#—the work for more than a few months. you gotta be realistic or you’ll fall apart

[2soft2sensitive]

”we should plant fruit trees by the sidewalk” bro have you ever been within fifteen feet of a fruit tree on a hot summer day? the stench of rotting fruit is awful (and no, you can’t pick every single fruit off the thing, it will inevitably drop some of the fruit and it will not all be suitable to eat)

not to mention dropped fruit creates tripping hazards, and can be difficult for ppl with mobility aids to navigate.

and not to mention the bugs it attracts. stinging insects are not fun to have so close to where people are walking, especially when those insects include bees, since there are ppl that are deathly allergic

like. idk y’all. I know it sounds so nice on paper but you gotta think about this logistically. who is gonna clean up the rotting fruit? you can hire people, but they’re not always gonna be around all the time— and who is going to pay them?

you can have the locals clean it up, but inevitably people will shirk their duties— no one wants to clean up stinky ass fruit with bugs all over it, so they will put it off, hoping someone else will come in and do it for them

and then the fighting over whose job it is and who isn’t pulling their weight will be insane. people absolutely love getting in stupid fights for stupid reasons

because as much as people have the capacity to be kind and caring and take care of each other, they can also be petty and selfish and spiteful. you have to plan for both!!

so yeah, idk. anytime someone says that about the fruit trees I just kinda assume they haven’t really thought any of their ideas through. 😅

[redgillan]

Under Pastel Skies - 3

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 2,587

Warnings: none

A/N: I wanted to give Reader a family and this is the easiest way to do it. Btw Peggy’s husband isn’t Steve, I have other plans for him ;) Enjoy!

Wannabe sugar daddies don’t interact, idc if you have money, eat it and leave me be.

The rest of the week went by, and you kept hoping Bucky would come back. You hadn’t seen him since he’d left 300 dollars under his napkin after visiting you at work. You had tucked the bills into your bra, knowing they would be safe there, and walked home at the end of your shift.

Now it was Thursday afternoon and you were craving a day off.

Natasha’s apartment was spacious and the oversized glass window bathed the living room in natural sunlight. The apartment was a gift from Sam. Obviously.

You dropped your purse on the sofa –your bed- and laid out the bills on the coffee table. It was made of marble and brass, another gift from Sam.

You didn’t know what to do with the money, so you took it wherever you went, to keep it safe. You wanted to return it to Bucky. It was too much and you weren’t used to random acts of kindness.

You sunk into the cushion and blew out a sigh as you stared at the money. The persistent vibration of your phone against your thigh pulled you out of your thoughts. Half expecting it to be Natasha, you answered without looking at the caller ID.

The operator told you that Scott Lang was calling from Saint Quentin State Prison, and asked if you would accept the charges. You agreed. You always agreed.

“Splotchy, I need your help.”

Closing your eyes, you let your head fall back against the cushion. “I told you to stop calling me that, Scott.”

It was a silly nickname.

As a child, your mother dubbed you splotchy because of the colourful doodles you painted on the living room walls, and your siblings, who were roughly a few years older than you, had loved using that nickname. Especially since they knew you disliked it.

Their support and endless enthusiasm played a big part in your artistic journey, nurturing that spark into a flame. What started out as a childlike fascination with colours and shapes became your whole life. No one was surprised when you decided to pursue a degree in fine arts.

After the death of her husband, Peggy Carter adopted five children; a little boy from San Francisco, a little girl from Wakanda, twins from Sokovia and a little girl whose birth parents were still in high school. You were the last one, the only one she adopted as a baby.

“Is it offensive to call an artist splotchy?”

“It’s irrelevant. I haven’t painted in months,” you replied. “And we’re not kids anymore, you can use my name.”

“I’ve been calling you Splotchy for so long, I forgot your actual name.”

“You’re so funny,” you deadpanned. “What do you need, Scott?”

Scott’s tone changed suddenly, his voice grew agitated. “I need you to call Maggie. She isn’t picking up when I call her.”

“Scott,” you sighed.

“I haven’t talked to Cassie since her birthday,” he cut you off, pleading. “Please, I just want to talk to my little girl.”

Maggie was Scott’s ex-wife. Six months after his incarceration, she had filed for divorce. Natasha thought it was a real dick move but you didn’t blame Maggie. She was alone, her husband was in jail –for basically being a dumbass although the official charge was embezzlement and destruction of property- and she had a kid to raise.

Maggie wasn’t a saint but she was a good mother, and Cassie was a smart and healthy kid. Now you knew what to do with Bucky’s money.

“I’ll call her,” you said. “Listen, I’m going to put 50 bucks on your book. Buy yourself a bar of soap, I can smell you from here.” Scott interrupted you with a monotone ‘har har’. You chuckled. “I’ll buy Cassie a Christmas gift on your behalf, all right? I think she wanted a bike.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,” he chanted over the phone, his voice muffled as if he was holding the receiver too close to his mouth. “Are you sure you can afford it? I know it isn’t easy for you. Between living in New York and paying for mom’s nursing home, you don’t have to-”

“It’s fine,” you said, cutting off the conversation. “I’m not alone, Okoye helps.”

“And Wanda?”

“She sends postcards from time to time.”

The line went quiet for a moment. “I want to get out of here so bad,” Scott groaned. “Everything’s gone to shit since I went to jail.”

“Everything’s gone to shit since Pietro died, Scott.” You both remained silent, remembering your late brother. Just thinking about him made your eyes start to prickle with tears, so you cleared your throat and ended the call. “I’ll talk to Maggie. You’ll be out soon, just... stay out of trouble. Love you.”

You left your phone on the table and kicked off your shoes before you lay down on the sofa for a well-deserved nap. In your dreams your brothers weren’t either dead or in prison, your mother hadn’t been diagnosed with Alzheimer, and you weren’t a burden to your friend.

If you were lucky enough, you wouldn’t even dream at all.

The next day, Bucky arrived at the hotel at six thirty and you playfully glared at him from across the lounge. He wasn’t stupid, he knew why you were glaring at him. At least he had the decency to look a little sheepish.

“Just so you know, you bought yourself about 30 breakfasts,” you told him, referring to the far-too-generous tip he had left the other day.

“A man’s gotta eat,” he replied with a boyish cockiness that made him look stupidly attractive. You were too flustered to find a good comeback.

You brought him his cup of coffee and let him enjoy his breakfast while you attended to your other clients. It was an unusually busy day, the room was packed with families who were getting ready to explore Manhattan. You didn’t have time to chat with Bucky and he didn’t stay long. You saw him flinch a couple of times; the muscles in his shoulders pulled tight and his eyes darting left and right.

He left another ridiculously generous tip, along with a handwritten note. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day x.

Bucky came back the following week, and even though it was a quiet morning, you made sure to find him a table in a secluded spot. He didn’t notice when you slipped the 300 dollars into the pocket of his coat. You could be pretty sneaky, too.

“Mmmh,” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin, “I looked at your Instagram.”

“Oh,” you glanced at your shoes, embarrassed. “Wait, you’re on Instagram? I have a hard time imagining you scrolling through your feed.”

He laughed a little. “I’ll admit I’m not as tech savvy as you youngsters, but I’m not a fossil. I use it to look at the pictures my sister post of my niblings.”

“Cute,” you grinned.

“Anyway,” he said, pushing a hand through his hair. “I love your work. It’s very unique; a cross between Impressionism and Post-impressionism. It’s realistic, and yet there’s something different...” his face scrunched up as he tried to look for the right word. “There’s something in your paintings, something that isn’t here in real life but perhaps should be. It’s hard to explain. It’s a feeling, a color, a pattern; it’s indiscernible but it’s there.” He looked up at you, his cheeks red with embarrassment. “I’m not making much sense, am I?”

You blinked, suddenly stunned that someone had such strong opinions about your work. There was nothing but sincerity in his ocean-blue eyes, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words.

“I, um-” you cleared your throat, “Thank you, I didn’t know that. I look up to Monet, obviously. His work is phenomenal, and I also have a soft spot for Van Gogh.” You ran a hand across your face. “Sorry, I’m a little emotional. The people who compliment my art are usually my siblings, and Nat.”

“And now me,” he said with a warm smile. “And soon a lot more people.”

Flustered, you bit your bottom lip. “That would be nice.”

Bucky nodded. He gathered his silverware and set them on his plate, trying to buy time. You watched him hesitate before he turned to you. “I noticed that your last post was from almost a year ago.”

“Yeah,” you said with a casual shrug. “I don’t really paint anymore. I’m too tired when I get home and supplies are expensive.”

“Of course,” he pursed his lips in thought. “Are you free this afternoon? I was wondering if we could meet for coffee.”

You tried not to show your surprise but his words made the sleeping butterflies in your stomach crack an eye open, their interest piqued.

Was he asking you out? He’d come to your workplace every week since your brief ‘date’. He always gave you more-than-generous tips, and he listened to you with a combination of close attention and warmth that made you weak at the knees.

He’d made it clear he wasn’t looking for anyone but maybe he had changed his mind. Agh, down girl! He just wanted a friend.

You looked into his beautiful eyes, seeing a myriad of expressions cross his face before he smiled at you.

“I ain’t gonna hurt you, angel.”

It was an honest lie, just hearing him call you angel felt like a punch to the stomach. The butterflies were dancing around, reborn, and chanting the word ‘date’.

“If you don’t like coffee, we can have tea, or ice cream,” he said, “anything as long as you can sit down with me.”

You snorted. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated, smiling. “This is my number. Pick a place and I’ll meet you there.”

After breakfast, you closed the restaurant and started cleaning the Lounge. You brought everything back to the kitchen, stacked the dishes in the dishwasher and turned it on. Then you put away the unopened miniature jams, butter and whatnot, and gathered the remaining patisseries and fresh fruits in a basket that you would later bring to the reception.

You worked mechanically. It wasn’t exactly the most exciting job you’d ever had.

You couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky. It was easy to let your mind wander into the cosy and dangerous territory of this being a real date.

You decided to go to the Australian coffee shop near Natasha’s apartment. It was popular but not as crowded as Starbucks, which suited you fine.

After your shift, you removed your uniform and changed into the spare set of clothes you kept in your locker for emergencies. Emergencies being an impromptu date or a night out with Nat. You dug around in your purse for your lipstick; the nice one, the Carter Red as your mother called it.

You dabbed the lipstick on your lips, staining them. You only wore it on special occasions, and you weren’t sure Bucky deserved your full red pout.

You walked to the café with a little pep in your step and a confident smile on your face. The freezing temperature didn’t matter, you were too giddy to care. It was a date, it had to be, why else would he ask you to meet for coffee?  

You smiled when you saw him through the coffee shop window. He was chatting with the waiter as the latter set two mugs on the table.

“Hi again!” You shrugged out of your jacket and took a seat.

“I hope you like hot chocolate. Carl, here, says it’s their best seller,” Bucky said, smiling kindly at the waiter.

“Enjoy, and if you need anything else don’t hesitate to call me.”

You carefully wrapped your cold hands around your mug while you watched Carl walk away. A moment of silence rose between you. Bucky watched you with an unreadable expression, making you fidget in your seat.

“I’m glad you came,” he finally said.

“Me too. I’m a little surprised you asked.”

He looked down at his mug and smiled; it didn’t reach his eyes. “I have something to ask you.” He paused. “The night we met, you said you agreed to see me because being in a... financial relationship felt like the only solution to your problems.”

 Your smile faltered but he didn’t seem to notice. Oh. The butterflies in your stomach fell so suddenly that it felt like carrying a ball of lead. They went back into hibernation.  

“If I had been a decent person and, I don’t know, bought you a drink, talked to you,” he paused, meeting your eyes. “Would you have been interested in this type of relationship? With me, I mean.”

You swallowed hard. “You want to be my sugar daddy.”

It wasn’t a question but a statement. You were slowly realizing that you had been wrong about his intentions. This wasn’t a date, it was a business afternoon tea.

He winced. “Do we really have to call it that? I was thinking mentorship. I can provide financial help, and in exchange you could be my friend.”

“I can be your friend for free,” you said, your throat tightening.

He shrugged, a small smile on his lips. “This way we’ll both get something out of it.”

You looked down at your hands, still wrapped around the mug, and pursed your lips in thought. You felt a sharp tingling sensation in your nose, a sign that you were about to cry. You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw, fighting against the flood that was coming.

You pushed all the emotion down and forced a smile to your face. “Do you mind if I use the restroom? I just took the subway, I’d like to wash my hands.”

Bucky watched you, momentarily stunned by your request. “Of course, take your time,” he quickly recovered.

“Thanks,” you croaked, pushing your chair back.

You picked up your bag and walked to the restroom, your legs feeling like cotton wool. You didn’t need to use the restroom, you had walked to the café, but you needed a moment alone to collect yourself.

A woman came out of the restroom, holding the door open for you. You picked up the pace and thanked her before closing the door behind you. You looked pretty sickly under the artificial light of the restroom. Your eyes were glassy with tears and your red lips were taunting you.

“Got your hopes up, uh?” You watched your lips move. A little humourless chuckle escaped you and you shook your head at your own idiocy.

You aggressively wiped the lipstick off your mouth with the back of your hand and sighed deeply as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. Now you felt like an idiot.

It wasn’t Bucky’s fault. He had been nothing but nice and kind, and perhaps you had mistaken his kindness for flirting. A naïve mistake. You had always been a little clueless when it came to men.

You ran your index fingers under your eyes to get rid of the makeup that had gathered there. It wasn’t the end of the world, you barely knew him anyway. It didn’t hurt any less, though.

Maybe it was time for you to do something out of character, to experience life no matter how crazy it seemed. You were dreading this conversation with Bucky, but you couldn’t hide in the restroom forever. With another sigh, you pushed yourself away from the sink and walked out of the restroom.

Part 4

[songficsbyrissi]

Lost Ones (Spooky Diaz x Reader)

Warnings: cursing, angst, mentions of pregnancy, abortion, and deadbeat fathers.

“And I ain't too proud to tell you

That I cry sometime, I cry sometimes about it

And girl, I know it hurt, but if this world was perfect

Then we could make it work, but I doubt it” - J. Cole

****************

Oscar “Spooky” Diaz sat on the edge of the bathtub, holding the blue and white stick tightly like you didn’t just pee on it. For some reason, he thought staring at the digital screen would change from 1 word into 2. Unfortunately, it was still that one word.

Pregnant.

You, his girlfriend, was pregnant. When you had suspicions that you were pregnant, you secretly went to the store to purchase 3 pregnancy tests and once you took them, they all said that same word.

Pregnant.

You and Spooky were expecting a child and this was not good news at all.

“Oscar, please say something.” You whispered so softly, staring at him with dried tears on your face.

He remained silent, still staring at the test. His head was swimming with thoughts. Maybe you weren’t even pregnant. Maybe it’s a prank and you were lying, but you were not this good of an actress. Besides, you would’ve busted out laughing by now.

Then the thought came to him that maybe it wasn’t his but that thought got shot down quickly in his head. You loved him with all your heart. You wouldn’t do that to him.

Did you purposely get pregnant? What happened to birth control? Then again, if you were to purposely get pregnant, you would be jumping in joy and not sitting on the floor in despair.

You got up from the floor and walked up to him, taking his hands. Your pleading eyes made contact with his.

“Please talk to me. Say something.”

Spooky finally spoke. “How did this happen?”

You sighed shaking your head. “Well when a man and a woman love each other very much or like each other or they’re just drunk enough, they wanna express it in a physical way which happens to produce a baby.”

Spooky had an unimpressed scowl on his face. “That’s not funny.”

“Do you see me laughing?” You shot back, tilting your head. Your head came back into its original position and you sighed once again.

“We need to talk about this.”

“What’s there to talk about? We can’t have a kid. Talk over.” Spooky got off the bathtub, tossing the pregnancy test in the trash. He washed his hands and went into the fridge to get a beer. All you could do was watch him do all this in shock. He chugged down the beer and you stared at him with your arms folded.

“Seriously, Spooky?”

He slammed the fridge close, glaring at you. “Seriously what? You really think it’ll be a good idea for us to have a child?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “It’s not like we never talked about it.”

“Yeah, we talked about it. FOR THE FUTURE.” Spooky got close in your face, emphasizing the last 3 words. “The future where we’re older, smarter, making a lot of money and most importantly, married. We are none of that right now.”

“I know that, and I know that this isn’t the ideal situation to bring a baby in, but like it or not, it’s here.” Your arms were folded again. You were hoping he would have a better response to this.

“Not for long because you’re getting that abortion, right?” He questioned taking a swig of beer.

You had a look on your face, as if he slapped you hard across the face and spit in it. You could physically feel your heart break. The man you love doesn’t want you to have his child. You couldn’t believe it. He had to be joking. Spooky saw the shocked and hurt expression on your face and sighed. He didn’t mean to hurt you. He never means to hurt you but he had to be realistic here. This is a life that was being discussed. 

“I’m not trying to fight with you, Princesa. I’ve just been actually thinking. How are we going to raise a kid by ourselves? We are only 23!” He gestured all around you. “Does this seem like a good place to raise a kid? This neighborhood is dangerous. Where are we going to move to? Somewhere safer? Somewhere safer costs more money. Baby, I’m an ex-con. Only the jobs that barely pay shit hire ex-cons. We can’t live off your little receptionist job alone!”

You didn’t say anything. You just kept staring

at him with tears in your eyes. He took it as a sign to continue.

“Listen, I don’t want to bring mi hijo or mi hija in this world if I ain’t got shit to give them. I’m not going to leave but you gotta really think about it. Would it be smart for us to bring a child into this?”

Once your boyfriend finished his speech, you just backed away from him and stared out the window where kids were playing jump rope and riding their bikes outside. Little girls playing patty-cake and hopscotch while little boys played basketball and tag. You couldn’t stop the small smile that appeared on your face.

Looking out of the window gave you a bit of hope but Spooky didn’t see it. Maybe he didn’t want to see it.

“We have less than 9 months to figure something out.” You croaked out, still staring at the scene outside the window.

You heard a frustrated sigh behind you. “You’re not getting it.”

You finally turned around with angry tears flowing down your face. “No! You’re not getting it! You must’ve forgotten all the conversations we had way back! You remember those fucking conversations, Oscar?!”

He stared at you as the flashback hit him.

“It’s really crazy how Toya got pregnant. We’re only 21. We just became legal to drink and now she can’t.” You sighed as you laid your head on your boyfriend’s lap as he watched TV. He cleared his throat and didn’t say anything. He was always a man of a few words. Part of the reason why people feared him so much. Other than his little brother Cesar, you were the only person he would actually hold a full conversation with and talk for hours.

“Baby?” You said as you rose from his lap making eye contact with him. His hooded eyes focused on you. “What if we-“

“We’re not.” Spooky cut you off, already knowing where you were going with this.

“But what if.....we did?” You questioned softly. “And what would we do about it?”

Spooky groaned throwing his head back. “It’s not gonna happen. We’re smart.”

You folded your arms. “Smart people get pregnant too.” Your boyfriend inhaled deeply and didn’t say anything.

“The only 100% effective way to prevent pregnancy is not having sex and we’re obviously not going to do that.” You stated causing your boyfriend to snort in amusement and you elbowed him, rolling your eyes. “Seriously, Oscar. What if I was to get pregnant now? What would we do? What would you do?”

“I would do whatever it takes to make sure you and the baby are good. No matter what. The baby’s created and we gotta take responsibility because God don’t make mistakes. So if we tried to prevent it and you still ended up pregnant, we would just have to deal with it and make sure our child is born into a good situation.”

You just blinked because you were relieved that he wasn’t dismissing this conversation. He was actually thinking realistically. You saw him clench the bottle of beer he was drinking in anger.

“My father.....left me and Cesar and I still hate him for it. How am I supposed to be a father to him if I never got the chance to be a son? I always told myself that I would never put my child in that situation. It just starts a fucked up cycle and who knows when that cycle will be broken?”

Oscar shook his head as if he was trying to shake tears that were threatening to fall away. He took another drink of the beer. “I refuse to be him. I refuse to be a coward and turn my back on what I created.”

You smiled planting a soft kiss on his lips. “You’ll never be him.”

“Or did you forget that? Did you forget telling me that you wouldn’t turn your back on this? On us?”

“I’m not turning my back! I’m thinking realistically, Y/N!” Spooky began to shout now. He rarely shouted at you. That’s how you knew you were really under his skin.

“Oh really? Your exact words were-“

“I know what my exact words were! What you’re not getting is I changed my mind. People change, Y/N.”

You snorted in disbelief, laughing sardonically. “You sure did.”

“Don’t do that,” Spooky warned in a low voice coming closer but you didn’t back down.

“No! Fuck you Oscar! I should’ve known this is how you would act! You said you love me, now look at you! Singing a different song now that shit got real! I should’ve known you weren’t different from the rest. The rest of those guys who say whatever to get what they want! I LET YOU HIT RAW!” You pushed his chest as hard as you could, with your chest heaving up and down. “I let you fuck me raw, and now, I’m pregnant and you got the nerve to get in my face, talking about some abortion. This is my body, Oscar! I’m not aborting this baby! The only person taking this baby from me is God and last time I checked, YOU AIN’T GOD!”

“Y/N-“

“No! Shut the fuck up! I let you speak, and now it’s my turn!” You shoved a finger in his face as tears continued to roll down your face. “I’m going to love this baby, with or without you! My mom raised me by herself, and I’ll do the same with this child! I still don’t understand how you could be standing in my face, saying that when you said you hated your father and you would never be like your father! That you wouldn’t do that shit he pulled, but look at you! Doing the same shit! You ain’t shit! You ain’t shit to me, and as far as this child is concerned, you ain’t gonna be shit to them either.”

You got out of his sight, still holding a hand to your belly, and headed into the bathroom to continue crying your eyes out.

Spooky took a deep breath, trying to figure something out. He figured you didn’t mean what you said. You were just really upset. He had to make a decision. Stay here and wait for you to come out so you can probably talk about this or go out for a drive, giving you and him some space to cool down. He chose the latter, grabbing his keys and heading out the door.

On the drive, Spooky watched the scene where kids were playing and having fun. He began reminiscing about the times when Cesar was little and he would play with him outside. He remembered the tiny smile on his innocent face. He remembered how scary it was keeping Cesar safe on his own but he did it. He managed to raise his brother on his own and seeing that Cesar doesn’t want to be part of the Santos, he’d like to think he did a pretty good job.

Spooky doesn’t know how he did it but he managed to drive right to the park where he and his brother used to play on. There were still kids there. His hazel eyes focused on a little girl being helped by her dad on the monkey bars, giggling uncontrollably. Somehow, the little girl turned a little boy and her dad became....his dad. The little boy was him. He saw his younger self grin as he hung off the monkey bars and his father giving him a small smirk. The grin dropped a little. That memory happened before his father left his life and never came back.

“What about your seed, man?” His younger self looked straight at him and asked. Spooky’s eyes narrowed in confusion and he could’ve sworn he was seeing things.

“What about your seed?”

The vision returned back to the little girl smiling as she finished the monkey bars with her father grinning in pride. She hugged her father’s legs and he lifted her up, kissing her cheek repeatedly as she giggled in happiness. It was a beautiful sound.

He pulled off after he came to the conclusion that you and him had a lot to discuss. Maybe, he was too hasty, telling you to abort the baby. Maybe he was just scared and freaked out that he wanted the easy out but now he’s realizing it’s not necessarily what he wanted. But you were not going to find that out while he was out. He gotta go back home to you.

“Y/N?”

This house was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Spooky began to investigate. He went into the bedrooms and the bathroom. No sign of you anywhere. Your clothes were gone and you left no trace of you anywhere. You left him.

He took his phone out of his pocket to call you when a piece of paper on the counter caught his attention. It was handwritten and it only said two words.

You won.

Spooky clenched the note, falling onto the chair and just kept staring at those two words that managed to completely break his heart. What hurt the most is that he wasn’t sure what you meant by saying he won. Did you leave him for good, dedicated to being a single mother or did you change your mind, got the abortion, and left him because you hated him? Either way, you were wrong.

He was no winner at all in this situation.

TAGS: @karmawaelualani @chaneajoyyy @ctrlszn @witchything @sabrinafey @penguinpower17889 @robingreysantos @namjoonwatcheshentai @pananegra @bloatedandlonly @blackmissfrizzle @chonisberonica @flamingweasley @cynthetic @momobaby227 @this-glitter-pussay

If you wanna be added or removed, just let me knowwwww

[stillbandofbrothersthirsty]

As Far As Friends Go

Chapter 12 (Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4; Chapter 5; Chapter 6; Chapter 7; Chapter 8; Chapter 9; Chapter 10; Chapter 11)

Nixon - May 31 - June 6, 1944 “The tables are secure?”



“Yes.” “And do you have everything you need for your presentation to the officers and non-coms?” “Yes.”



“What about the pointer?"


Nixon whirled around to face Emily, “Shouldn’t I be asking you these questions?” “Well, everything should be packed up. I just want to make sure. I won’t be coming until after you, so I want to make sure you have everything you need before I get there,” Emily explained. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. I’m not presenting until after you get there.” It was early morning and the caffeine from Nixon’s first cup of coffee was still making its way into his bloodstream. Headquarters was consumed with movement; staff members darted in and out of the building carrying boxes full of maps and tools, carrying footlockers, crates of supplies which they loaded onto the backs of trucks. Emily held a clipboard upon which she had pinned a list of everything their department was responsible for. They were on brink of the allied invasion into Normandy. Once they got to Upottery Airfield, Nixon would be responsible for briefing the officers and the troops on the invasion plan. Every day up until the day of days he would be working to make sure every single paratrooper knew every single detail of the plan of attack. The atmosphere was buzzing with energy when Nixon climbed into his jeep; whether it was nervous or excited energy he wasn’t sure. The airfield was alive with action when Nixon arrived; men were putting up tents, unloading arms, and other supplies. “Nix,” Dick Winters walked over towards Nixon, “glad you could join us.” “Hard to believe it’s really happening, huh?” Nixon replied. “Any idea of where we’re going?”

“Oh so now you want me to tell you?” Nixon teased his friend who had shown barely any interest in his divulgement of information before. Winters shrugged and his mouth turned up slightly, “I think I have a bit of an idea.” “Well good, keep guessing. I’m not going to be responsible for the leak on this one - too risky.” “What happened to my fearless friend?”

“It’s not fear, it’s embarrassment I want to avoid.” Nixon said wryly, “what kind of intelligence officer would I be if I let the secret of the allied invasion slip?”

Winters narrowed his eyes at him as if trying to read his thoughts. “You’ll find out soon enough,” Nixon said and clapped Winters on the shoulder. Nixon had enough time to get settled in and to oversee the organization of the intelligence tent before Emily arrived with the remainder of the intelligence staff. In only a few hours, Emily and Nixon had to brief the regimental officers with the geographical details of the plan of action and what resources should be expected. The execution order of Operation Overlord had come from General Eisenhower himself so of course, Colonel Sink knew what his troops' objective was in the coming days. But the top-secret campaign into Normandy was a battle that intelligence staff across the allied nations had been waging for months. Since Dunkirk, codebreakers, scientists, and engineers had been preparing to return to the continent. Nixon and Emily had been part of that effort and now it was time to fill in their superiors on every tidbit of information that would help them achieve victory. “Alright gentlemen, let’s get started.” Colonel Sink sat down at the head of the table that stretched through a large tent, one of the first to be put up at Upottery. Emily passed around briefing memos and situation maps. “In theory, the only people in the regiment who know the who, what, and where about this invasion are in this room.” Sink scanned the limited faces of the most senior officers, “it is vital that we keep information on a need-to-know basis. That being said, it's about time we briefed our troops so that they are prepared when the day is decided, which will be any day now. Cap’n Nixon, and his lovely assistant here, are to fill us in on exactly what we need to know so that you all can inform your subordinates on the plan of action.” “Miss Rooney will you be able to take notes?” Lt. Colonel Strayer asked from Sink’s left. “Oh, uh I-,” “Miss Rooney was prepared to present actually,” Nixon jumped in, “she’s a professional cartographer and is an expert on the region.” “Oh,” Strayer looked between Nixon, Emily, and the other officers in the room, “but you know this stuff too right Nixon?” “I do, sir.”


“Then why don’t you present the information so Miss Rooney can take notes?”



“Sir, I-,” Nixon prepared to object. “Lewis, let’s not bicker like old fishwives. The notes are important. No offense, but I trust Miss Rooney’s handwriting more than yours.” Emily and Nixon exchanged a frustrated look of defeat. With pursed lips, Emily retrieved a pad of paper and took a seat in the corner behind Nixon. The enormity of what was about to be attempted settled across the tented room once Nixon finished the presentation. Colonel Sink cleared his throat, “okay men, I want every soldier in this regiment to know this area like the back of his hand. Let’s get the job done.” Sink stood up, prompting the other officers to rise, and walked out onto the airfield.


“Nicely done,” Emily said to Nixon once the room was clear. She began collecting the maps and memos left behind. “Thank you for putting it all together.” “Happy to do my job.” There was a slight bitterness in Emily’s voice, and Nixon couldn’t blame her. “Hey, I’m sorry about,” Nixon gestured vaguely, “ya know, all that.” “Don’t worry about it,” Emily said resignedly, “story of my life.” “Yeah but you’re a professional, you’re smart and capable.” “Thank you Lew, but even you thought of me as a secretary when I first arrived. Remember?”



Nixon winced at the memory. He didn’t know what to say. It was true, he had referred to her as a secretary despite her significant professional experience for her age. “Don’t worry about it,” Emily repeated, “I appreciate you trying to stick up for me.” She stacked the memos into a neat pile within a manila folder. “By the way, I’m headed south tonight.” “Already?” Nixon asked. Emily shrugged and tried to smile, “well, who knows when the day will actually be. Could be in five days, could be tomorrow. Don’t want to miss my ship.” “But you’re not going day of right?” “No,” Emily shook her head, “thankfully. I’ll go over a few days later with the nurses and other non-essentials.” “Non-essentials,” Nixon scoffed. “That’s me,” Emily winked at Nixon. “So I guess I’ll see you over there.” The space around them suddenly felt heavy. Her words felt insufficient. Best case scenario, they would see each other over there and the magnitude of that reality was not lost on either of them. Nixon searched for the right words. What was there to say when it was only a maybe goodbye?   He didn’t even want to acknowledge the chance that he may never see this woman again.

“I’ll see ya,” Nixon settled on. Emily held his gaze and smiled softly; nothing more needed to be said. Then in a breath, she exited out the tent flap and out of sight. A moment after she was gone a thought popped into Nixon’s head. He bolted out of the tent flap after her, “Emily!” he shouted. She turned and Nixon felt his breath leave him. Something about her innocent expression drenched in the evening's sun was stupefying. Then her face twisted into disgruntled confusion, “what?” she demanded. That was his girl, Nixon thought. Nixon walked a few paces towards her. “I’ve got something for ya,” he tossed her a little box. “What’s this?” she opened the plain, narrow box and tipped the contents into her palm. Out slipped an ornate gold tube of, “lipstick!” she shrieked. “Yeah,” Nixon shrugged, “not that you need it. But I noticed you were running out.”



“Bésame?” Emily read the label, “where on earth did you get this?” “I have my ways!” Nixon winked, “look at the shade.” “Victory red,” Emily smiled up at him. “Perfect isn’t it?” Nixon allowed himself to grin back at her, “perfect for you.” Emily threw her arms around his neck, “Thank you, Lew!” “Sure,” Nixon unwrapped her arms, “anyways, consider that my parting gift. Gotta have you looking good your first time in France.” The next couple of days were filled with adrenaline and anticipation as the men of the 506th prepared to be called into action. On June 4th, they thought the day had come but due to poor weather across the channel, the jump was delayed. Nixon could sense the tension among the men. Few feelings are worse than hyping yourself up for something that wasn’t to come. There was nothing to do but wait. Nixon took a sip from his flask and wandered outside for some fresh air. The moisture from the storm cooled the evening air. He sighed in relief; just a few steps outside felt like an escape from the nervous energy that permeated the musty tent. Nixon took another swig from his flask and leaned against one of the stacks of boxes. He was so glad to be away from everyone - he couldn’t bear the anxiety of the other men. It was difficult enough to stay focused and too easy to fall into a pit of fear. He had to stay optimistic. Winters must have shared in his restlessness because Nixon saw him emerge from between two tents. “I think it’s clearing up,” he said. Winters gazed up at the sky. “Think it’s clearing up?” Nixon asked walking over. “Nope,” Winters said, pulling on his gloves. Nixon shook his head. Winters was the eternal realist to Nixon’s ironic optimism. “I think it’s clearing up,” Nixon insisted. The two men began to walk down the airfield, the gray sky hanging above them. Nixon didn’t have the energy to discuss the inevitable. Winters didn’t seem to either but seemed contented to walk in silence, which Nixon was not. Determined to think of other things Nixon said, “Five o’clock in New York,” he paused, “four o’clock in Chicago.” “Happy hour huh?” Nixon chuckled, this was why Winters was his best friend. He met him wherever he was. With only a few words, they were on the same page; equally aware of the reality that faced them but understood that discussing it wouldn’t change anything at this point. So why waste the heartache? It was one of the longest nights of Nixon’s life. There seemed to be nothing to do and everything to do at the same time. How does one prepare for an experience they’ve never had before? Everything was organized, everything planned to the minute detail but who was to say what would actually happen when they touched ground in France? No one knew because no one had ever done it before.


Finally, on the night of June 5th, the 506th Airborne was cleared for departure. They would be dropping down into Normandy in the early hours of June 6th, only hours before the armies would storm the beaches. Nixon loaded into his plane and sat beside Colonel Strayer. They each had a map in hand and were discussing strategy as the remainder of the regiment geared and loaded up. Nixon didn’t have time to be scared. He had to make sure that everything was ready and in position for the men when they arrived at the assembly zone. If he were being honest, he was grateful to have a distraction. It kept the fear at bay as they lifted off the airfield and flew into the setting sun.

[officialleotolstoy]

Oh Natasha/Andrei brainrot we’re really in it now, aka Natasha/Andrei playlist annotations!

Honestly the age gap is so inherently uncomfortable it’s difficult for me to really ship this but I think in terms of the REALLY low bar of W&P marriages/almost-marriages, it’s one of the better ones because they at least mutually care about each other. It’s also just devastating on principle!

There are several distinct sections of song on here, this is one of the few I’ve actually put in a significant order, so I’m going to break it down into that.

Part 1: Initial Meeting/Falling In Love The First Time/General

Absolutely Smitten - dodie

“She wants to dance around the room, kiss you until her lips turn blue”

This song really reminds me of their first meeting when they’re both like 👀 at each other. I like how it captures the excitement but also nerves of the girl, which I feel like is an important feature of Natasha’s part of the relationship.

Helpless - Philippa Soo

“Tryin' to catch your eye from the side of the ballroom”

Sorry to all the ex-Hamilton stans I jumpscared with this, but it’s about the Philippa Soo Singing About Falling In Love vibe. Also the quoted lyric reminds me of their iconic dance scene, or at least the bits leading up to that.

To Noise Making (Sing) - Hozier

“Honey, the look of it was as sweet as the sound; Your head tilt back, your funny mouth to the clouds”

This reminds me of the scene where she sings for him and he’s like WAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH im in love! I paraphrase, but you get the idea.

Golden Years - David Bowie

“Look at that sky, life's begun”

This is objectively the stupidest song on here. It’s here because I think it’s funny to imagine the iconic Natasha/Andrei dance just being the Golden Years dance from A Knight’s Tale, HOWEVER the quoted lyric is in fact Andreicore.

Stop The World I Wanna Get Off With You - The Arctic Monkeys

“And I know we got places to go, we got people to see/Think we both oughta put 'em on hold”

‘Wren there are several songs that are on this playlist AND your Andrei/Pierre playlist’ Thank you for noticing it’s because if Tolstoy can recycle the same lines of dialogue for these relationships I can recycle the same songs! This song is just. I Hate Everyone Except You :) which is deeply Andrei @ both of them. But also like wanting life to stop so you can just hang out with Your People.

Strawberry Blond - Mitski

“I love everybody because I love you”

I’m pretty sure someone once pointed out how this lyric fit Andrei/Natasha once in a post and I cannot for the life of me remember who but that made an impression on me. Mystery person, thanks <3 Also I forgot this was a Mitski song??

The Anchor - Bastille

“Bring me some hope by wandering into my mind”

One of Thee things about their relationship that sticks out to me is how Natasha is so lifelike and her very existence gives Andrei hope for the world. It’s so. It’s so much!

Something After All - Starry

“You’ve turned my world around”

Like I said above, falling in love with Natasha really changes Andrei’s entire worldview! I also think “I've spent years building up walls” is very Andrei, and Natasha kind of brought them down, like what happens in the song.

Cosmic Love - Florence + The Machine

“A falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eyes”

IT’S ABOUT THE SPACE METAPHORS FOR LOVE. THIS IS NO ONE ELSE FROM GREAT COMET’S FAULT.

Cold Cold Man - Saint Motel

“I know I am a cold cold man: quite slow to pay you compliments or public displayed affections”

It’s about being generally not very emotional or expressive but being devoted to the person anyway...very Andrei-ish.

Ophelia - The Lumineers

“I don't feel nothing at all and you can't feel nothing small”

The quoted lyric just seems like a really good summary of their dynamic, but I also think “Heaven help a fool who falls in love” works well for bitter post-elopement vibes, so this song was difficult to place.

Part 2: Andrei Leaving For Abroad

Misbehavin’ - Pentatonix

For some reason this is on both the Nat/Andrei and Natasha playlists and I’m too lazy to change it. Just go look at those annotations.

No One Else - Great Comet

Duh

To a Poet - First Aid Kit

“I got on a plane and flew far away from you, though unwillingly I left”

This song makes me think of Andrei abroad missing Natasha :( Honey you’ve got a big storm coming

Part 3: Post-Elopement Breakup Songs

I Hope Your Husband Dies - Amigo The Devil

“All the distance that we've spent apart will never have to mean a thing”

This song is VERY much Andrei about Anatole. “Now you're with this asshole, you expect me to believe it's going to last” really works because her relationship with Anatole was never going to last, whether or not she knew that. And “I'm not so much afraid of being alone, just kind of feel I've had enough/And time and time again, time reminds me you'll never be my own/We'll never have a house to decorate, a place that we can call our home” as an Andrei thing makes me very sad!!!

Ruins - First Aid Kit

“Ruins, all the things we built assured that they would last”

I think you can safely say their relationship was in ruins after the elopement attempt. I also think “I lost you, didn't I? First I think I lost myself” is something Natasha would think about the whole scenario

Half of My Heart - John Mayer

“Half of my heart's got the right mind to tell you that I can't keep loving you with half of my heart”

I think this is supposed to be more of an “I don’t love you anymore and that’s on me” song, but I like to mentally frame it in the context of Andrei after the elopement refusing to take back Natasha. I also think all the bits about the singer’s love interest changing the singer’s outlook on life before really fits, like “Lonely was the song I sang 'til the day you came, showing me another way”

Love Like Ghosts - Lord Huron

“You don't want me baby please don't lie/Oh but if you're leaving, I gotta know why”

It’s all about the singer being haunted by a love that doesn’t necessarily reciprocate on the same level, and I think that really fits Andrei’s mindset. It breaks my heart to think about him trying to figure out what he did wrong, why he wasn’t enough for Natasha, and so that quoted lyric really makes me just. :(

Cold Day In Heaven - Delta Rae

“Keep thinking bout when we started, so innocent/Your heart was a mess and I was lost in it”

This whole song is so good for them, it’s essentially just a couple being disappointed that their relationship didn’t work out well. The quoted lyric is so. AAAAHHH. because both of their hearts were messes but for different reasons, Andrei was so hopeless and bleak but Natasha was so naive and not ready for it and it’s so. It’s so Much. Also “We watched, the stars fell, and oh you know we let them/We said it’ll never happen, we said it’ll never happen to us/But it’s a cold day in heaven my love” gets me because 1) star/sky references :( and 2) Natasha especially did say it’d never happen to them, she was adamant that she’d love Andrei forever and that uh. I think we all know how well that worked out!

2 Months. - Zach Adkins

Someone You Loved - Lewis Capaldi

“I let my guard down and then you pulled the rug”

This is kind of a generic betrayal/breakup/I-miss-you song, but I think it works. Especially with “I kinda liked the way you numbed all the pain” and the focus on the singer’s lover getting them through difficult times and then abandoning them.

The Night We Met - Lord Huron

“Take me back to the night we met”

I think people are legally obligated to have this song on any playlist for a couple that doesn’t end well. It’s generic but it’s good! The entire Strange Trails album my BELOVED!

Careless Whisper - George Michael

“I should have known better than to cheat a friend and waste a chance that I'd been given, so I'm never gonna dance again the way I danced with you”

UNIRONICALLY THIS SONG. I think it’s the focus on dancing as like a significant marker of the relationship for me, especially given how heavily adaptations focus on their dance at that ball. The quoted lyric reminds me of Natasha’s mindset after all of this. Also “We could have been so good together, we could have lived this dance forever, but now, who's gonna dance with me? Please stay” reminds me of Natasha asking him to forgive her. Not to actually get sad over Careless Whisper but. :,(

With Or Without You - U2

“And you give yourself away”

The quoted lyric is in reference to the elopement in my head, and “I can’t live with or without you” is like. Andrei can’t continue on and let her back into his life, he admits that he can’t forgive her, but he also has no real will to live after she betrays him and goes off to die in war.

Atlantis - Seafret

“We've built this town on shaky ground”

“This town” is in reference to their relationship, and I like the acknowledgment that there was never a great foundation to begin with. And “maybe I’m not built for love” as an Andrei lyric is a little heartbreaking! Other than that it’s just a Breakup Song.

I Don’t Wanna See You Cryin’ Anymore - Adam Melchor

“I don't wanna be the reason you can't trust me like before/My head's in my hands as I'm shaking on the bathroom floor”

This reminds me of Natasha’s deep guilt over her betrayal of Andrei. The implication that Andrei would ever let anyone see him cry is a bit much for me, just ignore that HFJAHDHSH

Part 4: Reconciling While Andrei ✨Dies✨

Fake It - Bastille

“We can never go back, we can only do our best to recreate”

This whole is song is about trying to move forward from bad things in the past with your lover which is the whole vibe! But I also think it shows some reluctance on the part of the singer to forget, and a bit of a desperation to be able to leave the mistakes in the past. “Help me turn a blind eye” really captures that. I like this as the early stages of them reconnecting, because I think it’s realistic to have Andrei especially be wary but wanting it to get better.

Bad Blood - Bastille

“All this bad blood here, won’t you let it dry?”

Letting go of a grudge and trying to move on vibes!

Let It All Go - Birdy, Alvaro Soler

“We’re strong enough to let it go”

All their hurt surrounding the elopement is the Thing they’re letting go of in this case.

Flaws - Bastille

“You have always worn your flaws upon your sleeve and I have always buried them deep beneath the ground”

The quoted lyric just feels like their general dynamic to me. Natasha is so open about everything and does indeed wear her heart on her sleeve whereas Andrei represses every emotion he’s ever felt. I think this is a post-elopement song because of “Dig them up; let’s finish what we started”. That feels like them reexamining their relationship and what went wrong and trying again.

Moscow - Autoheart

“All I need’s a fraction of your happy heart”

This song is so 🥺. “We both know what we’ve got to do: head back to where the magic grew” reminds me of them accepting their reconnection and moving on and trying to rekindle whatever was between them. And “Let’s get a dog, an Irish red setter, it’s all we need to get better” feels emblematic of them looking forward to domestic happiness as the solution. And the quoted lyric screams Andrei about Natasha.

The Heart Is A Muscle - Gang of Youths

“I will look at love as more than just an instrument of pain”

Not to be off topic but this whole album is so good every single song makes me feel SHRIMP EMOTIONS god. Also the whole thing is very Andreicore and I had to stop myself from adding every song to his playlist. But I digress. This song is all about having been hurt by love in the past (“I let bad love betray me once”) but deciding to open your heart again which is very them! “I haven't had enough and I wanna love someone” AAAAHHHH. “I am human now and terrified, but want it all the same” Mr. GangOfYouths im going INSANE! “I just ask you to be patient if you’ll have me still” HELLO? Not to quote the whole song but “I wanna be loved, I wanna be whole again, so tuck my hair behind my ears and touch my soul again” as an Andrei/Natasha lyric...I need to sit down. Can you all tell this song makes me go all kinds of crazy. And this isn’t even my favorite song off the album!

Shrike - Hozier

“I couldn’t utter my love when it counted, ah but I’m flying like a bird to you now”

This song feels very “we tried to have a relationship a while ago and it didn’t work out that well but I still love you we could try again” to me which fits this time very well!

Part 5: Andrei Goes Splat :( [And The Aftermath]

Work Song - Hozier

“No grave can hold my body down, I’ll crawl home to her”

I can’t say what it is exactly, but something about persistent love framed around the death motif works for me here.

Dancing After Death - Matt Maeson

“As the sun waits to eclipse and the taste teases my lips, I'm too tired to wrestle with it”

The quoted lyric reminds me of Andrei giving up and shutting down when he realizes he’s gonna die :( oh ALSO my brain always mentally fills in “and no one else” after the “you and I” that ends the chorus which does NOT help with my depression!

One Last Time - Jaymes Young

“Could I feel your skin on mine before I have to say goodbye?”

SCREAMS SO LOUDLY. The whole song is like. Someone dying and wanting to see their person one last time and AAAAAAAAAAA. I am a little incoherent maybe. “I'm leavin' this cold world of mine, no pleadin' is gonna turn back time” really Gets Me in the context of Andrei accepting his own death and withdrawing and it’s so. Anyway.

Oblivion - Bastille

“When oblivion is calling out your name, you always take it further than I ever can”

I don’t think this is exactly what the song is talking about, but the quoted lyric in the context of Andrei dying and Natasha watching him fade and withdraw...good Lord. I need emotional support.

Haunt - Bastille

“I’ll come back to haunt you/Memories will taunt you”

Natasha being haunted by the memory of Andrei!!! Help me!!!! Also “I will try to love you/It’s not like I’m above you” as a callback to Andrei’s feelings for Natasha when they start to reconnect is so mental illness inducing. OOOH and “Questioning why as you look to the sky that is cloudless up above our heads and thoughts come to mind that our short little lives haven't left the path that they will tread” any lyric ever about looking at the sky is Andrei’s now.

Without You - for KING & COUNTRY

“What do you do when you don't get better/Strong arms get too, get too weak to hold her”

:( :( :( :( :( Also “I’m not ready to live without you” I am so sad.

Good Grief - Bastille

“Every minute and every hour I miss you, I miss you, I miss you more”

Pain! Agony, even!

I made myself SO sad writing the entire last half of these annotations geez

[loveisblindfanfictionbka]

Love Is Blind: Chapter Twenty-One

“So.. what do you think?” Robyn asked as she slowly turned in a circle. Leandra stood up and walked around her a bit before standing back with her hands on her hips, “I love it. We’ll get your hair done and you should be ready for tonight.”

“I don’t even know why I let you talk me into this. This isn’t our first date, you know.”

“No but it is your first date since you’ve been given a somewhat clean bill of health. You should get all dressed up. It’s been weeks, Robs.”

“I don’t even know where we’re going.”

“Does that really matter? You are going out with your husband, don’t worry so much.”

“Boyfriend. We are not married.”

“You could be if you’d stop playing.”

“You will not start with me too. I get enough of it from my mother and Melissa.”

“They aren’t totally wrong. I don’t see what the hold up is.”

“There isn’t a hold up. He hasn’t even proposed to me.”

“Would you say yes if he did?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

“How don’t you know?”

“Just what I say. I don’t know. I love him but that doesn’t necessarily mean I’m ready to go down the marriage road with him again either.”

“I mean neither of you really gave your marriage a fighting chance beyond that first year. This could really be a clean slate for the both of you.”

“We’ll never have a clean slate and I’m not saying that in a bad way but it’s just realistic. There’s no need to delude ourselves into believing our past will be forgotten. We’ve moved past it and gotten this far in spite of it but it still happened.”

“Then if you moved past it, why the concern?”

“Because I’m not ready to go there. It’s a really simple concept.”

Leandra scoffed, “whatever you say.”

Robyn went back into the dressing room to change back into her clothes. 

                                     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Daddy, why can’t we go with you and Mommy?” Anesa asked as Chris started packing her overnight bag.

“Well Sweetheart, this is a grown up date. We took you and Christian with us the other night for a family date,” Chris replied.

“Yea but I wanna go on this one too.”

Chris chuckled, “Baby Girl, sometimes Mommy and Daddy need alone time. It’s just one night, you’ll be back home tomorrow.”

“I guess.”

“You don’t have to look so sad, Love Bug. What’s going on with you? You’ve been wanting to be under us more than usual. Did something happen?”

“No.”

“I don’t think you’re being truthful with me, Anesa. Come here.”

Chris sat down on her bed and Anesa climbed into his lap, “talk to me.”

“I just want to make sure you and Mommy stay friends.”

“When were we not friends, Nesa?”

“A little while ago when y’all weren’t talking.”

“Sweetheart, we were still friends then too. Listen, in relationships, sometimes things happen and it takes some time to adjust. Mommy and I were in an adjustment period especially since we had just had your little brother and Mommy was still very sick and recovering. You gotta give time for things to become normal, that’s all.”

“I thought you didn’t love each other anymore.”

“Awww….I will always love your Mommy. You never have to worry about that.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. There’s nothing going on with me and your Mommy that should ever be cause for concern, ok?”

“Ok.”

“Good. So go get your Teddy bear and put it in your bag so you don’t forget like you did last time.”

“Yes Daddy.”

“I don’t know, Le. This seems like a bit much,” Robyn remarked as she twisted in front of her mirror and the screen of her laptop.

“I know he said something casual but that doesn’t mean it has to be basic.”

“But look at my legs.”

“Your legs look incredible as does your ass. Bitches pay for a body like that. Thick is it, Baby Girl.”

“Whatever.”

“You are being way too hard on yourself and for no reason. You look good and I am not just saying that because we’re friends. You’ve lived in sweatpants and leggings for the last few months, enjoy being womanly and enjoy those curves, you earned them. Postpartum done turned my fashionista into a damn bummy tomboy. No go.”

“I did not look  bummy.”

“Bitch, you definitely do. Perfect size 14 hidden under them baggy ass clothes and Chris’s hoodies. You looked homeless as hell.”

“Ugh….the disrespect.”

“It’s the truth. Go out with your man in that little ass skirt, do whatever then drop your pussy on his face for good measure. You deserve it.”

“Why are you so vulgar?”

“Why are you so scary?”

“I am not scared.”

“You definitely are. We have never had to talk you into a dress or getting your hair and nails done. That was always your thing so get back to it. Part of getting back to normal is getting back to loving yourself. I know you may look different but different isn’t necessarily bad, you know. You’re still standing, celebrate that.”

“Pregnancy always did make you all cerebral.”

“Girl shut up. All this baby is making me do is pee all the damn time.”

Robyn laughed, “I love you, Le.”

“Good but I need you to love you too, ok?”

“I’m working on it.”

“Good. Now go sit on your man’s face or something.”

“Bye Nasty.”

“You love me, Sis.”

Robyn ended the video call then took one more look at herself in the mirror. She really didn’t look bad at all. SHe grabbed her purse and left out into the living room. Chris was leaning against the back of the couch with his arms folded. The colors in her skirt gave their ensembles the only lift of color as Chris was dressed in black from head to toe. He looked good.

“Hey Babe,” she said softly.”

“Hey. You look amazing.”

“Thank you. So do you.”

“Thanks. You ready?”

“Yup. We can head out.”

“Next time tell Leandra to stop talking so loud.”

Robyn’s eyes widened, “Oh my god, you heard that.”

“I heard enough.”

“How much?”

Chris smirked as he pressed up behind her and leaned close to her ear to whisper, “I do plan on you sitting on my face at some point tonight.”

“Chris.”

“Uh uh, we’re not talking about it. We have a date to get to,” he moved to open the front door, “after you, Ms. Fenty.”

“Where in the world do you get these ideas of things to do?” Robyn asked as she lifted a smock over her head. Chris carefully tied it in the back of her before they followed their host to a gathering of tables. They were set up in sets of two, each table facing the other.

“Well this idea is actually something you mentioned years ago and when I was thinking of where to take you for our date that wasn’t super serious, pottery sounded good.”

“I mentioned this before?”

“Yea, back in college if memory serves me correct.”

“Do you always remember everything?”

“The good things, I try.”

“Hmm…:”

Chris helped Robyn sit down at the pottery wheel in front of him before he sat down at the one on the other side, “is this ok?”

“This is great. I’m surprised I don’t remember that conversation.”

“You really don’t?”

“No. I suppose there’s some things I’ve blocked out over the years, good and bad.”

“Wasn’t expecting that.”

“Why?”

“The bad stuff I get but our dating never seemed that forgettable.”

“I didn’t say it was forgettable, I said I blocked some things out. Big difference. We knew each other too well back then, hard to move forward focusing so much on the past especially with our past being so entwined with each other. Good memories are sometimes harder to deal with than bad ones.”

“Why do you say that?”

“The desire for them to reoccur always comes with them.”

Chris nodded his head in agreement, “now that I understand but that doesn’t seem like a bad thing.”

“If things ended good, of course not but we originally didn’t.”

“Very true. You really wanted to forget me.”

“Forgetting you meant I could rebuild my life. It just didn’t turn out that way.”

“And now?”

“Now is now. I’m happy. I have a great relationship and beautiful babies, I couldn’t ask for anything better.”

“Are you scared to want anything more?”

“Scared? No. Cautious? Absolutely.”

“Hmm…”

“I spent a lot of years assuming, I’m walking into this eyes open.”

“But you still don’t trust what you see.”

“I trust what I see and what I feel. I don’t trust my processing of it, just yet.”

“I can understand that.”

“Are you putting out feelers for something?”

“Nope, just having a conversation. So what do you want to make?”

“I think a bowl should be easy. You?”

“I’m thinking a vase.”

“Sounds a little complicated.”

“I think I can handle it.”

“So….did I offend you earlier?” Robyn asked as she took a bite of her steak. She returned her fork to her plate as she took a sip of water. Chris glanced up at her then shook his head, “No. Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know, just asking.”

“There was nothing to be offended about. We both had our own ways of making it past our divorce, that’s nothing abnormal.”

“Oh ok.”

“Tonight has had a weird line of questioning, are you putting feelers out for something?”

“No.”

“You sure? I know your family thinks I’m gonna propose to you soon.”

“They’ve been thinking that ever since they found out we were each other’s internet friend.”

“Ah. That doesn't concern you?”

“Why would it concern me? It’s not I’m just gonna fall in line with it just because it’s what they expect.”

“And what do you think I expect?”

“I have no idea and no desire to speculate. Do you want to propose to me?”

“I’ve told you before I wanted to marry you again.”

“Ok but do you want to put that into action?”

“Are you worried that every time I take you out there’s a possible proposal around the corner?”

“No but should I be?”

Chris laughed, “Robyn, when I’m ready to propose, there will be no question or wondering about it. I’m not gonna tell you beforehand but you’ll know what my intent is.”

“Ok.”

“That’s it? Just ok?”

“What else am I supposed to say? You know my stance on marriage, my concerns about some secret proposal have been clarified, there’s nothing else to say.”

“Does the idea of marriage scare you?”

“No but the idea of marriage has scarred me. I’m not ready mentally or emotionally for it so I don’t think about it unless somebody brings it up which tends to be every time I talk to Melissa or my mother.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for? You’re not the one bringing it up.”

“I know but I feel indirectly responsible.”

“Listen, you love me. I love you. We have family who unfortunately don’t know how to mind their business but we love them anyway. It comes with the territory.”

“It doesn’t have to. I can ask them to stop.”

“Not necessary.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very sure.”

They both fell silent and continued to eat their dinner. After the waiter carried away their empty plates, Chris took a sip of water and sat back in his seat. Robyn’s brow furrowed as she mimicked his movement, “what’s on your mind?”

“What makes you think something is?”

“I know your body language and you’re thinking about something.”

“Are you ever gonna officially move in with me?”

“I thought I did already.”

“You still have your apartment downtown though.”

“Chris, I moved my stuff out of there and into storage six weeks ago.”

“What?”

Robyn laughed, “That’s why I went down there for a weekend. I sold whatever furniture I could and put the rest of my stuff in storage. I thought you knew.”

“No, we never talked about it. I just remember asking if you had heard back on the buying price for your apartment, you said no and that was it. Where is it in storage at?”

“In Middletown. There’s a place about 20 minutes from the house.”

“We can get it out of there. You know I have a storage building on the property.”

“I know.”

“All this time I thought you were deciding on whether to leave or not.”

“If I was going to leave, it would’ve been months ago. I’ve been at your house since the beginning of my second trimester, Christian is going on six months old. That’s almost a year, Babe.”

Chris chuckled, “I really didn’t know how to approach you about it without seeming like I was being pushy.”

“You could’ve asked me. I didn’t want to assume that I could store my stuff at your house so I got my own thing, that’s all.”

“Well then I guess my next question won’t seem so weird then.”

“What?”

“You wanna redecorate?”

“Why? Do you want me to?”

“I want you to feel at home and there’s not much of anything that’s yours there except for you, your clothes, and our babies.” 

“Chris, have you ever heard me mention any of that?”

“No but I also didn’t know whether you wanted to stay or not either.”

“True. Honestly, we could just put some pictures up or whatever and that should be fine.”

“Are you sure? I want it to feel like it’s your house too.”

“It’s fine besides now that I’m back to work, we’ll only be there on the weekends right?”

“Yea but that doesn’t change my sentiments. We have to update the condo then too.”

“How about we take some family photos, blow them up and use it as art, make it feel more like our homes and not just yours?”

“Works for me.”

“I’ll have to check Melissa’s schedule and see when she can do it.”

“Ok.”

“Now I have a question for you.”

“What?”

“Did you really hear my entire conversation with Leandra?”

“Every bit of it.”

Robyn laughed, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because she can be a bit much.”

“It’s fine. I didn’t disagree with anything that she said.”

“But what if I do?”

“OK then what do you disagree with?”

“Sex being the center of our evening.”

“We’ve been out since 6 and it’s going on 9, has it been the center of our evening?”

“No.”

“Have I brought up sex at any point tonight since we left the house?”

“No.”

“So,what’s your point?”

“I was just saying.”

“Robyn, I know you. I don’t have to seduce you as cocky as that seems. I don't have to do anything to charm you out of your panties because if you want to give them to me, you will.”

“I’m not that easy.”

“No but you are that stubborn. You will push back just to do it even if it goes against what you really want to do. I cannot claim you unless you want me to. I cannot seduce you unless you want me to. And I also can’t get you to sit on my face unless you want to. There is absolutely nothing easy about you and as frustrating as it is, it is also the sexiest thing about you.”

“You lie.”

Chris chuckled, “why would I have to? You have made me work to have you since the day I met you. No amount of time will change that about you.I’ve always loved that about you.”

“You just called me stubborn, Christopher.”

“And at no point did I say it was a bad thing, did I?”

“I guess not.”

“So, my only plan was to ask you, Robyn, would you like to have sex with me?”

“Here we are once again,” Robyn said a light chuckle as she sat on the edge of the bed and kicked her shoes off her feet.

“You really didn’t have to rent a room, Christopher.”

“Special occasions deserve a special atmosphere.”

“For someone who claims to not be trying to seduce me, you sure are trying to seduce me.”

Chris chuckled as he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it over the armchair beside the dresser, “The flowers are because I love you. The candles are to make it smell good.”

“And the massage oil?”

“That’s to make sure you still feel good once we’re done.”

“So that’s not for before?”

“No, definitely for after.”

“Hmm...what exactly do you plan to do to me?”

“What do you want me to do to you?”

Chris began removing his pants as Robyn leaned back on her hands to watch, “are you going to get undressed?”

“You can do it once you’re finished with yourself.”

“No taking charge here?”

“I’ll take charge later.”

Chris smirked as he leaned against the door. Robyn sat up, “you’re staring at me, just like last time. What is it?”

“Nothing. Just looking.”

“You make me nervous when you do that.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“If I did, I wouldn’t ask.”

“Do you really wanna get all serious at this moment?”

“This moment was already serious. Any time I spend with you is important and serious. So what did you mean by I make you nervous?”

“This is the first time I’ve gotten dressed up in almost a year.”

“I know.”

“So...”

“Robyn, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you’re beautiful no matter what to me. I wish I could make you believe that.”

“I’m trying.”

“Good and today was a great first step. I’ve missed seeing those legs in heels.”

Robyn giggled, “what you trying to say?”

“That you’ve been dressing like you’re auditioning for Set It Off.”

Robyn’s mouth dropped open as she tossed a pillow at him, “Babe!”

“It’s true. You’ve been wearing boxers for months and since that is a one hell of a skirt, I can see that tonight you’re not. I’m impressed.”

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or insulted.”

“It is definitely a compliment. I know it wasn’t easy for you because you don’t quite feel comfortable yet so I do appreciate any effort you take to get back outside your box.”

“I didn’t even realize I was in a box.”

“You’ve been through a lot especially over the last six months, it’s gonna take some time to get you back in your high heels and short dresses but we’ll get there.”

“You sound so sure.”

“Because I am. If there is anyone that can pull themselves out of a rut, it’s you. You dealt with my moody, screwed up ass for three years, this is a piece of a cake.”

“Well that’s true.”

Chris pressed his hand to his chest in mock shock and Robyn laughed, “you said it, I was just agreeing.”

“I like that sound.”

“What sound?”

“You. Laughing. You sound happy.”

“I am happy. Tonight was great even though you still haven’t brought your half-naked self over here yet”

Chris chuckled, “I like committing this view to memory.”

He walked over to the bed and Robyn lifted her leg to press her foot into his chest, “what you doing?”

“You really have to ask? I kind of wish you kept your shoes on.”

“Why?”

“So I could take them off you myself.”

“Hmm...so how you feeling tonight?”

“I’m feeling like we both just go with the flow tonight,” Chris grabbed her foot and placed a kiss on her ankle, “what about you?”

“Whatever you want, I’m here for it.”

“Can I kiss my girlfriend?”

“Wherever and whenever you want.”

Chris grinned and leaned down to kiss her lips, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Baby.”

                                     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Aaah! Christopher, stop it,” Robyn screeched laughingly.

Chris grabbed her around her waist and pressed against her, “stop making all that noise. You gonna wait up the whole floor.”

“Then you get from behind me. You play too much.”

“Who said I was playing?”

“Chris, we have to get home to our children.”

“Our children are with their aunt. They will be fine, besides we have this room for a few more hours and I want to enjoy them.”

“Baby.”

“Look, we’re not even dressed yet.”

“Actually my shirt and skirt are on.”

“Minor technicalities.”

“Christopher.”

Chris leaned in and nipped at the skin of her neck. He murmured, “why you acting like this?”

“Because we’re never gonna make it out of here if you start again.”

“We will. I promise.”

He carefully opened the top buttons of her shirt to kiss her shoulder and collarbone, “I can’t walk out of here like this.”

Robyn moaned softly and bit down on her lip as he kissed along the swell of her breast, “Why are you so damn irresistible?”

“I’m good at this.”

Chris hiked up her skirt, sat her on the edge of the dresser then carefully slid into the wet crevice.

“Oh God,” Robyn gritted out, “You are too good at this.”

He rocked inside her slowly, to keep from moving the furniture against the wall. Robyn’s nails dug into his shoulder blades as she pressed her head against his. Chris gripped her thighs and gently pushed them apart as he sank deeper into her. He nibbled at the swell of her breast before moving his lips to her neck. He could feel her legs trembling and her walls tightening but he didn’t want her to cum just yet, not without him. He pulled out, leaving only the tip in and Robyn let out a sigh against his skin, “I was close.”

“I know. That’s why I pulled out.”

“We don’t have time for you to play.”

“We have time for anything we want to do. You know I never rush.”

He pushed back into her and she groaned out loud. Flexing her walls against his shaft, she attempted to hold him in but he slid back out then pushed back inside. Hard. 

“Christopher,” she murmured.

He kept kissing on her neck, nibbled at her earlobe and caressed her thighs as he gently pulled out then kept pushing back in. She could feel her orgasm just teetering on the edge. Her skin felt like it was burning up. She trailed her nails in the sweat glistening on his back. He finally picked up the pace but he pulled her away from the dresser and held her up in mid air. He continued to bounce her against his pelvis, her skirt bunched above her waist, her shirt hanging off her shoulders. Her hair sticking to her skin. She wrapped her arms around his neck to anchor herself. He dug his fingers into her thighs to hold her steady then whispered one word in her ear,

“Come.”

Chris stopped moving as he watched her orgasm wash over her face. It was never violent or exaggerated. She always came in a gentle manner. Her eyes closed. Her chest heaved for a few seconds then slowed. Her body went lax against him, her face pressed against his head. It was his favorite part of them coming together. He wished he could bottle that feeling somehow, so she could feel that way at will. As her body released against him, the peace in her movements, her face was all he ever wanted to remember. 

[ren1327]

Sweet Survivor Ch.9 Final

He moaned as he woke up, hearing a loud but steady beep to his left.

Why was his right side so warm?

He took another deep breath and heard a hum in his ear from the warmth under him.

“Kenji?”

His vision cleared and he found Ben pressed against his side in robe matching his, legs and feet bare.

Ben had bruises on his collar and a cut on his lip. But he was smiling at Kenji so brightly, Kenji swore he had never seen him look so beautiful.

Kenji was in a bed with him curled against his side, an arm around his neck.

If this was heaven, he would enjoy eternity in Ben’s arms.

“Did I die?” He asked him, leaning close to kiss him.

“You better had not!” A voice said from over them, startling them apart.

Kenji looked up to see a short plump woman with mocha skin, her curly black hair put up in two panda buns. Her soft cotton shirt that said “Property of Kon Incorporated” stretched over her baby bump. Her soft green eyes looked down at him in worry and he wanted to cry as her always warm hands stroked over his cheeks.

“Mijo, you scared me!” She crooned and took Kenji’s face in her hands and kissed his forehead. Ben moved back to give them space.

Kenji sniffed as she used her thumbs to brush away his tears before they fell.

“Candy?” Kenji asked. “Where am I?”

“You passed out from blood loss, Kenji.” She said, voice shaky. “Your father got you and your friends private rooms. Ben is technically supposed to be in that bed over there, but…”

She chuckled and hugged him. “Neither of us could leave your side.”

The Puerto-Rican smiled sweetly, eyes shining with unshed tears. “I want to tease you, but I’m just so happy you’re safe. Your father was a mess and little Carmen kept kicking as if to tell us her big brother was still…”

She sniffed loudly, looking up and fanning her face. “Dios mio…”

Ben smiled at Kenji, who finally looked around to see he was in a large private room, a bay window looking out over a busy city. He and Ben were in hospital robes, the lights turned low and a curtain most likely hiding the other bed and the door where he could hear people passing by.

“You’re in San Jose, Papa.” She said. “We’re staying at my old apartment.”

“We’re…We got away.” Kenji said.

“We did.” Ben said. “And Bumpy is okay from what I saw…”

Ben shook his head, schooling his anguished face into a shaky smile.

“Candy was telling me how she and your Dad met when he first came here to see Jurassic World.” Ben said. “And we just kept talking.”

“Yes.” Candy said, sitting on a plush armchair with a groan and stroking her belly. “Your Dad went to go pick up your friends families. Ben told me about Toro and Bumpy and the suck-os.”

“Suchos, Mom.” He said and Candy squeaked.

“Baby boy, you’re lucky I can’t get up right now or I’d smother you with love.” She said with a blinding smile, reaching out a hand and waving it like a fan.

Kenji took the hand she offered, noting her nails were bitten and chipped. He looked at her again, noticing how red her eyes were. How tired she looked.

“So,” She said. “I’m assuming I’m going to be getting use to my future partner hanging around?”

“What?” Kenji asked.

“Ben here has some amazing ideas for new products. A white tea mask with carob seed extract? I had no idea it could be a daily moisturizer!” She said. “That nice girl, Yazmina? She had packed a lot of things in hers and Sammy’s bags, including a book Ben said you gave to him and he has been going off about how different plants can be crushed, or oils extracted. I always get so bored when my scientists tell me this and that, but Ben really has a zest for this!”

She waved her free hand around excitedly. “I’m thinking a new daily skin care line! The launching off point of my new and improved company!”

Ben smiled up at Kenji. “She likes my ideas.”

“And I need to try that banana carob loaf.”

“Ben!” Kenji exclaimed with a blush.

“I’ve was working on that vest of yours, honey.” She said and held up his vest with thick black stiches holding the claw marks together like torn flesh. “I can get it repaired at home.”

Kenji laughed, imaging Candy struggling with the needle and her excited face when she would make the thread connect the two sides.

“Thanks Mom.” He said again.

“Oh, Baby boy.” She said as the door opened.

“Candela?” Mr. Kon called.

“Kosei!” She called. “They’re awake!”

A woman with a messy brown braid threw the curtain open.

“Ben!” She yelled and gathered Ben in her arms, picking him up like he weighed nothing, holding him like a toddler. She was petite and thin, but obviously had hidden strength.

“Whoa! Mom—" Ben said, holding on tight to her shoulders.

“Oh, my baby! I’m so sorry! I will never ever force you to do something you don’t want to ever again—”

“Sandra, he might be injured!” A broad blond man in a rumpled and stained button up said. The poor guy looked like he lived off coffee and pure anxiety.

“David!” She hissed, making him flinch back. “I thought my son was dead yesterday!”

“Ma’am?” Kenji asked.

Her big blue eyes snapped to Kenji. Her husband came up next to her.

“He has a bruised tailbone, so he should take it easy.”

“O-Oh…Was he in the same bed as you?” She asked, looking very confused as Ben hugged her back and swung his legs down to stand. His father pulled him into a hug too.

“Hey, Son.” He said, voice thick as he rubbed Ben’s back.

“Hey Dad.” Ben sniffed and turned to hug his mom again. “I missed you guys so much!”

Mr. Kon sat next to Kenji and stroked his hair.

“Mrs. Pincus?” He asked in his stern voice.

Ben’s mom looked at the man in the clearly expensive business suit. “Oh, yes, Mr.…?”

“Kon.” He said. “Kosei Kon.”

“Of Kon…” She swallowed. “Kon Incorporated?”

“Yes. I am very sad to hear of what happened to Simon.” He said, face falling as he bowed his head.

“Yes. He was a good man.” She said softly. “It’s going to be hard without him. And I know it will displace a lot of good people who loved him, loved working for him…”

“Do you have a resume handy?” Candy asked from her seat.

“Candy!” Mr. Kon scolded lightly.

Candy blinked at her husband and pouted. Kosei stared her down and her bottom lip wobbled a bit as she stroked her baby bump. The older man’s cheeks reddened at the sight of her big eyes practically begging for something unspoken between them, and he sighed.

Ben was impressed with how she was able to break down such a stern looking man.

“Mrs. Pincus. My wife would like to rebuild her own business after our daughter is born and I…we were wondering if you would be able to help by joining her employ.” He said. “I was planning on asking you after our children had rested enough, but now seems as good a time as any.”

“I’m sorry, but how do they…how do they know each other? From the camp?” Mr. Pincus asked.

“He’s my boyfriend, Dad.” Ben said, making Kenji’s head snap in his direction.

“Kosei Kon’s son is your...” Mrs. Pincus said.

She sat on the bed.

“Yeah. We kinda confessed after I survived falling from a monorail when Pteranodons attacked us. After almost dying, like, more than once,” Ben said with a tilt of his head. “We thought it best to just be honest about our feelings.”

Mr. Pincus sat down next to his wife.

“Oh.” They both said at the same time.

 *

 “You’ll come visit, right?” Sammy asked as Yaz’s Dad loaded her backpack in the backseat of their cab and her Mom hugged both of Sammy’s Dads.

“Well duh.” Yaz said, taking her girlfriend’s hands. “Gotta come see my sponsor’s new investment!”

Sammy smiled and kissed her cheek, hugging for the umpteenth time.

Darius waved as his mom hugged him close.

“Don’t forget to message me!” Brooklynn called.

“Every day!” He promised her, sliding in his own cab behind his brother.

Roxy gave Brooklynn a big hug as her mom and aunt thanked Dave and Claire over and over, her aunt still crying happy tears.

Kenji held Ben’s hands as their parents waited for them in separate cabs.

Kenji rubbed his thumb over Ben’s bruised knuckles.

“It’ll only be a few months, right?” Kenji asked.

“Well, we need time to pack, pick a house and settle.” Ben said softly. “Besides…still…a little fast for me.”

“Scared of the B word?” Kenji joked.

“Scared of the expectations that come with being a boyfriend. Not to mention all the new things.” He said. “I mean, realistically…we might not even last.”

“Don’t worry.” Kenji said. “When you move to California…I’ll drive over whenever you want to see me and give you space when you don’t.”

Ben blushed and gave him a blank look.

“Who are you and what have you done with Kenji Kon?” Ben asked, making a face.

Kenji kissed the wrinkle over his nose. “I’m still Kenji. Being the best at everything. Including boyfriend.”

Ben leaned up and kissed his jaw. “You already are. No expectations needed.”

“Back at you.” Kenji said, kissing him softly. “Besides. I think my Mom and Dad love you too much for me to mess this up.”

Ben chuckled and smiled softly up at him. “See you later?”

Kenji put on his rose-gold aviators.

“You betcha, Sweet thing!”

Ben wrinkled his nose, but couldn’t hide his smile as they parted.

  THREE YEARS LATER…

 The shrill beeping of his phone went off.

Kenji took a deep breath and tried to sit up, but two arms refused to let him budge.

“Seriously, what’s with this grip?” Kenji whispered, trying to peel off his boyfriend’s fingers.

“No…” Ben whined, adjusting to hug him around the waist, the thin sheet covering their bodies falling to expose more of Ben’s skin.

“Baby, I gotta get my phone.” He said and Ben whined again, hugging a pillow.

He sat up and reached over to get his cell, seeing Brooklynn and Darius’s picture on it. He swiped it and sighed, seeing it was four am.

“What is it, Dino-Nerd?” He asked. “Ben has class tomorrow and I got a meeting I gotta shadow with my Dad—”

“Is Ben there?” Darius asked.

“My boyfriend of three years who lives with me? That Ben?”

“Kenji!”

“Yes! Ben is here!” He groaned and Ben sat up, pulling the sheet up to his chin. “Aren’t you supposed to be at Claire’s office or—”

“Put me on speaker.” Darius said.

Kenji tapped the button and sighed. “Done.”

“Ben?”

“Yeah?” He asked sleepily. “Did the relocation go okay?”

“Bumpy was moved.” Darius said, sounding out of breath.

“Yeah, you told me Zia said they were gonna be relocated to—”

“She wasn’t relocated to the island!” Brooklynn’s voice said suddenly. “We came to check up and—oh my god, they’re getting away!”

“What?!” Ben yelled, and Kenji hugged him close.

“I can see Claire and Owen!” Darius said in the background.

“Guys? Wait, then where is she?” He asked.

“She’s on the mainland!” Brooklynn said. “She was taken to Lockwood Manor and—Darius, duck!”

They heard a squeal. “We’re okay.”

“Lockwood Manor?” Kenji asked.

“She’s not the only one!” Darius said. “There’s so many! Wait is that…Toro?!”

“Get in the car, get in the car!” Barry yelled over the phone. “We’ll recon around the property and pick them up.”

They heard a far-off roar and the sound of an engine.

“Guys!” Ben yelled.

“We’re okay! But you need to spread the word! Get your families up north as soon as possible! We’re going to stay and help Claire and Owen!” Darius said. “There’ so many and I know Owen and Claire are going to need help. We hate to ask you…”

Kenji looked at Ben. His boyfriend nodded; determination set on his face.

“We’re in.”

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #423

“i won’t think about you when i’m older  /  ‘cuz we never really had our closure”

Are you better at cooking dinners or making cakes/biscuits/sweets? Neither. Have you ever cut someone else’s hair? No. Who was the last guest in your house and what were they staying for? My late grandmother's husband stayed overnight when he was driving from New York to Florida or the other way around, idr. How many long term relationships have you been in? Two. Do you sleep with all the lights out, or do you leave a lamp or even the television on? My snake's heat lamp stays on. Who is one person you have forgiven, but still have not “forgotten” what they have done? My dad. Are you a fan of Lana Del Rey? I don't think I've even heard one of her songs. Do you know your blood type? A-. Do you know your mother’s birthday? Yes. Have you got your period at the moment? I haven't had my period since I started TMS. It's honestly so fucking frustrating that it obviously had an effect on my body, but not my depression. I've officially finished TMS as of a few days ago and now I just feel so void of hope. Have you ever been pregnant? No. How old were you when you first went on a plane? Idr, I was a little kid. Have you ever had to take out a loan for anything? Not me personally, but my parents have for my education that I threw away. Are both of your blood parents still in your life? Yes. I don't see my dad a lot, but he's still in my life regardless. When was the last time you went apple picking? I’ve never been. Someone asked you what you wanted, what would you say? Happiness. Have you ever been drunk at school or work? I have not. How many bedrooms are in your house? Three. Are you smart about computers? Not really, no. Have you ever played Just Dance for Wii? Yes. My sister loved them, so we have a few. Do you own a Xbox 360? No. I'm a PlayStation girl. Would you ever do a sex tape for a million dollars? No. I'd be mortified. So, do you need a nap? I really should take one. I slept like... maybe three hours last night. I was up most of the night having a fucking life crisis. What would you rather be doing? Something fun. What sport are you the best at? I haven't touched any sort of sport since I was a teenager. Do you have a little sister? What’s her name? Yeah, Nicole. Do you complain a lot? Kind of, but I generally try to keep it in surveys nowadays. I'm just tired of shit. Would you rather go to an authentic haunted house or an ancient temple? Ohhh, tough pick, but I've gotta say the ancient temple. Do you like fruity or minty gum? Both, really. Are you looking forward to any day of this month? Well July is practically over, so I'll answer for August. I'm looking forward to my nephew's birthday. Have you ever gotten detention? A few times for getting too many morning tardies in high school. Is there a traumatic event that you’ve experienced that’s changed your life? Definitely. Do you buy a majority of your clothes from a certain store, or do you just pick out items of clothing you could see yourself wearing, not caring about the store it came from? The latter. Have any of the artists you’re fond of released new albums recently? Powerwolf did recently. Would you ever keep your favorite animal as a pet? I could write a college-length essay on why meerkats do not make good pets whatsoever. Do fucking not get one. I can barely fathom how it's legal in some countries. Ever cried so much you threw up? No, but I've gagged. Who is your best guy friend? Girt. What do you two do when you hang out? Mostly just watch TV and play board games. What is a movie that you thought you would hate but you ended up loving? I dunno, really. Do you even like horror movies? I love horror movies. Do you live in the country? I wish I still did. :/ Me and Mom hate hate hate living in these suburbs. What is your favorite accent? British. Have you ever had a boyfriend your parents didn’t like? No. Do you drink Pepsi or Coke? Coke. Pepsi is gross. What do you plan to do on your 21st birthday? I was literally in the psych hospital for my 21st birthday lmao. It's kind of a painful memory, but I also won't forget the love and kindness people showed me. I especially remember the friend I made there getting the lunch lady to literally go and buy me a slice of cake. Everyone also sang happy birthday to me and gaaaah I'm getting emotional. Do you have any person in your family with an addiction to beer? That was my dad's drink of choice when he drank. Do you take a lot of pictures? Unless I have my camera and am somewhere pretty, no. What kind of face wash do you use? Water, lol. Does drama always seem to follow you? Nah. Does anybody in your family race? No. Are you closer to your mom or dad? My mom. How much money did you used to get from the ”tooth fairy?” Uhhh... I want to say $2 or something? I might be way off, idr. How long do you want to live with your parents? I WISH I could have moved out with an s/o already, but that's just not how life's worked out. Do you have a laptop or desktop? I have a laptop. Do you like your parents? I love them. Do you secretly like someone? It's not a secret, no. Would you ever date your best male friend? Tried that once and it didn't work out. I liked him more as like a brother. What are you currently listening to? "Better Than Me" by Hinder. I really need to turn it off, but I can't make myself. Do you want to be single? I really wish I had a partner to love and motivate me to strive to do better, but I know it's better I'm single right now. I'd just relive the Jason situation, I'm sure. I'd just drag the person down and lose them. Did you go out or stay in last night? I'm almost always at my fucking house not doing shit, so. Have you pretended to like someone? No, that sounds pretty stupid... How is your heart lately? Hurting. A lot. Are you wearing socks? I hate wearing socks and I'm in bed anyway, so no. What do people call you? Britt, mostly. Do you get stressed out easily? VERY. Have you ever been taken to the emergency room in an ambulance? No. What is wrong with you right now? Where the hell to begin. Do you own something from Hot Topic? A lot. Would you rather sleep with someone else or alone? With someone, so long as the bed is big enough to comfortably fit two of us. Do you still talk to the person you last made out with? No. I'm certain he wants nothing to do with me. Have you ever seen your best friend cry? Sadly. Did you get any compliments today? Definitely not. I look and feel like a wreck right about now. There's nothing to praise me about. Have you ever gone to a beach? Many times. What would you say if someone asked you to get high right now? Unless it was an edible, no. I'd do almost anything to try and make me feel better right now, even if just for a little while, but I'm unwilling to smoke anything. Do you believe that everything happens for a reason? HELL no. Have you ever done volunteer work just because you wanted to? Honestly, no. Do you have long nails? No; I never do because I have an awful habit of picking at them. Do you like the gender you are? I don't like or dislike it, honestly. I'm just neutral. Do you generally look nice in photos? HA. Have you ever had a stick insect as a pet? No. What colour are your father’s eyes? They're dark brown. If I handed you a concert ticket right now, who would you want to be the performer? Ozzy, duh. Name three facts about your family? We're very, very spread out geographically, some of us (in other words, me) are emotionally distant, and uh... idk. Would you ever get into a long distance relationship? Only if it was a certain person, our lives were more on track, and we were making plans for either of us to move soon. What’s the most thoughtful present you’ve ever received? Probably this really long letter my mom wrote for me on my bday a couple years ago. What’s your favorite hot beverage? Hot chocolate. Did you ever play an instrument? If so what? I played the flute for many years, all through middle school and through much of high school. Would you rather carve pumpkins or wrap presents? Carve pumpkins, for sure. Do you think you’re important? I don't fucking know. Probably not. What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received? Idk. Have you been diagnosed with any mental disorders? *hands over thick book* Have you ever moved to another state or country? If so, how did it feel to be new? No. Do you know how to properly eat food with chopsticks? No. My hands are way, way too shaky to ever accomplish that. Are you more of a leader or a follower? Definitely a follower, but I can step up in certain situations. What was the first thing you ate today? Well, I was seriously depression-eating last night, way past midnight, and had a peanut butter sandwich. If you could spend the day, doing absolutely anything, with anyone, anywhere, what would it be like? LET'S NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT RIGHT NOW. If I were to ask you how you are doing, and you were only able to answer completely honestly, what would come out? "Falling apart." I've lost direction, motivation, strength, hope, just everything. What is the one thing that you have been avoiding that you should do? I need a fucking shower so bad that it's embarrassing. I just can't move. I have no energy, emotionally or physically. I just can't make myself do it. Is there anything that you wish you could take back? So, so badly. What, in your mind, could make you truly happy? Actually reaching goals. Losing weight. Healing my legs. Knowing with certainty that I wasn't emotionally abusive to Jason. Moving out of this town and back into the country. Financial stability. A job I thoroughly enjoy. I could go on, but let's not. If you could change one conversation in your life, what would you say differently? Would it have REALLY made any difference? God, let me take back shit I said in that fucking letter to you-know-who. It's so hard to believe I once thought it perfectly justified and realistic. When is the next time you’ll change your hairstyle? Will you color it? I don't have any plans of changing the style in the foreseeable future. I want to color it BADLY. To just SOMETHING. Do people normally say you’re a fast typist, or are you rather slow? I'm like, a lightning-fast typist. Have you ever been considered the ‘smartest person in school?’ No; my best friend in HS was, though. Her GPA was fucking insane. I was in the top percentile, though, so I was up there. What the hell happened to that girl. How many drugs are in your system? If we're including prescriptions, a whole hell of a lot. What’s on your schedule for tomorrow? Jack shit. Like usual. Do you currently have any bite marks/hickeys on your body? No. Do you call anyone baby? Excluding my pets, no. What’s your current mood? lol if you've gotten this far reading, you can make an educated guess. Do you think you are a good person? Bro I just don't know. What were you doing before filling out this survey? I was playing WoW. How late did you stay up last night? Like, 4:30 or so. When was the last time you cried really hard? I wanna say like a week ago? Is your hair longer than your shoulders? No. It still badly needs a trim, though.

[blissfulalchemist]

“You look really pale. Sit down. I don’t need you fainting before I get this stitched-up.” + dealer's choice, please? 😊

Thank you! Please enjoy some Lance during A Chance for Faith 

Got a little long sorry. But for a little background please look at these two pieces X X

The empty house never felt like his, how could it when it was “loaned” to him. It didn’t feel right to make this place feel like his when the pictures of the previous owner’s life were still hung on the wall when he was assigned to it. Lance had looked over the pictures trying to figure out if they were alive or dead, all the faces in recent months blurring together, each battle feeling as empty as the last. So far one herald was taken down and because of that the fighting was just going to get worse. The residents, people once his friends, had John in their sights which meant that Lance was now in their sights too. He needed out, there was a plan to get out, one that involved John helping him, only if Jacob was taken down first. That plan was looking more distant with each minute passing, plans were changing and Chance was getting angrier with John, just wanted him out of the way. Lance needed to talk to Eli, get him to let Wheaty out and on missions Chance could help out with, all the while he could rework everything. 

Lance tossed the leather duster on the kitchen table along with the shotgun, stripping himself free of the attire marking him as the enemy, back into clothes he missed. Lance ran his hands over the soft fabric of the plain v neck shirt, a small comfort, something he missed for months after Cat was gone. She never cared about him wearing what made him comfortable, the regular clothes made her feel safer too she would tell him. Not safe enough. He sighed shaking his head going to the fridge pulling out whatever leftovers he had, the tupperware tossed into the microwave. Out, that’s all he needed, just like Cat, out so he could go home to Sage. Beg for forgiveness, tell her he was wrong to have not listened to her sooner, he should have sucked up his pride and lived with her when he had the chance. All of it so he could have maybe died with the pride of a father rather than the bitter pride of a failed and fallen hero. 

He never even put up a fight, all that talk and he didn’t do a damn thing other than roll over for them. Only for history to repeat itself when Eli gave him the opportunity to leave with him, form the militia, taken on this whole group sooner….or ended up dead sooner. Going home, that’s the end game. Going home and putting this whole thing behind him. 

Lance pulled out his wallet, carried only by habit, flipping to the picture of him as a young man, the red brown hair of his daughter with the soft brown of her eyes, smiling as she sat on the rocks of Ariel’s grotto, his arms wrapped around her so she wouldn’t fall. He worried about losing her that whole trip to California, wouldn’t let her out of his sight as she ran from princess to princess to ride to show, eyes big and full of wonder. That same wonder as the next picture his eyes moved too as she stood in a cap and gown, her certificate bearing the symbol he wore on his shoulder, the day she finished her doctorate. He didn’t need to see his face to remember the pride he felt that day, the one he should have been feeling if he left Montana all those years ago. The closest he got was when little Catlina, her nerves frayed and scared, requested him to walk her down the aisle of that church. That’s all it took and he finally got a glimpse of all that he lost in thinking he was protecting his heart. How stupid of a man he was….

The steady beeps of the microwave brought his thoughts back, the food lukewarm in the center as he sat at the table. The silence almost welcomed if it weren’t for the whispered thoughts and worry. He stood cleaning up the mess, hands careful as to not disturb the unmoved knick knacks, all hopeful for their owner’s return. He’d just finished drying the dish as the back door kicked open, instinct reaching for his handgun, aimed at the intruder. Well intruders, Faith, in the second hand leather jacket, pulling along the curly haired deputy, huffing and hunched over as she met Lance’s eyes. Chance groaned, clutching his side, eyelids drooping as he struggled to keep his footing. 

Lance holstered the gun, quickly pulling Chance’s weight off Faith, “Alright kid come on,” Lance moved him to the couch, tossing an old towel over it, “Let’s sit you down, don’t want you fainting just yet, not before I stitch you up.” He laid the young man down pulling up his shirt, Chance fighting him weakly, “Don’t fight. I’m helping you, not hurting you.” 

“Might be the Bliss still,” Faith said, handing over the medical kit, “I found him bleeding out in the middle of a field of them.”

Lance nodded, looking her over, still as clean as when she left earlier in the day, “Guessing you didn’t see what happened,” she shook her head, pushing back the falling strands of hair from her ponytail. Lance gave a quick nod, “You found him at least, that's what matters,” Lance jutted his chin towards the kitchen, “Mind getting a bowl of warm water and a few rags?” Faith nodded, disappearing, Lance turning back to Chance, “Alight now I need to see the damage you did, gotta know what needs to be done.”

Chance’s eyes stayed shut, pushing Lance’s hands away, “No. Don’t need your help.”

Lance let out a sigh, eyes rolling, Kids these days, “Don’t need you fighting either, but here we are.”

“That doesn’t even make sense, Baptist’s lackey,” his eyes opened just enough to shoot daggers, going wide quickly as he sat up gasping, “Where is she? Where’s Faith?”

Lance put a hand on Chance’s shoulder, pushing him to lie back, “She’s just in the kitchen, didn’t go anywhere.”

Lance watched as his green eyes, glassed over, jumped from place to place, “No she’s not here. She’s gone. She’s left.” His hands gripped onto Lance’s shirt, pulling him closer as Lance maintained steady eye contact, “I want to go back. She was there. She was real. She wasn’t gone,” Lance didn’t flinch as Chance’s face became a breath away from his, “Send me back, peggie.”

“Chance,” Faith warned, walking through the doorway, bowl full in her arms, “that’s no way to treat Lance.” 

Lance grabbed the deputy’s hands gently, “He stole you from me though,” Chance’s hands ended up back at his sides, lying on his back again, Lance going back to work on identifying the wound, “He stole you away after-.” The room hushed, Chance swallowed, eyes closing tightly, “After I-,” he took a deep breath, voice breaking, “After I shot you dead.”

Lance and Faith locked eyes for a moment, before she kneeled running her fingers through his hair, “You didn’t Chance. I’m right here with you. I brought you to Lance. He’s going to help you get better so I can explain everything.” The wound wasn’t as deep as Lance thought it was going to be, but stitches would be needed for the fastest route of healing. Lance saw Faith gently kiss Chance’s forehead, as he prepped the needle, “Do you need some help?” 

Her hands moved to hold the wound closed before Lance could say anything, “Chance this is gonna hurt, but can’t afford to drug you up more than you already are.” The young deputy mumbled incoherently, the needle piercing his skin. He hissed in pain, Lance’s hand holding him down, “Just breathe okay? You don’t need many, so keep calm and you’ll be done quicker.” Lance’s hands were steady as he got the first two stitches done, catching the color of Faith’s face, the same look as that night after the bunker collapsed, “You look really pale.”

“You think I’d be used to seeing stuff like this,” she said the look in her eyes getting farther away.

“Medical gore can feel different from what we’ve been seeing in recent weeks,” Lance assured, Chance starting to shift, his breathing even, “I got it from here. Just keep him calm and in place. Don’t think he fully understands that you’re more than just some realistic hallucination.” She nodded, cleaning her hands of the blood, kneeling next to his head, hands grabbing his whispering in his ear words of comfort. 

“Lance,” he glanced to Faith, hands never leaving his work as he made sure there wasn’t anything else that needed attending, “What if he’s not able to shake off the Bliss?”

So far a clean bill of health for the kid, “Like he becomes an angel?” She nodded, lip trembling, “You said you found him a field of the flowers, so that seems unlikely.”

She looked down to Chance’s face, pushing his hair back from his eyes, “A field of the more potent ones. What I used to make the powder form for the Marshall….,” her words trailed off.

Lance pulled out the small flashlight from the kit, pulling one of Chance’s eyelids open, moving back and forth. Lance looked closely watching for the movement of his pupil, as it grew smaller and then bigger, “It's a little slow right now but he’s gonna be fine. We’re not getting the Romeo and Juliet ending anytime soon.”

She let out a breath, “Thank you Lance.”

“Don’t thank me,” he said, standing to clean the area, “Thank his sheer dumb luck.”

“I worry that he’s going to run out soon,” she followed, “He’s getting too reckless.”

“He was grieving, on top of that he’s angry and annoyed with John.”

“What does that mean for you?” Lance paused, Faith placing a hand on his shoulder, “I know you planned on getting out once Jacob was taken down, but, well,” she glanced over her shoulder to Chance, “what if he’s determined to go for John next?”

“I’ll figure it out,” Lance gave a quick shrug of his shoulders, “No need to worry about me.”

“Mary would have,” the two looked up at the sound of Chance’s mumbling and stirring.

“She worried about everyone,” he set the last of the stuff down to dry on a towel laid out on the counter, “Treated it like her job.” Lance walked over gently picking up the young deputy, “Let’s get him lying down in the bed.” He listened to Chance mumble in his sleep about Faith and Rachel, his mind working to untangle the two, Good luck on that one, Chance. Once he got him settled, Lance pointed to Faith, “Stay with him. Make sure he doesn’t start moving too much in his sleep, don’t need those stitches coming undone.”

She nodded, removing her jacket and shoes before curling up next to him on the bed, his hand finding hers to hold onto, the mumbling slowing down as Faith held him close. She started to whisper, placing kisses in his hair, Lance nodding to himself, They have each other, they’ll be okay. Lance shut the door, pulling out the maps and paperwork he had on the operations of Eden’s Gate, spreading it across the table. The original plan was solid, John was supposed to go last so Lance could better keep the kid out of the trials, help get his buddy Pratt out of that center. Easier to help Eli and the militia if Lance could stay in the Project fold as long as he could afford. Other than Chance’s own emotions getting in the way, it would be the smarter option to get John off the board next. He provided the air support and ran the supplies through the county, including weapons and ammo. 

Jacob wasn’t stupid though and was preparing for them to go to his brother next. He’d have a better army, and stock pile of everything he needed to step on all their necks. Not to mention anyone left alive in his cages and bunkers would be killed, all innocent. He needed to spend more time up there with Jacob, get more information on what was happening, the ins and outs that changed frequently since the reaping began. Lance had become John’s primary security and if he was being honest with himself, scared to go back to that center. 

It took him months to be able to get himself back to a rational mind while that song played, longer to make sure he would no longer black out in a rage, but anytime he spent more than a few days there the song started to creep it’s way back into his mind, the conditioning taking hold. It was a fight every time to get himself back to some semblance of normal, even though the nightmares never stopped. Every night, drenched in a cold sweat as the fading notes played in his ears and the face of the young recruit driving a steam roller over the bodies of his friends and their families along with the innocents Lance had to cover up all those years ago. Jacob had to be taken down next, there was no avoiding it. 

It had been a few hours before Lance finally looked up from the paperwork, rubbing his eyes. He made a grab for the bottle of Tylenol and a beer from the fridge, the pills washing away with the comforting taste of hops. He finished the bottle quickly, hiding the rest under his bed, just in case. Lance paused at the door hearing the faint sound of singing, stepping closer he put his ear closer to the door, Faith’s voice coming through. Lance cracked the door open seeing the deputy curled into Faith, arms wrapped around her waist as she stroked his hair, lips softly singing what sounded like a lullaby. 

Her eyes caught Lance’s as she finished the song, “I’m just going to be outside the door,” she whispered in his ear, “I’m not going anywhere.” She placed a kiss in his hair, sliding out from his grip, shutting the door quietly behind her. 

“How’s he doing?” Lance asked, following Faith to the kitchen, watching as she searched the cupboards.

“He had a hard time sleeping,” she frowned, “only did when I started to hum and sing.”

Lance gave a soft snort, “You’ve been singing for hours then?”

She shook her head, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips, “No, just when he’d start to stir.” 

Lance pulled down some boxes of mac and cheese from one of the cupboards, “I’ll make you something.”

“You planning on making it Mary style?” Faith gave a brief smile leaning against the fridge, eyes turning to the floor as she crossed her arms, “I don’t see why John had to lie to us still.”

Lance nodded, “His way of protecting himself. Less people knew-.”

“The better it was to keep her safe,” she nodded, “That’s what he said but she was fine here. She was safe. No one was going to hurt her.”

Cat was just going to hurt others, “At the time she was,” She became too dangerous, “but don’t you think it’s better that she didn’t stay now this has all come to pass?”

She grumbled, shrugging, “Chance said the arrest was for suspicion of kidnapping,” Lance stiffened at her words, “Did we really steal her away from her home?” He didn’t say anything as he stirred, Faith’s eyes starting to widen, “Lance,” her tone lowering, “you know something, don’t you?”

Lance closed his eyes letting out a slow breath, “What do you remember Mary telling you about herself?”

“I-. Well-.” Faith stopped furrowing her brow, “She told me once that she had sisters, she was a humanities major,” she gave a small laugh at that, face growing serious once more, “Thinking back it seemed she always did talk as if she was going to go back somewhere.” Faith’s eyes misted as she looked up to Lance, “We did take her from a home. A family.”

Lance nodded, “Nothing we could have done at the time, she was too scared of what would happen,” he looked to Faith, “There was a point she was wanting to stay though. Wanted to live a life here.”

“It was still wrong,” she swallowed, “I see that now. That’s why John let her go, do you think?”

“Yeah,” he lied, “It is.” Lance scooted Faith away from the door of the fridge gathering butter, milk, and grated cheese to mix in with the noodles. “You want true Mary style?”

Faith wiped at her face, shaking her head, “No I think we should take it easy on Chance’s stomach.”

“Don’t think there’s much need for that,” Chance suppressed a yawn as he rounded the corner, “I’m gonna be leaving soon.”

“You should eat first,” Lance countered, watching as Chance grabbed onto Faith’s hand. 

“You could poison me.”

“Chance,” Faith turned, “Lance would never do that!”

Chance’s green eyes focused on Faith, “Look I don’t even remember how I got here. He was nice a few times but that doesn’t mean he’s trustworthy.” He looked back to Lance, “Sorry to intrude on you, but I’ll take my leave. Thank you for the stitches.” 

Chance made his way to the front door, stopping once he opened the door, frowning eyebrows knitting together. He looked over his shoulder at Lance and Faith standing in the kitchen still, “I’m not staying. I need to go home,” his words pointed right at Faith.

Faith and Lance glanced at each other, before looking back to Chance, “Chance, do you think I can’t see Faith, still?” Lance asked, taking a step towards her, the deputy’s green eyes going wider, “Cause I can see her just fine.” Chance turned slowly, eyes fixed on Lance’s movements, “I can feel that she’s a real person,” Chance moved quickly as Lance put a hand on Faith’s shoulder, stopping in his tracks once contact was made. “You know why I can do this, kid? Cause she’s alive. She’s alive and well.”

Faith patted Lance’s arm, “It’s a lot to take in I know, but I didn’t expect to find you bleeding out in the middle of one of a Bliss field.” Chance didn’t move as his eyes looked between the two of them, “Lance I think you need to have him sit down again.”

He gave a curt nod, “Probably right ‘bout that.” Lance gently led Chance to sit at the table, Faith moving the papers to the side, “Let me get you some water, while you process.”

Chance looked to Faith, “So you really aren’t dead? I didn’t shoot you?”

She shook her head, “No I’m alive and well.”

“She is now,” Lance interjected, “I have to be honest with you, kid, you did shoot her.” Faith gave Lance a pointed look, he rubbed the back of his neck handing the water over, “You shot her but she had a vest on with blood packets in it.”

“She stopped breathing though,” Chance watched as she sat next to him, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, “I saw you grow pale and cold. Your pulse stopped.”

She blushed, her fingers tracing the tattoos on the top of his hands, “We used the poison from the play, Romeo and Juliet, or something similar. It was John’s idea.” 

“Or something similar,” Lance grabbed a bowl from a cabinet, “Faith altered it a little bit.”

“Why not tell me about the plan then?” Chance asked, his eyes the only part of him revealing the hurt he felt.

“Because,” she looked to the table avoiding his gaze, “there was a chance that it would actually kill me.”

“Didn’t want to get your hopes up,” Lance said softly, placing a filled bowl of dinner before the young man.

“I’m so sorry, Chance,” the first tears falling from her eyes, “I wanted to tell you I really did, but I-.”

Chance nodded, placing a hand over hers, “I understand,” he shot a glare at Lance, “I don’t like that it had to happen this way,” Faith looked up, his eyes softer for her, “but I get it. Roles reversed, I’d have done the same thing.”

Watching Chance now Lance had a hard time believing that it was the same deputy from the church that took too many risks, let his anger get the better of him, and had no idea where to even begin. There was still a reckless streak with him, but it was met with thought, care, and control. The plans made were more methodical and had a bigger goal than just taking down Joseph, Chance, the one sitting in front of him, was maturing into what was needed for the county. It was no secret though that Chance had taken a downward turn and the interactions Lance had with him showed a face that he saw in the young men coming back from the deserts of the Middle East, and that worried him more. This was never the life a twenty five year old should have been living, so when all this was said and done Lance couldn’t help but wonder what was going to be left for Chance. Jacob was planning something big, something that Lance feared would be too much for Chance to cope with.

“So tell me,” Chance started, “I know you’ve helped in the past before, but why bring me to Lance, Faith? Could have gone closer to where you found me.”

“Lance was never really a part of Eden’s Gate,” her shoulders sagged, “He was, well is, someone that we forced to join.”

Chance looked at Lance, eyes level, “She’s right. I’m on your side,” Lance justified, “Doesn’t look like it and I’ll never claim my hands to be clean, but I didn’t want this anymore than you did.”

“So then why stay?”

“Information,” I was fearful to leave, “told Eli long time ago I could help gather information on the operations for him.”

“But then you got sent to the valley,” Lance held back the small laugh, “Kinda easy to notice where you spend the most time.”

“Yeah, guess that’s so. I didn’t want to but not like you get much say in this group.” Lance took a seat, “Then I got assigned to be personal guard to little Miss Mary and John didn’t want to give me up after that.”

“So will you join us after we take him down?”

“What do you mean by taking him down?”

“Classified information,” Chance’s jaw set, leaning back in the chair, “Can’t risk it.”

“You can trust him though,” Faith pleaded, “He might be able to help you.”

He let out a sigh, “That may be true but its going to be hard enough to convince everyone that you’re not going to hurt them,” Chance faced her, running a hand gently down her cheek, “Trust is a hard thing to earn in times like these.” Faith closed her eyes, leaning into his hand, “You have to be prepared to not get all the information right away, or even the same level of respect for your insights.”

“You’ll be my voice though right?” Her eyes opened, glancing at Lance, “Lance’s too?”

“Of course, it's just going to take some time and they’re going to try and test your loyalty.”

“Do you doubt mine?” Lance saw the look on her face, the one that wanted to know the answer to a different question, “Will you treat me like an outcast too?”. 

Faith never expected to be welcomed with open arms, but she never considered that Chance very well might play along with the others, keep himself in the majority, Lance never thought to warn her because he never doubted what Chance’s answer would be.

“No,” he shook his head, voice clear and firm, “I believe in you and I know you.” Lance turned away as the two kissed, grabbing something to drink. “I love you,” he heard Chance whisper to her, clearing his throat.

“You two should eat something,” Lance pointed to the bowls in front of them, seeing the blood run up Chance’s neck, “Then get some sleep. You can go back to the jail in the morning.” 

He nodded, “Thank you.” The two ate quickly talking amongst themselves as Lance moved about the house cleaning up and settling himself in the living room, some of the papers  from earlier in front of him again. He’d look up now and then, enjoying the sound of the two of them talking, oh how he missed the days of Sage when she was young and bringing friends that she met in the county over. How they all seemed to never quite run out of things to talk about, the laughter that would erupt, even how there never seemed to be enough snacks for them all. Simpler days, memories more precious now that they were gone. 

He waved at the two of them as they made their way to the spare room, Lance making his way to the backyard, listening to the sounds of the night. Lance pulled out the old crate under the lawn chair, hands finding the recent project he was working on, a wooden jackalope. He’d made them before but never to the detail he was attempting this time around. It was the fur around the eyes that he was having the most trouble with, had to be just right, and a little harder with the limited light Lance seemed to be getting nowadays. 

Lance didn’t look up as he heard the soft footsteps making their way through the house towards him. “How much sleep did you get,” Lance asked, with a small smirk.

“Plenty,” Chance said leaning against the door frame, “Can’t do much else with fresh stitches.” 

Lance gave a chuckle, “Really have changed since the night at the church.” Their two eyes met, Chance giving a shrug, “What can I help you with?”

“Straight to the point,” Chance pushed himself off the frame, taking a few steps towards Lance, “Saw the papers you were looking at earlier. You got a lot of information on Jacob.”

“Try to keep tabs as best I can.”

“Do you really want out of Eden’s Gate?” Chance asked, crossing his arms.

“Yeah,” Lance set the tools in his hands down, “I really do. What are you proposing?”

“How close can you get to Jacob at this point,” Chance deflected, his narrow eyes assessing Lance’s every move.

“Personally? Not close enough to have him reveal secrets,” Chance rolled his eyes, “To get information? I could get close enough to break into most places you needed me to get too.”

His green eyes lit up, Chance’s thumb rubbing against his chin, “I still can’t tell you what we have planned, but if you can get yourself back into Jacob’s good graces then I can help get you out for good.”

Lance leaned back in the chair, “You sure you can do that? No offense but its not always easy to get out and stay out with Jacob.”

Chance waved him off, “Just need you to make one big heist of information and then we can work on taking him down.”

“So you have a plan?” Chance shrugged, the movement giving Lance a cause for an eye roll, “Classified I assume. What information were you needing? Some is going to be harder to get a hold of more than others.”

“You’re willing to help me?” Lance nodded, crossing his heart, “I need to know the end game for the trials he’s been putting me through.” Chance shifted, “There has to be one, sometimes I think I have an idea of what it is, because things just start to feel familiar when I walk by locations, but I can’t seem to figure it out.”

“You don’t want to be a pawn anymore.”

“Especially for Jacob,” he shuddered, “Do you think you could find that out?”

Lance sighed, “I can try. Something like that though? Jacob isn’t going to have it written down clearly. I’m going to have to break into his office for that. Gonna need a good plan to get that done, I can’t do it alone.”

Chance nodded, “I’ll help you.”

“You have a plan already?” Lance narrowed his eyes, “You’re not going to expect me to pull a Mission Impossible are you?”

Chance laughed, “No, nothing like that,” he pulled the other chair closer to Lance, “It is however very reckless, very stupid, and something you and I can’t tell anyone else about.” Chance held out his hand, “Do we have an agreement?”

Lance looked Chance up and down, there was no way he was going to let it go. He seemed to have his mind set on going through with finding the information he wanted, information that even Lance may not have been able to find for him. If Lance didn’t help him, Chance was as good as dead by the end of it all. Lance grabbed hold of Chance’s hand, “Yeah we got ourselves an agreement,” Someone has to keep you safe.

[amydancepants-peralta]

6 & 77, if you can please 🥰💕

Okay hi @jacobperaltaz!  I’m very sorry this is so late … but I think my mind went into self-isolation for a bit there.  I hope the length of this makes up for my tardiness 😬

(big thank yous to @amyscascadingtabs, @fezzle and @b99peraltiago for all your help with this!  It takes a village! 💕)

(6: I love you & 77: Fuck, I have to be drunk to deal with you.)

the nine stages of a pregnant Amy Santiago

The level of tiredness that Jake Peralta feels tonight seeps all the way through to his bones, his eyelids held open by imaginary toothpicks as he rocks back and forth, soothing his son back to sleep with the steady rhythm.

It was only four weeks ago that, in what seemed like a mili-second but in actuality had stretched on for hours, Amy had given birth to their son.  And there have been many, many great moments in Jake’s life, but standing in a hospital room, gripping his wife’s hand as they both heard their son cry for the first time, will forever and always hold the top spot in his heart.  

The transition to home life had been challenging, like all life with a newborn is, and when baby Leo had let out his trademark cry half an hour ago Amy had groaned from her position next to Jake, legs clearly feeling heavier than cement as she attempted to raise herself out of bed.  But Jake had recognised this particular cry as the ‘my diaper is no longer clean and I demand a replacement’ cry, and had mumbled to his wife that it was his turn before stumbling towards the nursery like a half-awake zombie. 

(Truthfully, as far as Jake was concerned; any late night call that didn’t involve the boob needed to be his turn.  He and Amy, after all, were in this together - no matter what.)

Jake had changed the dirty diaper like the pro he’d become long before Amy had even given birth (turns out there were some advantages to having a Type A, over-preparing wife); and after lifting his son back into his arms and breathing in that incredibly addictive ‘new baby’ smell, he had started walking around the room, taking in all of the photographs and keepsakes that made it all so tastefully decorated.

Stopping by the changing table and picking up a framed photo of a selfie he and Amy had taken on their honeymoon, Jake twists to show the photograph to his son, pretending that even though his eyes are almost all the way closed, Leo can somehow still see what’s being held in front of him.  “This is your mama, baby boy.  She is literally the greatest person you’ll ever know, and you may not realise this just yet, but you have totally hit the jackpot by having her as your mother.  Just like I did all those years ago, when she shook my hand for the very first time.  I didn’t recognise the sparks until much later, but I’ve felt them every day since.”

From his warm and snuggly position within the crook of Jake’s arm, Leo lets out a tiny sniffle as fatigue begins to overtake his tiny body, and Jake’s heart squeezes at the sheer sweetness of the sight.  Settling in to the upholstered rocking chair that had been a gift from Amy’s parents, Jake uses his socked feet as leverage against the hardwood floor, moving the chair to replicate the same rhythm as before while he watches his son fall asleep in his arms.  

The world could take away all of the arrests he’s made, wipe out all of the cases he’s solved; and Jake wouldn’t care one bit.  This bundle of perfection right here, is the greatest thing he’s ever done.  

The Peralta curse didn’t stand a chance of survival in this home.  

“You, me and Mommy, bubba.  We make a dream team,” he whispers, glancing over at the baby monitor quickly to make sure his voice hasn’t woken his sleeping wife.  He can hear the gentle snores that only come out when Amy is really tired (the same ones that she is ADAMANT don’t happen, ever), and smiles in silent victory before turning his attention back to his now sleeping son.  The frame that Jake had just held in his hands is still resting along the edge of the table, and he takes in he and Amy’s happy, relaxed faces - a picture of total contentment after spending an entire day on a white sandy beach with absolutely no interruptions from their captain.  

Despite everything that they’d been through together, Amy Santiago still manages to amaze him every day - and watching her transform her body for nine months, purely to create a safe growing space for their child, only made Jake fall in love with her all the more.  

Especially because - much like her drinking scale - each month had brought about a new, different version of Amy.  And though she may not be in the right frame of mind for Jake to tell her all about it just yet, he lets the memory of it all wash over him as his son sleeps happily in his arms.  

Month One - Emotional Amy

It all begins on one seemingly innocent evening, as Jake walks back into the living room after calling his mother.  From his path, he can see Amy’s shoulders are bouncing with the steady movements that he knows only belong to those all-consuming sobs that happen so rarely, but were truly the worst thing in the world for him to see.  

With his phone landing on a spare pillow as he casts it aside, Jake makes his way towards his wife, enveloping her in his arms without a second thought as he presses gentle kisses against her hairline.  

His shirt is soaked through to the shoulder within seconds, and after a long few minutes the shuddering begins to slow.  Having spent the last few moments casing the scene in front of him, desperate to find the cause for such devastation (and frustratingly, coming up empty), Jake casts careful eyes towards Amy, raising his eyebrows in silent query.

Wiping her hand along the bottom of her nose, Amy rolls her eyes in mock amusement.  “Ugh, I don’t even know where that came from.”

Jake’s eyes flit towards the TV screen, ignoring the advertisement for life insurance as he turns his attention back to Amy.  “Honestly babe, I have no idea either.”  He waits for a moment, listening as her breath begins to return to normal before continuing.  “Wanna talk about it?”

She shrugs, mirroring Jake’s quick glance at the TV before shifting her position, resting her head against her husband’s chest instead.  “It was nothing, really.  Just some dumb ad.”

Ahh.  Nodding, Jake wraps one arm around Amy’s waist, letting his fingers splay out along her side.  “Was it the bank one again?”

Amy shakes her head, burrows in a little further.  

“The broken coffee machine that reunites the long-lost friends?”

Another shake.

“Ohhh, it’s gotta be the detergent one then, right?!”

Letting out a heavy sigh, Amy looks up at Jake, resting her chin against his chest.  “It wasn’t any of them.  I can’t even … you’ll just have to wait and see it, babe.”  Her head drops down again, one hand reaching underneath to grip Jake a little tighter from her position.  “Just stick around, okay?”

“I’m not going anywhere, Ames.”

It only takes one and a half more ad breaks before the offender returns, in all it’s tear-jerking glory:  the Chevrolet Equinox - packed in with an all time high towing capacity.  

Jake feels the deep breath run through Amy’s chest as the thick wheels sling mud across the screen, a supposedly tough voice muttering it’s way through specifications that Jake truly has never really understood as his attention turns towards his wife, all the tell-tale signs of a imminent crying session flashing bright and loud.  In confusion, he blinks back towards the screen, making sure that he is, in fact, still watching an overpriced advertisement … for a CAR … before turning back to Amy, his arms instinctively wrapping around her as the tears begin to fall.  

“I mean, they must have just worked so hard on that car … and look at it, it’s so … so … strong!”  Sighing, Amy rests her head against Jake’s shoulder, nestling in for the long haul.  “An all-time high.  Their parents must be SO proud.”

Nodding, Jake runs his hands back up and down Amy’s back, temporarily unable to speak as the price of the car flashes up on the screen before merging into an ad for Cheerios.  Briefly, he remembers to add cereal to the shopping list, then glances down at his desolate wife.  

They’ve been together for so long by now that the notion of Amy crying at a commercial was not a new one - but an ad that doesn’t even have a tugging at the heartstrings kind of moment?  Rather, was chockfull of unnecessary testosterone and way-too-shiny-to-be-realistic vehicles?  That was entirely new territory.  

Her eyes are relatively dry by now, and she’s humming along to an ad for jelly, but Jake still doesn’t understand what just happened.  Cars aren’t designed to break people’s hearts (and okay, maybe coffee machines and detergents weren’t supposed to either, but you can see the angle they’re going for).  And then, with a glance to the right, he picks up on the packet of hormone tablets still resting on the kitchen bench after Amy had taken one right before dinner.  

Smooth solve, Detective.  Amy had mentioned there may be side effects, and really Jake had just nodded when she’d said it, because honestly after the plethora of pellets that the two of them had digested during all those months of trying, side effects no longer seemed to concern him.  

Perhaps, these reactions were going to be slightly more noticeable than the others.  (Although, just quietly, he does miss how soft his hair felt during those months.  If only he could figure out which of the 389 different tablets had been the cause.)

Amy looks up at Jake with a grin as the opening credits to Property Brothers begin, and without hesitation he leans down to place a quick kiss against her lips.  She was making her body jump through so many hoops; all in the hopes of being able to start a family with him, and there really won’t ever be a way for Jake to describe just how thankful he is that somebody like Amy Santiago could fall in love with him.  He’d do whatever he could to make her happy, and consoling her through a few extra tears seems like the least of the world’s problems. 

She sighs against his lips, pushing up slightly for another kiss and smiling, resting her head against Jake’s chest entirely as the episode begins.  It’s turning into a night just like all the others, and he could have a thousand more and still never get enough.  

And so with the coming weeks, Amy cries.  When Jake notices they’re nearly out of butter, and buys two extra from the store because they’re on sale.  When he pulls an extra blanket over to the couch, before she’s even sat down.  She cries when one of her newer officers hands in an arrest report, and it’s so neat and so thorough that she’s able to approve and pass it on to Holt without any need for corrections; and cries when the local fruit shop has avocados on sale.

There are times when Jake wonders if maybe they should speak to their doctor, but then he reasons that if Amy isn’t concerned, then he shouldn’t be.  And a few weeks later, when she holds up a positive test and beams at him like the brightest sunshine in all the world, things finally begin to make a little more sense.  

Month Two - Always Hot Amy

There is absolutely no secret to the fact that Jake considers Amy to be the single most hottest woman he’s ever met.  Holding the ability to turn him on with a simple flick of a button, Jake has long since been an admirer (and frequent worshipper) at the Altar of Amy.  

But five weeks in to what they eventually discover to be her pregnancy, Amy’s hotness level have skyrocketed to a record-breaking high - literally becoming the Hottest Woman in the World: Ultra Sweaty Edition. 

“Uhh … babe?”  Jake begins hesitantly.

“Yeah?”

“So I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, because I am absolutely a fan of what you are wearing, but … how are you not freezing right now??”

Amy looks over at Jake, furrowing her brow as she glances down at her current outfit of just her underwear and Jake’s favourite blue hoodie.  Shrugging, she looks over at her husband, seemingly noticing for the first time that he’s covered head to toe in socks, jeans, sweater and a beanie.  “Wait.  Are you cold, babe?”

Chuckling, Jake reaches out a hand towards Amy as she walks towards him, taking in the slight sheen of her perspiring skin and tucking it away for future reference (honestly, it’s a testament to her power, that even covered in sweat Jake still finds Amy beyond attractive).  “I mean, you’ve cranked the air-conditioning into Antarctica Mode, so … yeah, a little.”

Her fingers slide against his skin, toying with his wedding band before dipping beneath the sweater to touch his back, and oh she’s warm, so very warm.  He sighs, and she smiles, and there really can’t ever be a doubt that Amy Santiago is just … everything.

Pushing herself onto her tippy toes, Amy juts her chin forward in a silent request for a kiss, and it’s a demand that Jake is only too happy to oblige.  “I’m sorry babe,” she mumbles against his lips, impossibly warm hands scaling slowly up to the centre of his spine.  “We can turn it back up.  I’m pretty sure I’ve still got some sponges in the cupboard somewhere from last time.  Those things were surprisingly absorbent.”

Shaking his head, Jake wraps his hands around Amy’s waist, smiling as she jumps from the cool touch of his still kind-of-freezing hands.  “No way, Ames.  There’s a teeny tiny version of the two of us growing in there, and we need to make sure they stay nice and warm.”

Her teeth bite into her lower lip slightly, bridling the same excitement that washes over her face whenever Jake mentions the fact that they were most definitely having a baby.  It’s the same giddiness that bubbles up inside his stomach at the thought, and there are days when the anticipation of it all is just too much.  

Amy’s palms flatten against his back, and she presses herself against him in a move that they both know is going to end well.  “I guess that just means that I’m going to have to find ways to warm you up then, detective.“

In a few weeks time, when she’s finished compiling the First Trimester Pregnancy Binder and researching the heck out of the remaining two, Amy will come to understand that it’s an elevation of her hormone levels and an increase in her metabolism that had brought on the sudden need to perspire with every passing minute.  She still steals her husband’s hoodies - because within the four walls of their apartment, all of Jake’s jackets belong to Amy - and on her days off he will often come home and find her wrapped up in that and little else.  It may or may not become his favourite sight to come home to (soon to be taken over by the sight of her cuddling their son, and then playing with their toddler while she struggles with the growing bump of baby number two … the list goes on, but you get what he means).

In the meantime, Jake perseveres by jumping at any chance to duck down to their local bodega - if for no other reason than to thaw out for a minute - and slowly Amy’s body learns to adjust to the changes without perspiration.  

And then, the morning sickness comes.  

Month Three - Life Kinda Sucks RN Amy

Month Three almost hits them like clockwork, waking Amy up early one morning with the overwhelming need to vomit and giving her mere seconds to react before it will be too late.

By day six, they’ve got the routine down pat:  Amy makes a run for it as soon as the nausea hits, and Jake heads into the kitchen for a cool glass of water; resting it on the counter next to the sink before settling in beside Amy to rub her back in the way he knows she loves.  Her toothbrush is forever at the ready, and on their days off Jake will run a bath while she brushes, using the camomile scented bath bombs that his wife has always loved until one day the scent begins to turn her stomach all over again.  

Each day from then on becomes a process of discovery, each playing the game of Whats Going To Make Amy Throw Up Today, in which neither of them are ever really winners.  

It takes them several trials, but eventually they figure out a safe routine for their drive to work each morning - Amy in the passenger seat with the window cracked open at exactly 23%, the radio set on low volume to her favourite NPR station and her hand resting against Jake’s leg as he drives 7 miles below the limit.  Her hand squeezes his knee every time he shifts to hit the brake, and he grips it right back once the car is parked and they slowly walk into the precinct.  

She keeps up appearances, refusing to be considered as anything less than an asset to the workplace, but in both her and Jake’s desk drawers there are an endless supply of Saltine crackers - one of the few things that her morning-sickness-ravaged stomach seems to be able to keep down.  She learns to avoid the area surrounding Boyle’s desk at all costs, and to take the stairs whenever possible because the dipping motion of the elevator coming to a stop makes her stomach feel as though it is literally turning inside out.  

Her body is starting to give away the signs of a life growing inside her, and so Amy starts carrying boxes everywhere and choosing larger-than-necessary outfits, all in an attempt to conceal what must be so obvious to the rest of the office.  And even though the urge to burst out the good news every single time they walk into the bullpen, the fear of something going wrong is just too strong, and so they wait.

(And pretend it’s totally normal for Amy to be running to the ladies room multiple times for the first three hours of every day.  Or for Jake to check up on his wife at increasingly regular intervals.)

(Okay, maybe the second one is actually completely normal.)

Within the secured familiarity of their home, Amy falls apart every afternoon, pointing out just how tired and frumpy and over it she is, knowing that she can complain to Jake without ever feeling judged.  She loves being pregnant - and genuinely cannot wait to meet their little one - but right now, with the constant dizziness and the need to pee every other damn minute, it’s hard to feel anything but BLAH.  

And every afternoon without fail, Jake takes Amy into his arms, absorbing all of her frustrations and giving her nothing but support in return.  Sometimes they go for walks around the neighbourhood - sharing secret glances of elation every time they pass another couple with a baby in a stroller - and sometimes, he sets up the living room with a pile of blankets and a list of documentaries, all of which Amy has been dying to see (and maybe there will be a sneaky action movie thrown in, just to spice things up).  

He holds her through the night when she needs it, and in the morning he’s by her side once again, holding back the hair that escaped her messy ponytail.  They were in this together, and though temporary, moments like these never seem so terrible when you share them with the one you love.

Even when the one you love suddenly has unquenchable cravings for sour gummies mixed into yoghurt with granola on top.  Or - and this is the truly strange one - for VEGETABLES.  

Month Four - Life is AMAZING Amy

Jake’s fingers toy with the peeling edges of the sticker on his bottle of Heisler, laughing at Gina’s anecdotes as she finishes up a story about spending an afternoon with one of her fans.  The squad had gathered at Shaw’s tonight to celebrate Terry’s birthday, and it was turning out to be a pretty great night - if for no other reason than how glowing Amy looks as she chats with Boyle a few metres away.

By the grace of all that is good, the morning sickness seems to have finally held itself at bay, and if the adorable little shimmy that his wife made when she slipped into her new floral dress earlier tonight is anything to go by, Amy was finally starting to feel a lot more human.

Lifting the bottle up to take a quick sip, Jake savours the taste as it lingers on his tongue.  He hadn’t done much drinking in the last few months (because if Amy can’t drink, then he can’t drink, hashtag SOLIDARITY), but Amy had encouraged him tonight, buying the first round as she reminded him that the more you drink, the more I can kiss off your lips later - and honestly, Jake’s never taken a draft as quickly as he did at when she handed him a bottle.  Truth be told, he didn’t intend on drinking a lot - he and Amy had an ultrasound appointment booked for mid tomorrow morning, and the anticipation of getting another glimpse of their baby was far more appealing than any drunken adventure could ever be.  

His attention turns back to Amy - because in all honesty its never too far away from being on her anyway - and when she laughs at something Charles says he cannot help but replicate her grin with his own.

The redhead across from Jake clears her throat loudly, far too pointed for it to be anything but a deliberate protest, and he grins sheepishly.  “Sorry, G.”

With a roll of her eyes, Gina tips her almost empty glass towards Amy.  “Don’t get me wrong, boo.  It’s great that you’re having a mini pantsuit-wearing baby with your wife, but you two are still so loved up it’s almost sickening.”

The sheepish grin turns smug, but he doesn’t care.  He and Amy are all loved up, and it’s ridiculous and stupid but also the happiest he’s been.  They’re creating a family, of their very own, and life is awesome.  He looks back over at Amy, catching her eye this time, and she grins when he winks.  The nights have gotten cooler, and he’s discovered that the feeling of falling asleep with a (sometimes naked!) Amy snuggled into him, the bump of their tiny but growing baby pressing up against his back, is truly the greatest thing.  Even more so, when he relinquishes the Little Spoon role and wraps Amy up into his arms, leaving his palm flat against her stomach so that he can hug their future child just as much.  

(Seriously, if anybody had ever thought to tell him how great it is to be the Big Spoon in that situation, he would have put his hand up on Day One.)

Gina clears her throat again, and Jake shrugs.  “I know.  It’s a little much.  But … this right here is proof that not all Peralta’s are lost causes, Gina.  And you’re wrong about the pantsuit wearing, by the way.  Our baby is clearly going to be a mini McClane slash Harry Potter … or Hermione, depending on how things go.”  He drains the bottle, letting it hit the table with a heavy thud.  “Point is, baby Peralta-Santiago could be a nerd or a badass or both, and it will still be super-mega-loved.”

His friend is in the middle of replying, “Plus, Iggy will always be an option for cool lessons” when Jake notices that Amy is now within hearing range, and walking towards him with a giant smile on her face.  Shuffling over slightly to give her a space to sit, Jake lifts his head slightly to receive Amy’s welcoming kiss as she leans across the table.  

“You’re totally right, babe.  Our baby is going to be a nerdy badass.  And I think that’s awesome.”  Her warm eyes slide over to Linetti.  “Hey, Gina.  Saw you sitting here with my handsome husband and thought I’d come say hi.”  

Gina nods, and Amy looks over at Jake, biting her lower lip softly, holding back an even wider smile.  “And, to tell this guy that I love him.”  Reaching out, she ruffles his hair, and Jake can feel the blush rising in his cheeks.  

“Amy’s body seems to be producing a lot of ‘affirmation stylez’ hormones lately,” he explains in way of apology, and Gina nods warily.

“It sure is!  And it’s amazing.  My skin is all glowy, I’m not vomiting every hour, AND I’m having a baby with the love of my life.  What’s not to be happy about?!”

“Ugh.”  Turning her attention towards Boyle as he passes by, Gina shouts out - “Charles!  Whiskey!” Before swivelling back to the couple.  “Sorry.  But you guys are just … I have to be drunk to deal with you.”

Amy chuckles, leaning forward so that she can rest her elbows on the surprisingly un-sticky table.  “Whatever, Gina.  You can act all tough and put on that snarky exterior all you like, but you forget that I know you.  You love me.  And guess what?  I love you as well.”  The chuckle turns into laughter as the redhead’s face morphs into one of horror, reaching out to rest her hand on the table between them.  “I do.  You’ve been there for Jake so many times there’s no way either of you could count it all.  Through thick and thin, you created a safe space for this amazing person to turn into the man he is today, and I thank you, Gina.  Truly.  Life can be crazy, but it can also be so magical, and I love you.”  

Amy leans back, resting against Jake’s right side as he throws his arms around her shoulders.  “And you know you love me, too.  It’s okay if you don’t want to say it.  I’ve got enough serotonin running through my body right now to say it for both of us.  I love you, you love me, and we both love this guy right here.”

The roll of Gina’s eyes is small, but goes unnoticed as a gentle blush washes over her cheeks.  She clears her throat in an effort to break through the emotionally charged moment, muttering “Okay, let’s not go turning ourselves into purple dinosaurs or anything,” as she squirms in her seat.  Amy grins at her obvious discomfort, too high on the excitement of finding out the sex of her baby soon to be concerned with anything else.

“Gina!  My former lover and former sister.  I have an important task, and you’re the only one I can trust with it.” Charles interrupts, placing a new glass of whiskey on the table as he stands next to the booth.  “Come, help me get my picture taken.”

Straightening her back Gina scans the interior of the bar, eyebrows knitting when she doesn’t recognise any faces.  “Why, is there someone famous here?  Is it Beyoncé?  Charles, are you telling me Beyoncé is here?”

Cocking his head to the side, Charles mirrors Gina’s confused expression.  “Huh?  No, I need a photo taken with Baby Peraltiago in utero!  I’ve only gotten ten so far, and it’s not nearly enough for my slideshow!”

Staring for a beat, Gina quickly lifts her glass and downs the entire contents in one gulp.  “Ok that’s me out guys.  Remember to do your daily Gina-mandments for a rich and fulfilling life.  Peace out, G-Hive.”

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Charles flops into the seat that Gina vacated, and in his misery doesn’t notice Amy leaving a quick kiss below Jake’s ear before leaning in to whisper something.  She pulls away, locking eyes for a solid minute, and Jake clears his throat before standing.  “Yeah, we’re out too, bud.  Baby growing and all that.  Night!”

Bewildered, Charles glances around the empty booth.  “Was it something I said?”

Month Five - Horny Amy

Jake’s favourite of all months, by far.  And also, the most exhausting. 

But he’s a gentleman, and he’s definitely not going to go into the details. 

.

Yeah.  Most definitely his favourite.  

Month Six - Señora Santiago

It had been a long day at work, and Jake was beyond tired by the time he finally walked through the door.  Despite her ever-growing case of FOMOW, Amy’s shifts had been reduced slightly to allow time for her to rest, and the days moved infinitely slower without her calming presence.  

Jake notices her as soon as he walks through the door, spread out on the couch with her feet propped up on a pillow, and he throws her a smile as he slides his jacket off and hangs it on the rack.  “Hey, babe.  How are you feeling?”

There’s a soft grunt in reply, followed by a mumbled “Un poco cansada .… pero bien.”

Kicking off his shoes near the doorway, Jake’s socked feet pad across the living floor as he makes his way over to his wife.  He leans down for a gentle kiss against her forehead, running his thumb along her hairline while she looks up at him with those eyes that he never fails to get lost in (the same eyes that he kinda hopes that his son will grow up with).  “Ah, lo siento” is his automatic reply, moving his hand to run along her arm soothingly.

She grabs it before he has a chance to pull away, finely cut fingernails digging into his skin through the fabric as Amy tugs him back towards her.  “What was that you just said?”

Jake blinks.  “… Lo siento?  Oh man, did I say it wrong?”

“No!  You said it exactly right.  I just … when did you just start speaking Spanish?!”

“Oh, that.”

“YES, oh that!”

His grin is sheepish, and he rubs the back of his neck self-consciously before lifting Amy’s feet, settling onto the couch and returning them to his lap.  As his hands begin to rub, he shrugs - “I .. kinda started taking lessons about a year ago, and then life got a little crazy and I forgot to stick with it.  After we fell pregnant, it kinda felt like the right thing for me to start learning again.”

Her toes wriggle against his fingers, and Jake breaks his focus, looking up at Amy.  “You never told me you started learning before,” she mumbles, a thoughtful look on her face, and Jake finds himself shrugging again.

“I guess … I just wanted to understand what you and your family were talking about whenever you’re all together.  It can get a little intense, listening to the words flying about and having literally no idea what the topic is.”  Running his thumbs in deep circles across the arch of Amy’s foot, Jake grins as she lets out a sigh.  “Plus, I really wanted your parents to think I was good enough for you.”

Amy’s legs tense above Jake’s lap as she pulls them away, and she reaches out a hand for assistance as she attempts to sit up (a simple movement that, with her growing baby bump, was becoming not so simple).  She keeps a grip of Jake’s hand, resting his palm against her belly as she reaches up with the other to cup his face.  Under his touch, Jake begins to feel the gentle kick as his son moves about freely.  

“You feel that, babe?”  Amy’s voice is soft, and gentle in its tone, but all Jake can do in reply is a simple nod.  

“That right there, is your son, and he loves you so. much. already, it’s ridiculous.  He practically does somersaults in my womb every time you enter the room.  He adores you, just like I adore you, and you don’t ever need to worry about not being good enough for either of us.”

A lump begins to form in Jake’s throat, memories of conversations with his father about the Peralta Curse still swimming about in his mind.  If there was anything that was becoming abundantly clear, it was that no curse could possibly hold strong against the heart of Amy Santiago.  HIs voice might be cracking a little when he speaks next, but he honestly doesn’t care.  “I love you so much.”

She responds with a kiss, one hand holding him tight to her belly as the other strokes his cheek, and oh, esto es amor.

*

In the passing weeks, Amy takes to speaking Spanish on a more frequent basis - very aware that their baby boy is able to hear things now, if the multitude of pregnancy books that are stacked up on her and Jake’s besides tables are anything to go by.  It’s unmistakeable, the pride that Jake feels whenever he picks up on what his wife is saying; or even plucks up the courage to respond in this once foreign language, and he never thought he’d say this but he genuinely cannot wait until they meet up with Amy’s parents again.  They never could have seen this coming.

And then Jake comes home late one night, and finds Amy nestled into the rocking chair that had been a hand-me-down from her brother Matthew, singing to their son so soft, so sweetly that his hearts just about beats right out of his chest.  

He walks into the room just as Amy begins the next verse, “Me haces feliz cuando los cielos están gris …” and when she notices him in the room, switches languages with the skill of someone who has been doing it their whole life (and just how one day, someday, their son will).  Her voice is softer now, and the look in her eyes pulls Jake in with a single blink.  “You’ll never know dear, how much I love you …”

The rest of the song falls away, as he leans in for a kiss - a soft kiss, full of love and hope and promises and wonder.  This child of theirs was already so lucky, already so loved.  

These next three months are going to be the longest of his life.

Month Seven - Worried Amy

The moment the elevator doors slide open and the bullpen comes into focus, Jake’s eyes scan the room with only one target in mind.  It takes him less than three seconds to find her, sitting at his desk in such a familiar way that his heart pangs a little for all the times she sat there and didn’t refer to him as the love of her life.

He can see Amy’s chest rise and fall as she releases the breath she was obviously holding, her relief undeniable as her eyes lock onto his, holding steady as he walks towards her with a careful step.

Today had been just your standard work day, with he and Rosa heading out to Bushwick to follow a lead that had (thankfully) proven to be very successful.  And while texts between Jake and Amy had always been a pretty regular occurrence - ramped up, naturally, once they started dating - there had been a steady vibration coming from his jean pocket for the last two hours, and instinctively he knew that there was way more to this than just his wife killing time while on desk duty.

Shooting a glance at Rosa, Jake waits for the detective to nod before making a beeline for his desk.  He could tell, now that he was closer, that Amy was showing all the classic signs of Distracted Amy - jiggling knees, chewing on the lower right corner of her lip, and the persistent twirl of her wedding band, round and round.  He grabs her wrist gently when he’s close enough, stopping the movement and using his thumb to stroke her soft skin soothingly.  “Lock-up?” 

Amy nods quickly, her jaw unclenching slightly as she swallows whatever thought she was about to vocalise.  She doesn’t even wait the usual thirty-four seconds for Jake to leave before she’s following him into the evidence lock-up, far too distracted by whatever’s on her mind to care about the rest of the bullpen noticing that they’ve walked off together.

“You okay?” Jake asks carefully, wrapping one arm around her shoulders once the lock to the room has been secured, breathing in the familiar coconut scent of Amy’s hair as she falls into his embrace.  There’s a nod, felt up against his chest, and then she’s tucking her head down into the juncture of his neck and tightening her grip around his waist tenfold.  

“I am now.  Just .. can’t turn it off.”  Her voice is muffled, but warm against his skin.

“Turn what off, babe?”

There’s a pause, and a heavy sigh.  “My mind.”  

Jake begins to move his hand slowly up and down Amy’s back, waiting for his wife to continue before speaking.  He’s never found a reason to turn off her mind - Amy’s mind is one of his favourite things about her. 

After another minute or two, she lifts her head slightly, resting her chin against his chest.  “There was a shoot-out in Williamsburg today.”

“Oh yeah?”

Amy nods.  “Yeah.  And even though I knew you were in Bushwick, and that you were one hundred percent not on the scene, I couldn’t stop feeling terrified that maybe, somehow, you had ended up there.”

“I’m sorry if I didn’t answer your texts right away, babe.”

She shakes her head.  “No, you were working a case, I get it.  But even after you replied, I started worrying about what would have happened if you had been there, if something had happened to you, and I just …” tucking herself back into Jake’s neck, Amy lets out a choked sob.  “Are we crazy, Jake?  Is it absolutely insane that we’re bringing a new life into this world that is going to be entirely dependent on us, when there’s always a very good chance that one of us doesn’t come home?”

“Ames, hey … shhh, babe.  It’s fine.  I’m fine, we’re fine.  You don’t need to worry.”  Jake can feel the tears threaten to sting his eyes, once again cursing his mother for passing down a tendency for sympathetic crying.  “And yeah, maybe we’re a little crazy, but - ”

“And then I was reading a news article about this shark attack in Manhattan, and I started freaking out because … what if we take our son to Coney Island and something like that happens?  Or we get into a car accident or something?”

“I mean … do we even know if there are sharks in the water here?”

She sniffs loudly, raising her head to meet Jake’s stare.  “26.  There are 26 different species in New York waters.”

“Okay, I love that you know that.”

Amy shrugs sheepishly.  “I might have looked it up.  Which didn’t help at all, really.  So then I started worrying about my maternity leave, and if we can really afford for me to be away for so long, and look I know this probably sounds really paranoid but I swear this baby isn’t moving nearly as much as he normally does, and it’s all just kinda freaking me out, Jake!”

“Ames, Ames, Ames … come here, babe.  You’ve gotta calm down a little bit, okay?”  Amy’s arms don’t wrap around him this time, choosing instead to stay tucked up as she grabs onto the chain that his badge hangs from, holding it close to her own chest.  The tears start flowing now, pooling against his work shirt, and Jake’s heart breaks a little at the sight of it.  He can feel the fear and worry radiating from every pore on his wife’s body, and it’s worse than he could have possibly imagined.  

Slowly, the crying converts to the occasional hiccup, and Jake runs one hand through Amy’s hair, careful to keep the work-appropriate ponytail looking neat and professional.  “We’re going to be fine, Ames.  And as for the whole shark thing, I’ll have you know that you are looking at someone who very recently did some detective work into a very similar subject.”

Amy wipes her hand under her nose, looking up in confusion.  “You did?”

“Oh, absolutely.”  Clearing his throat, Jake maintains his gentle grip around Amy’s waist and continues.  “I’ll have you know, Ames, that you are more likely to get killed by a cow than a shark.  And I don’t know about you, but I have not seen any cows at the beach lately.  So we can totally go take our mini-McClane to the beach on weekends.”

“We’re not naming our son after a movie, Jake.”

“No comeback for the cow thing, I see.  How’s about another amazing factoid?  There are literally more ways to shuffle a deck of cards, then there are atoms on the earth.”  Jake pauses, miming an explosion on top of his head before returning his hands to her waist, clearly proud of the facts he’s just recited.

Amy narrows her eyes, cocking her head to one side.  “You’ve been reading Buzzfeed articles again, haven’t you?”

“Whaaaaat? No, I’m just really really into cows and atoms, and - okay yes, I might have clicked on a link or two the other day.”  He winces.  “But .. it was turns out it was all in the aid of helping you calm your nerves!  We’re two of the best cops the NYPD has ever seen, Ames.  And we’ve had to put up with some pretty crappy circumstances throughout the years.  Nothing is going to get to us.”

“But what if …”

Jake shakes his head.  “There is a whole shelf of parenthood related books taking pride of place in our reading room, and at least 10 binders that I can think of that are choc-filled to the brim with all of the information anybody could possibly want to know about babies.  We are more than prepared, babe.  Whatever else comes, we’ll figure it out.  We’re a team, and more importantly, we’re a family.  And nothing’s going to change that.”

Amy’s eyes grow soft, and she rests her hands on his chest.  Briefly, a flashback to a lot of change around here, huh? runs through Jake’s mind, and he smiles at the realisation of just how far they’ve come.  His wife’s voice is still heavy with trepidation, but there’s a little less fear in her gaze, and he’s counting that as a win.  “You really think so, Jake?”

Unable to resist, Jake leans his head down slightly for a soft kiss, pressing his lips against Amy’s and trying with all his might to chase her worries away.  “I do.  And as for you, young man -” he begins, sliding his hands from Amy’s waist to rest on either side of her belly.  “How about you calm your Mama’s mind and do a little twist, or a kick or something?”

It takes another minute or two, and Jake is just about to ramp up the scalding when he hears Amy’s sharp intake of breath, and only a second later he feels the gentle push of his son’s body against his hand.  “That’s more like it,” Amy breathes, busting out a smile that could light up the room.

“Much better,”  Jake agrees, crooking his finger underneath Amy’s chin and pulling her forward for another kiss.  “We’re going to do this together, babe.  You and me.  And don’t forget, we’ve got the whole 99 on standby if we ever need assistance.  I don’t even need to tell you how quickly Charles would jump into action if we asked.”

Amy grimaces, face brightening as she begins to laugh at the image.  “You’re absolutely right.  I love you, Jake Peralta.”

“I love you, Amy Santiago.”  Dipping his head lower, Jake runs his right hand in a gentle circle against Amy’s belly.  “And I love you as well, little Shrek.”

Amy’s body bounces with laughter, and she tugs Jake down for a soft thank you kiss.  “You always know the right thing to say, babe.  Thank you.”

“It’s both a blessing and a curse.  Besides, I think we’re both forgetting the most important detail here.”

“What’s that?”

“We both have Rosa’s number on speed dial.  Honestly, I pity whatever we put her up against.”

“Oh, absolutely.  Agreed.”

 Month Eight - Nesting Amy

It’s the overwhelming smell of Pledge, whacking Jake in the face as he opens their front door, that tells him that once again Amy has not had a relaxing day at home.

There was less than five weeks until their baby’s due date, and at the insistence of both Jake and Holt himself, Amy had been placed on maternity leave, with strict instructions to return only when she has a super-cute adorable baby to show off.  

So far, however, Amy has taken her doctor’s directive of ‘bed rest and preparation for your baby’s arrival’, and twisted it into ‘obsessively clean every square inch of your apartment’.

She’s waddling down the hallway of their apartment, arms full of freshly dried laundry, when she notices Jake is finally home.  “Hey babe!  How was work?”

Leaning over the pile of socks and shirts, Jake plants a chaste kiss against Amy’s lips.  There were a million ways to describe work without Amy in the building (boring, long and kinda lonely spring to mind), but right now he’s a little too distracted to give her a more concise answer.  “Ah, it was work.”

“Okay?”

Following her through to the kitchen, Jake takes the laundry from Amy’s hands and dumps them on the dining table, sorting the various items into piles just the way she likes.  “So,” he begins casually, “how many cans of Pledge did you go through today?”

Amy’s hands freeze mid-air, fingers still stretched out towards a wayward sock, and she glances at Jake out of the corner of her eye.  “Ah, just the one.”

“And the rest of the day you totally just relaxed on the couch and caught up with all those shows we never get time to watch, right?”

“Yep.  Sure did.”

Jake nods, taking a quick look at their open plan apartment.  “Geez, the windows look awfully sparkly today.”

Unable to contain her glee, Amy grins.  “I know!  I found this amazing glass cleaner that I thought I had run out of.  Those are the cleanest windows in New York City, babe.  You could practically eat off of them.”

“I’m definitely impressed, Ames.  Especially that you did it from your resting position on the couch.  Seriously, kudos to you.”

“Ugh.  Okay, fine!  You busted me.  But I can’t help it, babe!  Every time I sit down, I see another little speck of dust or I remember just how long it’s been since I’ve cleaned the air-conditioning vents and suddenly three hours have passed by.”  Wringing her hands together slightly, she shrugs.  “Also, I may have bumped into that lamp we had in the corner and broken it.  Or rather, the bump bumped into it.  I swear, just when I think I’ve gotten used to how big I’m getting, I grow another inch or seven.”  

Jake laughs, placing the last neatly folded shirt onto the pile of all the others.  “Hey, that’s my sexy as hell, domestic goddess wife you’re talking about there.“

She grunts, dropping her head down to look at her swollen stomach before looking back up at Jake.  “I don’t feel sexy.  I feel like a rotisserie chicken.”

“Okay, I’m really going to need you to distract me right now, so that I don’t make a terrible joke about juicy breasts.”

“Jake.”

“Got it.  You do not look like a rotisserie chicken, Ames.  You look like a beautiful woman, who is eight months pregnant and has spent her entire day cleaning an apartment that was already ridiculously clean.”

“I may have also moved some furniture around,”  Amy mumbles, interjecting quickly with a “Light furniture!  Just chairs and stuff.  Nothing big - well, you’ll see” as she notices the exasperated look on Jake’s face.  Oh, how he loves her.

“Ames, obviously I can’t stop you, and there’s no way I’m going to tell you what to do.  I just think right now would be the best time to follow your doctor’s orders and rest.  In a few weeks time, we’re both going to be rueing the day we had the chance to sleep and didn’t take it.”

Amy nods, coyly raising her eyebrows.  “I’ll do you a deal, Peralta.  I’ll spend the rest of the evening on the couch, so long as you’ll be my cuddle buddy.”

Grinning, Jake leans into Amy, pressing a miniature kiss against the tip of her nose.  “I’ll do you one better, babe.  I’ll stay with you on the couch all night tonight and tomorrow night; AND during the day you can put me on cleaning duty for anything that catches your eye, no matter how small.”  He winks, continuing.  “If you’re lucky, I might even be able to rustle up a French Maid outfit for added effect.”

Amy’s hands come to rest on either side of his face, her touch so amazingly warm that it still makes his heart skip all these years later.  “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Month Nine - Surprisingly good at French Amy

“PUTAIN!” Amy cries out, reaching out to grab the edge of Jake’s scrubs as she pulls him closer.    “Ça fait tellement mal!”

Wincing, Jake listens to the anguished cries of his wife, reaching one hand towards his collar and gripping her hand in his.  With the other, he fumbles for his phone, trying in vain to open the DuoLingo app and figure out just what exactly his wife was saying.  Judging from the tone, it wasn’t great - and she had mentioned once or twice that she’d minored in French in college - but he’d never heard such a regular string of completely incomprehensible words fall out of Amy’s mouth.  

A clammy hand grips the back of Jake’s neck, and its Amy pulling him forwards, yanking him until their foreheads are touching.  “Jake.  I can’t do this.  I can’t.  It hurts too much.”

None of this night was going to plan.

There are laminated copies of Amy’s birthing plan in every possible place - from their house to their car, the top drawers of both her and Jake’s desk, and even a copy with Captain Holt and Lieutenant Jeffords, just in case something should happen to go awry.  It was very clear cut in its instructions - single spaced, double sided, Santiago style - and had left no doubt in anyone close to them’s minds exactly what was expected to occur once Amy’s water finally broke.

What all the research and binders and testimonies hadn’t anticipated, and therefore turns out to be exactly what ends up happening, is a city-wide blackout with both Amy and Jake stuck in traffic after pursuing a lead on the other side of town, with absolutely no way out.

It had taken fourteen different phone conversations, the call in on several different favours and one tiny sacrifice to the gods before he and Amy had made it to their hospital, and by the time the nurses wheeled her into the delivery room, it was far too late for Amy to be considered for an epidural.  Jake’s heart had broken for her, as she was told the news and an undeniable look of terror ran over her features.  Absolutely nothing was going to plan - and while Amy’s water had indeed broken on her due date (Santiago’s are nothing if not punctual, after all) - Jake couldn’t help but feel that everything that had happened since that moment had more to do with the Peralta genes than his wife’s.  

But there was a snowball’s chance in hell that Jake was going to let Amy believe she couldn’t do this.  She absolutely could.  She could do anything.  And so he rests his weight against the side of the bed; flitting his eyes over to the clock on the table and calculating that they were probably only another twenty seconds away from another contraction, and crooks his finger into the edge of Amy’s chin, bumping her up slightly to meet his gaze.  “Yes you can, Ames.  You’re the strongest person I know, and you can do this.  I know you can.  And I’m going to be right here with you, the whole time.”

Closing her eyes as the wave of another contraction hits, Amy whispers “Merde” before gripping onto Jake’s hand for dear life, fingernails leaving tiny blood-filled crescent moons in his skin when she finally pulls away.  

*

The hands on the clock on the wall have moved significantly by the time Leo Peralta makes his debut, the unmistakeable sound of his cries bouncing off the hospital ward’s walls as he shouts his protest in the sudden change of environment.

Jake’s left hand is completely numb - he’s pretty sure Amy has squeezed all life out of it - but he is filled with total elation and a total adoration for the true warrior that is Amy.  He never could have done half of the things she did today, but even now after all of the pain she went through, there is an unbreakable smile on her face as she holds their son in her arms for the very first time.

(He’s also learned four brand new curse words, all of which he never would have expected to come out his gentle natured wife’s mouth, but he also hasn’t just pushed a human being out of his body, so really - who is he to judge?)

Jake rests on the bed next to Amy, leaning over slightly to run a finger along the edge of his son’s mouth in wonder.  It is incredible, really - how much he could love somebody so instantly, and so unconditionally.  “You did it, Ames.  You brought our son into the world.”

Amy smiles, unable to tear her eyes away from the tiny bundle in her arms just yet.  “We did it, babe.  There’s no way I would have been able to do this without you.”

He presses a kiss to the top of her head in response, and whispers I love you.  A moment later, Amy is passing him their son to hold, and it doesn’t seem right how somebody that holds so much weight in Jake’s life could feel so light right now.  

“Hey there, little man.  Welcome to the family, pal.”  He hears a sniff to his left, and turns to see Amy brush a tear away from her cheek.  

“My two favourite men in the whole world.  I just love you both, so much.  So much.”

Jake’s tears begin to fall as well, the overwhelming emotions of the day finally proving too much.

Finally, the child they had been hoping for, for so long, was here.  

And finally, they were parents.  

“Best day ever.”

***

With slow and careful movements, Jake lowers baby Leo into his crib, hovering over his still sleeping son for a minute to make sure that the movement hasn’t disturbed his sleep.  Parenting was hard, and he had suitcases instead of bags building up underneath his eyes, but there was a very small possibility that maybe he was kinda nailing it.  

He can feel all of the muscles in his body cry out in relief as he slips under the sheets, melting into the softest mattress he’s ever owned (and truly, a worthy investment in many ways).

Now that he was (thankfully) back in bed, and their apartment was (also thankfully) silent, Jake shifts his position so that he can look over at his sleeping wife.  Amy has missed out on more sleep than him by far, and is still recovering from what had happened only a month ago, but still she manages to look so crazily beautiful in her sleep that Jake cannot stop the smile that breaks out over his face.  

She has always managed to amaze Jake; and challenge him in ways that he’d never expected, but if there was anything to be taken from the last nine months, it was that there could never be anybody quite like Amy Santiago.

The memories of all that has passed wash over Jake as he reaches out to brush a stray lock of hair away from Amy’s face, and as she lets out a soft sigh in response he shuffles just that little bit closer.  

One day, he’ll be able to tell her about all the different Amy’s he met during her pregnancy.   But, for now, he’s happy to have it live in his memories.  

[prettybuckybaby]

felt your heartbeat and thought i am free; chapter two

Peter gets sick and the avengers help babysit

part four of single parent peter parker

masterlist

read on ao3 here

Harley has always been a morning person. It used to annoy his sister a lot, when she was woken up before the sun with all the noise coming from his garage where he would be taking cars apart and throwing pieces around. It’s always been one of his favourite things about visiting New York and staying with Tony; he can get up whenever he wants to and potter around in a workshop, making as much noise as he wants to, music blasting and throwing car parts across the room.

“Mr Keener, Miss Parker is currently outside of the lab. Would you like to let her in?”

“Yeah. Thanks, FRI,” Harley throws the spanner in his hand down on the work bench to his side and turning towards the door. Leia pushes the door open and runs straight into Harley’s leg. He frowns when he sees her crying. “What’s up, pumpkin?”

“Can’t find Daddy, Harls,” Harley coos, bending down and picking her up. “Not in his room,”

“I think Daddy is with Tony, sweetie pie. Shall we go and check?” He smiles when Leia nods. She tightens her legs around Harley’s waist and brings the fingers of one of her hands to her mouth, sucking on them gently. When they get up to Tony’s bedroom, Leia knocks on the door.

“Come in, kid,” Tony calls. Harley pushes the door open, smiling at Tony. The man is sitting up against the headboard, StarkPad in his hands. Peter is sleeping next to him, bundled in a ball beneath the blankets.

“There he is, darlin’.” He says, bouncing the toddler on his hip, nodding at the lump on the bed. “Daddy’s just a little sick at the moment,”

“Sick?” Leia frowns around her fingers, eyes filling with confusion.

“Yeah. You know when you feel all icky and get hot?” Leia’s frown deepens and she shakes her head. Tony laughs.

“You got your Daddy’s immune system, huh?” He asks, standing up and pinching her cheek. “You want some pancakes before you go to play group?”

“Is Daddy coming?” She says after nodding. Tony smiles.

“Sure he is,” Peter doesn’t stir as Tony picks him up, carrying him bridal style. “He can sleep on the couch,”

Harley follows behind Tony but heads into the kitchen while he puts Peter down on the couch. Harley perches himself on the worktop, Leia still on his hip. He reaches into the cupboard above his head and pulls a capri sun out and handing it to her. She pulls her fingers out of her mouth and takes the drink.

“Right,” Tony says as he walks into the kitchen. He takes Leia from Harley’s arm. “I know Daddy makes the best pancakes, but he’s sleeping. So, you’ll have to settle for Uncle Harley’s,”

“Hey! Why do I have to make them?” Harley narrows his eyes. “Why don’t you make them, it’s your kitchen.”

“It’s yours too, now, Harley. You need to get used to it,” Tony smirks. “Plus, I’m a frail old man, you can’t expect me to slave away making pancakes.” Harley’s eyes narrow further.

“You just don’t want to be told your pancakes are shit, old man,”

“Shit!” Leia giggles on Tony’s lap. Harley’s eyes widen as Tony starts laughing.

“No!” Leia giggles as she keeps repeating the word. “Stop encouraging her!” Harley snaps at Tony, who just laughs harder. “Fuck, Peter is going to kill me!”

“Fuck!” Leia is still giggling. Harley groans and turns around, lifting ingredients out of the cupboards.

“You better like my pancakes after all this, trouble,” Leia’s giggling dies down slightly as she grins up at Harley.

“So, what are you doing today, princess?” Tony and Leia talk about play group while Harley makes pancakes. When he turns around and hands Leia one on a plate, Tony has got toppings out and put them on the table. Leia frowns at the plate.

“What’s up?”

“Daddy doesn’t do them like this,”

“Okay,” Harley sighs patiently. “Well, how does Daddy do them?”

“Choc chips. Lots,” She says. Harley nods.

“Okie dokie. Here you go, old man,” Harley pushes the plate in front of Tony. The man frowns. “What?”

“Peter doesn’t do them like this,”

“Tough shit.” He says as he turns back around. He bangs his head on the cupboard when Leia repeats him.

“Serves you right, Keener.”

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

“Alright, bug. If Daddy is feeling better, he’ll come and pick you up. If he’s still feeling icky, I’ll come and get you, okay?” Leia sniffs slightly, kicking the mud with her feet. “I’ll even get you ice cream to make up for it,” He offers, crouching down in front of her. He pokes her cheek when she just sniffs again. “Come on, Princess. We haven’t had ice cream together for months,” He keeps poking until Leia sighs. She nods up at him. “Goodie. I’ll see you later, darlin’. Have a good day!” Leia turns and waves to him, smiling sadly.

Happy takes Harley back to the tower.

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

“Did she get off okay?” Tony asks when Harley walks into his lab. Peter is still asleep, laying on his front on the sofa at the side of the room. DUM-E is hovering around him, squeaking in a way that Harley suspects is nervous.

“Yeah,” Tony pushes Harley’s hands away when he starts fiddling with the tech Tony is trying to fix. “She was a little sad, but she wasn’t any trouble,”

“She never is,”

“What about him?” Harley nods his head across to Peter.

“He woke up just after you left,” Tony spins on his chair as he sighs. “I gave him one piece of toast. He had two bites of it, threw it up immediately, and went back to sleep,” Harley wrinkles his nose.

“Have you told May yet?”

“Yeah,” Tony laughs humourlessly. “She said she was getting on the next plane out. I managed to convince her that he’d be fine. There’s plenty of us here to babysit him,”

“He’d kill you if he knew you called it babysitting-”Harley is cut off by Tony’s phone ringing. He sighs when he picks it up.

“Good morning, Mrs Potts,” He smiles into the phone. As Pepper talks on the other end, his smile begins to drop. “Do you remember, years ago, when I signed the company over to you? That was so I didn’t have to deal with people like that. Yes, I know that but-” He huffs, scratching his cheek. “Pep, come on, I- fine, I’ll be up in a few minutes,”

“What’s up?” Harley looks up from where he’s started pulling apart one of Tony’s old suit’s missile launchers when the man throws his phone down on the workbench.

“Some company want me to be involved with the trade. God, conference calls are the worst,” He complains. He fiddles about with some stuff on his bench for a few minutes, trying to put leaving for as long as he can. He only gets a minute before FRIDAY sets off an alarm. “Jesus, fine, I’m going!” He curses, dragging his feet over to the door. “Will you be okay with Pete until I come back?”

“As long as you’re back in time for me to go and get Leia,” Harley answers without looking up.

“I should be,” Tony nods. “If I’m not, just tell FRIDAY to get Sam to cover or something.”

“Sure thing, old man. Enjoy your meeting,” He waves a hand over his shoulder, still pulling parts off the launcher.

“Conference call.” Tony corrects miserably.

“Whatever, Tony. Goodbye,”

“You’re a little shit, Keener,” The door slams behind him.

Harley stays in the lab for another two hours before Peter wakes up again, a loud groan letting Harley know.

“How you doing, sweetheart?” He asks, crouching down in front of him and pushing the hair out of his face. Peter just groans louder. “Understood.” Harley nods. “Do you think you could keep down some soup?”

When Peter doesn’t answer any more than blinking at Harley, the older boy picks him up and carries him out of the lab and up to their floor. Peter falls asleep again on the way up and Harley lets him be as he makes the soup. He follows his Ma’s recipe, one that she used to make in bulk that would feed them for a week. He knows Peter loves the soup, enough so that last time he was down in Rose Hill he begged Harley’s Ma for the recipe.

“Come on, babe,” Harley sets a bowl of soup down on the table and pokes Peter’s side. His eyes open slowly. “Come on, sit up for me,” Peter just groans and tries to roll over. Harley sighs. “Pete, come on, you gotta eat something. You love Ma’s soup,” Harley put his hand on Peter’s shoulder to block the turn, so Peter just pulls the blanket up and over his face. Harley pulls it back down with a sigh. “Peter Benjamin, I will force it down your throat,” Harley looks up when he hears a laugh.

“Having fun?” Harley narrows his eyes at Tony.

“You do it then,” He says, standing up and moving out of the way. “If this is so funny,” Tony rolls his eyes and moves over to the couch. Peter takes one look at Tony and pulls the blanket back up over his face. Tony sighs and yanks the blanket away completely.

“Up we get,” He says, slipping his hands under Peter’s armpits and lifting him up. Peter groans again, glaring weekly up at Tony.

“Not cool, Mr Stark,” He mumbles, voice raw. Tony smiles and sits down on the table. He holds the bowl in one hand and lifts a spoon up to Peter’s mouth with the other. The teenager clamps his lips shut and turns his head away. “Don’t wanna,”

“You want me to call Aunt May again? I’ll tell her that she doesactually need to come back early from her super fun trip to Italy because her seventeen-year-old kid is being a baby,” Peter glares again. Tony knows that, realistically, if he called her and did say that Peter was being a pain, May would be on a plane back in a heartbeat. He also knows, though, that she wouldn’t leave Peter’s side until he was better again, and yes, okay, maybe he and Harley have been doing that since he got home yesterday, but they’re not being as overbearing as May would be. He loves the woman, but she hasn’t seen Peter sick since he was a kid and would likely treat him the same way as she did back then.

Peter whimpers when Tony holds the spoon back up to his mouth.

“Don’t wanna be sick again,” He mumbles, wet eyes blinking up at the man. Tony sighs softly.

“I know, kiddo. But you haven’t eaten for almost a day, and with your metabolism I can’t imagine that feels great. You need nutrients, Pete, so it’s Mrs Keeners soup, or an IV line. It’s your choice,” He holds the spoon up again. Peter doesn’t open his mouth, so Tony rolls his eyes and turns to Harley. “Go and get Bruce, would you?”

“No!” Peter’s voice cracks. “No needles. I’ll have the soup, please don’t get the needles,” Tony nods smugly as he holds the soup up again, smiling when Peter opens his mouth.

He finishes half the bowl before he starts moving his head away again. “Noooo,” He groans.

“Are you sure you can’t handle two more spoons for me, Pete?” Tony sighs when Peter shakes his head quickly.

“Please don’t make me,” He puts the bowl down on the table again and moves to sit next to Peter. “Don’t wanna be sick,” He repeats. Harley settles on Peter’s other side, sitting on the arm of the couch. Tony cups Peter’s cheek with his hand, brushing his thumb over the cheek bone.

“That’s okay, kid. You did good,” Peter beams up at Tony and rests his head on his shoulder. “Think you should stay awake for a bit though,”

“But I’m tired, Dad,” Peter whines. Harley snorts.

“You’re such a baby when you’re sick, Pete,” Peter frowns and glares at Harley half-heartedly.

“Don’t be mean, Harley,” Peter smiles at Tony, who just smirks. “You can’t bully babies.”

“Betrayal! I’m being-” Peter is cut off when he begins coughing. Tony pats his back until he stops, frowning. “’m so tired,”

“I know, baby,” Tony coos. “Just try and stay awake for me. Two hours, and then you can nap. I’ll even watch that show you’ve been pestering about me watching with you,” He bargains. Peter looks up hopefully.

“What show is this?”

“Manhattan 3-3,”

“Brooklyn 99,” Peter corrects as he rolls his eyes, burrowing into Tony’s side. Harley gasps dramatically.

“You haven’t seen Brooklyn 99?” He asks incredulously. “This is terrible. We have to fix this.” He smiles when Peter nods.

They get through four and a half episodes before Peter stands up suddenly. Tony barely has time to ask if he’s okay before Peter runs towards the bathroom. He follows close behind, sitting on the edge of the bath, rubbing Peter’s back.

“Peter, buddy,” He starts slowly, keeping his hands moving, trying to comfort him. “I’d really feel better if you let me set you up with an IV,” Peter whimpers softly. “I know, I know, babe. But you haven’t kept anything down today and it can’t be good for you. You can’t starve yourself because then you’ll never get better,”

“Okay,” Peter’s voice is barley a whisper, but Tony still hears it. The kid reaches around blindly on the sink from where he’s still bent over the toilet until he grabs a toothbrush. Tony hands him the toothpaste to go with it.

“Thank you, kid. Who would you feel most comfortable doing it? I think Bruce, Steve, and Sam are the only ones here at the moment who can do it,” Peter spits into the bowl.

“Can’t you do it?” Tony shakes his head apologetically.

“I don’t have the training to do it properly, bucko. Otherwise, I probably would have done it last night. You want me to choose?”

“No,” Peter moans around the toothbrush in his mouth. “I- Sam. Please,”

“Okay bud,” Peter feels Tony lifting him and is vaguely aware of him asking FRIDAY something, but he’s just drifting in the safety of Tony’s arms. He doesn’t realise he’s fallen asleep again until there is someone shaking his shoulder. He blinks his eyes open.

“Hey, pipsqueak,” Sam’s voice is gentle in a way Peter has never heard before. “Can you roll onto your back for me? That’s it,” Peter doesn’t flinch when cold gloved hands turn his arm over, so his hand is palm up. He doesn’t even flinch when Sam reaches for the needle, just closes his eyes and whimpers slightly. “Deep breath for me, kiddo,” Peter whimpers again. The tears start to fall the minute the needle is in his arm. Harley squeezes his hand.

“You’re okay, darlin’. You’ll feel better when you’ve got some nutrients and stuff in your body,” Peter sobs loudly when Sam finishes with the IV.

“Hurts,” He whispers, looking up at Harley. Sam places a hand on his shoulder.

“You did great, bud. You’re okay. You can go back to sleep now,” Peter whimpers when Sam’s hand moves up to his hair.

“No,” He moans, bringing his hands up to try and push Sam’s away. “No, I don’t…don’t wan...”

“That really works, huh?” Harley asks, looking at where Peter was now soundly asleep. Tony smiles down at him fondly.

“Every time,” Sam snorts as he stands up. He peels his gloves off and packs up his kit.

“I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything, Tony, give us a call, yeah?” Tony nods, not looking at Sam.

“Yeah. Thank you,”

“No problem. Good to see you again, Keener,”

“You too, Bird boy.” Harley grins as Sam rolls his eyes before the lift doors close in front of him. He glances down at his phone before standing up. “I told Leia I’d take her for ice cream. Do you want any?”

“Nah,” Tony doesn’t look up from Peter as he speaks. “Stay safe,”

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

Harley isn’t offended when Leia looks disappointed to see him picking her up. She stays quiet while Harley talks to the teacher, playing with the ends of his hair.

“Right!” He says when the teacher finishes talking to him and goes to a few parents. “You ready to go?”

“Where’s Daddy?” Leia asks, pouting slightly.

“Daddy’s still sick, sweetums. But I promised someone ice cream. Uncle Tony said he didn’t want any, but he’ll expect us to get him some anyway, because he’s a spoiled brat. And we can get some for Daddy too, for when he’s feeling better. He likes ice cream, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah,” She nods. “He likes having all the tops,”

“Of course, he does,” He mumbles under his breath, before grinning at Leia. “Let’s go, then, sweetie pie,”

When they get to the ice cream parlour, he lets Leia choose Peter’s ice cream. She goes for the chocolate one and insists that the server puts every single topping they have available in the tub with it. She chooses cake batter for herself and demands that Harley gets the bright blue bubble-gum flavour. Harley chooses for Pepper and Tony, getting them mint and hazelnut. Harley carries most of the ice cream while they walk back to the tower, Leia still on his hip, happily eating her ice cream while talking to Harley, occasionally holding the spoon out for him to have a bite.

He walks her through to the kitchen when they get back to the tower, putting Peter’s and Pepper’s ice cream into the freezer.

“Oi!” Tony calls through from the living room. “Where’s my ice cream, Keener?”

“You said you didn’t want any,” Harley calls back through, winking at Leia. She giggles from where she’s sat on the counter, holding Tony’s pot of ice cream.

“So you didn’t get me any?” Harley laughs as he lifts Leia up and sets her on the floor. He pats her shoulder, and she runs off towards Tony, Harley following behind. “Thank you, babe. At least someone loves me,”

“Harls told me you said you didn’t want any, but we got you some anyway ‘cause you’re spoiled,” She climbs up into Tony’s lap as he gasps dramatically.

“Harley Keener, calling me spoiled? Do you think he’s ever looked in a mirror, Leia?” Leia giggles. Tony rearranges her slightly so she’s sitting sideways on his lap, facing Peter.

“Daddy still napping?” Tony nods. “Wha’s that?” She points to the IV bag.

“You know how you eat food because there are lots of good things in food that help your body?” Harley asks her. “Well, because Daddy is asleep, he can’t eat, so this is giving his all the goodness from the food while he naps,”

“Oh.” She nods once, before turning to face Tony. “We got him ice cream for when he wakes up,” She informs him, smiling.

“With all the toppings?” She nods proudly. “That’s very nice of you, sweetie. I’m sure he’ll love it,”

“Right then, munchkin. What do you and Daddy normally do on Tuesdays?” Harley asks, smiling when Leia looks up to the ceiling as she thinks.

“Daddy does his homework and then we play legos,”

“Well, then.” Harley says standing up. “I’ll go and get the legos,”

“Not the small ones!”

“Yes, thank you, Tony, but I’m not an idiot,” Harley comes back into the room dragging a large tub of legos behind him, with Bearbear sitting on the top. Leia picks him up as Harley places the box in front of her and Tony. “Thought we could make Bearbear a spaceship,”

“So he can go zoomin’ around the stars?” Leia asks excitedly. She slides off Tony knees and sits next to Harley.

Tony helps them draw out a plan for their ship, telling Leia that if she’s going to build things like Daddy does, she’s got to draw proper designs, so she doesn’t end up making things explode like he does. Harley is only mildly concerned when she makes a disappointed noise at the prospect of not making things explode.

Tony has just taken Leia into the kitchen to get a drink when Peter starts the thrash around. He kicks his legs, the blanket twisting between his legs.

“You okay, honey?” Harley asks, standing up and untangling the blanket, draping it over the back of the couch.

“Hot,” Peter moans, still kicking his legs, managing to kick his sweats off. They fall to the floor. The IV comes out of his arm when he pulls the t-shirt over his head, throwing that to the floor as well. He sighs in relief and is still for a few seconds before his face scrunches up. He rolls off the couch and lands on the floor.

“Jesus, Pete,” Harley moans. “You’re gonna hurt yourself if you just throw yourself on to the floor,” Tony laughs as he comes into the room, seeing Peter lying face down on the floor in just his underwear.

“Alright down there, underoos?” He asks, kicking Peter’s hip gently as he steps over him. His voice is muffled when he replies.

“’m so good.”

[thelarriefics]

ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP FICS: Below you’ll find fics that have Harry and Louis already in a relationship, whether it be a stand alone fic or a continuation in a series. 

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With seven years of blissful marriage behind them and four wonderfully unique kids to brag about, Harry and Louis seem to finally have life all figured out and under control. How much more real could it get?

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an Edwardian AU where Harry is a young aristocratic lord and Louis is a working class dairy farmer. Secrets are a necessary part of their relationship, but Louis has one that could topple their whole world.

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📖 You Put Your Arms Around Me And I’m Home. by @rainbowsandlovehl (38k)

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📖 To have and to hold by @sweariwouldnt (15k)

Harry has a habit of planning their wedding when he feels down. It’s not ideal, really. 

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📖 You Came Along And Moved Me, Honey by @lesbianiconharrystyles (8k)

In which Louis thinks Harry’s hiding a life of crime and Harry just really likes candles.

📖 caught up in your love affair by @disgruntledkittenface (8k)

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📖 Olivia by @haloeverlasting (7k)

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📖 Purrfect by @louiesunshine (7k)

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📖 Gotta Have You by @styleandsin (6k)

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📖 Finally Their Time by @lightwoodsmagic (4k)

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📖 to be a king beside you somehow by @nauticalleeds (4k)

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📖 when you say you love me, know i love you more by @jimmytfallon (2k)

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📖 On the edge of the next nine years by @forreveries (2k)

In which Harry and Louis come out at the Met Gala.

[captainillogical]

Devil’s Ballroom Ch.7

A year after the events from the earth’s final attack, Little Homeworld is finally complete, and there’s a new jazz bar where gems and humans mingle and drink. - As you’re typing back a reply, someone pulls the stool out next to you and takes a seat. You see a sliver of pink out of the corner of your eye as you try not to actually Look. Oh god. It’s her. God can’t help us now.

Spinel/Reader

collab with my lovely wife @firstofficertightpants​

ya’ll im sorry lmao

You spend the rest of your evening doing exactly none of the errands that you needed to deal with today. Instead, you're laying on your couch and texting your friends.

         Y/N: I'm so tornnnn.

     Y/N: Do I say something about the cheek smooch?

     Y/N: Should I leave it be?

     Y/N: Because she's texting like nothing happened.

     Y/N: What if I'm reading too much into it??

     Y/N: What if that's just how she shows friendship affection???

     Y/N: I might make it so fucking awkward if I assume something!

     Y/N: This entire ordeal is mortifying!!!

     Y/N: I want nothing more than to dig a big hole and lie in it forever.

     Y/N: I might be low-key having a panic attack about this rn but what's new.

     Harper: Y/N. chill. you're way overreacting to this.

     Harper: even if it meant nothing, she still likes you as a friend right?

     Harper: i think it would take a lot for her to like.. not wanna stay friends lol.

     Alex: im just saying you could probably kiss her and she'd be ok with it

     Alex: cheek kisses are pretty forward

     Harper: don't listen to him. all of his relationships ended in failure.

     Alex: wow

     Alex: im seriously hurt

     Harper: am I wrong?

     Alex: no..

     Harper: my point exactly.

     Harper: i’m not saying you have nothing to lose or anything.

     Harper: because i myself had to tread very carefully with leah..

     Harper: but i think you should just see where it goes and not like

     Harper: put too much emphasis on this incase it was nothing.

     Y/N: Yeah see now you have me worried it WAS nothing!!

     Alex: oh my goooooooddddddddddddddd

     Alex: the both of you approach women so.. pathetically

     Alex: take a risk

     Alex: live a little

     Alex: what is seriously the worst that could happen

     Alex: she kills you??

     Alex: lmao

     Alex: its funny cuz of.. you know

     Harper: i can’t wait to be home and smothering him with a pillow instead of affection.

     Y/N: You and me both.

     Y/N: Try being the only one available to play games with him.

     Alex: both of you fucking love me okay

     Alex: alsooooooo i get to be home the day after tomorrow

     Alex: the alex is back, babieeeeee

     Y/N: Harper please come home I’m BEGGING you.

     Harper: sorry you gotta deal with him alone for another month lmao.

     Y/N: Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

     Alex: can i get a fucking crumb of love here please

         You swipe over to the couple of messages Spinel has left you in the past couple of minutes while you were talking to your friends.

         Spinel: It’s another stupid ball, I just found out.

     Spinel: I told her that I’m sitting this one out this time.

     Spinel: She has so many others that would absolutely love to help her, and yet, still absolutely insists that I must be there.

     Spinel: I don’t want to go back to homeworld right now, and not for this.

     Y/N: And you put your foot down? Hell yeah, dude.

     Y/N: Planning a ball for a bunch of gems sounds like a chore anyway.

     Spinel: oh, it is, believe me.

     Spinel: And they need everything to be PERFECT.

     Spinel: Which isn’t realistic anymore now that they don’t expect any of the gems to stay in line with their gem class nowadays.

     Spinel: The last ball they threw almost 4 months ago was utterly chaotic.

     Y/N: For thousands of years y'all as a race never pushed to deviate from the norm, and now that you guys are allowed to? I’d go batshit with it too.

     Y/N: Being stifled in everyday life, and finally you’re free?

     Y/N: Fuck, I’d go around fusing with anyone!

     Spinel: That is precisely what too many of them did.

     Y/N: Lmao. I wish I could’ve seen that.

         You tab back over to your group chat for a moment to see what they’re talking about.

         Harper: see? they’re everywhere.

     Harper: i wasn’t expecting the campsite to have so many.

     Alex: you could have built an army and instead you took pictures

     Alex: do you know how easy it is to lure chipmunks?

     Alex: oh that lil guy on the bottom right is so fucking chunky i love him

     Harper: that’s the one that got the closest when i fed them. :3

     Alex: oh i fuckin BET

     Alex: you dont get that chubby in the wild without takin a few risks

     Alex: if u know what i mean ;)

     Harper: i hate whatever you just implied.

     Y/N: It’s not a conversation with Alex unless you roll your eyes at least 3 times.

     Alex: hey i thought it was 4 times

     Alex: dont insult me

     Alex: anyway, y/n

     Alex: are you workin the day i come back

     Y/N: Yeah I’m actually scheduled a double.

     Alex: scheduled

     Y/N: Yes.

     Alex: a double

     Y/N: Yes.

     Alex: he can’t SCHEDULE you a DOUBLE

     Y/N: He can if he asks me ahead of time as a favor.

     Alex: that fuckin bastard

     Alex: always ruining my plans

     Harper: you’re still mad at him for firing you last summer, huh.

     Alex: OF COURSE I AM

     Y/N: Bro you stole like $300 of cotton candy sugar that summer.

     Y/N: It’s only fair.

     Y/N: Besides, I’m only doing this because he said he’d give me a long weekend for it.

     Alex: kay well

     Alex: i guess i’ll just go bug you at work and wait for you to get off that day :'(

     Y/N: Get me written up again, I swear to god.

         Your phone chimes several times, and you swipe down to see messages from both Spinel and Steven. You check Spinel's first.

         Spinel: Do me a favor and ignore any messages Steven has sent you.

     Y/N: What are you, my boss?

     Spinel: I MEAN IT

         You quickly switch over to Steven's texts.

         Steven: I was going to ask you if your date with Spinel went okay, but I'm assuming it went fine considering she hasn't really stopped talking about you.

         Ohhhh my god, this is wild. You reply to him.

         Y/N: It wasn't a date as far as I know.

     Y/N: I had fun.

     Y/N: She's telling me to not read your messages, lmao.

     Y/N: Also what do you mean she hasn't stopped talking about me??

     Steven: She’s been lying on my floor for the last hour basically gushing about you.

     Steven: But you didn’t hear that from me!

     Steven: :D

     Y/N: Haha thanks, kid.

         You switch back over to text Spinel, and get up off the couch to make yourself some tea. Pulling out your kettle, you turn the stove on and grab some raspberry flavored abomination tea bag that your dad loves more than any of the other good tea flavors.

         Y/N: Sooooo.

     Spinel: You talked to him, didn’t you.

     Y/N: Hahaha noooo. :)

     Spinel: The fuck did he say?

     Y/N: Absolutely nothing.

     Spinel: Seriously? I was sure he’d reveal something embarrassing.

     Y/N: Nope! You should probably get off his floor eventually, though.

         Your kettle goes off and you grab a clean mug, and pour the boiling water into it along with the tea packet. You look down at your phone, and grin.

         Spinel: goddammit.

         You let the bag steep for a little bit, and add in a small amount of sugar. Walking up to your bedroom you take a snap of Jellybean half lounging, half falling off the stairs and send it to Spinel. She replies with a couple heart emojis, and you wonder if Steven was the one to show her the proper use of them. You set your cup of tea down on your desk, and turn your computer on. It’s evening now, and it’s much too late to do anything left with the rest of your day productivity-wise, so you settle in on playing more minecraft. Your thoughts wander quite a bit, and you find yourself stuck on thinking about Spinel. Naturally. You wonder about a lot of things she’s learned while staying on earth, from things like - does she pay rent? Does she have a job? Does she know what taxes are? Does she know what a relationship with a human looks like? She said she watched a movie, but didn’t exactly elaborate. You don’t know what human-norms she’s been exposed to. You can’t even concentrate enough to mine any of this redstone for Alex, and you nearly die in-game when the thought of ‘does she know what sex is?’ pops into your mind. You grab your phone and shoot Spinel another message.

         Y/N: Quick question.

     Y/N: If you don’t mind me asking.

         It takes her a few minutes to reply.

         Spinel: Sure?

     Y/N: Do you know how humans are made?

     Spinel: w

     Spinel: Yes?

     Spinel: Steven told me about it a few weeks ago actually.

     Spinel: Why are you asking?

     Y/N: No reason! Just curious is all.

     Spinel: Hm.

         Yeah you’re not too confident that she actually knows, and you’re too chickenshit to elaborate right now. You’ll enlighten her later. You spend the rest of the night browsing memes on your phone, and texting your friends and Spinel on occasion. Before you know it, your eyes drift close with your phone in hand.

     You wake up when your alarm goes off for your morning shift, and curse at yourself for not charging it last night. It’s at a solid 32%, which isn’t really enough to go about your day, but you’ll have to make do. You get ready for a hopefully not shitty day, lock up the house, and head in to work.

     It’s a complete shitshow when you come in, and you turn your phone off to save battery and concentrate on dealing with more than an average amount of tourists. You find Mr. Smiley sleeping in the breakroom/office/supply closet, and have half a mind to lock him in there from the outside for the rest of your shift. It’s pretty busy, and messy, and it isn’t until you’re there for several exhausting hours that you finally have enough time for a break. You turn your phone on, and instantly you’re flooded with messages from several different people. Ugh.

           A couple from your dad - just checking in, really. Group chat too as usual, but none of it seems overly important. One from Spinel, and several from Steven. You open up Spinel’s message first.

         Spinel: Do you think we could talk about a couple of things later?

         Vague, and a little concerning. You text back an apology for getting back to her so late, and open the messages from Steven.

         Steven: Hey are you busy?

     Steven: I’m dealing with a bit of a situation right now, and could use your help.

     Steven: Spinel locked herself in my bathroom, and she won’t come out.

     Steven: She refuses to answer to anyone, and several of us have tried.

     Steven: I’m just really worried about her, and you guys seemed to bond, so I was hoping..

     Steven: That maybe you could come over?

     Steven: Thanks regardless.

         You check the timestamp, and that was over an hour ago. Jesus christ.

         Y/N: Steven I’m so sorry, my phone was off and I’m at work, give me a few and I’ll be right over, okay?

     Y/N: I’ll be quick.

         He replies almost immediately with a “please” and you pocket your phone. You try not to worry too hard about Spinel as you rush over to grab your things, and knock on Mr. Smiley’s office/broom closet door. He opens it groggily, clearly just waking up.

     “Yeah?” he slowly blinks at you.

     “I gotta leave early. Emergency.” You stare at him, trying to not be pissed at his lack of work ethic.

     “Are you for real? You’ve got another 3 hours left.” He says and crosses his arms, and you glare at him.

     “I’ve been working my ass off while you’ve been sleeping this whole time, AND I’m covering your ass tomorrow so you can go meet your old friend! So the LEAST you can do is let me go early when I have an emergency!!!” You almost yell out at him, and he holds his hands up in defense.

     “Okay, okay! Fine. Only because you’re a good worker.” He says, and has the gall to look at least a little ashamed of himself.

     “Damn right I am.” You spin around and head out of the building, practically running.

     You almost trip and bite it several times on the way over to Steven’s place, but you’re more worried about Spinel. You’ve only been to his place twice, but once you’re there you run up the stairs and open the door without knocking. You’re greeted by the only two people in the living room, Pearl, and Steven.

         “Oh, she’s here!” Pearl says and nudges Steven, who looks up from typing on his phone.

     “Y/N! Thank god you’re here.” He says with furrowed eyebrows.

     “What happened?” You say and shut the door, and cross the room over to him.

     “I’m not sure! We were just working on something together for Amethyst, and she got a call from Blue and Yellow. She’s been ignoring them lately, and they’ve been bothering me in turn because of that, so I asked her to take the call just see what they want.” He runs his hand through his brown curls, and just for a moment, you see that 12 year old him in again. The obvious stress masks just how young he really is, and you feel bad that he can’t live life like a normal kid. “She went outside to take the call, and was out there for quite a while. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but I did hear some yelling. And just when I was going over to make sure they were alright, she comes back in tears, eyes spiraling like months ago, and nearly knocks Pearl over rushing into the bathroom.”

     “And nothing since?” You inquire, fidgeting with your hands.

     “No,” He says, frustratedly. “I’ve been trying to reach the diamonds to see what this is all about, but I’ve only been getting the pearls. I don’t know what to do. She hasn’t been like this in months. What were they talking about to make her this upset?”

     “Maybe I can find out. You said she’s in your bathroom?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

     “Yeah, the one right over here.” He says and points to it.

     “Is it locked?” You ask.

     “No,” Pearl glances towards the bathroom door and crosses her arms. “The lock has been broken on it for a while, since Peridot joined us actually. Both Garnet and I tried opening it, but I think once Spinel hears someone trying to come in she blocks the door.”

     Hm.

     “I’m gonna try something, but you guys are gonna wanna stay away.” You say to the two of them. “I don’t want to overwhelm her with more than one person.”

     “Let us know if we can do anything?” Steven makes to pass by you and gives your arm a light squeeze. “And thanks for coming to help.”

     “Anytime, dude.” You give him a half smile, and walk over to his bathroom. You turn to take a look back at the other two, and they’re already in the kitchen discussing something in soft tones. You move to knock at the door, make two light taps against the frame, and wait for an answer.

     A couple seconds pass, and nothing. Not even any movement. Nervously, you knock again, a little louder this time, and wait for a good ten seconds.

     Still nothing.

     You take a deep breath, reach out to grab the door handle, and very slowly and quietly open the bathroom door. You see nothing but absolute darkness, and step in. You feel around the wall to your right and flip a switch just as you close the door behind you with an audible click. The room instantly floods with the dark red light of the heat lamp, and before you can even think about finding another light source, you find yourself slammed up against the wall and let out a surprised yelp. You open your eyes to see Spinel’s face inches from yours, pupils wild, her hands splayed against your shoulders.

     “U-um,” Your voice cracks a little. “Hey.”

     You watch her eyes take a second to find yours, and almost instantly, she lets you go, arms trembling.

     “W.. what are YOU DOING HERE!?” She cries, large tears pouring down her face, eyebrows raised in confusion, mouth trembling. Her hair is in loose pigtails, strands untamed around her face, cheeks stained with tear tracks. She looks like a mess, and your heart breaks, just a little. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt y-”

     “I’m fine.” You cut her off. “I should have said who it was outside the door, I’m sorry. And um.. Steven texted me while I was at work, and told me what was going on so I rushed over..” You trail off as you watch Spinel’s entire body shake, and she covers her face with both of her hands.

     “I can’t believe I just did that.” You hear her wavering voice, muffled behind her fists, and she lets out a choked sob. “Maybe they were right. M-maybe I’m not meant to-” She quickly moves her hands down to look at the floor with wide, vulnerable eyes, and struggles to form the rest of her words. You hear her breathing pick up pace, and you’re starting to realize she’s hyperventilating.

     “Spinel, look at me.” Her eyes shoot up to yours, lips trembling. “I need you to breathe.” You do what your friends have always done with you, and gently grab both of her hands and hold them with yours, thumbs stroking her palms in slow circles. She freezes up instantly, and you’re about to panic, because while a familiar touch helps ground you, you register that maybe it’ll make it worse for her. But before you can pull your hands away, her hands relax ever so slightly, and she lets out a shaky breath. “Good. Just like that.” You motion for her to follow your breathing inverals, and she copies you, hands still shaking in yours.

     It’s been a while since you’ve had to deal with something like this, but you’re thankful for having similar life experiences. After a solid minute or two of this her breathing is back to a normal pace, but she’s still crying, and now not meeting your eyes. Almost like she’s avoiding them.

     “Look, I.. I don’t know what happened with you and the diamonds, but you can talk to me about it if you’d like. No pressure, though.” You give her hands a small squeeze, and she whimpers, looking up to meet your gaze. Tears are still actively streaming down her face, and you have no idea how to make any of this better. It physically hurts you to see her like this.

     “C-can I not talk about it? I don’t think I’m ready..” She pulls a hand from yours, and wipes at her face. She just kind of smeared half of her face with wetness, and she looks miserable.

     “You don’t have to talk about anything, Spinel.” You look at her, making sure she sees it in your eyes. You slowly let go of her other hand, and hold your arms out in a silent question instead. Her mouth opens slightly, the red glow of the light around her making her look extremely vulnerable and soft, and she looks at your open arms with a blank face for a moment before understanding. Almost instantaneously, she throws herself against you and wraps her arms around your shoulders, shoving her face into the cradle of your neck. You envelop your arms around her tightly, giving her sides a squeeze, and you feel her start to shake again.

     She lets out an unsteady sigh, and hiccups out another small sob. You pull her to lean fully against you as you stand there, bracing your back against the bathroom door. She lets you maneuver her, and you rest the side of your face against her temple while she cries. You resign yourself to letting her cry on you until she’s done, if she needs to.

       You feel her sniffle against your neck, and try not to mind that she’s getting your shirt soaked. You give her back a few gentle rubs, feeling her body quiver against yours as she’s trying to control her choked breathing. You’re not really counting the minutes, as right now you’re currently having way too many rampant thoughts about what the fuck the diamonds could’ve said to her. You’re mad as hell, honestly, and if you could say shit to them, you would in a heartbeat. You don’t want to make anything worse for her though, as much as you want to steal her phone and video call them to curse them out. It takes a few more minutes, but eventually her crying dies down, and you feel her breathing even out. Slowly, she dislodges her arms from twisting around you two, and you feel a sigh, her breath hot against your neck. You do your best to school your facial expression as you’re realize just how close you are to her, and she pulls her face from its resting position to look at you. She looks awful.

       “U-um,” She lifts up her hand to attempt to wipe her face, failing to rub half the tears away. “I don’t really want to go out there yet..”

       “You don’t have to.” You say, quietly. “I can leave if you’d like some quiet to yourself.” Her face looks panicked for a second, and she grabs your wrist.

       “Please don’t leave me.” She says, voice wavering again. You try not to let your heart shatter at her tone.

     “I won’t if you want me here.” You say, and sigh softly. “Here, hold on a second.”

     She lets your wrist go as you move slightly over to the sink, turn the hot water on, and grab a clean hand towel from the counter. You soak it in water, and squeeze out all the excess. Towel in hand, you turn back to her, and she’s looking at you cautiously. You lift the towel slightly, motioning to her face.

     “May I?” You ask, and she nods slightly.

     Tenderly, you brush a couple strands of hair away from her face, grasp her chin with your left hand and pull her forward, gently pressing the towel to her cheek. She closes her eyes, and her shoulders sag a little as she lets you dab at her face, cleaning her of any tear stain marks. She sighs into your touch, and it strikes you that it would be so easy to just.. lean in and kiss her.

       Your brain almost short circuits and you snap your thoughts back to reality. There’s a time and place for everything. This is not the time, nor the place.

       Once you’re satisfied that she looks a lot better than before, you pull your hands away to toss the rag in the sink, and Spinel, for a brief moment, looks disappointed that you had stopped. Which.. kind of gives you an idea.

       “Can I try something? Harper used to do this thing with me when I.. had similar breakdowns.” You ask her. She raises her eyebrow in response, clearly exhausted from crying so much. “Here.” You say, and take her hand and lead her over to the rim of the bathtub. You sit down on the edge, and motion for her to sit in front of you on the floor. She takes a seat in front of you, still confused, but obeys nonetheless. “Can I touch you?” You ask her, watching her face to make sure she’s alright.

       She looks up at you, the red light in the room flooding the entirety of her face, making her hair darker, and the whites of her eyes a bit more dramatic.

     “Yeah.” She says in reply, voice tired.

     You reach out to her hair, and stop for a moment.

     “Can I have you face the other direction, actually? Come over here.” You move to open your knees, making enough room for Spinel to turn around and lean against the bathtub. She’s close to you again.

     “What are you..” She trails off as you start to take the hair ties out of her pigtails, one after the other. It takes a second, as it’s a bit tangled, but you manage to get both out, and let her hair fall down. You comb out her hair with your fingers, gently, and she sighs audibly while leaning into your touch. You run your short nails along her scalp, scratching and massaging as you smooth out her hair, attempting to pull all the tangles out.

     “Touch used to calm me down, and Harper was really good at it, honestly.” You say while pulling out a particularly difficult tangle without hurting her. Her hair is long like this, and you like it. You wish you could grow your hair this long, but it’s kind of a pain to deal with, and the longest you’ve ever had yours wasn’t even to your mid back, you think to yourself. “Sometimes she’d give me shoulder and neck massages, but I preferred that she’d just play with my hair. There’s just something different about another person touching your hair.”

     “I kind of get what you mean.” She says, tiredly.

     “Can I braid your hair?” You lean closer to look at her face.

     “Do what you want.” She says, looking fairly relaxed.

     “Cool. Anyway, while Harper was good at that, Alex, on the other hand, was just terrible at any kind of physical comfort. He’s genuine, and he tries, but he’s an idiot. He’s a lot better at distractions, for the most part.” You run your fingers through her hair one more time, before starting to separate her hair into three parts for a french braid. “He’s funny, and comes from a large family, so he always has stories and jokes. Whenever I’d have a panic attack, those two were always so good about being there for me. I don’t know what I’d do without them.”

     You notice that Spinel‘s shoulders have lost most of the tension in them, and you’re secretly relieved. You keep talking to fill the quietness around you two, because you’ve always hated the quiet during moments like these. Your friends aren’t here, so it’s up to you to make up for it.

     “It was kind of hard, at first though,” You say, and start looping the chunks of hair around your fingers, starting at the top of her head. “Because for a while there, back when I was 16 and dealing with the worst of my abandonment issues, I clung onto Harper like a baby koala. I had this super weird crush on her even though we had been friends since we were practically babies. I think I idolized her because she was just.. good to me.” You accidentally tug a little too hard on a strand of hair, wince and utter an apology while massaging the spot on her scalp. “I’m glad that didn’t ruin our friendship, but for a while there I really pushed my feelings onto her, which was kinda fucked up on my part.”

     “Hm..” Spinel mumbles. “I kind of had a thing for Pink, I think. Which ended up screwing with me even more after what she did.” You stare at the back of her head and pause your hands for a second. Huh. Yeah, you had a hunch.

     “If she were still alive, I’d punch her in the face for you, I hope you know.” You state, in full seriousness. This gets the first chuckle that you’ve heard from her today, and you’re secretly overjoyed.

     “I’d pay to watch that.” She says, and you laugh out loud. You see her smile, just barely.

     “So,” You continue, with both your hands and conversation. “A week or so after my 17th birthday, right after Harper talked to me about this guy at school that she liked, I confess to her. And not like a, ‘oh hey, you’re my best friend and I really like you’ kind of way, either. It was more like a, ‘have a mental breakdown over your best friend liking someone else and make them feel like shit about it on your walk home from school’ kind of confession.” Your hands reach the nape of her neck now, braid mostly done on her head, but you’ve got around another 20 inches of length before being finished.

     “Harper avoided me for nearly a week after that. I was absolutely pathetic, and inconsolable. Alex was fed up with my shit after a few days, and nearly slapped me over it. He would’ve been in the right, doing so, honestly. I was a selfish asshole who only thought about her own feelings, and not about her best friends.” Your eyes drift to Spinel’s face, and her eyes are closed, eyebrows unfurrowed.

     “Anyway,” You’re nearly done with the entire braid now. “She did end up forgiving me. Thankfully. I don’t know what I’d do if it were my fault that I’d split up our friend group.” You pick up the discarded hair tie from earlier, and tie it around the end of the braid.

     “I’m all done, by the way.” You say to her. She opens her eyes tentatively, and she looks sleepy. You stand up, and stretch your back. She also gets up on wobbly legs, and turns to look at you.

     “Um.” She’s avoiding your eyes. “Thank you. For this.” She’s twisting her hands together, nervously. You lean your face closer to get at eye-level with her.

     “Anytime.. and for the record, you look really cute in a braid.” You say and smile, giving her a cheeky wink. You watch her entire face from the neck up turn bright red, and think that you could probably do this forever, and never get tired. She gives you a noncommittal grunt, halfheartedly smacks your arm and you grin at her.

     You hear a quiet knock at the door, and look over to Spinel. She shrugs, so I guess it’s okay now.

     “You can come in!” You say to the door. It opens slowly, and you see Steven peek his head in.

     “Um.. are we okay?” He asks, clearly very worried about her.

     “I’ll be okay.” She says, and you think that maybe she should lay down and sleep. You verbalize this immediately.

     “Spinel. I think you should go take a nap.” You look at her, and she blinks at you. “I’m serious.”

     “She’s kind of right.” Steven says in agreement with you. Spinel gives the both of you a shrug, and even that seems like it’s taking a lot out of her.

     “Okay.” She says, and turns to walk out of the bathroom. Steven opens the door wider, and you can see Pearl in the kitchen leaning against the counter, trying to not seem like she’s intently watching all of you.

     Spinel makes her way over to the couch and takes a seat, sitting up rigidly. You walk over to her to make sure she’s okay before you leave for home.

     “You know you can text me, right? And if you need me, I’ll be available. I’ll leave my volume turned on.” She gives you a nod. “Oh, and.. take this,” You say, and pull off the pullover hoodie you’re wearing right now, and hand it over to her. “Alex used to let me wear his oversized sweaters, and they used to help me sleep, so..”

     She tentatively reaches out, and takes it from your hands.

     “Thanks.” She says, and gives you a small smile. With her hair pulled back like this she almost looks human, for a fleeting moment. You sometimes forget she’s a gem. You return the smile back at her, and turn around to leave.

     After grabbing your bag that you set down earlier from beside the couch, you head over to the front door and open it. Shouldering the bag, you start to shut the door and see Steven behind you. He closes the door behind him, his face searching yours for something you don’t quite know.

     “I don’t know what you did, but thank you.” He says, completely genuine.

     “You don’t have to thank me. I’d do it for you, too, you know.” You say to him, and he smiles.

     “That’s why I like you, Y/N. You’re sweet.”

     “Yeahhhh, don’t tell anyone, though. You’ll ruin my reputation.” You smirk, giving him the side-eye. He laughs and pats your back.

     “Ohhhhhh no! Whatever will you do!?” He rolls his eyes in jest. “Get home safe, okay?”

     “No promises.” You reply, and jump down his steps, two at a time.  

     It doesn’t take you long to get home, and you’re pretty tired yourself. You make yourself busy by preparing dinner, cleaning the kitchen a little, and calling your dad for another check-in. Before you know it, it’s nearly 11, and you need to sleep for your double shift tomorrow that you almost forgot about. You’re laying in bed browsing social media before drifting off, and you receive a text from Spinel. You swipe down and open the message.

         Spinel: Thanks again for today.

     Spinel: I baked some new cookies with Steven, and would like to give you some tomorrow if that’s okay?

         You smile to yourself. Ughhhhhhhh, you’re catching the feelings disease, and you swat the air around you like it somehow physically manifested around you.

         Y/N: I work literally all day, but feel free to stop by and give them to me.

     Y/N: Then I get to see a pretty familiar face to break up all the lame tourists.

     Y/N: Cuz that sounds super nice. ;)

     Spinel: I’ll see you tomorrow, then.

         She didn’t react to your obvious teasing, but you won’t let that discourage you. You fall asleep thinking of the many different ways you can poke fun at her, and this time, you charge your phone.

     You wake up the next morning feeling well-rested for once, and get ready for work. Alex has sent you a couple texts about when his flight will arrive, and when he’ll roughly come to meet you. Sometime around 4pm, apparently. You shoot Spinel a good morning text, and she replies almost instantly with the same, which makes you smile.

     You head to work, texting your group chat about what happened yesterday with Spinel, and give them basically all the details. Alex makes fun of you for a bit, so you curse him out and pocket your phone as you clock in. Today’s going to suck, but you’ve got a few things to look forward to.

     You make it a couple hours into your shift before you finally get a break, and Spinel texts you that she’ll drop by sometime in the afternoon once she’s done helping Bismuth with something. God you hope it’s not when Alex gets here, because you are so not fucking ready for that interaction. You eat your lunch and pray to any god out there that you could have one more day of peace.

     You’re outside the main building repairing a couple parts on the carousel, ignoring the bulk of the tourists to focus on work. You don’t realize that quite a while has passed by, because someone walks up to you as you’ve got your head in a small door, and kicks you slightly on your ass. You jolt and bump your head against the opening, and you hear Alex burst out into laughter as you groan in pain.

     God fucking dammit, this guy. You pull your head out to glare at him, screwdriver pointing at him threateningly.

     “Do you want this up your ass? Because I can do that.” You say to him, and he laughs even harder. You roll your eyes at him.

     “Don’t promise me with a good time, Y/N.” He says, and you stand up to smack him.

     “I don’t think the pointy end would be a good time, idiot.” You deadpan stare at him. He grins.

     “You don’t know what I’m into.” He shrugs, and flips his hair dramatically. You hate that he’s stupid and charming, and you love him so much.

     “I know I haven’t seen you in 2 months, but like, I feel like you’ve grown taller?” You stare at him, a little mournfully. You’re the shortest one out of your friends, and you’re of average height. He also seems.. handsomer. You think he definitely got a lot more tan. He’s definitely grown into his looks, his dark curly hair and recently shaved face making him look older than you’re used to.

     “I don’t think I did, but I think you’ve grown shorter.” He laughs obnoxiously, and you smack his arm again, which makes him laugh harder.

     “You’re so mean to me, like all the time. Why do I love you?” You cross your arms and pout, because you know it gets a rise out of him.

     “Youuuuuuu knowww, because I’m just so loveable and gorgeous and the smartest one in the group??” He flutters his eyelashes at you like he thinks he’s cute.

     “Wow, you are none of these things.” You reply, smirking at him. He puts his hand over his heart in mock offense.

     “Y/N, I’m offended. I’ve been here for like, five minutes, and I’ve received absolutely no affection from you. If I don’t get love, I will wilt and die. Do you want to be responsible for my death?” He opens his arms wide, and you roll your eyes dramatically, and stand there.

     “We’re not doing this in public.” You say, standing your ground.

     “Ohhh, YES we are, Y/N.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Prepare yourself for the onslaught.”

     You take a couple steps back, prepared to run. He grabs your arms, wraps his around your torso, and picks you up, swinging you around.

     “Nooooooooooooooooo!!” You cry. “Put me down you oaf!”

     “No! I want love!” He all but shouts, and spins you around. He grabs your cheek with one hand and starts giving you big ‘ol smooches all over your face, and you’re giggling and trying to push him away, when you hear something drop and spill on the pavement a good twenty feet from you. You look up.

     It’s Spinel.

       Her face is twisted with heartbreak, and before you can even speak up, she bolts.

       You look down, and see the cookies she made you scattered on the ground.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Abandon All Hope: Final Part

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,911

Warnings: typical supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

“That's my girl, you're okay, honey,” Ellen whispered to her daughter as she held her.

Jo wasn’t looking too good, and you were trying everything you could not to break down here and now. You’ve been using your magic to heal the wound, and it’s been working, but her body has been drained of so much blood that even if the wound was closed, she wasn’t going to make it.

“Now we know where the devil's gonna be, we know when, and we have the Colt.”

“Yeah. We just have to get past eight or so hellhounds and get to the farm by midnight.”

“Yeah, and that's after we get Jo and Ellen the hell out of town.”

“It won’t be easy.”

“What about a stretcher? I can use my magic to conceal them from Meg or whoever looks at them,” you suggested.

“I'll see what we got,” Sam said, turning to leave when Jo stopped him.

“Stop. Guys, stop. Can we, uh, be realistic about this, please? I can't move my legs. I can't be moved. My guts are being held in by an ace bandage. We gotta—we gotta get our priorities straight here. Number one, I'm not going anywhere.”

“Joanna Beth, you stop talking like that,” Ellen choked up.

“Mom. I can't fight. I can't walk. But I can do something. We got propane, wiring, rock salt, iron nails, and everything else we need.”

“Everything we need?” you wondered.

“To build a bomb, Y/N.”

“No. Jo, no, that’s crazy!”

“You got another plan? You got any other plan? Those are hellhounds out there, Y/N. They've got all of our scents. Those bitches will never stop coming after you. We let the dogs in, you guys hit the roof, make a break for the building next over. I can wait here with my finger on the button, rip those mutts a new one. Or at least get you a few minutes' head start, anyway.”

“No, I—I won't let you,” Ellen cried.

“This is why we're here, right? If I can get us a shot on the devil—Dean, we have to take it.”

“No!” Ellen shouted, looking at Dean. “That’s not—”

“Mom, this might literally be your last chance to treat me like an adult. Might wanna take it?” she coughed.

Ellen starts sobbing, and you let tears fall from your eyes at the realization that Jo isn’t going to see tomorrow… and Ellen might not either.

“You heard her. Get to work,” Ellen sniffled.

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you and the Winchesters set out to make the bombs, filling them with nails and rock salt for shrapnel. All of those bombs took time, and it was night fall when you finished. Sam takes Jo’s hand while Dean strings the wire to the button she will hold.

“Okay, this is it. I'll see you on the other side. Probably sooner than later,” Dean chuckled humorlessly.

“Make it later,” she sighed.

Dean puts the button in Jo’s hand. She didn’t like this even though it was necessary for survival. He kissed her forehead meaningfully before pulling away. Ellen came back and took a seat next to her daughter. Mother and daughter stared at one another before Ellen smiled.

“Mom, no.”

“Somebody's gotta let them in. Like you said, you're not moving. You got me, Jo. And you're right, this is important. But I will not leave you here alone.”

“Ellen,” you got tears again.

“Get going now,” she sniffled.

“Ellen!”

“I said go,” she urged. The tears wouldn’t stop leaking from your eyes even as you forced yourself to walk away. “Dean? Kick it in the ass. Don’t miss.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded.

“I am so sorry,” you whispered.

Ellen got up, unchains the doors, sweeps away the salt line, opens the propane tanks, sits back down next to Jo, and hugs her. Dean forced you out the back door even though you didn’t want to. As you were climbing down the fire escape, you were sobbing quietly. Jo was your only good girl friend, and Ellen was like a maternal figure in your life. It was hard knowing you were leaving them in there to die. As soon as your feet touched the ground, you three began running down the alley. When you got far enough, the hardware store exploded, and you turned to watch it burn.

“JO!!” you screamed, but Dean covered your mouth before anyone else could hear.

“Come on,” he urged.

He had to force you to follow them before you could follow on your own. You kept your sobs quiet as you ran to the farm and through bushes. When you arrived at the scene, dozens of men stand in the field, their attention on something you couldn’t see.

“Guess we know what happened to some of the townspeople,” Dean noticed.

“Okay, last words?” Sam asked.

“I think I’m good,” Dean nodded.

“Yeah. Me too.”

“I love you both so much,” you blurted out, wiping away the dried tears.

“Here goes nothing,” Dean breathed heavily.

Sam got up and walked out in the open with a shot gun even though it wouldn’t do any good on the Devil. Dean took your hand and led you across the way to have a bit of surprise on him.

“Hey!” Sam yelled, approaching Lucifer. The devil turns and drops the shovel in his hands. “You wanted to see me?”

“Oh, Sam, you don't need that gun here. You know I'd never hurt you. Not really.”

“Yeah? Well, we’d hurt you,” Dean grinned, coming out in the open.

You trailed behind with your eyes glowing bright blue and magic swirling around your hands. Dean pointed the Colt at Lucifer and shot him point-blank in the forehead. The angel fell to the ground, but none of the men surrounding you do anything about it.

“Is that it?” you asked.

After a minute or so, Lucifer took a deep breath and sat up.

“Owww,” he complained. The hole in his head started closing as he stood up. “Where did you get that?”

Lucifer had a look of murder in his eyes, and when he approached Dean, you knew he was going to hurt him. Without thinking, you rushed in front of Dean just as Lucifer’s fist came up to punch Dean. Your hand made contact with his, but a layer of magic separated the two kinds of flesh. Your eyes only glowed a brighter blue the more magic you exerted on the archangel. He was impressed you could do this, but he knew he was more powerful than you were.

“Even locked away in a cage, Amara is still a pain in my ass,” he chuckled.

He used more of his strength to knock you to the ground, and he still managed to punch Dean right into a tree which knocked him out. He walked away from you, and you scrambled over to Dean to help him.

“I’ll deal with you later,” Lucifer growled.

“Dean? Dean!” you panicked, putting your blue hand to his forehead.

His skin absorbed the magic you gave him, and he opened his eyes as soon as it did its thing.

“Now, where were we?” Lucifer chuckled. Sam watched with a horrified look as he picked up his shovel once more. “Don't feel too bad, Sam. There are only five things in all of creation that that gun can't kill, and I just happen to be one of them. But if you give me a minute, I'm almost done.”

Lucifer goes back to digging in his hole, and Sam looked at you to make sure his brother was alright. When you gave the nod of approval, he focused back on the angel.

“You know, I don't suppose you'd just say yes here and now? End this whole tiresome discussion? That's crazy, right?”

“It's never gonna happen!”

“Oh, I don't know, Sam. I think it will,” Lucifer goes back to digging. “I think it'll happen soon. Within six months, and I think it'll happen in Detroit.”

“You listen to me, you son of a bitch. I'm gonna kill you myself, you understand me? I'm going to rip your heart out!”

“That's good, Sam. You keep fanning that fire in your belly. All that pent-up rage. I'm gonna need it,” he grinned.

Sam visibly calmed down, looking at the townspeople still all around him.

“What did you do? What did you do to this town?”

“Oh, I was very generous with this town. One demon for every able-bodied man.”

“And the rest of them?”

“In there. I know, it's awful, but these horsemen are so demanding. So, it was women and children first. I know what you must think of me, Sam, but I have to do this. I have to. You of all people should understand.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Sam asked, and Lucifer dropped the shovel.

“I was a son. A brother, like you, a younger brother, and I had an older brother who I loved. Idolized, in fact. One day I went to him and I begged him to stand with me, and Michael turned on me. He called me a freak, a monster. Then, he beat me down all because I was different. Because I had a mind of my own. Tell me something, Sam, any of this sound familiar? Anyway. You'll have to excuse me. Midnight is calling and I have a ritual to finish. Don't go anywhere. Not that you could if you would.”

Lucifer turned to the hole he dug and began chanting as did the demons around him. Sam rushed over to you and Dean, and you helped the older brother sit up.

“Now repeat after me. We offer up our lives, blood, souls to complete this tribute,” Lucifer chanted, his disciples repeating after him.

One by one, the demons flash gold and fall over, dead. You and the Winchesters looked at Lucifer like he murdered an entire town—oh wait, he did.

“What? They're just demons,” Lucifer shrugged, going back to stare at the mass grave.

The ground starts to rumble, but Castiel appeared next to you three. He placed his finger on his lips to signal to you to be quiet. He used his abilities to teleport all three of you out of there and back at your dad’s house.

All of this, and Ellen and Jo died for nothing.

The glasses from Ellen and Castiel’s drinking competition are still on the table. The TV is on, showing a tornado with a caption that reads, “STATE OF EMERGENCY, Paulding County" and "KOUA 16".

“Just received an update that the governor has declared a state of emergency for Paulding County, including the towns of Marion, Fetterville, and Carthage. The storm system has reportedly touched off a number of tornadoes in the area,” the TV reporter announced.

You, Dean, Sam, and your dad all gather around the fireplace. After you told your dad what happened and how Ellen and Jo died for nothing, he didn’t say anything about it. How could he?

“Death tolls have yet to be estimated, but state officials expect the loss of life and property to be staggering.”

Your dad held a copy of the picture that was taken earlier. No one could bear to even look at the damn thing, so he tossed it into the fire and just watched it burn…

Like the rest of the world will do.

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[duhragonball]

Nanwum IV scheming

So I’ve got less than 6000 words to go on this month’s Camp Nano goal, and there’s six more days in July, which means I’m juuuuust caught up enough to get ahead of myself and think about how to handle this year’s National Novel Writing Month in November.  

For anyone just joining us, I’ve been writing this damn wienerfic for the past five years, and I’ve been using National Novel Writing Month (or Nanwum as the kids like to call it.) to power through the project and test my skills.   I’ve won three times, in 2017, 2018, and 2019.    This fall will be my fourth run.

I feel like I need a stronger plan for this one, since my first attempt in 2017 was much more structured, and I think that was a huge help.    2018 was good in the sense that I finished quickly, wrote thirty days in a row, and got an extra 10k past the goal.   I won in 2019, but it was kind of a mess, and I feel like I should take steps to keep the same thing from happening in 2020. 

So this is kind of my wishlist of stuff I want to achieve this November.   Dunno if I’m going to pull it all off, but I at least want a list of goals to score myself against.

1. Hit 50,000 words by November 20.    I’ve done this before, mostly out of fear that if I fell too far behind that I wouldn’t be able to get caught up in time to finish.  Now that I’m more experienced, fear isn’t as much of a factor, but the strategy still works, so I need to do it because it’s smart.   This would require me to write an average of 2500 words per day for the first 20 days.   

2. Write for thirty days in a row.   I pulled this off in 2018 and it felt pretty good.   In ‘17, I purposely scheduled days off for myself, which seemed like a good idea, but I think it does help me more to write at least a few words each day, if only to maintain momentum.   If I can hit goal #1, then I don’t expect great things from those final ten days.   In 2018 it was more of a victory lap.   But the idea is to keep me moving on those first 20 days.   

2a. I’d like to establish an 800 word/day minimum goal, but I’m not sure if that’s realistic.   If successful, I’d be pulling down 58,000 by 11/30/2020.   

3. Write 7000 words in one day.   So I’ve set two records for one-day writing.    The first was the clothing-optional Luffa #69, which I just pounded out in October 2017 while I was talking myself into the Nanwum experience.    That was about 6,000 words, but I’d need to look up the exact number.    The second time was November 11, 2018.  I’m more proud of that one because I had set out to hit 6,000.   Luffa #69 was just me on a roll, and wanting to finish the chapter in one day.    If I had managed to wrap it up in 3500 I would have.    

So my official record stands at 6,044 words in one day.    I’d like to break that, and I want to break it in a big way, so I’m aiming for 7000.   The way I see it, if I fail, then boo-hoo, I’ll still have a big one-day total.  

I’m thinking that maybe my best bet is to attempt this on day one.   Historically, I usually go into these things with a lot of momentum, and I’d be coming off of a day off from writing, so I’d be as fresh as possible.   So basically, 10/31, then 12:01 on 11/1 and I knock out a thousand words to start things off, and see where things go from there.   

The best way to make this work is to plan ahead just what I want to write.   It would also help if I had multiple things to switch around in case I get stuck.    What made 11/11/18 work so well was that I had a big dramatic fight scene that I’d been looking forward to, but also a couple of other chapters I could touch up.    I need similar conditions for 11/1/20.

Off the top of my head:

a.) Luffa Annual #2.  I had some fun doing a Christmas side-story with the characters, and I sort of wanted to make it an annual thing.  The trouble with Annual #1 was that I didn’t start it until December, and I couldn’t get it posted in time for Christmas, so it’s probably for the best if I just make this a fun thing I do on the side for Nano.   I’m not sure what I should do for the annual this year, although a magical girl/sentai kind of story.   Dunno how to make that about Christmas, wait, I’m an idiot, I’ll just have them fight a giant half-reindeer/half-pine tree monster that shoots missiles shaped like egg nog cartons.

...

You know, I say that like it’s a joke that I plan to workshop into something better later on, but honestly, that’s probably as good as it’s going to get.    Sorry to spoil everyone.   Pinedeer confirmed for brawl.

b.) Mega Chiaotzu?    Fuck it, Mega Chiaotzu.

c.) Look, I don’t want to get to spoiler-y, but I should be pretty deep into the Xenoverse phase of the story by November, so I had thoughts in mind for a Time Patrol mission to the Ginyu Force leg of the Namek Saga, basically for the sole purpose of having Luffa guest-star in DBZ Episode 66, the episode that inspired the character.   L U F F A C E P T I O N, if you will.

d.) On that note, I need to start introducing my Time Patrol supporting cast members, such as Excitebike, Big League Chew, and Dewar.    Man I almost forgot Dewar’s name for a second, I’d better do him first.   

I dunno, I think those four ideas ought to carry me past 7k.     I don’t expect to finish all of them, or even any of them on 11/1/18, but that should keep me busy.  

To summarize all this, if my plan goes well, I’d be looking at 7000 words on the first day, then I’d need to write 2263 words/day to hit 50k by 11/20.   Then I could take it easy and write 800 a day through the 30th.   That’s going to be tough, but do-able.   2000 a day has been a decent cruising speed for me in past years, but I feel like I’ve really fallen off of that lately.    The goal here will be to push myself to get back into that mode, and I think all the work I’ve been doing in January through September will really get me where I need to be.   Of course, I gotta finish July first, so if you’ll excuse me.

[d-ama-ien]

“They’re Cheesy for a Reason”

Written for the  First Visitation Day Gift Exchange run by @yancy-support-group

Gift for @breadstickksss , Prompt: soft

Yancy x Reader

Word count: 2626 (I may have gotten a bit excited…)

It's been months since the incident that got me sent to Happy Trails Penitentiary. Sure, adjusting to prison life was a bit rough at first, and I still don't love when the guards are in a bad mood and beat us around, but the kindness of the other prisoners quickly made me realize it wasn't that bad to be in prison. And I was a model prisoner, so I didn't fall victim to the guard's bad moods very often. 

Of all the prisoners, I had quickly grown closest to Yancy. He was the head of the family, in a way, so he often took the new prisoners under his wing until they got their feet under them. My feet have been under me for months, to the point where I can even help out new prisoners myself, but Yancy still spent most of his free time with me. It's not like I'm going to protest, I love spending time with him. Anything from mealtime to lifting weights in the yard was a pleasure; it was a surprise just how cute he could be, especially since I had heard from one of the others what exactly had gone down that led to him being sent here.

But, despite all his issues, Yancy was kind to the other prisoners, he valued the family he had built here above everything, he loved singing show tunes, even making and choreographing his own songs. When Yancy found out I was a musical fan as well, he had ranted about the shows he had seen for an hour before realizing how long he had been talking and apologizing. I found it adorable though, loving his enthusiasm, so we continued to talk about that for hours until the guards had to physically separate us for curfew. 

I don't see Yancy every day, he has to keep the family in shape, I have my own things to do, my own friends to hang out with, but on those days that Yancy is off with a new prisoner, I can't help but feel a bit moody. Each day, spent with or without Yancy, I'm becoming painfully aware that the feelings I have for him are more than platonic. It gets to the point where I have trouble reciprocating his friendly touches, finding myself daydreaming that instead of a platonic squeeze on my shoulder, he would lace his fingers with mine and squeeze our hands together instead. 

Yancy doesn't seem to be interested though, so I keep content with our friendship, enjoying the opportunity to know him any capacity. Sometimes, he makes it difficult for me to remain on the friendly side of things.

It happens while talking about first dates or first meetings in musicals. We were talking about romantic duets from our favorite shows, and the topic shifted to things like the start of the romance versus the big romantic finale when the characters will kiss and live happily ever after.

"I mean, is there anything cuter than I'll Cover You? Angel and Collins are absolutely perfect," I say, sighing as I remember the scene from Rent.

"Yeah, yeah, it's real cute until you remember the reprise that Collins sings after Angel dies," Yancy points out.

"It's still romantic! Depressing and awful, but those two have a love like nothing else, so even the reprise is romantic," I don't bring up how I cry like a baby almost every time I listen to the reprise. I mean, Angel's death and then the funeral and then all the breakups immediately afterward, it's a series of painful scenes.

"What about something cute and not depressing, maybe that Prom show you were talking about?" Yancy was pretty behind on Broadway shows, makes sense since he's been here so long, but I had been doing my best to tell him about the ones I knew.

"The Prom ends cute, but that main relationship goes through some serious problems too. I mean, the one girl's mom is a homophobe and purposefully ruins the main character's prom night, leading the girls to break up. They make up, but you know I cried in the theater because of that moment," Yancy sighs when I explain more about the central relationship I had told him about.

"Is every relationship depressing in musicals, or am I just not thinking of the right type of show?"

"I mean, if the relationships went well right off the bat, then it wouldn't be much of a plot," I point out.

"These musical characters got it all wrong, they just gotta do something simple. I think show writers underestimate the power of something cheesy like a picnic under the stars," Yancy throws his hands behind his head, leaning back casually while speaking.

"Aww, who knew you were an old school romantic," I tease, earning a scoff.

"Stuff like that's only considered cheesy because it works! Youse would agree if anyone did something like that for you," I'm almost offended at the insinuation that no one had ever done something cheesy for me. Still, none of my partners had set up a starlit picnic for me, so he was technically right.

"You got me there, I've never had anyone set up a picnic under the stars for me. But I think a normal coffee date would be the most realistic thing to portray in a show, I don't think picnics are super common anymore,"

"Do ya know what? I'll set up a starlight picnic for youse sometime, then you'll get what I'm talkin' bout," I laugh at what Yancy says, ignoring the stirring of emotions in my chest at the idea of Yancy doing something like that for me.

"Sure, Yancy, we'll see if that changes my mind," I agree.

"But, really, there's gotta be a relationship that goes well for an entire show," Yancy returns to the original train of conversation, and we spend the next hour of our free time trying to spitball shows with a straightforward and completely happy relationship.

After a week, that conversation is basically out of my mind. We have a lot of discussions, after all, and my brain space isn't only dedicated to Yancy, other things are going on around the prison to think about.

One evening I return to my empty cell, my cellmate had gotten parole a few days ago and hadn't been replaced yet. I turn on the small TV, it'll hopefully keep me entertained until lights out at least. The channels are minimal, I end up with some soap opera droning in the background while I take some time to read. They spoil us here at the penitentiary, but we're all about rehabilitation and rewards. Unless you get punished because when they give out punishments, you really suffer. That's why I keep on my best behavior, that's how I get these privileges. I'm just getting invested in a new chapter when the guard on duty stops by my cell.

"It's time for lights out, shut your TV off and get to bed," I oblige quickly, the guard walking away once I put the remote and book down by the, now off, TV. I slide under the covers of the bottom bunk, settling in for another good night of rest.

When I wake up, the cell is dim, I know it's still night, but I heard an unusual sound. I open my eyes slowly, blinking to adjust to the near non-existent lighting, and then I nearly jump out of my skin and have to muffle a scream.

Yancy has stuffed himself between the bunk and the mattress, grinning down at me. I cover my face for a moment, taking deep breaths to recover from the scare, before rolling out of bed to wait for Yancy to come out from under the mattress.

"What are you doing here? You nearly gave me a heart attack," I whisper my complaint, not wanting to draw the attention of the night shift guards.

"Just put ya shoes on, we got a picnic to get to,"

I blink in confusion as Yancy hands me my shoes, not sure I processed his sentence correctly. "A picnic?"

"You thought I was kidding?" Yancy laughs a bit as I slide my shoes on, "I really meant it when I said I'd take you out on a starlight picnic one of these nights," I suddenly recall our conversation from earlier this week, but I had seriously thought he was joking about that. 

"Wait, we're in prison. How are we supposed to have a picnic?" It's the middle of the night, I don't know how to wrap my brain around this.

"We're gonna break out," My mouth drops open in shock, I'm about to loudly demand an explanation when he rapidly waves his hands, "Temporarily! We'll come back, we ain't leavin' forever. Just for the picnic,"

I sigh in relief, I was almost sure for a second that this was Yancy's evil twin or an alien imposter and I was going to have to kill him. The Yancy I knew did not want to leave here anytime soon.

"Come on, if youse keep stalling, we ain't gonna have time for the picnic," Yancy nags as I finish lacing up my shoes. "But, before we go, youse gotta promise that you ain't gonna tell anyone the way out, and promise that youse won't go out for no reason,"

"I promise," I intend to finish out my sentence honestly, and while I like the other prisoners, I wouldn't want any of them out in society, so I definitely won't be telling any of them the way.

"Good, we'll skip the blindfold then," Yancy says with a grin, turning to move some of the decorations, revealing a small hole in the wall. He hooks a finger into the hole, apparently the wall here is just a panel that can be dragged open. We go through the tunnels, dodging some insanely heavy security measures that require very odd counting to get through, swim through a sewage pipe, which is as awful as it sounds, go through a series of increasingly complex instructions that I barely follow. Suddenly we're outside the prison gates. Yancy grabs my hand, pulling me along until we're clear of the building's light, walking along the edge of a nearby forest.

I gasp when we come upon the picnic Yancy had set up, a collection of candles surrounding a large blanket, a basket sitting in the center. Yancy smiles at my reaction, dragging me over to the blanket and encouraging me to sit on the blanket while he pulls supplies out of the basket. 

"Yancy, where did you get all of this?" I ask, totally delighted as he hands me a glass and pours me some sort of sparkling drink. He pulls out a plate of small sandwiches next, offering it to me before he pours himself a drink. 

"Cucumber sandwiches, really?" He even cut them into tiny triangles.

"You just gotta know where the guards keep their personal stash, they got all sorts of fancy stuff there. They won't miss any of this stuff, so we might as well use it," he explains, leaning back to support himself on his arm, watching me with a small smile.

"I can't believe you really set this up," I lean back as well, craning my neck to look up at the stars. They're beautiful out here; there's no light pollution out here, so the night sky is clearer than I've ever seen it.

"I'm a man of my word, and I said I'd set up a starlight picnic for youse. Do youse doubt my word?" I can tell Yancy is teasing, he nudges my shoulder how he usually does when poking fun, but I decide to answer anyways.

"I thought you were joking, honestly. I mean, why would you put in the work of setting all this up just for me?" Yancy's brows furrow at that.

"What do ya mean by that? Of course I'd do stuff like this for youse." Yancy ducks his head, rubbing the back of his neck shyly, "I care about youse, dummy,"

I wait for the joke or laughter to follow, but it never comes. My heart is nearly beating out of my chest, my cheeks burning red even if I'm sure he meant he cared as a friend.

"I care about you too, I really value your friendship," I reply, managing to smile at him. I swear his lips twitch into a frown for a moment, but it must be a flicker of the candlelight. I shiver a bit from a sudden breeze, Yancy immediately activates his "head of the family" instincts and starts rummaging through the basket.

"I thought it might get a bit chilly," he comments as he pulls out a fuzzy blanket, it's even my favorite color. I accept the blanket gratefully, wrapping myself up in the soft material. I stare up at the stars, trying to pick out constellations that I could remember, and I hear Yancy softly sigh from next to me.

"Hey, Yancy, I've got a question," I glance towards him, waiting for his nod before continuing, "Do you ever… do you ever regret getting sent here?"

It's a sensitive question, one I don't think I would ever ask while in the walls of the prison, but Yancy does not react at first.

"I…. I honestly can't say that I regret it. I didn't mean for things to go the way they did, but this life is better than anything I ever had on the outside. I got a real family here, and… I got youse," I twist my hands in the soft material of the blanket, quietly contemplating his answer.

"What about youse? Any regrets?"

"I miss my family, I guess, but otherwise, I can't say that I regret much. If I weren't here, I wouldn't have met you, and you're probably one of the best things to happen to me," I admit it, at least partially, getting those feelings into the open air under the stars.

"Come here," Yancy mutters, pulling me closer to him until I'm pressed against his side, resting my head on his shoulder. We sit in comfortable silence, relaxing under the stars.

"I think you were right about these picnics," I mumble, sleep starting to take over. I feel Yancy's low chuckle more than I hear it, followed shortly by the press of his lips against my forehead. I doze off, comforted by the warmth of his body and the blanket surrounding me.

The next day I wake up in my usual bunk, half wondering if I dreamed up that whole picnic. That escape situation was ridiculous after all, and I can't imagine anyone, even a guy as strong as Yancy, being able to carry someone through all those security measures. And it's not like I can ask about it- if it did happen, that means we literally broke out of here last night. I shake off the thoughts, deciding to just go to breakfast and worry about it later.

"Hey, youse!" Yancy greets as I walk into the dining hall, "I saved youse a seat," he points out the chair in question, going over to talk to one of the other prisoners while I go and grab a tray of food and take my seat.  

"How'd ya sleep?" Yancy questions, winking when I raise my eyebrow at him. His hand finds mine under the table, intertwining our fingers and squeezing when I smile at him.

"I slept great, and you know after last night I just had this strange inclination that you had a point about those cheesy first dates,"

"I told youse, it's cheesy for a reason.”