#(OK IS IT WORKING PROPERLY NOW MAKES QUICK FIXES)

[kinardsevan]

𝐢'𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤

listen. i'm still so convinced it's Tommy up on that crane in 807 that my brain keeps writing scenes 😂😂😂😂 so have this:

"Buck, you need to-"

He can't hear Bobby's words as he races up the ladder, panic rising faster and faster in his chest.

"Hey no no no no no!" He yells, throwing himself over the side. His hands grasp tight around Tommy's. "Stop stop stop! Please!" The words are coming out of him in sobs, but large hands grip around his wrists and a moment later, the older man tilts his head up and his eyes lock with Evan's.

"Ev-..." He cuts himself off, his voice wobbly and raspy from his current predicament.

"Just stop," Evan replies, snuffling as tears run down his face. "Stop moving, stop- just stop."

"Ok," Tommy replies, his voice weary as his fingers tighten around Evan's wrists that much more. The blonde glances up toward Chimney on the opposite crane. He's still working to get the harness unstuck, but apparently only having mild success with it.

"My legs are numb," Tommy states, blinking slowly. Chim looks up at them.

"Fuck this. I'm going to cut him down. The 217 can get the line fixed," Chimney states before heading back down the ladder in quick succession. "I need bolt cutters!"

"Evan," Tommy rasps. His hands are sweaty now, hanging onto the other man's arms.

"No," Evan replies, his voice tinged with anger now. "You have to hang on."

"You have to let go," Tommy counters to him, his voice exhausted. "Evan-" His grip slips on Evan's arm, and beneath them there's scrambling to get the inflatable placed properly. He glances over at the other crane as Chimney finishes reascending it.

"I can't," Evan replies, his own voice strained as he grips onto Tommy's arm with both hands now. "Fuck, Tommy, I can't."

"Why not," he asks wearily.

"Because!" Evan yells at him. Several tears fall off his face in quick succession, one landing on Tommy's own face as it continues its descent downward.

Somehow, even from beneath him, even with most of his blood volume hanging out in the lower half of his body with no way to make it circulate properly, Tommy manages to give him that look, the one that says he's really paying attention.

"Evan." He says it like it's Evan who needs to be talked off the ledge, like he's the one hanging in the middle of the air being held up by a crane.

"You don't get to give up now," Evan growls at him. "You already did that to me once this week."

"Are we really talking about this now," Tommy asks him. His fingers slip a few millimeters, but Evan curls his hand tight under Tommy's elbow, trying to pull him up.

"Seems as good a time as any," he replies. A humorless laugh slips out of him.

"I've almost got it," Chimney calls from the other crane.

Evan gulps. "It was too much, too fast," he states. "Asking you to move in. I s-said things that made it sound like I wasn't invested-.."

"It's fine," Tommy replies, sounding mildly exasperated.

"No its not," Evan argues, squeezing tighter on Tommy's arm. "it's not. Because it made me sound like I was asking you to move in because it's the easy option, like I wanted you to stay without any consideration of what your life looks like outside of what we are. Or were."

Tommy stares up at him, still blinking slow and long. Evan pulls his arm up inches higher, trying to take more of the weight off of his lower body.

"But it's not that," he says, sniffling again. "I lept before thinking, a-and made it into a thing that it wasn't and has never been." He sniffles again. "I didn't ask you to move in because I wanted to be impulsive. I said it because I want a life with you, a-and I was afraid to own that and what that means for me." He pauses and gulps, lets out a breath. "I was so pissed at you for breaking up with me, a-and you were doing the same thing I did. You were protecting yourself." Tommy stares up at him, eyebrows quirked slightly in confusion.

"I thought if I didn't say it, it was safer, that we-..." He shakes his head at himself as he feels the tension pulling Tommy back toward Chimney starting to wane as the bolt cutters work through the metal. "But I also want the whole damn thing with you. I'm not in it because it's easy, or because you were the first man to kiss me. I'm in it because I'm in love with you."

Tommy stares up at him still, giving him that damn look again, and the slack goes looser, his weight becoming even heavier on Evan's arms.

"I love you," he repeats. "I love you so damn much."

Tommy grants him a weary smile. "I love you too, Evan."

His weight falls entirely on Evan then, and both of their arms jerk out straight, Evan leaned roughly over the crane as he tries to keep holding on.

"Evan, let go," Tommy tells him.

"Please," Evan begs him, and he's not even entirely sure what it is he's begging for. "Tommy-.."

"I love you too," he repeats. "But you have to let go."

Evan gulps, forces a breath in, forces his tunnel vision to open up, and realizes the inflatable is ready and will catch Tommy. "I'll meet you at the bottom."

"Sounds good," Tommy rasps. And then, against everything that tells him he should, Evan lets go, watching as Tommy drops the 30 feet onto the inflatable crash pad. As soon as his body hits, Evan is already double-timing his way down the ladder. He makes it down in what he's sure is record time, running past everyone else to get to Tommy's side. Hen already has him on a stretcher, attached to a dozen leads and assessing his legs.

"Risk of compartment syndrome," she states. "Likely dislocation of the left hip. He needs x-rays and we need to go."

"I'm going with," Evan announces, refusing to hear reason to any other option. His hand is tight in Tommy's as soon as he's next to him, his other hand combing down the other man's hair as he stares down into those blue eyes. They're already brighter from his circulation picking back up. "I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you."

"Good lord just kiss the man already," Gerrard calls from the back of the crowd. Evan whips his head around and Tommy leans up off he gurney, both of them giving the old grump a shocked expression.

"What?" He asks. He has that grumpy look on his face once more, like he still thinks that their lifestyle is beneath him (at the very least). "We all know it's what you're thinking. I just said it."

Evan turns back toward Tommy, and the blue eyes meet.

"My boyfriend's sister once said there better ways to get someone's attention than this," Tommy says. Evan lets out a laugh, color flushing through his cheeks at the dignification of boyfriend. He curls two fingers under Tommy's chin and kisses him, both of them ignorant of the whooping and hollering happening around them.

"Like that," he whispers when they finally part, pressing his forehead into Tommy's. Tommy has a hand fisted around Evan's shirt, keeping him close.

"Yeah, that works," he whispers back. "I love you, too, Evan. I love you, too."

[hayleymarriedjakurai]

mouthwashing x drdt

NOT a situation where im like "ok whit = daisuke" no. this is a different situation. their own scenario, trust. XF-Ture Express, despite its reputation for being one of the most reliable delivery services across the galaxy, has a terrible inside system. They have one of the lowest failure rates of the space freighters, being at a whopping 5% chance. Employees are paid a hefty amount, motivated by good working conditions on each ship with quality leisure activities and meal plans. But only the ones who earn it get such treatment. The hierarchy in which employees are forced to participate in never leaves the walls of the building. You do your job right and kill yourself working, you get assigned better ships with better shipments. It is as simple as that. So it is unfathomable when Captain Xander Matthews, considered one of the best, is assigned to a ship that is just barely allowed to launch. The "Fatebringer", is what it is called. It just scraped by inspection and is subpar for an XF-Ture ship, but supposedly it is necessary. Xander's job is not an easy one, but simple enough for someone of his caliber. He is to take this crappy ship, along with a shipment, to the exoplanet where the the better functioning ships are maintained and created. He and his crew will turn in this old junk ship for a sleek, modern one and move the shipment to it. Then on their way back, they will deliver it and return to Earth. Simple, they said. Child's play for a captain with so much experience. So it only makes sense for the best of the best to be assigned with him. Rose Lacroix. Her job is what is called 'the documenter'. She has no real purpose other than to keep track of supplies, as well as record daily minutes regarding every single thing that happens on board that is important to note. Due to her memory, she is considered the best to keep track of large quantities of items/the best to spot minor inconsistencies or things that are misplaced. She only needs to walk around a ship once to get it down properly. She has worked with Xander once before. Arturo Giles. The medic. He is apparently not new to this field despite being so young. He is usually quite unbearable and does not prefer to speak to his fellow employees, as most are deemed "too hideous". Despite his terrible personality, he is undeniably the best medic to have on a long assignment due to his quick efficiency. He claims that one day, the company will realize that he deserves better than what he has. (Despite being named the best medical employee.) He has worked with Rose twice, David once. J Moreno. The best mechanic for any ship, especially one as crap as the Fatebringer. When nothing needs to be fixed, she prefers to help out others if they need it (only if they deserve it, of course.) As much as she would prefer to stay on her own, she knows teamwork always comes first on long hauls. Her true identity is known to the company; they still put her actual name on all official documents and tech. She has to manually hide these things, as well as her ID card. Mariabella Rosales and XF-Ture collaborate a lot for financial purposes. She will advertise them with her existence/commercials/whatever, and they will pay her. And of course, never make J's employment public. If J weren't so good at what she does, they would not have cared. But they really like Mariabella's money so. As of now, Julia Rosales is considered MIA. David Chiem. Xander's co-pilot and good friend. David is usually the morale booster of his crews, always keeping spirits up and energy high despite the monotony of long hauls. He is usually who people will go to for advice or mental health discussions in place of the medic for two reasons: He cannot medically document anything, AND he is just such a fantastic listener! He always knows what to say! Xander and David have lost count of how many shipments they have done together. Teruko Tawaki. The stowaway of the Fatebringer who was not meant to be there. She was never meant to be there.

Teruko is usually assigned co-pilot. She has never worked with anyone else on the ship, so it is unclear whether or not her strange misfortune is known to any of them. Every ship she has ever been on has failed to bring their shipments on time- or at all. She has even seen crew members die in front of her. There have been near crashes, close calls...always when she is there. Nobody can terminate her. She has technically done nothing wrong, and firing her for no reason could mean a lawsuit or her spreading rumors about the company. So when Xander is given his assignment, he can only be dumbfounded when written in pen, he spots it. "Kill Teruko Tawaki. Find a way." And so Teruko is brought onto the ship, unconscious and hidden away. When she awakens, Xander will tell everyone that she is a surprise extra crew member. The excuse is that while she is usually co-piloting, XF-Ture is interested in having Teruko's skills expanded by having her shadowing the best of the best. Teruko, not remembering much, accepts this and trusts Xander. David's true personality is the same in canon: cold, cruel, manipulative. He feels threatened by Teruko's presence. After learning that her usual role is his, his theory is that she snuck onto the ship to prove she is better suited/to get him terminated. He treats her as normal UNTIL the crash. Xander is aware of Teruko's past jobs in vivid detail. He has been given reports, seen the documents...how much happens wherever she goes. He wants to get rid of her as soon as possible to keep the crew safe despite his guilt. Things go smoothly...until he receives word that XF-Ture is done for. It had only been two months, so what happened? The Rosales family suddenly stopped funding them, and everything crumbled after that. Nobody ever realized how much of their funding came from them. Xander felt mild relief. He truly does not want to kill a seemingly innocent woman for the company. After all, if she were truly responsible for any of those terrible things, they would have fired her with no hesitation. There must be a reason why she's still employed. But now they're all out of a job. What does that mean for them? Xander's mental health starts to plummet. Small things on board start to go wrong, and his first paranoid thought is to blame Teruko for being there. He becomes obsessed with reading over the reports from the crews that suffered in her presence. They were right; she's the cause. He confides in David, panicked and drained. Xander was a good man; far too good to kill anyone. Even if the people who told him to do so were technically no longer in charge of them...Teruko still needed to go. There's no reason to do the delivery, and there only thing they can really do is go to the exoplanet to swap out ships for a comfortable ride home. But with Teruko on board, there is no guarantee that they'll even get back to Earth. Xander tells him everything- too much. David decides that Teruko cannot make it back no matter what. Whatever field she gets to next will be riddled with destruction and possibly worse. Everyone here is at the top of XF-Ture, the best in a dead company. It is too late for any of them to climb to the top of another wage slave ladder. So he crashes the ship. Teruko Tawaki must die. If Xander cannot do it, he does not mind staining his filthy hands with more blood. What else happens? Who knows.

[pomeloandtv]

ok, that's two down, one more wish

ok, my girlfriend, when we are planning things, from now on occasionally i am going to suggest a completely disproportionate and unreasonable compromise, and when i do i wish that she will not recognise it as that, she will see it as a fair suggestion, clever even, like i've cut the gordion knot

##############

[six months later]

can we go camping this summer?

i dunno the mosquitos ate me alive last time, it ruined the experience

we'll get good mosquito repellent, i can investigate the best things we can do to prevent that, i promise

i dunno, i'm not convinced, lots of other things went wrong that last time

we just need to prepare properly for the trip! we know what went wrong now and so we know what we need to fix, we can do it!

hmmm, ok, how about, we go camping, you investigate the mosquito thing, we start writing a list of everything that went wrong last time, and start doing the research on preventing them, aaaaannnnnndd you get breast implants

"....."

honey?

no, i'm just thinking, that's ... good, really good, it's simple, it works, we can do this. oh my god we will have such good fun this time, i promise

but i mean, [raising eyebrow and cocking head], you know, big ones, like really fake looking too, maybe i should help decide

thank you so much! [big hug] this is so cool! just like that time we agreed who i could spend time with!

[hugging, stroking hair, laughing, maybe a bit too loud] or the time you agreed i should have complete control over your orgasms

[falsetto voice, happily, still hugging tightly] yyeeeeeeeaaaaahhhhhhh

[barely able to contain himself] hahahahaaaaa ah haha [wiping a tear away] oh my god!

[breaking off the hug to look at him quizzically, then smiling] you're funny

[calming down] aah ha ahh [wiping another tear] ok, ok, i'm good, ha! you know me

that's right, i [playfully punches arm] know you. ha ok, i know already what kind of tent we should get and ...

now hang on, here's the order we should do things, we should start making a list of everything we need to get right for camping, but each of those problems will be quick to solve. but your boob job will take longer , both to plan and to heal, we need to start working on that first

ok, huh, but i don't even know where to begin, i've literally never thought about this kind of thing before, ever

right, so it is important to get a good doctor, but not every doctor will want to perform any surgery. you start by investigating potential surgeons, look for people with a good track record and reputation, that specialize in, uh ... [mimes two hefty breasts on his chest], you know? this is important to get right, so you don't need to stay local in your search

ok, i'll do that

meanwhile i'll start compiling pictures that you can show doctors of the types of boobs you want, you know figuring out dimensions and profile and the like

[excitedly clapping hands together in front of her chest] yay!

##############

[four months later]

[posting] hey everyone, new profile pic!

[sun-e-chips]

Idk if you've been asked this yet but if you haven't...

does the water park have underground tunnels? Like Disney level underground? Or not? because I know Disneyland uses them to allow cast members to get to their areas without being seen in clashing ones to "preserve the magic" and all that fun stuff (apparently they are longggg walks)

i was just curious if the park had them, and if so would underground races (literally) occur?

Hello hiiiiii @buzzybee3 !!!!!

Interestingly enough in a way the waterpark DOES have underground tunnels but not quite like what Disney has. It’s a water drainage system for all the slides and pools. This way if any “incidents” happen everything can be properly drained and sanitized, and the boys figured out a way to run a water reserve for these exact instances so the watery attraction can be up and running in no time. But everything is still regularly filtered and sanitized regardless, the reserve is just for emergencies. Nothing really for the boys to traverse the park in.

Walking around Sun, Moon and the Tikis freely roam the park as they please so in a way their always in character, but still fairly genuine. (no need for backstage paths) You bringing up cast members made me really want to dive into what life is like for the boys around WB:D

Im trying to think how best to describe Sun and Moon and their work vs leisure time around the park and resort … hmmmm

Though Sun and Moon co-own Waterspark Bay and split up the work, they do favor particular roles.

Sun: More of the financial and legal responsibilities, he handles the business side of running WB. (its all self taught, this stuff is very fun and interesting to him, which is great because it eats up a lot of his free time after park hours). Sun also makes a lot of the big decisions for the park, one example being the major reconstruction/renovations made to Waterspark Bay.

Moon: Very similar to a manager, he manages his team (the tikis) and schedules, the leader in the day to day operational decisions. Most things are reported to him (Moon is the behind the scenes leader, he does a lot of multitasking with meeting guest and park needs throughout the day) My boy is a stickler for safety and rules but having said that he knows how to break them. (What a hypocrite)

(Typing this I’m just now realizing the irony of Suns heavy working hours being at night while Moons is during the day… wow)

The Tikis fill the role of the employees; guest services, cleaning, maintenance, security, all the staff needed to fill those other roles in running a themepark and resort .

The boys still do a lot of guest interactions throughout the day though because they love it! This is where they started, this is the heart of everything they do, connecting with people and making their vacation as magical as possible. It’s the best way to find out what needs improving and to catch issues in need of quick fixes. They want to make that connection with you because it matters to them that you are enjoying yourself and making great memories.

As far as they’re concerned the money that comes from the park is money that goes into bringing a smile to your face!

…

Ok leisure

The boys do follow a schedule, but for the most part they walk around throughout the day wherever they feel they’re needed. They have the luxury to take a break whenever because they are comfortable and confident in the routine they built and if needed Sun and Moon could take an entire day off because the Tikis get the drill. (Moon would probably still be peeking at Tiki updates because he just can’t help it)

Yes even if they were on a break guests will still approach them wanting to talk, ask questions or take photos but they don’t mind they’re always happy to interact. (If the boys really wanted a break they know how to get it, empty resort rooms, in-between closed dinning hours, low guest traffic times, staff/maintenance areas etc.) but I would say they do most of the approaching to guests, people walk up to them maybe around 15 times a day which isn’t a lot. And guests typically don’t approach if Sun or Moon are currently talking to someone. *wink *wink

(Thank you so much for your questions and letting me ramble haha)

[lovrre]

princesses last berzatto dinner~ prt 1

Carmen berzatto x black female reader

Word count: 5k

summary : Y/n, also known as Princess, returns home to Chicago for a final Christmas dinner with the Berzattos before permanently moving to Los Angeles. Saying goodbye to the family she invited herself into when she was only six.This Dinner may be the last opportunity for y/n and Carmen to makeup before they go their separate ways forever. Will they make the most of this chance.(the way that she was supposed to be short  and sweet, I literally ended up writing 8,000 words…. Anyway this will probably be a three-part series)

warnings: cursing, drug use (weed), drinking, smoking(cigarettes), smut… and probably a bunch other stuff

You knock on the front door with your right hand trying to balance the metal pan of banana pudding you brought in your left. You can see your breath in the air as you breathe due to how cold it is outside. There are no responses from when you knocked the first time so you knock again slightly harder. Still no answer, You start getting irritated with the cold air nipping at your bare legs and the pan that keeps trying to lean right. Just when you think of leaving, Richie opens the door with a confused look on his face.

“Please Don’t make that stupid face, Donna asked me to come so I’m here,” you say walking passed him into the living room, “I didn’t even say anything” you hear Richie mumble before closing the door.

As soon as you walk inside you're greeted by the loud familiar sounds of the Berzatto home. Christmas music played in the background as everyone talked loudly amongst themselves. You go to take off your coat and put it on the coat rack by the entrance. Natalie stops you Putting her arm over your shoulder And directing you through the hallway.

“Finally someone sane,” she says turning to you “Jesus you look great” she sighs looking up at you “I look a mess, I haven’t slept properly in days. I’m stressed out of my mind, Mom’s at like six right now and I can’t- is this the pudding?” Natalie asks interrupting herself, gesturing to the the metal pan in your hand. “Mmh” you hum with a sight smile “Awww you made the small pan this time,” she says with a little pout “Yeah, I decided last minute to come so I didn’t have time to….” you say realizing you’ve said too much. Sugar’s face drops slightly, “It’s just-“ you say trying to defend yourself but Natalie interrupts

“you don’t have to explain yourself, trust me I understand... I’m just glad you came, but I had hoped you and Carm worked things out by now” Sugar says with a sad smile

“I did too, but I think it’s permanent this time,” you say trying your best to sound unbothered. “Well, you still have me,” Sugar says giving you a tight side hug. “That I do,” you say giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Don’t stress, I’ll handle Donna” you say giving her a reassuring look. “That’s probably for the best, I think you’re probably the one who can”.

You nod walking towards the kitchen. When you walk in you see Donna’s back facing you, she's moving back and forth from the cutting board, pot, and oven. You walk up slowly behind her rubbing her back to notify her you‘re here. She jumps a little grabbing her chest.

“Y/n you scared the shit out of me,” Donna says with a big smile, she wraps her arms around you. hovering her butter-covered hands so she doesn't get any on your jacket. “Oh you look so beautiful,” Donna says gesturing like she wants to hold your face “Has Carmy seen you?” she says quickly turning around to turn something off on the stove. “No, not yet“ you reply looking around the room for somewhere to put your coat hoping she would drop the topic. “That’s OK I’ll call him for you,” Donna says fixing her mouth to yell. “No, no it’s ok Donna-“

“CARMEN GET IN HERE NOW, Y/N HERE!” Donna yells angrily at the top of her lungs. “You didn’t have to do that Donna I was gonna talk to him eventually,” You say letting out an annoyed sigh “So…I just sped it up, What’s the problem?” she says returning to her pot. “Nothing never mind,” you say dropping it. You hear heavy loud footsteps running into the kitchen and turn your head to see what it is.

“What, What is it? what’s the matter!” Carmy says irritated and frantic from the entrance of the kitchen. “Good you're here, look how fucking beautiful she is Carmy, it’s she fucking beautiful,” Donna says gesturing to you. You give Carmen a little wave and he nods dismissively making you instantly regret it. The feeling of Aggravation washes over you and you get the urge to be an asshole. “Carmen tell her she looks fucking beautiful!” Donna says getting irritated.

“No Ms.D it’s okay If Carmen wants to be disrespectful let him be disrespectful,” you say with a dramatic shrug trying to keep the smile off your face. “Carmen” Donna says staring him down. “Ma look she’s fucking with you, look she’s smiling,” Carmen says. trying to plead his case “CARMEN!“ Donna yells making you jump slightly. There’s a silence that settles in the room before he talks “You look…good, y/n” Carmy says reluctantly. “Aww thanks, babe,” you say sarcastically giving him a tight-lipped smile. Carmen gives you a nasty look before leaving the kitchen and you get the urge to flip him off even after he already left.

“I guess the Los Angeles is treating you well,” Donna says while stirring something. “Huh?” You asked confused “Your coat, it looks expensive,” she says taking the spoon out of the pot and banging it on the edge to get off the extra sauce. “It wasn’t, I got it from a friend”

you reply shorty trying to quickly change the topic “Anyway how have you been” you ask with a small smile. Donna goes completely silent for a second and you worry you said something wrong,“ I need you to redo my roots tomorrow are you spending the night?” Donna asks ignoring your question completely taking her finger and tasting the sauce off the spoon. “No I got a hotel- have you asked Natalie to do it?” You ask leaning against the counter. “So she can get dye everywhere, no- what’s that?” Donna questions mid-sentence, pointing at your pan making your heart drop.

“Banna pudding?” you say hoping you weren't about to be the cause of a breakdown. Donna lets out a relieved sigh at your words. “For a second I thought you made fish”. Donna says with a laugh that makes you uncomfortable turning around and resuming her cooking. “Ms. D you know, I know better” you chuckle trying to find a place to put your pan on the crowded counter, you hesitantly put the tin pan close to the edge because it's the only spot available. You also take off your coat placing it on an empty chair by the entrance of the dining room. “I'm so glad you came, I was just telling Michael “y/n coming”, he didn't believe me but I told him you were on-” a loud ringing of food timer interrupted her. She quickly turns it off with sauce-covered fingers before yanking open the oven.

“Fuck” Donna says loudly grabbing her oven mitts and throwing the hot pan onto the counter. “Y/n hand me the knife over there,” Donna says not turning around. You quickly get the knife and hand it to her upside down when you feel arms wrap around you from behind. “THE PRINCESS IS HERE!” Michael announces picking you up off the ground and spinning you. “GET OFF” you yell trying to get out of his grasp. “Don't do that shit in here,” Donna says shooing the two of you towards the kitchen entrance. Michael puts you back on the ground and you readjust your dress that rode up slightly.

Fak walks in with a dramatic surprised expression plastered on his face “Princess?” Fak says with a big smile walking up and hugging you, You try to protest but he squeezes you tighter swaying side to side. “Ok ok, that's enough,” you say finally breaking free “Why is everyone so huggy suddenly” you say adjusting your dress again.

“Because We haven’t seen you in forever,” Fak says with a smile that makes you suddenly feel a little bad for not telling any of them this was your last Christmas dinner together or probably any dinner here because you were moving to LA for good. “It’s been a couple of months,” You say walking back into the kitchen to get a glass of wine. “It's been like nine, princess,” Michael says following behind you with Fak. You open the cabinet where Donna keeps the glasses before your brain tells you to ask. “Can I use a glass?” you turn around to ask hand already on the stem of it. “Of course y/n...” she says before taking a pause, putting her knife down on the cutting board

“You know what I think princess, I think you’ve been away from home too long...you’re starting to act shy like you don't know us….Getting hotels. You're Just like Carmen, you two pop in and out as you please“ Donna says resumeing her chopping faster than before. You let out a sigh wiping your face in frustration at the topic “I have missed you at the beef” Fak chimes in nodding his head annoyingly while chewing on something. “fak why are talking right now?” you say quickly giving him a shut the fuck up look, and he does. “fuck Princess I hate to agree with him but he’s right, when’s the last you came and got your sandwich?” Michael asks lifting an eyebrow.

“My job is in Los Angeles so I’m usually in Los Angeles I don't see what the problem is here,” you say looking in the drawers for a wine bottle opener. “It's in that one,” Donna says, pointing to the drawer, close to her. You retrieve the wine opener and she continues. “I'm just saying y/n it would be nice if you visited more often,” Donna says shrugging her shoulders, throwing onions in the pot. You sigh internally not wanting her to start the same lecture you’ve heard a million times before. You don't say anything so Michael starts up again

“Princess you know, I really didn't think we’d see you again. I didn't, Mom told me you were coming, I said no fucking way. After last year you didn't show up I thought we had lost you and that fucking pudding forever”

Michael says laughing while leaning against the counter where you put your pan. “Actually where’s that shit, I need to continue the tradition,” Michael says turning his head and his body slightly side to side looking for it, in the process pressing his back against the pan pushing it closer towards the edge. “can you stop? STOP STOP!” you scream running behind Michael grabbing your pan before it fell “Pay the fuck attention you were about to drop it all over the damn floor!” you say angrily holding the pan far away from him. “And you Must be diluted if you think I’m gonna let you put your dirty ass finger in my pudding again, it's not happening,” you say discretely looking around for a place to hide

It.

“Ooo not so shy anymore,” Michael says in a taunting, older brother tone “I can't fucking think with you two yelling in my ear!” Donna declares her jittery hands, repeatedly, pressing the side of her ear. “My bad Ms.D,” you say lowering your tone. “See what the fuck you did now I'm getting yelled at,” you say going back to finishing pouring your wine. “I'm not yelling,” Donna says still chopping away “I'm sorry Ms. D I didn't mean like that I just meant, like getting in trouble,” you say looking at her for approval. “Mmh” she hums not looking up from the cutting more. You Hear Richie laugh followed by some corny dramatic claps. “what the fucks so funny?” you ask already annoyed by his presence. “I don’t know maybe watching, you cower, “sorry Ms. D, My bad Ms.D” Richie says laughing.

You stare at him, blank-faced for a minute before talking, “Did you think that was funny? Fak did you think it was funny fak?” you ask giving a knowing look. “No not really” Fak mumbles “Right, because it wasn't,” you say annoyed taking a big swig of your wine. “I thought it was funny,” Michael says

“of course, you thought that was funny Michael everything’s a fucking joke to you,” you say aggressively taking another sip of your wine. “Wow...really” you hear Riche says trying to egg Michael on. “Low blow” you hear fak humble you internally you cursed yourself for saying it but it was too late. “What’s that supposed mean y/n…” Michale says his tone serious “Do we have to do this?” you mumble downing the rest of your wine. “WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN!” Michael yells. “Nothing, nothing, I didn’t mean anything by it,” you say trying to calm down the situation and not laugh, something about Michael being mad was always really funny to you. You think it's because you knew he was never serious Michael could never stay mad at you. You bring your hand to your mouth trying to hold in your laughter and the wine but it only makes Michael angrier.

“What’s so fucking funny?”Michael says a small smile pulling at his lips as a result of yours but you can tell he’s still really upset. “Nothing,” you say shruging your shoulders trying to act nonchalant.

You glance over Donna and see her staring down at the pot in a daze tapping her finder on the edge of the counter. Before you could warn Michael to just leave it You see his eyes flicker down to the tin pan in your hand and it's like you see the idea pop into his head. “NO!-” you say before A loud familiar sound of the food timer going off triggering Donna. “GET THE FUCK OUT! ALL OF YOU GET THE FUCK OUT” Donna yells waving the knife around

You do as told bolting out of the kitchen with your pudding in hand. Michael follows close behind trying to catch up with you. You bump into some people as you run through the house like kids. You do your best to keep Michael at a distance and not drop the pan. He finally gets tired on your third lap around the house giving up when you run up the stairs. You laugh at his lack of stamina and you use the time to hide the pan in the empty closet in the hallway. Once you’re back downstairs you decide to sit on the couch to catch your breath.

You sit down on the plastic-covered couch next to a sleeping old lady and cousin Michelle. Stevie’s on the other side her along with Lee “What was that about?” Michelle asked with a small chuckle. As you get comfortable on the couch “I don’t even want to get into it” you say closing your eyes “Do you two fight every year?” Stevie asks leaning forward so he can see you better. “We didn’t fight last year,” you say with your eyes still closed.

“You weren’t here last year,” Stevie says scrunching up his face in confusion. “Well, I guess that answers your question,” you say while yawning. You open your eyes realizing you forgot to ask something. “Oh I almost forgot,” you say slowly lowering your voice

“Do you know who this is?” you mouth gesturing to the old lady next to you with her mouth wide open. You watch as Mitchell's gears turn as she tries to remember “I think that's my aunt” Michelle laughs blowing smoke out the side of her mouth. “Since when do you smoke without me?” you say plucking the blunt out of her hand taking a pull “Since you decided on playing tag with Micheal and left me with Dumb and Dumber,” Michelle says gesturing to Fak and his brother. “Oh no...what the fuck are they wearing?” you say blowing out smoke “It was bad enough on one,” you cough passing the blunt back to Michelle. “It's like the shining but worse” Michelle says, making you laugh

“So What’s up with you and cousin?” Michelle asks taking a pull. You let out a sigh mentally preparing yourself for the conversation. “Too much,” you say slouching slightly on the couch “At first it was good, I didn’t wanna ruin our friendship, but I liked Carmen. But I also wasn’t ready for a relationship And he didn't like labels and we liked each other so it seemed perfect. We'll just figure out our feelings together type shit, you know” you say making unnecessary hand motions. “Mmhh” cousin Michelle hums before taking another pull passing you the blunt. You take a pull before talking “But then you blink and it’s been 3 years and he still doesn’t want a relationship,” you say feeling your brain start to get cloudy.

“do you know this whole time you guys have been calling me Carm’s girlfriend we had never made it official, I was never actually his girlfriend,” you say annoyed “But you guys fucked right?” Michelle asks concerned “Of course we fucked, we fucked a lot…a concerning amount at one point…” Michelle slightly scrunches up her face in disgust “You asked!” you say in a high-pitched voice defending yourself

“Anyway,” you say shaking the memory out of your head, taking another quick puff before handing the bunt back. “Should we be smoking next to her?” You ask looking over at the old lady sleep mouth still open. “She’ll be fine…if anything were doing her a favor she’s like 103,” Michelle said taking a sip of her wine. “Really?” “Yep” “That’s insane, good for her,” you say nodding

“Anyway, I’m saying all of this to say, I’m ready for a real relationship and he's not. I love him to death cousin but I can’t anymore…” you say reaching for her cup of wine. “Is that why you didn’t come last year?” Michelle says passing the cup to you “That and, I love LA cousin…I love it. Chicago will always be my home but I just thrive in LA…and I don't do that here, you know?” you say taking a sip of her wine. “I get it, Princess, I'm happy you found somewhere away from all this shit. Just don't forget we're family, It might not be by blood but you’re still my baby cousin” Michelle says, making you laugh. “Always,” you say with a smile

You don't realize you’ve fallen asleep until you’re waking up to Michael’s voice. He’s sitting on an ottoman in the living room, with a gray blanket around his head like a Russian lady’s scarf. Telling the story of how you got your nickname, you sit up so you can hear better. You’ve heard this story a hundred times but you never got tired of listening to it because it was about you.

“And then this little girl with two puffs in her hair in a princess costume comes stomping up the porch steps demanding to see Carmen” Michale says while laughing making a stomping motion while sitting. You smile at his use of the word puffs, something he wouldn't know without you. “And of course, I'm confused I've never seen this kid before and she’s demanding things?” Michael says laughing “So I go to the door to tell her off and I kid you not, seven year old y/n looks me up and down and says, “I said Carmen” The whole living room chuckles including you. Your eyes drift behind Michael to the entrance of the room where Carmen is standing. Once The two of you lock eyes everyone’s voices begin to fade into the background and you can almost barely hear Michael talking about the stink attitude you had as a kid.

“Can we talk?” Carmen mouthes leaning against the entrance. You nod grudgingly and Carmy smiles slightly walking upstairs to his room. You follow behind him in silence internally, cursing yourself for agreeing. Once in his childhood bedroom, you sit awkwardly on the bed that you and Carmen share so many memories in, in your teenage years. “Soooo You wanted to talk?” you say looking around the room trying to avoid the awkward silence. “Um yeah…” Carmen says leaning against his old desk opening a box of cigarettes. “I uhhh…I wanted to say I'm sorry” Carmen says looking down, fidgeting with a cigarette “For all that shit I put you through, with the internship and all the arguing you didn't deserve that,” Carmen says bringing the cigarette to his lips. “I’m glad you finally realized that,” you say slightly irritated.

there's an awkward bit of silence while Carmen digs in his pocket for a lighter making you rethink your tone “I'm sorry…you’re trying to apologize which is rare so ill try to be less of an asshole” you say making Carmen chuckle “but Carmen I hope you know an apology isn't gonna make everything better” You say trying not to sound too much like an ass “then what will” Carmen mumbles “huh?” you ask barely able to hear him “what the fuck can I do to make it better y/n. I miss my best friend…I’v tried to call you, but you got me blocked -“ you cut him off quick “oh my god can cut the fucking act Carmen” you say shaking you head annoyed but his words. ”what act?” He asks his tone slightly rising

“Here you go..” you say rolling your eyes knowing he’s about to start yelling “WHAT FUCKING ACT-“ Carmen yells you cut him off “THE ACT WHERE YOU PRETEND TO ACTUALLY GIVE FUCK” says raising your voice this time. “You don’t get to pretend like all we had was a falling out and now your “ best friend” won’t answer your calls, Carmen you broke my heart… that's why you’re fucking blocked. I don’t want to speak to you! ” you yell feeling yourself get increasingly angry

“YOU FUCKING LEFT ME, I DIDN'T LEAVE YOU!” Carmen yells turning slightly red “YES BECAUSE WE WERN’T GOING ANYWHERE!” You yell “If it were up to you we would be friends with benefits until we're fucking 80!” Carmen goes silent which just makes you angrier “Yeah I’m done,” you say standing up to make your way to the door but are stopped by Carmen grabbing your wrist.

“ I still want us to talk,” he says pulling you away from the door and into him. It had been a long time since you had been that close to him and as much as you didn’t want to admit it you liked it. “What can we talk about that we didn’t already say” you say lowering your voice, the proximity making you slightly nervous.

Carmen’s eyes flicker down to your lips and then back to your eyes “Did I already tell you that I love you” Carmen knows what he's doing so he takes advantage of the situation dropping his grasp from your wrist to your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles soothingly. “It’s not happening Carmen,” you say stepping back while trying to pull your hand from his but he doesn’t let you out of his grasp. “Why not?” He ask pulling you back in the same position as before sounding oblivious to the argument you two had minutes ago. “Because it not gonna change shit, you're going to back to having a blast in New York and I'm gonna go back to doing what I was doing in LA,” you say trying to act unaffected by his touch. He suddenly lets go of your hand and you instantly miss the feeling. “What Do you think I’m doing in New York y/n?” Carmen asks anger slightly lacing his voice

You roll your eyes “So you’re trying to tell me you’re not enjoying yourself at all in New-“ Carmen quickly cut in “-No, no I’m not enjoying myself, I’m fucking miserable. I can’t sleep, I’m throwing

Up all the time-“It was your turn interrupt “ THEN WHY? WHY LEAVE, WHY EVEN FUCKING DO IT!” You yell your anger getting control over you “BECAUSE I CAN’T STAY HERE, MICHAEL DOESN’T WANT ME HERE YOU DON’T WANT ME!” Carmen yells then immediately tries to gain his composure “i dont see why I would stay” Carmen says wiping his face with a frustrated sigh. “I just miss you y/n…I know I would be better with you there” He says looking down at his hands with tired eyes. As much as you wanted to fight it, your heart ached at his words and your subconscious urged you to walk closer. You missed him desperately, and that little wif of his scent that you got earlier was enough for you to break.

Once you closed the gap between you too you started tenderly running your hand through Carmen’s hair like you used to like you used to. His shoulders relaxed and he looked up at you with slightly darker eyes swirling with sadness and desire. You knew what was going to follow and you hated the fact you yearned for it.

You don't know who started the kiss first but you knew it was hungry and passionate. In seconds Carmen had you on your back on the bed with his body on top of you. You two kissed each other like starved animals,” Fuck I missed this” Carmen huffs breaking the kiss to pull off his shirt. You almost moan at the sight of his newly grown muscles. “Prove it,” you say with a wicked smile creeping onto your lips. Carmen doesn't reply right away lips crashing back down on yours. Without breaking the kiss Carmen takes your hand and guides it down the front of his pants. where you feel his hard bulge through his jeans. You gasp at the feeling and you feel Carmen smile against your lips. “Is that proof enough?” he whispers into your ear making shivers run down your spine. Trying not to move too much you fumble with his belt buckle. After a couple of tugs, the belt comes undone and Carmen rips off his pants throwing them in a corner of the room

You pull up your dress bunching it at your waist so Carmen has easy access. He groans at your eagerness which makes your walls clench around nothing. He starts leaving kisses on your kneecap down to your inner thigh making you shiver. “I need to taste you” Carmen groans now looking up at you from between your thighs “We don't have time” you moan out as his kisses get closer and closer to your heat. “I work fast,” Carmen says pulling off your panties in one swift movement “fuck you're so wet” he groans ducking his head down between your thighs. You sink your hand into his hair pulling him up “I need you now!” you say sternly bringing his face closer to yours.

” How badly?”

He groans into your neck making your walls clench around nothing again. “Badly” you breathe out wrapping your arms around Carmen’s neck and pulling him closer. He lets out a low groan looking down between the both of freeing himself from his boxers. Lining himself up with your entrance he wastes no time pushing himself halfway inside you. You let out a loud moan and then quickly brought your hand to your mouth remembering his whole family was Downstairs. Carmen smiles at the reaction pushing himself all the way in. Which made Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the full size of him. you missed how it felt between the two of you when you fucked the LA dick just didn't compare.

“Fuck It’s like you got tighter” Carmen moans starting a steady pace, you wanted to reply but the feeling of him inside was too overpowering. His thrust became deeper and faster and you wonder if he was going to create a new record for how fast you’ve came. “DON’T STOP!” you moan loudly reaching your hand up to touch the headboard. “I won't, I won't ever stop” Carmen groans continuing his thrusts now circling your clit with his hand. You almost see stars at the added sensation “You're squeezing me so fucking tight” Carmen says trying to catch his breath. “Ooo I fucking hate you” you almost scream out feeling your release nearing. “You hate me?” he asks pressing his forehead against yours, you can’t vocally, respond so you know your nod, your head. “No, say it” Carmen groans angryly as he pounds into you. You breathe heavily and try to calm yourself “I hate- OH MY FUCKING GOD!” You cry, you try to gather the words but your orgasm hits you like a truck before you can finish. “If you hated me would have gotten this removed by now” Carmen huffs out dragging his finger over the heart tattoo with a C in it. positioned on the corner of your pelvic area that you got while drunk in college. Carmen keeps fucking you through your orgasm but by the way you're squeezing him you can tell he's not far behind. “I can’t fucking leave this” you hear him mumble before his thrust becomes sporadic. He's quiet until he's close to finishing pushing himself in deep as he can “fuck I'm cumming” Carmen says pumping his seed deep inside you.

~~~~

It's not long after that you quickly get up and put your clothes back on, As he got up to do the same there was an awkward silence that fell on the room. You had this sad feeling weighing on your shoulders and you didn't know how to explain it. but you knew you had to leave. You wonder if the dead silence in the room was actually, awkward or was it only like that because you felt awkward. When you went to the corner of the room to retrieve your panties Carmen finally spoke. “Is something wrong?” he asked slightly irritated with how you were acting. “No, I just don't want anyone to get suspicious,” you say plainly walking out the door now fully dressed leaving him by himself. You go to the bathroom to fix your hair and makeup waiting until you hear Carmen go downstairs before leaving. Once downstairs you sit back down on the couch next to Michelle.

“You smell like sex,” Michelle says leaning over into your ear. “Uggghh” you groan burying your head in your hands making her Laugh “Girl I fucked uppp,” you say face still in your hands. “What’s the issue you don't want to get back together with him?”Michelle asks trying to stifle her laughter. “No, not right now… I got too much shit going on right in LA to let him drag me to New York… And that” you say making a hand gesture upstairs “is gonna make him think I'm going with him” You say getting increasingly stressed. Michelle goes silent for a while before finally talking “You gotta tell him Princess” she says giving you a sad smile “You right I-”

You cut yourself off realizing that there’s a conversation going on around you. Quickly you gather that the conversation between Lee and Michael has become serious. “I’m sorry?” Michael asks confused “The story…we’ve heard it a million times,” Lee says gesturing to the people in the room “No Lee, like you have…and cousin has,” Michael says gesturing to Richie behind him, “I haven't” cousin Michelle says raising her hand “Me neither” you say raising your hand too even though you probably had “ I have but I like it” fak brother chimes in

“It's a good story,” Fak says nodding, trying to de-escalate the situation. “Yeah Lee chill out or fuck off let us tell the fucking story,” Richie says readjusting himself in the chair, annoyed “ANYWAYS, after finding the ATM-” Riche starts but is cut off by Lee “-no I’ll finish it. I’ll finish it! You sold the car and then at the end, you find the horse” Lee says with a proud shit-eating grin. “Ass hole” you mumble under your breath, shaking your head in annoyance. “Good for you Lee that's… that's great, you’re like a real genuine fucking asshole,” Michael says looking up at him annoyed. “B-Because I cut off the story you told a million times? Why don’t you finish your business plan?” Lee says well, moving the glass of whiskey back and forth in his hand. “Now You're doing too much,” you say followed by Richie “All right that’s enough!” Fiche says trying to end the conversation. “Come on, you're veering,” Michelle says trying to reason with Lee “Where's that tomato sauce prospectus, Michael?” he asks doubling down. “Come on Lee cut it” you try to say sternly seeing Michael stare off dazed in the distance. “Where’s the frozen pizza plan?-”

“What's wrong with you?” you ask watching Lee persistently poke “What's wrong with me? What's wrong with him h-” Michelle tries to cut him off again “You're veering!” she yells again trying to shut Lee up. “That's ahhh…. that’s enough,” Richie says uncomfortably glancing over at Michael. Uncle Jimmy, walks in a part of you relaxes hoping the conversation will lighten. “Hi unc,” Michelle says with a light voice, hoping to switch the vibe in the room. “Hey, hunny,” he says, with a smile. You give a small wave “Nice to see you princess” There’s an awkward beat of silence “fucks going on in here…” Jimmy says looking around the room.

“This jackoff talking shit,” Michael says looking down and you roll your eyes at the possibility of another argument “Which jackoff,” Unc asks readjusting his glasses “This jackoff,” Lee says pointing to himself. You had to physically stop yourself from saying “At least he knows it”

“What about jackoff?” Uncle Jimmy asks still confused. “About how like I don't finish shit…” Michael says starting to trail off “Not stories he finishes those…over and over,” Lee says with a drunk smile.

“Mikey, come on….” Uncle Jimmy says giving him a weak shrug. you know they’re right, but you can’t help but suck your teeth. Pete walks into the room sounding like Santa Claus talking about a tuna delivery with a square metal pan, in his hand. You physically cringe at the idea of it being fish “ Mikey what is up bro” Pete says smiling, repeatedly, tapping Michael on the shoulder in an awkward kid-like manner.

“You know it’s seven fishes right Pete?” Michael asks looking up at the metal pan in his hand. “Yeah… that's why I brought this” Pete says pointing to the pan with a smile. “That’s the eighth fish bro,” Michelle says knowingly. You don’t even chime in knowing poor Pete, was about to get chewed alive “What we can’t have one more?” he says smiling and looking around the room awkwardly. “That makes absolutely no sense. I can’t even figure out the logic of that” Lee says continuing to Dick eat. “What?” Pete says with an awkward laugh, looking around the room. “You're so fucked” Uncle Jimmy laughs giving him a tight-lipped smile.

Carmen walks into the room to tell everybody that dinner is ready “Family come on let’s sit Dinners ready!” Carmen says, clapping his hands trying to get everybody up. “HEY, no way carmy, what’s up brother?” Pete says putting his arm around Carmen awkwardly. “Hey, hey- woah woah woah, what is that? What is that?” Carmen says pointing to the metal pan in Pete's hand “Don't tell him” Michelle says from the couch You don’t say anything hoping Carmen didn’t notice you on the couch. “It's nothing, it's nothing,” Pete says trying to play it off. “S-stevie what is that, What is it?” Carmen asked Stevie from the couch “You’re going to be upset, but his heart was in the right place Carm” Stevie said, with a tight, lipped smile. “It’s a tuna casserole,” Lee says from behind Carmen and you actually have to stop yourself from laughing because he resembles a demon hiding over his shoulder like that. “It's seven fishes, Pete,” Carmen says and you can you can already tell he’s about to blow. “ I know….they didn’t communicate,” Pete says sadly ” This would make eight fishes, That- That would make us assholes right?” Carmen asked the vein in his neck starting to protrude the more he spoke. “Why are you doing this to me?” Carmen asks irritated

looking up at him. “Ok I-” Pete starts “DON’T LET HER FUCKING SEE IT,” Carmen says walking away. You feel a little bad after watching the scene unfold knowing that Carmen was probably taking out some of the anger you caused on poor Pete. You watch as Sugar greets Pete grabbing the tin pan from him and throwing it outside.

~~~~

Right before the dinner starts, you catch Michael in the hallway upstairs while you’re looking for the phone you left in Carm's room. “Hey Mikey,” you say giving him a slightly sad smile thinking of the conversation in the living room. “Hey sis,” Michael says with a smile like he's trying to hide the fact that he‘d been crying. The sad look on his face physically pains you and walk over to give him a big hug. “You know I love you to

the moon back right?” you say tightening the hug. You feel Michael nod and you smile. “Don’t let Lee piss you off, he was doing way too much” you say finally releasing him from the hug, walking over to the steps.

You sit on the top stair and gesturing for Michael to sit too. He does sit back some so you both can fit. “I'm not worried about that prick” Michael scoffs readjusting himself. “It's ok to be…he said some fucked up shit,” you say looking over at him. “I’m not though,” Michael says sternly. Silence fills the room for a moment as you carefully think your next words. “Michael I know You might think that no one sees you but I want you to know I do…” You look over at him for a response, He doesn’t say anything so you continue “ I'm not going to lie and act like I know what you’re struggling with…but I know you. And I know you’re hurting I-” he cuts you off “-I am fine princess I promise” Michael says, trying to laugh it off

“Michael I'm dead fucking serious,” you say looking him in his slightly glossy eyes. “ I don’t want to see the end up like my mom….I see it in you're eyes that fogginess, the sadness. I don't care what time of day it's or how you think I will see you, You fucking call me ok” you say feeling your eyes begin to well up with tears “shit I’m not supposed to be crying” you laugh wiping your tears and look up to see Michael eyes starting to do the same. “I just really don't want you to die,” you say trying to wipe your tears as you speak but they keep coming. Michael elopes you into a big hug “I'm not going anywhere Princess” he says his voice breaking slightly. You feel his warm tears drop on your shoulder and enjoy the fact that Michael feels secure enough to cry with you. When you two are done crying on each other Michael pulls back and you wipe your eyes with the back of your hand “You smell like sex” Michael says plainly causing you to laugh, small tears still dropping from your eyes. “Yeah me and Carmen…” you say trailing off “I gathered,” Michael says laughing hard which made you feel better.

You calm yourself down taking a deep breath before speaking “Well before I started crying, I was trying to tell you, if you ever miss me or need somewhere to crash or you even just want a change of scenery. You can come to visit me at My place in LA because….I'll be there permanently” you say nervously waiting for his reaction. “Do you like it over there?” Michael asks the corner of his lip twitching down. “Love it,” you say with a small smile. “Then I’m happy for you,” he says with a sad smile.

“You’re the first person I told,” you say letting out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding in. “Not even Carmy?” Michael asks raising his eyebrow. “Not even Carmy,” you say shaking your head. “Michael! Y/N WHERE WAITING!” you hear someone yell from downstairs. “ I meant what I said Michael call me, I sent you the address already,” you say sitting up, walking down the stairs to the dining room, “I’M SERIOUS!” you yell out from the bottom of the step.

Author note : GUYS FEEL FREE TO COMMENT I LOVE READING YALLS OPINIONS🤭

[pinkyjulien]

Adressing the Dino Tattoo Fix situation that is already slipping into an unecessary drama for no reasons!

This mod is a collab between me and @lokiina, who did the art

Dino's tattoo texture is cut and the mesh UVs aren't properly ligned to suit a shirtless appearance; this is why this mod exist, to create a more logical/accurate look for his tattoo.

Here's how it looks normally:

You can notice the tattoo packed in our mod is different; Both the texture and mesh were edited, Lokii painted the tattoo and I created a new mesh that fits Dino's body and arms.

Using the custom tattoo from our mod on the original mesh gives this broken look, because the UVs doesn't match:

This broken look is what I saw recently on someone's post; I did not notice it as first, helping OP in the post's replies and giving them pointers on how to fix Dino's mesh.

A second post came and that's where I picked it up, telling the OP that I would've prefered them asking before unbundling our mod (a mod that already fix what they're trying to fix) and using the texture for their own mod; which is ok, in the case of NPC+ (custom made Dino) for example!

Seeing more of OP's posts, I want to say;

Please let modders know when their mods potentially break!

Seeing someone taking it upon themselves to fix something you're not even aware broke doesn't feel good, especially when the mod works just fine actually!

The problem lies in a conflict with AMM now being packed with their own Dino tattoo fix:

This mod is entirely different from Lokii and I's mod!

It does NOT include the same texture, nor the same mesh; using both mod WILL result in a wonky looking tattoo!

And it annoys me to already see people accusing us of "giving shit to someone who just wanted to fix a mod"

I'm more than glad to help anyone with their modding questions, or with feedback/bug reports; also happy to teach anyone who'd wish to try and fix the problem themselves! But at least let us know of the problem in the first place and ask us about potentially using the custom-made/fixed assets in your own mod.

Nobody is giving shit to anyone, this is just a big misunderstanding in a fandom that is too quick and excited to misinterpret and escalate any situation.

I'm only making this public post because this situation sadly is public and people already got their hands into it.

[spyridonya]

Ok, how about 10. cantankerous for the one word writing prompts 👀

Because Kadira would wave a sword in an emergcy, Hulrun does not die but is no longer Prelate. If Hulrun is so deeply respected because of his ability to fight demons, he'd be more well suited returning to military service.

The appearance of General Hulrun made Kadira's insides curl into black ice as she fixed her gaze upon her unwelcome visitor as he entered the War Room. Only the gods knew what she looked like right now, she had been going over files and directives with the Paralictor for several hours now. Knowing herself, the stress made her look like the bedraggled little girl running around with a shimmering sword trapped within her that likely saved someone's life upon her second introduction to Hulrun.

Relax your forehead, let it soften, ease the shoulders - he smells fear. She reminded herself, lectured herself, and told herself that she’s fought worse. 

However, as she looked at the scowl embedded in the features, the scars deepening the furrows and rags, most creatures she fought did not answer to Queen Galfrey with the adoration and fervor of a paladin to their god.

Hulrun, to his credit, waited until Kadira lifted her head from her work entire before he strode across from the entrance to her side, standing adjacent to her and towering in his superiority he wore like armor. "I have reason to believe that despite the graces that you hold with her Majesty and the Inheritor, that you are aiding and abiding a trailer in your midst."

Dear Gods and Shelyn's patience, her relays to the front were going to be derailed with this nonsense? The irritation bubbled under her skin as she lifted her chin higher, still reminding herself to relax with her posture. She had known the very moment that the former Prelate had arrived with Galfrey that something would come up.

"Prelate-" Perhaps pacifying him would-

"General," The correction is sharp, not quite a bark, and the furrow of heavy silvering brows deepens the crease of his bold battle scars. 

You fought a man made entirely of locusts. Kadira reminded herself as she fixed her gaze on the old man and allowed silence to slip between them before she began, again. "Forgive me for asking, but yet another traitor? If I recall, Nurah Dendiwhar was vouched for by the Inquisition, which was surely a mistake. I can understand during the chaos of Kenabras' siege that others might have also slipped past the organizations usually impeccable standards."

The words are not hers, and yet they are. The sharp edge that underlays the civility of her words to make them impatient, cutting, perhaps even cruel. The hypocrisy of it all had struck her on the nose, despite it always being there, and the man going back to his witch-hunting ways the moment he stepped into her city despite the honors granted to him was unpardonable.

Hulrun stares at her like the scruffy tiefling that she was, and not the beloved of angels, almost attempting to remind of her true place. But his temper is too quick and his demeanor too curmudgeon for it to simmer properly and implant doubt in Kadira's mind when he speaks, "You would very well know, you were the one to abide he and his cultists’ escape into the ruins of Kenabras."

Oh, Callrista's Balls.

"The worship of Desna has been documented well before the Age of Darkness and her church has existed in various forums for all but perpetuity." An irony, considering the goddess and her fleeting nature, "They are by no means a cult and within my investigation of the Wardstones, by personally speaking to the angels that agreed to be bound there, Ramien and his keep did nothing to corrupt the wardstone."

"Dear girl-" He began.

"Knight Commander."

"Knight Commander, you were not there when the Red Morning Massacre happened-"

No. But my grandmother had to scramble with her family into horse stalls and their manure out of sheer abject horror, because she saw the results of what happens when demons don't kill. She's dust and spirit now, old man.

"-when Minagho spilled blood of innocent on the Wardstone-"

"Well, obviously the Wardstone wasn't much helpful if Minagho was able to breach into Kenabras." She cut in quickly, a part of her ashamed for correcting an elder, another part reminding herself she was an elder. "I don't see how the blood could have made things worse, she was already inside."

The older man blinked hard, those white whiskers quivering with indignation and mild shock. How often did he tell this story to the Inquisitors? Was this the first time someone pointed out the inconsistency of that story to him?

"He is still guilty of breaking and entering, Knight Commander." His tone is sharp as a knife, and Kadira felt pressure behind her temples. "As such-"

"And as such, he was made Prelate when you were made a General, seeing he is the highest ranking Priest that managed to live through the siege. If you have disagreements with his placement, Queen Galfrey is in Drezen, as you well know. I am not to give up a guest, regardless if Ramien was Prelate or not. Hospitality is an ancient rite, far older than Desna or Iomeade, and I will not break it because you disagree with your Queen."

There was a twitch in his eyebrow. "I see." He didn’t see, Kadira knew that he couldn’, but Kadira also knew he was loyal to Galfrey in all things. "I will... I will speak to her majesty and return to you when time permits."

The general turned on his heel, his boots clacked sharply on the floor of the headquarters, his gaze flashing black at Regill who watched silently the entire time, and strode out of the War Room with the red of his cloak trailing after him.

At the sound of the door shutting behind him, Kadira felt her body completely relax as a sigh left her, as if strings were cut on a puppet. Her forehead hit the table and her vision was veiled by her hair for a moment.

"May I inquire with you, Commander?" The heavier tones of Regill's voice was almost like a blessing as she turned her head against the table, her eyes falling upon the Paralictor who sat not quite at her current level.

"Yes," No, not really. But she was remarkably proud that Regill hadn't slide in like a knife into the brief conversation. He tended to do so in more informal occasions, but within the war room he waited before committing verbal vivisection of someone in Galfrey's court. 

(Both he and Daeran shared that lovely hobby, but never managed to bond over it.)

"Does Hulrun truly expect you to believe he witnessed an event that occurred when I was not quite middle aged?" The gnome retains his hawklike sharpness, the disdain set more by brows and tone than truly changing his expression. "An event Queen Galfrey was not yet quite a woman for?"

Kadira shrugged, though she supposed with her almost prone position of her cheek against the table made it hard to see. Rather, she lifted her hands and mimicked the gesture. "My grandmother was still a girl and hadn't met my grandfather. It was a threat she'd give me and my cousins if we didn't behave properly. ‘If you don’t stop climbing those walls, Kadira Staradottir, Minagho is going to splash your innards on the statute of Iomedae!’" She paused for a moment to think, “I believe the former Prelate is only a few years younger than me, chronologically speaking. I'm surprised you're not questioning his sanity."

"I'm questioning his efficiency in his methods of discipline,." Regill dryly answered, turning back to his paperwork.

Somehow, Kadira thinks, that's even worse.

[alloftimeandspacetosee]

A Snowpoint Wedding, Part1

In which I very much just rewrote a roleplay one of the cowriters and I did to make it work better for me

(despite my misgivings about how likely Jay is to actually get married but it's fiiiiine she feels she gotta)

[2] [3]

~

 I smooth the dress out and step out from behind the screen. “Um… does that look alright?”

 Mam looks up first and smiles, eyes bright with tears. “Oh, Jay… you look lovely!”

 “Still reckon my dress was better,” Joanna says, but she nods.

 Mam purses her lips, shooting Joanna a glare.

 “How ‘bout you get changed?” I say quickly, moving towards the chair in front of the mirror. “Your dress is waiting back there.”

 “What is it, a jynx?” Joanna shudders, moving past.

 I snort. “Now there’s an idea.”

 Mam takes up the hairbrush and attacks my thick mane. I just sit there and grit my teeth as she rips out tugs. It isn’t as bad as it could have been, possibly to do with the fact that it’s still slightly damp from the shower.

 “Bit dark for a wedding, isn’t it?”

 “Just put it on,” I call back.

 Mam puts down the brush and hurries behind the screen, eliciting a yell from Joanna. “Oh hush, you’ll need help doing up the back.”

 I gingerly apply makeup, wishing Candice could be here to do it for me. But she’d shown me how it would look best, and I could emulate it… hopefully.

 “Take off the jewellery as well,” mam says.

 “Ok, the necklace, the metal bracelet, and the claw, fine… but I’m keeping the berry bracelet and my wedding ring.”

 “I wasn’t suggesting you take that off,” mam retorts, bustling back out and returning to fix up my hair.

 “Is it just me, or is this dress warm?” Joanna steps out in a dress with a lilac torso and a shimmering blackberry-blue panelled skirt.

 “Volcarona scales in the bodice. Figured you’d appreciate it.” I shot her a smile via the mirror, finishing off the mascara.

 “Ooh… nice.” She grabs the brush, pulling it through her own hair once or twice. “Should’ve redone the highlights…”

 Mam’s lips thin as she starts small plaits in my hair, threading beads and feathers onto them.

 “Still got time, I think?”

 “I don’t have the stuff with me.” Joanna shrugs, putting the brush down.

 “It works quite well faded, anyway.”

 Mam puts the last band in and turns to pick up the circlet from its place on top of the veil. I offer my reflection a tight smile and stand up.

 “I… I don’t have to put on makeup, do I?” Joanna eyes the table with trepidation.

 “Not if you don’t want to.” I shake my head. “Not like anyone’s going to be looking at you, anyway.”

 Joanna laughs, watching as my mam sets the circlet on my head. I pull the gloves – fancy arm warmers, really – up to my elbows, slipping the loops over my middle fingers and making sure they’re lying right. Mam fusses for a moment getting the veil to lie right across my head and down my back, and then there’s a knock at the door.

 “Is everyone ready?” Dad calls through it.

 “Yes,” I reply, gesturing for Joanna to open it.

 She catches up her cloak – not her usual one, a far smarter one – and opens the door.

 Dad says nothing, just stares at us. I smile at him, stepping out of the dressing room towards him.

 “You look beautiful,” he breathes, taking my arm.

 I shift to properly hug him. “Thank you.” I rest my chin on his shoulder, pressing my nose into his neck.

 “Jay, dear, try not to mess the two of you.”

 “I’m not,” I reply, releasing my father. “Shall we?”

 He smiles back, and leads us down the corridor.

 Pie is waiting by the door, and erects a bubble shield around us as we leave the building.

 My pack is waiting there, and form a secondary escort just outside of the forcefield as we walk to the temple. Venus slips through the forcefield to Joanna’s side, sleek and wearing a smart collar. Vulp is not far behind her, looking primped and preened, with a lopsided tiara of her own looped around one ear.

 Candice and Molly are waiting on the temple steps, and I am not quick enough to stop Molly from squealing and flinging her arms around me, near clouting me in the head with her bouquet of flowers.

 “Ok – thanks,” I gasp, hugging her in return.

 Candice passes Joanna a bunch of smoky red flowers to contrast with Molly’s light blue ones. “The small flower girls are waiting inside. They got cold.”

 “Thanks.” I smile at her, taking the bouquet of white flowers – lilies, snow drops – that she passes me.

 “Don’t trip.” She grins. “Come on, Joy.”

 The two of them enter the temple.

 I take a breath, steadying my nerves. This was stupid. I couldn’t be getting nervous at this, could I?

 “Any worries?” Joanna murmurs from behind me. “You know I could always call Whitetip or Flare, and you could make a run for it.”

 “Where would I run to?”

 “Anywhere. You could go free, live however you like.”

 My dad places a hand on the door. “Ready?”

 I nod. “I am. Livin’ how I like. We’re free. I can do this.”

 Dad pushes open the door and holds his arm out for mine. I slip my arm through the crook of his elbow and walk with him down the aisle, Joanna and Molly – and two smaller girls, the flower girls I assume – following us.

 The temple is warmer than usual. There are tapestries hanging between the arches, candles in sconces – I think a few might actually be litwick – and a carpet underfoot. Not even starting on the flowers.

 The music that is cascading through the hall is about the only reason I can keep walking. The walk seems long, far longer than I ever remember it being in the practices.

 But Jayden is waiting, with Alyss beyond him and Henry to his side. He’s watching Alyss just now, not the aisle. My dad’s hand on my arm is probably the only thing keeping me from speeding up, from getting this over with.

 He’s wearing a blue suit with a red shirt, I see as he turns. He raises his hands, allowing me to see the feather cufflinks. Braviary.

 “Oh, braviary, nice,” Joanna says quietly behind me.

 I meet Jayden’s eyes properly, and smile as I notice that the bird keeper calm has not been enough to stop the awe and wonder transfix his face as we walk closer.

 Dad pulls us to a halt opposite Jayden and leaves for his seat.

 “Oh, they look perfect, don’t they!”  Molly squeaks, tugging Joanna into place behind me.

 Alyss laughs silently for a moment before assuming her ‘elder face’ and waiting for everyone to calm down. The flower girls giggle, swinging their baskets from side to side before running to the side. The music slows to an aching finish and leaves us in silence.

 I smile at Jayden, lifting the veil away from my face awkwardly, trying to keep the flowers from going everywhere.

 “Welcome, Snowpoint.” Alyss’ voice is strong and confident, a far cry from the teenage elder I first knew. “Welcome, those of Mistralton.” She dips her head to Jayden’s family and friends. “And, of course, welcome to Lavaridge.” She looks to Joanna briefly before raising her head to gaze over the entirety of the temple.

 I don’t look back, fearing to see exactly how many people had turned up.

 “Welcome to Snowpoint, welcome to this binding.”

 Jayden hasn’t quite managed to stop staring yet. I try not to fiddle with the flowers in my hands too much.

 “These two swear now, before everyone here, to fly true with each other, sail before whatever wind may guide their path, and work together for the same purpose.”

 I smile. These amended vows worked so much better than the originals.

 “But they have not sworn it yet,” Brith says from behind me, and though I knew that it was going to happen, I still tense up. “I contest this right, as they have yet to speak a word before us.”

 I force myself to relax. All normal, all was fine. Of course it was.

 “I swear it, now.” Jayden finally tears his eyes from my face to look past me, to Brith. “I swear to fly true, sail before the wind, and work with Jay, always, for our joint purpose.”

 “You hear it?” Brith asks.

 “We hear it,” the crowd rumbles back.

 As their noise dies away, I hear Molly hushing Joanna.

 “Then they have sworn and I witness true to keep their sails straight.” Brith pads forward to stand at Alyss’ side.

 She is wearing a band of silver on her head, from which thin chains trial down to wrap thin blue feathers around her aura sensors, matching the ones that hang from her ears. I bite back most of the gasp, but part still escapes me and I see Brith twitch a small smile.

 “Only one has yet sworn.” Soise steps from the shadows behind Jayden. “I call you, NightGale, make good on the oath this man has already sworn to you.”

 Her usual pink scarf has been set aside in favour of a circlet like Brith’s and a silver tracery that holds her mane in place. Blue feathers hang from her ears and lie across her face like fine tattoos.

 I lick dry lips. My turn. “Then I swear it.” I lift my head, looking past Jayden to meet Soise’s eyes. “I swear to fly true, sail before the wind and work with Jayden for ever purpose we see fit to pursue.”

 Soise turns to the crowd, raising her arms. “You hear it?”

 “We hear it.”

 “Then I, too, witness that they have sworn, and I will keep their words straight with you.” Soise turns to Brith and Alyss, bowing.

 “And now they have sworn before you all,” Alyss says, calling the attention back easily as Soise steps to stand beside her, “We hold them before Rayquaza, Lord of our Town, and Articuno, Queen of the Ice. May these travellers be blessed by winds and weather ever fair to their needs.”

 As Jayden and I turn back to face each other, two altaria – one sparkling gold, the other resplendent in blue – swoop down from the arched roof above us, holding a sail carefully between them.

 Molly and Henry step forward to take the sail, bowing to the two altaria as they land.

 Jayden and I step back to give them space to walk to Alyss. Nestled in the centre of the sail are the rings, one dark blue and the other light blue – a braviary’s colouring and an altaria’s.

 Alyss takes them and Molly and Henry step back to their places, Molly expertly folding the sail. She passes the dark blue one to Jayden and the light blue one to me. We step closer, and Jayden takes my left hand first. Without speaking a word, he slips the ring onto my finger, where it fits perfectly. I do the same for him, and the altaria take off.

 The crowd gasps as the air around us is suffused with a soft blue light and above us – above us, an altaria and a braviary are circling, dancing.

 “Rayquaza sees your bond,” Alyss speaks up, “And holds you to keep true through the rest of your lives.”

 “We will never break the bond that we have sworn.” Jayden and I speak together. “We will hold it as high as the skies, letting it rest with the one who guides our paths.”

 The birds above us lock claws and dive straight for us.

 “Holy Groudon,” Joanna says, but I can see Soise grinning, and so I stand firm.

 The birds dive and, as they reach us, they fade and disintegrate into confetti that disappears as it lands.

 “They are bound now, by word and by sky to hold this forever. It is – well done.” Alyss nods and bows.

 The big stained glass window behind her – showing Uxie and Rayquaza appearing to the first settlers – erupts with light, throwing shards of colour through the temple. The smaller windows were lit up as well, but through the big one the silhouettes of two dragonite can be seen, twisting together.

 And music ekes out into the hall once more and swells, and Jayden steps back with a gesture for me to spin. I spread my arms – my wings – and twirl.

 The crowd applauds, and Venus lets loose a volley of sparks. Jayden catches me and I lean into his chest, smiling as I catch sight of Joanna, crossing her arms across her chest in the Lavaridge way.

 “To the hall?” Jayden asks, kissing my temple.

 Alyss nods. “Lead the way.”

 “Thank you, Alyss.” I smile at her. “Really.”

 “My pleasure.” She bows.

 Most people are still in their seats, and only shift once we’re past them. Pie is waiting by the door with Elise, and she shields us once again as we leave the temple, stepping away down the cleared walkways to the hall.

[kindleappkeepscrashing]

Wi-Fi Woes with Your Kindle? Here's How to Fix Connection Issues

Many readers now giving preference reading ebooks. You can also use the Amazon Kindle to read your favorite books. Most of the time you can use the Kindle easily but sometimes there is the issue of the Kindle won’t connect to wifi. It occurs because Kindle needs fast and strong and there is also an issue with your router or ISP. Sometimes readers enable their airplane mode to save the battery so it also becomes the cause of this error. When you are using the low version of your Kindle, the issue will occur. It is vital to solve the issue of Kindle won’t connect to wifi.

Methods to Fix Kindle Won’t Connect To Wifi

It is also important to use the best methods to fix the Kindle won’t connect to wifi. You can also follow all the steps correctly so you can quickly solve the issue and start reading books again.

Turn off Airplane Mode

Many users use different ways to increase the battery life of their Kindle devices. They also use airplane mode to enhance the battery life but they forget to disable it after reading the books. It is also crucial to disable airplane mode to solve the problem of Kindle won’t connect to wifi. It is a simple process, and you need to go to Quick Menu. Here, you can navigate to settings > wireless > airplane mode. It is now necessary to disable airplane mode.

Restart Kindle Device

Kindle won't connect to WiFi when airplane mode is disabled. You must restart your Kindle device. It takes only a few minutes to restart. It has a power button that users can find. You can now hold it for a few seconds. Once this is done, you can check if the issue is solved or not. To fix the error, you can try another method.

Update Kindle Firmware

A firmware update is also necessary for the Kindle. Various issues on the device are automatically fixed when users install the latest update. By making it easier to use, users can get more out of their Kindles. Check these steps for updating the firmware of Kindle.

First, there is a need to connect your Kindle device to your laptop or computer.

Here you can go to its software page and check the available latest software.

It is also vital to enter the model number and tap on it.

After this downloading process will start and move the file to the Kindle device.

Now you can go to the menu on Kindle and open the settings.

There is a need to choose to update the Kindle.

Here you can tap on Ok.

Restart Your Internet Network

When the issue of Kindle won’t connect to wifi is not solved there is a need to restart your wifi network. You can follow these steps to restart your wifi device.

There is a need to turn off your router and modem.

Here you can disconnect the power cable from the power outlet.

Now wait for a few minutes and again connect the power cord.

You can turn the modem and router on.

After this, you can wait for a few seconds so the LED light stop flashing.

Now you can check whether the issue of Kindle won’t connect to wifi is solved or not.

Wrap Up

You can use the above methods to solve the problem of Kindle won’t connect to wifi. It is also vital for users to check that their internet network is working properly. If it is not working, there is a need to contact your ISP.

[izzyizumi]

{D I G I M O N} Adventure/02/tri. ~ Japanese Version + F a m i l i e s (+Favorite F a m i l i e s) + Head-canons + Canon A d o p t e d Characters ~ K o u s h i r o[u] I z u m i x Taichi Yagami {KouTai} / {TaiKou} / {Taishiro[u]} + IZUMI F a m i l y: (Kae* Izumi + Masami Izumi) [*Note: Mrs Izumis name can also be read in Japanese as “Yoshie”; “Kae” is overall still a f a n o n n i c k-n a m e, as Mrs. Izumi’s first name has never been spoken aloud either within the script or within recorded interviews.] + YAGAMI F a m i l y (Yuuko Yagami + Susumu Yagami) [*Taichi also canonically has a living G r a n d m o t h e r according to Adventure Episode 21′s dialogues + Grandparents according to Adventure 2020]

{+We don’t know exactly WHO, EITHER Taichi or Koushiro m a r r y...}

Bonus i.m.g.s and usage detail under the cut! {Contains light spoilers for 02 ending + Our War Game}

Edit by @izzyizumi / koushirouizumi / hikari-m {Do Not Re-p o s t} {Do Not C o p y} {Do Not Remove Caption} {Do Not Re-produce My Work Under Any Circumstances Without My Permission Whatsoever!} [*Including for @.I. Usages] (A S K to Use!)

BONUS:

{ PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS POST IF YOU ARE LGBTQIAPN+phobic in ANY WAY } [ Please read my “about” and “FAQ” pages for more on this. ] {IF I NOTICE OTHERWISE, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. DON’T DO IT.} 

[This post is meant purely as fun headcanons. Please be respectful !]

[mari-the-bimbo]

Hii! Congratulations on reaching 5K! I literally live for your fics. Can I request some Bodyguard Megumi please? Like, a late night driving and eating McDonald's or something like this scenario please. I hope you have a wonderful day and congratulations again!

Bodyguard Megumi: late night McDonald’s

A/N: Thank you love!! <3 Extra kisses for you for requesting bodyguard Megumi!!

“MEGUMI PLEASEEE“

“No”

“Im saying please!!!” You complained, pouting at the handsome raven haired bodyguard who focused on the road ahead. The moonlight highlighting his handsome features.

He glances at you for a second, “There’s food at home”

You scoff at him, “Ok andd??”

“It’s nearly night time now and you should go home and sleep” he spoke firmly, furrowing his eyebrows at you, which you knew was an indirect warning to not test his patience any further.

You sighed in annoyance, slouching in your seat. “Ok mom” you mocked, looking at him from the corner of your eye to see if you got a reaction out of him. A smirk emerging on your face when you noticed his dark eyes connect with yours, giving you an unimpressed look.

You sit back up in your passenger seat, ready to convince him again, “but who cares if it’s late at night Megumi! It’s not like it’s dangerous, after all I got you right?” You say, grabbing his forearm, that was adorned with prominent veins.

He turns his attention towards you, but he regretted it the second he was met with your big puppy eyes staring up at him and a smile on your cute plush lips, causing him to grip the steering wheel tighter.

How could he say no to you now?

He quickly looks away from you and attempts to focus on the road, but he sighs tiredly, knowing he was giving in, like he always does when it comes to you.

And with another sigh, he pulled into the drive thru, biting his lip to hide his smile when he heard you cheer.

———

Megumi’s dark eyes were fixed on you as he watches you devour the burger with no intent to even chew it first. His eyebrows furrowing in concern.

You felt his stare, but you were so used to him staring at you for long periods of time, it no longer bothered you.

Well that was until you felt a slender hand grab your jaw. “chew properly y/n” he sternly ordered.

“I am!” You muffled, making him tsk at you.

“No you’re not, you’re eating like a gremlin” he gruffly says, his finger brushing away the crumbs from the corner of your mouth.

You playfully try to bite his finger, but Megumi was too quick, swiftly squishing your cheeks roughly with his large hands, preventing you from biting him.

“You’re gonna be the death of me” he mutters, as he continues to squish your cheeks with a blank stare, despite your muffled protests, finally letting go once you tapped out.

He shakes his head when you immediately turn back to your burger, too eager to finish it rather than argue with Megumi.

You hear his tsk again, causing you to look up and glare at the raven haired bodyguard once again, but your eyes widen as he leans into you, and you feel his hot breath near your face as he moves your hair away from your face.

You can’t help but feel your skin burn in fluster as his large hands work to hold your hair back like a hair tie. His pale thin finger tangled in your strands.

You didn’t realise in your state of embarrassment, you had stopped eating your burger, causing Megumi to stare at you again.

“Oi, finish your food, or do I need to feed you too?” He says, catching your attention, but before you can return a witty remark, one of his hands detangle from your hair and picks up your burger, pressing it against your lips.

Your mouth opens in surprise, leading to the sorcerer shoving the burger into your mouth, you eat it nevertheless.

As you munch on the burger, you stare up at him in surprise, only to see him already looking at you, like always. His dark blue eyes bore into your own unnervingly.

You looked so pretty with the street lamps in the empty car park illuminating your features, it made Megumi completely forget how it was rude to stare.

“You not gonna eat?” You say, breaking the silence, holding up a chicken nugget near him, but he silently shakes his head.

“Not hungry” he mutters, “just wanna make sure you’re eating properly” he adds softly, causing your heart to skip a beat. You smile at the sorcerer sweetly.

But as he opens up his mouth again to say some honourable shit, you shove the nugget into his mouth, making his eyes widen as he munches on it confusedly, before glaring at you.

“You little-“

But his insults die in his throat as he feels you press a kiss onto his cheek. It’s warm and soft.

“Thank you for the food Megumi” you giggle, making him already think of ways to cover the blush that will appear now.

“Although it’s much more fun when you’re not being such a granny!” You add with a cheeky smile, causing the usually stoic grump bodyguard to return his own small smile.

You were… cute sometimes.

Cute enough to make Megumi wanna do this more often.

[maybege]

Ok for the smutty fic prompts! 118 + 153, with Ex con! Paz? cause you made me yearn for this man🥺

Heat Waves - Part 2

Summary: The heat wave continues and so does yours and Paz’s situation-ship.

Pairing: neighbour!ex con!Paz Vizsla x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 3.2k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: explicit sexual content, dom!Paz, sub!Reader, fingering (f receiving), size kink, oral fixation, slight choking, dirty talk, degradation, comeplay, unprotected sex, just lots of filth,

Prompts: #118 “If you can't sleep … how about we have sex?” + #153 “You have no idea how much I want you.”

It’s been weeks since I touched anything fanfiction related but this was a fun distraction for tonight. I hope you are all doing well and enjoy this piece! Please please please let me know what you thought in a comment or a reblog ❤️ all the love, may (also tagging what I think is your new account? @lillefersken)

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

The heat just would not stop.

At this point you were sure no one could expect anyone to function properly when the city and the entire coast had been bathed in tropical temperatures for almost two weeks now- You hated it. It did not feel like you could rest properly, like you could sleep, like you could breathe. And even the occasional cold shower only made you feel worse.

A quick look on your phone told you it was three am. And the party in one of the apartments a few floors down made no sign of stopping. You groaned in frustration, debating whether it would be best to close the windows and get some much-needed quiet or leave them open and not get boiled alive.

The worst thing was that you weren’t even sure if the open windows were helping. Air circulation, you had read somewhere, was your best friend when it came to heat waves like these. But for that to work the air needed to move and by now you were convinced that that hadn’t happened in the last 72 hours.

“Chug! Chug! Chug!”

Were you too old to start crying from sleep deprivation and frustration?

No, your brain decided and you clenched your jaw, willing yourself to just keep it together.

Tomorrow is a brand new day, just take a deep breath. Tomorrow is a brand new –

“C’mon Dreks, give the girl a kiss!”

Stars fucking damnit would they never shut up?

You could hear a window creak. “For fuck’s sake people are trying to sleep!” someone shouted and you smiled when you immediately recognized the voice, “It’s three in the fucking morning, tone it fucking down!”

Silence.

You breathed a sigh of relief, leaning back into your pillow and making the mental note to thank Paz tomorrow. That would offer you the perfect opportunity to maybe drop by and bring him a coffee or maybe a self-made sandwich? You smiled into the pillow at the thought of spending time with him again.

After the rather spontaneous … night that had resulted from him offering (and actually) fixing your sink, you had barely seen him through no fault of your own – or his for that matter. With Paz getting the night shift at the construction site and you busy working at the bistro and chasing after all the tips you could get to finally sign up for that writing course, your schedules simply … hadn’t aligned.

But now that he had managed to silence that torturous music? Now that certainly justified a visit.

A bout of laughter rang through the streets and then the music continued. Your pillow drowned the frustrated scream that you let out.

Your phone lit up on your nightstand and you gave up the pretence that you would find some sleep tonight.

Paz: Remind me again why I should adhere to my parole?

You smiled, your fingers already flying over the screen.

You: Because I don’t want you to leave me alone with these idiots when they arrest you?

Paz: I wouldn’t let their bodies be found.

You laughed, convinced that you had never felt as happy as when you saw the three little dots still moving on the screen.

Paz: If you can't sleep … how about we have sex?

You stopped laughing, your breath catching in your throat at how forward he was. But not in a bad way. Not in the way Dreks had been forward with you – too forward – but in a way that you wished he had been the last time he had been in your bed.

Another ping, another message.

Paz: I promise I will take you out for dinner tomorrow. As a date.

Now that sealed the deal.

You: Save the date for when I can bear going outside and come over.

Someone stumbled on the other side of the wall and you could hear him curse. You snorted, blindly reaching for the little light on your nightstand and switching it on. You could hear his door creak before it fell closed again and only a second later, a knock sounded on your door.

You jumped up, not caring to put anything on. It would only be taken off anyway. Besides, it was way too hot.

So, when you opened the door at 2 am in the morning, you knew it would be Paz Vizsla on the other side of it and you would greet him in the nude. Which was something he clearly had not expected.

He looked out of breath, as if he had just finished a marathon, and his chest was glistening with tattoos. Even with him wearing only his boxers, he looked absolutely massive in your doorframe, the black ink that snuck its way up his arm and across his shoulder tempting you to trace the lines with your mouth.

It was only then that you realized the silence between you had stretched on quite a bit and you were still standing in the doorway, grinning at each other like little school kids. You cleared your throat, shifting the weight on your feet.

“Hi,” he breathed.

“Hello,” you smiled back.

And then he was on you, his hands cupping your face and pulling you in for a kiss. He was so close and so warm and you were surprised how easy it was to bear the heat of his touch when it was him that was kissing you, him that was crowding you through the darkness towards your bed.

“You have no idea how much I want you,” he murmured against your lips, “You were all I thought about this week.”

“Promise me you’ll fuck me tonight,” you gasped, “Please, I – after last time, I just –“

“You just what?” he grinned, peppering kisses down your neck. His large hands wandered to your middle, brushing over the skin of your hip down to your ass before cupping the soft flesh in his palms. “You just want to be properly fucked?”

You nodded, leaning up to kiss him again. He hadn’t shaved in a few days and you could feel the stubble against your cheeks but it did not bother you, if anything, you just wanted more of him. You wanted to feel him on you, inside you, curled around you. You just wanted Paz.

The back of your knees hit the mattress and you squeaked, tightening your arms around his neck in order not to fall. Kisses turned into laughter turned into breathless gasps turned into hands running down your side.

“Lay down for me, love,” he whispered against you and you did, his hands making sure you didn’t fall, his body following yours like waves lapping at the shore. The pet name sent shivers down your spine and he was so close now, his nose brushing against yours and you swore you had never seen eyes as intense as his.

“This way,” he ordered gently, his hands guiding you to turn around until you were flat on your belly. Your breath rushed out of your lungs as you felt him spread your legs apart. His hands alone felt massive and you remembered just how giant he had felt in your hand. Stars, you could not wait to feel him.

The sheets felt cool against your skin for a heavenly second before you were distracted by Paz’s hands between your legs. One finger pushed inside you and you arched your back, trying to get him to understand how ready you were.

“Shit you’re so hot,” he murmured, thick fingers rubbing over your folds again and you gasped, “And so wet. Tell me, little one, is that all for me? Is that pussy all wet for me?”

“Yes,” you nodded, your cheek sticking to the pillowcase, “Paz, please, I –“

“You what?”

“I want more,” you whined, shuffling your legs wider apart, “Paz, I’m so ready, please …”

He hushed you by adding another thick finger and pressing a kiss against your shoulder blade. You could feel him hard against your butt, leaking precome onto your skin and it drove you crazy, knowing how close he was, knowing you still needed time but you just … you did not want to wait. 

Paz carefully crooked his fingers inside you, his thumb circling your clit in the process. “We both know how big I am,” he reminded you teasingly and, as if to prove his point, pressed his cock against your hips, “We need to prep you, love.”

“Don’t wanna wait though,” you pouted, a moan leaving you when he scissored his fingers, your walls clenching around him, “Waited for so long.”

The big man chuckled against you, the depth of his voice only churning the fire inside you. “I know, sweetheart, I know how badly you need to be fucked. But I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” you assured him, lifting your hips and pushing them back against his fingers, your thighs clenching when they massaged that spot in you that made you feel like you were floating.

“You want to know what I thought about?” he asked you innocently, his breath washing against your ear and you shivered. His fingers left you and you were so close to protesting when you felt them come back, now three fingers slowly stretching your entrance.

“I imagined what it would be like to fuck my come into you,” he revealed lowly, kissing your cheek, “Only used the hand that had been inside you to jerk off, too, tried to remember how fucking tight you were for me.”

Oh by all that was holy how could one man be so hot?

Paz grunted and the mattress shifted as he straddled you from behind. His chest was against your back, the heat of him almost unbearable when paired with the unrelenting temperatures of the night.

This was it.

“Go slow, please,” you asked, suddenly feeling a little shy, “You’re so big.”

Paz hummed, his big hands immediately slowing down, smoothing over your sides before you felt him against your entrance. “I will go slow, I promise,” he whispered, kissing your shoulder blade softly, “You tell me, when it’s too much, yeah?” he asked, already sounding a little breathless and you nodded, turning your face to rest on your folded hands.

You only had the memory of him in your hand, the size of him, the girth of him. Paz Vizsla was packing and you had no idea how you would be able to take him. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could see him move, see his chest heave with his breaths and see his arms move as he ran his hands over your back.

You breathed out, focusing on the feeling of him running his tip through your folds, circling your clit before ever so slightly pushing into you. It drove you crazy and you tried to spread your legs even more, trying to show him that it was okay, that you could take him, that you –

“Someone seems to get impatient.”

He pulled out again, chuckling when you lifted your hips to follow him. You could feel your wetness drip onto the sheets but his strong thighs had caged in yours and all it did was make him push you down again with a chuckle. It should not have turned you on how easy that had been for him.

You gasped when he pushed inside you again, this time a little deeper, though as soon as his tip was inside you, he pulled out again.

“Fuck,” you cursed, wrapping your arms around your pillow, and muffling your moan.

His hand came down next to your face, holding him up and seeing the tattoos on his knuckles made you want to bite into yours.

“Never had a big cock like mine, did you?”

“N-no, you’re so big,” you mumbled, wiggling your hips to get him inside you again.

The growl he let out was otherworldly and your breath hitched when his other hand came down on the back of your neck, pushing you into the sheets. “Is this okay?” he checked in, his cock pushing inside you, stretching you more than anyone ever had.

“Yes,” you breathed, relaxing into the bed.

“Good girl.”

Feeling you relax seemed to have been the magic unspoken words he had been waiting for because as soon as his hips started moving, they did not stop. It was rough and fast and so precise you wondered just how he was able to read your body like it had been his all along. His hand on your neck slightly pushed you into the pillow, his thumb stroking over the nape of your neck lovingly while his cock stretched your walls.

You tightened around him, your cheeks burning when you heard the squelching sounds from behind you. You had never been this wet without help and yet here you were, being fucked within an inch of your life by the giant man next door who had occupied your dreams for as long as he had lived here. Your pussy clenched around him, trying to keep him inside you and you could hear him curse under his breath.

Paz changed the rhythm, then, going for slow and deep strokes that made your eyes roll back. He shifted his weight and his hand left your neck and instead found both of yours, holding them down next to your head. His mouth was by your ear and you whined, feeling completely overpowered by him in the best way. He could do whatever he wanted with you, you just wanted to feel him inside you for as long as possible.

“You look so good like this,” he rumbled, “You – actually you look a little cockdumb for me,” he added before kissing you softly. “Is it okay if I call you that?” he asked, his hips slapping against your ass, “Is it okay if I call you just a little cockdumb for me?”

You could not form any words, too far gone on his cock to care. “Uh-huh,” you agreed, your eyes zeroing in on his hand right next to your face and before you knew it, you had leant forward, slipping your lips around his thumb and sucking on the thick digit. Paz groaned loudly, his hips stuttering before he caught himself, stilling inside you.

“Stars woman,” he ground into you, “You just want me to come in this pussy, don’t you?”

He pushed his cock into you slowly, grounding into you which in turn caused some of the folds of your bunched-up bedding to catch on your clit and –

You moaned around his finger, drool escaping onto the pillow but you did not care. You felt messy and wet and hot but all you wanted was for him to continue just like this. With his fat cock in your pussy and the unfamiliar but certainly not unwelcome stimulation on your folds, you felt like you were right on the edge.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he praised you, “prettiest fucking pussy I’m ever gonna fill up, sweetheart, you hear that? I’m gonna fill you up so good you don’t want anybody else ever again.”

The idea of him coming inside you, filling you up with the load that had filled the entirety of your palm the last time … it made your walls flutter.

“Gonna come inside you,” he repeated against the back of your neck, his body slick against yours and you did your best to nod, your mouth open from silent gasps and moans at the places he hit so deep inside you, you were convinced you never could to be with anyone else.

His body was a furnace behind and over you, his hips slamming against the flesh of your ass again and again and the salt on his skin making you feel intoxicated.

“Say it,” he rumbled, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear and pushing his cock deeper, “Beg me to come inside this sweet pussy. I know how bad you need it.”

“Please come inside me,” you gasped out, “F-fuck, please, Paz, p-please come inside me. I’m so close, I just want to feel your come inside me, p-please.”

The thumb you just had in your mouth, hooked into the corner of your mouth, forcing your mouth open. “I want to hear you when you come on my cock,” he growled, “C’mon, sweetheart, be loud for me.”

And you were. Your legs were trembling, your muscles tensing and it felt like your soul had left your body as you moaned into the thick summer air, coming around his cock while he was still fucking you. His body was heavy on yours, keeping you grounded and leaving no chance of escape as he fucked you through your orgasm like he had just waited to show you how could he could make you feel even when your brain seemed unable to process anything that was going on.

“Good girl,” he praised you, “Go on, clench around me, love, make me come.”

Not shortly after, Paz came inside you. And he came a lot. So much, in fact, that you could feel the pressure that came with lying on your belly and as soon as he pulled out (both of you wincing at the loss of contact), his come already trickled out of your pussy.

“Shit it’s dripping out of you,” he cursed, still sitting behind you and you gasped when his fingers pushed it right back inside you, “We don’t want that, do we?”

You giggled, shaking your head as you slowly rolled onto your back. “No, we really don’t want that.”

In the warm light of the streetlamps that flooded up from the streets, you could see a wide smile on his glistening face, his eyes roaming over your face and body to make sure you were okay. He looked shy almost. As if he hadn’t just given you the best orgasm of your life.

Paz leant down from where he had perched his head on his elbow. His lips pressed against your temple, his nose running along your hairline. “You’re so fucking beautiful, sweetheart,” he whispered, “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m feeling perfect,” you corrected him with a tired smile, “I feel like I am a cloud.”

He laughed at that, deep and genuine and so fucking perfect it made your heart clench. “Would you like something to drink then?” he asked, his hand running over your thigh.

“Yes please,” you mumbled, still trying to catch your breath, “There’s some water in the fridge. I, uh, I think I’m gonna freshen up a bit.”

Paz sat up, swinging his legs over the end of the bed. The street lights illuminated his face as he looked at you and you could see the soft lines on his face. “Are you suggesting a midnight shower, sweetheart?” he teased you, shrugging on his boxers, “I could join you.”

You opened your mouth, ready to invite him for another round under the deliciously cool water when another voice pulled you out of your bubble.

“Are you two finished already?”

Paz chuckled, pressing a kiss against your temple before turning his face towards the open window.

“Fuck off!” he shouted, his voice turning into a mumble as he continued to drop kisses down the side of your face until he reached your neck, “I’m busy.”

[finelinevogue]

Okay this is probably something so sooooo different from other requests you have got.

Can you actually imagine if you were part of 1D. Like you are the only girl there and you and Harry are secretly dating?

Can you do one where the 1D are doing a interview and the intervier is keep on asking questions that is inappropriate to YN and she does not know what to say. And Harry and the boys com to the rescue.

Or

Can you do one where their in stage singing and YN and Harry is just playing around dancing all while singing

Or

Do you remember the BRIT Awards 2014 when Harry was late because he was having a ‘wee’ can you do that but like YN and Harry were just in the bathroom having a quick s3x.

You can which ever one you want but idk where this idea poped but yeah. I like the last one you don’t have to do it tho.

ok im going to try the last one but idk whether it’ll be any good :/

Being in the most successful band in the world was a title that you couldn’t quite understand still.

3 years since being formed on the X Factor you still struggled to wake up every day and remind yourself that this was your life. ‘This’ being the lead singer in One Direction. Alongside you was the other lead, male, singer; Harry. There was Niall who played lead guitar, Louis who played the piano, Liam who played the bass guitar and Zayn who played the drums. You were all a family, well except from you and Harry - that was something different.

It hadn’t taken long for you and Harry to ask you out and originally you’d said no. You thought he would’ve given up and it was his persistence that made you fall for him. You wanted stability in a relationship and Harry proved that he could provide you that.

You loved your relationship with Harry. He was perfect, at least to you. He knew exactly the ins and outs of you. He was able to detect when you were sad and would flourish you with chocolates and flowers to grow a smile back on your face. He knew all your favourite movie quotes and your favourite book characters. He wrote every song about you. You, about him. He made you laugh until your belly hurt and he made you experience unexplainable feelings.

He was a temple of love and it was all for you.

Just like now, as he thrusted into you from behind. He had you bent over the bathroom sink, making you watch him claim you his. His movements were primal and he wasn’t stopping for anyone or anything.

“Fuck you feel so good Y/N.” He grasped your hair and pulled your head back, groaning when he saw your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were shut tight and mouth hung open in breathlessness. “Open your eyes. Open your eyes and look at yourself.” You did as you were told, moaning at the sight.

He had your dress hitched up around your waist and panties pulled to the side. You were lucky your hair had been done down so that it wouldn’t be obvious what you were doing. Harry was in a gorgeous black suit with a heart printed shirt. You’d picked out his shirt because it matched your dress. It was your first appearance out as an official couple and you wanted to make a statement. The Brits was a good place to make that statement.

“Fuck H, you feel so good.”

“Yeah? Love you so much baby. You’re so beautiful.” Your phone started ringing on the side of the counter. “Ignore it, fuck. I’m nearly there. Y’gonna come for me? Yeah?”

All you could focus in was the way Harry struck into you. He was hard and fast, gripping your hips to help force you back and push him forwards. The sounds were sinful and the pleasure was pure. Nothing would ever feel as good as this. He was pounding you so raw and you knew that you’d have a mass of bruises tomorrow from his grip.

“Wanna come so badly, mhm.”

“Come for me then, baby. Come and then i’ll fill you up so good.” He whispered into your ear, the sounds of your phone still ringing long forgotten. You were both on a cloud so high that nothing else seemed important anymore.

You did as Harry told you, your whole body shaking. Harry had to grip your waist tighter, as your legs were failing to work for themselves and hold you up. As you came, he coated your walls white. Feeling so full had never felt so good. You were so fucked for him, literally.

“Keep all of me in there and i’ll lick it out of you tonight.” He demanded as he pulled out of you, now feeling empty.

He helped you stand up properly and fixed your hair and makeup with you. “So pretty.” He told you, kissing you on the lips once, twice, three times.

“As are you.”

You both walked out of the locked toilets and down the corridors of the O2 arena, where the Brits were being helped. Harry was laughing at something you said when a lady rushed up to you both.

“Where’ve you two been? You’ve won a bloomin’ award and the rest of your band are on stage now!” She seemed cross, but also mixed with a little bit of star struck nerves. You and Harry didn’t miss what she’d said though and took each others hands whilst running off down the corridor.

Harry was in front of you, you not being able to run as fast with your heels on. As you entered the main arena you heard Liam speak.

“I don’t know where you are Harry and Y/N..” Before he spotted you both running down the centre aisle. Harry ran off a bit, leaving you run on your own.

You were scared of breaking your ankle, however, so stopped to try and take them off. You forgot they were buckled though which made the process harder. Before you got the chance to properly undo them, you felt someones, Harry’s, arms tuck underneath your legs and around your back and hoisting you up to carry you bridal style the rest of the way.

“You and your bloody heels.” He rolled his eyes and you kissed his cheek confidently.

As you got to the stage, Harry put you down and took the microphone off of Liam. “Really sorry! We were having a wee.”

Although everyone knew otherwise.

[meowniee]

Lee Taeyong - One Shot

Pairing: Female Reader (photographer) x Lee Taeyong (idol)

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 4,2k

Warnings: oral (f/m) | fingering (f) | penetration | protected sex | squirt | manhandling | finger sucking

Synopsis: Who would have thought that doing a photo shoot with NCT would lead you to stay after your working hours in a room alone with Taeyong...

You were already asleep when you got a call from your boss. One of the photographers who would be working tomorrow had gotten sick and he needed you to go to work in her place. You had been hired a few months ago, but you hadn't worked on any major projects yet, even though your experience in the field is impeccable. He asked you to arrive early tomorrow at the film set and your colleague would explain all the work. You were so excited, it would be your first opportunity to show your talent, whatever job it was.

You could barely sleep and ended up waking up earlier than you needed to. You chose a comfortable outfit, pants and shirt, ate your favorite breakfast, did some very basic makeup, highlighting your cute lips, and went out to the photo set. The day was beautiful with a very blue sky and a shining sun. It was almost 10 am when you arrived at the luxurious hotel where the photos would be. At the entrance, your colleague was waiting for you with an iced coffee in each hand. You greeted each other quickly, thanking her for the coffee, and headed into the hotel, picking up your credentials at the lobby. On the way to the main hall, she explained to you that they would have a big crew today because they were going to photograph a famous K-pop group, NCT127. Each photographer would be responsible for one of them during the individual photos, and the photos would be taken in a hotel room according to the aesthetic that each one wanted. She told you that you would be responsible for Taeyong, the leader of the group. You were shocked. You were just replacing the sick photographer and were you responsible for none other than the GROUP LEADER? “Don't worry, he's an experienced idol. He'll help you with whatever you need. He's also a sweetheart, rest assured”, she said, patting your arm. You sighed in relief. You need to do your best today to take your best pictures. You knew Taeyong and how perfect he was in the photos. His features were sharp and his gaze was deep, the best set for a good model.

It didn't take long for all the photographers and directors to arrive, preparing their cameras, lights and scenery, reviewing the positions and space around them. The beats of their music echoed faintly through the hall. You heard rumbles coming from the entrance to the hall and turned to see what was going on. The boys had arrived along with their security guards and managers. They were mostly in sweats and comfortable clothes, clearly without the luxurious outfits prepared for the photos. Some messy hair, sleepy eyes and yawns accompanied their expression, but that didn't stop you from noticing how beautiful they were. Extremely beautiful. They were talking to each other, sipping their coffee, laughing and settling down next to the staff members. The blonde one, Taeyong, stood in front of them, ceasing their conversation. They greeted all of the staff, bowing and smiling. The director took the lead and made the general introductions. "We will have a team responsible for each member to optimize the work today. Please direct each member to their workstation to begin preparations". He called one name at a time, redirecting the boys to their teams. The makeup artists and hairdressers started to work, preparing their looks according to the references they had received. You stood a little away from him, a little embarrassed, holding your camera. You didn't want to take pictures of him without makeup, respecting his personal space, so you waited until the stylists had finished. He was perfect now, with his hair straight and his makeup done. Soft pink lips emphasized the shape. He was fiddling with his cell phone, waiting for the moment to go change. You approached slowly. “Hi Mr. Lee… I’m Y/n. I am your photographer today”, you introduced yourself, bending a little and unable to look at him. “Hey! Nice to meet you.”. You raised your eyes a little to see him. He was smiling and waving his hand. “I didn't know you. Are you new here?”, he asked. “Yes… Hm… I'm replacing a colleague who couldn't come”, you answered, squeezing your camera in your hands. “If you have any questions or need help, just ask me, okay?”, he smiled and got up to go dress up. You breathed a sigh of relief. You were very nervous and hadn't even realized you weren't breathing properly. He seemed very kind and that made you more relieved.

The group photos were quick. The boys were very professional, they knew exactly what to do, where to look and how to position their bodies. They were very comfortable with the production, playing games with each other but not disturbing each other's work. Everyone's attention was focused on them, always going to fix some hair that was out of place, or some slightly smudged makeup. Words of encouragement from the photographers only made them more excited. You were always watching Taeyong. You needed to learn how he looked at the camera, what angles he preferred and how he liked to pose for pictures. He was the one who looked most comfortable among them all. He wore burgundy pants and a shiny leather jacket, no shirt. Sometimes your eyes locked, making your whole body heat up, and eventually you would shyly look away.

Everyone had lunch at the hotel restaurant and then went to the individual sets. All lights and equipment were mounted. The rooms weren't very big, but the staff was downsized now so you wouldn't have a problem with that. The room had a bed by the window, a sofa across the room, and a rug with wave patterns. The pale colors contrasted with Taeyong's clothes.

Individual photos took longer. Taeyong always stopped to look at the result in the notebook, giving suggestions for light, for angles, praising your photos. You were getting more and more comfortable with him, laughing at the jokes and daring to get closer. “It's almost 7 PM, we should start wrapping up”, you said. He looked at you. “I really want to try some other poses and angles. Y/n, can you stay up a little later?” he asked and you nodded quickly. It was your most important job so far and you would make the most of it. “We won't need the production. You all can go. These photos will be for my personal project. Thank you so much for your hard work today”. He said, turning to the rest of the staff. They thanked and bowed, starting to pack their things and leave the room. You were very happy that he asked you to take more photos for his personal project. So he liked your work, right? You were enjoying working with him too. The conversation and exchange of ideas flowed easily. You quickly understood what he wanted and could reproduce it with your clicks. You had good chemistry together. “I'm going to go down and get my stuff from downstairs and from there we can start, ok?”, you said, opening the door and heading for the elevator. You were very excited... and a little nervous about being alone in a room with him. Quickly grabbing your extra lights and lenses, you went back to the hotel room, thinking of all the angles that could be made there. You knocked on the door before entering. Taeyong had his notebook open, sitting on the couch. The room was cozier now that all the lights were out and there wasn't a lot of equipment in the corners. “I ordered drinks and some snacks for us. We can relax a little while I explain to you what I thought for these photos.”, he said as you put your things down by the couch, sitting on the bed in front of him. “Oh thank you! So… Tell me a little about your project, please”, you asked him. His eyes were shining as he told you about his new album that he produced himself. He was thinking about taking photos to promote digitally. A sexier concept as his songs were very intimate. You really liked everything. He had a very artistic mind and he spoke in a very emotional way.

The snacks arrived and you thanked them, you were starving. At some point you sat next to him on the couch while he showed you pictures he liked, so you could follow the concept. You both finished eating and you got up, “How do you want to start? Maybe on the couch?”, he nodded, crossing his legs and leaning on the sofa, his tiger look appearing again. His duality was incredible. Super cute and adorable off camera, but extremely irresistible on them. His poses were great and you always praised him between them, cheering him on. He lay on his back on the couch, letting his arm fall over the edge, looking directly at you through the camera lens. This was the best photo of the night, for sure. He sat, legs closed, back laying on the couch. If you were your camera right now, you would be melted by his gaze. “Can you take one up close?”, he asked. You positioned yourself very close to his legs, leaning forward to get as close as possible, trying to balance. “You can put your legs around mine. That’s okay”. You did as he said, timidly opening your legs and getting closer to him, his legs between yours. He lay a little more on the couch, flirting with the lenses. Or with you? You didn't know anymore at that point. You tried to get a little closer, but you lost your balance, falling forward. He quickly put his hands around your waist, holding you, making you sit in his lap. “Are you ok?”, he asked. You were so embarrassed, your cheeks were burning. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Thank you”, you whispered. You didn't try to get up and he didn't move either. His hands still gripping your waist, holding you in place. “Maybe a photo this close will be good”, he murmured, lightly squeezing his hands on you. You quickly raised the camera. You thanked you for not having to look him in the eye, but being able to see him through the lens was a really amazing view. You clicked several times, trying to capture the most of the moment. You tightened your thighs around him, getting closer. His hands gently moved down your legs as his gaze traveled over your entire body. He bit his lower lip when you whispered a compliment, letting his head fall back, panting softly. He was enjoying the whole moment, just like you. You took his chin between your fingers and pushed it up, making him face the camera. Your thumb lightly scraping the bitten lip as he opened it slightly. Lowering the camera, you glared into his eyes, pushing your finger slowly between his lips, testing the waters. You let a low moan escape as he ran his tongue over your finger, circling slowly and then closing his lips around it.

Taeyong was so sexy already totally drunk with pleasure underneath you, with labored breathing and huge pupils dilated by arousal. You could almost feel him melt under your touch, giving himself completely. Was this really happening? Or did you hit your head in the elevator and this is all just your mind's creation? The questioning passed quickly when you felt a sharp bite on your finger, pulling you back to reality. Yes, he was there, deliciously sucking your finger like it was the tastiest candy he'd ever had. Putting the camera to one side entirely, you looked deep into his eyes, lifting your head with a defiant look as your fingers tightened inside his mouth, forcing him to open it. He took a deep breath before suddenly grabbing you around the waist and pulling you close to his chest, causing you to lose your balance and fall onto his chest completely, bracing both your hands on the couch behind him. You felt him pushing his hips up against yours just before your lips met. His lips were colder than yours, giving you goosebumps. Quickly devouring each other, the kiss became extremely hot as your tongues twisted against each other, tasting the sweet needy taste. You slipped your hand from his chest, past his neck, into his blonde hair, tangling your fingers in, pressing your mouths even closer, deepening the kiss. A purr resonated through his chest, leaving you extremely excited. He was so responsive to your actions, melting at any gesture, especially when you showed dominance over him.

You let your head fall back, leaving your neck free, guiding Taeyong to kiss you there. Despite the strength of your hand in his hair, he took his time kissing your jaw until he reached the base of your neck, biting and licking near your collarbone. His hands moved up from your hips, working their way under your shirt, reaching the base of your breasts. His hands weren't big, but they hugged your ribs as best they could. Running his hands down your back until he reached your shoulders, he pressed you down, against your prominent volume growing inside his pants, kissing the valley between your breasts through your shirt. You can do nothing but sigh. You grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it up, letting Taeyong sink between your breasts, kissing them through the lace of your bra as his deft hands opened it from behind. He pulled back for a moment as he slipped the straps over your shoulder, letting the bra fall between you, quickly tossing it to the side. Admiring your bare breasts, he cupped them both in his hands, massaging them gently, playing with your nipples between his fingers, lightly squeezing, earning a moan from you. Looking deep into your eyes, he brought his pink lips near to your nipple, pressing the tip of his tongue around it before capturing it with his mouth. The other one was being pinched and twirled between his fingers. You could feel your arousal making you wet, pooling in the fabric of your panties. You pressed your hips against his, trying to feel him hard against your clothed core.

You were startled when he quickly flipped you over with your back to the couch, sitting you down and pulling your hips closer to the edge. He found the waistband of your pants and pulled it with his fingers along with your panties, leaving you totally naked. His eyes ran all over your body, burning through every part they passed. Spreading your legs, he positioned in the middle as he sought your lips for another hot kiss. He was still fully dressed and it made you a little embarrassed to be undressed. You took advantage of the fact that he was close and started to open the buttons on his leather coat as he sucked your tongue and left bites on your lips. He helped you finish taking off his coat, throwing it somewhere in the room. He took a moment for you to look at him between your legs, standing up, and appreciate his gorgeous torso, now exposed since he wasn't wearing any shirt. He knelt gracefully between your legs, still looking into your eyes, and placed his hands on the inner part of your thigh, forcing you to spread your legs even further so that he could fit his broad shoulders between them. He brought his lips too close to your wet folds, but he didn't touch, just laid there, breathing hot, making you feel how close he was from your core. You grabbed his hair and forced his head against you, which he gladly accepted, flattening his tongue on your cunt. It didn't take long before he was devouring you hungrily, licking up all of your liquid, sucking on your clit and twisting his tongue around it. It felt great and you moaned his name under your breath, trying not to yell at all the neighbors to hear. You felt your orgasm approaching and began to roll your hips, rubbing yourself against his tongue. You couldn't help when your back arched and the wave of heat spilled over your whole body. He didn't stop sucking on your clit, prolonging the sensation of pleasure as your body writhed with each movement. When the sensation started to get painful from overstimulation, he slipped two fingers inside your wet interior, starting to move them curved, reaching the most sensitive point. You were about to ask him to stop when you felt another orgasm coming. His fingers worked fast in and out of your pussy, rubbing your g-spot with precision, while his mouth kissed your super sensitive clit. You felt an incredible pressure taking hold of your uterus, as if your bladder were suddenly too full. You tried to close your legs, but he held you tight, looking you in the eyes, daring you to stay there. You were hit by a high-speed train when your second orgasm came too quickly compared to the previous one. “Fuck…”, you yelled as you heard the louder and wet noises spreading through the room as Taeyong guided you through your moment of ecstasy. When you managed to open your eyes, he was looking at you with a proud smile on his lips. “God…that was really hot…”, he said, bringing his soaked fingers to his mouth, sucking each one until there was no juices left. You looked at your legs and saw that they were much wetter than usual. It's been a long time since you last had a squirt. And you were sure this wasn't the first time he's done this with a woman.

You saw his other hand rubbing the volume down his pants. He made you feel so good and now you wanted to return the favor. “Get up”, you asked, signaling with your finger. He immediately got up. Small dark stains covered the front of his burgundy pants, hit by your juices. Both of his hands were clasped behind his back, puffing out his chest and taking a deep breath, waiting for you. You reached for the button on his pants, undoing it slowly as you teased him with your gaze. You slid the zipper down at a slow pace, anticipating your touch on his cock. He was wearing black boxers, which fit perfectly against his body, showing the design of his hard member constrained by the fabric. You dropped his pants on his feet. Taking a firm grip on his ass and squeezing, you brought your lips close to his still-covered volume, sliding your lips over his length. You earned a sigh of appreciation. He didn't tease you, so you wouldn't tease him either. You grabbed the waistband of his boxers and pulled it down, freeing his hard cock. He was wet with pre-cum, glistening in the bedroom light, inviting your mouth to suck it. You took it in your hand, being careful not to put too much pressure, and brought the tip to your lips, giving light kisses around it as you looked at him. His eyes sparkling with anticipation when you stuck your tongue out, gently circling, collecting the pre-cum to taste it. He was so sweet you almost couldn't believe it. You put his whole head in your mouth and increased the pressure on your hand, making him moan louder than before. Sliding down to the end of its length and back, feeling it hit the back of your throat, you started to suck it, your other hand mimicking your movements, but to the opposite side. When your head twisted to the right as you swallowed his length, your hand met twisting to the left. He was moaning hard from pleasure, making you feel proud of your perfect blowjob. You were determined to make him come in your mouth, so you took his balls with your free hand, gently massaging them back and forth as you deepthroated his entire length. You were about to go back when you felt his hand pressing your head further, keeping his cock in your hot throat. You couldn't fight the gag reflex, but he pulled back your head, freeing your throat so you could breathe.

Your lips were all wet with saliva, as was his dick. He pulled your head, making you look at him. "Please… I don't want to come yet…", he begged between sighs. You stood up, hugging his defined waist, quickly spinning him around, causing him to lose his balance and land on the couch. You sat on his lap, positioning your needy pussy on top of his hard cock. Resting your hands on his chest, you started grinding his entire length with your wet folds. He took hold of your hips and helped guide the movement, rolling his eyes back at the wonderful feeling it was like to have you slide past him. “Do you have a condom?”, you asked. He was a little bewildered with pleasure and looked a little startled by the question. “Y-yes…”, he replied, quickly reaching into his wallet and pulling one out. You barely waited for him to finish putting on as you positioned yourself with your entrance to the head of his cock, taking advantage that he was holding it up.

You slid painfully slowly across his length, watching his gaze fixed on where he disappeared inside you. You both moaned low as you reached the end, waiting until your tight walls got used to his size. He cupped both of your breasts, taking one of them in his mouth and kissing it as if it were your lips. You started to roll your hips with his dick deep inside you. “Fuck…”, you both whispered. You couldn't keep it that way for long, so you got up until it almost came out of you, and sank down again. You kept the rhythm steady, enjoying the pleasure inside you. Your brain still didn't seem to process the fact that you were fucking none other than Taeyong. He was really perfect, like he came out of an anime. And he was enjoying being there with you… it made you even more turned out. He started to move his hips too, slamming against you harder, pushing even deeper. You couldn't hold back a shriek of pleasure as it hit so deep you could have sworn you'd feel pain there tomorrow. He kept it deep and strong, the thrusts getting more and more sloppy while the two of you were a moaning mess. Both bodies tense feeling the orgasm approaching, labored breathing filling the room with gasps of air. Grabbing the hair at the back of his head and forcing him away from your sensitive nipple, you captured his lips with yours, still tasting your own juice on his tongue. You could feel your walls tightening and his cock throbbing. You stopped bouncing on him, just focusing on kissing his mouth, but he held your hips in the air, giving him room to move under you, pushing his cock deeper and faster with harder and harder. You dropped your head at the base of his neck, moaning not so low his name as he nibbled and sucked on your neck, increasing your pleasure even further. “Fuck, Taeyong… I’m so close… Please, don’t stop”, you begged this time, holding tight his body against yours. Your words made him fuck you even faster, moaning in a low tone countless curses in your ear. Your orgasm erupted as he licked and bit your earlobe, giving you shivers all over your body, followed by the tingling sensation. Your walls squeezed his cock hard inside you, sucking him in with your pussy. He couldn’t hold it any longer and he's bursted all of his cum into the condom, deep inside you. He didn't stop moving in and out until you were both almost starting to feel pain from overstimulation.

You lay there cuddled together as your bodies rested, restoring your breathing rhythm and heartbeat. This all still didn't feel real. You just had the best sex of your life with… him. You were awakened from your thoughts by his voice in your ear. “Can we take a shower together?”, he asked, his voice so soft he didn't sound like the same person from a few minutes ago. “Only if you wash my hair for me…”, you joked. “Okay, I can do that”, he smiled. He helped you to your feet and went to the bathroom and started getting ready for the shower. “I'll order us something to eat if you don't mind. I'm hungry and I believe you are too”. You nodded as you wrapped yourself in the robe that was in the bedroom. He was being so adorable and caring. In fact, you wouldn't expect him to just send you away after having melted under your touch so easily. He was a gentleman and he was making you feel special right now.

The shower was fun and he let you do various hairstyles with the shampoo bubbles in his hair. Also the timing was perfect. As soon as you guys got out of the shower and wrapped yourself in your hotel robes, the food he ordered arrived in your room. Both of you ate while he told stories about behind the scenes in the clips and funny situations with other members of the group. He was so easy to talk to and give you pleasure that you could easily fall in love...

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Mind of a Child

Prompt: Ok so to make for all the Roman Angst I've requested heres some minor angst/fluff. Again I apologise for all the Roman Angst I've been requesting. Prompt: Roman was a mess. You see there's something that happens to sides if they reach a breaking point that they can't handle. Logan was lucky he finally realized it was time to talk about his feelings and look after himself after the wedding but Roman didn't. So after he sinks out from that awful conversation he finds himself beginning to feel really dizzy and as if he's getting younger and smaller. The next morning when Patton and Janus go to find Roman and comfort him they don't expect to see a five year old curled up in an oversized prince costume terrified to death. So there's only one solution to show how much all the sides value and care for their little Prince, help him destress and look after himself. - meltheromanstan

Fluff and angst time, m'dudes

Read on Ao3

Warnings: self-doubt, self-esteem issues, but it all gets cuddled better

Pairings: found family ain't going anywhere

Word Count: 6047

He wants to go back to the way it was.

He just wants to go back.

He just wants to be loved again.

He wants to go back to the way it was.

Roman sinks out and lands hard in his room, bashing his knee against the wall as he crumples to the floor. His hair protests as he tangles his hands in the strands and yanks, trying to think. He lies on the ground, frantically breathing but his lungs won’t inflate properly and his nose starts to burn. He feels nauseous. Is he sick? He turns on his back and it goes away. Humming. You’re supposed to hum when you feel like this. He starts humming something, some parody song that’s stuck in his head. The twitching in his gullet starts to recede only to be replaced by dizziness. Why is he dizzy? He’s on the floor.

His hands flop limply out to the side as he turns back and forth, trying to make sure that he can breathe, that it won’t hurt, what’s happening to him?

A small voice that sounds like a demented version of Remus—a more demented version of Remus—whispers that he deserves this.

But Roman doesn’t know anything anymore and he’s so tired and he just wants things to go back to the way they were.

When there wasn’t so much to worry about aside from making sure Thomas was happy and that he could dream.

When all he had to think about was not hurting Thomas with his dreams and making them good dreams.

When heroes were good and villains were bad and that was it.

He just wants to go back.

He just wants to be loved again.

The lights in his room are too bright. It hurts to keep looking up. So he won’t. He closes his eyes and the dizziness abates, just slightly. He lies on the floor, the cool wood pressing into his back. He lets his head flop from one side to the other. It’s impossible to get comfortable. It’s so loud. It’s so much. He wants someone here with him. He just wants to be told it’s okay. But it isn’t okay. It hasn’t been okay for a very long time.

He wants it to be okay again.

————————

The Mindscape is quiet. Hardly anyone makes a noise as they move about the rooms, some still too on edge to start making peace, some too nervous about sparking another disaster, some too confused to try and navigate the minefield they’ve all found themselves in.

But everything has to start somewhere.

Patton and Janus are the only two on…pretty much alright terms when the morning comes. Virgil is locked in his room. Remus’s brand of chaos is nothing helpful right now. So the two of them take a deep breath and go try to find Roman.

Patton took far too long to put the words to it and Janus would never admit it, but when Roman isn’t around, or when he’s not talking, it’s much harder to cut through the monotony of silence. For better or worse, the prince is impossible to look away from, impossible to ignore. And yes, maybe that has to do in part with how Creativity and the Mindscape work together, not to mention the manifestation of the Sides, but Roman is Roman. And if they’re going to start making any progress on getting back on their feet and getting back to normal, they need to get Roman back.

Patton probably thought that Roman would be easy to apologize to. Not just because it’s worked in the past—although Janus would hiss if he said that wasn’t part of it—but because he knows he’s the one who messed up. Roman likes sincerity, Patton knows what things went wrong, he knows he’s at fault here, a lot, and it won’t be as easy as one apology and everything will be fixed, but it would be a good start.

Janus knows Roman. For better or worse, he knows Roman. Knows what buttons to push, knows when not to push them—or so he thought—and knows that maybe, just maybe, he might be able to do what Patton can’t. Cite the good of the others, the good of Thomas, possibly even the good of Roman if he’s that stubborn. Or he’s a convenient punching bag if Roman needs to lash out before he can start putting the pieces back together if it needs to come to that.

But that’s not what happens.

What happens is Patton knocks lightly on the door and asks if Roman would let them come in. There’s no response. Janus speaks up, says he knows Roman is in there, please, they do just want to talk. Patton sets his hand on the door, just to rest there, maybe coax Roman to come to open it, when it swings open.

Their mouths run dry as it opens fully to reveal Roman’s costume on the floor in a heap.

And no Roman.

Janus muffles a curse and turns in a swirl of black fabric as Patton rushes inside, dropping to his knees by the abandoned costume and searching frantically for any sign of Roman.

What he finds makes him gasp.

Janus whirls around as quickly as he’d turned away to see Patton there, kneeling on the ground next to a tiny child clutching Roman’s sash like a red blanket.

“H-hey, kiddo,” Patton says carefully, trying to regain his composure, “what are you doing here?”

The child shuffles. “It’s my room.”

“This is Roman’s room,” Patton says as Janus carefully closes the door.

The child nods, rubbing the sash across his chin. Patton’s brows furrow as he watches the child’s gaze dart to Janus and back, then to Patton’s hands on his knees. He looks back up at Patton and clutches the sash tighter.

“Do you know where Roman is, kiddo?” The child nods but doesn’t make eye contact. “Can you tell me where?”

The child nods again but doesn’t say anything. The tip of Janus’s tongue starts to tingle. His eyes widen and he starts to walk over, raising his hands when the child’s gaze snaps to him.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says, crouching down to make himself a little smaller, “I’m just coming over to you.”

The child stays very still as Janus crouches down beside Patton. Janus tilts his head back and forth as he considers the way the child clings to the sash, the way he seems to be somewhat engulfed in the remains of the costume, and the way he keeps looking fearfully between Janus and Patton.

“…Roman?”

Roman’s gaze turns to him and Janus could cry.

“Wait—Roman?” Patton gasps and his hands fly to cover his mouth. “Oh, kiddo, what happened? Are you okay?”

“Don’t overwhelm him,” Janus warns under his breath as they watch poor Roman flinch a little. Patton takes a deep breath and softens his voice.

“Hey, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to scare you. We won’t hurt you, we promise.”

Roman’s grip on the sash doesn’t waver but his eyes lose a little bit of their frightful sheen. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

Janus takes off his glove, ignoring Patton’s look and—perhaps—the fact that Roman might not remember what this means. “I promise too.”

Roman looks back and forth between them. “…okay.”

Patton smiles and lets out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness. He does have to restrain himself from reaching and pulling the cute little prince into his lap but Roman’s normally defined face is now all chubby cheeks and puppy dog eyes and—no. No.

“Are you okay, kiddo,” he asks instead, still careful to keep his voice soft, “are you hurt at all?”

Roman shakes his head, still clutching the sash.

“What about in here,” Janus asks, laying his hand on his head, then his chest, “or here?”

Before Roman can answer, however, his stomach growls loudly. Janus chuckles.

“That’s enough of an answer for me. Shall we get you something to eat, little prince?”

Roman shakes his head so hard he almost knocks himself over. “Not a prince!”

They both freeze.

Not…not a prince?

Roman is The Prince. He’s Princey. The Prince of Thomas’s Dreams.

“What do you mean, ‘not a prince,’ kiddo?”

“Not a prince,” Roman insists, staring at the ground, “couldn’t—I couldn’t be a prince so…I had to start over.”

Something tugs at a dark place in their chests. Patton glances at Janus. Janus shakes his head slowly.

“Okay, then, Roman,” he says instead, “but can we get you something to eat?”

Roman glances around at the mess of the costume around him. “Clothes?”

“I’m sure someone as creative as you can make as many clothes as you like,” Janus smiles, watching carefully to see Roman’s reaction.

Roman looks at Patton. “What do I make?”

Patton’s smile slips a bit. “Whatever you want, kiddo.”

Roman frowns. “But what do I make?”

“What do you mean?”

“You have to tell me.”

Oh. Oh, dear. Patton’s smile fades, replaced with a slowly growing awareness of what’s going on. “You don’t need my permission, kiddo,” he says firmly, leaning down a little so Roman’s eye level is the same as his, “you are allowed to make what you want to make. What makes you happy.”

“What is that?”

Patton is going to cry.

“Why don’t you make what you think would be the most comfortable,” Janus tries, shooting a glance at Patton and laying a hand on his arm, “maybe to go downstairs and get something to eat in?”

Roman thinks for a moment, then he rubs the sash against his cheek and a t-shirt and shorts appear. But they aren’t red. They’re just grey. Janus smiles and stands.

“There you go,” he says, “well done.”

And oh, if the way Roman’s head jerks up in a quick moment of shameless eagerness doesn’t make that smile a little more sincere. He holds out a hand to the little one and Roman takes it, standing slowly as they begin to lead him out of his room.

“What would you like to eat,” Patton asks as they get Roman sat down, “how hungry are you?”

“What can I have?”

“Well,” Patton says as he starts to open and close cabinets, “we’ve got pasta if you want a full dinner, we’ve got crackers, cereal, pretzels, fruit, quite a lot of options.”

“…can I have pretzels, please?”

“One bowl of pretzels coming right up!”

Janus sits next to him as Roman begins to eat the pretzels. Patton comes to join them, sitting a little further away as to not crowd the poor kiddo. He exchanges a look with Janus as Roman continues to eat.

Footsteps on the stairs.

Janus looks up just as Virgil and Logan come down into the living room, talking between themselves. They trail off as they notice Janus staring at them.

“Can we help you?” Then Virgil’s eyes land on Roman. “Holy—“

He slaps a hand over his mouth and glares at Janus. Janus raises an eyebrow and slowly lets him go.

“Rude.”

“But necessary,” Janus says, folding his hands and drawing himself up. Virgil gives him a strange look but refocuses on Roman.

“So…who’s the kid?”

“I believe,” Logan says softly, the way Roman hasn’t looked up at them once and instead continues to eat pretzels almost mechanically not escaping him, “this is Roman.”

At the mention of his name, Roman looks up slowly, meeting Logan’s gaze with more than enough trepidation to set Virgil’s fingers buzzing. Logan tilts his head and waves a little. Roman just stares at him.

“Hello, Roman,” Logan says, still in that very soft voice, “it’s good to see you.”

Roman waves back. Then he glances down at the bowl of pretzels and twists his hands together.

“Are you full, kiddo?” Patton takes the bowl when Roman nods. “Good. I’m glad you enjoyed them.”

Roman glances around, shifting a little in his grey t-shirt. “Can I go back to my room now?”

“Of course you can,” Janus says, “would you like one of us to come with you?”

Roman shakes his head quickly. A little too quickly. But he’s been given permission to leave so he scoots off the chair and all but scrambles up the stairs. Logan watches him go, concern written over his features. Virgil waits to hear the soft click of his door shutting before rounding on the others.

“Why the hell is Princey a child?”

“We don’t know for sure,” Patton sighs, stretching a little and rubbing his face, “Janus and I just went up to try and talk to him and found him like that.”

“So it didn’t happen after the wedding?”

They wince and Virgil pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Look, I may not have been there, but I know what happened. And no,” he says, raising his voice a little when both Patton and Janus try to say something, “I’m not interested in your excuses. But if you’re gonna try and tell me you don’t think it’s related I will throw a chair at your head.”

Patton bows his head, twisting his hands together in his lap as shame and guilt color his face. “He…he said something.”

“What did he say?”

“That he couldn’t be a prince,” Janus finishes, looking at the table, “and that he had to start over.”

Fuck.

“A-and he felt like he needed my permission for…everything,” Patton continues, “and Virgil, he looked so scared.”

“Of course he did.”

They turn to look at Logan, still staring up the stairs with gentle concern on his features. Virgil pokes his arm when he doesn’t continue right away.

“Roman’s sudden de-aging is likely due to stress,” he explains, looking back at them, “and thus the initial mindset he had when he regained consciousness as a child was fear. Fear of not knowing what to do or of doing something wrong.”

Patton gulps. Virgil shoots him a soft look and he nods slowly. “I…we were going to talk to him. We…I have been putting pressure on Roman since…it’s been a long time.”

“I think we all have.” Virgil’s gaze darts to Janus who is still all drawn up and inspecting his glove. “And you can turn that off, please.”

Janus sighs and Logan has to blink at how much his character shifts. Janus tugs nervously on his glove and straightens his hat.

“Roman is incredibly fragile right now and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Keeping that off around him is probably a good start.”

“We will need to ask Roman how much he remembers.” Logan adjusts his tie. “What he does remember will dictate how we need to help him.”

“Praise and reassurance.”

Logan raises an eyebrow at Janus who shuffles under his gaze.

“Praise and reassurance,” he repeats, tugging on his glove again, “he…he likes having a sense of structure. To know he’s doing something right.”

The regretful undertone to the words tells them all exactly how he knows that.

“We cannot let him believe that we are only behaving this way toward him because we believe he needs to be fixed,” Logan says firmly, “because that isn’t true. If this is a result of Roman feeling…unloved, then we must show him that he is.”

The word ‘unloved’ gets stuck in his throat and he clears it. Around him, the others are showing similar signs of discomfort.

Roman…their Roman. The idea that he wouldn’t feel loved—that he doesn’t feel loved sits strangely. Like a puzzle piece that just doesn’t fit, even though it has to go there.

While this lovely conversation is happening, of course, they’ve forgotten that there’s someone else who’s noticed the absence of a singing prince.

Remus doesn’t bother entering his brother’s room the normal way, instead sinking straight through the ceiling, fully intending to drive his elbow into Roman’s stomach.

What happens instead is he lands on Roman’s mattress with a dissatisfying thump as a tiny thing squeaks and scurries under the desk.

Remus sits up, frowning at the trembling figure underneath Roman’s desk and peers closer. Did Roman make a new pet for them to join on adventures? Is this one of the villagers that got too hurt and needed to be brought back here to recover?

Only when he sees the eyes peering shakily out at him do his own widen in realization.

“Roro?”

“R-Remus? Re?” And fuck, yeah, that’s Roman’s little head poking out from under there as he scrambles out. “Re? Are—are you back?”

Remus blinks. “Sure, Ro-Bro, I’m back, what—oof!”

A pint-sized pugilist rams itself into Remus’s stomach and knocks him backward onto the bed as his arms instinctively fly around the mass. He looks down, panting, only to see little Roro shaking with the effort of holding onto Remus as tightly as he can. His ribs are starting to protest when Roman turns his head and a cold nose tucks itself right into the crook of his elbow.

“Hey, hey, Roro,” Remus croaks, clumsily petting Roman’s head, “you’re okay. I’m right here, you got me good, I’m not going anywhere.”

“You—they said you were never coming back—everyone hated you, I—they made me say I didn’t like you—they said I was you but they don’t like you and I—I’m sorry—“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow your rolls and buns there, Roro, take in some oxygen before you pass out on me.” Remus wraps his arms gently but firmly around his now-panicking little bother—brother, pulling him securely into his lap. He has to pry Roman’s grip off of him a little but quickly reattaches the little limpet. “There you go, see? You got me! I’m trapped! I can’t go anywhere!”

His jokes don’t seem to work. If anything, Roman clutches him tighter, trembling in his hold.

“You gotta breathe for me, Ro-Bro, come on…in and out, you can do it.” Remus starts to take big slow breaths, feeling Roman start to copy him. “There you go, Roro. Just like that.”

Little Roman dissolves into a shaking and trembling puddle, cold nose buried in the crook of Remus’s neck as hot tears begin to trickle down his cheeks.

“Hey, hey, what’re those for? You’re safe, Roro, I gotcha, you got me, we got each other. We’re not playing right now, I’m not trapping you, what’s up?”

“Y-you’re—you’re back,” Roman wails, “you’re back, you’re back, don’t go—“

“I’m not going anywhere, Roro, I promise.” He gives Roman a light squeeze. “I’ve gotcha.”

Remus is very glad he actually washed his hands this morning as he begins to wipe away Roman’s tears. His hands are damp within moments but he keeps going, letting the little limpet wipe his nose on his costume and not giving a single flying fuck. Roman’s red nose keeps sniffling so Remus lays back against some of the pillows, heaving the little beast on top of him to have him settle down. Roman does, eventually, slumping into a sprawl all over Remus’s chest. Remus rubs his little brother’s back and nuzzles the top of his head.

“D’you want to tell me what this is all about, Roro?”

Roman mumbles.

“I can’t hear you, Ro-Bro, you gotta speak up.”

He can feel Roman’s throat work against him. “I couldn’t be the prince so I had to start over. Couldn’t—couldn’t do it right.”

“Do what right, Roman,” Remus asks, slowly tightening his grip on his brother again, “what couldn’t you do?”

“Kept messing up. Messed everything up.” Roman’s voice starts to choke off again. “Had—hadda make it right. Wanted to go back to—to—to—when it was okay.”

‘Okay.’

Yeah, nothing about this is ‘okay’ right now.

“Well,” Remus says, resolutely ignoring that for the time being, “why don’t we do something fun?”

Roman nods eagerly, pushing himself up so fast his hands slip and he falls face-first down on Remus’s chest again. Remus chuckles and helps him sit up.

“Wanna go into the Imagination?”

Roman’s smile falters. “We need permission.”

“No we don’t, we’re Creativity. That’s our domain. We run it, we decide when we get to go in!”

But Roman shakes his head stubbornly. “N-no, we—we have to ask first. And I don’t want you to get in trouble f-for me.”

“They can try and make me be in trouble,” Remus sniffs, “but it won’t go well for them.”

Roman looks up at him, expression changing as he slowly reaches up to cup his hands around Remus’s face. “I wanna be like you.”

Remus’s chest clenches. “You want my mustache?”

Roman makes a face. “No. I want—I want to be as sure as you are that nothing bad can happen. I want that.”

Ah, fuck. They had a joke going when they were—well, when both of them were smaller that Roman got the Ego, Remus got the Pride. He never—well, kids hold ideas and let them go. He tossed that one over his shoulder a long time ago. Roman, it seems, never did.

“Hey,” Remus says instead, reaching to cup Roman’s face in his hands, “you’ve got it, Roro. It’s yours too. You just gotta look for it.”

“But that’s hard.”

“Nothing worth doing is ever easy,” he says, fighting back a joke that he knows Roman won’t understand.

“…you’re really smart, Re.”

“Well—“ he chucks him lightly under the chin— “you’re the one that taught me that.”

Roman’s little face smiles and oh, Remus could rip his fucking thumbs off.

“If you don’t want to go into the Imagination we could always do something here.” Remus jumps off the bed and starts rifling through his ideas. Well, most of them aren’t…something he would do when Roman is this small. “…paint?”

There it is. Roman’s face lights up and he scrambles off the bed to join Remus. “Painting? Can we paint together?”

“Sure. One big canvas, let’s see, you wanna help make it?” They put their hands together and slowly draw a big rectangle in the middle of Roman’s room. “Good job, Ro-Bro, it’s just the right size.”

His brother almost glows at the praise. “Now all we need is—“

“Paint!”

They both turn to each other with their hands full of it. Roman has several bottles clutched in his little hands and Remus is juggling an armful of tubes. They drop them all over the floor and Remus rubs his hands together.

“What’re we gonna paint?”

“The canvas!”

“Yeah, I mean—“ Remus’s jaw drops open when Roman just pours paint onto his hand and smears it across the canvas— “whoa.”

Wrong reaction to have. But the second he sees Roman’s brilliant grin start to fade, he jumps straight on the fuck-that train and grabs another bottle. Soon they’re smearing paint all over the canvas. They end up creating a pretty good gradient of pinks and blues and reds and oranges and yellows. Then Remus grabs a green tube and just squirts it right onto the canvas.

“Hey!” Roman rubs his cheek. “You got paint on me!”

“I think you got paint on you.” Because when your brushes are your hands and you rub your face, paint goes onto your face.

“It was green! You put the green on me!”

Remus grins, bending closer and pretending to examine Roman’s cheek. “I dunno, Roro, I can’t see any green on there.”

Roman grabs a tube of red paint—

“Whoa, hey, there—“

—and squirts it onto the canvas. But mostly Remus.

“Oh, that’s it.”

The two of them spend the rest of the time splashing paint around, not caring about whether it gets on the actual canvas or the canvases they’ve made out of each other. Remus ends up with red splattered across his sash—not a bad look—and a bright blue handprint on his chest. Roman ends up with some green in his hair and streaks of purple down his arms. They’re laughing too hard to be spiteful about it as they chase each other around the canvas, each trying to get their hands on the other first.

If Roman never sees the others opening his door a crack, only to smile and leave them be when they see Remus and the paint with him, it’s perfectly fine.

Remus ends up using his size to his advantage and scooping the little monster up into his arms. He spins him around, laughing maniacally as Roman shrieks and squeals. He holds onto his brother’s arms, head thrown back as they whirl there.

“I win,” Remus pronounces as he sets Roman—carefully!—back down, “you lose.”

Roman giggles, reaching up to poke Remus’s nose with a bright red finger. “No, I win!”

“We both win.” Remus shakes his head only for some of his hair to stand straight on end—the only straight thing in this room—from the paint. “Uh…we should wash this off.”

Roman examines his paint-colored self, his gray shirt and shorts now absolutely awash with rainbow. “Yeah, probably.”

Remus looks at him and gently touches the fabric with his fingers. Roman’s eyes widen as the fabric changes from having paint on it to the colors being part of the fabric itself.

“Whoa! That’s so cool!”

Remus chuckles. “You’re welcome, Roro. Now let’s get cleaned up. I’m sure you’re gonna get hungry in a little bit.”

They make their way to the shower where Remus gets them out of their paint-covered clothes and squeaky clean. Roman’s eyes start to droop as Remus massages the shampoo into his hair.

“You can close your eyes, Ro-Bro, I gotcha.”

And if little Roman is so tired he can barely keep his eyes open long enough to put on pajamas after they get out of the shower, then Remus will happily carry him to bed. Of course the little limpet decides to latch onto him but there are worse fates. He resigns himself to being a personal pillow and stretches out, rubbing Roman’s back to help soothe him to sleep.

There’s a soft knock on the door and Logan eases it open. Remus has a quip on the tip of his tongue at the way the nerd’s expression melts at the sight of little Roro.

“Asleep, then?”

“Mhm.”

Logan glances at their painting. “I must say…it’s spectacular.”

Remus looks at the painting. An abstract swirl of colors and splatters that looks like the perfect chaotic nonsense. He’s more proud of it than expected too.

“He seems happy,” comes Logan’s soft voice, calling his attention back as he sits on the edge of the bed, “or…happier.”

Remus runs a protective hand down Roman’s back. “He said he missed me.”

“Well, yes, I suppose that…being suddenly reverted to an age where you two were together would—“

“No,” he says firmly, “he missed me. When he was big too, Lolo.”

Logan winces. “Oh, dear.”

“Has he told you why this…happened?”

“Not me explicitly, no.” Logan looks up and waits. “Did…did he tell you?”

“He said he wanted to go back to when everything was okay.”

Logan’s eyes widen. Oh. Oh, dear. “He…the last time he was okay…”

Remus’s sharp nod only confirms it. Logan lets out a breath as Roman’s hands twitch in his sleep. Unbidden, the impulse to reach out and squeeze comfortingly rises up sudden and sharp and he reaches out, covering the little one’s hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“He wasn’t supposed to get hurt,” Remus whispers, “when—when they took us away, they—they were allowed to do whatever they wanted to me, but—but not my brother.”

“Never again,” Logan promises low in his throat, touched by Remus’s sudden display of vulnerability, “you won’t be separated.”

Quite frankly, as he watches Remus tighten his grip on Roman, he’d like to see the others try.

As it turns out, that isn’t anywhere near their realm of possibility. When Roman wakes a little while later to them talking quietly with a rumble in his stomach, Remus carries him downstairs as Patton starts making dinner. Logan has to hide a smile at the way Virgil mouths ‘oh my god’ and Janus stuffs his fist up to his mouth to hide the coo. Patton clumsily answers Remus’s question about whose night it is to help—his—and gently asks Roman if he can set him down.

“You won’t go far?”

“I’ll be in the kitchen the whole time.”

“Here,” Virgil calls, holding out his arms, “I’m the softest thing in this room. Give him to me.”

He’s gonna regret that later but not right now. Not when little Princey is deposited into his lap and promptly snuggles right up to his chest and sighs. Virgil wraps his arms around little Roman and sits back against the couch, absentmindedly scrolling on his phone as his breath warms the top of Roman’s head.

“V-Virgil?”

“Yeah, Princey?” Virgil winces when Roman tenses. “Sorry, sorry, I forgot. What is it, Roman?”

Roman’s hands clench and unclench in his hoodie. “Do…do you miss the other me?”

Well. Don’t start off easy or anything, kid.

Does he?

He’s gonna be honest, he does miss Roman. Misses the banter, misses the confidence, misses the warmth of walking into a room and seeing Roman there. He misses the feeling that Roman would always come up with something, even when things seemed hopeless he would be there to try.

But even though he’s had this Roman for two minutes, he already knows he’d miss him like a lost limb. This Roman, who is all clumsy affection and easy smiles and soft cuddles.

“I miss him,” he decides on eventually, “but you’re my Roman too.”

Roman’s little face is too cute. It’s illegal. Who allowed this?

“Your Roman?”

“Yeah,” Virgil says, giving the boy’s hair a gentle tug, “you’re our Roman.”

Roman’s hands tug gently again. “E-even if I’m not a prince?”

Ah. Virgil sits up a little and pulls Roman into his lap properly. “You were our prince because we thought that was what you wanted to be.”

“Even if I wasn’t good at it?”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Virgil swallows the curses and pulls Roman into a tight hug, muttering into his shoulder.

“You were good at it, Roman,” he mumbles, “you were the best prince. You were the best prince because you were our prince. And you were our prince because you were Roman first.”

He can feel Roman’s jumpy little breaths before he’s hugged with a ferocity that takes him by surprise. But he’s not complaining.

“So I can be a prince?”

“If you want to be.”

There’s a pause during which Virgil pointedly does not make eye contact with Janus, before Roman speaks again.

“…I, uh, I think I’d be okay with the nickname, then.”

“Princey?” Roman nods and Virgil grins. “Okay, Princey.”

When he pulls back, there’s a little smile on Roman’s face that stays throughout dinner.

“Well,” Patton says as they start to clear the dishes away, “I’d say it’s a good night for a cuddle pile, wouldn’t you?”

“A splendid idea.” Logan closes the dishwasher. “Down here?”

“Might as well.” They start to organize, Logan directing the creation of the mattress and pillows, Patton and Virgil moving the blankets. Roman looks around for a moment, waiting, before Janus beckons him over to the last of the fading sunlight by the window.

“We,” he says gently as he coaxes Roman to lie down, “have the most important job.”

“What’s that?”

“We’re the ones that get tired first.” To prove a point, Janus lets himself yawn, big and wide. Sure enough, little Roman yawns too. “When Logan tells us all where to go, it’s our job to start being tired so the others have an easier way of settling.”

“That sounds like we have an excuse to fall asleep.”

“That too.”

Roman giggles and it makes Janus’s chest feel light.

“Come here, little prince,” he murmurs, opening his many arms to gather the little one to his chest, “there you are. You look tired, go ahead and close your eyes, it’s alright.”

Roman shifts a little in his grip. “…Janus?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Are…are you gonna take care of me?”

Janus pulls back a little, enough to cup Roman’s face in his hand. “Of course, sweetie, I will always take care of you.”

“N-no matter what?”

“No matter what.” He leans down to gently knock his forehead against Roman’s and press a chaste kiss there. “I’ve got you, little prince.”

The weight of the acts gone without acquittance sit heavily in his stomach, but with Roman cradled tenderly in his embrace, they start to get a little more bearable.

“Come on, cuddle bugs,” Patton calls, hands stroking gently through their hair, “let’s get you onto the mattress.”

Janus uncurls first, only for Roman to blink sleepily up at him.

“Do you need to be carried, sweetie? Is that it, little prince?”

Roman nods and blearily holds up his arms, letting out another squeaky yawn. He makes a few grabbing motions at Logan as he adjusts the last pillow.

“Ah, come here, little one,” Logan murmurs, picking him up, “let’s lie you down, shall we?”

The others join them in their pajamas, Roman’s head in Logan’s lap as he sits against the foot of the couch. Logan’s hand tangles in his hair, nails dancing over his scalp to encourage him to sleep.

“You’re safe, little one,” he promises, “just close your eyes. We’ll be right here for you when you wake up.”

Roman blinks up at him lazily, eyes wet with sleep as he nuzzles into Logan’s stomach. Logan keeps up the soothing rhythm of fingers in his hair, nails across his scalp, until the little one yawns away and closes his eyes. Only when sleep begins to call to him too do they shift, one of Roman’s hands on his chest, the other in Remus’s shirt as his head tucks into the crook of Logan’s shoulder.

The little prince falls asleep, surrounded by the warmth of his family.

————————

Roman blinks awake.

His ceiling doesn’t look like his ceiling and there’s a weight on his stomach that definitely isn’t a pillow. He cranes his head up to look around and his mouth drops open when he sees a slumbering Virgil lying with one arm around him. He turns his head a little more and comes face to face with Logan’s sleeping visage. Remus’s whistling snores are in his ear.

He risks sitting up a little farther, only to see Patton and Janus at the edge of the frankly giant mattress they’ve seem to set up on the floor of the living room. The two of them are almost protectively positioned, guarding the rest of them from whatever would plague them in the night.

His head is a little fuzzy and he can’t remember much of how they got here. Flashes come to him. Pretzels, paint, something about the word ‘prince.’

But, right now, with Logan’s chest rising and falling as Janus mumbles something in his sleep, he can’t be too bothered to worry about it.

Roman settles back down onto the mattress and closes his eyes. As he drifts off to sleep, a small smile touches the corners of his mouth.

For the first time in a long time, he feels okay.

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[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Merlin becomes a little obsessed with time, and how it’s running out:

Merlin struggles with a massive workload, and doesn’t understand how to ask for help, even with the simplest tasks, because people are relying on him. For small things, and large. He can’t let anyone down. He can’t.

REQUESTED

TW: not eating or sleeping properly, a little blood

Merlin is tired.

No one really notices the exhaustion, not at first anyway, what they do notice, is how much busier he seems to be.

He’s rushing around the castle so quickly, fetching and carrying things for Gaius, completing various chores for King Arthur, and trying to fix any problem he comes across (both the mundane, and the... less so), that no one sees him for long enough to notice the bags under his eyes. No one notices the way he sways on his feet if he stands still long enough. And if they do notice? Well, he’s rushing off to complete the next task on the list before they can say anything.

The few times he’s stopped to chat, he’s been quiet; polite but not really friendly.

His friends brush it off at first, he’s always been the type to rush places, and they figure he’s just got a lot of things to organise with the Yule celebrations coming up.

It had never really occurred to Merlin, but being the King’s Personal Manservant actually made him one of the most highly ranked servants in the castle. And that meant, everyone asking him for help, all the time.

Anything in the castle that could possibly concern The King, even briefly, was run by Merlin first. Everything from flower arrangements, to the week’s dinner menu, to which chambers to house guests in, to when exactly The King would like this paperwork completed.

It wasn’t too bad at first, Merlin had managed to stay on top of things for years, even during busier times such as these.

But this winter was different somehow. 

Merlin was a fully trained physician by this point, and he didn’t like to think about it much, but Gaius was getting older, quicker and quicker it seemed.

This just meant that more and more of the excursions that Gaius used to take outside the Physician’s chambers, were now being passed on to Merlin. 

He valued the trust that Gaius placed in him, but a trip to the lower town to treat this year’s strain of flu took him away for almost a week.

Long nights consoling young children who were in pain, followed by long days making it to as many houses as possible, to treat as many people as possible, meant he lost out on a lot of sleep. Especially since his mind was thinking about a million other things at the same time.

After finally getting the outbreak under control, he made quick work of the journey back to the castle, only to find a list of various speeches that needed writing and chores to catch up on, and a long line of panicking servants who needed whatever duties they had double checked.

Merlin had barely caught up on all of that work, staying up late through the night, when a second outbreak occurred in a different section of the city.

Gaius had made it clear to The King that the people’s health, and therefore Merlin’s position as Secondary Physician, should come first; Arthur whole heartedly agreed, and gave Merlin the time off to deal with it happily enough, but that didn’t erase the huge list of things he still had to get done when he returned.

He was only gone for three days this time, but with Yule getting closer and closer and foreign nobles arriving for the celebrations, Merlin had a ridiculous number of things to do when he got back. 

The headache that had been coming and going over the last month soon became permanent, and the shaking in his hands became something he had to actively account for any time he carried something heavier than a plate.

~

Merlin was rushing from the kitchens to the stables after dropping off Arthur’s empty breakfast tray when he heard it.

He paused in the corridor, leaning his weight against the cold stone of the wall as he strained his ears.

Just as he was about to write it off as him hearing things due to the lack of sleep, he heard it again, clearer this time, like someone was crying just on the other side of the stone.

He backtracked down the corridor a few metres, and slowly pushed open the door to a storage room, only to see Annabeth, the castle’s youngest serving girl, having a cut on her cheek being cleaned by George.

The both of them look up in shock at the intrusion, and Merlin clenches his fists as he sees the tears on Annabeth’s cheeks. He is especially worried when he sees the concern, painted clear as day on George’s face. George who was well know for being the least reactionary, most expressionless servant in the castle.

He shuts the door behind him, and walks forward, putting a hand on the girl’s shoulder. She immediately launches herself forward, and begins crying once again into Merlin’s chest.

He almost falls back, barely able to carry his own weight right now, let alone the weight of a distraught young girl, but thankfully George notices his imbalance and catches him with a firm hand on his back.

Merlin gives him a grateful, but bleary smile, as he strokes a comforting hand up and down Annabeth’s back. 

He nods to the bloody cloth in George’s other hand, and raises a questioning eyebrow.

George catches his meaning quickly, and replies in a quiet, but harsh voice:

“Lord Anselm reported that his manservant had taken ill, and requested that Annabeth take over. He was... displeased, with a dropped pillow.”

Merlin frowns in worry, as the girl, barely even fourteen summers, looks up at him with red eyes:

“I didn’t even drop it, it fell off his bed when I had my back turned. But he started yelling and he... he threw an empty goblet at me and then got even angrier at that mess. He wouldn’t let me leave for ages he was just standing over me and screaming.”

Merlin can see George tense in anger out the corner of his eye, and he calmly shushes the girl, wiping away her tears and giving her a small smile:

“He shouldn’t have done that, it wasn’t your fault. George is going to take you to Gaius, to get that looked at properly, and I’ll deal with Anselm until his manservant gets better, ok?”

George frowns slightly, but Annabeth speaks up before he can say anything:

“You won’t get in trouble, will you Merlin?”

Merlin gives her a cheeky wink and ruffles her hair:

“I’m always in trouble.” She giggles slightly, and Merlin counts that as a win.

She steps back, and George takes her hand, but he looks at Merlin, speaking quietly once again:

“Are you sure? I know you’ve got a lot of work at the moment, you can drop her off at Gaius’ and I can serve Lord Anselm, if you like.”

Merlin shakes his head, but realises quickly that was a bad idea as his vision starts swimming. He closes his eyes tightly for a few seconds and takes a deep breath, before looking back at an obviously concerned George and replying:

“No, it’s fine, I can deal with him. All those bloody quests Arthur drags me on means I’m well equipped to deal with people like Lord Anselm. Though I would appreciate it if you could pass by the stables and let them know to have Arthur’s horse prepared for noon, tomorrow.”

The fact that George’s lip twitches only slightly at Merlin’s address of the King, tells Merlin that the man is truly worried about Annabeth, and now probably Merlin’s safety as well.

He nods his head slightly, with a quiet “Of course.” and with that, the three of them leave the storage room.

They head in opposite directions, but after moving only a few feet, George looks back and calls to Merlin over his shoulder.

Merlin turns, slowly this time now that dizziness has become a problem, as George asks with a frown:

“Are you sure you’re alright, Merlin?”

Merlin gives him a small nod and smile, before waving him off:

“Yeah, I’m fine, just tired. I’ll see you later.”

George’s frown deepens, but he nods slightly, and turns back around again, leading Annabeth in the direction of the Physician’s chambers.

Merlin took a deep breath and rubbed harshly at his eyes as he watched them turn the corner, before turning in the opposite direction, and making his way to the guest chambers.

Lord Anselm was a visitor from a neighbouring kingdom, known for his harsh treatment of anyone he deemed below him (which... to be honest... was everyone, as far as he was concerned). He was here for the Yule celebrations, and to suck up to the King no doubt.

Merlin paused outside the room, taking another deep breath and trying to not look so exhausted, before knocking politely on the door.

A voice grumbles from the other side, calling for him to enter.

Merlin entered slowly, and shut the door behind him, immediately spying the Lord eating his breakfast at the table. He was an intimidating man, tall, even taller than Merlin, with a heavy gait, a thick beard, and a permanent scowl.

He looks harshly at Merlin, and roughly asks:

“Who the hell are you? Where’s my girl?”

Merlin clenches his hands behind his back, but replies neutrally, looking somewhere over the Lord’s shoulder:

“I’m afraid she has succumbed to an injury, and won’t be serving you anymore. I’m The King’s personal manservant, meaning I won’t be able to serve you full time. We’re a little understaffed at the moment, My Lord. Is there anything I can do for you this morning?”

The man growls and stands up, stalking quickly towards the manservant.

Merlin was especially glad that he was made aware of his balance and dizziness issues earlier, because if he hadn’t, he certainly wouldn’t have been able to hold himself upright when Lord Anselm swung a harsh fist to the side of his face.

He smirked horribly as he said:

“Insolent little thing, aren’t you? Are all of King Arthur’s servants so pretty?”

Merlin’s head rocked violently to the side, and he took a step back, before righting himself. He took a subtle deep breath as he winced in pain, but schooled his face back into indifference as he returned his gaze to just over The Lord’s shoulder:

“Would you like me to return your tray to the kitchen, My Lord?”

Anselm growled once more, obviously unhappy with the lack of reaction, and brought down a heavy hand on Merlin’s shoulder, leaning in close and snarling:

“You do that, pretty boy.”

Merlin waits impassively for him to release the bruising grip he had on his shoulder, before stepping around him and clearing away the tray.

Lord Anselm stared at him distastefully, but Merlin dutifully ignored it, and headed to the chamber door with the tray of leftovers and dirty plates. Anselm turns quickly towards him:

“Hurry back. I have things that need doing.”

For the first time since he entered the room, Merlin looks him straight in the eyes before saying:

“Like I said My Lord, we’re incredibly understaffed at the moment. I’m afraid no one will be able to serve you until your own manservant recovers from his illness.”

The shocked look on the Lord’s face gives Merlin just enough time to leave the room and hurry half way down the corridor, before Anselm followed him out.

Merlin heard the door bang off the wall as Anselm ripped it open, ready to shout, enraged, but the sight of the guards patrolling the corridor stopped him, and he slammed the door shut again with a huff.

Merlin let out a relieved breath. He had hoped that the sight of the guards would stop him from making a scene, and he was glad he was right.

One of the guards, an older man named Gavin who had always been kind to Merlin, stopped him with a hand on his (unbruised) shoulder:

“You alright Merlin? I though Annabeth was serving him?” He nodded at the other guard to continue on, mumbling that he would catch up in a minute, before looking back at Merlin, who blearily nodded:

“He threw a tantrum, hurt her. George took her to Gaius and I said I would deal with him.”

The guard frowned and muttered “bastard” under his breath, but widened his eyes as he saw the bruise blooming on Merlin’s cheek:

“Bloody hell, Merlin, do you always take over for the violent ones? You should get that checked out.”

Merlin sighs and shakes his head, only slightly:

“It’s fine, I’ve got too much else to deal with at the moment. The manservant he brought with him is sick, and Annabeth is certainly not serving him again, so I told him he would have to deal with minimal serving, until his servant gets better.”

Gavin let out a breath, and chuckled slightly:

“Pfft. Balls of steel, Merlin. Go on, you look in a hurry, I won’t keep you.”

With that, Merlin gives him a brief smile, before rushing towards the kitchens once again, trying not to feint the whole way.

~

The whole ordeal only pushed him twenty minutes behind, but twenty minutes was a problem when he was already three days behind on Arthur’s laundry, two days behind on stocking up on ingredients for Gaius, and two weeks overdue for a lunch with Gwen. 

Plus he still had one speech left to proof read, and considering Arthur wrote it himself, it’s more likely to end up being a full re-write, rather than a proof read.

OH, and that leak that he’d promised the stablehands he would help fix.

Ah shit. He also had to collect Gwaine’s spare sword from the blacksmith at some point, before he forgot again.

AND there was a huge delivery of flowers today, no doubt there would be some sort of problem with that.

All of that, on top of the fact that no one has tried to kill Arthur in recent weeks, and it was starting to unnerve him.

His journey to the kitchens went much like that. Task upon chore upon promise upon paranoid intrusive thought piling up in his head with every step.

He finally got to the kitchen doors, and paused outside. He took a deep, shaky breath, and shut his eyes tight, before forcing his mind to calm, and pushing through the door. 

The noise and smells immediately had him turn his head sideways, as if trying to escape the sudden onslaught, but the movement did nothing but force him to realise how much the side of his face had begun to throb.

He took another deep breath as the persistent noise, now in his mind, and out of it, made him want to scream. He resisted the urge, and dumped the tray next to the sink, before rushing out once again, ignoring the glares that the cook sent his way.

As he hurried down the corridor, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides in an effort to stop the shaking, he decided that laundry was the priority right now. If he could just get at least one basket done, that would be enough for today at least; and he could read over the speech whilst he did it.

Ok. ok. This is fine.

He finally made it to Arthur’s chambers, bursting in without knocking, and walking straight to the pile of dirty clothes. 

He doesn’t even have the energy to be annoyed at the fact that they were on the floor, instead of in the basket, and he certainly isn’t with it enough to notice the conversation between Arthur and George... wait... George??

Merlin is only lets his surprise distract him for a moment before he looks back to the laundry, bending over far too quickly, and having to hold himself up against the wall as his vision swims.

He vaguely hears George calling his name, but he waves his hand behind him absentmindedly and ignores him. He forces his eyes to focus again, as he picks up an armful of clothes.

He stumbles over to the desk, still not paying attention to the other two occupants of the room. He looks around blearily, once again beginning to clench and unclench his hands under the dirty clothes in his arms, just to stop himself from falling over.

He takes a deep breath, and interrupts whatever it is Arthur is saying:

“Speech.”

Arthur is clearly taken aback, having realised that Merlin hasn’t listened to anything either of them has said. George gives him a knowing look behind Merlin’s back, and Arthur frowns.

Merlin turns around, quick enough to make his vision blue once again, but not quick enough to make him fall over, and looks in Arthur’s vague direction:

“Speech. Where is it?”

Arthur gasps as he notices the now deep purple mark up the side of Merlin’s face and steps forward, George follows him, and takes the laundry from Merlin’s hands, and setting it on a chair before turning back to him.

He turns just in time to see Merlin almost tip backwards, and rushes forward, placing firm hand on his back once again.

Arthur slowly brings his hand up, concern written all over his face as his fingers hover just over the bruise:

“Merlin... what happened?”

Merlin rolls his eyes slightly as he turns back around to the desk, gently pushing George’s hand away and looking through the paperwork:

“Fell. Speech? I really do need it Arthur, I don’t have time.”

Arthur looks at George out the corner of his eyes, and George shakes his head, mouthing “Lord Anselm” .

Arthur frowns again, and picks up a piece of paper from his bedside table, going to hand it to Merlin, before snatching it back when he reaches for it:

“Not, until you tell me the truth, Merlin.”

Merlin huffs, and rolls his eyes again, before snapping:

“Fine, Lord Anselm punched me in the face because he’s a Lord and I’m a servant, and he can do whatever he wants to me and that’s nothing out of the ordinary. Speech. Please?”

In Arthur’s shock at Merlin’s bluntness, Merlin leans forward and grabs the piece of paper, before quickly turning away, ignoring the loss of vision at the sharp movement. He knew his way around Arthur’s chambers when he was asleep, he could manage a short black out.

He gathers up the laundry once again, and stumbles towards the door, interrupting Arthur’s:

“Merlin! Will you just-”

With:

“Don’t have time.”

And leaving the room before either of them can say anything more.

Arthur shakes himself free of the shock, and looks to George, bewildered:

“You really weren’t kidding were you? He’s completely out of it. Do you know what’s wrong?”

George frowns only slightly as he replies:

“It’s a busy time of the year My Lord, and we’re rather under staffed at the moment. Merlin has a habit of being unable to say no when people ask for help. That, on top of his normal duties to yourself and Gaius, and having to deal with the flu outbreak, I think- If I may speak freely, Sire?”

Arthur nods immediately:

“Of course, George, always.”

George nods gratefully before continuing:

“I think he’s just a little over-worked at the moment, My Lord. He’s never been good at asking for help.”

Arthur nods and hums thoughtfully. He thinks for a minute before looking back at the servant:

“Hmm. Keep an eye on him, won’t you George? I can’t have him keeling over, and make sure he gets some food in him.-”

George gives a firm nod:

“-Thank you, you’re dismissed, go back to your duties.”

With that, George turns and leaves the room, wiping the worried frown from his face and resetting it into his normal neutrality.

~

Merlin was unendingly grateful to find that the speech wasn’t actually that bad. By the time he finished hanging Arthur’s clothes to dry, he had a solid idea in his head of all the little bits he needed to tweak. He just needed to get a quill to it, and it’d be done and dusted.

He rushed as quickly as he was able without falling over, back to Arthur’s chambers, opening the door slowly this time; he really didn’t have the time to stop and chat, and if anyone was in there, he would just come back later.

Thankfully, the rooms were empty, and Merlin only had to spend around five minutes sat at the desk (where there was a small plate of food, labelled “For Merlin”, which of course went untouched. Deliberately ignored or just unnoticed, who knows), writing out his adjustments.

Five minutes however, was long enough for him to forget to not move too quickly, and the moment he tried to stand up, he immediately passed out. He fell back into the chair, and slumped forward onto the desk, his bruised cheek landing with a smack on the wood.

He woke again with a start, and jumped up quickly as he ran his hands through his hair roughly. He began to breath deeply, and tears came to his eyes as he brought his hands down roughly, gripping the edge of the table so hard he could feel his hands bruising.

Merlin, after managing to keep what he thought was a tight lid on it all day, was officially panicking.

His cheek was throbbing again, but he could barely feel it, only able to think about how much time he was wasting.

He can’t be taking naps now. He can’t. He doesn’t have the time. He’s still two days behind on laundry, two days behind shopping, two weeks since he’d last properly spoken to Gwen, he can feel a storm in the air so the leak HAS to be fixed now and Gwaine NEEDS his sword and where are those fucking flowers??

The more Merlin’s thoughts rush around his head, the more tasks he remembers that he needs to do, the more he panics. And the more he panics, the less he can breath, and the less he can breath, the more time, he is wasting.

When Merlin finally manages to open his eyes, which he hadn’t realised had been shut painfully tightly, he notices that the shadows on the walls have barely moved since he last checked.

Huh.

Ok.

He breaths slightly easier as he just about manages to drag himself over to a window, peering down into the courtyard below, to see that the castle was still busy.

He must’ve only been passed out for a few minutes at most.

It’s ok. There’s still time.

Merlin takes one last deep breath, pours himself a glass of water from Arthur’s jug and downs it all in one.

Ok. Too much to do, no more wasting time.

Merlin quickly straightens out the desk, leaving the speech in the middle for Arthur to see, and ignores the remaining fuzziness in his head as he stumbles out the door and down to the Physician’s chambers.

~

Merlin spends the next few hours down at the market.

He could feel his heart pounding louder in his ears with each second that he had to stand and wait in line, but it was no ones fault but his own that he had left the shopping too late.

He just had to be patient. Ignore the headache, ignore the pain in his cheek and shoulder, ignore the bruises on the palms of his hands from where he gripped the table, ignore the paranoid thoughts about assassins and poisoners and bandits.

By the time he made it back to Gaius’ chambers, it was dark. His hands shook violently, and he could barely see what he was unloading from his bags, but he kept pushing forward.

Without sparing a glance towards Gaius, he rushed out of the room again, now unhealthily used to the constant swimming in his vision, he dragged his hand along the stone walls of the castle corridor, and used that to navigate to the kitchen to pick up Arthur’s dinner.

The cook of course yelled at him about being late, but instead of brushing it off like he normally did, he internalised it.

He spent the whole journey up to Arthur’s chambers working himself up.

He was late. He was running out of time. He was so fucking tired. But that’s fine. That’s ok. One more job tonight, and he can rest. Just one.

He delivers Arthur’s food without a word, and if Arthur wasn’t worried before, he definitely was now.

Merlin lays out the meal, and quickly goes about lighting the fire for the night, and turning down The King’s bed. He turns to Arthur, not really bothering to focus his eyes and actually look at him, before saying:

“Anything else tonight, My Lord?”

The lack of sarcasm would be worrying enough to Arthur, but the way Merlin’s eyes stayed unfocussed, even as Arthur walked towards him, and the way his words slurred, almost sent him into a panic.

Merlin finally makes eye contact with him as Arthur grips his shoulders, but he quickly lets go when Merlin flinches in pain.

Fuck that hurt.

He’d forgotten about the bruised shoulder.

Arthur’s frown deepens:

“Merlin, are you alright? You look exhausted, you look sick. And you didn’t eat the food George left out.”

Merlin nods his head slowly, and moves towards the door, rolling his shoulder slightly to try and sooth the ache:

“Yeah yeah, I’m fine, and I’m not a dog Arthur. Just lots to do. Am I dismissed?”

Arthur nods slowly, but suddenly adds, as Merlin gets to the door:

“Yes, but only if you get something to eat and then go straight to bed. Get some sleep Merlin, whatever it is, can wait until morning.”

Merlin doesn’t look back at him, just waves his hand over his shoulder as he shuts the door behind him.

Ok. One more job. Just one more and then sleep. Maybe. He did have some useful new spells he needed to memorise... having as little time as he does means he should probably get at least a few done tonight.

Ok. One more job, then he can sit in bed and memorise some of those spells, then maybe he can get an hour or two of sleep before sunrise bought tomorrow’s jobs.

He headed over to the stables, at this time of night no one should be around, he can wave his hand, make some sparks, and the leak would be gone.

He halts in his tracks and his eyes widen as he subconsciously begins clenching and unclenching his hands once again.

No.

The stablehands know he promised to fix it. If they see it’s been fixed with some sort of miracle, instead of patched up properly, they’ll know.

Maybe he’s just being paranoid, but he’s also running on no food, no sleep, and a potential concussion. Trying to use magic right now was probably not his best idea.

He forces his hands to still, and continues his trek across the courtyard, towards the stables. 

The next time he stops, it’s because he hears the distinct sound of an armoured guard falling to the floor (the fact that he recognises the sound immediately, should tell you all you need to know about how insane Merlin’s life is).

Merlin rubs his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose briefly as he mumbles:

“For fucks sake, I knew it had been too long.”

Without wasting another second, Merlin turns back around, and sneaks carefully to where he’d heard the noise come from.

He finally spies the slumped guard by the main entrance to the castle, and after establishing that the attacker was long gone, he rushes over.

The growing puddle of blood, and lack of pulse, worries Merlin endlessly. Whoever did this was good, the guard never saw it coming, and now he was dead.

Merlin doesn’t want to leave him like this, but in all likelihood, the assassin was going to head straight to Arthur’s chambers, and Merlin had to catch up before he could do any damage.

The exhausted manservant rushes through the large doors, trying ever so hard to focus eyes, and not quite managing it, but powering through anyway. Thankfully he new the route to Arthur’s chambers by heart, he didn’t have to be able to see to know where he was going. 

He’s already out of breath before he even reaches the staircase that leads up to the royal chambers, but he doesn’t have the time to stop and catch his breath. Arthur was in danger, and as per fucking normal, Merlin was the only one that seemed to know anything about it.

He forced himself up the steps, being mindful of his weak legs and using the wall to pull himself up as quick as he could.

He swore to himself as he turned the corner to see the vague outline of a man with a dagger slip unnoticed through the doors to Arthur’s chambers.

Where the fuck were the rest of the guards?? Merlin had expected to see a few more bodies on his way up but there had been none. Shift change over maybe? In which case, how did the assassin know?

He pushes the thoughts to the back of his mind; something to worry about later, as he sprints down the corridor.

He almost falls several times, tripping over nothing but his own exhaustion, but he uses his own momentum to stop himself tipping over, forcing his feet to just keep moving forward.

He bursts into the room loudly, and the assassin, who had almost reached Arthur slumped over asleep on his desk, whips his head around to stare at him in shock.

The King mumbles from his spot on the desk:

“Merlin... I told you to get some sleep.”

That seems to snap the assassin out of his surprise, and he lurches towards Arthur, bringing the dagger up so he could swing it down viciously into his back, but Merlin rushes forward to meet him.

He shoves Arthur’s chair with as much force as he can muster, and steps into the space it had resided in as Arthur sprawls on the floor, cursing loudly.

It takes only a second for Arthur to be on his feet, a sword that was hidden under the desk gripped in his hand and any remaining sleepiness scrubbed from his face, but that second is all it takes for the dagger to sink with sickening force into Merlin’s shoulder.

Merlin gasps and staggers back as Arthur steps forward, swinging the hilt of his sword down onto the attacker’s head, and with a loud thunk, the would-be assassin drops to the floor, unconscious.

Arthur turns quickly towards Merlin, who was leaning against the wall, dagger still planted deeply in his shoulder, and once again curses loudly. He rushes forward to catch his manservant just as he falls, widening his eyes as he notices the rapidly growing crimson stain on his tunic:

“GUARDS!!” he yells it towards the still open door, but looks to Merlin as he mumbles:

“Shift... change. No one there yet.” with a groan.

Arthur curses for a third time, as he pulls Merlin’s uninjured arm around his neck, and starts to stagger towards the door, dragging Merlin, who is basically a dead weight at this point.

The manservant groans, not sure if it’s the constant, background panic that’s seemed to plague him the last few weeks, or the pain of the newest stab wound that’s making him dizzy, but either way... ow.

Merlin finally manages to raise his gaze to realise that Arthur is currently dragging him past the closest exit to the stables (god knows how they’d gotten that far without Merlin noticing), and he half-heartedly pulls away.

Arthur almost stumbles with Merlin’s sudden movement, but says strongly:

“No not that way Merlin, gotta get to Gaius, you’re going to ok, alright?”

Merlin’s breath deepens in panic, and Arthur, mistaking it’s meaning, says:

“Almost there, Merls, don’t worry, Gaius will fix you right up, just hang on a little more for me.”

Merlin tries to pull away again, going so far as to softly thump Arthur on the chest to make him let go (it doesn’t work, he’s far too weak):

“No... no, you don’t.... understand. I can‘t, I don’t.... I don’t have time.”

Arthur frowns at him, but continues moving in the direction of the Physician’s chambers. He turns his concerned face away from Merlin, to see two guards turning into the corridor ahead of them:

“HEY!! One of you go to my chambers to collect the would-be assassin, and one of you run ahead to Gaius to warn him we’re coming; deep stab wound to the shoulder. Tell anyone you might see to be on high alert, an attempt on my life has been made.”

Arthur growls as they just stand in shock, obviously taken aback at the sight of the King near dragging an almost dead-looking servant down the corridor towards:

“NOW!”

With that they jump into action, one of them sprinting back the way Arthur and Merlin had come, the other sprinting ahead, to warn Gaius.

Arthur looks back down to Merlin, trying to pick up his pace as he notices him grow weaker and weaker:

“Come on, only a few more corridors Merlin, then Gaius will take care of you and you can sleep it off. I’ll even give you tomorrow off, how does that-”

Before Arthur can finish his question, Merlin moans, and tries to pull away again:

“No... time. Too many things to do... not... no time. Leak...”

Arthur stares at him in confusion as Merlin trails off, but blinks in surprise, as he gains a sudden burst of lucidity again:

“NO! Leak needs... sorting. Flowers and... Gwaine’s sword. Check on... Annabeth-”

He pulls away from Arthur far more violently this time, and the King drops him as he staggers from the force.

Arthur curses and kneels down, panicked as he tries to get his arms under Merlin’s weight again. Which Merlin is making very difficult.

The manservant can’t really feel the pain at this point. All he knows is that time is passing. Time that should be spent fixing things. Whatever stupid thing Arthur wants right now needs to wait.

Leak. Then spells. Then catch up on laundry through the night. Then check on the flowers in the morning. Hopefully lunch with Gwen. Sword next. Then. Then he can maybe think about whatever is happening right now.

Arthur finally gets his hands under Merlin’s arms and pulls him up, growing more and more worried as Merlin tries to wiggle away, like he doesn’t want to get treated.

Only one more corridor.

Arthur continues his journey through the halls, breathing deeply with the exertion. 

Merlin had lost the last of his strength trying to escape, and the fall to the floor had knocked his other injuries slightly, so Arthur was forced to pick him up, carrying the limp man bridal style.

He finally made it to Gaius’ chambers, to see the guard holding open the door, and Gaius rushing around, gathering various ingredients and tools.

Arthur bolts through the door, not even looking at the guard as he spots the empty cot in the middle of the room, and carefully lays a clearly delirious Merlin down.

The dark haired boy continues to mumble, a frown etched deeply onto his features:

“No... time... too much else... to worry about...”

Arthur calms his own breathing before looking back to the guard:

“Make sure the alarm is sounded. Find out if the assassin was caught and report back to me as soon as you know anything. I’ll be here.”

The guard nods firmly before running out of the room, and Arthur turns his attention back to Merlin. He gasps as he notices blood dripping from the palms of his hands, and lurches forward, forcing Merlin’s fingers to uncurl.

Arthur realises with a numb horror, that something much more than the stab wound is wrong with his... friend. This isn’t even close to the worst injury he’s ever seen Merlin get, but still he lies here, panicking about something to such an extent that he drew blood with his own nails.

Gaius finally bustles over, and without even looking at him, forcefully tells Arthur:

“Hold him down, he’s in no sort of mental state for me to treat him awake, so I need to get this down him and he won’t... appreciate it.”

The King notices the vial of foul-smelling liquid in Gaius’ hands, and quickly moves around to stand behind Merlin’s shivering form.

He presses one hand down onto his uninjured shoulder, and bends over, leaning his other forearm across his chest, trying desperately to avoid aggravating the dagger still imbedded in his shoulder.

Once he’s secure, Gaius pinches Merlin’s nose, and pours the liquid into his mouth, quickly dropping the vial onto the table beside him, and massaging his throat to help it go down.

Merlin spasms for a few seconds and kicks out, but Arthur just about manages to hold him steady before he finally goes limp, his eyes rolling back, and his hands hanging off the side of the cot.

Arthur steps back, and collapses in a chair at Merlin’s side, before looking up at Gaius. The King watches the Physician bring over a pair of scissors and cut Merlin’s blood soaked tunic away, before examining the wound, and carefully removing the dagger.

Arthur tries to calm his heart rate, and takes deep breaths as he watches Gaius work, knowing that the injury, though bloody, was not life threatening.

At some point during the process of the wound being cleaned, stitched, and dressed, the guard from earlier had re-entered the chambers to say:

“The assassin was found and taken to the dungeons, sire. The castle is on high alert, and patrols are looking for any accomplices, though currently it appears the man was working alone. Two guards have been found dead, one at the castle gate, and one at the main entrance to the building.”

Arthur vaguely remembers nodding, and dismissing the guard; telling him to keep him updated, before focusing back on Merlin.

When Gaius finally slumps into the chair opposite Arthur, on Merlin’s other side, The King takes a deep breath, before asking quietly:

“What’s wrong with him, Gaius? I mean besides the obvious? George said-”

Before Arthur can finish, three thunderous pairs of feet burst through the door.

The King looks up to see Gwen, Gwaine, and Leon enter the room in a hurry. Gwen answers his questioning gaze with:

“The three of us were together when a guard told us what happened. Will he be alright?”

Gaius gives them a comforting, but strained smile, as they move towards the cot:

“He’ll be fine my dear, with time.”

Gwen moves quickly to stand by Arthur’s side, and takes one of Merlin’s limp hands in her own as she blinks away tears, her other hand covering her mouth. Gwaine rushes to the end of the cot, looking down at his best friend with a pained expression, and resting a hand on his leg. Leon steps into place above Merlin’s head, stroking a gentle hand through his hair, before focusing his concerned expression on Arthur in question.

Arthur huffs, but pays them no mind as he looks back at Gaius:

“Like I was saying, what’s wrong with him? George said he was acting oddly, and he seemed... almost sickly the last time I saw him. Then all the way here he was trying to get away from me, he just kept muttering about time, and saying he had things to do.”

Gwaine growls, and before Gaius can reply, he snarls out:

“You’ve been bloody overworking him, that’s what’s wrong. Look at him, he looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks.”

Arthur looks up, annoyed:

“That’s exactly why I’ve been giving him fewer chores, Sir Gwaine. I didn’t give him anything specific to do today, and when I told him he would have some time off on the way here, he freaked. Pulled away, I dropped him, and he just began muttering about not having time, having too much to do.”

Gwen clears her throat before timidly saying:

“He has been acting a bit strange. He seemed a little stressed after the first outbreak, but I figured that was normal for this time of year and let him be. Then he got back so late last night, and every time I saw him today he just seemed... more and more panicked. I tried to stop him a few times but he ignored me, like his mind was completely elsewhere.”

Arthur frowns at that, and Leon speaks next, his hand still absentmindedly carding through Merlin’s hair:

“Hmm. He’s been looking unwell; swaying on his feet, leaning on walls. I saw him in the market earlier today and he looked about ready to feint, but I was pulled away by a few guards. When I looked back again, he was stumbling away in the opposite direction. He looked in a rush, so like Gwen, I let him be. Perhaps he hasn’t been sleeping well?”

Gaius looks grim, and nods:

“I heard him moving about all through last night. I got up to offer him a sleeping draught but he refused, saying he had things to do. I got the impression this morning that he didn’t sleep a wink. And I remember what the yearly flu excursions were like, I doubt he slept any better whilst he was treating people in the lower-town.”

The three of them look troubled. How had they let it get this far? Merlin was clearly some sort of sick, and no one had noticed until he was ignoring stab wounds and clawing at his own skin.

Leon tilted Merlin’s head, frown deepening as he spots the purple bruise over his cheek, now also stretching up into his temple and into his hairline. His voice came out a mumble, as if he were speaking to himself:

“What happened here?”

Arthur’s face darkened, and he replied lowly:

“Lord Anselm. I informed him to leave my kingdom and told him not to come back until he could refrain from beating my staff.”

Leon nodded, face angry, and Gwaine replied:

“Bet he didn’t like that, the bastard.”

Arthur looked up at Gaius, and cleared his throat before asking:

“What do you suggest, Gaius? He’s clearly not... ok.”

Gaius sighed once more, looking down at the man who had become his son, before saying quietly:

“I imagine all three of us are right, in a way. He’s overworked, stressed, and lacking sleep. That mixed with a punch hard enough to give him a mild concussion, and the fact he likely hasn’t eaten very well over the last few weeks, led to a... miniature break down, of sorts.-”

He looks up at Arthur, who is struggling to hide how distraught he is, with grim determination:

“-He will need time off to recover. More than a few days, likely. And support. He has learnt to rely on no one but himself in recent years. Dealing with a workload that multiple people would struggle with all on his own, was almost certainly what led to his obsession with time, time running out. You will need to reassure him that any tasks he is worried about are being completed just fine without him, otherwise he’ll panic.”

Arthur nods before replying, his voice thick:

“Of course. Whatever he needs. He mentioned... a leak? And flowers, Gwaine’s sword. He mumbled a few other things as well, but I couldn’t hear him. He said something about Annabeth?”

Gaius rubs his eyes as he nods slowly:

“Yes, George bought Annabeth by earlier. Lord Anselm had hurt her and Merlin sent the two of them here before he went to deal with the Lord.-”

He looked up to see Arthur sporting a vicious frown, and continues:

“-She’s fine now, just a little shaken, her injuries will heal in a week or so. The other things he mentioned to you though...”

Arthur sighs, but Gwen speaks up, still clutching Merlin’s hand, before he can say anything:

“I overheard some of the stable-hands worrying about a leak in the stable, knowing Merlin, he probably offered to help them. And the flowers... well there was supposed to be a delivery today, for the feast decorations, but it hasn’t arrived yet.”

Arthur nods, and Gwaine swallows, looking a little guilty, before saying:

“He ran my spare sword to the blacksmith about a week ago, for repairs. I told him there was no rush, but he must’ve got in a panic about it.”

Arthur nods, but raises his eyes to Gwen in confusion:

“Ok, the sword and the leak I understand, but the flowers? Why would a castle delivery be any concern of his??”

Gwen widens her eyes in surprise, and Leon makes a disbelieving noise, before saying:

“Sire, with all due respect, Merlin is the King’s Personal Manservant. Of course it concerns him.”

At the growing confusion on Arthur’s face, Leon sighs. He drags a chair forward, and sits in his place behind Merlin’s head as he continues to absent-mindedly run his fingers through the man’s hair:

“My Lord, everything that has anything to do with you, gets run by Merlin first. Pretty much every non-political decision not directly made by you, is made by Merlin. I always thought it was rather hilarious that he didn’t seem to realise how much power he has within the castle.”

Arthur widens his eyes in realisation, and slumps back in his seat:

“I had no idea... no wonder he’s so exhausted all the time. He’s practically running the castle behind my back.”

Gwen nods sympathetically, but Gwaine still looks a little annoyed as he grinds out:

“Honestly princess. How did you think it was that the visitors you liked least were always housed in the chambers furthest away from yours? Or how the castle kitchen is always stocked up on your personal favourites? Or perhaps how council meetings always seem to be at a time most convenient for you, despite you never rearranging your own schedule? When we all joke about how you wouldn’t last a day without Merlin... we mean it. He doesn’t just dress you and feed you and sing you to sleep, he runs your whole life, mate.”

Leon and Gwen nod, and Arthur sighs, and the room goes silent for a few minutes, the only noise being Merlin’s ragged breathing.

Arthur finally straightens up, and nods to himself slightly:

“Right. Merlin gets every Monday off, no matter what, including his physician duties where possible. George is going to be reassigned as an... assistant of sorts; Merlin will hate it but I don’t care, he needs the help. He’s also going to get a bloody great big pay rise, and new chambers with a big desk. And that’s just to start with.”

Gaius raises his infamous eyebrow, but Arthur ignores it, he can see the hint of pride in his eyes. Gwen and Leon smile and nod, and Gwaine huffs before muttering:

“Yeah, that better be just to start with. Kid deserves the world.” 

Arthur stands from his chair and begins pacing, before looking back to the others in a hurry:

“Ok, Gwen, can you go find the Housekeeper, inform her that I want a few more servants to be hired, on a permanent basis. The castle is obviously understaffed if Merlin is the only one fixing everyone else’s problems. Take Gwaine with you, a guard informed me the assassin had been caught and was likely working alone, but just in case.-”

With that, Gwen nods and leaves, closely followed by Gwaine, who stops only to give Arthur a short, assessing gaze, before giving him a nod and leaving.

“-Leon, find the Steward, and George if you can. Find a set of chambers that can be reassigned to Merlin, and tell them to begin the process immediately. Not too big, he’d complain and refuse to use them but... oh you know what he’s like, I trust you’ll pick something to his... tastes.”

Leon gives Arthur another smile, before heading towards the door. Just before he can leave, Arthur calls out for him again:

“And if you could have a plate of food sent here as soon as possible. I don’t think he’s eaten all day and we’ll need to get something down him when he wakes up.”

Leon nods, and leaves without another word. Arthur collapses back into his chair before looking at Gaius, and blushing at the fond smile on the older man’s face:

“What?”

Gaius just shakes his head as his smile grows:

“Nothing, my boy. I’m just glad you’re finally realising at least a little of what Merlin sacrifices for you.”

Arthur frowns and tilts his head:

“You mean there’s more he’s giving up than sleep, food, and any and all free time he has?”

Gaius drops his smile fractionally, but covers it quickly (not quick enough that Arthur didn’t notice however) :

“Hmm. Nothing that you need to worry yourself over, My Lord.”

Arthur’s frown deepens:

“Well now I’m just going to worry about it even more. What is it Gaius? If you won’t tell me what the problem is, at least tell me the solution.”

Gaius settles a heavy, pensive gaze on Arthur, and stays silent for a few moments before answering slowly and quietly:

“A long time a go, I gave Merlin some... difficult, advice, pertaining to which secrets he should keep to himself. Perhaps when he wakes I shall rescind said advice. But ultimately, whether he tells you the true extent of his... well, truth, or not, is up to him. I advise you not to push him.”

Arthur huffs:

“So he’s hiding something from me?”

Gaius gives The King a sympathetic smile:

“He’s hiding a multitude of things from a multitude of people. There are very few people who know Merlin fully. His life has been... difficult, from birth, to such an extent that not even I’m aware of what’s going through his mind, the pain he suffers, and I live with him.-”

Gaius stops hesitantly, but Arthur nods for him to continue. He looks deeply troubled, before saying:

“All I can request Sire, is that, if he does decide that he trusts you enough to reveal himself fully, let him finish the story in it’s entirety before you start forming conclusions, and remember, that everything he does, he does for Camelot, for you.”

Arthur’s face shows slight confusion, but he nods firmly. He may not fully understand what on earth Gaius is talking about, but he has a feeling he’ll know it when he sees it. Plus, Merlin means a great deal to him, and the man obviously does a lot for him, the least Arthur can do in return is sit patiently and wait for Merlin to come to him with whatever truth Gaius thinks is so worrying.

~

It was late in the night when Merlin started to stir, only a few hours until sunrise.

Arthur and Gaius had both fallen asleep after checking over Merlin’s bandages. Gaius had settled in a cot in the corner of the room, and Arthur was curled up in his seat, Merlin’s hand clutched in his.

Arthur woke slowly at first, and then all at once, when he realised that Merlin’s hand was twitching in his own. He leaned forward on his seat, frowning, as he stroked Merlin’s forehead gently with his other hand.

Merlin’s eyes blinked open, as he muttered Arthur’s name. The King smiled gently, placing a comforting hand in the centre of Merlin’s chest, and squeezing his hand slightly:

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

Merlin frowns slightly, before he gasps with wide eyes and tries to sit up. Arthur pushes back gently against his chest, and Merlin is far too weak to do anything about it as Arthur speaks quietly:

“No no no, you stay right there. You need to get better before you start rushing around again.”

Merlin frowns and begins to breath deeply:

“No, I don’t have the time Arthur, there’s too much I gotta do.”

He tries to sit up again, but Arthur holds him down, struggling to think of what to say to calm his manservant down before he did more damage to himself:

“No there isn’t. You can’t do anything when you’re sick and injured, alright?-”

At Merlin’s panicked expression, Arthur hurries to continue:

“Don’t worry, Merlin. Gwen spoke to the housekeeper about hiring some new servants to help. I’m going to get Percival to fix the leak in the stable later, Gwaine doesn’t need his sword for at least a few days, and to be perfectly honest, he can get it himself. The housekeeper will deal with the flowers, and Annabeth is fine, Gaius saw her earlier and sent her home for the day. There’s nothing for you to worry about, ok?”

Merlin frowns, and blinks blearily, clearly beginning to lose his lucidity:

“Are you ok? The... assassin... looked pretty... pretty... serious...”

He trails off, but refuses to close his eyes, and lifts a shivering hand to loosely clasp Arthur’s wrist as Arthur replies:

“You haven’t slept or eaten properly in days, you’ve been smacked around and stabbed, and you’re asking me if I’m ok?”

At Merlin’s once again panicked expression, Arthur sighs:

“Yes Merlin, I am one hundred percent ok, and so is everyone else. The assassin was caught, everyone is safe, and there’s nothing that you need to think about right now. Let go, get some sleep.”

Merlin frowns indignantly, and murmurs:

“I’ve already... slept too... long... gotta-”

Arthur huffs before interrupting him:

“Being unconscious is not the same as being asleep. Go to sleep Merlin. I promise, I will wake you up if you are needed in any way... do... do you trust me?”

Merlin looks at him oddly, before his eyelids flutter shut and he goes limp. Arthur just about hears the muttered-

“More that anyone.”

-before Merlin passes out once again, and after waiting a few minutes to make sure he wasn’t faking it (definitely something Merlin would do), he collapses back in his chair.

Merlin really was sick.

Arthur huffs with annoyance at himself, how had he not noticed this sooner? Why hadn’t he pushed it when he came to collect the laundry? Why hadn’t he given Merlin a day off when he got back from the lower-town? Though, knowing Merlin, he probably would’ve spent all day working anyway, even if it wasn’t directly for Arthur.

Arthur’s thoughts are racing so much that he knows he isn’t going to get back to sleep, but it was far too early in the day for anything official to get done; the city was asleep. And besides, even if there was something to be done, Arthur found himself exceedingly unwilling to let go of Merlin’s hand.

So sitting here and thinking was his only option it seemed.

Gwen, Gwaine, and Leon had come back around an hour after he had sent them away, and he was more than pleased with what they had to report.

The housekeeper had drafted up notices asking for permanent, paid, help in the castle, to be distributed in the lower-town tomorrow (or... later today).

Leon and the Steward had found a suitable set of chambers for Merlin, about halfway between Arthur’s and Gaius’, small compared to Arthur’s rooms, but still bigger than the footprint of Merlin’s house back in Ealdor.

Arthur hadn’t managed to get any food in Merlin when he briefly woke up, but the plate that Leon had sent up still sat their waiting, and it would be ready when Merlin was lucid enough to eat.

Arthur was still very worried about the man he had grown to trust more than even himself, but he also trusted Gaius, and if Gaius wasn’t freaking out, then neither would Arthur.

~

The next few days were... difficult, to say the least.

It took a lot of persuading to convince Merlin to stay in bed, and even a few sleeping draughts slipped into his tea, courtesy of Gaius.

Merlin was also getting increasingly annoyed at all of his friends visiting him, and treating him like he was made of glass. 

He was getting desperate to leave the Physician’s chambers and get some work done, and Gaius was not best pleased when he caught the man trying to sneak out.

Gaius sternly told him to sit down and shut up for a minute whilst he explained why exactly he can’t get out of bed yet, and Merlin reluctantly sat back down, nodding at Gaius to start talking:

“Merlin, you hadn’t slept at all in at least seventy-two hours. You hadn’t slept well for the several weeks before that. You hadn’t eaten all day, and I imagine that you hadn’t eaten properly, again, for the several weeks before. You had a mild concussion and fractured collarbone, courtesy of Lord Anselm. Bruises on your hands from gods know what. Balance and dizziness issues caused by being medically exhausted. You are stressed far beyond levels that are even vaguely healthy. All of this, before you sustained a serious stab wound. Merlin, you had a panic attack, yesterday, over not being able to fix a leak. You can not keep working like this, or you will burn yourself out again, and then where will we be? You are of no use to anyone if you drop dead. So will you please, just trust that Arthur has things handled just fine without you.”

Merlin had the decency to look a little ashamed at first, but rolls his eyes when Gaius mentions Arthur:

“That man never has anything handled. Gods know how he’s even managed to get dressed the last few days.”

Gaius raises an eyebrow, an obvious “I dare you to argue with me right now” look if Merlin has ever seen one.

Merlin huffs before climbing fully back into his bed (still in the Physician’s chambers. Gaius advised against telling Merlin of all the changes that were happening until after he was better, otherwise he would... simply put, he would freak) and looking to his lap, frowning.

Gaius sighs, and puts a gentle hand on Merlin’s least-injured shoulder:

“Be patient, Merlin. You fail to realise how many people care about you, and how much. We would be devastated to lose you, it’s hard enough to see you suffer like this. So let yourself heal fully, if not for yourself, then for us.”

Merlin looks up at him tiredly (everything seems to tire him out at the moment) with tears in his eyes and Gaius leans forward to gather the boy in a hug.

Merlin falls into it easily, and buries his head in the crook of Gaius’ neck as the older man runs a hand through his hair. He sniffles slightly, before mumbling:

“I’m sorry.”

Gaius smiles sadly, not that Merlin can see it, before replying quietly:

“No need to apologise my boy, just get some sleep. I believe that Guinevere will be joining us for dinner later.”

Merlin nods before removing himself from Gaius’ arms, and settling back under the covers. He shifts until he’s comfortable, and whispers a soft goodnight (I mean... it’s the middle of the afternoon but he’s sleeping the nights and days away at the moment), before drifting off.

Gaius sighs once more, before leaving the room, shutting the door behind him quietly.

They had a long way to go. Physically, Merlin was well on his way to healing, but emotionally... well. He had a father-figure physician, a fellow servant, five boisterous but loving knights, and a King who may or may not be in love with him.

He’d get there. He just needed a little more time.

~

THE END

Thank you so much for requesting this anon, I had fun writing it! It kept getting longer and longer and I almost split it into two, but I just decided to go for it in the end.

I hope y’all enjoy! Same as always, you wanna write it up with proper paragraphs and extend it and everything, go for it, credit and tag me :)

Let me know if y’all want my thoughts on anything in particular!