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bigassmoonchild · 8 months

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Talk

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

The previous part gives context for this story. Please read it so you aren't confused on anything. The rest isn't necessary.

Summary: Nothing had ever hurt you this bad. Your Alpha walked out on you, the only thing you could think was that your Alpha had abandoned you and your pup. And all you could think about was the pain you'd gone through because of it. Simon wasn't in any better shape.

Content Tags: Hurt, Mild Comfort, Angst, Ghost is shit at communicating, And shit with emotions, Price is the voice of reason, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost, No use of Y/N

A/N: I got sick and my sinuses are shot. Here's some more Maple Syrup, feel free to send in asks or request to be added to the tag list. As always, content under the tag and my asks are open <3.

Part 1 | Previous, Next | Headcannons, Masterlist

The second you heard the door open, you'd spun. It hadn't been seconds since you made your announcement to the hearing committee when Simon walked out. You could feel your heart sinking and your eyes moved to find Price, who was staring back after him. You could hear murmurs from the committee and you turned to look at them.

"This hearing is dismissed. When we receive the results, we will meet back then. Until then, you and Mr. Riley will no longer be separated. We will send you a message once we receive the results," you nodded, looking back before picking up your things.

As you walked out, Price pulled you to the side. You could feel your throat closing, your eyes watering as you stood there. Your Alpha walked out on you, hearing you might be pregnant. He walked out on yourself and your pup.

"You didn't tell him?"

"How the hell was I supposed to tell him?" You growled at Price. "Homing pigeon?" He scoffed, looking away. "We were both babysat 24 hours a day, Price, there was literally no way for us to talk," you shook your head, looking away, a few tears falling from your eyes.

Price pulled you into him, resting his chin on yours. "I'm sure he left to think. He's probably just as overwhelmed as you, I'll try to find him so I can talk to him," Price whispered to you, rocking the two of you side to side.

Quite honestly, you were terrified. All you could think was that your Alpha didn't want you anymore, that he would find out how to break your bond and do it so he didn't have to deal with you. At some point, Price had led you to your room and left you alone.

You'd moved to lay in your nest but saw all of Simons shirts and hoodies still in there. Sitting on your bed, you stared at it, debating on whether or not you take them out. You could feel the tears pouring down your face, heart dropping in your stomach as you thought about it.

He really didn't want you, did he? He hadn't lied when he initially said it was a mistake, everything had been a lie, was his name really Simon? All you knew was his face and his code-name, and all you could do was sit there, silently crying. You could feel your muscles tensing and untensing, body shaking.

And so you moved, grabbing his clothes and other items you had collected of his and pulling them out of your nest. When you got halfway through, you'd broken down, sobbing.

Alpha hates you.

You felt like you were going to throw up, you could hear whines coming from your chest. You dug through it, though, tossing his clothes out of your nest and finding some of your own shirts and blankets you had stockpiled for this exact reason.

Rebuilding your nest had never been harder. It was supposed to be where you and Si- Ghost would have slept, where you would have taken care of your pups. It was where you were supposed to grow old, where you'd eventually pass together.

Apparently, he didn't want any of that. Did he ever? You didn't want to think about this anymore, and so you curled up in your nest and tried to sleep it off, but how could you? You wanted to leave. Really, really badly.

There was nowhere to go, but you needed to move. You got up and left the room, walking through the halls as you moved aimlessly. You wanted nothing more than to curl up with your Alpha but all you knew was that he didn't want you.

You found yourself in the rec room the 141 often used and Soap and Gaz stared at you. You knew you looked horrible, hair beyond fucked and face puffy from the crying. Jesus, how many times would this man make you cry like this?

"What happened?" Soap went up to you, pulling you to sit between him and Gaz on the couch before grabbing you a glass of water. "Why're ye crying?"

"Ghost," and Soap scoffed, Gaz laying himself across you, trying to get you to relax and Soap moved next to you, forming a small pack pile. You were hiccupping as you cried, trying to get through the sentence. "Fucking walked out of the hearing room after I said I might be pregnant to the committee just to get his ass outta trouble," you could hear them groan, felt them chuffing (and you thought you heard purring from one of them) against you to try and soothe you.

No matter what, you'd integrated yourself into Ghosts pack and he wouldn't be able to get rid of you. "It'll be alright. He's just in his head," you could feel the tears drying again as the noises surrounding you calmed you somewhat.

Without your Alpha, though, you weren't sure what to do. You'd be tossed to the side, any Omega who was abandoned by their Alpha was deemed disgusting. A waste. Someone who wasn't worth a pack, someone who would have to work little jobs to just survive. Someone who could get taken without anyone noticing.

Just another body on the streets trying to get by. You didn't want that, especially if you were actually pregnant with a pup. Your Alpha was supposed to be by your side no matter what, he was supposed to help you when you needed it and you were supposed to care for him.

Ghost didn't want you. He would get rid of you, he would leave you on the streets and would get rid of your bond mark, would take a better Omega. Find someone better. Find someone who was worthy of his bite, someone who wouldn't drop bombs on him without at least trying to alert him to what was happening.

You didn't know it, but you'd fallen asleep at some point, waking up to see Simon sitting across from you. Price was there, arms crossed and leaning against the wall as the two waited for you to wake up.

"You'll need to talk," Price said.

Simon was still walking outside when he smelled Price not too far from him. He paused, turning back and watching as he caught up, falling in pace together and just walking. Price checked his watch, pulling a cigar out of his jacket pocket and lighting it.

"I don't think you realize how hurt your Omega is," Price said around the cigar, smelling the anger and distress in Simons scent spiking. He let out a grunt, hands stuffing themselves in his pockets. "Walking out wasn't the best choice. The boys have her in a pack pile, they're trying to soothe her for you," he added, seeing Simons eyes flicker to him for a moment.

With a shrug, Simon looked away. "Doesn't matter to me, I don't want to be a father," that wasn't true. Simon knew it, and Price would eventually find that out too. Simon wanted to be with his Omega, scent her when he could.

"They rescinded the babysitters, you know," all Simon wanted to do was curl up in your nest with you, scent marking you all over and remarking you. It'd been nearly a month since he was last able to, and that's all that he wanted.

Price sighed, grabbing his arm to pull him to a stop. Simon looked away, tugging his arm out of Price's hold. He pulled a cigarette out, tugging his balaclava up enough for him to get his mouth on it and then lighting it, inhaling deeply before pulling it out of his mouth.

The two stood, staring at the squads doing drills in the distance. They didn't say anything, just existing together, both deep in thought.

Simon wanted to find you and apologize, he wants to comfort you. He wants to hold you and hide you away with him so nothing like this ever happens again.

He wants a life with you, a home to go to when you two could get leave. He wants pups, he wants to see you round after he was able to breed you good and hard. He wanted to be there for you, take care of you in and out of your heat, he wanted to take you on dates and get to know you better.

He wanted to meet your family.

Price was watching him, the gaze Simon had was distant. Eyes unblinking and staring through people rather than at them. Price almost knew exactly what Simon was thinking, having gone through just about the exact same thing.

Not same circumstance, but same thought process. I can't have pups, I'll turn out like they think I will. I'll end up hurting them, they're too good for what I do. I can't put them in danger because they have no choice. It was horrible to think about it, but even Price thought of leaving his Omega.

Dropping everything and running, leaving all the money he had saved up with his Omega to care for their pup. But he didn't, he found people to talk to and was able to get through it. Simon needed that person, and god be damned he would be it.

"Talk with her, you need to figure out what you're going to do. I have pups of my own, I promise you that there is nothing this military won't do to keep them safe," he said, pulling Simons out of his thoughts.

Simon shook his head, opening his mouth to speak before Price cut him off.

"I am telling you this because I went through the same thing. You have people around you to help, you won't turn out the same father you think you will. Things happen, and you'll figure it out as you go," Price said and he could see as Simons face fell, realization of his actions finally hitting him.

He abandoned his Omega, and all he wanted to do was fix it. Fix his mistakes and make sure that you would never be hurt how he just hurt you. There was nothing he wouldn't do to fix this, and he would fix this.

Price led him to where you'd been, Soap having left him a message that you were with him and Gaz well before he'd found Simon. He knew that they would be short with Simon, he knew that they wouldn't want to leave you.

So he'd made them leave. Told them that he would be standing right there and wouldn't let anything happen. Had to make sure that they knew that you would be safe.

You didn't look at Ghost. Your eyes finding more interest in the carpet, or the wall by Price. Neither of you talked for a few long moments, you didn't want to say anything and Ghost wasn't sure what to say.

"I'm sorry," was all he said and your wrist found your gland, rubbing harshly against it. You could smell his distress, watching you scent yourself. All you could tell was that he didn't seem like he regretted anything. "I'm so scared," it was nearly a mockery of those words you'd used with him when trying to figure out what would happen next after you'd been bonded to him.

He could smell distress on your scent after he said that, head dropping down as he slowly realized what he'd said. "I didn't know what to do, I don't know how to be a parent," he whispered to you.

"And you think I do?" You hissed at him, legs pulling into your body as you wound your arms around them. "You think I'm not just as scared? I'm here, trying to help you get out of this mess you're in, and you're just abandoning me?"

He didn't look at you, not at all. Not a glance, all he could do was scent the different emotions flowing through you.

He opened his mouth again. "I didn't have a good family life, so I don't know how to go about all of it," he explained shortly. "I don't know what to do," he whispered softly.

You finally looked at him, his eyes downcast and his shoulder slumped in, elbows on his knees. You could taste the hurt in his scent, but you didn't want anything to do with it.

Alpha walked out on you.

"I just want to fix what I did,"

"I don't know if you can."

His eyes shut tight, jaw clenching as the hurt in his scent became all you could taste. His hands were shaking and you were just looking at him.

"You've hurt me so much, Ghost, and I can't always let you get away with it," you explained, fingers pulling at the skin near you nails. "I can't keep going through this up and down with you, it's not healthy," there was almost nothing you could say. Nothing you could think that he could do to get back to where he'd been.

"Just let me try, it's all I need," you looked at Price, who had a solemn look on his face. You could see it in his face, the faint whispers of let him try coming off of him. You didn't know what to do. "I can start over again, I'll court you again just tell me what I can do to fix it,"

You had to blink tears out of your eyes. You wanted to curl up with Alpha, let him hold you in your nest and sit there and be safe with him. You wanted to go back and take everything you'd said back. You wanted to restart. You wished you could have, you regretting this, you wanted to change that.

All you could do was shake your head, looking away. "I honestly don't know," you whispered, voice cracking. "I'm so beyond hurt right now, and you're the only person responsible for it," he looked up at you, eyes watery as panic became evident.

He looked away, you could see his throat working as he swallowed.

"Are you regretting this?" He asked and you felt your heart drop. Your brows furrowed, you wished you could go back and change things you'd done, but did you regret being mated with him?

"No," and it was nothing short of the truth. You genuinely cared for him, maybe not love, but he was your Alpha. You didn't want to change anything about it. "You're my Alpha, and I wouldn't change that for anything. I just don't know what to do to fix this pain," your voice grew distant, eyes gazing away from him.

He cleared his throat, leaning back. "I understand," he whispered. "I just regret what I've done. I didn't mean to hurt you, but I didn't know what to do," you couldn't look at him, the pain in his voice was already hurting you more than him walking out.

"I don't know what to do, either, but we can't keep doing this back and forth. We can't keep running from our problems," he nodded, clearing his throat.

He stood, wiping his hands on his pants. "I'll be in my room, if you need anything," he nodded to Price and walked out. You couldn't say anything, the only thing you wanted to do was climb back into your nest and try and forget everything that happened.

When you got back to your room, you sat on your bed and stared at the clothes from Simon you'd gotten that you'd scattered around the room. You picked them up, folding them and placing them on the desk in the corner of your room, hands not being able to leave the hoodie on top.

It was the most recent clothing item you'd had, and still had traces on his scent over it.

You put it back in your nest.

Tag List:

@sae1kie

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dotster001 · 1 year

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Hi i don't know, if your requests are still open, if not you can ignore it or do it whenever you want.

Just readed your prompt, when reader suddenly passes out with Vil, Jamil, Floyd and Rook. I was wondering, if you could write something similar for Malleus, Lilia and maybe the teachers Trein and Crewel?

(I'm happy you enjoyed those! And I hope you like these too!)

Part One Part Three

CW:Burnout (obviously), mental breakdown/trauma in Trein's part, spoilers for Vargas training camp in Trein's part, injury in Crewel's part

A/N: I've said this in my pin post, but I age up characters to actual college age, because I am in college, and didn't realize until a few months in the characters were not. Everyone here is. 18+ If it makes you feel more comfortable, imagine this as a grad school situation.

He's been pouting a lot lately. Which for a normal person wouldn't be a problem, but Mal's pouting usually meant that the weather was bad as well. He was pouty, because whenever you had time in your incredibly busy schedule to see him, you still had to be working on your homework. With everything Crowley had you do for the school, you had to share your "dragon time" with your "homework time". But your boyfriend looked very cute pouty, so part of you wasn't too upset about it.

Until the day you were so busy with something that you hadn't eaten or slept in over 24 hours and just…collapsed during dragon/homework time.

Malleus immediately panics. He assumes you have had a heart attack and died (Mal…college students are unlikely to have heart attacks) Once he finds a pulse, and sees your breathing, he scoops you up and teleports to Lilia faster than he has ever teleported.

He's sobbing as he answers Lilia's questions, not entirely certain that this wasn't something he did. Lilia easily is able to figure out what has happened, and goes to make you some soup for when you wake up. Malleus is too relieved to think about the fact that while Lilia's soup will have loads of protein, it might send you into shock. In the meantime, he puts a cool cloth on your forehead, and caresses your cheek.

After you wake up and barely survive the soup Malleus spoon feeds you he tucks you into his massive comfy bed (you can't tell me he doesn't have the fluffiest comforters) and then…vanishes.

From here on out, everytime you get a task from Crowley, it's already finished by the time you get around to it. It's weird, but it means you have time to keep homework separate from "dragon time". Which makes a certain fae very happy.

Lilia has spent years learning how to care for humans, especially since most of them *cough* Silver *cough cough* Y/N are not good at caring for themselves. While his recipes are terrible, he is right in some ways about making sure to get all your nutrients. While it can feel a little patronizing sometimes, he is right that you need sleep. While he is a little unorthodox in how he has fun, he's right that you need to have leisure time and do things you enjoy.

What you don't know is that behind the scenes Lilia has already been having regular arguments with a certain Crow about your workload. When two fae fight, it's never good, but you don't have to worry about what's going on.

Azul and the tweels get called back home out of nowhere, and now you're in charge of all the paperwork that he is usually in charge of handling, both for the lounge and for the other Housewarden's. Lilia sees less and less of his sweet human, and he's suspicious part of it is because you are avoiding him, knowing full well he would make you take a break.

He has to admit, your avoiding skills are actually pretty good. So he's not actually there when you collapse. And he's furious. Especially when he finds out that Crowley also decided to add his own paperwork to your ever growing pile. He only knows you collapsed when he hears some randos gossiping about how "the prefect collapsed running laps today, and the idiot duo had to walk them to the infirmary." He's immediately flying to the infirmary, powered by his pure rage.

He knows it's not your fault, especially since you have nothing to your name in this world, so it's easy to manipulate you into this position. So he does his best not to take his anger out on you as he watches you sip apple juice that the nurse gave you, while you do your best to keep your eyes open. Once he is certain that the nurse has things under control, he kisses your forehead, and asks you if you want him to bring you anything.

While he's out getting you a treat, he makes a stop at a certain Crow's office. From here on out you don't see a lot of him. You are a little worried that Lilia may have killed him, but everytime you ask him, he giggles and messes up your hair, before telling you how silly that is.

He's harder on you than he is on most of his students, partially so that no one can claim favoritism, partially because you are just so far behind in history (having it not be your history) that he has to give you extra work and lessons to catch you up. But as a trade off, he tries to be a step ahead of Crowley whenever he can. There's little that happens in the school that he's unaware of, so he's usually able to protect you from his foolish boss.

Until you get sent to the training camp with the sports clubs to assist Vargas. He's furious about this last minute decision, that Crowley conveniently forgot to tell him about, and he's even more angry when he later finds out that you were "kidnapped" and then immediately had to fight a creature in the mines.

Naturally, your mental health is not so great after the trip. He's starting to see it on your face when you both hang out, and even if he didn't, your work for his class is deteriorating, if you even turn it in at all.

Then you break down one day when he asks you about it. He can't understand a word you're saying as you sob and yell and shake. But he's pretty sure he has the idea. You've been pushed too far. He sends Lucius to fetch a nurse or counselor , or heck he's sure even Sam would have something to help you relax enough to just breathe. In the meantime, he wraps his arms around you and tries to walk you through breathing exercises, while whispering some praises to you that you can't comprehend in this state, but appreciate all the same.

After someone gives you a potion that helps you relax a little, he leaves you to rest on his office couch with Lucius in charge, and he holds a meeting with the rest of that staff about what's not appropriate to put people through. (Essentially it's Crewel and Trein yelling at Vargas and Crowley about trauma and what their job is supposed to be)

This never happens again. You continue to have extra work from Trein, but he always ensures he makes time to help you, or give you a soothing tea if he thinks you're starting to drop back into the bad mental state. If you do, he holds you close, and says nothing, while allowing you to spill whatever is plaguing you.

Prior to him dating you, you had denied his request many times to financially sponsor you. Now that you were together, it was harder to come up with an excuse for him not to. So he'd purchased Ramshackle and renovated it. He'd taken up the expenses for your schooling and food (after much argument he'd also taken up Grim's) and after several discussions about the future of your relationship, he'd begun helping you through the process of becoming a citizen in a world that had no proof of your existence (a pain and a half, but there was nothing he wouldn't do for his beloved pup). In doing all this, he'd made it very clear to the Headmage that he had no hold over you, and therefore couldn't coerce you into anything.

Divus knew he was a fool for leaving you alone for a week. He had assumed that Crowley had nothing on you anymore, and that he could go help a smaller fashion designer that showed a lot of promise get their career off the ground. At first he was only going to be gone for a week, but it quickly turned into two, then three. He should have recognized the tension in your voice when you'd asked him over the phone when he thought he'd be back.

When he finally returned, he thought he'd surprise you by showing up where he knew you'd be hanging out with your friends. He'd bought a ring for you that he was particularly pleased with, and he wanted you to have it as soon as possible. His plan was dashed as he watched you collapse into Howl, who immediately started to panic.

With a clear voice Divus took over the scene, picking you up and carrying you to his office where he had all manner of potions. As he pressed one to your lips, he noticed a cast on your arm. He'd ask about it later.

When you woke up, you wrapped your arms around him, and whispered how much you missed him. He asked what happened, and you tell him how you broke your arm in yet another overblot incudent, and had been working like crazy for Crowley to pay off the medical expenses.

You've never been scared of your lover. But his eyes were practically glowing with rage, and now you were starting to wonder if you should be scared. Divus does not accept cruelty to animals or humans. And, he keeps his receipts. It's not long before there's a pretty hefty case and Dire is removed as headmage for coercion and endangerment. After that, there aren't any more overblot incidents and the students seem more mentally healthy. How about that?

He decides to wait to give you the ring until you're fully recovered after everything. But he's certain when he asks you the question that comes with it, you'll have an answer he likes. Especially when you nuzzle into him so sweetly while you nap in his office.

....

Tag list-@shytastemakerthing @stygianoir @leonia0 @lleoll

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia #twst malleus #malleus draconia x reader #malleus #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge #mozus trein x reader #trein x reader #mozus trein #twst trein #professor trein #twst mozus trein

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oneforthemunny · 10 months

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Omg that cowboy!eddie angst!! Now we need a makeup blurb (only if you feel inclined)

I've let you suffer long enough (24 hours) I will be merciful just this once (I can not stand that they're sad either so this is mainly for me lmao) this is the og blurb that is angsty

The knock on your door came two days later. Long enough that your tears had dried, but eyes still puffy. You didn't expect to see him there; band tee tucked into his wranglers loosely, under his buckle. He wore his nice boots, you noted. The ones he wore when he took you out, not his work ones.

Eddie was leaning against the door, his own dark bags under his eyes that even in his shaded profile from his hat, you could see clearly. He hadn't slept much either.

"Can we talk?" Eddie rasped, eyes rounding softly when they met yours. "Please?"

You relented letting him in to your tiny town house. It felt weird staying here for the last few nights. You'd nearly moved to the ranch after the first month of dating. Eddie had begged you to not renew your lease next month, come stay with him instead, you were there so much anyways.

You sat across from him, your dining room table that he'd helped you fix when the leg got loose. Eddie's knee bounced, nervous and overwhelmed. You looked at him, arms crossed over your chest. You were angry, of course you were. Hurt and angry and overwhelmed still.

"I'm sorry." Eddie said, fingers tracing the pattern of the wood, but his eyes stayed on you. "I-I'm sorry."

"Yeah?" You raised a brow, swallowing back the familiar burn of tears. "For what part?"

Eddie flinched at your tone. He knew he deserved it but it still hurt. "All of it, baby." Eddie sighed lowly, defeated and a little sad. It made your heart lurch. "I just... I didn't think that you'd be jeal- mad about Lola."

"Why wouldn't I be?" You snapped, narrowing your eyes at him. "Seriously, Ed, she was all over you!"

Eddie took a deep breath, regulating and calming. "Because," He sighed, knee bouncing a little harder. "I don't like Lola like that. I don't give a shit about her or-or really anyone else for that matter, honey. They're not you, and I only care about you."

Your lip wobbled, tears pricking the back of your eyes. You thought you'd ran out of tears, surely, after crying yourself to sleep the night you left and most of the day yesterday. "She was all over you, Ed." You pouted, voice wobbling around the words. "She was in my seat when I got back, and she was all over you, and you were letting her."

"I know." Eddie sighed slowly. "And I'm sorry, baby, I really am. I just... My mind wasn't on her like that, and-and I shouldn't have gotten mad that you were upset, because honestly? If that was some guy talkin' to you like that and sittin' in my seat... I'd be pretty pissed off too."

Your lips curled lightly, trying to hide your warm, smug grin. Eddie caught it anyways, moving to make his way around the table, crouching next to your chair. "'m sorry, honey." He muttered, hands rubbing up and down the soft fabric of your pajama pants. "I'm real sorry."

"I'm sorry too." Your lip wobbled. "For being so... jealous." You muttered, blushing at the admission. You felt silly, really. A little juvenile for getting so worked up.

Eddie shook his head, a small smile that had his dimples creasing gently. "Don't be sorry." He muttered, cupping your cheek. "Didn't do nothing wrong, baby."

"But I did." You whimpered, lip wobbling. "I shouldn't have been so mean, and-and I'm not like that usually. I don't want you to think I'm like a controlling bitch, I just-"

"Hey, easy, darlin'." Eddie cooed, thumb gliding over your cheek bone. "I know, alright? Let's just put it to rest. I don't wanna fight anymore."

"Me either." You sighed, heavy but relaxed, like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. "I missed you."

"I missed you." Eddie muttered, pulling you closer to him. "Sleep like shit when you're not with me, you know that?" He hummed.

You nodded, your lips barely brushing his before his mouth enveloped yours fully, kissing you hard and slow. Hands roaming each others, feet shuffling and scuffing the floor all the way back to your bedroom. Eddie collapsed on top of you gently, the bed groaning with the squeak of the springs, his hands under your shirt, his boots back under your bed.

#vivisblurbgame #oneforthemunny #munnytalks #cowboy!eddie munson #cowboy!eddie munson x reader #cowboy!eddie

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vldsideblog · 5 months

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vld x pjo au chapter 1

okay, there probably a few typos, but I want to put this here before I put it onto ao3. I also don’t have a title for this au so it won’t be on ao3 till I think of one anyway. Enjoy. it’s a long post, about 3000 words

Shiro was tired. He was tired of feeling alone, he was tired of his low paying job, he was tired of the price of his favorite gas station drink always rising.

The Arizona tea in his left hand was cold against the knit fabric of his gloves, the chill seeping in. He took another swig as he traced his steps from the bus stop back to his apartment. His living space was small, the walls were thin and the heating system barely worked. But Shiro knew it was all he could afford.

He was lucky that he could afford an apartment in his situation.

Not even three months ago his grandmother, his last living family member, had passed. It was a bad fall, no one had expected it. And Shiro was left alone. An eighteen year old who only just finished highschool.

He’d planned on taking a gap year, but with how things were going for him, he severely doubted he’d even be able to attend college. So much for astrophysics.

So he was stuck in a shitty job, in an average town, with a not so average life. Because ever since he was a kid Shiro was fighting for his life, and not in the metaphorical sense. No. In the ‘wild and absurd monsters keep attacking me at random and the only thing that seems to kill them is a baseball bat I found in a parking lot’ kind of way.

And Shiro was exhausted.

Working for a gym definitely hadn't been his first choice of jobs, the floor and air were always sticky with sweat, and he had to wake up early as sin to be on time for his morning shift. But it paid the bills, kinda. Last month he’d also had to pick up a job at a local coffeehouse, with all the college kids studying for their lives, the place was open 24/7. So Shiro worked the night shift. He barely slept anymore due to his schedule.

So he was overworked and miserable, one of the only bright spots in his day being the Arizona tea he bought himself on his way home from the gym. Even as its price hiked over one dollar (a true crime) The sidewalk beneath his sensible hiking boots was slick with wet leaves. It had rained that week, unusual for the area, but appreciated nonetheless. Even if it made things more cold and sad.

Shiro glanced up at the overcast sky, it looked strange. As if he was staring through a warped glass. He could almost swear he saw a misty horse in the clouds.

Either the sleep deprivation was finally catching up to him, or there were more monsters on his tail. It had been a few weeks since he was backed into an alley by a very angry boar. It had taken an hour and a lot of trying to climb dumpsters and apartment buildings to get rid of the thing. Like all monsters he’d encountered, it disappeared into golden dust once he slayed it.

Shiro really hoped it was sleep deprivation. He didn’t have time to fight for his life today. He only had so long to rest before his part of the night shift at the coffeehouse. And he needed the rest.

So he ignored the strange clouds and continued his walk home. He unlocked his rickety door and set down his backpack, content to sleep until his next alarm went off. Shiro finished off his drink and face planted into bed, his muscles screaming at him for daring to use them. Content to ignore the compression brace on his knee, it would hurt when he woke but he didn't care enough to remove it at that moment.

Maybe the slight thrumming in his skull would be gone when he woke up, he was much too tired to scrounge around for headache medicine, he only had so long to sleep before his next shift.

Something was growling into the cold air around Shiro. A fur covered creature of some kind stood in front of his collapsed body. Shiro’s palms were stinging painfully, but he wasn't sure why. He wasn't sure of a lot of things actually.

Like why he was in a dead end alleyway, or why he was on the ground, only propped slightly by the trash bag he was leaned against. ‘Gross, I just showered too.’’

Or why a cloaked figure stood just yards away, purple mist surrounding them, only illuminated by a flickering street light, and the moo. A nails on chalkboard laugh ringing into the night. A dread creeping into his gut.

But what Shiro was most confused about was why the strange creature seemed to be protecting him. It stood a bit over two feet tall, matted tail swinging slowly behind it like a warning. He could tell now that the growling was coming from this animal, and it was directed at the hooded figure.

Only then did Shiro realize the cement below the creature was pooling with red liquid. Blood.

And as the creature lunged forward with a cry, the hooded figure disappeared in a cloud of purple mist. Something Shiro couldn't understand escaping their lips.

He woke with a start, a light coat of sweat sticking to his skin.

He was used to strange dreams, but they only came so often. And tended to prophesize his near future. Once as a child he’d had a dream about lightning flickering in the skies above him. One week later he was struck out of the blue, not a cloud in sight. It was a miracle he survived, and in some kind of medical phenomena, he had almost no lasting damage. The only things he carried from the incident were; a staticy feeling in his body when a storm was near, and the Lichtenberg figure scars arching down his back from the impact spot, only stopping when his spine ended.

So when Shiro had strange dreams, he paid attention to them. As best he could at least, as he only remembered his dreams for so long, rediscovering them only after whatever future he’d glimpsed had happened. So he tended to have a strong sense of deja vu with his life threatening predicaments.

Due to his tired overworked brain, he rarely thought to write his dreams down, truly a testament to the fact that his brain was not fully developed.

So Shiro, sticky with unsettling dream related sweat, turned over in his creaky twin sized bed and closed his eyes, determined to rest until his alarm startled him out of his skin with the first few notes of The Black Parade, (after all a emo phase never truly leaves a person.)

Unfortunately for his dreams of proper fulfilling rest, the sun was hitting the point in its journey across the sky where its blinding rays hit him right in the fucking eyes. No matter how he shifted and squirmed in his sheets he couldn't escape the reminder that he was trying to sleep through the day because he worked the night shift at a coffee house filled with stress ridden collage kids. It was a depressing thought.

So, Shiro kicked off his blanket and rubbed a hand over his tired eyes, trying to erase the sleepiness. He was determined to make it through the day, whatever purple mist and cackling ladies had to say about it. He pushed himself up and set his feet on the floor, hanging his head in exhaustion.

He hobbled his tired bones over to the small kitchen counter of his one bedroom apartment and set a kettle on the stove. Ever since eighth grade he’d been drinking a cup of tea when he woke up, a habit his grandparents had instilled in him. What they didn't need to know was that he was drinking highly caffeinated black tea and not even bothering to remove the teabag after it finished steeping. Or that half the time he didn't even bother with the kettle and straight up microwaved a mug of water.

But thankfully or not they weren't alive to receive that information. But if they had been buried Shiro was sure they’d be rolling in their graves. He smiled a little at that thought, though the grief was still fresh in his gut.

While he sat on the counter reminiscing, the kettle began to whistle and Shiro switched off the stove, watching the steam rise when he poured the boiling water into a mug. A black cat print on a white base, the cat was shooting rainbow lasers out of his eyes. His grandmother had gifted it to him after he came out. He'd always thought it was funny.

A lump formed in his throat as he thought about the good times when his grandparents, his family, were alive. But he shook his head, he didn't have the time to be upset. He was a fully functioning member of society, or at least that's what he told himself to get through the day.

After a bowl of three day old miso soup, and a couple hours watching youtube videos to pass the little spare time he had before work Shiro straightened his wrinkled after nap outfit and slipped his shoes back on. His knee brace was starting to hurt, the leg hairs trapped beneath causing the skin to feel irritated and sore. So Shiro picked at the velcro and tore the thing off, rubbing a hand over his hurting leg, it felt like shit. He really shouldn’t of fallen asleep with it on, much less left it on afterwards. But he was sure it wouldn't be the last time.

Fortunately his headache seemed to have gone away, a break of luck in his shitty last few months. He would take whatever he could get. Besides, he probably had very little headache medicine left, and a trip to the store would only be a hassle for his very little freetime.

But after collecting his things and tucking his knee brace into his backpack, Shiro grabbed his keyring and headed out the door, just in time to catch his bus.

It was still cold and overcast when Shiro stepped out at the bus stop, the bus driving off behind him. The streets were alight with numerous glowing bulbs and small shops getting ready to close at nine. He was ten minutes early as usual, needing the time to clock in and ready himself for the eight hour shift ahead of him.

The clouds were still rolling and warping above, strange shapes forming then quickly dissipating. It was unusual, but once again he chose to ignore the strangeness, if he had to fight tonight he didn't have much choice in the matter. But it would probably be advisable to do it after he got his paycheck.

The Night Owl was warm and welcoming, something Shiro always enjoyed about the small shop. Dim lights hung from the ceiling, mismatched tables and chairs taking up the majority of the floor space. College students were typing away at their laptops greasy hair pulled back into ponytails and stuffed underneath beanies. The smell of coffee engulfed the room, warm and highly caffeinated.

Shiro quietly traded out with a coworker and stored his things away for the night. It was slow, not many people coming in or out. He tried looking busy, slowly washing the few empty cups and plates while his nightshift buddy wiped down a used table.

The ambient music coming from the few speakers in the shop, lulling him into a trance only interrupted by the occasional customer. It was around 2:00 am when something interesting finally happened.

He was making a hot black coffee when someone stepped up to the counter, it took a moment to realize that the person was there. He was short with a mop of tangled black hair and dark eyes the same black brown as Shiro’s own. Three pink scars etched into his cheek, they looked like claw marks, they must’ve hurt like hell. He was young, definitely not older than thirteen, Shiro wondered why a kid was allowed out alone so late, but he wasn't in any position to ask personal questions.

“So, what do you want, kid?” Shiro said not unkindly. A still nagging voice in his head concerned for the child.

“How much does water cost?”

“Twenty five cents,”

“Cool,” The kid dug a gloved hand into the inside pocket of his too big cropped leather jacket. He pulled two out quarters and put one back, it didn't make a clink. He carefully put the coin on the counter, and Shiro felt bad as he put it in the register. From context clues he could guess this was the kid’s only money and he didn't feel great taking it. But it was his job.

“Can I get a name for your order?”

“Uh,” he stumbled a bit. “Keith.”

Weird.

“Okay, thank you. It’ll be out for you soon.” Shiro returned to his coffee making while Keith walked away and took a chair in the corner, his back to the wall as he pulled a book out of the ratty backpack he'd placed on the floor next to him.

Shiro set the finished mug of coffee for his previous customer and called out, “Black coffee for Kayta.” Not waiting for the girl to collect her beverage before he walked into the back room to grab another clear water cup.

Shiro was, to say the least, concerned. A young kid, alone, in the cold city. He had to do something, right? Like, ask if he had a place to stay tonight, no you idiot, if that were the case he wouldn't be in a coffee shop at three in the morning.

Maybe Shiro could give him some money. What money? You can barely afford rent.

Shiro sat down on a crate in the back, the plastic cup in hand, thinking over his decision. His conscience wouldn't let him rest if he ignored this situation right in front of him. His eyes veered to the stock of teabags in a box. I could make him some warm tea, and maybe some food! My manager didn't bother to show up! I can sneak him something. Hell yeah, now that's an idea!

Shiro, now fully ignoring the fact that he could be fired if found out for stealing, began to dig around in the refrigerator for some tamales he could microwave. After choosing his selection of pork tamales and a bag of mandarin spice tea he scooted back to the kitchen to prepare it.

With plate in one hand and his other juggling a mug of tea and a plastic cup of water, Shiro maneuvered through the assorted tables and chairs. The low lighting was making it kind of difficult to avoid tripping on the random charging chords strewn on the floor, but he continued forward. Keith was curled up in his armchair, holding what seemed to be a copy of ‘Werewolves & Other Creatures of the Night.’ an interesting choice Shrio thought. But he was reading shitty vampire romances at around that age so he couldn't judge.

He made the last few steps and made a coughing noise to get Keith’s attention.

“I know you only ordered water, but honestly you seem kinda down on your luck and it's cold outside….” There was a very awkward pause as Keith looked up at him with dark quizzical eyes. “So uh, here. Tamales and some warm tea, also that water you ordered.” Shiro placed the food and drink on the table next to Keith’s chair and stepped back.

“Why?” Keith took hold of his water glass and held it between his hands.

“Cause’ it's fifty degrees outside and you're what eleven?” Shiro said.

“I’m twelve actually,” His face was blank. “Thank you though.”

Shiro smiled in relief. He was able to help the kid somehow at least. “No problem kid, take care.” Shiro nodded his head in acknowledgement and turned back to his job. Keith was in his seat peeling back the husks around his tamales fork at the ready.

The rest of Shiro’s night was uneventful, Keith was still in his chair when he left to catch his bus home. After a forty five minute power nap and another bowl of leftover soup Shiro put his knee brace back on and began to journey to the gym.

The strange clouds were still in the sky, and he once again chose to blame it on the sleep deprivation catching up to him.

He didn’t have time for life threatening emergencies.

That plan went to shit only three days later.

It was Sunday, the one day Shiro had off from work. He’d decided to walk to the nearby grocery store to buy the next week's groceries. It was still cold and cloudy, but the wind had picked up on his way home, and in the sky were flashes of light setting the dim streets alight momentarily.

His hands were cold in their thin gloves, the bags of food straining at his aching fingers. The wind was pushing against his back, almost throwing him to the sidewalk below multiple times. Strangely enough there was no one else on the road. Shiro was the only witness to the strange laughter emanating from the sky. He’d only heard that sound once in his life. On his eleventh birthday, when hot white fire struck him from the heavens.

He’d always thought it must've been the medicine, that's what his grandparents had always told him. But as the wind pushed him towards an alley, and the sky cackled at him, he understood he had lived this before. Something was in the storm, and he had met it before. And he would meet it again very soon.

Something in his breath caught as he tried to wrench away from the tide he’d been caught in, but he couldn't escape. His eyes darted all around, still no one walked the streets. No cars passed by. He was alone.

His body began to freeze, a deep chill climbing his limbs, sinking into his chest. It hurt like needles, like the countless days he spent in pain from an illness doctors didn't understand. And he couldn't scream in pain as he lost the ability to move. His bags of groceries fell to the ground as he was dragged into the secluded alley. A purple haze began to envelope him. The lightning still flickered in the sky, briefly lighting a hunched cloaked figure.

They had an outstretched hand as air beckoning to him, he had a good feeling they were the cause of all this.

“All alone, halfblood?” It was a woman's voice, hoarse and crackly. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you for some time now.”

What the fuck, ‘halfblood’ ‘watching me’?!

“You seem lonely,” The woman tilted her head, talking down to him as if he were a child. “I’m surprised you’re still alive. You must be very strong to make it this far.”

Shiro didn't feel strong.

“I could mold you into something much greater, a hero even. You won't have to feel so alone if you listen to me.” She waved her hands and his right arm regained its independence, “You just have to take my hand Takashi, I promise you will be great.” Beneath her hood Shiro could see her too white teeth, there was blood stuck to her gums, he felt sick.

Why on earth would I make such a deal, I know nothing about this lady, and she's not giving me any information. Besides, what care do I have for being a hero? I just want to survive.

Shiro didn’t move his fist to shake her’s, stubbornly keeping it still as if still frozen.

“Ah, not convinced? I thought you were smarter, young halfblood.”

That word again ‘halfblood’. What does it mean?

“Not to worry, I’ll help you regardless.” Her grin somehow grew wider. She stretched her arm out, just about to grasp his hand when an ear-splitting howl broke the silence.

The clouds parted, making way for the full moon to light the alleyway. In the corner of Shiro’s vision he saw a reddish doglike creature. It lunged towards the woman and the purple mist let go of him, tossing him to the pavement.

All of the sudden he remembered his dream from days ago. And Shiro groaned to himself. It always had to be him didn't it?

#can’t believe it #I got the first chapter done.#please take a chance on this au #it means the world to me #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender #keith kogane #keith voltron #broganes #shirogane takashi #fanfic #vld x pjo au #I don’t think I need to tag this with any trigger warnings #but let me know if I need to

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companylust · 8 months

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@companywrath

After dear old dad had said, "No, Maliwan can't continue to allocate its funds to a seemingly neverending war with Atlas, you couldn't even crush one upstart CEO and I don't support your destiny to be with the love of your life, you're still somehow my least favorite child and you're literally only competing with memories at this point" (or at least, that's how Katagawa heard it), Katagawa was seemingly out of options. He had to lay low for awhile and tend to his wounds. The physical healed quickly, but the emotional... That took longer.

He spent a lot of time alone. He neglected his duties as an executive, delegating enough of it away that it looked like he was still doing something. He broke a lot of pleasure spheres. He tried not to keep an eye on Rhys, telling himself he should move on. That lasted for about twelve hours before it was late at night, the pleasure sphere by itself wasn't doing it, and he knew Rhys' face looking so vulnerable and soft and sweet while he slept was only a few clicks of the ECHO eye away.

After that broke down, Katagawa's addiction was back in full force. He revisited every old interview Rhys had ever done. He reminded himself of all the reasons he loved Rhys. He watched him constantly, day and night, wondering what it would be like if Rhys were dead, and came to one firm conclusion: It was better that he hadn't killed Rhys. Katagawa had just been mad, that was all. They could work things out.

That was the mindset Katagawa was in when it happened.

Of course he'd heard the news that Handsome Jack was back. Everyone in the six galaxies was talking about it. He revealed himself as seemingly back from the dead and immediately took over Hyperion again. The Maliwan board had an emergency meeting immediately after the news broke to discuss how the company would handle Hyperion going forward. Because of this and other stressors, Junior was keeping a feed of Rhys on his ECHO-eye basically 24/7.

He was watching Rhys's office when Jack came in. When... that happened.

What the hell was a dead man doing fucking Rhys?

Katagawa saw red. He jacked off about it constantly for days. He killed a lot of subordinates. Nothing was making it better. He needed answers. He knew any interactions with the CEO claiming to be Handsome Jack should be run past the Board first, but he didn't care. He was doing this.

Under his father's nose, Katagawa used Maliwan's vast resources to find where Jack slept at night. It was a turbomansion on a private Hyperion controlled planet, heavily protected. No big teams were getting in. Luckily, Katagawa was well-versed in slipping past security.

Jack's security was better than Rhys's, but eventually, slowly and so carefully, Katagawa made his way inside. He stood over Handsome Jack laying in his bed, or at least the impostor successfully pretending to be him. The man who had ruled the most profitable company in the universe and killed countless people doing it. The very same man Katagawa had watched on the security footage fucking the only person who mattered in this shithole world.

In repose, he was vulnerable. Everyone was. People looked gentle in their sleep. When Katagawa came close enough to see his face, he realized, of course, Jack didn't sleep in the mask. His bare face was revealed for Katagawa's eager eyes. If this was the real Handsome Jack, Katagawa was now in rare company, one of the few people to see what secret Jack kept behind the mask.

But he wasn't here to wonder at his big nasty scar. He was here to get answers about Rhys. He drew his katana--the most advanced Maliwan tech, with a mononuclear edge that could easily cleave Jack's head off his shoulders. Katagawa held the sharp side to Jack's throat.

"Tell me what you have to do with Rhys."

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morimakesfanart · 2 years

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Sindria's Prophet #25

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20] [21] [22] [23] [24] [Intermission]

[AO3] [wattpad]

*please send Sin to horny jail immediately *HBO's Rome S2 reference *JoJo's reference ~POV Sinbad~ The previous day started with news of his future death, and only ended after Sinbad found a solution. Well... his day outside of his bedroom ended that way. The wave of relief made other pleasures much more enjoyable. He also slept better than normal as a result.

So it was a shame that Ja'far came to wake him at the normal time. Sinbad had Ja'far leave. The woman that took care of him last night would still be waiting in the other room in case he wanted her again. She was taller than the person Sinbad was craving, but that was never a problem for him. And as a King, he shouldn't have to deal with the pitched tent he woke up with alone.

((HBO's Rome S2 reference "I am not leaving this bed until I've fucked someone", the vision with the caption text is on my tumbr))

After cleaning up, getting dressed and saying 'good bye' to the lovely lady, Sinbad finally had the emotional energy to deal with Ja'far's morning rant while he ate breakfast.

"Bla Bla Bla ...meeting with the delegates from Sassan... Bla Bla Bla ...new shipment of spices has been confirmed and is on its way... Bla Bla Bla ..." --- ~POV Mori~ When the maids came with breakfast, I was still asleep. I only had the vaguest of memories of one of them coming in to deliver food and leaving quietly. They were probably still used to when I was sick so couldn't always get to the door on my own and slept all the time.

I pulled myself out of bed. I was half asleep and just as dressed. That must be why I felt the sun on my back so strongly. This country is far too hot for me to manage to sleep clothed consistently. The more conscious I became, the more aware I was of a familiar pain in my gut. It was a good thing I had bought period supplies the previous day. Since I had apparently started already, I finished getting changed before eating my breakfast.

I ended up in the same outfit as the previous evening, but with a tweak. I took two of the clasps from each side of the cover to use to keep the sides of the pants relatively closed. This outfit was definitely comfortable and breathed well, and now it didn't feel as exposing. I could tell that if Sinbad hadn't shown up when he did then I probably would have ended up in this back then. His timing had to have been the Great Flow catering to his desires.

As I ate, the sight of the new scroll kept calling to me. The waves might not be as high as the previous night, but they were still high, and I was not in a position to find out why. I needed the distraction of finishing that scroll so I wouldn't ruminate on things outside of my control. Yesterday, I was swept up in everyone else's waves and had to deal with way too much. But today? Today was for me. It's not like anyone gave me a schedule yet, so it should be fine, right?

Besides, I hadn't hyperfixated on Sinbad or Magi canon in days -the irony of which was not lost on me. I hadn't written or drawn anything in days either. I needed this outlet and after the taste I had the previous night, I wanted more. --- ~POV Sinbad~ The delegates from Sassan had requested this meeting with the Alliance; there had been a cave-in in one of their mines. There were a few deaths, and even more injured, so this was a request for aide, and understanding that they were going to have to drastically cut back on the amount of precious metals they could produce as a result. What was needed from Sindria, and the Seven Sea's Alliance should have been obvious and straight forward, yet an hour later they were still talking in circles.

What aide they could and couldn't give seemed arbitrary to Sinbad, but the Alliance required understanding and acceptance to survive and strengthen. Sometimes negotiating with Sassan was the easiest, and sometimes it was the hardest of all of the countries in the Seven Seas Alliance. All of their religious doctrines meant that there was that much more Sinbad had to keep in mind when suggesting anything. At the same time, those same views said that all Dungeon Capturers were specially chosen by God, and Sinbad had captured 7; they obviously held him in high regard.

If he didn't know better, Sinbad would have thought that the waves were actively encouraging them to drag this out. No, they were intentionally wearing him down; the only question was what were they after? What request did they have that they thought Sinbad would have to be mentally drained to agree to? --- ~POV Mori~ Thinking about making a new Fate scroll reminded me that I thought I saw a hint to the taboo knowledge in the First Fate scroll. Rereading it, I found I had mentioned how Yunan could remember all 9 of his lives, how the Magi were driven to choose Kings by the roll given to their Rukh, and how all of the Kings he chose had tragic ends. None of it directly gave away anything about the Alma Taron stuff, but if Sinbad read about Rukh being given rolls, he'd never believe what I said about free will. I took my ink knife and carefully scraped off that section, before rewriting it in a way that covered up the mistake area and avoided mentioning the Rukh. You could tell that something else had been there once, but the creases from the original text were not deep or consistent enough for someone to read past the new text written on top.

I'd have to be more careful going forward.

I continued the 2nd Fate scroll while I was thinking about it. I had managed to write down everything up until Sinbad leaves Riem to go to Sassan the last time I worked on this. It became a bit scribbly towards the end from how fast I was writing, but I thought it was legible enough. I had only drawn one picture -Harun and Sinbad talking in the pub. I'd illustrate the next parts more. --- ~POV Sinbad~ The stand still in the meeting broke when one of the delegates brought up something unexpected. "We heard that you found a Prophet in Balbadd."

This was why they were being difficult -they wanted access to the Prophet. Sinbad had already been planning how to use Mori's knowledge as bargaining chips with other nations. She clearly knew when to hold her tongue, but he still needed time to talk to her about how much she could say to help other countries. She was *his* Prophet after all.

It seemed like the King's Generals hadn't shared the contents of Mori's visions with the delegates from their home countries -they were proving their loyalty to him yet again. If the various delegations had learned about the 2 Calamities there would be no way they wouldn't have confronted him about it directly. Instead, the people from Sassan were using news of a personal tragedy to confirm Mori's existence.

"It's true." There was no reason for Sinbad to deny it. It was only a week until her official announcement anyway. "And I can vouch for the legitimacy of her visions."

They talked amongst themselves, and then one asked, "Would we be able to speak to the Prophet? If she has truly been blessed by God then we would like to learn what she has seen in her visions. I'm sure that sharing this blessing with us would negate any other issues."

There it was.

Sinbad gave his answer with a smile. "I plan on formally introducing her to everyone soon. I can make sure you'll be the first to be able to speak to her."

With that positive answer they were far more amicable during the rest of the negotiations. --- ~POV Mori~ This was definitely some kind of self indulgent fanfiction because how else had I gotten an entire scroll written and drawn by the time I finished lunch? I had finished all of the Sassan and Artemyra arcs. This was the true definition of wish fulfillment.

I grabbed the practice scroll; I had to be sure. I drew something quickly then dipped the pen back into the ink. I intentionally didn't let the excess drip off. Instead, I flicked it towards the drawing and sure enough: I had made a mess; I was in fact not an art god like Rohan Kishibe even in fanfiction. I had just wasted precious ink, but at least I used my scrap paper to do it. With that experiment of pure stupidity behind me, and my curiosity satisfied I decided it was time for a break.

((JoJo's reference, manga panels redraw))

My back was killing me after sitting in the same position for so long. I had been doing leg swings to help counter it, but I hadn't managed to do them every 30 minutes like is recommended. I stretched until my joints stopped crackling and my muscles stopped straining.

I looked back at the table with my supplies. This wouldn't be much of a distraction if I was writing one of the arcs I was trying not to think about, and I was coming up to the Slave arc. When Sinbad had asked me directly if the painful events of his past could have been avoided, I answered him on a technicality. With his over confidence and hubris he'd never make a different choice unless something major had changed. Sinbad doesn't listen to anything that tries to humble him unless he's already experiencing self doubt. Ja'far and the other Generals were blind to a lot what Sinbad was doing, but even when they did recognize what was going on and tried to talk to him, the conversations always ended with Sinbad being supported regardless of his decision. It didn't make sense that I would be able to make him see reason when no one had been able to in the original. I'm just one person. And yet, the waves had changed while and after I talked with King Sinbad. I was clearly doing something right. Was there anything more self indulgent than causing a paradigm shift in a problematic fave? But was this change really for the better? The waves were still on the high side. Just like last night, I couldn't think of anything I did that could have led to this shift. I closed my eyes and took a slow deep breath. What was the direction these waves were headed? Did this mean he wouldn't reach the same heights, or that he would go even farther? --- ~POV Sinbad~ King Sinbad went over some documents at his desk while he let the back of his mind ruminate about Sassan's request. He knew they would request this eventually which is why he had already made plans for when and where to introduce the Prophet of Sindria to the Seven Seas Alliance. The medical knowledge she shared with them was going to be worth a lot to Heliohapt which prided itself in having the best medicine in the world. Sinbad doubted he could appease Sassan with some science Mori might know. They wanted to hear the "word of God" so nothing short of her knowledge of Fate would satisfy them.

Mori was bound to have knowledge of the past and future that would fulfill their request, but it didn't sit right with Sinbad. He had come to recognize her pattern of hinting about things to lead others to whatever conclusion she wanted. If Mori doesn't give him more information than she gives Sassan, then guessing what she's planning would be more difficult.

The waves caught Sinbad's attention and drew his gaze to the wall of windows right of his desk. Maybe he had been working too long. After pushing his seat away from the stacks of papers, the King walked to the windows to look out at the rest of his Palace. The sky came into view and then the green domes of the Palace followed the white stone holding them up. From his office windows, Sinbad could see a few of the other Towers including the Green Sagittarius Tower. --- ~POV Mori~ The waves washed over me as I stared out the window. This was really nice actually. But this was fanfiction. This peace was either being juxtaposed to someone else experiencing the opposite, or it was the calm before the storm. Or both.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

"'Speak of the devil."' I turned towards the source.

Ja'far's voice called for me through my door. "Lady Prophet." He waited for my answer. The waves started to move in his direction.

I did a quick scan of my space to make sure it wasn't too messy outside of the table, and out my cover back on before opening the door. "Hello. Does this mean his Majesty wants to continue the conversation from yesterday?" Given how things had ended this was the only reason I could think of.

Ja'far had a friendly tone and expression. "Actually, he-" The General blinked down at me. His eyes scanned my clothes and focused on the lilac cover. "Where did you buy purple clothes?"

uh oh. I did not like the implications of that. "Pisti picked them out at most of the stores we went to. She said it was okay..." I had made a terrible mistake.

"'Most?'"

I felt like I was caught red handed and needed to defend my actions even knowing I did nothing wrong. "At most of the stores Pisti would find something purple and even sent some items to get dyed and it's my favorite color so..." Saying it out loud made me realize just how much she had set me up. There were no purple options until she pulled them out.

Ja'far's polite customer service expression fell completely and I felt like humanity existing at all in any universe was a mistake. "You were wearing this yesterday, weren't you?" He sounded so tired. I guess we weren't around each other last night for long enough for the color to sink in. His focus was mostly on SInbad anyway. "Yes." I wanted to cry. "I need to cancel everything that Pisti sent to get dyed, don't I?" I was only going to be allowed to wear purple in my room. This was my fanfiction! Stupid Sinbad hogging my favorite color all to himself. "I should've listened to my intuition. 'Thought it seemed weird." I couldn't hide my disappointment if I tried.

Ja'far softened. "It's not your fault. Pisti is a known trouble maker." He looked to the side with a grimace. "I will deal with this later."

"Do I need to change?"

He thought about it. "Do you have any outfits that aren't purple?"

Fuck. "Not really, no."

The General let out a very exasperated sigh.

I ran behind my changing wall, pulled my uniform jacket out of my chefferobe, and put it over what I was wearing. "Is this better?"

After another scan of my person, answered, "I suppose."

#magi prophet fanfic #sinbadxoc #sinbad x oc #king sinbad #sinbad magi #magi sinbad #magi fanart #magi fanfiction #oc #jojos reference

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natalie-the-writer · 2 years

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Hey y'all! This is another fanfiction based around Ugly Dolls, the movie, and very Lou-centric with most the other characters added in. Pieces of this were inspired by https://0perfectimperfections0.tumblr.com/ and it's a continuation of my story which is also a continuation of hers. It's linked in this post - should be in a giant box. Hopefully.

Anyway, here's the story I spent the last 24 hours writing

Nap Time

"Lou, it's almost two o'clock. You know the deal," Nolan stated, crossing his arms. He knew this would be a fight since the blonde doll had hid from him for the last thirty minutes, moving from place to place. He was agile and slick when he needed to be, but Nolan eventually did find him helping Wage out in the restaurant. The brunette had approached Lou early just to keep an eye on him until his new 'nap time' came. He didn't exactly expect a game of hide and seek with Lou slipping off into the crowd the second they locked eyes.

This was the first day the nap rule had been truly put into place. Up until a few days ago, Lou spent quite a few hours of the day sleeping off the last of his sickness and exhaustion. When he was awake, he stayed in Moxy's house, doing activities that required little to no energy as he healed, with them all spending more time with the blonde to get to know the true Lou. When his house was finished (something he'd been so happy about), he slept there, with someone always nearby to keep an eye on him. In the last three days, he'd tried to spent less time sleeping and more time out and about, working where he could, causing his friends to truly implement the naptime rule. It was good that he was trying, but he also had a track record of sleeplessness.

"Do I have to acknowledge that deal?" He asked as he put away dry dishes. Lou may not have been on janitor duty anymore, but he seemed to like helping Wage out. That wasn't one of his duties as former janitor, so maybe that was a part of it. Or maybe he liked to clean as long as he wasn't forced to. Wage was currently watching them out the corner of her eyes as she cleaned off a counter, business currently in a lull.

Nolan sighed exasperatedly. "Yes, you do."

"I'm in denial then."

"Isn't that still acknowledging but not believing?" Nolan asked, tilting his head to the side as his slight frustration quelled. He didn't exactly want to play twenty questions with the blonde, but they weren't getting anywhere at the moment. And why would Lou just agree? No one he knew liked a forced naptime. Lou likely hadn't taken a nap before unless it was out of sheer exhaustion - it likely went against his programmed perfectness.

The thought made the usually gentle doll want to punch whoever made Lou feel that way. At least give them a good talking to.

"Maybe. Same difference." He dried a plate, turning away slightly. Nolan leaned forward automatically to see him trying to cover up a little yawn and a small smile spread across his face. 'He's tired, but won't admit it.' Stubborn Lou. The green striped doll moved back to his original stance as his friend turned back to him. "Are you just going to stand there or what?" Months ago, there would've been bite to his voice. A snark that came from protecting himself and putting forward confidence. Now it was only playful, with a bit of exasperation mixed in.

An idea formed in Nolan's head as he sighed. "So you're not going to go to bed willingly?"

"What does it look like?" He asked, nose scrunching as his mouth turned down. "Absolutely not. I don't need a nap. I'm not about to swan dive again." He rolled his eyes, visibly holding back another yawn.

"Alright," Nolan shrugged, trying to imitate Lou's nonchalance. He didn't play it off well, judging by how the other's eyes narrowed on him. "You win, but you're going to bed tomorrow."

Lou scoffed, turning away again. "Unlikely."

'We'll see,' Nolan thought, heading out of the kitchen. He met Wage as she came toward him, holding a stack of plates. He subtly tilted his head, muttering to her as he passed. "Keep him here. I've got an idea." He wasn't as dumb as most dolls thought he was. Sure, he could be oblivious, but he wasn't stupid. He knew exacy how to get Lou to bed.

Wage nodded, a small smile on her face. "Will do," she whispered back, carrying the apparently dirty plates through the door to where Lou was.

As soon as he was outside the little restaurant, he hustled to where he last saw Babo, the large grey Ugly who was very nice and had the strength Nolan needed right now. He found him not far from town square, strolling down the sidewalk, whistling a merry tune. "Babo!" Nolan called, stopping the doll in his tracks.

"Hey Nolan, what's going on?" Babo asked as the brunette stopped, slightly bent over as he panted.

Once he got his breath back, he said, "I neds to ask you for a small favor."

_________________

"Put me down!"

Lou struggled against the soft arms holding him in the air, ignoring how they made him feel a a bit safe and warm despite his fighting. He didn't know Babo as well as some others, but the doll was very resourceful and overall nice. 'Not exactly nice now,' he thought, crossing his arms over his chest in a disgruntled pout, slowly coming to realize he couldn't fight off the doll's hold. The bigger doll had him held in his arms securely, one hooking under his legs and the other behind his back. His side was pressed against his chest, something he wouldn't admit felt comfortable.

"Sorry, Lou," Nolan said where he was walking slightly ahead of him. He looked over his shoulder almost apologetically, and Lou sent a little glare at him. He wasn't mad persay, but he didn't like this. He knew he needed sleep, but that didn't mean he wanted it. In the middle of the day. It felt wrong. It felt weak. It felt imperfect. As much as everyone told him he didn't have to be perfect, his programming, his thoughts, the last decade of heartache told him that's exactly what he was supposed to be. It was perfection or failure. "It's for your own good. You're exhausted, and no one wants you to work yourself into a 'swan dive.'"

Lou grumbled, but couldn't find a competent defense. He was just so tired and the longer he stayed against this fluffy mass and felt the gentle bobbing of footsteps carrying him, this... safety, the more he wanted to give into the urge and sleep. He looked away from Nolan to the sky, pointedly ignoring them all as he traced the shapes of clouds with his eyes, feeling his eyelids and body grow heavier the longer he stayed here....

He wasn't entirely sure when it happened, but he dozed off. His woke up a little when they came to a stop, eyes opening slightly. They were at his house, a nice little cottage toward the end of town with different colored flowers surrounding it, courtesy of his new... friends. That's what they were. Nolan was using the key from under the mat to get inside. His eyes fell shut again and he absentmindedly realized Babo's arms had tightened around him a little. The blonde's head was rested against his chest, and he could hear the stuffing inside shifting, along with a faint heartbeat. They all had hearts, even if they weren't like human hearts. The steady thumping lured Lou back toward blissful sleep, the feeling only increasing when they stepped into his warm house - absolutely nothing like the drab, thin-walled shed he'd been confined to before or his lonely mansion.

Babo carried him up the stairs slowly. When he jostled him on accident near the top, there was a whispered "sorry, Lou" that made his heart clench. He wasn't used to this whole being apologized to thing. He wanted to reply, but everything felt peacefully heavy and uncooperative, including his mouth which refused to work with his brain. He did manage to press further up against Babo, which he hoped was enough to convey his... gratitude? Was that the right word? There was a small sigh that almost sounded fond or amused.

A few moments later, they made a turn. Lou didn't feel like exerting the strength to open his eyes to see where they were, but it didn't take much of a genius to guess. His bedroom. A place that was no longer basic and plain with walls that closed in on him at night. There was dark hardwood for the floor and blue walls that Mandy said matched his eyes, two bookshelves that weren't full of teaching manuals and textbooks (those were in the basement, collecting dust), a desk for him to write and draw as he pleased, and three windows so the place felt way more open. There were other random nick nacks, too, gifts from the dolls that were either store bought or handmade, such as his snow globe, photo album, and the teddy bear Nolan made for him - he was quite the tailor and stuffed animal maker. All those things sat on the top shelves of his book cases, along with the other random gifts that made him cry happy tears and feel all warm inside.

"Think he'll wake up to change into pajamas?" Nolan whispered. Lou could sense him nearby, possibly only a few inches away.

Babo chuckled a little, his chest rumbling against Lou's ear. It was comforting. "I don't think he'll wake up completely for anything short of a fire right now. Let's just get him out of his jacket and shoes, then tucked into bed."

"Good idea."

He was shifted slowly and carefully to sit on his bed - a bed that wasn't too big or too small, covered in weighted, comfortable blankets that swaddled him in a hug every night. He used blankets like them back in his mansion to try and feel a little less alone, but now, as they were gifts from friends who worked so hard to get this place together for him of all people, they felt like actual hugs.

His head hung forward, gently cradled by Babo's bigger one to keep him in place as Nolan pulled his suit jacket down his shoulders, leaving him in his white button up. The blankets shifted and he was picked up again, only to be laid down in a bed. His shoes were tugged off and the blankets came to rest over his body, sealing him inside the warmth of his body and heart. He could open his eyes right now, show them he's awake, and tell them they shouldn't do this. He didn't need all this coddling, all this carrying, all this care. Perfection meant standing on your own.

But he wanted all of this. He wanted to feel the love they were giving him now. The care of friendship, something he'd had so little of in the last decade being trapped in this doll prison, teaching dolls only to watch them disappear forever to a world he couldn't reach. But it wasn't a prison anymore. He had friends. Dolls came and went as they pleased through the portal - except for him, but that didn't feel like such a big deal anymore. Yes, he wanted a kid, like all dolls did, but the love he always wanted... he thinks he had that now. The love of friends.

A hand gently patted his shoulder through the blanket. "Have a good rest, Lou," Babo whispered. "You deserve it. Sleep tight." Quiet footsteps were the only sound as the grey doll left the room.

A shifting on his right side told him Nolan was still there. Through his eyelids, he could tell that the blinds had been shut, dimming out the light in the room. A little, contented sigh escaped him, his whole body completely laxing out as sleepiness surged forth, wrapping his conciousness up in a warm embrace. He really was tired. More tired than he thought. He'd spent the day just walking around Imperfection after waking up early, ignoring the last dregs of his sickness and exhaustion trying to take him under. His breathing still felt a little funny and his head hurt at random times, but he brushed that aside. A headache didn't warrant staying in bed.

For the last few days, he'd been trying to improve his image in the eyes of other dolls by working and offering to help. He was aware Ox already told everyone he was off janitor duty, but Lou really did like to clean. It was a pastime where he could focus on scrubbing and sweeping instead of his thoughts, along with doing something productive. Many dolls were wary, yes, and gave him glares or sent harsh words his way that had his newfound friends at his side to pull him to another part of the place, glaring daggers back at the offending doll. (It was comforting to be protected, but he didn't want to get back into good graces through force.) However, some dolls did accept his help, if cautiously. Wage was the first to truly warm up to him, and he helped her out in the diner a lot.

But now, all of that labor was taking its toll on his body. He'd forced himself to sleep less, to try and be normal, be perfect, and it was backfiring on him. To be fair, it didn't backfire terribly. Not with his friends around. Suddenly tired of thinking, Lou snuggled further down into the blankets and pillows, listening as Nolan came to sit on the bed beside him. The doll's hand rested on Lou's back and he almost tensed up.

"Hey Lou," Nolan whispered. "I don't know if you can hear me or not, but I just wanted to say... you're okay. Naps don't make you weak, if that's what you've been thinking. We all need time to rest, and your body and not to mention your mind need a lot of time to heal. It's not going to happen in a night but... it'll get better. I promise." His hand rubbed a soothing motion across his shoulders and back, causing Lou to sink further down into his now calm mind, his worries put to rest by someone he could call a friend, maybe even a best friend. Maybe... maybe... eventually... a family member.

He fell asleep to Nolan humming a quiet tune, wrapped in comfort that wasn't just physical. He was safe. He was home.

He was okay.

_______________

"How's he doing?"

Nolan looked up to see Ox peeking into the room, a small smile on his face. The brunette couldn't help but smile back, beckoning him inside with his hand. He was sitting on the edge of Lou's bed, hand rested on his shoulder. "Been out like a light for almost an hour." He chuckled breathily. "And he said he wasn't tired."

The green doll let out a little laugh himself, closing the door quietly before stepping up to the other side of the bed. Nolan glanced down at the sleeping figure. His blonde bangs were astray, falling over his closed eyes, and one of his hands had reached out from under the blanket, held in a loose fist. He'd curled in on himself in his sleep, lying on his side, and his breathing was steady, if a little wheezy at times. The exhaustion and following sickness hadn't entirely left him, but at least he was sleeping now. Entirely peaceful. His face was lax in a way that somehow made him look younger, so much more innocent. Like he hadn't gone through near ten years of torment.

Ox gently pushed the bangs away with a furred hand. Lou moved a little, eyebrows coming together in confusion before relaxing again. It was frankly adorable. "Like this... he looks like the old him."

"What do you mean?" Nolan asked, equally quiet. He knew of the past between Lou and Ox, how they were brothers until the betrayal on both ends, but not many specific details.

"He was so innocent back then. He'd been running this place for two years when I came along. As much as he taught me for the Big World, he learned from me." His eyes were glazed, looking off to the far wall at something Nolan couldn't see. A memory he couldn't experience. "Lou... he knew everything to do with dolls and teaching, but not the more personal words. Like friendship. Watching him figure it out, try to decipher it... it was as endearing as it was heartwrenching." He sighed and muttered something Nolan didn't think he was supposed to hear. "If I'd known everything going on in his head, all he would face, all he really knew, I would never have left."

Nolan didn't know what to say to that, so he did what he thought was best. With the hand that wasn't on Lou, he reached out and patted the bunny's shoulder. "You're here now. We're here now. We'll help him."

Ox's smile was fragile, but there. His eyes shone with determination. "That's right. He's got us, whether he likes it or not."

Lou shifted a little and Nolan drew his hand away from Ox, watching the former leader's eyelids flutter open a little, sapphire eyes groggy from deep sleep. They moved about lazily, meeting Nolan's eyes first, then Ox's. "Ox?" He questioned quietly, voice slurred with sleep. He had another hour before he needed to wake up, and Nolan really didn't want him to get up before he got his necessary sleep. He sent a panicked look to Ox, but the doll wasn't deterred at all. He climbed up onto the bed to sit beside Lou, resting a hand on the top of his head.

"Yeah, I'm right here and so is Nolan. Go back to sleep, buddy, you're safe." Ox said reassuringly, putting his other hand gently on Lou's rising and falling chest. "I promise. It's not time for you to wake up an' you need every ounce of sleep you can get. Dreamland time, okay?"

Lou stared up at him for a moment. Nolan's heart hammered in his chest, fueled by the worry Lou would disregard them and get up anyway. His worries were put to rest when he nodded dazedly and his eyes fell closed, head turning to lean more into Ox's hand. His breathing deepened out again after just a moment. Asleep. Nolan looked at the other doll in wonder.

"A little bit of assurance goes a long way," Ox said quietly, a soft smile on his face as he stared down at Lou. His brother. Nolan had the vague feeling that Ox had done this before to get Lou to sleep, maybe said those exact words. He swallowed down the questions burning in his mind and nodded, giving the older doll a soft smile that was returned.

Questions could wait for another time. Right now, Lou was sleeping peacefully with them to guard him. That's all that mattered right now.

_______________________

Lou's sickness had returned with a vengeance.

It wasn't serious, definitely not as bad without the exhaustion coupled with it, but Lucky Bat stayed around when he could, keeping close tabs on Lou's temperature and the severity of his headache. He slept now, curled up in his bed with dolls alternating a watch over him because Lou would try to get out of bed of they didn't. They'd gotten him changed into green silk pajamas, one of his favorite colors, and tucked into bed as soon as the sickness became apparent, but he was stubborn no matter what. If if hadn't been for an equally as stubborn doll being there to figure out what was wrong, he would've kept going and made the illness worse.

And who was that stubborn doll exactly? Well, it happened to be Mandy who caught on to Lou's declining health. She was currently sitting beside his bed in the armchair the dolls had hauled up from the living room, adjusting the cold rag on his forehead as he slept on. Night had fallen over the town and her child was asleep, her emotions dormant in the back of Mandy's mind. She wouldn't be needed for hours, and she planned to stay with Lou for all of it.

"Oh Lou," she whispered to her new friend, feeling her worry rise with every wheeze of his breath. "What are we going to do with you?" She settled back into the chair and tilted her head up, looking to the ceiling as she recalled when she figured out her friend was less than healthy....

Mandy had asked Lou to come over and help her rearrange her bedroom. Again. It wasn't much - just the desk and some things on the shelves. She couldn't seem to get it how she wanted it herself, so she texted the blonde for two reasons. One, to spend more time with him. Two, because he had an eye for decoration and organization. He'd replied almost immediately, appearing at her door ten minutes later. As soon as she opened it, he was rambling about furniture placing and the types of organization. She'd just laughed, let him upstairs, and let him go wild with what he thought. It was nice to see Lou so carefree. When in his element, he was truly confident in his actions and words, careful in every little detail. She helped where she could, including moving the desk vanity, and then let him do his thing with the shelving. By the end, it looked amazing. Exactly how she wanted yet couldn't articulate.

"Lou, this is awesome!" She'd said, moving around the room and admiring all the effort he'd put into reorganizing shelves. They'd hung her unused fairly lights as well, fixing up her bedroom with colorful lighting. If she'd been paying more attention to him then, she might've taken more notice in how he wiped his brow despite the AC going on full blast, or seen the slightly off sway to his usually so graceful and fluid walk. The one only Lou could truly master and pull off.

"Of course it is," he'd said, all playful confidence. It was getting easier to differentiate in his tones after three weeks of being his friend. "I have a mind for organization."

She'd chuckled. "You sure do." Mandy moved over and grabbed his hand, a gesture they all sometimes did with each other and especially Lou. He wasn't used to much physical affection, and hand holding was easing him into it, letting him known he had people around. It especially helped when they wanted to do something for him, but he didn't want to be entirely compliant. "Let me make you some tea. Moxy also made cookies yesterday - I need you to try them for another opinion." That's how they offered Lou things. He didn't want to take it often if it was offered directly, but phrased as something else? He'd accept majority of the time.

This time wouldn't be so easy. His brow scrunched up and a nervous flicker went through his eyes. "I really need to be going. I have some organizing to do at my house, too."

"Then I'll come with you. Four hands is better than two." She could see his hesitation. Lou worried he asked too much sometimes. She tightened her hold a little in a small squeeze. "I won't go if you don't want me to, but I'm offering. I want to help." She beamed at him. He returned it, if in a smaller smile. Progress.

"Okay then. We can... head over to my house." If she hadn't been so excited, she might have noticed the way his words wavered. Not because of nerves, but because of lack of focus. She released his hand and hurried down stairs, Lou taking them slower behind her, and packed up the cookies in a bag quickly. With a backpack full of notebooks, hair supplies, and cookies on her shoulder, she met Lou at the doorway. "Ready."

He gave her a smile that looked a bit tired, opening the door. She walked out beside him, watching his face from the side. In the light of the sun, he looked a bit tired and worn. What time was it? She glanced at her watch. Only twelve. It wasn't time for his scheduled nap yet. Did he stay up late last night? Get up too early? Have a nightmare and not tell anyone? Silently, she promised herself to get him to rest a bit early.

They reached his house soon enough. If she hadn't been looking at the pretty flowers that they had growing outside, she might have noticed how he struggled with getting his key in the lock, hand shaking. He got it open the moment she looked back, taking an exaggerated bow. "You first," he said cheekily.

With a playful eyeroll, she walked in, flicking his bangs in his face as she strolled by. He let out a little huff of breath but didn't try to fix it, walking in after her. More progress on convincing him that nothing was entirely perfect, she thought. They went to his kitchen first. It didn't look very used, but she often saw him at Wage's diner. Did he even know how to cook? She'd have to ask, maybe ask Moxy if he could join them in baking sometime. Mandy didn't know much herself, but Moxy liked to bake sweets and some other meals that tasted absolutely divine.

She settled the cookies on a plate, placing most in a careful stack that she hoped he'd appreciate. The others circled around the stack, either flat on the plate or leaned up against it. Presentation was key. Smiling, she turned back toward where Lou was. "Ready to try some great cookies- Lou!" Her smile instantly fell when her eyes landed on him, leaned up against the door frame with his arms wrapped around himself. She launched forward, reaching him just as his knees buckled. The female doll caught him and instantly pulled him to where his head rested on her shoulder. When the skin of her neck met his forehead, she could've cursed. He was burning up.

After a few seconds, he tried to get away from her, eyes zoned out and blinking rapidly. "S-sorry." A shiver swept through him. She pulled him back to lay against her, wrapping her arms around him. He struggled a little, but his strength was that of a kitten. "Mandy-"

"You have nothing to apologize for, Lou." She whispers, meeting his gaze with her own. She removed one of her arms to press the back of her hand against his forehead to better gauge his temperature, surprised and endeared to feel him lean into the touch. "Just tell me when you're feeling sick, okay?"

He didn't agree, but he rested more heavily against her, burying his face into her chest. It was as much as she would be able to get from him right now. Trying to quell her worry, she pulled one of his arms to wrap around her neck, then adjusted her position to pick him up, one arm under his knees and the other supporting his back. He made a muffled sound at being moved, but nothing else. She walked to the couch and settled him down on it, moving to sit so he could rest his head on her lap. Another shiver caused him to curl in on himself, and she grabbed the folded red blanket off the back of the couch, spreading it out over him. "Thank you." He muttered.

She ran a hand across his cheek, letting it trail into his hair. "Let's just get you feeling better." She whispered. "Why didn't you say anything?" Her question was gentle, carefully devoid of any accusation.

His eyes were half lidded as he answered. "I thought... I thought it would go away. I didn't sleep that much last night. I thought that was why." He squeezed his eyes shut and a hand clenched around her heart. "I... It wasn't this bad at your house, I swear, it happened so fast-" he was getting frantic. She shushed him, running a hand through his hair.

"It's okay. Just rest."

He blinked up at her owlishly. He was definitely pale faced except for the pink hue beginning to cover his cheeks. How did he get so bad so fast? She had to guess that part of it was his showmanship. He was definitely an actor when it came to playing the role of himself. Looking at him nowadays and a few months ago, she saw two different people. One was created due to a need for protection and perfection. Now he used his automatic showmanship to cover up his hardships, sometimes without even knowing it. He could act for them, but also for himself, and that made her heart hurt. After a long moment, he nodded. "I'm... tired."

She trailed her hands through his hair, trying not to show the worry that was coursing through her. "Then sleep. You'll feel better when you wake up." She hoped he would. Lack of sleep from the night before could play a factor in this downturn.

"Okay," he whispered, voice a little raspy. She wished she'd gotten some tea in him before, but too late now. His eyes slipped shut and a minute later his body slackened except for the occasional shudder. After she was sure he was deep asleep, away from his currently less than desired reality of being ill once again, she pulled her phone from her back pocket and texted the group chat about the situation. She didn't know much about treatment - that was Lucky Bat's area - and didn't think it would be safe to carry him to his bedroom by herself. The others would want to know about this, too.

It wasn't long before Ox and Lucky Bat appeared, bursting through the doorway as silently as possible. Ox immediately came to kneel by his brother, eyes wide with worry. Mandy could only share the look.

Hours later, they had him situated on his bed after Babo carried him up. They'd all done their share of fussing over blankets, Lou's hair, checking temperatures with their hands, fluffing pillows - everything. Most of them had to disappear to go to their kids after school got out, but Lou was never alone. It was Mandy's watch now, half the others asleep downstairs ans the other half with their night owl children. She sighed into the air, folding her hands together.

"Mandy?"

The quiet whisper caught her off guard and she jerked, glasses going askew. She fixed them and found Lou's eyes half open, looking at her with a gaze that wasn't fever layered. Instantly, she reached out to touch his neck and cheek. Cool as a cucumber. Relief ran through her and she let out a small laugh, scooping Lou up into a hug before she could think about what she was doing. After a moment of hesitation that she hoped was from her sudden action and not anxiety, his arms wrapped around her, his head finding its place on her shoulder. "I was so worried." She said quietly. "We all were."

"You all are a bunch of worry warts," he muttered, followed by a small chuckle. "Not actual warts, by the way."

She smiled. "I know."

They stayed like that for a minute, wrapped up in a hug that neither tried to pull away from. Another improvement on physical affection. If she were an actual doctor, she'd give Lou a prescription for hugs and affection. He'd missed out on it for most of the last decade and had his heart torn to shreds a million times over. Subconsciously, she held him closer and adjusted the blanket to still be around him.

It was him who broke the silence. "I didn't get any of those cookies." His voice was sleepy, content. He'd been sleeping for nine hours, but sickness really took it out of a doll.

She giggled. "I'm sure Moxy will make you a whole batch after this."

He hummed, not saying anything more. Mandy shifted to see his face and could only hold back a fond laugh. He'd fallen asleep with a smile on his face. "Goodnight, Lou," she whispered, placing him back on the bed. When he shifted back toward her, smile falling momentarily, she got into the bed beside him and wrapped her arms around his torso, curling up around him. He relaxed, smile returned, and slept, forehead against her chest and shoulders. His fluffy hair tickled her nose and she had to move her chin up so she wouldn't sneeze.

With limited movement, she pulled out her phone and texted with one hand, updating the others on how Lou woke up for a minute and his fever had broken, shortly followed by a photo of the two of them. She received no reply except the sound of quiet footsteps moving up the stairs. Soon, the dolls were surrounding the bed, relieved smiles all around. She smiled back, then her eyes zeroed in on Moxy. "He wants to try your cookies."

"I'll make him a ton," the pink doll whispered back as they all climbed onto the bed into a close doggie pile, Babo sitting near the top to keep watch. Lou shifted to snuggle down deeper into the warmth and arms around him.

A couple minutes later, different breathing patterns evened out into sleep, but Mandy was still awake. She leaned forward a little to press a kiss against Lou's forehead. "Sweet dreams, Louis."

She fell asleep beside him.

______________________

"He's completely out."

Ugly Dog found himself whispering that as he looked at Lou's face. The blonde was asleep for his nap time again, the day after sickness tried to drag him down. It had been a sudden turn that made them all worried, but he'd mostly bounced back after a couple of hours. He'd been confined to bed all morning under Lucky Bat's orders, which had made Lou pout, but they'd all played games with him that weren't taxing. They went through rounds of checkers (Lou won most the time due to his intelligently strategic mind, but Moxy got one over on him due to creativity and unexpectedness), charades, eye spy - everything they could think of to keep Lou from getting bored. It worked. In fact, it worked so well that they all got caught up in the games to the point where they missed the first hour of Lou's initial naptime.

But now, with no one but the two smaller dolls here, he'd managed to fall asleep roughly fifteen minutes ago. His breathing was deep and without much of a wheeze now, but before he went to sleep, Lucky Bat asked him questions about how he felt. Lou had tentatively admitted that his head still hurt at times. He'd went to sleep shortly after.

Lucky Bat came over with a cool, damp rag held on his wing. "Yeah, he is." He whispered back, hopping up onto the bed. He placed the cloth along Lou's forehead. "This should help with the headache. A bit more sleep and he should be good to go. He'll just have to take it slow for a little while." He jumped back down. "I'm going to go get some water from the kitchen for him. Stay here?"

"Of course." Ugly Dog nodded and watched as his friend left, then looked back at Lou. He'd turned a little in his sleep, knocking the rag off in the first few seconds it had been in place. With a fondly exasperated huff, the dog doll jumped on the bed. He used his paw to fix the cloth and went to jump off, only for a weight to land on his back. Lou's arm was slung over him as he'd turned over again. This perplexed him. All the times he'd seen Lou sleep, he hadn't moved around so much. He stayed near stock still, only moving to curl in on himself or press against someone else. When he experimentally tried to move away a little, Lou didn't budge his arm.

'Guess I'm staying here for a little bit,' he thought, settling down on top of the blankets. He looked at Lou's face again. 'We severely misjudged him. He's good at his masks because he's been burned too much. If only we'd seen it before...' The thought line made him sad. Lou only needed help. Anyone would have snapped when in his position, probably earlier than he did. A part of him wondered what Lou was like all those years ago, before he lost his innocence to trauma. Ox once described him as similar to a child. Knew a lot, but also not enough. They didn't know exactly what being a prototype meant. Only Lou did, and he was slow to let them beyond his walls. Understandable, honestly. They did hurt him.

What did it mean to be a prototype? A doll, yet different? What was he programmed with? What was he meant to be? A leader and teacher, obviously, but what else? Lou struggled a lot with perfection, even around them. They could see it in his stance and his eyes. He wanted to be perfect, unable to understand that perfection wasn't achievable or needed. How would they convince him? Ugly Dog wasn't sure, but he knew it would take time. Lots of time. And love. And care.

'Maybe we could get him back to teaching again,' he thought. 'The robots teach, but they put a lot of dolls to sleep with monotone voices. Lou's teaching was right. His methods were just questionable.' He doubted he would keep doing the crueler side of his lessons. The washing machine was gone anyway, and Lou was acting like a whole other person most the time.

A small sound caught his attention. A whimper. His eyes, which he hadn't known closed, snapped open to look at Lou. The blonde's face was scrunched up in fear and he withdrew his arm from the dog doll, clutching both his limbs to his chest almost protectively. "Lou?" Ugly Dog whispered, getting up and inching over to him. "Louis?" As much as he hated the name, he didn't entirely mind if they used it now. Sometimes. Lou didn't respond, only curling in on himself further, his eyes squeezed shut.

Not knowing what else to do, Ugly Dog reached out and shook his shoulder. "Lou, wake up, it's just a nightmare." No response. "Lou, Lou," he repeated, getting a little more frantic. "Come on, man." Finally, a flutter of eyelids and a small gasp. "There you are." He tried to smile. "You're okay."

Lou's light blue eyes met his, only to fill with tears. Ugly Dog's heart hurt. This was Lou at one of his low points. A time when he couldn't drag up his brick walls. When he was vulnerable. "Aw, dude," the dog said, trying to figure out how to fix this. Lou sniffed, his arms going lax, and the doll got an idea. He pawed one of Lou's arms up and put it around him, then settled down right up against the doll's chest.

Lou's muscles tensed up and Ugly Dog wondered if he should regret his idea. His new friend wasn't exactly the best with physical affection of any kind. Even shoulder pats had scared him at times. After a moment, he went to move, only for Lou's arm to securely wrap around him in a hug. Ugly Dog's heartrate jumped with happiness as his friend held him like a child would a stuffed animal, just as he'd done to Moxy. Except this was a more conscious decision. Progress.

"It's okay, Lou," he comforted when the leader started to shake a little, feeling tears drop onto the back of his head. "Everything is okay. It wasn't-" he stopped. Lou told them last time that his nightmares could be real things, real memories. Like with the doll Sofia. A distant part of his mind wondered if they could ever find her again, let her and Lou meet once more, but he brushed it away for now. Lou needed him in the present. "It's okay. Nothing is going to hurt you."

Lou settled down after a minute, breathing still choppy but no more tears. Another minute past and he went mostly lax, still hugging Ugly Dog. The dog doll settled down further against Lou, offering comfort in the best way he knew how. He was often the hyperactive jokester of the bunch, but he could be calm when needed to be. Like right now.

The click of a camera snapping caught his attention. Lucky Bat was at the door, holding up a Polaroid camera with a smile. "This is adorable." He chuckled, taking the photo out. The pitcher of water and glass he'd went to get were on the desk.

Ugly Dog glared, but he knew it wasn't convincing considering his position. "Not adorable. Cool."

"Fine, it's cool." He settled the camera and photo down to grab the water, moving it to the bedside table. "How is he?"

"Calm now. Had a momentary hiccup with dreams, but he's chill." He relaxed the glare. "I think I'm gonna stay here with him. My kid is going to an after school sport anyway."

"I don't think you have much of a choice with staying, unless you want to wake him up." Ugly Dog looked at him like that was the worst thing he could've suggested. His friend smiled. "I thought so." He went back and grabbed the camera, leaving the photo behind for Lou's album. "I'll be back when I can. My kid will be needing me soon."

"Bye, dude." He watched the door shut, then closed his own eyes, content to be with his friend and keep the nightmares away.

_______________________

"Time to wake up, Lou!"

Lou held back a groan, turning his head into the pillow. He didn't want to get up. Had it really been two hours already? After the excitement of the last few days, with them all working to get him into better light with the dolls and even throwing a party for the entirety of Imperfection last night, he was tired. Sleep hadn't come easy last night either, with his worries of not being accepted and anxiety over what was ahead. Ox wanted him to be a co-mayor eventually and made the suggestion last night, leaving Lou with buzzing thoughts.

He did not want to wake up from this nap. As much as he'd hated them (and still did), he'd come to appreciate them and the reasoning behind having them. He didn't like to sleep in the middle of the day and they were becoming less and less needed, sometimes even skipped all together, but he could appreciate that when he was tired, they were there. Except now it was over and Moxy was trying to get him out of bed.

"Louuuuuu~" she sang, opening the blinds. He pressed his eyes shut tighter. A moment later, his bed was moving and she was jumping on it. "You gotta wake up! Don't you remember what you've got to do in an hour?" Her jumps were coming toward him, almost beside his head.

"No," he muttered, his mind waking up. His brain was slow to get the gears turning, mind still groggy. Most the time, he could wake up instantly. Before being overthrown, he woke before dawn, either from nightmares or a detrimental sleep schedule, and always was on his feet in a few seconds. Now, he understood that he didn't have to have that instant wake up to make sure of his perfection. He could take things slower. "Wha' do I need to do?" He turned, rubbing at his eyes as they blinked against the light. Moxy's form shaded him, her bouncing stopping as she grinned down at him.

"It's your first day of teaching again, silly!" She pulled the blankets away, then grabbed his hand as his brain had stuttered to a momentary stop. "Come on! You need to get ready! Can't meet the dolls in pajamas, can you?"

"N-no, no, I can't." His mouth finally worked. His body followed suit, allowing him to climb out of bed. Moxy practically pushed him into his walk-in closet full of suits that weren't just repetitive black tuxes. Nolan had made him three in different, solid colors, and promised more. Lou had protested, but all he got in response was that his black suits needed a lot more color. He also was given several other shirts besides his white button up. His mind fully awake, he ran his hand over some suits and shirts, trying to decide. 'How about a mix of the old and the new?' He thought, grabbing a black tux and a dark blue undershirt.

After changing, he made his way downstairs, looking for where Moxy had run off to as he fixed his suit cuffs. As soon as his feet were on solid ground, a hand grabbed his arm and yanked him toward the kitchen. He had to stifle a yelp of surprise, allowing himself to be dragged by Moxy into the kitchen. Surprisingly, or maybe not so surprisingly, Mandy was there, holding a bag full of hair salon supplies.

She looked appraisingly at his change in style. Up until this point, he'd been too nervous to wear much of the other styles, fearing others thoughts on it. Today was different. His first class since... before. He wanted to show them all he was different. "I love the style, Lou." Moxy let go of his hand only for Mandy to reach over and grab it, pulling him to sit in the chair. "Now for your hair."

"What's wrong with my hair?" He asked, an old panic rising up. He was having a hard time getting his supposed to be perfect mentality out of the way, especially when it came to his appearance. He didn't have bed head, nor were his bangs in his eyes.

"Nothing," she was quick to assure. "Just want to try something. And maybe I like to play with it." She ran a hand through his golden threads for emphasis. It was no secret his hair was pretty soft, having been handmade. As much as he was the 'perfect mold' in a teacher stand point, no other doll looked like him. He was a prototype, after all.

He huffed out a small laugh, folding his hands in his lap and letting Mandy do her thing as he tried to veer away from the prototype line of thought. Maybe he couldn't have a kid, but at least his existence wasn't so soul crushingly lonely anymore. Like it had been for the last nine years.

A chocolate chip cookie was shoved into his face. "I made cookies!" Moxy announced. He took it from her hand, offering a smile. "Thanks." She grinned and hugged him, but what really surprised him was when she whispered in his ear, "You can't be sad with a cookie, but if you still are, that's okay. You've got this." She pulled away, gave him a nod, and headed back to the oven. Warmth filled Lou's chest. A good kind. One he was slowly becoming more and more acquainted with. He looked at the cookie and took a bite. Moxy's cookies really were amazing. Chocolate chip and macadamia nut were his favorites.

"There we go! How do you like it?" Mandy put a mirror in front of Lou. He peered into it, examining the small changes. His hair was slightly flatter, longer in the back, and it curled up around his ears a little. His hair was mostly straight, yes, but there was a little curl to it that most people didn't notice. Mandy had.

"I... I love it. Thank you, Mandy. You do have an eye for hair style."

"And you're just figuring this out now?" She joked, moving the mirror and supplies.

"Yes, I've been blind to it this whole time." They laughed. He stood and Mandy turned him around by the shoulder, fixing a last piece of hair. "Remember," she muttered where he could hear, "you don't have to be perfect for them. Even teachers aren't perfect. Got it?"

It was a hard thought to swallow. He couldn't promise anything. "I'll try to remember that." He conceded. She smiled gently.

"All you need to do is try and that will be enough."

Just try. He could do that. No sheer pressure to try and drag him under. Just an attempt.

Moxy shoved a brown paper sack of cookies into his hands. "Macadamia, chocolate chip, and a new flavor - blizzard sprinkle." She presented. He gave her a thanks, almost overwhelmed by just cookies. Cookies with love. Love he'd been starved of for too long. Mandy hooked her arm with his, leading him out the front door. A few steps out, he was met by Nolan, Babo, Ox, Lucky Bat, and Ugly Dog.

"First day of class, man!" Ugly Dog was practically vibrating where he stood, ocassionally jumping around. "You're going to do great," Lucky Bat told him, smiling. Lou felt a bit overwhelmed again due to all the compliments. Back when he was the leader, he got compliments when people were trying to get him on their 'side.' He could strut down a runway, singing and dancing, but none of the compliments were genuine to the thread, unless it was from a new batch of dolls who didn't yet know who he was. Those little moments of sunshine didn't last long. Mentally shaking himself out of the thought, he thanked both dolls.

Babo was holding something behind his back. Before he could ask what it was, the grey doll revealed it. It was a leaf green satchel. Rectangular in shape with two smaller pockets outside the big one, tucked underneath a flap. The small pockets held pencils and sticky notes, from what he could see. "It's a gift," he explained at Lou's dumbfounded look. "I think having things on hand is useful, Nolan knows how to sew, and everyone else got some teacher things to put in it so you'll be prepared for your first day back in action." Ox took the bag by the long strap and put it over a frozen Lou's head, letting the padded strap sit on his right shoulder, the bag settling easily against his hip like it was made for him. It had some weight to it, and he picked up the flap to see two colored binders inside, pencils, pens, markers, a notebook, and even a small bag of peppermints, his favorite candy.

For a second, his brain refused to work. They were all grinning at him, Mandy's arm still hooked around his, and the sheer amount of love from them was setting him on the fritz. They even banned together to get him a gift - a hand sewn satchel with absolutely everything he would need to be a teacher again. To do the thing he'd missed so much. It was overwhelming in the best way.

"Lou, you okay?" Nolan asked. It was then he realized he hadn't said anything in a long minute and his eyes were beginning to well up with happy tears. He took a second to blink them away, then looked at them all.

"Yes, I'm fine. Better than fine. This... this is amazing, guys." He could hardly get the words out due to how tight his throat was getting. "I love it. Thank you so much."

A chorus of "your welcomes" and "no problem Lou" met him. Moxy took the bag of cookies and put it in his new bag. "All set," she said as they all started walking toward the building where dolls who'd suffered through several classes with mundane robots and struggling to pass were. Some of his classes would be outside in an open area, but that was for the obstacle course to train for the Gaunlet. His other classes would be inside a colorful building that had a main classroom, cafeteria, and library. It was a recent building that the robots had created and everyone else got together to paint.

As they headed there, he noticed how some of the others were giggling and almost tripping over themselves. 'They're trying to walk like me,' he realized after following how Nolan's feet and hips were trying to imitate what the others called his 'sassy walk.' It wasn't exactly a thing he consciously did. When he needed to be confident in his earlier years, he found the smooth walk helped him. Over time, it became a subconscious thing. When he'd tried to stop, fearing it was a bad divide between him and the others, Mandy had pointed out how it was original. Unique in a way that wasn't the same as him being a prototype versus them being dolls. He didn't try to stop after that.

As they came closer to the building, Ox clapped him on the shoulder with his paw. "It's gonna be a great class, Professor Lou. They're gonna love you."

"Yeah, Professor Lou!" Nolan followed.

Lou almost facepalmed. "I'm not a professor. I'm just... Lou."

"Louis," Moxy edited. He gave her a glare that surely bordered on a pout, judging by her increase in smile. "Professor Louis."

"You're all insufferable."

Everyone laughed. He couldn't hold the glare up, caving into a smile. His heart and head felt lighter than they ever had when walking to teach a class - something that was slightly strange considering he weighed more with the satchel. His hand unconsciously wrapped around the strap, making sure it was still there. Still real. This was happening. He had friends, love, and he was going back to teach again. The looks he got while walking up the sidewalk weren't all full of scorn. If tentative, they were friendly. He was no longer being crushed by his cage of loneliness. His friends were his wings, and he was soaring higher than he ever had on stage.

If this was a dream, he didn't want to wake up.

But he knew it wasn't a dream. He'd taken enough naps, slept beside friends, and been carried around enough to know that this was no dream. This was reality.

For the first time in a long time, it was a reality he wanted to live.

__________________

Lou jerked awake in bed, breathing hitching up in his chest. There was a wetness on the sides of his face. Tears. Tears that wouldn't stop and images that wouldn't quit replaying in his mind. Sofia. Recycling. Fire. Robotic dog. Giant baby. Failure. Failure. Failure. Prototype. A stupid prototype.

He dragged himself out of bed, entire body trembling. The blinds were partly open, allowing him to see the beginnings of sunrise. 'It's just like waking up in the mansion,' he thought, a shudder running through his body. 'Don't think about that. Don't think about it. You're not in that place. That empty, dreary, tiring place...' He shook himself physically, arms wrapping around his frame in an attempt to give himself the hug. It wasn't the same as being hugged by a friend.

Friends. It was too early for them to be awake, and he didn't exactly want to bother them, not when they were about to leave for their respective kids in an hour or two. He knew they'd say they wouldn't mind, but he'd be depriving them of sleep. While they weren't there physically, he did have something else. On unsteady feet, he made his way to his first bookshelf. On top of it, in the very middle, was a framed photo of him with all his friends, smiling and happy. They were gathered for the group photo by a big log in the park. Moxy, Ugly Dog, and Lucky Bat were sitting on the log. Lou stood behind them, Nolan on his left and Mandy on his right, their arms slung across his shoulders. Ox stood on the end of the log, and Babo was on the other end. Everyone was happy, laughing at some joke Moxy made instead of having them say the typical 'cheese!'

They took it three days ago. He was so glad to have it now. He grabbed it, frame and all, off the bookshelf and curled up on his bed, pressing it to his chest. The hard edges dug into his threads, but he didn't care. It was calming. The picture was a reminder that whole he was physically alone, he wasn't really alone. He was in a cottage made of love, not a mansion. He was a teacher in a good way. He was living a better life than he ever had, all thanks to them. No more isolation. No more loneliness. No more crying in the dark with no one to guide him to the light. He'd been alive for nearly a decade, but it felt like he was actually breathing.

He was making progress. Sometimes it was slow, but it was progress all the same. He was getting better. He was living.

Slowly, he managed to calm down from his nightmare. He would talk to them later, or just be with them. Remind himself that nothing was like his nightmare. Not anymore. For now, he let his eyes close and breathing deepen, falling asleep with the knowledge that he was loved.

#lou uglydolls #uglydolls #fanfiction #fanfic #writers on tumblr #writing #sleepy bois inc #hurt/comfort #nightmare #comfort #found family #friendship

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random-writer-4884 · 2 years

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Red and Yellow Roses (Tony Stark X Stephen Strange)

Red and Yellow Roses

Tony Stark X Stephen Strange

Description: When Stephen returns home from a mission and dismisses Tony, who hadn't slept in over a day, Tony becomes upset. Even though the next day was their anniversary, Tony runs off and Stephen goes to bed. However, when Stephen is barely able to sleep without Tony by his side, he goes and prepares for their anniversary so that he can correct his mistake.

Warnings: none

Tony was tired. Ok maybe tired wasn’t the right word. Tony was exhausted. He had been up for well over 24 hours, and had spent basically the whole time in his lab when Pepper wasn’t bugging him to sign papers. He had finally stopped working when J.A.R.V.I.S. began to lock down his equipment.

He went back to the bedroom he shared with Stephen Strange, and changed out of his dirty work clothes. He sat down on the bed and looked at the calendar he kept on the wall. Tomorrow was their 1 year anniversary. They had started dating a whole year ago tomorrow. Tony had a nice dinner planned for the two of them, but Stephen had been gone for a little bit. Being the Sorcerer Supreme was a taxing job, and often required him to leave on a dime.

J.A.R.V.I.S. alerted him to some papers that Pepper had sent over for him to sign. Something that he could easily say he hated. The constant nagging from his ex-girlfriend about his company that he left her in charge of running. Yet he still had to sign all the papers. He was part of the way through digitally signing them when a ring of sparks appeared, and out walked Stephen.

He was covered in dirt, and small cuts, and blood. His perfectly kept hair was tossed in every direction possible. His robes were torn and slashed. The gleam in his eyes was replaced with a tired dullness.

Tony immediately stood from where he sat on the bed and ran up to Stephen “You're back!” Tony reached his hands out to cup Stephen’s face, but he backed away from the contact.

“I need to shower. I’ll be back.” Tony was taken aback by the lack of affection. Stephen started walking towards the bathroom and Tony marched after him.

“I’m sorry? No ‘Hi Tony’ or ‘I missed you Tony’ or even ‘I love you’? Really?” The cloak around Stephen's shoulders let go of his robes and flew to the other side of the room.

Stephen sighed as he began to untie his robes “Look, it was a long fight, and i haven't slept. I havent really eaten either. I just want a fucking shower, is that alright?”

“Fine, go have a shower! It’s not like it matters to me! I just wanted a fucking hug from my boyfriend!” Tony turned on his heels and walked out of the room. Stephen, in similar fashion, marched into the bathroom and slammed the door. Leaving the cloak so lift itself up and down in a motion similar to a sigh.

When Stephen walked out of the bathroom after his shower, he was sort of surprised that Tony wasn’t sitting in bed. In fact Tony was nowhere to be seen. Stephen wandered the floor before giving up. He was exhausted, and if Tony couldn’t understand that then it was his own fault.

He didn’t exactly sleep much. The emptiness in the bed was a painful cold. And so one the clock hit 5:20 AM Stephen got up. He searched the closet for a suit, and pulled out a nice navy blue one. With a little bit of searching, he found a red tie with simple gold stripes on it. The choice was only a little bit inspired by Tony’s Iron Man suits.

Once he was fully dressed up, with hair combed back, and suit ironed. He wrapped the Cloak of Levitation around his shoulders and opened a portal.

He stepped right outside a lovely little flower shop. Walking into the shop he was greeted by the sweet old lady who owned and ran the shop.

“Oh! Stephen! I’m so excited for you to see this bouquet! What a beautiful bouquet idea you had! Red and yellow roses mixed together with a single green rose in the middle! It's stunning!”

The cheerful lady handed him the bouquet, and she was certainly right that it was stunning. Stephen thanked her and paid for the bouquet (He may have slipped a large bit extra into her tip jar when she wasn’t looking).

Once he was outside, Stephen opened a portal back to the tower. “J.A.R.V.I.S. Where is Tony? I have something for him.”

“Mr. Stark has requested I not tell you his location.” The AI replied simply. Stephen sighed, deciding instead to search the tower. He started with the Avengers wing, and when he found nothing he continued to the lab.

It turned out the lab was the place to go. He found Tony asleep on a bench, draped over a handful of blueprints. He had a white pencil in his hand and had clearly fallen asleep while sketching his blueprints.

Stephen gently rubbed Tony’s shoulder to wake him up. When he finally opened his eyes he found Stephen bent down beside him.

“Good Morning Tony.” He said softly. “Happy Anniversary, my love.” Tony sat up quickly in the chair, nearly falling off of it.

“What?”

“I know I was a bit of an ass last night. I was tired, but it still wasn’t right. I’m sorry.” Stephen looked down at the ground as he spoke, only looking up when Tony put his hands on Stephen’s face.

Tony was smiling “I forgive you, you oaf! Besides, I have a dinner reservation for us tonight!” Tony stood up from his chair. Hair a bit messy, his face had grease smudges on it.

Stephen leaned over and planted a gentle kiss onto Tony’s lips. When he finished, he pulled the bouquet of roses from behind him. He handed them over to Tony “These are for you.”

Tony lifted the flowers to his nose to smell them. “It's a beautiful bouquet! I don’t exactly understand the green one in the middle though.” Stephen gave a slight chuckle

“Well, the red ones are for love and passion, the yellow are for caring and affection, and the green one is for growth and abundance.” Tony was smiling looking down at the flowers “Oh, and they’re the color of your suit. The green one is in the middle, sort of like the Eye of Agamotto.”

Tony started giggling. “You are such a dork!” He quickly turned and walked over to a door on the side of the room “I’ll be right back! I just need a quick change and I’ll be ready to go.”

Stephen was confused “Go where? I didn’t really have a plan.” Tony turned around quickly with a grin on his face.

“Breakfast, obviously! I know a lovely little mom and pop shop across town that we can go to! The owners are so sweet! They have a little side room they always let me use so i’m not bombarded by paparazzi!” Tony ran through the door yelling something to J.A.R.V.I.S. that Stephen wasn’t able to make out.

When he returned a few minutes later, he was wearing a maroon suit, and a green tie with golden accents. He walked over to Stephen and wrapped his right arm around his waist, and his left behind Stephen’s neck. Tony tilted his head and pressed his lips against Stephen’s, who returned the kiss and wrapped his arms around Tony’s waist.

When they broke apart, Tony grabbed Stephens hand and pulled the Sorcerer (and his accompanying cloak) out the door. They were both laughing as they hopped into the car, and drove to breakfast.

#iron strange #ironstrange #iron man #tony stark #stephen strange #doctor strange #dr stephen strange #mcu #hurt comfort #fanfiction #anthony stark #marvel #evengers #marvel mcu #ship fic #canon divergent #fan fiction #fanfic #doctor strange 2

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prnanxiety · 7 months

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9/21/23

Uneventful day, thank god.

I had a nurse who "hadn't quite been a nurse for a year, all of that medsurg" shadow me for the first four hours. That's, what, my third unique preceptee in a week? My nurse educator is thankful I'm so willing to precept new potential talent, but frankly at this point I just want to make sure it's done right.

The patient from the end of my last shift, who's been here I think more than a month now and was stripping naked last night- last night she apparently was the most psychotic anyone's ever seen her. Screaming and shouting and demanding things of staff, making threats on the life of her nurse, and so on. Complete opposite of the never-leaving-bed side of her we've been seeing for weeks. Hey, I guess the ECT is working.

Doctors ordered a blood draw to confirm her white blood cell count r/t the clozaril she's been getting, but her veins aren't great. Fatty arms. The veins are palpable, but they roll. I found a great spot but I couldn't quite get the needle in the vein. Thankfully, my medsurg shadow picked up from my position and managed to get the tip in. Day shift psych nursing means I never do phlebotomy anymore. I'm starting to get sloppy!

While getting that blood though, the patient started trying to stroke my cheek, and tell me I have beautiful hair, and beautiful lips. She's been sexually inappropriate lately, telling the doctors she needs pregnancy pills right now because she's pregnant. It was really good for my shadow to see her do that, frankly. And it was good for me to have her witness me; can't have patients making comments that I'm making moves on the patients!

Heard some news regarding the patient from yesterday that made my heart sink; She hadn't slept, at all. Not a wink. When she presented to the hospital she was already on maybe 3 hours of sleep for 24 hours. This was approaching 48 hours no sleep, and she couldn't tell us who she was or where she was anymore. Dropped from AOx4 to AOx0, slowly yet surely.

I didn't see her today, but I really think that's truly delirium. There's something going on in her brain that's way more complicated than the standard psychosis we see everyday. The patient finally got approved for a transfer to a medicine unit. I really might ask the doctors next time I'm at work if they have any idea what was going on with her, because it was out of my skillset. We were all talking at the nurse's station about it for a while. That poor lady.

That nurse said she wanted to come back and shadow again on our unit for another shift though, this time longer. I like to think I sold her on our unit. Dusted off my shoulders at my boss when I told her, lol.

#dear diary #diary entry #nursing #psych #psychiatry #psychosis #cw: drugs #nurse

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spainkitty · 1 year

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Shortest and Final Part of my little show-n-tell, a little time skip to after finding the Grey Wardens and Carver gone with them. Blatantly Handers. Mutual, dumbass pining ftw

Oh Fuck, The Deep Roads Part 3

Part 1 / Part 2

Hawke stared at him. She hadn’t slept in at least 24 hours. She was filthy. She was wearing Varric’s jacket to cover the giant holes in her shirt. She had almost died. So maybe she was dreaming it.

“He lived, Hawke. He’s… well, sleeping is the nice word for it, but he survived. He’s a Grey Warden now, Maker help the poor sod,” Anders reiterated, rubbing his forehead with his hand.

“He’s alive. He’s alive!” Hawke leapt onto Anders, arms thrown around his neck, balancing on her toes so she could put every bit of strength in her hug. “He’s alive because of you, thank you!”

“I just carted him to a bunch of Wardens. I didn’t--” Anders tried to point out, arms automatically around her waist as he smiled tiredly at her enthusiasm.

“No, shut up, he’s alive because of you. Thank you,” Hawke said, pulling back far enough to meet his eyes. She grinned, then kissed his cheek, firmly but briefly. “Thank you.”

“You forgot the part where he saved you, Birdie,” Varric said, smirking at Anders’ flummoxed expression.

“Oh, right!” She leaned up to kiss Anders’ other cheek. “Tell Justice one of those is for him, too.”

“Uh. Okay?” Anders stammered.

“Great. Everyone lived,” Fenris yanked Hawke away from Anders, making her yelp in surprise, and hauled her towards the bedroll she’d never gotten around to lying on. “You need sleep. We still have a long way to go and I don’t want you getting yourself killed again.”

“Is it killed again if I didn’t technically die the--I’ll shut up now,” Hawke said quickly, hands up in surrender, when all three men glared at her. She all but flopped onto the bedroll, groaning slightly when the solid rock beneath her admittedly too thin bedroll made her still tender torso ache.

Carver was alive. She pressed her face into the threadbare lump of a pillow, grinning in relief. He’s alive. He’ll be a Warden, a hero. Maybe he’ll finally find his own feet, and when they meet again one day, they’ll find a way to be better. Better siblings. Better friends.

The other three were talking quietly near the fire behind her as she settled more comfortably. She didn’t bother trying to figure out what they were saying, probably looking at the maps and planning out a course. For once, she didn’t feel like being in the middle of it. She was tired and so so relieved. She wanted to lay there and feel like it was all going to work out.

The murmur of Anders’ voice broke her reverie. Slowly, so they wouldn’t see her moving, Hawke lifted her hand and touched her fingertips to her lips. If she tried hard enough, she could remember the fleeting burn of his facial hair, hear the quietly surprised inhale, and the weight of his arms around her waist to hold her steady. She smiled, small and secret, heart thumping.

He had made it clear that only the thinnest and most innocent teasing was allowed. Even then, he would stop sometimes, pull away, shut down and shut her out.

Maybe a year ago, we could’ve had something…

She pressed her fingers harder against her lips. Her eyes squeezed shut.

At least she could keep this. A few innocent cheek kisses done in sheer relief. She hadn't even really thought about it before doing it, but in hindsight it had her spinning. Aching. There wasn’t anything too bad about it... right? The memory of his voice in her ear calling her 'sweetheart' and that kiss on her forehead were also hers to keep. Stolen moments in the depths of the Deep Roads and terror. She should feel more guilty for treasuring them, for repeating them over and over in her head, for rubbing her fingertips over her lips. But she didn’t.

#handers #hawke x anders #shes trying SO hard to respect his space #but both of them fell in love at first sight #and now theyre torturing themselves #LOL dumbasses in love will ALWAYS been my favorite trope #mutual pining #da2 #da2 fanfiction #silly little floof after all that blood and mayhem BYE #oh shit did i tag the blood and mayhem on Part 2!?!?!#this probably doesnt need a read more #but marian is giving me secondhand embarrassment with how disgustingly pining she is #lmlovehertho

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wingedbeings · 4 years

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I'm such an absolute mess right now, I need to just take my meds and go to sleep but I cant because what if they try to do something while im asleep

#don't rebl//g #moss.exe #suicide tw #im flaring up rlly bad too bc ive been up for way to long #i slept 3 hrs and now ive been up for 24 since then other than the brief half sleep nap I had full of trauma nightmares #I had to be up early to be available for them and that #they dont even give half a fuck about me #all they ever do is use me #if i dont go to sleep soon im just going to end up flaring up so badly i'll need emergency care instead #i genuinely feel like im just about dying #why do my chronic illnesses cause this bs #i used to be able to stay up for several days #when they werent so bad yet #now I feel just as sleep deprived physically as I did when I hadn't eaten in well over a week and hadn't slept more than a couple hours-#throughout the same week while still going to school #I know its also bc of my medication now to some degree and being rlly sensitive to withdrawal symptoms of them after not having taken them #for over 26-30 or so hours #bc of my chronic illnesses #and the flaring up worsens the symptoms and vice versa #but I just hate this bc I need to stay awake more than ever now and I just feel like I'm dying #my body is just straight up giving up so I really have no choice but to soon #but I wont be able to live with myself if they do anything while I'm asleep #i just basically begged them to be there when I wake up and im going to set my alarm at as little sleep as my body is willing to let me-#survive on which is abt 6 hrs and thats rlly rlly pushing it as thats barely manageable on a good day but yea #i honestly dont think its doable to set an alarm at all bc my body is just begging for at least 12 hrs of sleep to maybe keep the flare up-#from worsening still so maybe I shouldnt set an alarm because if I wake up i wont be able to just go back to sleep #and I feel like I'll actually genuinely have no choice but to contact emergency services if this worsens even the tiniest bit #im actually genuinely worried if I'll even wake up in the morning with how genuinely bad im doing physically lol #lets just hope for the best i guess #i wish i had a mother who would hold me and comfort me rn so badly

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leafs-lover · 2 years

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Part Twenty Seven

Series Masterlist

A/N: Sorry it took so long, I had to re-write it and questioned it almost every turn. I'd like to thank @canesjedi31, first for talking me through some of my concerns and then for reading it over for me! This likely would not be out yet if you hadn't helped me through my blocks.

Warnings: swearing, drinking, cocaine use, stripping

Word Count: 9500

Auston knew he fucked up.

He played through the fight a million times, not fully believing what transpired, what he said. Never did he see himself acting that way towards anyone, let alone Tia.

Forty minutes later Tia emerged from the bedroom and set her suitcase by the door. She made her way to the kitchen and grabbed some water, then she curled into a corner of the couch, never looking at Auston. Her eyes were bloodshot and glossy, cheeks puffy – it was obvious she had been crying.

He made her cry.

Taylour talked the entire drive to the airport. Auston never glanced over the center console to Tia, he didn’t have to, he could feel the agony rolling off her in waves from the driver’s seat. He parked in the parking garage and grabbed their bags, while Tia removed Taylour from the car seat. With one hand locked in Auston’s, the other firmly in Tia’s, Taylour skipped through the parking lot, chatting a mile a minute, completely oblivious to what was happening between his parents.

Taylour hugged him goodbye, and Tia stood with her arms crossed over her chest with a locked jaw, unable to even look at him. They walked away. Both of them. Through the airport.

Every instinct told Auston to chase after them – wrap his arms around her and tell her a million times over how sorry he was. Instead he just watched, his heart shattering with every step they took.

That night Auston sat alone in his condo. The TV was off, no music played. The laughter from his neighbours echoed in the hall, from the pool, all the background noise was drowned out by him replaying everything from the last 24 hours.

Mike text and asked if he wanted to go out with Jessica and Amy – he ignored it. His mom text him asking if he wanted to come for dinner the next night – he ignored it. Trevor asked how the hangover was – he ignored it. The only time he even looked at his phone was when Tia’s name popped up, informing him they made it home. Auston was quick to reply, she left him on delivered.

Getting home Tia was drained – mentally, physically and emotionally drained. Leaving her bag at the door, she carried a sleeping Taylour to bed and tucked him in. Finding a full bottle of wine she started a warm bath and filled it with an egregious amount of bubbles. She turned on her audiobook and sunk into the water, drinking that wine directly from the bottle.

It didn’t help.

Becks came over. Tia had already called her from Scottsdale, but was hysterical and incoherent then. This time Tia was drunk and tired, mildly incoherent, but more than anything she was mad. Tia cried, and swore, brought up needing a lawyer, that she didn’t want Taylour to be around Auston, that updating the birth certificate was a mistake. Becks nodded along, trying to ask questions all while running her hands through her hair, barely able to get a word in. Eventually, mostly the result of emotional exhaustion, Tia fell asleep.

The next day was a little better. Having slept it off, she wasn’t 100% committed to the idea of hiring a lawyer. A part of her wants to think something like that would never happen again - she also didn’t think it would happen once. But the main reason is Auston was right. She couldn’t afford a lawyer, not even a lower end, barely passed law school, caliber of a lawyer. If she took him to court, Auston would bring a very expensive and successful legal team. It could end badly for her, it’s not like she has been perfect herself.

Auston’s texts went unanswered. She did accept his FaceTime on Monday saying “let me get Taylour for you,” and was never back on the screen. After a few minutes Taylour left to go play and Auston stared at Tia’s wall for twenty seconds hopeful to get a chance to speak with her. She hung up instead.

“You have got to be the stupidest man on the planet,” Becks shakes her head while opening the door.

When Auston woke up on Tuesday and saw Tia had read his texts but didn’t reply, he knew he had to do something. He called a florist and ordered a stunning bouquet - Calla lilies, mixed with hydrangeas, peonies and various soft coloured roses – while on the phone Auston basically told them “I fucked up and have no budget.” When his FaceTime request later that afternoon was ignored with no explanation, he booked a flight and in under an hour was in the air heading for Toronto, and then to Tia’s, flowers and dinner in hand.

“She isn’t talking to me,” Auston responds. Stepping in when Becks moves to the side, Auston kicks his shoes off, he carries a bag of food into the kitchen and sets the takeout and flowers on the counter - quickly being met by Taylour running into his knee.

“Ever think that’s by design?” Auston hears her mutter even as Taylour squeals in excitement to see him.

“Hi Taylour!” he picks him up and throws him up above his head, before pulling him onto his hip.

“What’s that?” he says as he looks at the food on the counter.

“I brought you dinner.” Opening Taylour’s container, he turns to look at him, “dinosaur chicken nuggets!”

“YAY!” Taylour cheers.

Carrying him and the food to the table, Auston sets them both down. Opening the plum sauce and the ketchup, he squirts a little on the side for him to dunk.

“Where is she?” Auston asks. Her bedroom door is wide open, bed unmade and a basket of laundry overflowing in the corner, Tia nowhere to be seen.

“Celeste’s.”

“Celeste’s?”

“She got the placement with the designer.”

“She didn’t tell me.” Auston can’t help but sound disappointed.

“Do you blame her?” Becks scoffs, shaking her head. Knowing everything that happened, Becks is furious. Only a few weeks prior he was desperate to get her back, willing to do just about anything for them to be a family again. Then he said vile and heinous things to her, the kind of horrific things you can’t say to someone you love. As if it wasn’t bad enough, he shows up unannounced with dinner as if nothing happened. “You know I was on your side, wanted you guys to work out. If it wasn’t for Taylour, I’d tell her to never speak to you again.”

As mad as she is towards Auston, Becks is more disappointed in herself. Being perceptive, she always considered herself a good judge of character.

Becks didn’t know him that well when he dated Claire. She knew him in the “his name is Auston and he is dating my roommate” sense. She occasionally saw him around the apartment, heard Claire talking to him on the phone, and even went for drinks with them a few times. She never had more than a surface level conversation with Auston, but still felt like something was missing, that Claire and Auston weren’t a good match.

It wasn’t all that shocking when Becks found out Tia and Auston slept together again, or that they kept finding ways to kiss. And not just soft, brief brushing of the lips, but full on, deep, passionate, ‘I never want to stop kissing you’ kisses. On top of that, Tia lit up when she talked about Auston in a way Becks had never seen. Even if Tia would never admit it, a part of her held on to the hope over the last three years that she and Auston would be a family one day.

Being a good friend, and realizing it wasn’t a lack of love that was keeping Auston from her life, but instead fear, Becks encouraged Tia to give him a chance. He had proven countless times he would do anything for her, and hurting her didn’t seem like it was a possibility. Becks spent the last two days doubting everything, doubting herself, wondering how she was that wrong about him.

“I know,” Auston says, feeling worse than Becks could ever believe.

“Do you?” She laughs at the ridiculousness of it all. “After everything that happened, that you did, you thought it would be a good idea to show up at her door and everything would be fixed?”

“I-“ Sighing, Auston brings a hand up and drags it along the side of his face, rubbing it over the heavy bags under his eyes. “I need her to know I’m sorry.”

“Flowers don’t do that,” Becks counters harshly.

“I know,” Auston groans. “If she would give me five minutes I could tell her I’m sorry.”

Becks wants to hate him. She doesn’t. She is still mad at him – but also finds herself sympathetic towards him.

It’s very obvious he is mad at himself, hasn’t been sleeping and likely has been sitting beside his phone, waiting and hoping her name would appear on the screen. He flew over 3,500 km to see her, it’s clear he wants to try and repair their relationship, and really parents who get along are better for Taylour than parents who can’t even be in the same room together.

“She needs time. She’s going to forgive you, she always does…she just needs time.”

“Right,” Auston silently tries to process her words. Taylour giggles to himself, dunking his chicken nugget in the plum sauce he bites the tail off, a muffled roar coming from him as he continues to eat. “If you like Greek there is more than enough, I’m going to go home.”

“You came all this way, you might as well talk to her,” Becks offers.

“I shouldn’t have come.” Auston admits. Leaning down he places a kiss to the top of Taylour’s head, lingering a little longer than normal before pulling away. “Have a good night.”

Auston’s feet are heavy. Weighed down by every poor decision he’s made in the past few days, weeks really. Pressing the down button for the elevator, he leans against the wall, regretting everything. Sleeping with Amy, telling Tia about Amy, yelling at Tia, almost everything that happened over that weekend in Arizona.

“Auston?” a familiar voice snaps him from his thoughts.

She looks tired. Her natural curls are half pinned behind her head, the rest left flowing, not a drop of makeup, big round glasses resting on the bridge of her nose, the only thing darker than her eyes are the bags underneath. Even if she is tired, she looks amazing, wearing an emerald green silk long sleeve with a plunging neckline, tucked into a pair of high waist black vegan leather pants. A beige tote hangs off her shoulder, full of binders and bundled fabrics. It’s the paper coffee cup in her hand that really catches his eye. Tia always said to never have coffee after 3.

Stepping off the elevator the door closes behind them. A heavy silence fills the air as they both look at each other, the first time in days. Neither one knows what to say, if they should talk or let the other go first. Coming here was risky, full of consequences, all of which Auston now knows he did not consider.

“I’m sorry,” his voice is soft, barely over a whisper.

“Okay?” she steps around him, an obvious crease cutting into her forehead. “Are you,” she sees an insurmountable pain written all over his face. “Are you okay?” Genuine concern is in her voice.

“Yeah.” He can’t believe that after everything she is the one asking that. “I just brought you some dinner.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

The elevator dings again, this time Auston steps on, barely able to keep her gaze. “Have a good night.”

Tia has seen Auston hurt before, battling internal turmoil, struggling to breathe. Never has she seen him like this, losing the fight to his demons.

Auston went back to his condo and watched a storm roll off Lake Ontario. The sky darkened and a heavy mist filled the air. Following a sharp clap of thunder, the sky opened and the rain began. Holding a full glass of whiskey, he swirled the liquid in the cup, watching rain trickle down the window panes.

Across town Tia and Becks ate the dinner Auston left. Tia asked Taylour about his day at daycare, gasping and ‘oohing’ at all the right moments. He continued to play with his nuggets, playfully bouncing them along the table before ripping its head off with his teeth. Tia and Becks smiled and laughed at his playful imagination, the bouquet of flowers constantly catching her peripheral vision.

“What the fuck is this?” Tia snaps the second he opens the door. Drenched from the rain, she holds the bouquet of flowers he dropped off a few hours ago.

“Flowers,” he plays dumb. Tia doesn’t wait for an invite and lets herself in, walking through his dark apartment, she drops them on the island.

“Why did you bring me these,” she bites, knowing he knew what she meant.

“Because I’m sorry.”

“Okay?” Her eyes narrow.

“I was hoping I could use them to start an apology. Then I realized it was a bad idea,” he replies, running a hand down his face. What is happening right now is what he was hopeful to avoid by leaving. “And I left

“What are you even apologizing for? Harassing a woman, implying I’m an escort, telling me about some girl you fucked, or for generally just being an asshole?” She asks clenching her jaw, shaking her head as she looks back at him.

Auston winces as she lists off the reason, grateful she stopped there. “All of the above.”

Tia just shakes her head and furrows her brows, her blood getting hotter inside. “Tia you’re an amazing woman and mother, I can’t believe I said those things to you.” Subconsciously he grabs her hands in his, and rubs the pads of his thumb over the back of her hands, feeling some of the rain that still lingers on her skin. His voice goes soft along with his eyes, tears slowly welling. “I set a horrible example for Taylour. I was a major jackass. I’m so sorry.” Pain is evident on his face and in his words.

“Auston,” she tugs her hands back and turns her gaze away, wiping away the tears that are brimming her eyes. She hates how he can show an ounce of compassion and she almost immediately forgets everything he’s done. “You can’t say sorry and make it better. You still said all those things. You still did that to that poor security guard. An apology doesn’t make that better.”

“I know. I’m trying to be better. I will be better.”

Tia left without saying another word, a bouquet of flowers with broken petals and fallen leaves leaving a puddle on his counter. Auston didn’t follow her or try to make her stay. For the second time in as many days, he let her go, except this time he realizes she needs space.

When the time came for Auston to pick Taylour up, Tia wasn’t there, instead she left him at daycare. And two days later when it was time to bring him back, it was Becks who once again opened the door. He knows she needs time, and she knows he is in town and would be more than willing to accommodate her schedule if it meant more time with Taylour. Instead he says nothing and lets Tia find ways to avoid him.

June 2, 2019

“Daddy, we go skate today?” Taylour asks, bouncing on his heels in the elevator.

“You want to go skating?” Auston turns to look down at him.

“Yes,” he eagerly nods, eyes beaming up at him.

Normally Auston’s off-season training isn’t heavily focussed on skating this early into the summer – the primary focus being staying active and in shape while allowing any lingering injuries a chance to rest. The past two seasons he had found himself on the ice a few times by now, this year Auston hasn’t been once.

Stopping briefly at his condo to grab Taylour’s hockey equipment, Auston set the vehicle in drive, heading towards Scotiabank Arena. After stopping 300 times in the hall to answer Taylour’s ‘what’s that?” question about every single plaque, picture or memorabilia, they finally were at the ice. Sitting him on the bench, he pulls the skate between his thigh and starts tightening the laces.

“How are you doing bud?” Auston asks, switching to the other skate.

“Good,” his little voice replies. Flicking his gaze around the rink – the jumbotron, the banners, empty seats - Taylour’s brown eyes land on Auston and a wide smile spreads on his face.

Leaning forward Auston places a kiss to his cheek, “love you Taylour.”

“Love you too Daddy,” he echoes back.

“Alright,” Auston reaches down and pulls off the skate guards. Grabbing Taylour’s helmet he pulls it over his curls and fastens the buckles. After adjusting his own on his head, he tugs Taylour’s gloves onto his hands. “All set.”

The ice is smooth and glossy, having been unused since the last Zamboni flood. Stepping out with Taylour in his arm, he skates to center ice and stops, lowering him down. His eyes are wide, but pale in comparison to the smile on his face.

“You’re doing great.” Auston crouches behind him, hands under his armpits to hold him up while he wobbles around the ice. Taylour takes baby steps, his feet kicking out every couple seconds, but Auston continues to support him. His back is killing him, same with his knees - never able to have good posture, but every time he hears Taylour’s little giggle it’s all worth it.

“Having fun?” Auston leans down closer to his ear.

“Yeah, again Daddy,” he giggles back, continuing to ‘run’ on the ice, Taylour’s laughter brings a genuine smile to Auston’s face – the first one in days.

“Auston,” a voice calls out from behind him.

Glancing to the bench, Auston begins to guide Taylour there. “Hey Kyle,” he calls once in earshot.

Picking Taylour up, Auston skates over to the bench, re-introducing Kyle to Taylour. “He’ll be coming for the number one center spot any day now,” Kyle teases, holding a fist out for Taylour who immediately fist bumps him back.

“Yeah, he’s getting there,” Auston chuckles. Setting Taylour on the boards he keeps his arm around him, keeping him in place.

“He’s a cute kid,” Kyle smiles.

“Yeah, there’s a lot of his mom in here,” Auston smirks.

“I don’t know,” Kyle looks at the facial features on Taylour and then to Auston. “There’s a lot of you in there too.”

“Probably more of his mom,” Auston says.

“Yeah…um…a lot of players who use the rink in the summer bring their kids. We have these available,” Kyle picks up a red plastic skating aid. “They are tucked over there,” he nods over towards the cinderblock wall. “Feel free to let him use it, your back will appreciate it.”

“Oh that’s great, thanks,” Auston takes the aide and sets it on the ice.

“How’s the leg been?”

“Daddy,” Taylour whines, tugging on his sleeve.

“Been good hasn't bothered me much and everything feels fine out here,” he replies, smiling towards Taylour.

“That’s good, glad to hear it.”

“Daddy,” Taylour huffs, “I want to skate.”

Kyle smirks and raises his eyebrows. “I’ll let you get back to it,” he laughs.

“Alright,” Auston pulls the aide closer and sets Taylour down in front of it. “Put your hands here,” Auston helps him get set up with a firm grasp on the bar, bending his knees slightly, “and push.”

Taylour slowly begins to push away, trembling every step. When he is about to fall, Auston springs into action, hands finding his waist to keep him upright. “I know your reaction is to catch him, learning to fall and how to stand up is an important part of hockey,” Kyle offers advice. “But you do you.”

Leaving them alone, Kyle walks down the hall and Auston turns to Taylour. Hovering a few feet behind he watches Taylour very slowly maneuver down the ice towards a faceoff dot. His footing becomes uneasy and he begins to stutter, this time Auston takes Kyle’s advice and lets it happen, watching as he continues to lose his balance and eventually falls.

“Ohh,” Taylour huffs, landing on his stomach, arms above his head.

“It’s okay,” Auston bends on one knee beside him. “Everyone falls.”

Taylour’s entire face turns into a pout, and tears look as if they hover beneath the surface. Auston immediately feels terrible.

“Daddy falls sometimes too,” he tries to offer some support, “you just have to stand back up.” He tugs the skating aide closer to him. ”Now, bend this knee,” Auston reaches over to help Taylour, holding the right skate firm to the ice for additional support. “Good, now put this hand here,” he brings his right hand to his right knee, “and the other one on the ice.”

Taylour does as he is told, and places his left hand on the ice. “Good,” Auston smiles, “now push up.”

He fumbles a little, and Auston sticks his arm under his armpit to hold him up, ensuring he doesn’t fall again. “I did it daddy!” pride radiates off him.

“Yeah you did!” Auston smiles back, sliding the aide to him to grab. While he appreciates Kyle’s advice, with everything going on he knows he can’t handle Taylour being upset and will not be letting him fall for the rest of the day.

“Are you mad about what he said, or the fact he is sleeping with someone else?” Emily asks. Lying on her back on Tia’s bed, she stares up at the ceiling as they try on the assortment of dress options in preparation for their upcoming graduation.

“He could fuck the entire town of Scottsdale for all I care,” Tia rolls her eyes. Circling the dress she puts a few pins in the length, holding it slightly higher, above the knee. “What do you think?” she asks Becks.

“It’s beautiful, obviously it’s beautiful,” Becks sways her hips, the plum sweeping skirt moving with every movement.

“I think the black one would be better,” Tia says, glancing at the one hanging on the back of her door.

“No, it’s too much for a graduation dress, this one’s better.”

“Celeste said you guys can keep them after though, you just have to let her post a pic on her Instagram page. The black one is stunning.”

Through the years Celeste was quick to realize that social media was the easiest way to expand her brand. By providing free clothing, she receives free models, along with traffic to her store and website.

“This is more my style, besides I won’t really wear the black one again after this. This one I can wear all the time. But you should wear the black one.”

“She did say you could keep one too,” Emily sighs. Pushing herself up from the bed, she grabs the floral one Tia pulled for her and heads to the bathroom.

“You’re wallowing.”

“Becks,” Tia groans. Every day since returning from Scottsdale, Becks has constantly been on Tia, watching her every move – waiting for any indication she is going to fall apart. Becks knows Tia is strong, and can handle almost anything, has done it time and time again. Becks also knows Tia has a soft spot for Auston, and all but collapses the second it involves him.

“I’m not wallowing, I don’t care about what he said. I’m fine.”

“You just need to get laid, fuck him out of your system,” Emily says. Stepping back into the bedroom she holds the sides of the dress, the back of the high-low skirt a little dragging on the floor. “It’s a little long.”

“Oh I know someone,” Becks quickly chimes in. “One of Camille’s friends, I think you’ll like him.”

“Please don’t set me up with someone,” Tia grumbles. “I’m not in a place to date. I have too much stuff going on.”

After toying with the idea of getting back together, Tia realizes she needs time. Not just from Auston, but men in general.

“We’re not talking about dating.”

Tia just rolls her eyes and walks over to Emily to examine the dress. Pulling the straps up she folds some of the fabric around the cup, and pins it in place, then crouches down to begin working on the length.

“These the shoes?” she asks, being met with a nod. “Taylour is the only man I have time for,” Tia carefully examines the pins, ensuring the length is even.

“He’s not even here, you could be getting laid right now,” Emily puts her hands on her hips, and eyes down to Tia.

“And you’re gonna get stabbed by a pin if you don’t stop,” Tia mutters, somewhat jokingly under her breath.

“Tia,” Becks groans.

“I don’t have time,” she pushes off the floor. “I literally have less than two hours until I need to be at work.”

“You don’t have to go to work every night,” Emily sighs.

“You need some time off, a night to yourself.”

“No, I need to go to work.”

While Tia currently has no intention of taking Auston to court, what happened made her realize she needs to be prepared. That’s why on top of her very low paying internship, which occupies 40 hours of her week, her class and assignments, she has forced herself to go to the club any night she doesn’t have Taylour. She’s lucky to get four hours of sleep those days, but she has to go to work.

June 7, 2019

“Tia, you need to sleep,” Abby sets a glass of water on the counter beside her. Tia has yet to take a break, up to all hours almost every night, straining herself. Coffee is the only thing running through her veins at this point.

“No.” With her elbow on the counter Tia leans her head against her palm, releasing a long and heavy yawn. “I need to work, I need the money.”

“Babe, you’re killing yourself, you can’t keep this up.”

“I’m okay,” she explains, grabbing her tumbler to take a slurp up the remnants of her iced coffee. Abby reaches for her money pouch and opens it up. Pulling out the bills from tonight, she counts them. “Tia you made over $370 tonight, that’s really good for a Thursday.”

“$370?” Tia turns to her friend who just nods, putting all the money back in. Being before midnight and not having to be awake until a bit later because of class, Tia could almost get 8 hours of sleep, the most amount of sleep she has had in weeks. “Okay, yeah, I guess I can leave.”

“Tia, Sarah, Tamara,” James calls out, poking his head in the change room. “Upper Brass is yours if you want it.”

Abby just sighs, and sympathetically brings her hand to Tia’s arm and gives her a soft squeeze. “Babe, just go, you did so good already.”

Pondering the idea, another yawn falls from her lips, followed by another. She could use the sleep but staying could almost double her money, maybe even more. Glancing to James in the mirror she nods at him, “I’ll be fine Abby.”

Changing into a black strappy set, one that leaves very little to the imagination and stepping into her bright red stilettos, Tia reapplies her lipstick, bringing forth as much confidence as she can. With one final look in the mirror and a fluff up her hair, she adjusts her bra, pushing her breasts further up into the cup.

“Hi boys,” she smiles, walking up to a group of ten men in the upper brass. “I’m Carmen.”

“Hey Carmen.” Hands find her shoulders and she is directed in front of a very tall dark haired man, wearing a watch that costs more than five months rent. “This is Jeremy, his girlfriend broke up with him two weeks before his birthday.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that Jeremy,” Tia smiles bashfully at him.

“He’s been really upset, barely convinced him to come out and celebrate his birthday,” another one of his friends explains. “He’s been miserable all night.”

“That’s too bad, birthdays are supposed to be fun,” Tia grins. Being what can only be described as a poorly paid therapist was always the least favourite part of her job.

Jeremy reaches down for her hands and takes a few steps back, falling into the couch. His eyes flick over her body, fully appreciating every part of it. The door opens and Sarah and Tamara walk in, being met by a chorus of cheers and comments, none of which Tia focuses on. Instead she starts her dance.

A few feet away, her hips are slow and sensual, teasing him. As time wears on and the song changes, the space closes and her knees are on either side of his hips. Reaching down for his hands she brings them to her waist, letting him gently stroke the pads of his thumb over her warm skin.

“So, Carmen, tell me about yourself.”

Thirty minutes later and Tia’s top is off, her back to his chest, her ass low, pressing against the denim on his thighs. She went through the entire story of Carmen – a Ryerson student working her way through school – a story very similar to her real life, minus Taylour.

Sarah is off on another ouch, dancing for a group of men. Tamara spends her time, chatting with a few others, flirting and playfully laughing while keeping their drinks full. Jeremy shifts behind her, lifting up his one hip to remove something from his pocket. Shortly after she hears a loud sniff and feels him shake his head. “Want some sweetheart?”

Holding his hand out, Tia sees a small pile of white powder resting between his index and thumb. Sarah catches her gaze, before they drop back down to his hand then back to her friend. Sarah looks terrified, as if she is silently pleading with her to say no.

Without a second thought, Tia leans down. Plugging one nostril, she presses her face against his hand, sniffing in the powder.

It does exactly what she needs it to do. Within about twenty minutes she begins to feel alert, energized, and her movements become harder, more fluid, pressing further against the denim on his legs. The groans and curse words become louder, an indication he appreciates her performance. Within an hour, everyone except for Sarah has done it, some multiple times. Tia, having the energy she needs, opts to not take another hit, but Jeremy has taken two more.

Chest to chest, her arms softly thrown over his shoulders and a heavy flirtatious grin on her face, Tia continues to dance. Jeremy’s eyes are locked on hers, lips licking his parted lips. “We’re going to take this back to Tim’s place, you want to come?”

“No, I’m okay.” Tia struggles not to laugh.

“Ah come one,” he pleads, squeezing her waist harder than he has all night. “We’ve been having so much fun Carmen.”

“Mhm,” Tia’s lips are near his ear. “Unfortunately our fun ends here.”

Some men are relentless, not willing to take no for an answer. The way Jeremy is looking at her, eyes flicking over her face, lips slightly parted, Tia thinks he may be one of those men. After a minute he sighs and lets her go, “I had a really good time Carmen.”

“Me too,” Tia smiles, reaching for her bra. “I hope I helped fix your broken heart.”

“You started the job,” Jeremy grins. “I’ll finish it later.”

Tia walked out with over $600 in her bag. Wearing a hoodie and ball cap over her long brown hair, she opted to walk home and burn off some of her pent up energy. She stopped for a poutine and continued to the bank, depositing all the bills from the night she took a second to look at the balance. For the first time in months she actually has a significant amount in her account. Barely into June, and she has July’s rent fully saved, and a few more shifts will have the other bills covered, a feeling she hasn’t felt in a veeeeery long time.

Every day with Taylour was more of the same. He woke up – early – they had breakfast and played with his toys, Auston would make them lunch and they would go skating, stopping for ice cream on the way home. By the time they were home Taylour would be asleep giving Auston about an hour before his nap ended. Then came dinner, more play time, followed by a movie and bath, then story time.

On his last day Auston only has him until just after lunch. Unable to go skating or do much of their routine, Auston decided to take advantage of the amazingly warm temperatures, and took him to SOCO’s rooftop patio. Sitting in a corner table, Auston positioned himself with his back to the rest of the guests, hoping to be as indiscreet as he can be in Toronto

Seated practically under the CN Tower Taylour’s eyes are wide as he marvels at the building. “It’s so big Daddy,” his head cranes upwards, trying to take it all in.

“Yeah,” Auston chuckles, always fascinated at the way he sees the world. “You want to go up there?”

Taylour’s gaze instantly finds Auston, and his eyes bug out of his face. “We can go there?” complete shock is in his words.

“Yeah, we can go after lunch,” Auston smiles.

He coloured on the activity mat they were provided, an array of blue, green and yellow scribbles – nothing in the lines. Taylour ordered a cheeseburger with chocolate milk - his ‘favourite’ - at least for today. He had ketchup on his cheek and a chocolate milk mustache. Nobody bothered them. They either didn’t recognize him – it wasn’t overly busy on the patio at that time of day – or they decided to not interrupt him while out with his son. Taylour wasn’t fussy or whiny. Everything about it was perfect.

“Thank you,” the waitress rips the receipt paper and hands the copy to Auston. “Have a good day.”

“We’re going to the tower,” Taylour points up, a wide smile spreading on his face.

“Oh you’re going to have so much fun,” she replies, giving him a warm smile back.

Standing up, Auston slides his phone into his back pocket and checks to ensure he has everything, then helps Taylour out of the high chair. “Let’s go get –“

“Hey Auston, can I get a picture?”

Cursing under his breath, Auston’s shoulders drop. Turning to the side, he sees a mid-twenty year old, wearing a backwards ball cap and a black tee under a navy blue plaid shirt, thick framed glasses on his face. Glancing around, he sees no child, just him, an adult interrupting lunch with his son.

“Sorry man, I’m with my kid,” Auston explains, not wanting to put Taylour through that, or trying to find a way to explain it in a way he’d understand. Taylour has no idea who Auston is, he understands he plays hockey, but there is no way he could fathom the impact he and the team have on this city.

“It’s just a picture.”

“Yeah, and I have my son. What do you expect me to let him do? Wander around on a roof unattended so I can take a picture with you? Sorry, but I have to watch my kid.”

“It will take 5 seconds,” he pesters, unenthused with the response.

“Daddy, I go potty,” Taylour announces.

“What?” Auston turns to Taylour, completely shocked. Ever since the backwards steps Taylour took in regards to potty training, they stopped, put everything away and decided to wait until he seemed more ready. Auston had no idea what they were waiting for, how to tell when he would suddenly become ready, him saying he needs to go to the bathroom seems like a sign.

“I got go potty,” Taylour repeats, a slight whine in his voice.

“Yeah…okay, let’s go,” he fumbles out. Brushing past the guy Auston can hear him grumble something under his breath. He loves playing in Toronto, sometimes it can be a lot.

“Alright…” Auston sets him down once inside the family bathroom. Pulling his pants and diaper down, Auston helps him up onto the toilet and holds him in place, ensuring he doesn’t slip through the hole of the toilet seat.

This has to be new. Auston thinks to himself, waiting for him to finish. No matter how mad Tia was, she wouldn’t keep anything about Taylour from him. She would put him first, 100% of the time.

Helping him down and back into his clothes, Auston washes both of their hands. “Let’s get you a treat for telling me, such a big boy.”

“Can I have Smarties?” His eyes light up.

“Of course you can.”

After buying Taylour three boxes of Smarties - and letting him eat two – they went to the CN Tower. They stepped into the glass elevator, which Taylour thought was cool until it started moving, then the idea of being on the outside of a building with a clear view of the city began to overwhelm him. Luckily under a minute later they were at the lookout deck with floor to ceiling windows.

Auston grabbed Taylour’s hand and let him lead the way. Walking right up to the floor to ceiling windows, Taylour points out to the city, “is that my house?”

“Uh,” Auston pulls him over a bit and points to the general direction of his building. “Your house is over there.” He points in another direction, “and daddy’s house is over there.”

“Wow!”

Next Taylour tugs Auston to the side with Lake Ontario and looks out over the endless blue, pointing out the countless boats he can see. And back to the city. Then back to the lake. Auston can barely keep up with his excitement, running back and forth through the lookout.

“Want to go to the see-through floor?”

“Yes.” Taylour quickly replies.

Stepping back into the elevator they wait for it to ding. Still holding Taylour’s hand they walk towards the glass floor, but he slowly begins to taper off. Once at the edge where solid floor meets the glass, Taylour gives his hand a hard tug, not wanting to continue.

“No Daddy.”

Auston crouches to be at his level, and watches the joy from before be replaced with fear. “It’s okay, I promise you it’s safe.” Auston leans over and looks straight down to the people walking on the ground beneath him.

“No,” Taylour shakes his head, uninterested with it.

“Look,” Auston stands up, leaving Taylour on the solid floor he takes a step backwards onto the see-through floor, to show him that it is in fact safe. “See? I’m okay.”

Auston is instantly met with a quivering lower lip and tears flooding his pupils. He quickly steps off and picks Taylour up, only to be met with a sharp cry in his ear. Soothing his hand over his back, Auston walks away from the glass floor, to a nearby bench and sits down, cradling Taylour in his arms. “You don’t have to go on it,” Auston reassures him, lips near his ears. “We won’t go on it, I promise.”

Taylour softly sniffles against his shoulder, burying his head against his neck. Auston continues to console him, rubbing his hand over his back. He earns a few sympathetic smiles from passing parents, even a faint chuckle or two. After a few minutes Taylour finally pulls his head from Auston’s shoulder.

“It’s scary,” he voice trembles as he points to the floor.

“It’s okay, I won’t let anything happen to you.” Using the pad of his thumb he wipes away the tears that cling to his cheeks. “We won’t go on it. Promise.”

“Okay,” he sniffles a few more times.

“Want to go back up to the windows?” He shakes his head no.

“Want your last box of Smarties?” He softly nods. Chuckling under his breath, Auston reaches into his pocket and pulls them out. Cracking the box open he pours a couple into his hand for Taylour to take.

By the time they stepped off the elevator on the ground floor, the box was half gone. And by the time it was fully done Taylour was smiling and laughing with a little chocolate around his lips, telling Auston some story about Paw Patrol, as if the entire thing didn’t happen.

“Sorry I’m here,” a frazzled Tia runs through the door, dropping her tote full of fabrics onto the table.

“Tia, dear,” Celeste laughs, flicking her wrist to look at her watch. “You’re early, almost ten minutes early.”

“My dad’s military,” she begins to explain.

“Ah, say no more,” Celeste grins. “No need to kill yourself, if you’re a few minutes late it’s not a big deal, life happens.”

“Right.” Setting down her coffee, Tia unbuttons her oversized white blazer, revealing her white lace tank.

“Oh this shirt,” Celeste gawks, grabbing the sides of her jacket to open it more, fully taking it in. The floral white lace, low cut, showing just enough of her breasts to capture your attention but not enough to be considered too revealing. “I love it.” Running her hand along the hem, Tia shrugs the jacket off to give her a glimpse of the even deeper cut back. “Where did you get it?”

“I saw similar ones on the runway a few years ago, but I couldn’t afford them.”

“You made this?” Celeste’s eyes go wide as Tia nods, a faint blush hitting her cheeks. “This is stunning, the material is incredibly hard to work with.” Talking almost to herself, Celeste continues to examine the shirt, the cut, the stitches, the intricacies of it. “Do you make a lot of your clothes?”

“Sometimes,” it’s kind of a lie, having made nothing outside of assignments over the past few weeks. “Life can be a little busy with school and a two year old…I try though.”

“You should show me some of your pieces, if they are like this I’d love to see about getting them in the store.”

“Really?” Tia’s eyes go wide, following a huge grin.

Getting her clothes in a store, creating a brand, her dream faded over the years. Her attention shifted to raising Taylour, doing everything she needed to support him. Somewhere along the way she lost a bit of herself, and this dream started to feel unattainable.

“Yes, I’ve seen veteran designers struggle with this, it can fray the second a needle hits it, this is really impressive. You have real potential.”

“Mommy!” Taylour runs right to her, leaving a shocked Auston at the door. Still flying from her conversation with Celeste, she didn’t even think twice about having to see Auston, nothing could bring her down.

“Hi baby!” She closes the door to her bedroom and instantly picks him up for a big hug. He wraps his arms around her neck, legs dangling at the side. “What did you do with Daddy?”

“We skate, and I went to the tower.”

“The tower?” Tia sets him on the counter so he is close to her eye line. “Was it fun?”

“I saw our house,” he nods in her arms.

“Really?” She laughs softly, brushing some of his curls to the side and out of his eyes. “You go on the glass floor?”

“No.” He is very quick to shake his head.

“No?” her brows furrow slightly.

“We tried, the floor scared him.” Auston finally speaks up.

“Yeah, the floor is scary.” Tia acknowledges him. Barely. But it still counts. “You had fun?” She returns her attention to Taylour.

“Yes.” Taylour nods.

“Good.” She kisses his cheek again. “What else did you do?”

“I had Smarties.”

“Smarties? Wow!”

“Mhm. I play now?” he looks over to the living room. Smiling, she places a final kiss on Taylour’s cheek and puts him down to the floor.

Auston lets out a deep exhale and decides to use this opportunity to talk to her. Even if a small, limited conversation, it would be better being outright ignored. If she was completely opposed to the idea of seeing him she wouldn’t be, what does he have to lose by talking? “He got the Smarties because he went potty.”

“What!?” Her head snaps to meet his gaze. “That’s amazing!”

Having not seen her for days, Auston had no idea how she was doing or what she looked like. While physically she looks the same, brown hair and eyes, she seems tired. The bags under her eyes have only gotten darker, there is a redness to her pupils, the result of not sleeping. More than anything she seems hollow, broken, defeated.

“Yeah, we were at lunch and he just told me he had to go potty. Was weird.”

“I’ve been watching Charlie a little and she is potty trained, maybe he’s picking up on it.”

“Yeah, maybe,”

“He just told you? You didn’t ask him?” there is an obvious excitement in her tone.

“Yeah, he just said Daddy I have to go potty.”

“Oh my gosh, that’s amazing.”

“Yeah.” While for different reasons, they both smile.

June 10, 2019

“Can we talk?” Auston asks, having dropped a sleeping Taylour in his room, he walks towards the living room.

He feels somewhat at ease with her for the first time in a while. She is still uptight at times, but when he called to FaceTime yesterday she actually asked how he was, a faint smile fighting it’s way to the surface while she tried to corral Taylour. And when Taylour ran away to show Auston a toy only to become distracted by Peppa Pig playing on the TV, Tia popped on the screen and talked, asking Auston if he wanted to spend the day with him instead of him going to daycare.

Their conversations and interactions have still been brief - no longer lingering in the apartment to catch the other up on their day like a few weeks prior. Now the limited conversations are beginning to flow easily, limited hesitancy or resistance on her end. Baby steps, but progress nonetheless.

“Yeah,” she walks over to the couch and grabs the basket of clean, unfolded laundry and moves it to the floor to clear some space. Then she grabs the pile of unfolded and wrinkled towels the basket had been sitting on and tosses them on top of the clothes, sighing heavily. “I’ve been busy with work,” she explains about the mess.

“It's fine,” he sits down.

“What’s up?” she asks him.

“I was supposed to have him Saturday,” he starts.

“Yeah, and then you were bringing him back Monday?” It’s not meant to be a question.

“Yeah…my agent just called, EA needs to do some reshoots this weekend. I’ll be busy and in a hotel this weekend. I don’t know how much time I’d even have with him.”

“You want him to stay here?” she asks.

“It will be easier.” With just two nights together, it made sense for Auston and Taylour to stay in Toronto. The re-shoots are happening in LA, and flying Taylour for such a short time, only to spend no time with him, it’s not fair to Taylour. “My mom said she could come here for the weekend if you need her to watch him.”

“It’s fine,” she sighs, adjusting the glasses on her nose. “I can manage.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” She did it for two years before he came along.

“Thanks. Are you feeling okay?” He asks, noting she has been wearing her glasses almost every time he’s seen her.

“Yeah, just tired and having a never ending list of shit to do.”

While Tia has always juggled work, school and Taylour, she didn’t have an internship taking up time on top of her other commitments. There was a balance, nights she did absolutely nothing except watch movies with Taylour and fall asleep early.

Now there isn’t enough time. Her apartment is in shambles in need of a good deep clean, laundry piling up in almost every room. Wanting to please Celeste, Tia finds herself working on pieces, or conducting research long after Taylour is asleep, often losing track of the time until it's well past midnight.

It doesn’t make sense why she is struggling to manage everything. She has Auston, who has Taylour 50% of the time. It should be easier for her to get everything done while he is gone and spend her nights and days off with her son.

Since that night with Jeremy and his friends, Tia has found herself using cocaine more than she cares to admit. She told herself it would only be at the club – which it has - and only when she needs a pick-me-up during her shift. She just happens to be in need of a pick-me-up during most of her shifts.

“You want some help?” he genuinely offers, knowing he would do just about anything if it helped smooth things over.

“You want to fold my laundry?” she scowls.

“Yeah, if it will help,” he shrugs. Reaching out to the pile he grabs a towel and folds it once and then a second time, leaving it in the shape of a large, poorly folded square whose corners don’t even line up.

Shaking her head, she reaches out and grabs the second one from his hand before he can even start. “This,” she nods to the towel he ‘folded’ and chuckles lightly, the first laugh he has heard in weeks. “This is terrible.”

“If you show me I’ll do it right.”

“No you won’t,” she laughs him off, tossing the towel back onto the pile. “This can’t be helped.”

June 17, 2019

Standing outside, the stagnant June air is hot against her skin, the humidity quickly reaching a high for this time of year. Not a cloud in the sky, the scalding sun burns her shoulders left virtually exposed by the thin straps of her dress. A bead of sweat rolls down her back and she holds a fussy Taylour, watching as the 2019 graduates slowly make their way outside.

“Mommy,” Taylour huffs. After two hours of sitting in the same chair, listening to the speeches, watching people walk across the stage he is beyond bored. A fact he repeatedly told Tia during the ceremony. And as a result has constantly been asking her to ‘take him to see daddy.’

After having to reschedule his time, it has almost been ten days since Taylour saw Auston. There has never been a stretch where they have been apart this long, throughout the summer it has rarely been more than three days. Taylour becomes more agitated every day when Tia tells him that he won’t be seeing Auston, and constantly whines while on FaceTime, begging him to come visit. Anytime Tia tells him ‘no’ or tries to correct his behaviour he has a meltdown, crying to see Auston, because ‘daddy wouldn’t say no.’

To make it worse, because the NHL awards are tomorrow there is little she can do to appease him. She didn’t think it would be this hard, or his constant pestering would get under her skin as much as it has. Fortunately, in two days Tia flies him to Arizona - though she does have to immediately hop on a plane and return home. She is hopeful he won’t be like this when he returns.

“Is that Uncle Max?” Tia points him towards Max and Emily who are finally finding them in the crowd.

“You look cute,” Emily smiles to Taylour, “like your sunglasses.”

“My daddy bought me it,” he replies, rocking a white button up shirt with small aviator sunglasses on his face. “Can we go home now?” Taylour whines against Tia, a sharp yawn spilling from his lips.

“Not yet,” Max pulls Taylour from her, and places his graduate hat on his head, setting the tassel on the left side. “You haven’t had ice cream yet. Every graduate gets ice cream.”

Taylour’s eyes fire up and Tia immediately regrets putting him in white. Scanning around the crowd she finds Becks and Camille posing for some pictures with her family and walks over to them.

“Where’s my nephew? I need pictures with him,” Becks barely even acknowledges Tia.

“Trust me, you don’t,” Tia laughs. “He is in a mood.”

Becks shoots her a knowing glance and Tia continues, “he is threatening to walk to Arizona, might just let him.”

“Kid has so much attitude,” Becks laughs. Tugging the two of them over by the fountain they pose for pictures together. “Wonder where he got it from,” she teases, winking at Tia.

“You’re the worst,” Tia rolls her eyes.

“Uh-uh, you made me godmother for a reason.” Standing in the middle of them, Becks puts a hand on both their backs, smiling for her mom.

“Why don’t you just take him to see Auston?” Camille asks, not fully aware of the situation between her and Auston.

“I would if I could,” Tia rolls her eyes, still smiling towards Becks mom. “The NHL awards are tomorrow, so we’re not going to see him until the day after.”

“Auston could take him to the award show,” Camille suggests.

“No.” Tia instantly shuts that down.

“Why not?” Becks turns to look at her, her jaw falling slightly.

“You were not there today. He whined and groaned every minute, the couple beside us gave so many dirty looks.”

Tia knows the award show is not the place for a 2 ½ year old. He isn’t even at the age where Tia would take him to a movie because if he gets fussy everyone around has to experience it too. The only reason he made it through the hockey game was the countless other things happening between the whistles and intermission that helped keep him occupied.

“I think he’d be so excited to see Auston, and all the energy from the show, he’d love it. If not, well it’s Auston’s problem,” Becks adds in.

“Oh, Trevor!” Camille calls out, waving to two men who are walking by. A tall dark haired man stops and turns around, scanning the crowd.

“Cami,” he grins, finally spotting her. Walking over he gives her a big hug. “Congrats on graduating.”

“Thanks, what are you doing here?” she asks, his graduation date was last year.

“We’re friends with some of the rugby players graduating this year, and came to support them.”

“Oh that’s nice, I want you to meet my girlfriend Becks.” Becks turns to the men and greets them, Tia stuck off to the side, thinking about how Taylour would love Vegas. He’d get to see Auston, if the flight was early enough he could spend the entire day at the pool, Tia could even find a hotel room and watch Taylour for Auston while he was at the awards and fly back the next day, avoiding spending almost 8 straight hours on a plane.

It could work, it’s just a matter of if she wants to do it.

“This is my friend Tia,” Becks puts her hand on her back and pushes her forward towards the group.

“Hi,” she stumbles. Squinting from the blinding sun, she pulls her sunglasses from her pocket and slides them on her face.

“Tia, that’s a really pretty name.” the other guy smiles down at her.

“Oh thank you,” heat hits her cheeks and her gaze drops slightly, luckily he can’t tell through the dark tint of her sunglasses.

“I’m Thomas,” he smiles, holding a hand out for her to shake.

“Well we have to go,” Trevor adds. “It was nice meeting you ladies, Cami, let’s grab drinks soon.”

Tia’s eyes lingered, probably a little too long. She can’t tell if the pants are a little too tight, if the heat is causing her to hallucinate or if he just looks that good. Either way, she can’t look away, missing the silent exchange between Camille and Becks.

“There’s a lot of flights,” Camille finally says. Or maybe she had been talking all this time and Tia was too distracted to notice.

“What?”

“To Vegas, tons of them, leaving tonight and early tomorrow. You could just change your flight from Scottsdale to Vegas.”

“Who’s going to Vegas,” Emily squeals, stepping on the other side of Becks, the three adjust slightly and smile for more pictures.

“Tia,” Becks nudges her playfully. “She’s going to take Taylour down for the awards.”

“I don’t know,” she glances over to Taylour who has ice cream dripping off his chin and onto his and Max’s shirts. “The last two times we spent time together it did not go well.”

“I feel like everything that could go wrong with you two already has,” Emily grins. “What else could happen?”

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