She didn’t even know how long she’d been pregnant, but they had seven months, at most, before their world was turned upside down.

Half of her was determined to march into her office and begin shopping for baby furniture. Thankfully, the other side of her was more reasonable.

I’ve got to tell Jaime.

Last she’d known, her husband was collecting materials in the garage, hard at work on the summer project he and Alex had started the week before. In a true feat of creative genius, Jaime had turned the boy’s rough sketch into plans for an actual treehouse in their backyard. They’d been working on it almost every morning since.

As Arden passed through the lower level of the house, she heard Opie pawing at the front door. Finding the garage empty, she made her way across the yard to her husband’s workshop. The whining tablesaw confirmed their presence long before the cloud of dust that assaulted her as she stepped inside.

Neither occupant looked up at her entry, but that didn’t come as much surprise. The saw drowned out all other sound. Giving them several feet of clearance, she stood on the blank floor before them.

Jaime’s gaze flickered and he motioned for Alex to pause before handing him the next board. He finished with the piece of wood that was already on the saw, laying it aside as he allowed the noise to fade to a dull hum.

“Alex,” Arden began, speaking a few decibels louder than usual. The saw whirred to a halt. “Would you please take the dog out for me? I need to talk with your dad for a minute.”

She didn’t need her powers to know that he was counting to five and considering the consequences of refusal.

“Yeah.”

Arden wasn’t crazy about the edge in her son’s tone, but at least he hadn’t pushed the issue.

“Is everything okay?” Jaime stepped back from the machine, flipping up his safety glasses to reveal a furrowed brow.

Arden nodded, bringing the pad of her thumb to her lips and biting down on the skin slowly. She couldn’t bear to meet his eyes, afraid that the fear in her own would transfer.

This isn’t like you, Arden. Tell me what’s wrong.

She looked up from the concrete floor with resolve, but still couldn’t bring herself to go any higher than his chest. “I'm freaking out and I needed to come talk to you before it got any worse.”

“Babe,” he interrupted. He took her by the shoulders, uncertainty swiftly turning to concern as he saw the tears in her eyes. “What’s going on?”

Finally meeting his gaze, she shared the worry that was foremost in her mind. “We’re gonna have to add onto the house again.”

Jaime stared at her, aghast. For a moment, he struggled with the strange expression, fumbling for meaning beneath her vagaries. Finally, he landed on the only necessary change he could imagine. “Did something happen with the boys? I thought they wanted to keep sharing a room...”

“Not for the boys,” she corrected, breath stuttering as she worked up the courage for her next words. “I think I’m pregnant.”

Deep brown eyes grew wide before dropping to her stomach. “Are you serious?” His hands clenched her shoulders a little too tightly, but she was grateful for the reality of his firm grasp. Her mind still swimming with fears and questions, it was a relief to have something stable to hold onto.

"Uh-huh,” she confirmed with a sullen nod.

“You’re pregnant?”

Another nod. “The test says so, and I was pretty sure even before I took it -- but still. I don’t know what happened -- a mix-up with my birth control or something? I mean, it was an accident. We haven’t talked about babies or-”

Before she could finish the statement, Jaime’s lips were pressed to her forehead, his hands gently cradling her face. Tears flooded Arden’s eyes again at the tender promises in his touch, and her whole body was light with reassurance. Secrets between them had always been a burden.

“Arden,” he started slowly, swallowing against the onslaught of his own emotions. “If it’s an accident, then it’s the happiest accident of my life.”

“You’re sure?” Even in her momentary peace, it was impossible not to think of how much this accident – happy or not – was going to change everything.

He pulled back to see her, but still supported her face with both hands. “I’m positive. Try me. My mind’s an open book.” His eyes were still poring over her with the most intense look of adoration she’d ever known. But as he continued watching, that love turned to concern. “You’re not happy?”

“I’m too shocked right now to feel anything else. The past couple of years, I really hadn’t even thought about the possibility. I sure didn’t expect for it to happen without us planning for it first.”

“But it did.”

“Yeah,” she told him weakly, voice wavering as he combed the sweaty hair from her eyes.

“Sweetheart, just because we haven’t talked about this baby doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing. Sure, life’s going to be a little more complicated, but how could I not want to have a baby with you?”

Catching her lower lip with her teeth to keep from crying, Arden ventured to ask, “We’ll make it work?”

His certainty told her that the question didn’t even bear asking. “You know we will. It’ll be just like it was with the other three – we won’t know how we ever lived without this one.”

She laughed in spite of the tears that still ran down both cheeks. “You’re probably right.”

Jaime gathered her into his arms again, long fingers weaving into her hair. “I know I am. I don’t even care if it means adding onto the house again.”

“I love you,” she mumbled into his shoulder, holding tightly to the man who seemed to anchor her in any storm.

“I love you too.”

Several seconds later, she pushed away with a thought. “I should probably go. Alex will be back any minute and I don’t want them finding out like this.”

“Good thinking.” Jaime pulled her back for a quick kiss. “But one more thing before you leave.”

She paused, looking to him expectantly.

“I know I’ve always said it didn’t matter how we got our kids -- I’d love them whether they were ours from the start or not. That’s still true, but Arden? Having a baby with you is going to be pretty damn amazing.”

“It is,” she answered, finally holding back the tears as she attempted a smile. With a nod, she left him alone in the workshop, her hand resting against her stomach as she made her way back to the house. You’ll fit, little one. I promise. I don’t know how, but we’re going to make this work.

_____

Father’s Day, 2028

Melinda Gale had always loved babies. For as long as Arden could remember, her mother would coo at them in grocery store aisles, offer to hold them for family friends or relatives, and spend ages staring at them every time they attended a baby shower.

Arden had never had any such compulsions.

She enjoyed them, sure. They were cute and sweet, and she understood the desire to care for them. Holding them was fun, on occasion, though she’d always found it easy to look away when they were in the room.

But on this afternoon, keeping her eyes from straying to the small face in the infant carrier was impossible. They’d encountered the couple with the baby twice during their hike -- once at the bottom of the trail where they’d stopped for lunch, and now crossing paths again as they rambled upward through the hills. Both times, the pull had been magnetic, uncovering a desire that she hadn’t known existed.

With a quick check of her husband’s face, she knew that he was met with equal difficulty. Though he was several steps ahead, he tossed a wink over his shoulder once the small family was out of sight.

I can’t believe we get to have one of those.

Arden glowed at the excitement in Jaime’s thought. He’d been taking everything in stride, his positivity keeping her spirits up even on the days when all she could think of were the ways that having a baby was going to interfere with their plans. Despite her worries, his happiness was contagious.

For now, the new baby was still a secret between the two of them. They’d been hoping to wait for just a little bit longer -- at least until Family Day had passed. They’d agreed without much deliberation that it was best for this news not to overshadow the anniversary of the kids’ arrival.

Earlier in the week, they’d walked out of her first ultrasound appointment with a grainy picture and a projected due date for the middle of January. The car ride home had alternated between thoughtful silences and fits of giggles -- each of them still trying to wrap their minds around the fact that they would soon be a family of six.

Smile growing as she matched Alex’s pace, Arden remembered the conversation that had followed.

While Jaime put their lunch leftovers in the fridge, she gathered up the load of clean clothes that had finished in the dryer several hours before. She’d barely started folding before she sensed his familiar presence behind her.

“You can’t feel anything yet,” Arden reminded as his hand settled low on her belly.

“Neither can you, but that hasn’t stopped you from touching your stomach every time you think no one’s looking.”

“Touché,” she relented, shying away from the tickle of his lips at her throat. “Although I’m fairly certain that I’ll be the first one to feel something. And I’ll let you in on it as soon as it happens.”

“Still, if there’s any chance she can feel it, then...”

“Jaime...” Arden turned toward him, brushing her thumb over the stubble on his cheek. Though his lips were still curved into a smile, his eyes had turned serious.

“This baby is never ever going wonder whether she’s loved.”

“No, she’s not,” she agreed as she tucked a wisp of hair behind his ear. “There’s absolutely no danger of that happening. But we don’t know that it’s a she. We could be having a boy...”

Arden turned back to the laundry, snagging a pair of boxers for emphasis. He grinned fully and joined her in folding.

“I can’t help it. I keep imagining it’s a mini-you inside of there. A tiny little girl with your hair and your nose. Your narrow little feet...”

“It doesn’t always work that way.”

“It did with you and your mom.”

They shared a look, hesitant to delve any deeper into that line of thought. The day had been too full of joy for them to sully it with reminders of sorrow.

“Even if it is a girl,” she continued, “I hope she gets your eyebrows and your smile -- probably your height too.”

Jaime grew silent, slowing in his efforts to shake one of Will’s socks the right side out. Both of his eyes narrowed to slits.

“It’s not selfish,” she assured in answer to his unspoken thought. “You’re not selfish to want someone else in the world who shares your DNA. It’s an instinct you share with most of humanity.”

“Yeah, but it’s been years since any of that mattered. I don’t know why I care again all of a sudden.”

Her own motions ceased. “Because we’re talking about an actual baby now. It’s not a hypothetical,” she suggested, trying to keep her tone light. “And it’s a baby who's going to have things in common with you.”

“I hope she only gets the good parts.”

“All of your parts are good, Jaime. Honestly, I almost wonder if this baby is some divine way of showing that the world needs more of you.”

With a snicker, he shook his head at her assessment. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You've known that for a while now.”

“I married you anyway.”

She raised her lips for the kiss that always followed such conversations, and they quickly found themselves getting carried away with something other than the laundry on the couch.

“Mom! There’s a rock in my shoe!”

The announcement startled Arden from her reminiscing, the flush of heat at the base of her neck the only sign of her wandering mind.

Will was several yards ahead, continuing to limp along despite his obvious discomfort. Grateful that the brim of her hat cast a shadow over her rolling eyes, Arden lengthened her stride and caught up to her youngest son. “Let’s find a seat, buddy.”

“I can get it myself,” he insisted, still pressing forward.

“Then why’d you call for me?”

He shrugged, plopping onto a rock and yanking off one tennis shoe. Will offered no further explanation as she continued watching, too distracted with his inspection of the small piece of gravel that came from shoe’s heel.

Arden glanced up to see that the other three had stopped to wait for them. Alex had wandered a few steps ahead and was walking across a fallen log with his arms outstretched for balance. Jaime and Sophia were still talking animatedly about something, but Arden had lost the thread of their conversation long ago. As she watched, her husband nodded as if to encourage them to take their time.

“Can I double knot it?” Will’s fingers were already poised to loop the laces a second time.

“As long as you do it loosely.”

Will let out a disgruntled sigh before pulling the ties into a second knot. Finished, he hopped up and ran ahead with a sudden burst of energy. Arden hung behind a moment longer, considering the sight in front of her.

Just days from now, they’d pass the first anniversary of bringing these kids into their home. Life ever since had been full of give and take. Challenging, but fulfilling. Busy, but fun. Heartbreaking, but rewarding.

These kids had turned their lives upside down in all the best ways, and Jaime was right: it was impossible to imagine where they’d be without them.

Surely they could make it with one more.

#playchoices #playchoices fanfiction #wishful thinking #jaime lewis #jaime x mc

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lunaschild2016 · 5 years

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Dark On Me [Wraith/Eric]Part 2

A/N: A little something cooked up, brought to you by a monsoon, chai lattes and a sleeping five-year-old!

Rating: M

Genre: Romance, Angst, Drama

Summary: Summary: ‘You’re the cause, the antidote. The sinking ship I could not let go. Who led my way and disappeared. In the dead of night, you went dark on me.’ Wraith and Eric were well known for their dislike for each other, or so everyone thought. So he thought. Her death tormented him, just like she did in life. Love or hate? Enemy or soul-mate? What is the truth?

Eric: Jai Courtney

Wraith/Lexa: Kate Beckinsale (First Underworld)

Trip: Jacob Elordi

Tris: Shailene Woodley

Four: Theo James

@kenzieam @pathybo @jaihardy @every-jai@ericdauntless@beautifulramblingbrains@bookgirlthings@jojuarez26@oddsnendsfanfics@offroadinjandals@singingpeople@iammarylastar@irasancti@captstefanbrandt@clublulu333@fuckthatfeeling@tigpooh67@ex-bookjunky @jughead-wuz-here wuz-here @badassbaker@beanzjellly@beltz2016@meganbee15@affabletimelady@scorpio2009@gylisaa@geekybeyondallreason @violetsonthelam@kyloswarstars@emmysrandomthoughts@kgurew@beltzboys2015-blog @slytherin-princess-25273@whatwouldbuffydo666@jaiboomer11@holamor@wealwayskeepfighting @original46 @blakefc@xtheserpentx@artisthedgehog

Wraith

Four months earlier

“Why do you wear those things?”

Wraith pulled her hand away from her face and blinked rapidly as the contact adhered to her eye. It never failed to make her eyes water badly no matter how many times she’s repeated this same procedure over the years.

Once the tears had cleared enough to allow her to see again, she looked through her mirror to the sprawled out form on her bed in a brief glance before she looked back at her reflection. “Why do you ask questions you already know the answer to?”

His deep chuckle is his only reply as he throws the stress ball he carries around into the air before catching it. “I guess it’s my form of foreplay. You know how sexy it is to hear you explain things over and over again.” His tone dripping with sarcasm.

Wraith snorts and looks at her reflection evaluating everything.

Her hair was just cut back into the preferred length and style she liked to maintain. Her dark brown tresses are cut into a shaggy bob that skims just at her shoulders in front and only slightly longer in back. The cut and length giving her an edgy enough appearance to fit in at Dauntless but nothing remarkable enough to draw attention.

Her contacts are of the colored variety and serve two purposes. One, is to help with some visual enhancements, like allowing her to see better in the dark that the Dauntless compound is infamous for. The reason is to darken her normally sky blue eyes.

Wraith blinks away the tears from the new contact adhering to her eye and sighs as she gives one final look in the mirror, making sure the colors are right.

Dark brown, almost black, eyes look back at her. The color is common enough throughout Dauntless that it won’t draw attention. Not like those blue eyes, she was born with would.

She wears no makeup, piercings and has no tattoos; but when she needs to remind people why she made it through initiation and into Dauntless, she doesn’t have to rely on accessories or play dress up to do so. As far as she has always been concerned, the entire faction uses those to make up for what they have been lacking for years.

‘A real Dauntless wouldn’t need any of that crap.’

Wraith has always been a firm believer in actions speaking louder than words and she gets to do a lot of ‘speaking’ around this time of year.

She turns around and walks towards the bed where her boots sit on the floor waiting and her jacket is laid. She sits on the bed without sparing a glance at where the semi-naked man is resting.

“You ready for yet another enthralling day training the newbies?” He smirks at her and tosses the ball back up in the air again.

She pulls on a boot and looks at him with a blank expression. “So ready.”

Her tone is reminiscent of one from a cartoon she once saw. Droopy the dog. The name says it all in what her tone and expression delivers.

A bark of laughter meets her as a reaction and she looks down to lace up her boot only to get hit on the back of her head by the stress ball. She whips her head around and narrows her eyes at him.

“What?” He shrugs casually and catches the ball when she throws it back at him with more force. It hits his bare chest and he winces then rubs the spot. “You were the one that told me if you ever started to act like him, to throw something at you.”

Her lips twitch and she shakes her head, returning to her task.

“Speaking of him,” He continues on slowly, “Eric asked about us the other day.”

A scowl settled over her face and she was glad she still had to lace up her other boot. “Okay.” She replies casually and looks back up.

He sighs and runs a hand through his tousled brown hair, his forehead all scrunched up. “I mean, I gave him the same answer as always but there was just something….” he pauses and bites his lower lip for a moment in thought before continuing “...off about the entire conversation. He was more intense than normal and I couldn’t help thinking that he…”

“That he what, Trip?” She demanded after he just quit talking.

“That he knows.” He finished quietly as he looked away. Then he took a breath and looked back at her.

Wraith sucked her lower lip in between her teeth and drummed her fingers on the bed. “He knows what?”

Trip just shrugs in reply. “That we aren’t really together.” He motions between the two of them. “I mean, yeah I come over here and spend the night or whatever but I’m a little sparse on the details of what actually goes on because nothing goes on. I think he knows the reason I’m so closed mouth about things is because it isn’t real.”

She narrows her eyes at him and watches him as he shifts his eyes away and picks at the comforter.

“Who is he?” She asks softly and puts her hand over his. His head snaps up and his eyes go wide but she just gives his hand a gentle squeeze. “It’s alright, Trip. I’ve known for a while now.” She smiles at him as he blushes and looks down. “It isn’t obvious if that’s what you are worried about.”

“How did you know then?” Her friend stammered the question out slightly.

She chuckles quietly then sighs before moving to sit against the headboard with him. “We have found in several...interesting...positions since this all started, Trip. Ones that most men would have a reaction to with any one of the sex they are attracted to. So regardless of the fact that I know I’m not exactly the most stunning girl, I at least know a bit about human biology.” She smirks at his sheepish expression and shrugs then continues. “Then there was also the time you got completely drunk and kept asking me if I thought you were cute but more importantly did I think guys would think you are cute.”

Trip groans and lets his head hit the padded headboard behind him, closing his eyes. “So much for using me as your beard or whatever the espionage equivalent would be.”

Wraith can’t help it, she laughs at his pout and dejected tone and wraps her arm around her friend's shoulders. Which is a bit of a feat because Trip is annoyingly long even mostly reclined in bed.

“So what are we going to do?” He asks after a little pity party driven by embarrassment that she cuts of pretty quickly by slapping his shoulder then getting up to finish getting dressed for the day.

Wraith pulls her leather jacket on and sighs as she checks her pockets. “Well, I was thinking along the lines of a very public breakup after I confess an affair or something to you.” She smirks at him. “I get all the blame and you get a free pass to soothe your broken heart any way you can.”

Trip nods slowly, his brown eyes narrowed as if he’s trying to picture it. “What about our meetings though? That was the entire reason for this whole shit show in the first place.”

Wraith shrugs and turns back towards him as she was already walking towards her bedroom door. “As long as we wait a few more weeks, I don’t think it will jeopardize anything. Stage one will be almost over by then and the others will be too busy concentrating on the sims.”

He nods and sighs. “Just be careful. He’s watching this years class even harder than he did the last year. I’m not sure, but I think she might have said something to him about failing to catch anyone that last time.”

Wraith gritted her teeth. “He can watch until his eyes bleed.” She hisses out. “But he won’t find a fucking thing this year either.”

#fanfiction #divergent fanfiction #eric coulter fanfiction #romance #dark #smut #drama #angst #eric x oc #divergent au #eric coulter #oc #jai courtney #kate beckinsale

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astrogeoguy · 5 years

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Pointing at Polaris, Bright Pre-dawn Planets, and an Enticing Evening Moon!

(Above: Polaris, the Pole Star, is an easy double star visible in backyard telescopes. Look for a small companion near Polaris (yellow arrow) and then trace out the rest of the dim diamond ring asterism. Since the sky revolves around Polaris, the ring of stars can sit in any direction from Polaris.)

Hello, Stargazers!

Here are your Astronomy Skylights for the week of March 10rd, 2019 by Chris Vaughan. Feel free to pass this along to your friends and send me your comments, questions, and suggested topics. I repost these emails with photos at http://astrogeoguy.tumblr.com/ where all the old editions are archived. You can also follow me on Twitter as @astrogeoguy! Unless otherwise noted, all times are Eastern Time. Please click this MailChimp link to subscribe to these emails. If you are a teacher or group leader interested joining me on a guided field trip to York University’s Allan I. Carswell Observatory or the David Dunlap Observatory, visit www.astrogeo.ca.

I can bring my Digital Starlab inflatable planetarium to your school or other daytime or evening event, visit DiscoveryPlanitarium.com and request me. We’ll tour the Universe together!

My latest Mobile Astronomy column for Space.com is about opportunities to see all the spectacular objects in Charles Messier’s list during a single spring night. You can read it here.

Public Astro-Events

Taking advantage of the moon, Mars, and other bright objects in the sky this week, the RASC Toronto Centre astronomers will hold their free monthly public City Sky Star Party in Bayview Village Park (steps from the Bayview subway station), starting around 7 pm on the first clear weeknight this week (Mon, Tue, or Thu only). You don’t need to be an RASC member, or own any equipment, to join them – looks are free! Check here for details, and check the banner on their website home page or Facebook page for the GO or NO-GO decision around 5 pm each day.

Every Monday evening, York University’s Allan I. Carswell Observatory runs an online star party - broadcasting views from four telescopes/cameras, answering viewer questions, and taking requests! Details are here. On Wednesday nights they offer free public viewing through their rooftop telescopes. If it’s cloudy, the astronomers give tours and presentations. Details are here.

At 7:30 pm on Wednesday, February 13, the RASC Toronto Centre will hold their free monthly Speaker’s Night Meeting at the Ontario Science Centre, and the public are welcome. This month, the speaker will be Brittney Cooper, MSc student from York University’s Department of Astronomy. Her topic, Scattering Throughout the Solar System, will cover how light reflects off objects like Saturn’s rings, planet atmospheres, and more. Check here for details. Parking is free.

On Friday, March 15, starting at 7 pm, U of T’s AstroTour will present their planetarium show Grand Tour of the Cosmos. Tickets and details are here.

Saturday, March 9 marked the opening of a six-month exhibition at the Aga Khan Museum entitled The Moon: A Voyage through Time. The museum will feature installations of art, culture, history, and science pertaining to the moon. A public talk, The Moon: Mirror of Faith, Science, and the Arts will be delivered by Dr. Christiane Gruber on Saturday at 2:00pm. Details are here.

Walking the Big Dog

If you missed last week’s write-up about the night sky’s brightest star Sirius, and its constellation Canis Major (the Big Dog), I posted it with sky charts and pictures here.

(Above: The northern sky from mid-Northern latitudes, viewed here at 9 pm local time on March 11, features the Little Dipper / Ursa Minor and the Big Dipper / Ursa Major. The tail stars of Draco separate the two bears. The outer two stars of the Big Dipper’s bowl can be used to point to Polaris.)

Pointing at Polaris

Polaris, the North Star, is the star at the tip of the handle of the Little Dipper, the asterism we also know as the constellation Ursa Minor (the Little Bear). Contrary to popular opinion, Polaris is not a prominent star at all. It is ranked only 48th in brightness – but nevertheless it can easily be spotted with mere eyeballs in a moderately dark sky, if you know where to look. Polaris is located about 430 light-years from Earth. Its surface temperature is similar to our sun’s, but the star is much larger, and it emits 2500 times the light of our sun.

Polaris’ fame is due to its steadfast position over the northern horizon. While the rest of the sky revolves due to Earth’s rotation, Polaris remains anchored in place because it sits less than a finger’s width from the North Celestial Pole, the imaginary point in space that the Earth’s axis of rotation points at. Due to Earth’s precession, the slow wobble of the Earth’s axis, Polaris will slowly drifting closer to the pole until the year 2101. The star Thuban in Draco (the Dragon) was the pole star when the pyramids were built.

You can measure your latitude on Earth by counting how many degrees above the horizon Polaris is. Combine that knowledge with the fact that Polaris marks where the compass direction of north is, and you’re well on your way to figuring out your location on Earth - at least, that’s what folks did before GPS!

The easiest way to find Polaris is to use the outermost stars in the Big Dipper’s bowl. Join an imaginary line from Merak (the bottom of the bowl) to Dubhe (at the rim of the bowl) and keep going. Polaris is the next obvious star you’ll come to. It’s about three fist diameters from Dubhe. Don’t forget that the Big Dipper, like everything else in the sky, circles around Polaris continuously. Sometimes you’ll be drawing that line upwards, and sometimes to the left or the right. In March annually, you’ll find Polaris it downward and to the left of the dipper. Merak and Dubhe are often referred to as the Pointers. I’ll put a sky chart here.

If you have a telescope, aim it at Polaris and look for a dim, white-coloured partner star sitting near more yellowish Polaris. Once again, the little star can be anywhere on a circle surrounding Polaris. On mid-March evenings, the companion will be to the lower left, but your telescope’s optics will probably flip it to another orientation. That little star can be joined up with more stars to form a small, roughly circular ring of dim stars on the side of Polaris opposite to the Little Dipper’s bowl. It’s called the Engagement Ring, and Polaris is the diamond. Let me know if you see it.

In mid-March at around 9 pm local time, the rest of the Little Dipper extends sideways to the right from Polaris, and curves strongly upwards towards the Big Dipper. The two dippers fall on either side of the tail stars of Draco. The magnitude 2.06 star at the outer edge of the Little Dipper’s bowl (and closest to the Big Dipper) is slightly dimmer than Polaris. This medium-cool, reddish star is named Kochab. The other five stars of the constellation may be too dim to see from the city, but binoculars will reveal them. Good luck!

The Moon and Planets

This week, the moon will entice you to gaze upon it after dinner. It will spend the week waxing fuller while it climbs the western evening sky. When the moon is at this stage of its monthly journey around Earth, the sun is slowly rising over the moon’s eastern horizon. The slanted “dawn” sunlight casts long, deep black shadows to the west (our left) of any elevated feature on the moon – including crater rims, mountain chains, ridges, and fault scarps. For the best views, point your binoculars or telescope along the strip flanking the pole-to-pole line that divides the lit and darkened hemispheres. And remember, when the majority of the side of the moon we see is dark, the far side is mostly lit. In other words, it’s wrong to refer to the part of the moon we never see as the dark side, because it’s only dark half of the time!

(Above: On Monday evening, the waxing crescent moon will land a palm’s width below Mars, as shown here at 9:30 pm local time. Much dimmer Uranus is in nearby Pisces. The star Menkar, to the left of the moon, is Ceti Alpha of Star Trek canon.)

On Monday evening, the waxing crescent moon will be positioned a palm’s width below Mars. The duo will set at about midnight local time. At the same time, you might notice a rough circle of medium-bright stars to the moon’s left. That’s the head of Cetus (the Whale). The brighter, warm-coloured star positioned a fist’s diameter to the left of the moon is named Menkar. That star’s formal designation is Alpha Ceti, “the brightest star in the whale”. In Star Trek lore, Ceti Alpha V was the planet around that star that James Kirk marooned Khan Noonian Singh and his group on in the Original Series episode “Space Seed”. It was later featured in “The Wrath of Khan”. Take a look!

On Wednesday evening, the moon will land just below the triangle of medium-bright stars that form the face of Taurus (the Bull). Stargazers in western North America will see the moon approach close to the bright, orange-ish star Aldebaran (the eye of the bull) before both objects set in the west. Wherever you live, look a fist’s diameter to the right of the moon for the Seven Sisters, the small, bright cluster of stars that form the logo for the Subaru car company. The sisters were the daughters of Atlas and Pleione in Greek mythology. We also call this object the Pleiades cluster and Messier 45.

On Thursday morning, the moon will reach its First quarter phase, when it will sit at a 90° angle from the sun and will appear half-illuminated. First quarter moons rise around noon and set around midnight, so they become visible starting in the afternoon. The term quarter moon refers not to its appearance, but the fact that our natural satellite has now completed the first quarter of its orbit around Earth since the last new moon.

(Above: On Thursday evening, the First Quarter moon will tickle the toes of Gemini, as shown here at 9 pm local time. Orion’s raised club is at bottom centre.)

On Thursday evening the moon will tickle the toes of Gemini (the Twins). On Saturday night, the waxing gibbous moon will be positioned about a palm’s width to the right (west) of the large open star cluster known as the Beehive or Messier 44 in the constellation of Cancer (the Crab). The moon encounters the cluster frequently because the Beehive is located only 1 degree north of the ecliptic, the great circle around the sky that most solar system objects orbits are close to. To see the cluster’s stars, try placing the bright moon just outside the field of view of your binoculars. The following evening, the moon will hop past the cluster to sit a similar distance to the lower left (east) of the “bees”.

As I referenced above, Mars will be an easy planet to see every evening this week. When the sky begins to darken, look for Mars as a medium-bright, reddish pinpoint of light less than halfway up the western sky. The Red Planet will set at about midnight local time. Mars has been slowly shrinking in size and brightness as we increase our distance from it little-by-little.

(Above: The eastern pre-dawn sky, shown here at 7 am local time, features three bright planets. Very bright Jupiter rises first and moves into the southern sky by dawn. Brighter Venus is low in the southeast, and dimmer Saturn sits midway between them.)

The remaining bright planets have been hanging out in the eastern pre-dawn sky, and they’re putting on quite a show. Bright Jupiter will rise first, at about 3 am local time. By 7 am local time, it will be a beacon in the southern sky. Yellowish Saturn, which is somewhat dimmer due to its greater distance from Earth and its slightly smaller diameter, will rise at about 4:45 am local time and will be lost in the twilight by 7 am.

Our sister planet Venus is now getting markedly closer to the sun and will soon disappear into the dawn twilight. Venus’ blazing brilliance will grace the lower part of the southeastern dawn sky after 6 am local time, and remain in view until sunrise. In a telescope, Venus will exhibit a gibbous (more than half-illuminated) phase. If you have trouble seeing Saturn, search about midway between Jupiter and Venus. I’ll post sky charts for the observable planets here.

Keep looking up, and enjoy the sky when you do. I love questions and requests - so, send me some!

#astronomy #stargazing #planets #stars #universe #Polaris #Little Dipper #Ursa Minor #Big Dipper #Venus #Jupiter #First Quarter Moon #Draco #Gemini #mars 2018

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spellcastersjudgement · 6 years

Note

Jaden nd bastion for that domestic ask thing? >:3c

THE OTP YES i have so many feelings and everyone needs to hear me sob over the nerd baby and his superhero

also that icon is the content i look for on this hellsite well done

who is the big spoon/little spoon Jaden is the little spoon!! he prefers being the big spoon tbh he likes curling up against bastions fuckin ripped back but jaden always falls asleep first because he has to get this twelve hours or else he will be a grumpy boy but bastion?? bastion stays up all night drinking coffee and doing god knows what bc he’s the type of guy thats like ‘hey jaden im gonna go read a bit before i got to bed’ and then he fuckin stays up all night because he has no self control lmao so when it’s like 3am and he’s finally put down his book or finished dicking around on the computer he finally gets in bed and he doesnt want to wake up his husband (yes theyre married in my mind ok im love them) so he just lays down and pulls the human kuriboh to his chest and falls asleep

what is their favorite non-sexual activity the standard answer is Card Games but besides dool masters they like to go on drives and look at stars and talk abt whatever. bastion is a chemical engineer and jaden’s his professional duelist trophy husband so they dont get to be together as much as they want bc jaden’s tournament schedule so when they’re together they gotta make it count u know so bastion will pick jaden up from the airport and they’ll just start driving out of the city talking about DM or what bastion’s been up to or whatever’s going through jaden’s mind (an enigma lmao) and then when there are no more streetlights to make it difficult to see the stars they’ll pull over and lay on the hood and cuddle and keep talking. it’s like 4am before they finally go home and since they’re going to sleep at the same time jaden finally gets his chance to be the big spoon

who uses all the hot water in the morning getting jaden to shower is a fucking struggle he’s like a cat. living in the slifer dorm made him accustomed to being a generally gross person in general so he lives off dry shampoo and body spray so he doesn’t smell like hassleberry after a workout so that leaves bastion to take all of the water because he showers every morning after his run and insists on h is hair being perfect and well taken care of. like the guy has at least five different hair care products in the shower at all times while jaden, even though he’s dumb thick rich, buys that 3-in-1 crap he and syrus used to make stretch for a month back in college. jaden is also known to stick his kuriboh hair under the sink and shake it out like a dog because he is a gross boy that usually gets up about ten minutes before he has to leave so there’s no time for an actual shower and we’ve gotten away from the actual question but the tldr is bastion stands under the hot water he’s got one of those mirrors to shave in the shower while he’s doing his deep conditioning treatment and has a pore strip on his nose for beautiful ™ skin

what they order from take out this one ties in a lot to my sageshipping BrOTP headcanons (on god there needs to be a brotp ask so i can scream to the world my love for bastion/alexis friendship) but the bit of background is that bastion and alexis would always order from this indian place that was open real late at night when they were in grad school together (no delivery at duel academy cause its an island u know) so it has a special place in his heart. jaden is a wimp when it comes to spice but since bastion loves it they order it anyway and the people that deliver the food know to make it wimpy baby spicy for jaden so he doesn’t end up sweating half his body weight up and crapping out lava four hours later

what is the most trivial thing they fight over oh god they dont fight a lot because they love and appreciate each other’s eccentricities but if they’re going to fight its going to be over who’s doing the driving. they both love cars, bastion likes taking it apart and modifying them and whatnot and jaden likes the aesthetique (though his aesthetique is painting flames on a corolla jaden u lil shit smh) and they both like to go fast so when they go out they bitch abt who gets to drive. bastion tells jaden he doesnt appreciate the feel of the machine and jaden says bastion drives like a fucking old man so they end up settling the matter with rousing game of rock paper scissors

who does most of the cleaning NEITHER OH MY GOD theyre both total slobs. bastion’s desk and home office is covered in his notebooks and duel monster cards, his walls covered with god knows what (formulas, dates, to-do lists, grocery lists) the guy just grabs the sharpie and starts writing because he’s afraid of forgetting something if he doesnt get it down right then. jaden lives in filth he has three day old bowls of cereal at his desk and uses used napkins as tissues he is certifiably NASTY. anyway they hire a housekeeper to make sure the entire house doesnt fall into disarray and she’s like their surrogate mother making sure they eat more than takeout and coffee and making sure the house smells nice. they call her Mama Cheryl (good middle aged mom name) and she’s the embarrassing mom at jadens local tournaments the kind that prints out huge pictures of his face and wears shirts with Neos on them and cheers for her boy v loudly. again we’re away from the question but i have a lot of headcanons abt this i’ll probs put in my dissertation lol

what has a season pass in their DVR hmmm this is an interesting one…i like to think jaden loves crime shows because they’re heroes and he likes watching the good guys ™ win in the end. his favorite show is psych (which u all should watch its hilarious) but since that ended a while ago he’s been in to criminal minds and SVU because he likes watching the really diabolical criminals get caught. bastion never knew his mans was into such dark stuff until he opened the season pass thingy and got quite the heart attack because he thought jaden was all butterflies and flowers and funny stuff but bastion had to learn the duality of man the hard way. bastion doesn’t watch television that much but his guilty pleasure is vikings on the history channel and stuff on the discovery channel because he loves learning what a nerd

who controls the netflix queue jaden is the one that likes to watch netflix the most but i wouldnt say he’s in control per se. they’re usually down for watching what each other likes but in the end jaden will sometimes end up superseding bastion because dammit bas we are not watching a documentary about the dead sea scrolls you dont even believe in god and bastions like fine youre cute we can watch Castle (even though thats not on netflix but i wish it were)

who calls up the super/landlord when the heat’s not working jaden. jaden all the way. bastion brings up a a wikihow article about how to fix the hvac system and he’s like I CAN FIX THIS and jadens like ily babe but you work with chemicals not with this kind of thing ur gonna break it like the time u tried to fix the sink and fuckin clogged the shit out of it we are calling Cheryl and Cheryl’s like jaden im a housekeeper call someone who actually does this for a living. anyway while theyre waiting for the professionals to get there bastion tries to demonstrate he knows what he’s doing he is smort by writing the steps and shit on the wall and jadens like youre so cute but no dont touch the heating system. he has to distract his lil nerd by asking him about what deck he should use for his next tournament or what the probability of drawing three polymerizations on the first turn is and bastion loves talking about math so jaden keeps asking questions until the system is fixed (he doesnt remember much of bastions mathematical explanations but bastion looks so cute with his eyes all bright and shiny talking about statistics)

who leaves their stuff around BOTH they are slobs. jadens a bit worse if we’re being honest because while bastion leaves his papers and cards around schmaden schmuki leaves his underwear and food and cups in the living room and is prone to stripping off his clothes for one reason or another and just laying on the couch watching ESPN with his goddamn pants on the floor and saying they were constricting his knees or some shit when bastion asks why he feels the need to be half naked all the time. bastion had his own room in college so he doesnt quite understand why jadens comfortable just answering the door with a trail of clothing behind him because most people that dont know him assume he’s been getting bizzay but nah he just be Like That

who remembers to buy the milk jaden do because he drinks milk in his coffee. bastion drinks it black so if theres no milk its like eh whatever but jaden is a mess without his caffeine and he hates how bitter and gross it is when theres no milk in it so even if jaden’s not the one going to the grocery store he’ll write it on the wall so bastion will remember it because his mans dont check his texts that often but anything on that wall he fuckin remembers and jaden doesnt understand why he be Like That

who remembers anniversaries both! they are dumb thick in love with each other and they like to plan little things to do for the anniversary of their first date, when they made it official, their wedding, etc. jaden is much more extravagant and will do something like jump on the bed until bastion wakes up and then drag him out for breakfast and get atticus to sing a really off-key renditions of classic love songs and bastion blushes so hard and its so cute it should be criminal lmao. bastion will get jaden a cute little gift like one of those pictures where the artist takes a photo and paints it so they can hang it on their wall. or bastion will fine tune his duel disk or get him a new card for his deck. they are in big gay love and i love them so much

thanks for this ask on god i just wrote 1800 words of tutorship feels i have a problem lol

#sailorspencer #ygogx #the boy #bastion #the otp #tutorshipping #i had sooo much fun writing this im love fluffy domestic tutorship boys

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carpe-lumxn · 4 years

Text

♣ 15 QUESTIONS ABOUT THE MUSE.

Now, usually Lucifer would lie through this test, so for the sake of authenticity, she is under a truth serum, I suppose. Without further ado, let’s start!

① ARE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE ?

“No. And that’s probably a good thing because I might take this name from someone else if needed. That, and I can’t imagine another name for myself. Lucifer— the light bringer. Has a nice ring to it, when considering my plans of confronting the Almighty. Shedding light to whatever is hidden.

“I do have a planet named after me-- Venus. Thought it was a star for a long time. But no. It was just a planet. Yahweh has a funny sense of humour.”

② WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED ?

“Sweetheart, you didn’t even blink.”

“Rather touchy question, is it not? Tell anyone, and I’ll order for you to be burnt alive.”

“The last time I really cried... 1928. Chicago, 1928. I used someone I thought I loved. I thought I could handle it, because she’s done the same thing to me, over and over. I did not.

“Then there was the 50s. Some barons kidnapped a few lower demons to wrangle information out of them. They used something called Holy water torture. Works similarly like Chinese water torture. Except. They added one drop of the stuff to a whole gallon of water. The demons died. Slowly. Painfully. All of them. Holy water is painful, yes, but when delivered in such a low concentration the death is drawn out to several hours, days, even. The worst thing was, I could’ve done more. I could have done more to stop it from happening.”

She coughs. “Next question.”

③ DO YOU HAVE KIDS ?

“Oh, sure, do I have kids? ‘S not like Armageddon was botched by someone else, is it?

“In theory, somewhat. Even so, Adam Young only shares about what, 200mLs of my blood? You see, his true parent is Satan. Except that Satan was an alter ego I created back during the War in Heaven meant to represent as an antithesis. This name is now used by all the members of the Dark Council. And I may be the demon of pride but I understand that evil is a spectrum that I myself cannot personify.

“And Adam Young wasn’t gestated in the traditional manner, but made in this cauldron where we mixed the blood of all the members of the Dark Council. I tweaked his genetic makeup— removed the appendix and wisdom teeth altogether, because those are the aspects of human anatomy that had always bothered me, but my involvement only extends up to that moment.

“Adam abdicated, because he came to like humanity. Probably planned by Yahweh this entire time. He would not consider me as a parent, but that should be fine by me.”

“I don’t think I’d ever want to have a child entirely of my own. I don’t want to bring something so good and vulnerable into a world that wants to destroy it and twist it up. Especially when considering my status. Knowing Yahweh, She’ll just use that as an opportunity to use them like a tool and say that I’m just like Her. Somehow. In a way I’ll never forget.

“So no. I can’t ever do that to someone.”

④ DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT ?

“No no, of course not. What an unorthodox distortion of language. Really now, expecting people to get the dramatic irony embedded within everyday speech? Too intimidating, no? Gives too much power to the speaker while proving as an effective armour. Lots of muddled up meaning. Double entendres. Loopholes. Well. Good thing I would never do such a thing, innit.”

“Sweetheart, I’m the devil.”

“It’s fun to listen to and decipher. And it’s fun to break the rules of conversations, say more things inconspicuously. Let the person decide for themselves. It’s a way I use to get to know someone. Yes, I like using sarcasm in conversations.”

⑤ WHAT’S THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE ?

“I hear about other people based on reputation alone. And if they’re mentioned by two different people, I keep in mind how these representations differ from each other. That way, I can draw patterns and hypothesise myself what the person of interest is actually like. For example, if one human boasts about all the ‘Heavenly’ deeds someone such as a king did, yet another human claim that all that king’s conquests are bloody and merciless, I can deduce that that king likes to use the excuse of performing a Heavenly favour in order to commit mass manslaughter.

“I never forget a face, either. And a lot of the Fallen in Hell were my co-workers. It’s not an effective way to recognise someone, especially when considering discorporations that happen then and there. But no, I never forget the attitude of someone and the face that goes along with it. It’s something familiar that I can grasp upon.”

⑥ WHAT’S YOUR EYE COLOR ?

“Blue. Sulphur blue. My eyes had always been that colour, sure, but my colleagues always swore that they had been a brighter, more saturated shade ever since the Fall. Think that has something to do with my Hellfire.

“And course, that’s not considering the pupils. Yes, I have diamond pupils now. I can’t erase them entirely, but I can constrict my irises to be like that of a human’s when I need to blend in. Don’t worry— it’s only cat eye syndrome.” She winks.

⑦ SCARY MOVIE OR HAPPY ENDING ?

“Happy endings are morphine for me. I'm afraid of happy endings because I hate how numb and content they make me feel. It’s why I always stop any of the lighthearted musicals I’m watching halfway through-- I’d rather not be influenced to feel so happy for fictional characters. Because I’m afraid that once I hit that point, I’ll never want something better for myself again. I’m not so pathetic that I cannot find happiness in my real life."

“Horror films are a little more familiar for me. Sure, they sometimes do have a lot of gore. Slow gore, where the character dies very slowly. Very disturbing. And psychological horror. Also very disturbing. Cosmic horror, too, I-I-I-I-I can’t even fathom who was beaten as a child to create those sort of stories. But I have routines to combat that, because I experience something similar in Hell often, anyway. When considering the big picture, horror is ironically better for me.

“So yes. Scary movies.”

⑧ ANY SPECIAL TALENTS ?

“I believe myself to be incredibly driven, resourceful, and determined. And that I can do whatever to get what I need.”

“Arguably, I’d say that these ‘talents’ are only useful thanks to how I use them. To work hard. And to work hard is not exactly a talent on itself, it’s more like training routine discipline into yourself.

“Speaking of hard work, I am quite skilled in conversation, influencing them so that I get what I need. Or seek out a compromise between the speaker and I, while also under the impression that I hold all of the cards, as the humans say.

“Oh-! And how could we forget about my Hellfire? My Hellfire is unique in that it’s a higher temperature than other Hellfire. Ever seen the bottom of a flame? That blue colour? That is the hottest part of the flame, and where the colour of my Hellfire comes from. Arguably my Hellfire’s colour also comes from its sulphur contents which, by the way, is because that’s the colour of brimstone fire.

“I also sew up spare corporations quickly, which works in a pinch whenever I accidentally discorporate a demon, or when I’m running low on corporations I could use.”

⑨ WHERE WERE YOU BORN ?

“Like every other angel and demon, Heaven. Not sure whether the specific location still exists since it had been so long. New angels are still born, but I suspect that it’s in a new location. Not many angels are created anymore, after all. Rather, they’re often the reincarnated souls of demons killed by Holy water.”

⑩ WHAT ARE YOUR HOBBIES ?

“You could argue that me interviewing other demons to get to know them is a hobby of mine. I like it. I get to be close, but not too close, and it lets me understand the demons under my wing a little more. And I could help them as much as I want. At least, as much until someone notices what I’m doing,

“I also like to take Coco, ahem, Sirocco out for gallops and some fresh air. She loves them a lot, and I like it, too. I like the feeling of us being so connected. Sometimes when we go fast enough, it almost seems like I’m finally flying.

“Otherwise? I don’t let myself have leisurely hobbies, they distract me. At least, routine ones.”

“But I suppose there are some times when I just can’t hold it off. Sometimes. I listen to some of my records. Watch old Fred and Ginger flicks. I used to sing a lot more when I was an angel. I haven’t tried it for a while, however."

“There are some hobbies I would like to learn... in another life, that is. I’d love to learn how to play the piano. Guitar, too. And lute. So you could argue that I would like to have a lot of music-oriented hobbies.”

⑪ DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS ?

“I have a steed. Sirocco. She was a Camargue horse from the 1100s I picked up. Very beautiful, wonderful horse. Course, Sirocco can be a little rebellious at times. But I like that in any companion of mine. It proves that they’re truly acting to their own accord and see me honestly.

“If I was a human, I’d also get a chihuahua. Poor dogs get very mistreated very much just because they’re small. People put them into handbags. Don outfits for them when they don’t need them, when they just want to be dogs and roam and sniff around. I would very much like to finally treat one well for once.

"I would also have a dragon if I could. But that can’t happen, can it?"

⑫ WHAT SPORTS DO YOU PLAY/HAVE YOU PLAYED ?

“Horse riding. Once again, it’s as close as flying for me that I will ever get, and it’s a nice activity for Coco and I to bond.

“Otherwise? I think sports is a little high risk thanks to a scar Mickey Mouse gave me. Was stabbed between the ribs with a sword doused in Holy fire, and it had never completely healed since. If something hits me hard enough in the chest, like, say, a ball, I’ll just end up hacking up blood.”

⑬ HOW TALL ARE YOU ?

“160cm. 155 in my male corporation. By the way, Imperial is a terrible measuring system so I refuse to use it. Yes, I know, I know, embarrassing height for demons of my type. But here’s the catch— no matter what, a long string of coincidences always makes sure that my corporation never extends past the 160cm height limit. And yes, I refuse to clarify why.

“As for my true form... well. My true form is a ball of light, so the light rays reach a surface area of a small moon. But otherwise? The physical nucleus itself is... is only as big as a rock melon. Probably why I can’t get much taller. Erhm, next-!”

⑭ DREAM JOB ?

“Take Yahweh's job. Not my fault if She made me a better, more responsible leader than She is.

“And if I was a human... I’ve teased the idea to open up a jazz club. Learn to play the piano. Learn to play guitar. Play music. Sing, even. But no violins-! Of course. I’m still a demon. That can never happen for me.

“I’m happy that I have my current job. Especially because I don’t trust the other demon Lords to not exploit the denizens of Hell for their own personal benefit. And it’s similar to my old one-- guiding everyone to a bigger goal.

⑮ FAVORITE SUBJECT AT SCHOOL ?

“I see that you’ve studied a lot for this interview.”

“I’ve never went to what humans would consider a school, per se, which, fun fact, is based upon a system designed to turn children into obedient factory workers. No, all angels were born with all the knowledge we will ever need... by what Yahweh intended them to be, that is.

“If we relate the concept of Heaven to me as what a human school is to you, I suppose I miss singing our celestial harmonies. Very nice representation of what orchestrated group effort can do. It’s been a long time since I’ve sung, nevermind played a harp, but... I’ve always looked forward to them. Even when they ate up the time we needed to build Earth.”

Tagged by: @hellsrhapsody //thank you scotty!!

#confidential (about)#//gosh Lucifer has a lot of issues huh

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