#ACED LIKE WHAT DID I DO BESIDES ATTEMPT TO BEAT UP CHILDREN??

[ursaced]

aced: comes back

kh ux community: cancels him

[imomomi]

       AN: I imagine it goes a little something like this....

         The moment Kiyoomi agreed to meet Suguru for drinks he had regretted it. The ex-Nohebi captain had a talent for getting him to drink far more than he expected. Every time they hung out, Kiyoomi would end up stumbling home, pink cheeked and slurring his words.

          A beer bottle was pushed in front of him as Suguru flipped the sizzling pork-belly. Kiyoomi lowered the mask, thankful that they were situated in a corner booth and far from the students loitering in the middle of the restaurant. The slightly bitter aftertaste rushed in his mouth, chased down by a piece of pork belly so crisp it was almost burnt.

          As much as he grumbled about Y/N’s band of misfit cheats, he didn’t mind having a break from the fame that surrounded his life as a pro-player. Suguru was never hesitant to poke fun of him or cut him down for a bad game.

          “How’s the new team?” asked Suguru, in between bite of food.

          “Atsumu is as much of a pig as he was in high school and Bokuto is just as loud as ever,” answered Kiyoomi. A dark look crossed Suguru’s face at the mention of Fukurōdani’s former ace forcing a laugh out of Kiyoomi.

          “You shouldn’t have cheated. You might have gone to Nationals, if you hadn’t. Though, from the way Nohebi played, you wouldn’t have made it very far,” said Kiyoomi.

          “Shut up. It’s not like we had a top ace on our team.”

          “Which is why you should have practiced more.”

          “Yeah, let’s end this right there. Hearing this from a V-1 player is just depressing.”

          “I beat you in college, too.”

          “You’re an arrogant bastard,” Suguru muttered.

          “If you put enough effort and practice regularly and with care, anyone can be good. It’s not so much arrogance as an acknowl-“

          “Okay, you need another beer and more food,” Suguru said, cutting him off. He waved down a waitress, ordering far more stuff than either of them would eat. There was an unspoken rule that Kiyoomi would pay. It was payback for the money that Y/N regularly forced Suguru to cough up as compensation for being mean to her.

          “I wonder what would have happened if you guys met during our last qualifiers,” Suguru mused. Kiyoomi tilted his head in confusion.

          “What?” he asked.

          “Your second year. We were your opponents during the Spring Qualifiers.”

          “I remember. We won in straight sets.”

          “Did you really need to mention that?” Suguru grimaced, inhaling a mouthful of beer, “Y/N was injured, so we played without our manager. But, I’m pretty sure we dodged a bullet not having her there. The first time we lost, she spent an hour making fun of us afterward.”

          “How did she get injured? Where? How bad was the injury?” Kiyoomi asked in a rush. Had he been paying more attention; he would have noticed the gleam that entered Suguru’s eye.

          “It got hot in the gym and they were renovating the central air, so the floor was slick with sweat. You know how Y/N is, she didn’t bother looking and slipped. Broke her collarbone and was yelling at us about it for a month,” Suguru said. He grinned at the memory. Though there’d been some worrying and tears when it initially happened, the scowl that Y/N wore for weeks after the accident had been an endless source of amusement for everyone on the team.

          “Open or closed fracture?” said Kiyoomi sharply. Suguru raised a brow, finger tracing the rim of his bottle.

          “Don’t remember to be honest. Just ask her later.”

          “What are you doing?” asked Y/N. Her feet were propped on the couch, hands steadily applying a thin layer of pink nail polish to her toes. Kiyoomi’s fingers hooked around the collar of her shirt, pulling it down slightly so he could see the sharp edge of her collar bones. Y/N inched backwards, looking at him with wide eyes.

          “Ummm, can you wait until after I finish my nails?”

          “I never noticed this scar,” he murmured, eyes glued to the silvery line that cut across the bone. Her brows drew together, teeth scraping her lip, as she considered her answer. Kiyoomi fixated on things at random times, like different players or an illness he’d heard about on the news. Unlike his cleaning habit---something she was endlessly thankful for after years of being told she’d make a bad housewife---his pessimism was endlessly amusing to her. In college, she’d often lied awake by his side as he hunted down videos of opposing teams and found out everything he could about their players.

          “It’s almost gone, I’d be surprised if you did,” said Y/N, at last. Kiyoomi leaned back, towering over her with a scowl on his face. His brow wrinkled and she fought the urge to smooth it out.

          “How often did you get injured before we met? Were you a clumsy child?”

          “Not particularly, but I had trouble sitting still.”

          “I thought so,” muttered Kiyoomi. He turned sharply, disappearing down the hall. Y/N watched his back in bewilderment, before turning back to her nails. Whatever it was, he’d tell her later.

          She put up with it for three days. Three days of Kiyoomi spotlessly cleaning and drying the floors whenever he was home. Of him ensuring that her shoes are double knotted and tight enough to suffocate her feet whenever she left the house. Of him hovering over her whenever she gets up in the apartment. Once, he’d explicitly told her not to move from the bed when she wanted water and had rushed to kitchen to get it for her. Half of her wanted to laugh, the other half was ready to kill him.

          “What happened and why am I being baby-proofed?” asked Y/N, folding her arms over her chest.

          “Nothing,” mumbled Kiyoomi. His lips pursed, forming a pout as Y/N leaned over the table and took his hand into hers.

          “I’m not stupid, Yoomi. Something’s wrong. What did Suguru tell you?”

          “You broke your collarbone,” he said. Y/N fell back into her seat in surprise, before she started to laugh loudly. Kiyoomi’s lips twitched reluctantly, the sound fanning the embers of affection that thrummed through his body.

          “You didn’t even know who I was back then and even if we did, you went to a different school?” Y/N said.  

          “All the more reason, we should be cautious now and prevent any injuries.”

          “I don’t play sports. An injury isn’t going to end my career,” said Y/N.

          “That shouldn’t prevent you from taking proper care of your health.”

          “When have I ever been sick?” she asked in exasperation, “Only once in the five years we’ve known each other. If I get injured, I’ll get better. Worry about me dying when we’re old, okay?”

          He nodded and turned the conversation toward Hinata’s latest attempt to push his debut up. Y/N let him, but her mind lingered on his concerns. Kiyoomi might not have been the most affection person in the world, but he cared far more than people realized. He did everything with care as if it would break in his hands if he handled it too roughly.

          Later that night, they’re resting in bed. Kiyoomi was warm and bright beside her, lips tracing the scar at her collarbone. Teeth nipping at the skin.

“I hope I die before you,” he whispered.

“Don’t say stuff like that,” Y/N said sharply.

“Hmm,” he rose up on his elbow, and rested his head in the palm of his hands. His fingers traced an invisible pattern on her ribcage. “It’s true. It’d be easier not to worry, if I’m dead.”

“You’re so annoying. If you’re lucky, I’ll kill you in your sleep,” she promised

“Wait a couple years, will you? I’d like to make it to the Olympics first.”

Y/N let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head at his absurdity. She wondered briefly what he’s be like if they decided to have children. Overprotective to a fault, but unfailingly awkward when it came to voicing his affection. Blunt as baseball bat when it came to pointing out someone’s mistakes. She rested her hand over his squeezing all her fondness of him into the touch.

[birdiefw]

TONY STARK | HOME

Summary: Losing your husband was the worst thing that had ever happened to you, but you weren’t about to let him go without trying to get him back.

Warnings: Mentions of depression, implied Stucky (though, you don’t have to see it as that), fluff, Endgame changes.

Word Count: 1,751

A/N: I wrote this a long time ago to try and cope with what happened in Endgame because it literally broke me + there were many things I didn’t like about it. And in this imagine, the compound didn’t get destroyed nor was Morgan born as it works best that way for this imagine.

Sadness.

That was all you felt.

It was like all of the air had been sucked straight out of your lungs while you watched your husband take his last breaths after sacrificing himself for the sake of the universe.

You didn’t know if it was real at first, but when he failed to move despite your loud pleas and sobs that wrecked through your body, your heart tore into millions of pieces and fell into the deepest pit of your stomach where you could no longer feel a single thing. It took everything in your body to not completely crumble right then and there, but with strong arms pulling you up to your feet and into their tight embrace, you crumbled, letting out every emotion you felt through your flow of tears.

Tears of anger, grief, sadness, and every other emotion you felt tumbled down your face and soaked into the fabric of Steve Rogers suit as he held you tightly. You could hear his own sniffles, saddened with the loss of Tony, as was everyone else.

The world would never be the same without Tony Stark—everyone knew that—but none of them would feel the pain of it as much as you.

No matter what anyone said or tried in an attempt to comfort you over the loss of your husband, it meant nothing.

Tony’s funeral had felt like a complete blur for you, dozens of faces mixing together and words never really registering in your mind even if you nodded along or mumbled out a short response. You know you heard them, but your mind was completely blank as was your heart without your husband by your side, whispering in your ear that everything would be alright.

Everyone walked on eggshells around you, not wanting to make you even more sad or be at the wrath of your anger.

You felt terrible for not talking to anyone, but each time you tried, memories of Tony trying to speak his final words to you popped up into your mind and made tears brew in your eyes. You didn’t know what was to come next for you, but alone at the compound where you were meant to be picking up some things, you found yourself aimlessly wandering around the enormous building.

It was something that you and Tony would do in your spare time and when no one else was around, sometimes using that to your advantage to have some fun in the many open spaces with the full risk of being seen or caught. However, you found yourself standing in Scott’s guest room, eyes suddenly locked on some Pym Particles that were placed on his messy dresser.

You hadn’t spoken to Scott much, but he did offer you his condolences and said if you ever needed anything to let him know. The same had been said by the Pym family, having caught you off guard with the known fact Hank Pym had never been the biggest fan of any Stark, but you smiled as a thank you nonetheless. You didn’t even mean to go in Scott’s room—you thought it was Bruce’s—but a small spark inside told you it was meant to be.

Thankfully, the time machine was still around and perfectly intact, Bruce having wanted to keep it to study it for a while. No one besides him paid much attention to it anymore, everyone else having begun to move on with their lives and try to live the life Tony would’ve wanted them to. You, on the other hand, got an idea and found yourself standing in front of the time machine, two vials of Pym particles held in each of your hands, lips tight pursed together and an idea swirling around in your mind.

After Steve returned the stones and came back to live his life with Bucky after he passed the mantle of Captain America to none other than Sam Wilson, they’d all left the time machine alone. Bruce was taking some time to research the particles and how it reacted with the machine, which made you believe that’s why Scott had more of it.

You knew you shouldn’t, but every fiber in your body ached to be with Tony, to see his warm smile, to hear his intoxicating laugh, to feel his gentle touch run along your skin and make your heart flutter. His smile was your favorite thing in the world, and you craved to see it again.

Standing in front of the daunting machine, you sucked in a breath and swiftly turned it on.

You were there when they all went off the first time, taking the infinity stones from the past and returning with them a minute later. You’d watched every move Bruce made, taking note of what he pressed and turned, happy that you’d paid so much attention to it at the time.

You softly smiled to yourself, glancing to the suits that were thrown off to the side; no one planned on using them anytime soon. You quickly snatched two up and rushed up the platform, feeling the suit begin to form over Tony’s AC/DC shirt you were and jeans after you pressed the button, a quiet gasp leaving your lips when it was finished and you had the other stuffed in a case that was clutched in your hand.

You sucked in a sharp breath, glancing down to the particles; you had four with you. One to go, and one to come back. The other two were in case you actually managed to convince Tony to come back with you, but you knew there was a chance he wouldn’t believe you, but still, you wanted them.

You shook out your arms and legs, mentally preparing yourself for what you were about to attempt. There were many things that could’ve gone wrong, but the hope of seeing Tony again was enough to push you to do it.

“Y/N? You in here?” A voice called out. Your eyes widened and your head snapped to the side, shock appearing on your features when you saw Tony entering the room. The helmet of your suit slid down, revealing your face to him as he walked closer. He instantly froze, your eyes flicking behind when you saw Bruce Banner following Tony.

Bruce offered you a sheepish smile. “Hey, uh, yeah, I guess I kind of beat you to it.”

Your lips parted, looking back to Tony in utter shock.

He looked so much different, but still the same somehow. He was a little younger, wearing the same shirt you had on, but yours was more worn and faded.

Tears brewed in your eyes and you shakily stepped down from the platform, hand covering your mouth as Tony and Bruce approached you.

Your gaze shifted back to Bruce, slightly lowering your hand and brows furrowed. “But. .how? Why—?”

“I missed him, too,” Bruce admitted. “Besides, our world still needs him, but not as much as you. I’ll give you guys a few minutes.”

Your eyes softened and you sniffled, taking a small step towards Tony. You two had been together ever since he defeated Ivan Vanko and Justin Hammer, having gotten married a little after Peter Parker had managed to web himself into your lives. You’d yet to have any children of your own, always saying you would when the time was right, but things always got in the way of that.

“Oh my god,” you murmured in disbelief.

“Well, it is me. Many people feel that way when meeting me,” he said, causing you to let out a genuine chuckle at his cockiness. Tony sighed, taking your hand in his and linking your fingers together without hesitation. “I’m still not entirely sure what happened. Jolly Green Giant over there wouldn’t give me all the details, but it took some time and he told me a few things that only I would know, and while I did have my doubts, I thought it would be nice to see the future, and of course, you.”

You let out a little laugh, playfully rolling your eyes. “Seriously? That’s why you came here?”

Tony grinned. “Maybe, maybe not. I didn’t really peg you to be one to ruin the past all for—”

Your face slightly faltered when his voice abruptly stopped, concern washing over your features. You opened your mouth to speak, but your eyes followed his gaze, noticing he was staring at your wedding ring that shined on your wedding finger. He slowly looked up to meet your gaze, a small smile working its way onto his lips. “You always did have the best taste,” you softly told him.

Tony beamed, his grin widening. “Yes, I did. But. . .what do you say we get married? I know we already were, but technically that wasn’t—”

“Tony, are you trying to propose to me with the ring your future self already bought?”

“Uh, maybe?”

“You’re such an idiot,” you giggled, pulling into you to give him a hug. You were still sniffling some, but joy was overtaking you.

“But I’m your idiot, right?”

“Of course. Forever and always.” You pulled away, a content sigh leaving your lips. You still couldn’t believe he was standing right in front of you. You allowed your eyes to take in every feature of him, your smile never once faltering. You finally had him back, and he had you. “And, you know, we never actually got to have those kids we wanted. . .”

“Say no more—”

A throat suddenly cleared behind you, your eyes tripling in size at the sight of the woman. “I’m sorry, did I step on your moment?”

Your eyes instantly darted over to Bruce who was off to the side of you and Tony, fiddling with part of the machine. He innocently shrugged his shoulders, timidly grinning as Natasha Romanoff made her way into the room. “Did I forget to mention we brought Nat back, too?”

You laughed, shaking your head.

You finally had your family back.

Tony squeezed your hand, recapturing your attention. “About that family—”

You playfully rolled your eyes and moved forward without a second thought, connecting your lips in a passionate kiss. You hands pressed the sides of his face, one of his arms shaking around your waist while the other firmly pressed against your back, pushing your chests’ together. You tightly held him onto him, promising to never let go of him and basking in the joy that Tony Stark, and Natasha Romanoff, were both home.

———

[gotmeringinghellsbells]

Nervous Confessions

Fandom: Pokemon

Characters: Piers/Raihan

A/N: Probably a little ooc, but I’m out of practice for writing and want to pick it up again. A potential start to my au for these boys but yeah. Enjoy!

Summary: Raihan has a confession to tell Piers that could threaten their relationship.

Warning(?): Talk of sexuality and romance terribly explained by yours truly because..... emotions? Yeah um.... hi I’m a single, ace being. If curious about some of the mentioned sexualities and romantic identifications please look up meanings for yourself. 

_____

With summer approaching, a new season was about to beginning. Spirits were high, children from across Galar already selected and fitted for their official uniforms. Stakes were high and excitement was booming. The energy within Motostoke stadium was almost intoxicating, dizzying a familiar goth as he stood in one of the many entry ways down to the bleachers. 

Piers held the door frame to steady himself as he gazed upon the crowd. It was amazing what could change in four years. Leon stood proudly, presenting the Galar league to the children participating and the audience; despite the whole region knowing their names. 

Milo, Nessa, Kabu, Allister, Bea, Bede, Melony, Gordie, his own sister; he paused when he caught sight of Marnie. She looked so happy, smiling ear to ear as she held Morpeko in her arms. The two of them were waving to the roaring crowd, only to be pulled into another gym leader. Piers rolled his eyes as Raihan snagged her for a quick selfie with all the trainers in the background. 

There were just some things time didn’t change.

Standing to the side of the stadium, Piers let out a smokey sigh as he exhaled from his previously inhaled drag. His cigarette glowed brightly before he gave it a flick, sending the newly born phoenix to an ashy grave by his feet for the wind to blow away. “There you are,” a familiar voice boomed. Icy, blue eyes glanced up from their daze as tacky shoes appeared before him. “‘Bout time,” Peris sighed softly as he clipped the burning stick of paper and tobacco. Raihan made a face at the smell but approached the other none-the-less. “Ah, sorry to keep you waiting, love. Wanted to see how Leon was doing and take a quick selfie with Sword. She’s getting so big,” he stated like an aging parent. 

“Marnie too,” Piers hummed as he stood up and tried to crack his neck a bit. Raihan laughed a bit. “How long ‘til she’s your height now?” Piers paused after a soft crack was heard before shooting him a glare. “Ah, I’m just Joshin’ ya.” The taller finally latched his arms around the smaller and nuzzled into the messily bunned hair. “How was work,” Raihan asked as he continued to hold his partner of three years. “Took the day off to catch up with all the excitement,” Piers hummed as he nuzzled into the other’s scent. 

A bit musty from sweat that had cooled over the course of the day mixed with some of his favorite smelling cologne. It was soothing, comforting. “Ah, really? I’ve been trying to get you to break for months now but this is what gets your head outta that song book?” Peris shot him a glare from his chest; which from Raihan’s perspective just looked like a puppy pout. Before either the gym leader or musician could say anything, there was a low grumble heard from between the two. Raihan blushed a bit as Piers’ glare broke into a small smile. “Dinner,” Piers asked. 

“Walk and dine,” Raihan added to the offer. “It’s a gorgeous night.” Piers hummed. “Yeah, but the palace will probably be crawling with eager trainers.” Raihan hummed. “Alright, how about over by Hammerlocke, yeah? Kids can’t get in without all three gym badges and right now, the pokemon over there are probably too intense, right?” Piers gave a small nod after a moment of thought. “Well, let’s go then,” he said softly, attempting to lead the other off; but to no avail. “Actually, I was thinking we call a cab and enjoy the night sky from above before hitting it from below?” Piers gave a small nod of agreement as a small breeze caused him to move a bit closer as Raihan tinkered away with his phone to alert a flying taxi of their location for a pick up. 

The taller man merely pulled his lover in a bit closer before submitting the request and quickly striking a pose for a date-night selfie. It irked Piers, but he just hid his face in the other. His face was all over Raihan’s Pokegram, so what if he ducked away this time? Raihan clearly didn’t care. He never forced Piers to smile or pose anymore, just would take a bunch of pictures and post the most flattering of the two of them. 

“Date night with a babe,” Raihan said softly as he typed. “Don’t you dare,” Piers protested, only to squeak from a small squeeze to his side. Turning to look at the offending touch’s origin, Raihan’s hand merely rested against his side once more. He turned with a pout towards the other before gently, but firmly jabbing him in the ribs. Raihan jolted slightly before smirking. “Is that a challenge?” Oh hell no. “Not in public,” Piers hissed as he put his hands up as Raihan moved to pounce for the kill. The panic was soon killed as wind came crashing down on the two of them, a cab landing behind Piers. Looking up, the two were greeted with a friendly smile and wave. “Gym leader! Piers as well. Are you both looking for a ride,” the pleasant taxi driver asked. Piers blushed a bit and started to fiddle with his bangs, social anxiety getting to him. 

Raihan wrapped an arm around him with a thumbs up and a wink. “Yep! Taking the Mr. here on a nice date night. Any chance you could help with that?” Piers gently smacked at Raihan’s stomach. He was so open about everything! Raihan merely laughed as the cab driver hopped down to get the door. “Absolutely. It’s a beautiful night tonight. Where are you two looking to go?” “Eh, just over to Hammerlocke. But maybe, you could give a bit more of a scenic route?” Piers blushed a bit more, leaning more into the hold. “Why are you doing this,” he hissed out. “I said it was a special date night, right? Come on babe, you love looking at stars! “ He wasn’t wrong. 

With darkened cheeks and his head down, Piers headed for the cab. A hand was offered to help him up that he took hesitantly. “Thank you,” he uttered to the sweet older man who merely gave him a wink before seeing Raihan in. Shutting the door behind them, he looked back to the ordering customer. “Scenic route back to Hammerlocke, yeah? How about just a nice scenic route over Galar?” Raihan smiled. “Yeah, that would be awesome!” Piers merely leaned into his shoulder, moving his arm away from his side to get closer. “Alrighty then. You boys take it easy now. Corviknight and I’ll show you two the sites.” With that, he climbed back onto his pokemon leaving the couple be. 

As he departed, Raihan looked over the male snuggled into his side and merely held him closer with a smile. His stomach churned and heart tugged as his mind reminded him the point of all this. This was becoming a serious relationship. They were three years in to it, four years into a strong friendship. Both were built off of emotional trust and openness. He felt guilty hiding something like this from Piers but was scared of the outcome it would bring. “How was your day,” Piers asked sleepily as he took in the aforementioned soothing scent. “Ah, pretty dull. Not much going on besides the opening ceremony so I gave my pokemon a day to breathe.” “And your pupils?” Raihan nodded. “They had the option to train or rest today. I’ll check in with them tomorrow. It’s going to be crazy busy soon.” Piers nodded, remembering the chaos from his own gym leader days. 

“Wonder if any one will steal the crown from Sword,” he muttered. “Eh, we’ll see. Frankly, I’d like to take another crack at battling her.” Piers rolled his eyes. “Of course,” he muttered, snaking an arm around to gently hold Raihan. It was going to be quite a while before they got to do something like this again. Their only interactions would probably be rushed between making sure Marnie was taking care of herself and making sure this one was doing alright. “Hey, you don’t think I have a chance,” Raihan laughed. “No, you do. Just wish you’d ease up on your obsession with battle.” Raihan looked confused. “Huh?” Piers paused before sitting up some and shaking his head. “Ah… you just kind of go off about battling some times. Like when you tried to befriend me, all you did was keep dragging me into battles and complimenting me.” Raihan scoffed. “We hung out too!” “After said battles or because you wanted to battle me.” The taller pouted before rolling his eyes. “Fine, less battle talk and asking. Better?” Piers shook his head with a sigh. “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing,” Raihan moved closer to hold him again. 

“Just, you get a little to into battle sometimes and that’s all that seems to exist to you.” Piers gently rubbed Raihan’s cheek as the taller man nuzzled into him. “Trying to defeat Leon for ten years only to be bested by a ten-year-old really shatters a guy, ya know?” Piers paused. Oh. He hadn’t thought about it that way. “Sorry,” he said softly as he was pulled in closer. “Don’t be. I do get a bit carried away in battle, I’ll admit it. But it’s my life, you know? I’ve come so close to beating Leon so many times in mandatory battles and off hand ones, but with Sword…. Hah, she puts up a challenge.

“He’s training her into quite the champion. I’ll give him that.” Piers looked up a bit confused by the last part but didn’t question it too much. “He’s a good chairman. Glad he’s treating Sword like a real kid, not a star child.” Raihan looked at him a bit confused before laughing. “Yeah, because you and Sonia scared him shitless his first day.” What? “How did we scare him,” Piers asked sitting up some to readjust. “Huh? Don’t you remember storming up to him and telling him off?” Piers thought a moment. “I’ve told him off a few times.” “Ah, well, allow me to jog your memory,” he said rather dorkily. Story time. 

“Basically, you and Sonia jumped on him about not making the same mistakes Rose did. About letting Sword come home and be part of a functional family and remembering she’s a child….. Not a walking advertisement as you said.” Piers thought a moment before nodding. “Ah, right. Thought he’d just brush me off though. Wasn’t he seeing Sonia at the time? Thought that’s what drove the point home.” Raihan made a face. “Yeah, not yet. But no, you both scared him. They started seeing each other a few months after. They lasted maybe a year? Not sure. She’s been with Nessa ever since.” Piers blinked. Normally Raihan told him all of media and regional gossip. Had he tuned this part out?

Probably, Piers didn’t care much for gossip. “As long as she and Nessa are happy, all that matters there.” Raihan nodded. “You didn’t think it was odd I kept inviting him to hang out with us,” he then inquired. “Not really. Your said to be rare rivals and best friends, right? Or at least th4e closest he got to a friend under that whack job’s rein.” Raihan made a face before nodding. “Yeah, well, you know…. wanted him to be happy too.” This was weird. “Why are you randomly bringing this stuff up?” 

Raihan froze. Should he tell him now? Probably not a good time considering their trapped in a small cabin. Piers can’t just leave. That would be so uncool to do to him. “Hey you two, the clouds are opening up. Take a look at the sky.” Ah, the voice of his savior. Raihan let out a sigh of relief as Piers glanced out the window. Raihan leaned forward eagerly. “Sure is beautiful,” he commented. “You bet,” the kind man said back. Piers merely smiled at the sight. Raihan moved closer to the smaller as they gazed into the brightly lit sky together. 

“There’s something just so soothin’ about the stars.” Raihan nodded as he moved in to cuddle again. Piers didn’t resist. He leaned back into the affectionate touch. “Babe,” Raihan said softly. “Hm,” Piers responded. “Do you like Leon? I mean I should have asked after I brought him around year two but….. are you alright with him?” Piers made a face as he turned to look at the other. “What’s with the Leon talk? Something wrong?” Raihan quickly shook his head. “No, no. Nothing’s wrong just….. curious, you know? I know you had some mixed feelings about him as a brother to Hop and his ego and all that but after getting to know him?” Piers shrugged. “It’s not like we hang out without you. What you see, I see.” 

Raihan sighed. “But do you like what you see?” Weird wording. Piers made a face. “I… guess? He’s always pretty nice to me and the kids so yeah. He’s alright. Wish he’d stop taking the problems of the region as if they're his alone to deal with but that’s something for him to work on.” Raihan smiled a bit too wide. “What?” The tallr froze. Whoops. “Ah, nothing. Just happy to hear you do like him.” “I would have told you if I didn’t,” Piers retorted as he looked back out the window. He smiled as he looked down over Turrfeild. Milo herding the Wooloo to bed with the help of his brother and some of his pupils. 

“Probably gonna stop by Milo’s tomorrow,” Piers commented off handedly. “Yeah,” Raihan asked, dying to just rip the bandage off right now. “Yeah. Might bring him dinner. He’s the first gym leader after all. Curry should be enough for him and his pupils right?” Piers turned, seriously asking Raihan his opinion. The other nodded. “Yeah but it’s supposed to be hot tomorrow. Maybe nothing too spicy?” Piers nodded. “Thanks,” he said softly. “Yeah.”

The rest of the ride was pretty quiet, just two dorky lovers staring in pleasant silence at the sky; cuddled into each other. It had been about an hour before they finally landed, Piers nearly being asleep. Raihan smiled before draping his hoodie over the smaller’s shoulders as the door opened to the cab. Piers once more took the kind, older man’s hand as he stepped down, thanking him once more. Raihan thanked him, taking a selfie with the three to compose for the night’s date. Piers felt it was over stepping but the pilot assured them it was fine. 

Finally stopping somewhere to get dinner, Raihan spotted a familiar figure. His window of time was coming closer to an end. Leon smiled, waving to the two of them before Sword dragged him off for their hotel to share the food with their pokemon. “He’s really her big brother now,” Piers commented as they stood in the pick up line. “Huh,” Raihan asked in panic before registering the words. “Oh. Yeah,” he laughed. Piers made a face. “Your doing it again,” he grumbled. “Doing what?” “Acting weird. Can you just tell me what’s going on already?” Raihan made a face before humming. “Maybe we could head back to my place rather than take that walk?” Piers nodded, just wanting the other to be honest with him already. 

The walk back was quiet, apart from Piers thanking Raihan for his meal. Entering the familiar home, Piers set his food on the counter before moving back to the door to hang the hoodie and his coat along with removing his shoes. He was dressed in a loose, thin, simple black stank sop and loose, dark shorts to match. He crashed on Raihan’s couch, taking his food with him as the other went to check on his beloved pokemon. His own were home, enjoying their day off. He made sure to feed them before he left. 

“You can turn on the television,” Raihan said, reaching for the clicker. “I want to talk first,” Piers stated, looking at him like an upset parent. Raihan retracted his hand before sighing. “Right, right.” “What’s been bothering you all night. Did you have a fight with Leon?” Raihan shook his head. How to say this without killing their relationship. “Um…. I’ve discovered somethings about myself over the last few years.” ‘Good start’, he thought, ‘weak delivery’. “You know, as we people do. We evolve and change with time.” Piers quirked a brow. “Why are you nervously stalling?” Raihan froze before feeling his eyes start to water. “Look, just give me a tick would ya? This is scary.” Piers sat up, placing his food down to face the other. 

Not once had the idea of them breaking up crossed his mind so far, just fear of the other’s well being. They had a relationship built on emotion and openness, so if Raihan couldn’t be truthful and open with him…. he felt maybe he, himself had done something to hurt Raihan. “Is…. this about my battle comment? I’m sorry Rai, I didn’t mean it like that,” Piers started to apologize. Raihan laughed, tearing up more. “No, no. Just, give me a minute. I can do this.” Piers nodded but offered a hand to hold nonetheless. The other shyly took it, rubbing his thumb across Piers’ boney knuckles soothingly. 

“So, I know you don’t look into, like…. sexuality and romantic terms but…. there is more than like gay, pan, bi, ace and straight. Like you are romantically gay but sexually ace.” Piers gave a weird look. “Basically you are romantically, or emotionally interested in a significant other but…. you aren’t looking to have intercourse with them. Like we’ve only really done fluffy, soft stuff for the last three years and it’s been great.” Piers narrowed his eyes. “So…. is there a problem with that or?” Raihan held his hand lovingly and shook his head. “No, no, no! Just…. Okay Raihan,” he sighed to himself. “Your being super uncool. Just rip the bandage off.” Piers cocked his head before seeing more tears form.

Damn it. 

He moved closer and just held the taller. “Whatever it is, it’s nothing we can't handle. Please, just calm down.” Raihan froze. The smaller held him firmly, hovering over his lap as he nuzzled closer into his scent. “I love you no matter what you identify as, if that's the issue. Just relax. You act like you haven’t told me about more personal things like bathroom problems.” Way to kill the moment. Raihan snorted, tears coming down his face. Piers frowned before reaching up to gently wipe the away before gently kissing each eyelid. 

Darker arms wrapped around his petite torso. Piers was trapped, Raihan’s face buried into his clothed torso. “Arceus, I don’t deserve you,” he whimpered. This caught Piers off guard. He gently started toying with Raihan's dreadlocks, humming and shushing soothingly as the other cried into him. Gently, he reached his free hand from Raihan’s shoulder and moved his hand down to the of the uniform he wore. Pulling it up, he watched as the shaking skin grew slightly bumpy from the new air hitting it. He played with the dark locks of hair for a little longer before moving the hand to hold up the shirt back and gently tracing his nails up and down the taller’s back. 

Raihan jumped slightly before nuzzling into Piers more, sniffles subsiding slightly. ‘This is super uncool of you Raihan! You act like you’ve never dated before! Man up, stop crying like a Sobble and just tell him!’ He shivered from the touch before mewling slightly. ‘But what if he leaves me? What if he takes this wrong?’ “Shhhh,” Piers uttered soothingly as he dragged his nails gently up and down the spine once more. “Just relax,” he cooed. ‘Well, I’ll just have to explain it so that Piers can understand!’ Raihan’s brain was racing back and forth as his stomach churned slightly with fear. 

As the sniffles stopped and Raihan lay motionless against him, Piers sighed. He moved to lower himself down to be level with the other for a proper hug. “Rai, relax,” Piers cooed again as he nuzzled into his neck. His nails gently traced up the back for the end, kissing the skin softly. Raihan was pulled out of his thoughts as his nerves reacted to the touch. His head popped out, letting out a sequel. Piers froze in alert before looking up at the other. He then smirked before filed nails started tickling his lower sides. Raihan screamed out before shaking his head squirming helplessly. 

“Ah, P-Piers sthahahaop it!” Piers smiled moving closer to his ear, easing the touch to hold him still for just a moment. “No more tears, yeah,” he asked softly, fingers moving slowly under his shirt, walking up his sides slowly to his ribs. Raihan squeaked, nodding as his face shifted to one of a smile with excitement. His stomach churns turned slowly to butterflies as his face heated up. “B-Babe,” he giggled. “Hm,” Piers hummed softly with a small smile. “Ah, ah wait. Hey,” Raihan giggled as his hands gently moved up to hold Piers around his waist. “Okay, okay,” he whimpered before bursting into soft, broken streams of giggles. “Nhahaope,” Riahan giggled out as he collapsed into Piers’ shoulder, just giggling his head off as Piers started scratching at his lower ribs. Piers just rolled his eyes, giggling softly himself. 

“Dork,” Piers commented lovingly as he started to slowly move his nails up each rib’s bump. Raihan jumped and jolted with squeaks and yelps off and on, just holding him. “You want me to stop,” Piers asked as Raihan seemed much calmer now. “A-Ah….. Not yet,” Raihan giggled out. “Yeah? Alright. Piers stopped for a moment before sitting on the far side of the couch and patting his lap. Raihan felt his face heat up more before he slowly, sheepishly moved to place his feet on the other’s lap. Piers looked a bit surprised. “You sure?” Raihan awkwardly nodded. “Okay.” He left the socks on, gently dragging his nails up and down his soles of each foot, watching as Raihan struggled not to rip his feet back. 

He held a pillow tightly to his chest, shaking his head frantically as he dug his heels into Peris’ thighs. “Shahahit,” Raihan squealed. The smaller winced slightly before sighing. “You alright,” he asked as the harsh pressure was starting to hurt. “Y-Yeheheheah! Ah, P-Piers,” Raihan squealed as the smaller grabbed the balls of his feet and started to scratch up and down a little harsher. The free foot quickly moved off of him to kick at the air as Raihan shrieked, jerking around in his seat. “Pheheheirs! Pheheheheirs! Ok-Okay! Whahahahit! Eeek!” The other stopped quickly, smiling softly. 

“Alright?” Raihan nodded, taking his foot back, laughing slightly still as he moved away from the other. “Thanks,” Raihan muttered softly as he curled up, slightly embarrassed. Peris smiled, moving to poke at his side. “Oh? Who said I was done?” Raihan’s blue eyes widened before he curled into the arm of his couch more. “Wait? What?!” He was giggling nervously as Piers smirked at hims playfully. “You heard me.” Oh shit. No, no, no! 

Raihan squealed before he jumped up. “Okay, I’m ready to talk,” he squealed out. Oh, right. Piers sighed as he stood down, giving a nod of truce before patting the cushion next to him. Raihan nervously took a seat, still holding his cousin before leaning into the other. Piers cleared the other’s face from tears before kissing his cheek softly. “What’s going on?” The other frowned before feeling his stomach churn again and eyes start to water a bit once more. 

“So, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about,” he started again. “Okay,” Piers said calmly. “Do you know what like polygamy or polyamorous means?” Piers thought for a moment before slowly shaking his head. “I don’t think so? Why, what is it?” Okay, big reveal. Don’t be dumb, don’t be dumb! “I…. so I’m pansexual and romantic right? Well I’m also polyamorous.” Piers blinked. “What’s pan mean again,” he asked quietly. Raihan laughed. “Basically gender means nothing. I have no preference of genders, if I like you, I like you. Or that’s at least how I explain it.” Piers gave a nod. 

“So… polyamorous?” Raihan sighed. “I am capable of loving more than one person romantically at a time.” He watched as the life drained from Piers’ face. Quickly moving into damage control, he put his hands up. “Let me explain, let me explain! It’s not like that. I still love you! Hold on, hold on.” Piers gave him a look as if to say “get to the point”. “So there are relationships that exist that are composed of more than two people. Like a legit love circle type deal. I just… okay I don’t know how to explain this. One moment.” Piers crossed his arms and quirked a brow. “Are you…. leaving me or?” Raihan shook his head. 

“Look, I…. I don’t know how to explain this properly, so…. Hear me out,” he asked softly. Piers gave him a nod. “I’ve had a crush on Leon for…. a while.” Oh? Oh. Piers hummed, leaning forward. “So…. you wanted him to join our relationship which is why you’ve been bringing him around since him and Sonia split?” Yes and no. “I mean that wasn’t the idea but…. I can see why you’d think that but…. Yeah.” Piers sighed. “So you're asking to open the relationship or add to it?” “Add,” Raihan said, gripping the pillow tighter. He was so nervous. Piers made a face before sighing. “I don’t feel that way about Leon, and I doubt he feels that way about me but…. if you want, I don’t mind going on a date or two to just see how it goes.” Raihan gave a silent nod as he sheepishly looked over at the other. 

“Are you sure,” he asked Piers. “If your uncomfortable with this, I won’t pursue it.” Piers shrugged. “You’ve dragged him around with us often enough, it’s not much different.” He wasn’t upset, but was just trying to picture if he could develop feelings for the purple haired man. “Are you upset?” Piers shook his head. “Thinking,” Piers stated, reaching for his food off the coffee table again. “Now eat your food, it’s getting cold,” he muttered with a mouthful of food. Raihan smiled softly before receiving the clicker and moving to allow the other into his side. Piers moved close, snuggling into him as they turned on a cheesy movie to make fun of.

[happytsukki]

boyfriend material

k. bokuto

in which you inquire bokuto to act as your fake boyfriend for a weekend, but you’re the one acting like you don’t have real feelings for him.

a/n: so you’re telling me i have to accept the fact that bokuto isn’t real?? real heartbreak 😔 anyway i love the fake dating trope hehe i hope u enjoy!! idk how i feel about the end ummm

“be my boyfriend, taro.”

“woah woah woah, slow down y/n. technically you haven’t even confessed to me yet,” stuttered bokuto, his eyes darting around the nearly empty library just to avoid your gaze. heat rose to his cheeks and the tip of his ears, showcasing a pink hue that he was embarrassed to let you see.

sure, your friends loved to giggle about how good you and bokuto looked together or how you two were basically soulmates because you shared the same music taste and movie favorites. and you two would shyly refuse, believing that you were simply friends. right?

but nothing would’ve prepared bokuto to hear something so bold come out of your mouth. wasn’t he supposed to be the bold one? but why was he suddenly the one being flustered and feeling knots grow in his stomach?

you shook your head profusely. “shut up taro. not like that, what i mean is that my parents think i have a boyfriend to bring home this break—which obviously i do not.” you placed your hands together and pouted, “so please be my fake boyfriend.”

the boy scratched the back of his head in confusion. “wait, why exactly do your parents think you, of all people, have a boyfriend? and besides, why can’t you just say you don’t?” questioned bokuto.

he was right. you were never really adept at dating, and who knows why your parents fell for your silly lie but you knew one thing for sure: if you didn’t go to the family reunion with a boyfriend, you would be disowned by your entire family.

“well it started with a small lie— for a good reason of course! see, we have a family reunion around this time, but my snotty cousin loves to show off every year and i was fed up.” you huffed and rolled your eyes just at the thought of her, “so i told my parents that my boyfriend and i had a date planned for that day so i couldn’t go, but no. they refused to let me miss it and insisted on introducing him. now i have to see my annoying cousin again and bring my nonexistent boyfriend.” you sighed heavily and threw your arms up in frustration.

“okay. i’ll do it. but first, you have to tell me why you picked me.” he crossed his arms and stuck his nose up, waiting for your response. ah, it was bokuto’s daily need for validation that you were expecting.

“you’re obviously the best candidate to not only make my parents proud of me but also to rub it in my cousin’s face. i mean who else can i bring that was one of the top 5 aces in the nation, now part of the msby black jackals and just as scrumptiously fine and hot as y–“ bokuto’s eyes widened at your last statement and his hand quickly went to cover your mouth. you almost doubled over in laughter, shy bokuto was a rare sight so this was quite enjoyable to watch.

he laughed nervously, “woaaah, okay i get it now. thank you y/n....or should i say girlfriend.” winked bokuto. though it came off as a joke he could feel his heart race so fast that he felt like he was high on cloud nine, a feeling foreign till now.

desperately seeking a breath of fresh air from the situation, bokuto scrambled to gather his books and bid a short farewell but not before giving you an awkward pat on the head and a high-five. yes, a high five.

“bye y/n!” smiled bokuto, dashing out of the library like it was a 100 meter race.

but bokuto failed to realize that his exuberant heart seemed to beat in rhythm with someone else’s, yours.

your two years of friendship seemed to suffice for a decent cover story, or so you thought. but once you stepped foot onto the front lawn of your home, the growing tighteness in your chest would say otherwise.

maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

your mind was spiraling out of control causing you to be paralyzed with a million thoughts on your mind.

“earth to y/n— are you okay?” asked bokuto. he waved his hand in front of your face, snapping you out of your frozen state.

“i-i think i’m stupid for thinking i could pull of this crazy plan. maybe you should just go home kou,” you admited. your eyes wouldn’t dare look into his eyes, instead redirecting your attention on the hem of your sweater.

bokuto wasn’t a quitter and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let you go into there alone. he grabbed your hand and gave it a small squeeze, his other hand raising your chin up.

“i’m not letting you admit defeat, y/n. besides, i’m wearing the perfect sweater.” beamed bokuto.

“sweater?” you puzzled. “check it out, it’s made out of boyfriend material.” he joked, earning a simple smile out of you and washing away your doubts.

you couldn’t help but marvel at the look of pure determination on his face. you’ve seen it plenty of times, mostly during tough volleyball games. the way you could look into his eyes and see a fire set ablaze made you feel strong and fearless. bokuto just had that effect on people. without a second thought, one hand interwined with bokuto’s, you pushed open the door.

unfortunately, your rush of adrenaline was cut short by the disgusting sight of your cousin, chiyo. her eyes immediately landed on you but soon shifted over to the mysterious attractive man to your left.

chiyo was vile, cruel, judgemental, rude, bossy, selfish and the list goes on. since you were children, she made it her life goal to be better than you in everything. you were usually able to tolerate her childish attempts to make you feel inferior but ever since she got an internship with alexander wang while you were still stuck in college, she just couldn’t stop tearing apart your life.

“oh my, look who it is. hello y/n, is this your friend?” questioned chiyo, her eyes running bokuto up and down like tiger finding her next prey.

oblivious to her true intentions, he offered her his usual friendly smile. you rolled your eyes, anger stirring deep within you.

you wrap your arms around bokuto’s waist and lovingly rest your head onto his chest.

still in his embrace, you turn your head to face chiyo again “no, this is my boyfriend bokuto. but i don’t think i see your boyfriend, is he around?” you retorted. chiyo gasped in response, and after failing to find a snarky rebuttal she stomped away in annoyance.

while cheers of victory rang through your head, you peered up at bokuto. “did you see that taro? we really showed her” you laughed.

but bokuto didn’t laugh. he nodded trying to keep his calm but inside he was screaming hysterically. he felt like absolute jelly in your touch, wondering why he wanted to play this role forever.

“come on, you should meet my little cousins!” you say as you drag him to the backyard.

needless to say, the kids absolutely adored him.

“hey hey hey!” boomed bokuto, his voice resonating through the yard and catching the attention of the horde of children.

your five year old cousin yuta gaped at his towering height “woahhh mister— you’re a giant!” another boy began climbing his body, tugging at his white-grey streaked hair, causing bokuto to yelp in pain.

it was a sight that made your heart swell with happiness. the way bokuto sat on the grass, surrounded by children ooo-ing and ah-ing at his stories while he showcased a huge grin made you appreciate the little things. and of course you just had to snapping a quick picture of bokuto before he could even notice. after the initial excitement died down, he returned to your side with the same grin painted on his face.

“excuse me, y/n-chan. is that your husband?” a tiny voice whispered, tugging at the hem of your cyan-colored sweater. the girl, small and doe-eyed, pointed a shy finger towards the boy.

oh my god. you were mortified, completely frozen in your spot. you couldn’t believe she just said that, why would she say that? suddenly you hated children. but at that moment you just desperately wanted the earth to open up and swallow you whole.

before you could awkwardly announce that he was just your boyfriend, bokuto already had the situation under control. he placed one knee on the grass, now eye-level to the girl. with a hearty laugh he said “not yet...but would you like to be a flower girl at our wedding?” the girl’s eyes lit up with pure bliss, nodding her head aggressively to his suggestion.

for a split second, you thought bokuto deserved an oscar for his exceptional acting skills.

because at that moment, you were beginning to fall for him, wondering if one day you would be lucky enough to walk down the aisle to meet a teary-eyed bokuto at the altar.

“oh y/n i’m so happy you’re dating bokuto!!” your mother exclaimed, clapping her hands together at the dinner table.

you’ve been dreading dinner time the entire day, and of course your mother just had to prove your point exactly.

“y/n has always been gushing over him, i’m so glad she finally made a move— how did you two finally get together?” your mother questioned, placing her chopsticks down, leaning forward to give you her full attention. the rest of your family turned their heads towards you and eagerly waited for your response as they continued eating.

“oh, i-um” you stuttered. why didn’t you prepare more? you thought, mentally facepalming your poor decisions.

luckily, bokuto interrupted, “actually i confessed first, at my last game..” he offered you a small smile, and placed his hand over yours. it was a gesture that made you let go off the breath you were holding, it meant “i got this.”

“i thought she was perfect from the first time we met..”

you laughed. what a lie. the first time you met bokuto was far from elegant. you still remember it vividly, you standing on the sidelines chatting with kageyama when suddenly bokuto’s hard serve accidentally hits you in the back of the head. lets just say you weren’t exactly pleased to meet the perpetrator.

“and i thought she hated at first. we had mutual friends so we hung out more, and the more i got to spend time with her, the more i fell for her. i loved how she greeted me with a congratulatory hug after every match or how she would constantly sends me random songs that reminded her of me. i’m glad she’s mine..” professed bokuto.

he had the entire room swooning over every word, the story stringing together like it came straight out of your typical romantic movie.

oh how you wished bokuto wasn’t such a good actor. you wished he was the terrible fake boyfriend that all the kids loathed. you wished he was the terrible fake boyfriend that your mom didn’t look at with complete and utter adoration. you wished he was the terrible boyfriend that didn’t make your entire world stop on its axis with one look, one touch or one word.

falling in love with bokuto kotarou was easy; it’s admitting to yourself that it happened that was hard.

“mind if i join you?” asked bokuto.

after a long and tiring dinner, you decided to lay down outside, gazing at the blanket of stars that lit up the pitch black sky.

you longed for peace and quiet, away from your crazy family and your fake boyfriend. but you couldn’t escape from the feelings you harbored for bokuto.

“no.” you said, not daring to even glance at him. he laid down beside you, so close that his warmth radiated and his hand lightly grazed yours. silence filled the air, begging someone to say something, anything.

“thank you taro.” you whispered. “you’re suprisingly a good actor.”

“you ever heard of method acting?” he asked. you shake your head in confusion and he continues,”its when an actor completely embraces his role by developing sincere and genuine emotions..”

he sat up abruptly, diverting his gaze from the stars to your face, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. his fingers lace through yours, your hearts thumping joyfully in a familiar unison.

“what i mean is— acting isn’t hard when it’s real. none of my feelings were fake” expressed bokuto. “i don’t wanna be the fake boyfriend anymore.”

and for once, neither you or bokuto question your feelings, everything became so clear.

“because, frankly, i think our hands fit perfectly and i wouldn’t mind holding yours forever.”

[saiilorstars]

Cards on the Table (One-shot)

Fandom: Nancy Drew

Pairing: Ace x OFC

Summary: Ace has more than one enemy at the library but at least this enemy is more willing to help him and his friends solve a couple mysteries. The only issue he can't resolve is why he keeps coming back to the library when he doesn't have to. Agatha Rhodes isn't nice at all. Then again, she would say the same thing about him.

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother​​ @anotherunreadblog​​​ @maaaaarveeeeel​​​ @stareyedplanet​​ @perfectlystiles​​ 

[If you’d like to be part of this OC’s taglist, let me know!]

[Masterlist to other OCs]

Now that he looked back at it, the first time they met he could've been a little less competitive. If he had, maybe they wouldn't have started off on a bad note. Maybe his other enemy wouldn't have had such an easy time making an ally out of her.

But it was too late.

Agatha Rhodes was the bane of his existence.

Maybe she wasn't that bad but he sure as hell wasn't going to let her get away with her jabs. Ironically, that's what she said about him. Their communication wasn't the best.

At the very least, now that they were adults, they didn't have to see each other very often. She avoided the Claw and he avoided the library. Unspoken rules they set up and followed through.

Until homicide mysteries arose and Nancy Drew required assistance from both sides.

"Your arch enemy is the library's children's reader?" Nancy couldn't believe her ears when she heard the story.

With a straight face, Ace nodded. "Don't be fooled," he said as they both watched a brunette woman reading to a small group of children, "Underneath that smile, she's dangerous."

The only reason Nancy wouldn't snort on the spot was because of the reading session. They waited patiently for the session to end but even before it did, the brunette woman had already seen them. There was a glint in her eyes that didn't go unnoticed by Nancy. When she looked over at Ace, she found the same glint in his eyes too.

As soon as the reading session was done, they pulled the woman to the side to make their very much needed request.

"Well, well, well, so you need my help now?"

"I don't specifically need your help, Agatha," Ace corrected, "We need someone in general."

That didn't lessen her smirk. Agatha led them to the checking out desk and moved behind it to take a seat. "Well, you're here asking for help sooo...it sounds like you need little ole me." Her eyes flickered to Nancy beside him. "To be clear, the reason he doesn't like me is because I beat him at a competition a couple years back. I'm actually a very helpful person."

It took Nancy several seconds to realize that the odd noise she'd heard had been Ace snorting. She'd never heard him do that.

Agatha, however, deadpanned him for it. "You're annoying," she spat.

"And you're cocky," he returned within the second.

"And I still need help," Nancy awkwardly said as she rocked back and forth on her feet.

Agatha cleared her throat to reel herself back. "Sorry," she flashed Nancy an honest smile. "Whatever you need from me, I'm here to help."

"Thanks," Nancy said, briefly glancing at Ace to see if he was okay. He was engaging Agatha in a silent glare-off. Agatha could multi-task so she pulled up the security feed that they'd requested all while upholding her own glare for Ace.

"You're lucky we store all of our security footage for a year..." she remarked as she turned the computer around for them to see.

"Actually, my Mom implemented that policy on my suggestion," Ace was quick to remind, flashing her a small smug smile.

Agatha raised an eyebrow at him. "Does she know why?" She made a brief nod to Nancy.

Nancy, of course, didn't know but she suspected it was not for a glorious reason judging by Ace's face.

"First season of Serial really shook me..." He eventually confessed.

Agatha chuckled. "So Mama listened to her boy, of course."

Nancy pursed her lips together to prevent a laugh from getting out. Agatha spoke so smoothly with the right touch of sarcasm. She was like a George but more upbeat.

"Anyways, because of Ace's connections here, you guys can look through the footage on your own." Agatha pushed her long brown hair behind her shoulders and put on her best, sweet smile (for Nancy). "If you need anymore help, let me know."

"Thank you," Nancy said, feeling like Agatha was being honest.

Agatha's eyes flickered to Ace again, "And if you need anymore help..." Her sweet smile widened impossibly, "Don't."

"Yeah, don't worry," Ace called after her then soon heard Nancy snickering beside him. "It's not funny—she's not funny."

"This whole thing is funny," she corrected. "How did this happen again?"

Ace crossed his arms tightly. "It's complicated," he muttered. He would much rather focus on their homicide mystery than keep talking about Agatha.

~ 0 ~

The next time they crossed paths seemed just too close to their last encounter. Again, looking back at it, Ace supposed that he could've just gone the other way and that would be that. Agatha carried a big box in her arms, heavy by the sound of her grunts, and was struggling to reach the library's front doors. He could've gone the other way, the back door for all he cared, but then...it was also a priceless opportunity to mess with her a bit.

"Need some help there?" He asked after a book spilled from the box, landing with its spine up.

Agatha groaned. "Not from you."

"You'd let everything in that box drop rather than let me help you?"

"Noo, I'd rather let everything in this box drop just so you won't touch anything."

Alright, he may have set himself up for that answer but dammit it was a good answer that he would've used too if roles were reversed. "Agatha, let me take the box."

"How about you just disappear so this can get easier?"

"If you really think that'll help with the weight of the box, I will be deeply concerned with your intelligence."

Agatha shot him a wry smile. "Why Ace, I didn't know you could ever be concerned about me."

He rolled his eyes at her. "Alright, give me the box!"

"No!" In her attempt to turn away, a couple things actually fell from the box. She groaned. "Now look what you did!"

"Me? I wasn't the one holding the box." Ace shot her a smirk.

"I really hate you." Agatha shoved the box to his chest, ignoring his grunt from the sudden weight. "What the hell are you doing here anyways?" She picked up the two books and, if Ace was seeing correctly, a pack of playing cards.

"I'm here to see my mother, what else? You think I came for you?"

Agatha snorted. "If you had, I'd be crying because who would want to see you?" She dropped the books into the box and the deck of cards after a moment's hesitation.

"Now tell me what on Earth a library could gain from a deck of cards?" Ace had to ask. As annoying as Agatha was, he was well aware of her apt skills for organization when it came to the library.

"It accidentally fell in when I was putting things into the box," Agatha said.

"These are your things?" Ace sent the collection of books a disdainful look. "The poor souls of Horseshoe Bay don't know what they're about to check out." Agatha could've turned red if she didn't know the rile it would cause him. He looked up with a big, and proud, grin as he waited for Agatha to respond.

"I will never understand how the hell your amazingly kind mother could produce you." She turned away and headed for the doors. She pulled them open for Ace to walk on in.

"You have had that kind of talk, right?" He smirked at her again. Agatha could almost let the door shut on his face. "Hey, could I keep that deck of cards?" He suddenly asked her.

"What!?"

"The deck of cards. I like playing."

"What? No! I said they're not supposed to be in there!"

"I bet you don't even know how to use them."

"I do know how!"

"Then how about a game—winner gets the deck?"

Agatha took in a deep breath because she most certainly didn't want to yell in front of the library. "You know what?" She reached inside the box to pull out the deck of cards. She opened them up and went skimming through them until she pulled out one card. "You can have this one!"

Ace almost laughed at her, almost. Laughing would mean he enjoyed the conversation and this wasn't it. "Funny," he instead remarked. She would, of course, hold the ace card. She was smirking proudly of herself as she put the rest of the cards back into its box. "It's definitely the first time I've seen that joke. But if you know anything about playing cards, you'll know that the ace is one of the honor cards. One of the highest."

"And also one of the lowest," Agatha reminded him. "It can have a value of one which is what you are to me on a scale of 1 to 10."

"Ever so sweet, Agatha." Ace deposited the box back into Agatha's arms, swiping the card from her hand before it would fall. As a courtesy, he took the deck of cards as well and dumped it into the box. "I'll take it." He tucked the card into his back pocket and held the door for her.

"What? You said you wanted to help—"

"I'm only a one," he shrugged innocently.

Agatha glared at him. "I really hate you," she declared and walked into the library with her heavy box.

~ 0 ~

"Oh god, not again," Agatha mumbled under her breath when she caught sight of who walked into the library. Maybe if she pretended to be focused on her journal God would take pity on her and make her invisible.

That idea went out the window when a bright red ace card was slipped over her journal. She sighed internally and put her pen down. She looked up to see Ace smiling much too innocently. At least he wasn't alone which meant that whatever he wanted—or whatever the pair of them wanted—wouldn't involve a lot of talking.

"It's your favorite number one," he decided to start the conversation that way, thinking it would either irritate or at least be funny.

Agatha slid the card back to him. "Anything you touch, I don't want," she said with a polite smile. Her eyes flickered to Nancy beside him. "Hey Drew, what do you need today?"

"It'll be quick," Nancy said, about to add more when Agatha cut her off.

"Is that a promise?" Agatha sent a brief glare in Ace's direction. "Cos your friend's kind of annoying."

"I just...I need the computer," Nancy came out with it.

"For the security feed again?"

"Not exactly, we need to see who checked out a certain book that it's, um, of special interest."

"I can't tell you that information," Agatha shook her head.

"We know genius," Ace said, ignoring her second glare, "Which is why you should go take a walk or something..."

Agatha tilted her head at him, glares and sourness gone to be replaced by seriousness. "Listen, I know we share a tetchy type of relationship but you're really crossing a line here asking me to put my job on the line. I need this job."

For her honesty, Ace would pay her back with the same coin. "I get it but this is really serious. You won't get into trouble if anything happens. I don't mess with people's jobs."

Agatha glanced at Nancy. The ginger seemed anxious as she waited to hear whether or not Agatha would help them. "I don't know..."

"We'll be quick," Nancy said. "And like Ace said, you won't get in trouble for anything. It's really important."

"Really?"

"It is," Ace promised. "C'mon Atty, do us a solid."

It was hard not get incensed with that name. "I told you not to call me that!" Agatha hissed. "My name is Agatha and you know it."

"I just thought it'd be a step up from the old lady name," Ace shrugged. Beside him, Nancy was glaring at him. This was not the way to get Agatha on their side. He knew that but he just couldn't help himself.

"It's a family name you moron!"

"Hey!" Nancy decided to take her chances and cut into what would no doubt turn out to be a spectacular bickering. "Agatha, will you help me please?" Agatha commended her for being smart and saying 'help me'. "Ten minutes top is what I'll take."

"You're lucky I like you, Nancy," Agatha said with a sigh. "But only ten minutes, okay?"

"Done!"

Agatha moved around the desk after double checking that no one was looking. She was only a few steps away when Ace called her back. "What?" she hissed as she returned.

"Nothing, just forgot this." He made a gesture to her notebook still on the desk. "Thought you could doodle or something, whatever you do on the job." As soon as he started looking at the pages, she swiped the notebook into her arms, but it was too late. "What's beat reporting?" He made a face.

"None of your business!" Agatha snapped. "It's a college course that you're not enrolled in and thank God or else I'd go insane!" She turned around on her heels and hurried off.

"Why do you enjoy pissing her off so much?" Nancy asked as soon as it was just her and Ace. She'd managed to work through the computer pretty easily, though it could've been because Agatha left the screen right where they would need it.

Ace shrugged for the answer. "I don't know. We fell into that pattern and who am I to break it?"

"It would make your lives easier. You already like each other, might as well make it official and just be friends."

"I don't like her in any sense."

"Oh please, you're not the type to hate anybody."

Ace huffed. He and Agatha started off on the wrong foot and it would continue to be like that until the end of time.

~ 0 ~

The intention was to thank Agatha for helping the group out with their investigation. Nancy told Ace it would be better if he went in person to say it along with a miniature gift basket crafted by Bess. It was the least they could do for putting Agatha in a tight situation. As much as Ace tried persuading Nancy to do it herself, he lost the battle and went sent to the library with a damn basket He didn't even know what the gift was but it needed to be handed over to Agatha no later than today.

So, he trudged on to the library to find Agatha. He came directly up to the desk where Dominique sat. He internally groaned. No matter the relationship he had with Agatha, he would always prefer dealing with her instead of Dominique.

"Hey Dominique," he greeted in a mutter.

The woman didn't even do the same reactions that Agatha did, nothing to work with. "What do you want, Ace?" she demanded.

"I'm looking for Agatha. Is she in the back?"

"She's not in today. She won't be in for a while."

Now that was unusual. Agatha prided herself on her perfect attendance.

"Why not?" Ace asked.

Dominique rolled her eyes at him. "Car accident."

Oh. Ace didn't really know what to do with himself for a couple seconds. He wasn't really sure what he was feeling. It might be...concern? He almost shuddered had it not been for the voice inside his head telling him not to be that type of rude. He didn't detest Agatha to the point he wanted her hurt. That was just...too far and not his type of thing. "Is she okay? Was she hurt badly?"

The ever so helpful Dominique shrugged her shoulders. "Don't know. I think she had a broken leg or something."

"Is she in the hospital?"

"At home, I think." Dominique's eyes soon fell over the gift in his hand. "Don't tell me that's for her?" she almost laughed.

Ace rolled his eyes at her. "Well it's definitely not for you," he said and turned to leave.

He returned to the Claw to inform the others of what he learned and this time, no matter how much Nancy insisted that he drop the gift off at Agatha's house, she didn't get him to budge. He visiting Agatha at her house was beyond the question. He tolerated Nancy's disapproving stares for the rest of that day. She didn't understand that he just couldn't do it. He and Agatha made it publicly known how much they disliked each other. What proof did he have that her parents would even let him into the house?

So, Nancy and an equally disappointed Bess, got together to visit Agatha themselves and give her the gift in person.

Agatha hadn't been expecting them but she was grateful for their concern and their uneeded gift. She sat on her bed with her left leg enveloped in a cast. "This is too sweet, thank you," she smiled at the girls.

"We sent Ace to the library to give you the gift but that's when we learned...about that..." Nancy made a gesture to the cast, making Agatha chuckle.

"I'll be fine with time," Agatha said as she undid the knot of the gift. "Bess, you have really good basket searching skills," she said as she started going through the things inside.

Bess beamed. "Thanks! Hair products are a girl's best friend! And of course the chocolates!"

"Yeah," Agatha agreed with a laugh that was cut short for some reason.

"You okay?" Nancy asked, wondering if she was feeling some pain.

"Uh, yeah, yeah," Agatha cleared her throat. She put on a smile for the pair. "Thank you so much for dropping this by. You didn't really need to. I don't know what Ace has told you about me but I do like to help once in a while. But if you tell him that to his face, I will be very upset with you two."

Nancy smiled. "We won't." She and Bess decided to leave shortly afterwards. Agatha was still on medication that required her to rest, after all.

But instead of resting, Agatha went through her gift basket again until she found what she'd discreetly hidden at the bottom. She picked up the ace card from the basket and stared at it until she found herself snorting a laugh.

"You idiot," she shook her head. No doubt he had refused to come to her house. Smart move. She couldn't blame him.

~ 0 ~

Two months later would have Agatha pushing the doors of the Claw open to walk in.

"We're closing!" she heard a young woman exclaim.

"Not here to order anything!" Agatha called back. "Here to see a...person." She struggled to find the right word so she settled with the one that couldn't be argued with at all. The young woman walked over and Agatha saw 'George' on her name tag. "You're the owner of this place, aren't you?"

"Yeah," George set her hands on her hips. "And who are you?"

"Agatha Rhodes." As soon as she said her name, she saw the recognition flicker across George's eyes.

"Ooh, so you're the famous Agatha," George looked her over.

"He talks about me," Agatha sarcastically 'awwd'.

It amused George. "You're looking good to me now."

"Yes," Agatha gave a light clap to her left leg now perfectly healed. "By any chance, could I talk to Ace for just a second? Annoy him a little?"

"Who would I be to stand in your way," George gestured her towards the counter.

Agatha laughed. She liked George already. She headed for the counter and, without missing a beat, yelled: "Order up!" She sat on a stool and glanced back at George. "If he drops any plates, I'm going to laugh so hard."

George was already there. "Stop by anytime, please."

Agatha readied herself when Ace finally came around. Two months without taking jabs at each other meant he had to have come up with good things to say. She was fairly interested to learn what they were.

"You're walking again," he says instead. He was even surprised and big time, something that Agatha wasn't expecting.

"Uuh, yeah," she said, even looking down as if she'd forgotten the fact her leg was healed.

"Are you good?" He came up on the other side of the counter. Agatha had the faint feeling he wanted to peek down to see for himself that her leg was better. Maybe he did. It was very hard weeding out information out of Dominique when she cared very little about her co-worker. He couldn't well ask his mother about Agatha's state lest he was interested in getting a series of questions about it. He resigned to simply waiting and as it turned out, he was not good at waiting.

"Perfectly fine," Agatha answered him. "But you...you look like hell."

The familiarity was too much for Ace. He laughed shortly. "Right."

Agatha was right back to what she was used to do with him. The pattern, their law, their way of being was back on track. She just needed his usual responses from him which, for some reason, she wasn't getting so easily. "I'll be back at the library starting Tuesday so if you could do me the favor of not showing your face around there, that'd be great."

"I'll be sure to use the back door," Ace said, earning a sarcastic beam from her in return. It was odd to admit that he missed that. Really odd.

"Oh, and I almost forgot..." Agatha reached inside her cardigan's pocket and placed the ace card down on the counter. "You seemed to have misplaced this in the beautiful basket your friend Bess made for me."

Ace's eyebrows raised at the sight of the card. He was so grateful that it was just George in the place because if it were Nancy around, he would not hear the end of it. "Yeah..."

Agatha ducked her head to meet his gaze. "Hello? Has the insane hair of yours finally taken all the oxygen supply to your brain?"

Ace rolled his eyes. "Give me that," he took back his card. "I will be sure to see you on Tuesday, Atty."

She straightened in her stool to glare at him. "I told you to stop calling me that!"

Ace tucked the card into his pocket. "What was that, Atty?"

"Stop it!"

"Never."

Agatha groaned and slid of her stool. "I really hate you!"

Yup, they were back to their usual antics now.

"Before you go, I have something for you," Ace raised a finger, effectively stopping her out of sheer curiosity for what he was going to do next.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What?"

When he pulled out a playing card, she thought it was the same one she had just returned but when she inched closer to the counter, she saw it was different. And it was not funny at all.

"A joker card? Seriously?"

"Well, I just figured since I was lucky enough to get one from you..."

"I really hate you," Agatha rolled her eyes but, she did swipe the card off the counter anyways.

If someone asked her why, she wouldn't be able to answer. And if someone asked Ace why he was so elated, he wouldn't be able to answer either.

~ 0 ~

The next couple of times they met, whether it was casual or for mystery-related things, the cards somehow became a mode of introduction. Agatha felt a bubbling annoyance start as soon as Ace would slide his stupid card over the library counter (or sometimes just make it appear between his fingers like some magic trick). He enjoyed it too much.

"One of these days, I'm going to rip that card up," Agatha warned after handing a book over to him. She wouldn't even question what the hell kind of mystery he and Nancy had going on now. It was too hard to keep up.

"No you're not," Ace said with a heavy certainty that just made Agatha want to prove him wrong. But, of course, all she did was slide the ace card over the counter so he could take it back. She could easily just pick it up and tear it in two. In truth—maybe—she may have come to like their stupid game.

"Just take the damn book and go," she raised her hands in front of her. "And whatever you and your little crew is trying to solve, try not to come back and involve me."

"You wish, Atty."

"Stop calling me that!"

Ace smirked and mocked a salute for her. He grabbed his playing card, slipping it into the book as a bookmark, and headed off. Agatha was barely able to exhale when she heard her co-worker's remark.

"God, just get a room already." Dominique shooed her away from the computer to take up the spot.

Agatha stumbled back a few steps with widened eyes. "Gross! How dare you say something like that?"

Dominique rolled her eyes. "Drop it, Rhodes. I fear for my future around you two."

"Fear nothing because that's utter nonsense." With a huff, Agatha walked away from the desk. The nerve of that woman—no wonder Ace hated her too!

~ 0 ~

The moment Agatha learned the news of Ace's car crash, she felt like she was missing air. If she was being technical, she should say that she didn't believe it. It was a joke...except that it wasn't a joke. It was very, very real and she was...panicking. There she was at the library, in the middle of her shift, panicking at the spot. She wasn't focusing on anything, much less people coming up to check out books or to just ask questions. She couldn't focus on anything at all.

"Sheesh, for someone who doesn't care a lot, you look like hell," Dominique said.

Agatha didn't even have the energy to fight her this time. "It's a car crash. Of course I'm going to be concerned."

"That much?"

"This may come as a surprise to you, but I don't actually wish death upon anyone. Plus, we work with his mother. Can you imagine what she must be feeling right now?"

"Well I know what you're feeling right now." Dominique's smirk made Agatha wish she could throw a book at her right there.

But, Agatha kept to her menial tasks to avoid thinking so much. She had a couple of hours to go in her shift and she couldn't dream of asking for an early leave. She would never hear the end of it from Dominique anyways. She confined herself to waiting. Waiting, waiting, waiting.

At five o'clock sharp, she clocked out and hurried over to the hospital. Unsurprisingly, it was swarming with police officers. She could at least be certain that if the car accident hadn't been an accident, they would figure it out.

"Agatha?" she heard a familiar voice. Agatha looked around until she spotted Nancy and her friends on a set of chairs. Nancy was already getting up to greet her. "What are you doing here?"

"I, uh, I heard about the accident," Agatha bit on her bottom lip. "What the hell happened?"

"Just...an accident," Nancy replied. She would leave it at that for Agatha's sake. "It's unfortunate but, yeah..."

"Is he going to be okay?" Agatha kept glancing in the receptionist's direction. She very much wanted to go over there and ask direct questions there, but she was a fool to think she could get anything out of the woman. She was nothing of Ace's.

"He's in a coma but we're hoping for the best." Nancy watched the color drain from Agatha's face at the news. Clearly, she had not known about that.

"Coma," Agatha repeated in a shaky voice. "He's-he's in a coma? Oh my God!"

The last thing Nancy wanted was for Agatha to full-blown panic but because she was nearly there, Nancy decided to pull Agatha to the side to talk more in private. "You gotta listen to me, he's going to be okay."

"You just said he's in a coma, Nancy!" Agatha's yell was enough to pull the attention of some of the officers.

Nancy was quick to shush her again. "Listen to me, nobody else knows this but we sort of did a thing—"

"Oh I know! You guys always do 'a thing' which is why you're always at the library!"

"It was a thing to help him get out of his coma but you want to know something, Agatha? We don't need to go to the library. We choose to go to the library. Or, rather, Ace does."

"What?" Agatha couldn't, and didn't have the mindset to, decipher Nancy's vague statement.

"Agatha, a lot of what we need is online nowadays but we come to the library anyways."

"What the hell for!?" The question slipped out on automatic with all the sharpness in the world.

Nancy stared at her until Agatha would hopefully answer her own question. Agatha didn't. "Are you serious?" Nancy shook her head. "For you! Ace 'subtly' suggests the library because it'll have more concrete information. But we all know he just wants to see you!"

Agatha looked at Nancy in disbelief. "You're starting to sound like Dominique and that is a terrible thing to say, you know? But I had to do it."

Nancy rolled her eyes. "Don't play dumb, please. You're far from that. You know that I'm saying the truth. I wouldn't lie to you."

"Yeah?" Agatha scoffed. "You barely know me. You lie your way around to solve mysteries."

"I wouldn't lie to you because it involves my friend and because he likes you so much, I would never lie to you. You're important to him."

Agatha shook her head, wanting to push away all those words that were bringing up some weird feelings. "You're crazy, we hate each other. It's our thing. I like the way our thing is. Leave our thing alone.

"All I'm saying is to look where we are," Nancy gestured to the place, "I have faith that Ace will get out of this but this is a reminder that we don't have a guarantee of anything in this life."

It was scary how real this was getting. Agatha shook her fervently as if that would rid her ears of Nancy's words. "You know what? I have to go." She turned to leave, hearing Nancy's heavy sigh behind her, but she stopped a couple steps away. "Actually..." She turned back and though she deliberated her next move, she eventually pulled something out of her bag. "Could you give this to him?"

Nancy eyed the joker card in Agatha's hand. "What...what's that for?"

"He'll know," Agatha assured. He would know that she wasn't a terrible person and that she'd come to the hospital. It was important to her that he knew that.

"Yeah, okay," Nancy eventually said. She had no idea what the hell the card meant but she supposed this time it wasn't something for her to figure out. She took the card from Agatha, promising her that Ace would have the card as soon as he was lucid.

"Thanks," Agatha whispered. She turned to leave without looking back. She knew she couldn't come back and for some reason, it hurt. Once again, she would have to confine herself to the library and find out what happens through other means.

~ 0 ~

As the weeks went by, Agatha had to learn how to live without certainty. She once made the mistake of asking Ace's mother how things were going and Dominique overheard. She was lucky that Dominique had the decency not to blurt out any of her stupid comments but it was the last time Agatha took the risk. She didn't want to risk going through another awkward conversation with Nancy, so Agatha didn't even bother showing up at the Claw. She just...worked. She worked and did anything she could do to forget.

In a means to get away from Dominique (she'd been getting a little too cocky with feelings she thought she knew), Agatha decided to organize the returned books back to their right shelves. She found it was a lot better seeing book covers than have go's with her colleague.

"Hey there Atty."

Agatha nearly dropped her book out of a sheer startle. Once she had her bearings, she realized who had just called her that stupid nickname. Her head flipped to her right and met Ace's smug face. He stood nice and tall with no visible injuries. It was so relieving for Agatha that she had no idea what to do with all the feelings now stirring in her stomach.

"You...survived," she said, immediately regretting it because, really, that's what she could come up with? "Good." She grabbed a few more books and turned in the opposite direction. An insane heat worked itself up her neck and face. Why!?

"That's all you have to say?" At least Ace sounded like he was amused with her. He was definitely back to normal. "And here I thought I'd get a huge welcome back party." He hurried after her and caught up at the end of the aisle.

"You wish," Agatha said. She was only looking at her books and where they needed to go. "Actually, if you ask Dominique, she might be holding back a cake or something."

A short laugh came out of Ace. "I wouldn't be that stupid to try anything she made."

Agatha half smiled. "And here I thought you didn't have any brains."

"I got the hospital records to prove that I do." Ace thought he had delivered quite a clever response but it had just made Agatha's already small smile disappear.

She was just about to put a book away on a shelf when she paused. She met his gaze for the first time since he arrived. All jokes and snappy responses aside, she spoke earnestly. "It's good to see you're doing well again. Your parents must be very happy."

"Thanks," Ace paid her with the same honesty coin.

Agatha offered him one tiny smile then finished putting the rest of the books in her arms back in their appropriate spots. "Your mother's in the back," she said to him on her way past him to the cart.

"Yeah, actually, I was here to see you." Ace turned with her and walked behind her.

But we all know he just wants to see you!

Agatha cursed Nancy for ever saying that to her. Now she had to work hard to play dumb and act like this meeting was nothing but casual. "Yeah, what for?" She went through the cart for the next set of books she needed. "New mystery for the Scooby-Doo gang?"

"I came back to return this," Ace produced the joker card Agatha had left with Nancy.

Agatha felt like her face was on fire again. "Is that mine?"

"Obviously it's not mine. You, uh, left it..."

"Did I?"

As much fun as it would be to make jokes, Ace kept it serious. He thought long and hard about why he was coming to see her and why he even admitted it to her in the first place. "You came to the hospital," he said. It was a good place to start. Neutral.

It still seemed like a lot for Agatha. She hummed. "I did," she admitted. "As surprising as it is, I wouldn't want you to die on me. I'm not actually evil, you know."

"Oh, I know exactly what you are," Ace said.

Agatha deadpanned him for whatever comment was about to come out of his mouth. It never came. She left the books and the book cart to go retrieve her card from him. "I'll take that back now. I'll have to sanitize it, of course." She reached a hand for the card only to have Ace raise it high. "Seriously?" Agatha frowned. She was not about to jump for the damn thing. "I thought this is what you came here for. To give me my card back."

"I thought of a better place to give it back in," he said. She didn't quite care for his whimsical tone.

"Really?" she folded her arms. "And where would that be?"

"On a date with me this Saturday."

"What? I don't appreciate these types of jokes—"

"It's not a joke, Agatha, and you know it. That's not my style."

"You don't have a style."

Ace smiled. She just couldn't help her comments sometimes and it was fine, because sometimes he couldn't help them either. They came out like an instinct, especially when things seemed to get too close to...this. Maybe this is where they were always headed but because they were both stubborn, neither could ever admit to it.

After waking up from his coma, it was difficult for Ace to put together what happened. It was hard trying to make sense of anything for a while. Little by little, he started remembering more of what led to the accident and what he had been doing before. Once he started working again, things started falling into place again. It was only then that Nancy gave him Agatha's joker card. He was pretty upset that it took her that long to tell him Agatha had actually went to the hospital to visit him.

At that point, Nancy made him aware of just how upset he was and why he was. He wasn't a screamer, not even when he was angry, but he was a lot more upset after that. How dare she say something like that again?

'How dare you be upset that she didn't come see you yet?' was the clever response he got from Nancy. It startled him how true that was. He was upset that Agatha didn't show any sign of concern for his accident. Even when he realized that he failed to do the same for her during her accident, it still upset him. It hurt him.

He didn't like not having her around, even if it was just to bicker with. Then he started to wonder what it would be like to spend more time with her, more than their usual few minutes of bickering and taking jabs at each other. It sounded really nice. A fuzzy feeling, really that amplified each time he took out her joker card. He needed to stop being stupid and just admit to himself that he liked Agatha. So he did.

And now here he was, trying to put all of those thoughts into coherent sentences.

"Any restaurant you like, Agatha. Just you and me," he said. "And the card."

Agatha stared long and hard at him trying to search his face for any clue of what he was up to. "You can't...you can't be asking me out on a date," she said, her expression twisting with incredulity. "You hate me!"

"I don't hate anybody, Agatha," Ace shook his head. "It takes too much energy to do that."

"You hate Dominique!"

"Have you met Dominique?"

As much as she didn't want to, a smile broke across her face. He deserved a point for that one. "Ace..." She laughed a little, just a tiny bit.

"Agatha, I'm being very serious here. Do you want to go on a date?" He lowered himself to her height to meet her gaze.

She was reluctant to meet his eyes, especially when she was sure her blush was highly visible. "This is weird," she admitted.

"Yeah, but I'm hoping it might be a good weird...is it?"

Agatha started chewing on her bottom lip the more self conscious she got about her appearance. He was too close to her to not see the red of her blush, her shifty stance, and worst of all hear her speedy heartbeats. And yet, even with all of that, she knew what she preferred. "Yeah, it is a little."

"A little?" Ace scrunched his face. "I guess I'll take it. I can definitely change your mind."

Agatha scoffed. "Don't get cocky. In fact, don't get 'anything' on me."

"Yeah, alright, so that date...?"

"I guess...it wouldn't be that bad..." She was lying. It actually sounded very fun and possibly nerve-wrecking being alone with him for a whole date, but she decided that she wanted to be there. "Yeah, let's go on a date."

Ace found it was truly hard not to outright beam. He wanted to be cool about it. "Great! I'll pick you up Saturday at eight?"

Agatha slowly nodded at him. Things felt a little too surreal. "I'm...I'll be waiting." All nicely dressed and with a nice hair-do and maybe some make up.

"Sounds good, I'll be sure to bring your card along," Ace patted his side pocket.

"Well now wait a minute," Agatha said, raising a finger as a new thought came to mind, "You should give me your card in the meantime. Can't expect me to show up empty handed, right?"

Ace chuckled. "That sounds fair." He reached into his other pocket to pull out the ace card.

She reached to take it but, like the last time, he raised high above his head. "Would you stop doing that!?"

"I couldn't help it," he shrugged. "So, Saturday?" He handed her the card and let his fingers gingerly brush over her hand.

She swallowed hard. "Mhm," she nodded. She held onto his card tightly.

"We can, uh, put the cards on the table then." He flashed her a smile that widened when she laughed.

"I guess so," she agreed.

"See you then, Atty!" He expected the scowl on her face and as much as he fought it, he couldn't hold his laugh in.

"I really hate you," she tried to spat but this time it sounded like she was close to laughing too.

"Apparently, you don't!"

[iamallybee]

Because peeps on my dash are hooked on the Deltadi ship and have got me hooked too, here's a basic outline of how Delta Dawn and Dickory got together in the Gumdrop AU! It also calls back to my other Trolls headcanon posts so you might wanna read those before this one. Putting under the cut because this is looooong!

All his life, Dickory had been told that one day he’ll meet that special someone, he’ll experience certain feelings, of love and intimacy. But Dickory just...never felt it. He felt love for his family but romance? Sexual feelings? It never came to him. During his teenage years, he did feel like he was broken. He felt pressured to start his first relationship, telling himself feelings would come. It...did not end well. In fact, you could say it made him feel more broken than ever.

But then the avalanche happened. Due to the mass loss of yodellers, many of the young adults were pressured to marry and have children quickly to increase numbers and save their culture. In fact, it became a new tradition for yodellers to marry as soon as they turned 18. The only one to refuse this was an 18-year-old Dickory. He may have been shunned a little for his decision (which made him feel worse about his lack of sexuality) but he honestly didn’t have time to think about that anymore. His was still a kid who parents literally just died with a baby brother left behind to take care of. He had no time for marriage, he’d say to the other yodellers. His brother needed him and that is totally the only reason why he couldn’t marry. Throughout his life, Dickory would continue to feel stress and sadness, not knowing about being ace/aro and still believing there was something wrong with him. But at least he has Hickory and his new bounty hunting job to distract him.

Anyway, TWT happened and as soon as Delta found out that Hickory was really two trolls disguised as one country troll imposing on her beloved town, she had them arrested and put on community service for a unspecified amount of time. So she and Dickory did not have the best start in the slightest.

Hickory was soon made to do a report on Pop Trolls and left for Pop Village (and thus beginning his own romance with Poppy and Branch but that’s another story). Dickory was made to stay and do humiliating duties (like clean up after the livestock) while enduring the mockery of the locals and the ridiculously high heat. The only good/kind of less worse thing he saw in this was the fact that Delta’s niece, Clampers, was strangely drawn to him. She would nag and ask him questions about why he has two legs, what are those stumpy things on your hooves and can I bite them? Annoyed initially, he soon warmed up to her as she reminded him of Hickory when he was a child. Their friendship reached a point where they even started playing together. Delta witnessed this one day and maybe, just maybe, her heart may have melted. But only a little.

One day, after a restless sleep, Dickory decided to take a walk about town in the early hours of the morning. His was surprised when his keen ears picked up on a faint, mournful song from the cemetery. He found Delta singing with tears in her eyes to the grave of her sister. After awkward small talk, they both open up about the loved ones they've lost and how it changed them. They found their experiences to be remarkably similar (Delta lost her sister in a mining accident and was left to raise her daughter) and from that point on, they began to grow closer.

Over the next several weeks, Dickory began to actually care about the Lonesome Flats community and his service became a lot more voluntary and a lot less punishing. He would help the elderly, fix up anything that needed fixing, even learned how to herd up the livestock (although his first attempt was a complete hilarious disaster that Growley Pete just loves to tease him about). The locals soon began to think of him as one of their own and gained their respect, in turn gaining Delta's trust.

Delta and Dickory's friendship grew in that time too. In the beginning, she would order him to do certain task or else she would make him do something much more humiliating which used to tick him off. Now, she would ask him or else she would 'threaten' him to make him clean out Growley Pete's hooves, which he would respond with a sarcastic comment with a smile. They were pretty much very buddy-buddy. But the locals weren't blind to the underlying romantic tension between them.

Delta absolutely knew she was having romantic feelings for Dickory but she was at first hesitant. Country trolls are the type to take romance on head first and confidently but she was afraid of scaring him off so decided to bide her time for the right moment. Not exactly made easy when her parents totally shipped them and would try everything in their power to embarrass Delta enough into confessing.

Dickory, on the other hand, didn't know what to feel. Sure, he liked Delta now but she was just a good friend to have a drink and a laugh with, throw sarcastic comments at, arm wrestle with, share personal and past trauma history with, stare at and wish to touch her stupid big beautiful hair, want to hold close to-uh oh!

Suddenly it was like he was a teenager again but this time it was different. He liked her but it can't be THAT kind of love. It didn't exist for him, remember? He couldn't feel that love for anyone because he never did and it would never happen. She's a friend you care a lot about and that's it. Besides, even if there were feelings (which there weren't), it would be best if nothing happened because come on, she would never want someone who didn't like...well, y'know.

Basically, Dickory's in denial pretty hard.

Anyhow, the country trolls have a pretty big shindig one evening where there's plenty of dancing, laughing, drinking and fun. Both Delta and Dickory were having a great time but just as buddies, right? 

However, at one point in the early hours of the morning, they found themselves alone together and Delta, in a drunken stupor with all logic thrown out the window, confesses and boldly kisses Dickory. And then she passed out.

In the days following, things were very awkward. Delta remembered the kiss and was horribly embarrassed for being so careless. She decided it was best if they actually sat down and talked about it like adults. Only problem? Dickory was now deliberately avoiding Delta. He didn't want to ruin the friendship they already had but he also didn't want to have the conversation he knew was inevitably coming.

Finally, a frustrated Delta decided to f this and confront Dickory head on. A huge argument blew up between them (which temporarily cleared out the town) which culminated to Delta demanding to know why he doesn't want to be with her and Dickory yells back 'BECAUSE I'M BROKEN, DAMMIT!'

Silence.

After the shock, the pair of them calm down enough for Delta to gently encourage him to explain further. Dickory shakily and tearfully admits his unresolved negative feelings about his asexuality, the yodellers pressure on him to marry, how much its affected him and how wrong he's truly felt all these years and yet he somehow has feelings for Delta that he doesn't understand and how he can't be the man she wants him to be or give her what she would ultimately want.

Shocked, Delta tells him that she's sorry she ever made him feel this way but she only wants Dickory to be himself and if being himself means that he can't give her certain things then that's okay because she loves him just as he is.

But Dickory, still confused, emotional and a stubborn old goat, decides this is the best time to run off and return home.

Heartbroken, Delta writes to Hickory that his community service is up and he is free to return to his home. She tries her best to continue her duties as mayor but everyone can tell she greatly misses Dickory.

When the brothers reunite back to their homes, they also try to move on as normal but both of them have a lot to think about in terms of the things they went through recently (again, Hickory had his own romantic shenanigans going on as well). One night, the two of them talk about what they went up to in the past weeks and realise that the other has experienced love and are too stubborn to admit it. They even have a big sibling argument about it. I mean whose dumb enough to not look past their own insecurities and see that they are loved and they love them back and they shouldn't let the past hold them down in finding happiness and - oh, I see what's happening here!

Anyway, its agreed upon that Hickory and Dickory should return to Lonesome Flats and Pop Village to confess their feelings to their respective loved ones and not see each other until they do or someone's ass is getting beat (y'know, normal sibling pact stuff).

So

In true spaghetti western style, Dickory returns to Lonesome Flats. He stares Delta down from one side of town to the other, locals watching with baited breath. He yells to Delta for the whole town to hear, that he was an idiot for running away and that he wasn't sure how they were going to figure things out in the future. But he's here now, he's not running away anymore and he loves her too.

Delta, without saying a word, storms up to Dickory, picks up up from under the arms and gives him a great, big, long overdue smooch to the cheers of the townsfolk and the cries of 'FINALLY' from her parents and niece (meanwhile, Growley Pete starts collecting bets).

Anyhow, Dickory moves to Lonesome Flats, eventually marries Delta, adopts Clampers as his niece, is fully content with being demiromtic/asexual, yada yada, happy ending, mwah! (I am a master of storytelling)

[gildedmuse]

So I seem to remember promising more Sora: Warrior Of The Sea Beach Episode. And by "seem to remember" I mean, it's in writing and thus hard to ignore. So despite the fact that none of you care, guess what? You're getting more of this ZoLaw AU.

First off, every member of the cast and crew understands the purpose of a beach episode: to waste time at the beach. Which means that everyone pulls up with swim trunks, blankets, grills and umbrellas. They are basically there to have a beach vacation.

I say everyone. Not Law. Law does not come prepared to party, he comes prepared to be pissy. But like everyone else (Yes, even Mihawk. Though technically only due to Shank's influence. Shanks forces him is what I'm saying. "Hey, even Beckmen is joining in the fun!" / "Benn always joins in these ridiculous games." / "What? My Beckmen? No! He's usually so mature and serious." / "He only seems that way compared to you. Because you are a child.")

The resulting shoot is pretty much pure chaos. Perona and Hancock are more interested in sunbathing than acting. Killer is kicking everyone's ass at volleyball. Franky and Ace are having a grill off to see who makes the better hamburgers and hot dogs (Sanji would totally win except that Pudding-Chan is right there and in a bikini and look, at some point it's difficult to care about things that aren't that.) Zoro and Luffy, meanwhile, are pretty much exactly the children you expect them to be, much to Robin's amusement. Look, she wrote a scene where Sora and Daichi "play wrestle" in the sea, but it has nothing on the actual thing. Because Zoro can often be oblivious and because, you know, Luffy she is sure they don't mean for it to look so homoerotic. It's just a shame Nami isn't here to capitalize on this. She could definitely sell Zoro pinning Luffy to the sand or Luffy wrapping around Zoro like he's made of rubber for more than a few quid.

Law is not enjoy this shoot.

Even when Benn finally gains enough control to start getting actual work done (you'd be surprised how authoritative Mihawk can be even in purple swim trunks) it soon becomes clear that this is going to be a longer than normal shoot. Not because the logistics, just people are not even trying. Ace will just start smiling in the middle of a scene where he shouldn't be smiling, and because Zoro really takes his cues on acting from Ace he'll immediately start smiling regardless of the line. Then Sanji will get angry with them both, which Pudding will think is adorable, thus leading to Sanji forgetting the script entirely to pay attention to her. Perona will tell Zoro off and get too close in his face, which will make Luffy jump in to "protect his virtue" (on order from Nami) which will make Boa jealous because how dare another woman be so close to her Luffy. Which will make Ace and Zoro annoyed which will make Robin giggle, which will distract Franky which will ultimately lead to the effects not working like they should, which will cause Shachi, Penguin, and Ikkaku to huddle up (definitely not them just laying on the sand and enjoying the day out) which of course gets Shanks and Mihawk's attention. Shanks tries to separate Perona and Luffy while Mihawk gives Zoro and Ace The Look which, despite his still authoritative aura is SLIGHTLY less effective when he's standing there in just swim trunks. Curse Shanks. So in the end, with a heavy sigh, he has to go train instruct Zoro in what he should actually be doing in the scene which somehow ends up with his hands at Zoro's bare waist as he goes through it all yet again.

Law HATES this. Fucking. Shoot.

Which is why he is so close to just leaving, as per Robin's suggestion. They don't need him there. Clearly. They can all get along quite well without him. It's obvious now that Law's real job is babysitting and at this particular location all attempts to be an adult are fruitless.

So Law is all set to leave but then Zoro gets out of the ocean, dripping wet, and heads towards his drink which Law happens to be standing beside. Not watching. Definitely. If anything, glaring. And he tries to keep glaring out at Luffy and Ace messing around as Zoro takes a nice long drink, eyes clearly focused on Law.

Which isn't distracting.

Zoro: Aren't you hot?

Law: *Takes a second to process what that actually means, covering by his continued glare* These are work appropriate clothes, Zoro-ya. Not all of us have forgotten why we're here.

Zoro: *Snorts* RIght. You can't be seen having fun, isn't that so Torao?

Law: *Turning his glare towards Zoro which is maybe a mistake because skin and water and mouth and eyes* I'm only being practical.

Zoro: That sounds boring *Reaching out to grab the end of Law's shirt* You should come have fun with us, Torao. You might even enjoy it. *Sideways smirk that is far too dangerous in nature, anyone with self preservation instincts would run*

Law: *Doesn't run* I… *Is older than Zoro and more experienced than Zoro and always the one to make suggestive comments to Zoro so how is it Zoro has currently got his hands wrapped in Law's shirt while Law seems unable to speak?* I didn't even bring-

Zoro: *Stepping closer, raising Law's shirt up a few inches to show his intent* It's just the crew, it's not like anyone will care.

Law: It wouldn't be very appropriate, Zoro-ya…. *Come on! He's half stripping you down! Be flirty or clever or mysterious or hell just step back and make him stop if you can't come off as at least competent. What the hell is wrong with you? Fuck, he's so close. And there's this trail of water falling from his hair to his lips. Fuck.*

Zoro: Look around. No one here is trying to be "appropriate" Torao. *Steps closer, feeling safe. Feeling cocky. Today has been all sword fights with Killer and sea fights with Luffy and Ace. Can you blame him for being in a good mood? And Law needs to join in, obviously. He's standing up here on the beach looking so miserable and serious. What he needs is to be dragged into the water and force to actually have some fun.* Unless…. *Cocks his head, looking Law over* You can swim, can't you?

Law: I - *It'd be nice if he could swallow right now because it definitely feels like he's going to start drooling. That damn water is curving up on the underside of Zoro's lower lip and he's so close. Law could lap that up for him. Could pin Zoro down and just….*

Zoro: *Beaming* It's alright. Luffy can barely swim, either. *Nods out to the water where currently Luffy is splashing around, riding on Ace's shoulders*

Law: *Eyes go to Luffy and Ace for once second and when he looks back Zoro seems so much closer.*

Zoro: *Still smiling even as he starts to peel off Law's shirt* Come on. *Tugging him by the arm, despite the fact he's still in his jeans and no wait he didn't agree to this!* We'll go together.

Law: *Manages to get Zoro to stop long enough to peel off his jeans so he's down to his boxers, which Zoro flushes at and isn't that what he meant? He can't be so inexperienced. Fuck, Law just wants to ruin this boy, he really does. But then Zoro is back to shoving him towards the sea, happily announcing to Ace and Luffy that he has a fourth and what does that even mean? What has Law gotten himself into?*

It turns out to be an overly competitive game of chicken (both Ace and Zoro really take it far too seriously while Luffy is clearly there for fun but also will break Law's nose if it comes down to it). Which means Law has his legs wrapped around Zoro, whose hands are curled up around his thighs and this could not get any worse.

He thinks.

Totally unaware that Robin has her phone out and is capturing this entire magical moment. And when Franky sits beside her asking why she's filming them fighting she just gets this smile that makes him want to unask because he knows Robin.

Mihawk has to eventually call the boys out to shoot a scene. He stands at the edge of the water with his typically displeased look. Law would feel so much more ashamed if Zoro hadn't chosen to just drop him slightly so Law's legs are wrapped around his waist, and carried him out of the water like that. Law tries to give his boss an apologetic look but it's difficult when he's so wrapped around Zoro, and Zoro's hands keep finding new places on his legs to hold him up. (And maybe Mihawk shouldn't look at actors who work for him that way. And maybe Mihawk should spend less time instructing Zoro. And maybe Mihawk can go to hell because Law has called dibs on this one. This one is his.)

(Also, thank you for this opportunity, Mihawk-san)

(Also, did Zoro really need to flash that smile at Mihawk? Did Mihawk's face just soften slightly? Isn't he like twice Zoro's age? He should really-)

Then Zoro drops him on the sand, and he's leaning over Law, practically on top of him. All other thoughts basically stop.

Zoro: *Beaming* See? Wasn't that better than just sitting around?

Law: *Forgets how breathing works for just a moment, and is way too out of breath by the time he recalls the process. So his mind goes into default Defensive Mode. He frowns* You just wanted a chance to beat Mugiwara-ya.

Zoro: Well… *Shrugs, like obviously. That isn't really the point, is it? Since he chose Law?* You did well Torao. For a beginner.

Law: *Crossing his arms across his chest, which is difficult with Zoro right there. Looks to the side, determined not to give a single inch* I don't like being used Zoro-ya.

Zoro: Right. *Frowns, pushing away from Law* It was Luffy's suggestion anyway.

Law: *Carefully glancing back* What was?

Zoro: *No longer looking at Law* To come get you. Tch. Like I would ever want to pair up with you, Torao. *Pushes off the sand, stalking off towards Mihawkk and the shoot*

Law: *Pushes himself up onto his elbows, watching Zoro go. Can't help feeling like he really messed up.*

Robin: Perhaps you should be more careful with our stuntman's feelings.I suggest next time you be more honest with him.

Law: *Doesn't jump at Robin's sudden appearance next to him. Totally.* There won't be a next time. This is a pointless waste of an episode and the studio will see that.

Law: *As an afterthought* And I was honest.

Robin: *Sets a hand on Law's shoulder in a quiet moment of commiseration*

Also Robin: I have it all on tape if you wish to watch it back. *Leaves*

Law: *Hates this fucking episode*

Law: ….. *Maybe wants to examine that tape.*

[georgemackayhey]

Lucky Stars

"George imagine idea where your acting in a movie with him as his romantic interest but it's ur first acting job ever and your super nervous because he's your celeb crush, but he's super sweet to you the whole time and maybe he invites you over to his flat for dinner so they can get to know eachother better xx"

Not gonna lie, it's been really hard for me to write the past couple weeks. Here's a request I've managed to whip up. Just know I'm still tryin' yall! Keep sane out there ♡

w/c: 2k

───※ ·❆· ※───

There wasn't much more that dazzled you aside from the big screen. Watching actors craft stories between laugh tracks and big band music was the closest thing to magic you knew.

So you moved to L.A, the beating, bleeding heart of showbiz. You weren't sure you'd get very far, but all you wanted was to try. And if you missed your shot at being a great storyteller, you'd still have all your favorites to watch back. It seemed you learned something new from them every new view.

The only thing you had to lose was a bit of shame. The few friends you'd made of neighbors and postmen since moving warned you that the harsh world of auditions and guest lists would make you bitter before too long.

But even after landing a few national commercials,  the voice on a low budget children show, and some walk-on television roles, you found out all your neighbors and mailmen were wrong.

A blush burned your cheeks every time you auditioned, whether you delivered a line perfectly or not. And every time you found out you'd been taken off the guest list to someone's exclusive get together you were thrilled at the concept of having ever been invited at all.

You'd come here to bring life to characters with a story to tell. You were so focused on finding new auditions and studying the art of becoming someone else, sometimes you'd lost track of your own value.

When you were sought out to play the lead on a Netflix series, you almost didn't know what to do with yourself. You stayed up all night, making newly matched outfits out of all your old clothes, in an excited daze of trying to get in the headspace of your new character.

You hardly slept the month leading up to table reads, scouring over the little information you had to memorize, determined to be at the top of the game you'd been trying to play for years.

You memorized all your lines, showed up early, and stayed late even when it seemed uncalled for. The truth was you feared if you stopped working so hard, you'd lose it all. Just the right number of messed up lines, just one wrong missed morning, and you'd be back where you started, trying to get to where you were now.

And everyone you met and worked with assured you that you must have had a natural talent in order to have landed a role in such a demanding spotlight. But you couldn't risk it.

By the end of the table reads, you felt like you'd aced a test you spent half of schooling studying for, but still managing to scrape by with a few missed steps.

By when it came time to start shooting, despite all your best efforts to come prepared, you found yourself in a bit of a predicament.

Enter George... your love interest. He was dangerous, in the sense that he had all the stunning looks of a fallen angel but the manners of a bashful 1950's soldier. And besides all his charming qualities, George was a damned good actor.

You didn't want to be the stereotypical girl who fell for her first majorly attractive costar, a low budget Kate clawing for a shred of the next Leonardo DiCaprio's attention, behind the scenes. So when George hovered near enough for you to notice, you reserved yourself down to shy nods and hurried manners to move through the day.

And besides that, when the director called action, you'd become ritualistically nervous. No matter who was acting alongside you, or what set you moved around on, before you got into the swing of delivering your lines, you always had to work at quick speeds to hurdle over a sudden rush of anxieties.

Your director was a kind old soul, always giving you space to breathe and the perfect instructions for you to get your head in the game.

But of course, your anxious jitters multiplied with every scene you were meant to shoot with George.

"Action!" Your director hollered, the sound of bells and whistles alarming everyone to quiet down. You were attempting your third take of a certain scene where your character was meeting George's for the first time. But every time he delivered a certain line alongside a certain longing gaze, you locked up, getting lost in the way his shining eyes seemed to search yours, for real.

And by this take, you hadn't opened up from shutting down the last time. You lingered nervously in the doorway you were meant to enter, mouth open, empty of the words you were meant to say.

George was meant to be distracted. But he curiously glanced over his shoulder, pricing eyes falling pitifully onto you. Then whipped his head toward the director, raising a pausing hand before spinning back in your direction.

Some of the crew went on chattering as George made his timid approach your way, like he was the nervous one. You admired his strong features, his unforgiving beauty. His bold looks were almost a contrast to his soft-spoken nature.

"Are you alright?" He asked in a low, concerned tone. You were almost embarrassed under his searching gaze, but you'd be a fool not to look right back at him. And he was the first person to ask how you were, instead of telling you how to be.

"I just get locked up sometimes. I know all the lines, I just..." You stuttered, ending your explanation with a nervous laugh. George softened too then, like he was glad you didn't have anything worse holding you back.

"Well you know you don't have to start right when they call action. I always take a beat and play the scene over in my head before I go into it." George shrugged, shifting his weight a little nearer to you.

"Yeah, that's a good idea."

"If you'd like, maybe we could run some lines together later. It's always easier to act with someone when you know how they intend to go about the scenes." George let out a gentle laugh, searching your face as you rose a brow in surprise.

"That sounds lovely. If we get through this scene alive that is." You chuckled, shooing him back toward his mark, with some kind of heavenly choir soundtracking your inner monologue. How had you just gotten so lucky?

You nailed the scene after George's well-meaning pep talk and as the day wound to a close, he followed you to a coffee shop on the lot of the studio. The pair of you ordered drinks and talked about the scenes you were meant to share.

He was right, it was much easier to think of walking through each line when you knew how each other felt about the character's motives and feelings. After you'd exhausted the week's script, you took the rest of your coffee and floated home on cloud nine.

After that day, acting with everyone became much easier. You'd settled into a swing, and learned to take deep breaths before diving into whatever scene you shot. But there were some days you were reminded of how important this all was to you. That you were living your dream. And thoughts like that overwhelmed you enough to screw up lines and freak out during lunch breaks.

Your director was kind and always gently eased you back from the brink of losing it. But on days where the script called for shooting profound and difficult scenes, you'd still get caught up in it all.

And, somehow, George always knew just how to talk you out of your nervous state. But today, the director kept changing up the set, and all the lines, shifting you around different camera angles, calling for you and George to kiss about a dozen times in a row. It was getting hard to handle your increased heart rate, and frustration.

"Please don't freak out, darling. It's myself I'm unhappy with." Your director insisted as you shuffled to the side stage to control the breath caught in your throat. He called for a quick break while he sent someone to go find another new prop.

By the time your director had everything sussed out, you still couldn't stop pacing in time to try again.

That's when George stepped in, right in time as always. He assured you that you didn't have to do anything you didn't want to do. Did he seriously think you were put off by having to kiss him a dozen times in a row? Quite the opposite really. Your heart was threatening to burst.

And your director seemed settled on his changes at last, and George was such an excellent example of overabundant patience and kindness that you took his hand and pulled him back on set to get it over and done with.

"You should take my place boy! She takes your direction better than my own!" Your director laughed. It was a funny little remark, one you barely registered in your anxious state.

George was absurdly kind to you. And you were frighteningly receptive to him.

He invited you to keep running lines, as a courtesy. You knew that.  Every other day, a half hour at the little coffee shop down the way, it was strictly business.

But you couldn’t help swooning a little when he asked you to dinner, one night. Sure, the rest of the cast had been invited too, but he asked you with a gleam in his eye, you swore you spotted a shimmer.

When it came time to join your co-stars at a fancy brewery, George saved a seat for you at his side. You spent the whole evening chattering about your characters and how you did or didn't relate to them. Your castmates broke into separate conversations when you and George rambled too long about your favorite old films.

And then you went home alone, but you'd never felt more a part of anything in your life. You felt like you belonged.

Days on set became saturated in pure fun. Everyone had gotten to know each other well enough to share commonalities and branch off into groups. And George was usually a part of yours.

He'd join you and a few others on lunch trips. And you were usually the one sent to wake him up from power naps in the middle of the day.

It probably helped that he was always apart of the scenes you shot, and you a part of his. It probably helped that your trips to the coffee shop to read lines turned into mini therapy sessions, where one or the other of you would decompress after a long day, talking about how exhausting it was to pretend to be someone else for so long.

By the time things were beginning to wrap up, you'd realized how utterly attached to George you'd become, without realizing it. You'd always fawned over him sure, but one day you spotted him across the room and felt some supernatural force moving you to meet up with him. And as you moved to join his company you had to wonder when you'd become so delightfully used to it.

You'd get a little too swept up Geogres soft laugh, and the way he asked your opinion about every little thing. You didn't want his company to fizzle away after this was all said and done.

You didn't want to move on to another set, memorize another script. You wanted your own tales to tell, thoughts of your own to share. And... you wanted George to be a part of all of that.

Going home alone at the end of the day seemed more lonely as the weeks went on. And by the time the production had come to an end, you were floored by the sadness that loomed over you.

Your director shouted hoorays and passed out proud sentiments during your last shoot, and as much as you wanted to give proper goodbyes to your fellow actors, you took cover in your trailer to manage your blue feelings.

When you were sure everyone had left, busy to catch another audition or dinner with a friend, you tried to do the same. But every time you tried to leave your trailer, your heart sunk to your feet. You didn't know how to walk away from it all.

By the time you started your slow drift through the shutdown set, all the camera stands and light posts having been abandoned, you soaked up the empty scene, searching for a bit of closure. But all too soon you realized you weren’t alone.

“You’re still here too?” George smiled, stepping into view. His eyes were still bright enough to see in the dimly lit soundstage. You took the sight of him in for a bit, struggling to accept there wouldn't be any more moments quite like this one.

“I’m having a hard time saying goodbye, it seems.” You smiled, despite your honest somber tone. It was probably the most transparent you’d ever really been with him, on or off set.

“What if you didn’t have to?” George asked after a silent beat. The quiet returned just after, as you searched his face, trying to understand what he was asking.

“I think… I think this stopped pretending a long time ago. At least for me,” His lean figure shifted closer to yours as his hand gestured to the space between the two of you. You wondered if this was some vivid fever dream.

“George…” You warned and wondered, all the same, your heart rising from the floor and threatening to burst right out of your chest while George kept his eyes delicately zeroed in on yours.

“Maybe it doesn't have to end here. Maybe we could be together… for real.”

You let out a nervous breath of a laugh. Was this some cruel prank? “Why are you saying this? Do you really feel that way?”

“I realized, maybe too late, that I wasn’t just acting. And I have a hunch you weren’t either.” George dared to step closer, his eyes falling to your mouth as you bit your lip to save from saying something you might have regretted.

“There are no cameras. It’s just us now, really us. And I really like you.” George dared to close the gap between you as he spoke each word with care. And when he raised a hand to tilt your chin, you were done for.

His lips melded with yours, one arm circling around your waist to pull you close as could be. Time seemed to freeze over and speed up all at once, thoughts spinning in a blur in your mind as you kissed George back.

You weren’t sure how long it lasted, only that he pulled away too soon.

“Come to the premiere with me?” George asked quietly, pushing some of our hair away from your eyes.

“Lucky for you that’s the deal.” You grinned, gazing into his eyes as he kept a stronghold around you. The whole cast had long been chattering about how excited you all were to promote your show together.

“But we’ve got a few weeks till then. How shall we pass the time?” George asked like he was afraid he wouldn’t get to see you until then.

“I’ve got a few ideas.” You admitted shyly, “You could come home with me if you’d like to start checking off that list.”

“I thought you’d never ask.” George smiled, leaning in for another quick, sweet kiss.

As you tangled your fingers together, walking into the warm summer night, you felt lucky for having ended up here when you did. You'd moved to this city of all cities to tell someone's story. And then it hit you. All those scripts and plots, they'd been born from something, from somewhere. You realized that you didn't just want to be a part of the narrative.

You wanted your own. And you wanted it with George. You wanted to live such a spectacular chain of events alongside him that in a few decades time, that one day they'd retell your own story on the big screen.

When you looked over to see George happily floating in step with you, you wondered who might play the pair of you in the rom-com they based off of your very own love story. Above everything, you hoped he'd always be your leading man.

───※ ·❆· ※───

[hejer-maomao]

It's okay I dont mind requesting for ikerev! So! How do you think, Lancelot, Fenrir, Jonah and Harr would react to being walked in by someone when they're having sexy timezz with their female s!o? Thanks^^

Since my country is in complete quarantine at the moment, I’m stuck at home and I’m getting really anxious.

And since writing usually helps in calming me down, I decided to look at my poor neglected inbox and respond to some asks that are long overdue! *sweats nervously* 

My dear, I hope you forgive the long wait and enjoy this! ༼ つ ಥ_ಥ ༽つ

Some NSFW hints, so under the cut just to be safe (✿´‿`)

Lancelot, Fenrir, Jonah and Harr’s reactions to being walked in during intimate moments HCs:

Lancelot:

His long fingers were firmly holding your waist in place as his lips sucked and licked and marked your chest. Your head was thrown back in blissful pleasure, your upper body fully leaning on the King of Hearts’ desk as you struggled to catch your breath.

Raising his head to look at you, Lancelot sensuously licked his lips, heated gaze locked with your naked form sprawled on the wooden surface.

Your eyes, bottomless pits of desire, latched into your lover as he slowly moved his hands further down your sides and began to remove the last piece of article hiding you from him.

Lancelot was the first one to notice when the door of his office started to open, the loud voice of a drunkard Kyle spilling into the silent room. With one smooth gesture, Lancelot’s red cape was upon you in seconds, successfully hiding you from anyone’s eyes. 

The newcomer’s footsteps froze in place as he took in the sight before his eyes before finally registering the scene. Few seconds of utter silence dominated the room before finally being broken by your embarrassed gasp as you finally came down from your height. Lancelot’s commanding voice immediately echoed in the room as he solemnly ordered the Red Army doctor to “Leave.”

Almost tripping in his attempt to flee his King’s wrath, Kyle made a leap to the door, all alcohol suddenly evaporating from his system. Once the door was firmly shut behind him, Lancelot turned back to you, his warm body replacing the fluffy cape you were enveloped in.

Seeing as you covered your eyes and whimpered in embarrassment, shaking your head at Lancelot’s attempt to continue where you stopped, the King of Hearts placed his lips near your ear and whispered two words in a low, husky voice.

You ended up spending the rest of the day in Lancelot’s office and spent the next week avoiding Kyle’s equally embarrassed gaze.

Fenrir:

You told him. You fucking told him not to touch you in the living room in the middle of the day when anyone can walk in on you.

You were supposed to be the most rational out of your pair and it was your job to stop your reckless boyfriend before he ruined both of your reputations.

But how could you resist those gorgeous sapphire eyes looking at you with desire burning at the bottom, hear his ragged breaths beside your ears and feel his calloused hands gently lift your skirt and touch your inner thighs and say no?

The result of your momentary loss of control was Seth’s loud shriek as he entered the Black Army living room with the intention of retrieving some documents he left out on the table.

Fenrir’s reaction was instantaneous, one hand moving your skirt back into place and the other bringing your head closer to his broad chest to hide your flushed face full of desire.

The Ace of Spades turned around, a sheepish grin drawn on his face as Seth’s yelling rose in volume, spouting what sounded like “FENRIR FUCKING GODSPEED I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!” and “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY PRECIOUS ALICE” before he angrily stormed out of the room still screaming bloody murder and threatening to call Sirius over.

Your face was so flushed that Fenrir was worried you were not properly breathing. The horrified feeling rising within your chest as reality dawned on you was diffused in mere seconds as Fenrir dropped his face into the crook of your neck and held his breath. His body slowly started shaking in laughter as he held you closer to his body, ignoring your appalled reaction.

As you found yourself lightly hitting his firm back as a punishment for his reckless actions, a smile rose on your face and giggles spontaneously spilled out of your lips as you finally joined you boyfriend in his fit of laughter.

Jonah:

“Get out of here.” Jonah’s cold voice quietly rang in the empty room, carrying his unrestrained rage to the poor soul who dared to enter his room to clean up without knocking on the door first.

You sighed in exasperation between Jonah’s solid arms as his body shielded your naked form from view the minute the door of the bedroom opened.

The whole situation, was in fact, Jonah’s mistake. At this time of the day, the Queen of Hearts would usually be out at the training grounds carrying on his duties and supervising his soldiers. Jonah, however, stepped out for a while from the training to retrieve a document Edgar requested from him. 

When he found you in the room, still fresh out of your morning shower, a small peck quickly escalated to a full on making out session and then your clothes were on the floor and Jonah’s hands were pulling you closer to him, parting your legs and then, well, THIS awkward situation happened.

Okay, maybe it was also your fault for not stopping Jonah in time, but that was beside the point.

The Red Army soldier who was in charge with cleaning the room was now shaking in fear at the threshold. The more Jonah coldly glared at him, the more he was unable to move his feet from his spot. Few seconds passed and you could feel your lover’s rage rising in intensity and you honestly felt sacred for the soldier’s well being if he did not leave that instant. 

You were debating whether you should grab your discarded towel on the floor to hide yourself and move to dispel the tension in the room or try and calm down a fuming Jonah when the door finally clicked shut behind a hurrying figure as a new soldier dragged his friend from the door, a quick apology in tow.

Jonah inhaled deeply, his teeth gritting in anger as he swept his gaze on you, making sure you were alright in his embrace. Your cheeks felt flushed and you could already see how embarrassed you will be the minute you encounter those two soldiers again in the course of the day, but your softly chuckled at your boyfriend’s adorable pout and allowed him to drop some kisses on your shoulders before kicking him out of the door with a warning not to touch you for the rest of the day.

Harr:

Your were furious. Completely and utterly furious at Loki.

It took you countless of pecks, cuddles, begging and pleading for a whole year just to get Harr to accept touching outside of the confined four walls of your bedroom. You wanted his hands on you as you lay on the grass of your favorite picnic spot in the forest, his lips kissing your chest and his hands caressing your hair as his mouth makes its way down south.

And it finally happened. You have succeeded in provoking your otherwise calm boyfriend and pushed him past his limits as you sat on his lap, and Harr was on top pf you within seconds, his hands unbuttoning your blouse as he passionately kissed your lips.

You were drunk on the feeling of victory mixed with intense desire for your lover, when you heard the faint rustling of the grass behind you. You barely registered the sound as a threat as Harr’s lips left your mouth to latch into your throat causing a soft moan to escape your lips. It was probably just wind, you carelessly thought before you moved your hands to thread through Harr’s black hair.

The playful amused voice that rang just a few feet away from you in the next second, however, was impossible to simply discard as the wind. Loki’s voice was laced with mirth as he feigned surprise and shouted “Oh my, am I interrupting something?”

Harr was off of you in mere seconds, his face gaining a deep crimson flush as he locked eyes with his student. Not skipping a beat, his left hand shone in silver light and a soft blanket immediately dropped on your front, hiding you from view.

But before Harr could utter a word to explain the situation to a grinning Loki, you caught his arm and dragged him back to you, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

Still laying down, you shot a glare at a now confused Loki, and softly smiled at him before responding “Yes, we’re in the middle of something that children shouldn’t interrupt.”

The last thing you saw was Loki’s stupefied face before a white light surrounded your surroundings and you found yourself back in the cabin in a blink of an eye.

It is needless to say that Harr spent the next few weeks avoiding eye contact with Loki and shying away from any of your attempts at touching him. You, on the other hand, is already planning your next picnic with another scheme in mind.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Not father by blood, but still your father; Roger Taylor x reader (oc! child)

*Author’s note*

Well after a full day of writing this idea in my head, I finally worked up the courage to post this.  Sorry if it feels a little rushed with the romance stuff, but I hope the platonic stuff fills all of you with warm feels and gooeyness. There's not really much warning except for the arsehole Paul Prenter who has to ruin everything. So I hope you all enjoy this fic and don't forget to like and comment below and above :)

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@ixchel-9275

@waddles03

@geek-and-proud

@queendeakyy

@coolcxt

@mexifangorl

@platawnic

___________________________________________________________

Never did he think he’d be ready for this step so soon.  But the second he set eyes on (y/n) (l/n), Roger Taylor was twitterpatted.  It was 1971 when he first met her.  Just shortly after Queen had recorded their first album, he was browsing through a record shop one day and that’s when he heard her recommend the new Hendrix album over the AC/DC.

From that moment on, it was love and first sight with Roger.  But of course flirter that he was, she at first wasn’t interested but after a few attempts at being a gentleman at various occasions like whenever she saw him perform at the bigger pubs and small venues, she decided to give him a chance.

After about six months of being together, the longest he had ever had a committed relationship, (y/n) confessed something to him. She was petrified to tell him but he assured her that he wasn’t going to flee no matter what it was.

It was then she confessed that she had another guy in her life.  At first Roger thought she was cheating on him but it was then she told him it wasn’t another boyfriend, but her son.

About a year before she met Roger, she and her ex-boyfriend dated for a good six years together, soulmates at college. That was until she found out that she was pregnant and at first she thought he was cool with it, until one day his stuff was packed and he was nowhere to be found.  He never called or wrote to her telling her where he had gone, it was like he vanished off the face of the earth.

It was then any other relationship she tried to start up with, as soon as a kid was brought up, every guy high-tailed to the hills and didn’t want another date.

Surprisingly for Roger, he didn’t flee.  I mean yeah a kid is a big responsibility but he was just in admiration of how strong she truly was knowing that even after all that she went through, she somehow still managed to keep a job at the café she worked in, raise a son all on her own and still somehow be this vibrant spirit he saw her to be.

Roger also decided that he would like to meet the little guy because if he was going to be in her life, then he needed the approval of the man who loved her most.  And let’s just say the day Roger met little Caleb, he fell for him just like he fell for his mother.

Even at just 18 months old, Caleb immediately took to Roger and always wanted to be around him.  He’d crawl over to him and try to stand up on his own by using Roger’s jeans as an anchor for pulling himself up.

As Caleb grew older, he came to see Roger as the father figure he needed.  And Roger was more than happy to fill in that role.  He taught Caleb everything from cars, to drums, hell by the time the kid was 4 he bought him his own mini-drum kit (hoping to teach him to play before Brian weaseled his way into teaching him guitar, or Freddie with the piano).

In fact all the boys of Queen grew to love Caleb like their own nephew and they couldn’t help but spoil the boy too much, especially Freddie.

It was now 1975 and the boys were off at Rockfield farm recording their 5th album “A night at the Opera”.  But they were also prepping something else, for tomorrow was July 23rd, and that meant for the boys of Queen that it was going to be Caleb’s 6th birthday.

(Y/n) and Caleb were planning to get there by morning so that meant she was probably driving them all the way to the farm as they speak.  Freddie and Brian were putting up the last of the decorations while Deacy tended to the cake.

“Please tell me the cake got done properly this time.” Said Roger as he came down the stairs with the gifts.

“No worries Roger, never doubt my baking skills. At least Brian and I know how to deal with eggs.”

“That was one time Deacy!” Roger exclaimed.

“Try seven. You’re lucky (y/n) came along when she did and at least tried to stop you from doing it the 8th time in a month.”

“Oh sod off! Fred, Bri the streamers up yet!?”

“Take it easy darling you can’t rush perfection.” Freddie said.

“I’m not rushing perfection, I’m rushing you!”

“Take it easy Rog, we’ll get this up in plenty of time.” Brian tried to assure his long time bandmate.

“Sorry, it’s just I want this party to be perfect for Caleb.”

“And it will Rog, you’re just overreacting. And as I’ve told you before darling there’s only room in this band for one hysterical queen.” Freddie said as he finished tacking the last of the streamers. “There, perfect!” he clapped his hands before stepping down the ladder.

“I honestly don’t get why we’re doing this. All this is is a distraction.” Paul’s voice piped in.  Roger glared at him to see the snake leaning against the stairway and he snapped at him.

“If you don’t like it here then I’ll happily call you a cab back to London.”

“As your day to day assistant I have to be here.”

“Then if you’re going to complain take it up outside with the cows because they can take your shit. And I better not see you smoking anywhere near Caleb when he gets here!”

“For once I agree with Rog, so what’s it going to be Prenter?” asked Deacy.  Paul knowing he couldn’t truly speak his mind, especially when Freddie was in the room he said.

“Just don’t make them stay long. Do the party for one day then kick them out.”

“They’re going to stay here as long as they want. Besides it’s been forever since I’ve seen the little tike. Why should you get to keep him all to yourself Roger?” Brian said.  Roger grinned and said.

“Because I am his father and I forbid you to see him. Plus I know about those guitar lessons you’ve been trying to sneak him behind my back May.”

“Just saying, he’d look much better with a guitar in hand. Because the next thing we need in this world is another Roger Taylor. And god help us all when that day comes.” It was then Roger threw a birthday horn at Brian’s head.

“Children please. We can all murder each other but then who would be left to decorate the home for Caleb?”

“You and me Fred. So please both of you kindly set you rivalry aside and get back to work.” Deacy said as he got to work decorating the cake.

As the night went on by around 11:30 the boys finally got the house all set up for a six year old’s birthday party.

“Well I think that’s everything.” Said Roger.

“It looks good.” Said Brian admiring their hard work.

“Of course it is Brian because I designed the theme. That darling little boy is going to love it.” Freddie said.

“We’ll see come morning. What time did (y/n) say she’d be here?” asked Deacy to Roger.

“She said she’s be getting on the road at about 2-3am so that way she’d be here by around 7 maybe 8am.”

“Alright well my darlings I think after all this, we deserve a good night’s rest. Because tomorrow is party time!” Freddie proclaimed.

“Just don’t get drunk like last year Fred.” Lectured Brian.

“Don’t worry I took out all the booze this time around.” Deacy said. And with that the four band members heading towards their rooms and got a good night’s rest because tomorrow they knew they were in for a wild ride.

By dawn at the rooster’s crow, Roger groaned and placed his pillow over his face trying to block out the sound of the crowing. But then he also heard the sound of a car pulling up along the gravel driveway.

At first he thought nothing of it, that was until he remembered what day it was.

“Caleb. Birthday. Today! SHIT!!!” He quickly raced towards the window and saw (y/n)’s car pulling up and heard the engine shut off. “Fuck!” he quickly got dressed and of course in such a rush, he tripped a few times getting his pants on before banging along the walls trying to wake up Freddie and Brian. “WAKE UP YOU LOT THEY’RE HERE!!”

He raced out only to see that he wouldn’t be the first one to greet them.  Ever the early rise he was, Deacy and (y/n) separated from their hug and they turned to look towards Roger.

“Well finally decided to wake up eh?” Deacy mocked.

“You…..I’ll deal with you later.” He sneered.

“Please Roger, no fighting with your rhythmic partner. Especially with the birthday boy present.” (y/n) said as she walked up to him and cooled his hot-headedness with a peck to the lips.

“Where is he?”

“Still asleep in the back. Little man slept through the entire ride over here. It hurt me to wake him up so early so that we could get on the road early enough to beat the London summer traffic.”

“Well it’ll all be worth it. I think he’s gonna love what we did for him inside.”

“And there she is! (Y/n) darling.” They turned to see Freddie and Brian standing along the porch.  Freddie in his nightly kimono they got from Japan and Brian in a simple tank top and some shorts.

“Freddie, Brian. So sorry to have you guys wake up so early. Especially you Bri, I know how terrible you are in the mornings.”

“This is the one day of the year I’ll be okay with getting up at the crack of dawn. Need any help unloading anything?”

“Yes, I’ve got some of the remaining presents as well as some party games. If you lot could help me…..”

“Oh darling don’t be ridiculous, you will not be lifting a finger. You’ve already sacrificed some sleep just to get here, let us handle the unpacking while you and Roger handle the birthday boy.” Freddie said as he came up to (y/n) and placed both his hands on her shoulders.

“But—”

“He’s right love. The guys can handle the stuff.” Roger assured her.  With the famed baby blue puppy dog eyes, she knew she couldn’t say no.

“Alright then you two. Come help me out then.” Deacy said as he unlocked (y/n)’s trunk and grabbed a few of the presents. Freddie grabbed the board games while Bri got the rest of the presents.  As she went to open up the back door of her car, she told the guys to be quiet and they did as the three of them rushed back into the house.

“Here stay out of sight for a bit till I get him to wake up. Want to make this a surprise, I never told him where we were going.” Roger grinned and hid behind the car and got down so that he’d stay out of sight.

She opened the door and stroked her son’s cheek as she softly called out.

“Caleb. Caleb love.” He stirred and rubbed his hands over his eyes as he groaned and began to wake up.

“Mummy?”

“Hey handsome boy, time to rub Mr. Sandman’s sand out of your eyes. We’ve arrived at our destination.” Once Caleb became a bit more aware of where they were now, he asked.

“Where are we mummy?”

“Well baby; since I knew you were pretty bummed about the guys missing your 6th birthday party due to them recording their album, I thought I might bring you to a very special place. And there’s someone special who wants to see you.” (y/n) turned towards Roger and he slowly came into the frame and he said.

“Someone mention me?”

“Daddy!” Caleb called out. He struggled to get out of his seatbelt.  Both Roger and (y/n) chuckled as (y/n) reached in to unbuckle him.

“Hold still sweetie, I know you’ve missed your daddy but you gotta stay still for a second.” Once she got him unbuckled, she moved out of the way and Caleb immediately flew into Roger’s arms.

Rog spun his boy around and playfully nuzzled him.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

“What? What?”

“Do you know what today is?”

“Hmm I don’t know is it…..Christmas?”

“No silly that’s still a long ways away. Although I wish it was Christmas.” Roger chuckled and he adjusted Caleb from his hip to around his waist.

“Okay is it……your first day of primary school?”

“Ewww no!”

“Then I don’t know, what is today bubs?”

“My birthday!”

“Your what?”

“My birthday!”

“It’s not your birthday.” Teased Roger.

“Yes it is.” Giggled Caleb.

“Oh really? Well if it’s your birthday then how old are you today?”

“Six years old, going on seven.”

“Six!? Wow that makes you a man now huh?” Caleb nodded enthusiastically while (y/n) playfully rolled her eyes.

“Please don’t make my baby boy think he’s too old for his mummy.”

“Oh never my love. No matter how old he gets, a boy will always need his mum, right champ?”

“Right! Love you mummy.”

“And I love you my little baby bear.” She cooed as she Eskimo kissed him while cupping his face and giving him multiple pecks all over his face.  He groaned and ewed at the wet kisses he was receiving till he finally buried his face into Roger’s neck.

“Alright squirt, let’s get you inside.” Roger then carried Caleb into the house while the birthday boy kept asking if he could play with the farm animals, Roger answered with a maybe.

The three of them entered the house which had all of the lights turned off.

“Why’s it so dark in here?” Caleb asked a bit fearfully as he clung onto Roger’s jeans.

“It’s alright bubs, I’ll turn on the lights for yah.” The second the lights came on; Freddie, Brian and Deacy popped out from their hiding spots throwing confetti everywhere, blowing on small birthday bugles proclaimed.

“SURPRISE!!” Caleb’s face went full on ecstatic as he raced up to his uncle Freddie first who happily picked him up and spun him around.

“Happy birthday you lovely darling!”

“I can’t believe you guys are really here.”

“Better believe it lad, happy birthday buddy.” Deacy said as he placed the birthday crown on top of Caleb’s head.

“A crown befitting a prince, don’t you think so Roger? (Y/n)?”

“Indeed Freddie, and a very cute prince at that.” (y/n) teased as she gently pinched her son’s cheek.

“Mum! Prince’s aren’t supposed to be called cute!” he whined out as he rubbed his cheek.

“Oh right sorry, I meant handsome.”

“Alright Caleb, what would you like to do first?” asked Deacy.

“Presents!” the boy exclaimed.

“Uhh sweetie, how about we hold off on presents for a little while.” (y/n) told her son.

“Oh come off it (y/n) dear. Caleb is such a good boy plus it’s his birthday. If he wants to open up presents first, then he shall open his presents.” Freddie said as he playfully jostled the boy in his arms making him laugh.

“Fred you’re going to spoil that boy.” Roger said.

“I’m his godfather I’m allowed to spoil him. Now let’s open some presents.”

“Yaaaaay!” cheered Caleb as Freddie took him over to the ‘birthday chair’ (which was just one of the chairs from the kitchen but had some paper folded on the two top ends to make them look like a throne).

“Okay my darling Caleb you’re gonna want to open mine first because it’s the best present ever.” Freddie said as he gave him a very large (and when I mean large, I mean large, it could’ve been as tall as Caleb was standing up).

“Freddie what did you get him?” asked (y/n).

“Spoilers darling, go on Caleb dear open it up.” Almost immediately, the six year old boy is ripping up the wrapping paper and opened up the box to reveal a large shark bag chair with open jaw and everything. Since he saw the film JAWS, Caleb had been obsessed with sharks so when Freddie saw this while touring in America, he thought only one person had to have it.

“Wow!”

“You like it dear?”

“I love it, thanks uncle Freddie this is the best gift ever!” Caleb hugged his godfather thanking him repeatedly.

“Alright Caleb why not open the rest of your presents just so that your uncles and daddy don’t feel left out hmm?” he nodded and proceeded to open the rest of his presents.

From Brian he got some space coloring books and a Lego space set.  Deacy got him some animal books and a new stuffed lion (he, Roger and Caleb considered themselves the lion coalition since they were all born under the Leo zodiac). Roger gave him some Hotwheels model cars as well as a new drum set that almost resembled the set that Roger uses on stage (Queen design included), and his mom gave him the typical mom gifts some new clothes (but she got clothes that she knew he’d like that would have sharks or monster trucks on them) as well as a new teddy bear.

After presents, Deacy brought in the cake and Freddie lit the candles.  Brian picked up the birthday boy and they all gathered around the kitchen and everyone began to sing happy birthday to him.  (Y/n) setting up the video camera began recording to keep the memory of this day forever in the years to come.

Caleb felt like the luckiest boy on earth because to him it wasn’t just his family that was singing to him, but when you can say your family is Queen, it makes you feel even more special.  After the song, he closed his eyes to make a wish before blowing out the candles.  Everyone clapped and cheered then Deacy began cutting the cake.

It was the typical family picture for a kid’s birthday party (minus all the screaming kids).  Caleb telling the guys some of the things he’s done since summer holiday started for him, the four men listening intently, smiling and laughing. Pictures were taken all thanks to Brian, and for the rest of the day it was game time.

From musical chairs, twister, scrabble (of course they let Caleb win a few rounds), to pin the tail on the donkey.  Caleb enjoyed playing each game because he liked playing with his family, especially his dad.

Later that night, Caleb was in the living room cuddled between his parents.  He held his stuffed lion close to him as he leaned against his daddy’s arm.

“Did you have a good birthday bubs?” asked Roger. Caleb hummed tiredly as he cuddled closer to him.

“Seems our birthday boy’s tired himself out.” Said (y/n).  She strokes her son’s cheek and she tells him, “Caleb, sweetie, would you like daddy and I to make you a bath before bedtime?” he nodded.  

“Alright pal, I’ll come down and get you once your mum and I get the bath ready. Don’t fall asleep till then okay?”

“I’ll try.” Caleb says tiredly as he rubs his eyes. The two adults chuckle softly and stand up before heading upstairs to prep his bath.

As Caleb stretches himself out and yawns he then hears a voice say.

“Seems you had a good birthday.” He turns around and soon coming into the living room was Paul Prenter.

“Mm-hmm, it was fun.”

“The lads and your mum sure did spoil you.”

“Yeah. I like it when they do.”

“You know I shouldn’t probably say this but I’m not sure you know what exactly Freddie and the boys do.”

“I know who they are. They’re Queen, the greatest rock band ever.”

“That they are. And their fame is only going to keep growing, especially after this album.”

“Uncle Freddie says he’s gonna let me listen to some of the songs tomorrow.”

“And what a lucky boy you must be. I mean might as well let you have one final moment with them before they’re too busy for you.” Caleb turned to the Irish man and asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well after this album takes off, it’ll be nothing but non-stop tours, album recordings, concerts, press interviews, Queen will be the highest band in the world. Even bigger than the Beatles. They won’t have time for family matters.”

“Huh? But they always have time for me.” It was then Paul sighed clearly showing his annoyed impatience as he continued.

“Alright for your own sake I’ll be blunt. They won’t have time to spend with you. In fact you’ll just be a distraction to their work. Especially Freddie. He is the leader of Queen after all and he can’t have his vision compromised by a child. John and Brian will just grow tired of having to watch over a child constantly when they should be focusing on their rifts. And Roger…..well he’s always gotten the girls’ attentions. Eventually he’ll find there are better more flexible girls that won’t have a child to tie him down.”

“But he’s my daddy! He’d never hurt me and mummy.” Paul grinned and chuckled icily.

“To be honest I don’t even know why he calls himself that. He was never your father to begin with. Your real father abandoned you the moment your mother had found out you were created. Roger’s fooling himself because he’s just like the one who abandoned you.”

Caleb looked down sadly and could feel a lump in his throat and start to feel the tears pooling into his eyes.

“Caleb?” soon coming down the stairs was Roger. The second he saw Paul kneeling down before his son, he got defensive. “What’s going on Prenter!?”

“Oh nothing Roger, just asking the little tike if he had a good birthday.” Then like nothing had happened, Paul ruffled the boy’s head before heading on out for a smoke break.  Roger eyed Paul skeptically knowing that something must’ve been up, but he set it aside and knelt down in front of Caleb.

“Your bath’s ready bud, you ready?”

“Can—can mummy bathe me tonight instead?” Caleb asked. Roger was surprised to hear that because bath time was usually their thing (in Caleb’s words, Roger was more fun during bath time when it came to battleship wars)

“Uhh sure. I’m—sure she wouldn’t mind.” Without another word, Caleb raced upstairs.  As (y/n) was coming out of the bathroom, she felt something tackle her almost making her lose her balance.  She looked down to see her son and she said.

“Caleb, what’s the matter love?” He spoke not a word but she did hear a sniffle and soft sob coming out of him.  She knelt down and hugged her son and rubbed her back. At that moment, Roger came up the stairs and just stood there horrified to see his son crying.

(Y/n) shrugged in a ‘I don’t know what’s wrong’ manner but kept hugging and comforting her son.

After bath time thanks to Freddie, Caleb was allowed to sleep in his room while Fred took the couch.  (Y/n) tucked her son in and kissed his cheek.

“Goodnight my sweet prince.”

“Night, night mummy.” He said.  She stood up and replacing her was Roger.

“Sweet dreams monkey.” He leaned down to kiss Caleb on the opposite cheek but to his surprise, Caleb turned away refusing his daddy’s kiss.  Heartbroken but still wanting to show his son some affection, Roger kissed the boy’s temple and patted his arm before standing up.

The two bid the boy goodnight before turning off the light and shut the door.  As the two of them prepared for bed Roger asked.

“Did he say why he was so upset?”

“No. Why did something happen downstairs when you went to get him?”

“I mean I saw Paul kneeling in front of him, if he said anything to him I’ll throw him out the bloody window of the recording studio as soon as we get home.”

“You do realize you guys have the 24th floor of that studio right.”

“So?”

“Roger, I love you but I’d rather not date a convicted criminal.”

“Hey I’d become a criminal if it means protecting you and my son.”

“I know you would love. Let’s—just let him sleep and maybe he’ll come around tomorrow.” She kissed his lips and the two of them cuddled together for the night.

However the next morning Caleb shook his mum awake asking her if they could go home.  Roger and her asked why he wanted to leave so early when they could’ve stayed a couple of weeks there, but the boy refused to answer.  He just clung to his mum and asked if they could go home.

Giving into her son’s request, she packed up the presents and loaded the car up ready to head back to their home in London.  

But when the four boys of Queen went to say goodbye to their number one fan, he hid behind his mum’s legs and clung onto her like a koala.  He refused to make eye contact with them as he got into the backseat and hid under the window.

“What’s wrong with Caleb?” asked Brian.

“I don’t know.” Answered (y/n) solemnly.

“Roger what did you do?” demanded Freddie.

“Me?! I did—”

“Don’t go blaming him Fred, he wouldn’t talk to us last night. But—maybe I’ll get him to talk once we get home. I’ll let you four know when we get there.”

“Okay, drive safe love. And do you—mind if you check in on Veronica for me?” asked Deacy.

“No problem Deacy. I am you guys mid-wife after all. I’ll check on her and see how she and the future little Deacy duckling is doing.” (y/n) hugged all the boys goodbye before leaving Roger for last.

The two lovers embraced each other and Roger whispered to her.

“Please give my love to him okay?”

“I will Rog I promise. You keep making songs and don’t lock yourself in a  cupboard again.”

“No promises love.” She rolled her eyes before kissing Roger softly while cupping his face.  They eventually separated as (y/n) got in the driver’s seat and turned on the engine before finally pulling out of the farm and headed back into the city.

It was Christmas time and the boys were prepping for their live Christmas Eve show at the Hammersmith Odeon to help promote the success for “A night at the opera”.  (Y/n) was getting ready to head over to the theater because afterwards she and the guys were gonna come to the house for a little Christmas gift exchange.

“Caleb love, are you sure you don’t wanna go see the show live?” (y/n) asked her son.  She’s been noticing how lately Caleb hasn’t wanted anything to do with Roger or the guys lately and she was starting to get worried.

“I’m sure mummy. I’ll just watch it on TV.”

“Okay honey, if you’re sure.” He nodded solemnly as he fiddled with his new Star Wars X-wing he got from Deacy as a pre-Christmas gift.  After putting on the last of her makeup, the doorbell rang and (y/n) went over to the door and opened it up to reveal her best friend since childhood Dani.

“Hey girl!” she proclaimed in an ‘I’m here’ fashion.

“Hey Dani, thank you so much for babysitting at the last minute.”

“No worries girl, I love that kid to death, he is my godson after all. Where is the little cutie?”

“He’s in the living room playing.” Sensing her best friend’s worry, Dani asked.

“You okay?”

“Honestly I’m worried about Caleb.”

“What’s going on?”

“Ever since his birthday he’s been acting a little strange lately. Anything having to do with Roger or the guys he’s—he’s been ignoring them or not wanting to have anything to do with them.”

“What? Really?” she exclaimed softly in shock. (Y/n) nodded.

“He won’t talk to me about it and I’m getting worried. What if he’s—”

“Hey, hey, hey don’t think about that right now. I’ll try and get him to watch their live broadcast and see if I can get anything out of him. After all when it comes to the really juicy stuff that gets to him, he’s always told me.”

“What exactly has he told you?”

“I’m sworn under oath to never tell mummy.”

“I’ll deal with you later, but right now I better get out of here if I want to get to the Hammersmith on time.” The two women hugged each other and (y/n) went over to hug and kiss her son goodbye before finally heading out to meet with the boys at the Hammersmith Odeon.

At the theater; the boys had gotten fully dressed and were about to start the live broadcast.  When they heard a knock at their dressing room, Deacy went up and opened it to reveal (y/n).

“Hello (y/n).” he said.

“Hey Deacy, I just came back to wish you guys good luck.”

“Hello my love.” Roger came up and the two of them kissed. “Where’s Caleb?”

“He—”

“He didn’t come did he.” Roger said more as a statement than a question.

“I’m sorry love.”

“Is…..it something I did?”

“Honestly Rog, I don’t know. He won’t tell me.” He sighed and leaned his forehead against hers.

“You don’t think he hates me, do you?”

“No that can’t be it. He’s always loved you Rog. I wouldn’t worry about it now, you’ve got to focus on the show.”

“I know. But I just wish my little bud was here. It—really hasn’t been the same since his birthday.”

“We’ll figure it out soon my love.” She kissed Roger comfortingly and that’s when the producer came in and said.

“Queen, time to get on stage.” The couple separated from each other but took each other’s hands and the five of them walked towards the stage.

“I’ll be watching from right here cheering you four on.” Said (y/n) with a smile.

“We know you will darling. Hope the little darling is watching from home. I’m dedicating his favorite to him.” Freddie said. After Bob Harris gave the introduction, the boys raced on stage and performed their hearts out.

After the show, the boys and (y/n) arrived back at her place and there they saw Dani holding a sleeping Caleb on her lap.  Dani looked and she smiled at the five of them.

“How was he?” whispered (y/n).

“He was an angel as always.”

“Did he watch the concert?” asked Brian.  At that question, Dani looked down solemnly.

“I turned it on but he didn’t really pay attention. I tried to get him to talk to me but he wouldn’t tell me what’s going on.”

“You? His most trusted secret keeper?” asked Freddie bewildered.

“Yeah.” She said as she stroked his head softly. (Y/n) knelt down and gently picked her son up.

“Can I take him to bed?” asked Roger.  His eyes filled desperate to hold his little boy again.  Complying and fearfully thinking this maybe the only time he’d get to hold her son, she handed Caleb over to Roger.

He held him against his shoulder and took him upstairs to his room.  Roger set Caleb down and tucked him in, he reached over and tucked the teddy bear the two of them won at the Autumn carnival last year.  He stroked the little boy’s cheek with his thumb and whispered.

“I love you buddy. Merry Christmas.” He leaned down and kissed the boy’s forehead before sitting up and left his room.  He came back down the stairs and (y/n) said.

“He still asleep?”

“Little guy didn’t even stir. That’s—the first time I’ve ever got to hold him since his birthday.”

“I know Rog.” She cooed as she hugged him and stroked through his long hair.

“Can we place our gifts for Caleb under the tree?” asked Brian.  She nodded and the guys placed their Christmas gifts for Caleb under the tree, as well as the gifts they were gonna exchange to each other in the morning.

“I think I’m gonna hit the sack. We can start the gift exchange first thing in the morning.” Deacy said.

“Oh yeah cause you and Veronica are planning to go to her parent’s for dinner aren’t you?” (y/n) said as Deacy nodded. “That sounds good, we won’t keep you long Deacy. In fact I think you all deserve some rest after the show you all performed tonight.”

“You said it darling, 14 songs, four encores. I’m bloody exhausted.” Freddie said as he sighed heavily.

“Yeah. Goodnight you guys.” Said Brian.

“Night.” Soon everyone went to their guest rooms while Roger and (y/n) went into her room.  As Roger collapsed onto her bed, she got on her night dress and crawled up towards him and cuddled up into his chest.  Roger wrapped his arms around her and he nuzzled into her hair and without another word the two of them fell asleep.

By morning, the sound of little feet pattered towards the master bedroom.  Caleb crawled up onto the bed and began shaking the figure underneath.

“Mummy! Mummy wake up wake up it’s Christmas! Wake up lazy mummy! Let’s go see what Santa brought!”

“Geez bud, you never cease using us as a bouncy castle do you.” At hearing the sound of a male voice instead of his mum’s, Caleb got off the figure and out popped out Roger.

“Sorry Roger.” Caleb said lowly as he couldn’t even look him in the eye.  Feeling his heart clench that his son still wouldn’t look at him, he said.

“There’s no need to be sorry buds. So shall we see what Father Christmas brought you this year?” he asked trying to lighten the mood.

“Maybe later, excuse me.” He then left the room without saying a word.  Roger tried to reach out for him but he knew it was pointless.  He sighed solemnly and put on an old t-shirt and grabbed his robe as he went downstairs.

“What was all that racket I heard upstairs?” asked Freddie.

“Caleb woke up thinking I was his mum. But then as soon as he saw it was me he barely spoke to me.”

“Oh Roger darling.” Freddie stood up and placed a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“He couldn’t even look at me Fred. What did I do to him?”

“I’m sure it’s not something you did intentionally, not like you always do.” At that statement Roger glared at him. “Right not helping. Have some breakfast and maybe head back on up and see what’s going on. Cause more importantly I hadn’t gotten my Caleb hugs from him at all since his birthday and I’ve missed those so much.”

“Glad to see my problem makes you feel more like the victim than I am.” Roger muttered.

“Breakfast is ready!” (y/n)’s voice called out. As the boys of Queen gathered around to make their plates, Brian was setting up the presents so that while they were eating, they could quickly do gifts before Deacy had to leave to meet up with Veronica, their son Robert to head on out to meet her family for Christmas.

“Okay so  I’ll be on the right side of the couch, Deacy you’ll be the left since it’s closer to the door, Freddie you’ll have the recliner, and Roger and (y/n) can take the loveseat.” Brian said.

“Sounds good to me.” Deacy stated as he came up towards his seat.

“Caleb come on down for breakfast love before it gets cold!” (y/n) called from the bottom step.

“I’ll be down soon mum!” he called out but she somehow knew that none of them would see him.

“Okay so….who wants to go first?” asked Freddie.

“I’ll go.” Roger said.  As he went through each gift which included a new set of drumsticks with his name engraved on them, some new tools to help work on his cars, the latest “The Who” record, and some boat/yacht magazines.  It was then he came across the last gift which was just a shoebox with a note that said.

To; Roger and the boys

From; Caleb

“Guys, this is from Caleb. And it’s to all of us.” Freddie, Bri and Deacy all came around him and Brian asked.

“Well what is it?”

“Open it Roger.”

“Alright, alright don’t get your knickers in a twist Fred.” He opened it up but the four of them were shocked to see what was inside.

“Are—are those…..” (y/n) started off.

“It’s all the little trinkets we’ve gotten him from our tours around the world.” Deacy said.  The boys looked at each other worriedly as Freddie took out the tiny cat statue he got Caleb in Japan just last year.  Deacy pulled out the snow globe of the Eiffel Tower that he got in Paris when he was 3 years old.

Brian took out the small spaceship he bought at a giftshop in Washington D.C. for his 4th birthday, and Roger pulled out the picture he had (y/n) take of them when Roger first bought him his first drumkit.  Shaking his head he placed it back and said.

“Okay that’s it.”

“Roger, Roger what are you—” (y/n) tried to stop him but of course when Roger sets his mind to something, there’s no stopping him. When he finally reached Caleb’s room, he walked right on in to see the six year old on his bed twiddling with his thumbs.

“Care to explain this Caleb?” he tried his best to not shout at the boy but his tone couldn’t help but come off as betrayed, angered and heartbroken.  “Caleb why are you giving us back all the stuff that we’ve given you throughout the years? In fact why have you been acting like we hate you?! You’ve avoided us for months, you can’t look us in the eye and you seem to not want to have anything to do with us anymore!”

Steadily Roger’s voice got angrier and angrier. But then just before he could blow off his top, he heard the sounds of Caleb sniffling.  He looked down to see the little boy trying to hold back his tears but they kept coming out in tiny drops, like a loose pipe dripping water in the sink.

Roger’s anger immediately deflated and all that he was filled with now was regret.

“Oh Caleb, ohh buddy I—I’m sorry I snapped at you. I’m so sorry, c’mere.” He picked the boy up and held him close as Caleb finally started letting out all the tears he’s kept in for five months. “Shhhh, shhh. I’m sorry buddy. I’m so sorry. I’m not mad at you, it’s okay, it’s okay shhh.”

“Y-you….can—gonna….leave…..”

“Caleb, pal I can’t understand you right now. You’re too upset to talk, take a few deep breaths with me, okay?” Caleb sniffled but nodded.  Roger set him back down on the bed and knelt down in front of the boy.  

He took his hands and helped guide him through some deep breathing exercises.

“In for three….one, two, three. Hold. Then out one, two, three, four, five. Good, again pal.” The two of them did the breathing technique together then once Caleb seemed to calm down, Roger softly smiled and tucked away the boy’s bangs away from his face. “You okay now?”

“Mm-hmm.” Caleb nodded softly.

“That’s good.” He gingerly wiped away the access tears that stuck to the boys face and said. “Do you wanna talk? I know something’s been bothering you for a while now. Tell me Caleb what is it?”

“I—I can’t tell you.”

“Why can’t you tell me?”

“Because……because…..cause you’ll hate me.” At hearing that, Roger’s heart broke.

“Caleb. You know that I could never, ever hate you. Nothing in this entire world could ever make me do that.”

“But this might.”

“You’ll never know unless you try. Remember when you said you’d never be able to ride a bike? Hmm? Or play the drums? And what did you do?”

“I learned it.”

“Exactly. We never know what will come unless we take the dive and do it. Or talk about it. So come on pal out with it. I’m not a mind reader like Professor X. I can’t look into your head and see what’s been bothering you.” For awhile Caleb remained silent and refused to look Roger in the eye just like before.

But somehow Roger was patient and waited until Caleb finally spoke up.

“Are…..are you…..” he trailed off before looking away.

“Am I what pal?” Roger said as he turned the boy’s head back to him by gently cupping his face.

“Are you gonna forget mummy and me?” Roger was horrified to hear those words come out of him.

“What? No. Absolutely not. What made you get an idea like that?”

“M….Mr. Prenter told me back at the farm that—after this album you, Uncle Freddie, Uncle Bri and Uncle Deacy were gonna be so famous that you’d forget about us. That more girls would come to you and that you would leave mummy for them. And that….you wouldn’t…..want to be my daddy no more when they did.”

Roger was now a field of mixed emotions inside. There was sorrow and heartbreak of Caleb having to think this for over five months, no wonder why he wouldn’t see him or the guys.  But there was also rage due to the fact that Paul Prenter, a grown man had the nerve to actually say things like that to a little boy.

“That son of a…..I know I keep saying but this time I mean it. I’ll throw him out the bloody window!”

At hearing the anger in Roger’s voice and seeing his blue eyes turn ice cold and murderous, Caleb whimpered and started trembling in fear.

“Oh no, no, no buddy, buddy it’s okay. It’s okay. I’m sorry I scared you. Come here.” Roger instantly reverted back to his calm state that he always used with Caleb and he immediately hugged the boy close to him.

He rubbed his back in soothing circles and rocked him back and forth trying to comfort him.

“I didn’t mean to scare you bubs, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, no it’s not. I vowed that I would never get angry around you.” He stroked Caleb’s head before planting a kiss on top of his head. “Listen Caleb. Forget everything that Paul said to you.”

“But…..”

“No buts, as your father I forbid you to mention him right now.”

“But he…..Mr. Prenter also said that you weren’t really my daddy. That my real daddy…..never wanted me.” Roger rubbed his son’s back and said.

“First of all Caleb, I want you to stop calling him Mr. Prenter. Mister is something you only use when someone respects you back. And Paul doesn’t deserve your respect.”

“Then what should I call him?”

“Whatever mean name you can come up with.” Caleb thought about it before saying.

“Poo-poo pee-pee!” Roger laughed and said.

“That’s perfect!” he playfully ruffled Caleb’s head messing up his inherited (h/c) from his mum.  “Now everything that poo-poo pee-pee said to you, is nothing but lies. I love your mother, and I love you. You both are my whole world, sure there have been women while I was on the road trying to get a hold of me but every time I denied them because I already had my best girl and best bud waiting at home for me. And that they are the loves of my life.”

“But when he—said that you weren’t my real father. Is….is that true?” At that question, Roger knew he had to word it carefully because at this point Caleb was still fragile and if he said that what Paul said about Roger not being his real father was true, the poor boy would have a breakdown and feel like he’s been living a lie.

“I can tell you this Caleb. The man who—was with your mum before me. He lost a great opportunity. And his loss was my gain. Because just like Queen, you and your mum are my family. Just like I hope that I’m a part of yours. Family doesn’t always end in blood, it’s the bond we share with each other. And the love we give each other throughout our lives. Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”

“Yes daddy.”

“Oh you have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to call me that again.” Roger said as he stroked Caleb’s cheek with his thumb and smiled down at him. “Can I get some lion cuddles and kisses?” Caleb nodded and cuddled close into Roger’s chest.  

He clung onto his shirt before raising his head to kiss Roger’s cheek.  Roger smiled and playfully devoured Caleb in wet kisses making him laugh and try to break free of Roger’s embrace.  Roger chuckled and said.

“Now this is what I wanted for Christmas.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Your hugs and kisses are worth more than any presents Father Christmas can give. I’ve been denied this gift for five months so you better pay me back with as many hugs and kisses you can give me. Deal?”

“Deal.” The two men shook on it.

“Now tell me; who do I love most in the whole wide world?”

“Me and mummy!”

“You got that right pal. I love you so much Caleb.”

“I love you too daddy.” He hugged his father and Roger rubbed his back. “I’m—sorry I hurt your feelings daddy.”

“Shhh, don’t think of it anymore. All is forgiven. So long as you take back your gift.”

“I will. Do—Uncle Freddie, Bri and Deacy forgive me?”

“I’m sure they do. Freddie has been going on nonstop of how he’s missed your hugs. Wanna go down and see them?” he nodded and Roger picked him up so that he hung around his waist and the two of them headed downstairs. “Look whose finally decided to come down.”

“Caleb darling!” Freddie exclaimed.  Roger set him down and Caleb immediately ran up to his uncle Freddie who picked him up and set him on his lap. “Ohh this is what I’ve waited for.”

“You happy now uncle Freddie?”

“Oh darling I am very happy.” As Roger came up to (y/n) she whispered.

“Everything okay now?”

“Yeah. I’ll tell you once he tires from playing with all his presents.” And with that the five adults watched as Caleb ripped open every single one of his presents and was all oooh and awe.

Roger finally got what he wanted and he was so happy to finally have his little buddy back on his side.  Because even though he wasn’t Caleb’s birth father, he still looked at that boy like he was his own son.  And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[wordsdrippinginink]

Hello, this is my first time doing a prompt and it feels like ordering at a drive-thru. Could you please write something with Marco trying to court Ace like a bird? I really like your work and enjoy anything you write. I hope you have a good day.

Ace tips his head to the side, studying the array of stones left at the door to his room, each one carefully polished and set to compliment both it and the ones next to it. Each one is sparkling and attention catching, some of them nothing more than Fool’s Gold and others sparkling Rubies with veins of something else creeping over the surface.

“Those look like a lot of money this time,” Deuce states, arching a brow at the stones and stepping over them into Ace’s room without a thought. “You got an admirer here?”

“Are stones something that you give to someone to tell them that you like them?” Ace asks curiously, picking up the stones carefully, tracing a thumb over the sharp edge of the ruby before setting it aside for the soft blue stone with golden webbing.

“Normally only when you want to marry them.”

Ace frowns, setting his new stones carefully onto his desk besides the others, “You give stones to someone to get married?”

“Sometimes I forget you grew up as a feral forest child and then you say something like that and it comes rushing back to me,” Deuce states shaking his head. “You make a ring and have a stone, something fancy or expensive, and use it to ask someone to marry you.”

“Why?”

“If I knew why people did things, I would be a historian instead of a pirate and a doctor.”

“They’re nice,” Ace says softly, running his thumb over the blue stone again. “Do you know what this one is?”

“Turquoise. My,” Deuce pauses, looking uncomfortable for a moment. “Ma used to have some, she liked the color. The shiny shit is gold. But I think you know that. Since you’re a pirate.”

“It’s pretty,” Ace says frowning at his friend as he trades it for the blue stone in his pocket. “This one?”

“Aquamarine, give me a challenge here, Ace.”

“Why am I getting them?”

Deuce barks out a laugh, collapsing onto Ace’s bed and pushing his mask up off his face to press the heels of his palms against his eyes, “If I knew that, I would be teasing you more. You’re the weirdo getting stones.”

“They’re nice,” Ace says defensively. “I, they’re a gift.”

He knows that Deuce has caught the inflection on the word when he sighs and rolls onto his side, silent for a long minute. The silence is loud enough that Ace’s ears are starting to ringing.

“You like gifts, don’t you?”

“I haven’t gotten many.”

Deuce sighs, forcing himself upright, “Alright, I’ll ask around. See if I can find out anything about stones and shit for you. Since I can be subtle, unlike you.”

“I’m subtle!”

“No you aren’t,” Deuce says grinning, even when Ace launches three of his Hotarubi across the space between them. “Ace, you know that it could mean anything.”

Ace nods and his chest aches, the Blues are vast and the customs even more so. The stones could be a gift or a curse or a warning. They might mean nothing or mean someone knows who his father is and plan to kill him, even if it sounds crazy. Ace doesn’t know what to think, but he hopes they’re gifts.

“You’re,” Deuce pauses, watching Ace for a moment, something unreadable in his expression. “We would still do anything for you, if you need us. Even if it means turning our backs on the Whitebeard Pirates. You still have us, no matter what.”

Ace watches the door close behind him and lets his shoulders fall, the lump in his throat heavy and painful as he tries to breathe through it.

---

“Here,” Deuce states three days later, looking more uncomfortable than the time he had been propositioned by a marine on Waters Seven. “It took a lot of work to find this out for you, so you best read this whole fucking thing.”

“This is a book on flightless sea birds,” Ace says slowly, recognizing the species on the cover. Gramps had said that they didn’t have enough meat on them to be satisfying and were too fast to be worth it. “Why do you even have this?”

“Because it will answer your stone questions,” Deuce says forcefully, refusing to meet Ace’s eye. “You have no idea what I did to get your answers and I feel like I’ve sold my soul, so you are going to read that cover to cover, with special focus on the stone thing.”

Ace frowns after him, even when the door to his room slams closed, before shrugging it off and opening it. It’s only the work of a few minutes to skim the book for what he wants, leaving him frowning at the mention of courtship and gifts, because he doesn’t know what that means. Courtship sounds like something nobles do or the romance novels that Makino didn’t keep in her house. But there’s no definition for it.

“You know,” Ace tells Kotatsu, frowning as he reads over the information again. “I think I’m more confused than I was before Deuce got me information.”

Kotatsu murrs, stretching over the bed to try and claim the whole thing for himself. Ace reaches over to scratch under his chin, trying to remember if there was a dictionary in the library that Thatch had shown him after he had joined the crew. He can’t remember and he’s not sure the definition won’t include words that he doesn’t know too. Just like the time that he had finally looked up some of the words that Sabo had used.

Ace takes a quick breath, clearing his mind before he can remember more, picking up the book and leaving his door open enough to let Kotatsu come and go as he pleased. Marco’s door is open, thankfully, so Ace doesn’t bother stopping to knock.

“Is something wrong,” Marco asks, looking at Ace over the tops of his glasses. There’s something in his eyes that makes Ace’s stomach feel too warm and cold in equal measures. “You look upset.”

“I found a word that I don’t know. Several words,” Ace admits, because Marco doesn’t treat Ace differently when he doesn’t know things. “Could you help me understand them?”

“I might need context for them.”

Ace nods, holding up his book, “They said that the birds used stones for courtship and mating. What does that mean?”

“For birds it means trying to attract a mate, to get another of their species interested in them.”

“Mating?”

“Sex or having children. Mate is similar to husband or wife.”

Ace frowns thoughtfully, “So they use stones to make other birds be attracted to them.”

“Birds all have rituals to convince, usually, females of their species to mate with them. Some dance or have bright colors, others give gifts.”

“Like stones.”

“Like stones.”

“This doesn’t really explain anything,” Ace mutters to himself. “Why would birds giving stones to other birds relate to someone giving them to me?”

Marco’s cheeks look red, like he’s gonna blush, “Perhaps they’re using the same method.”

“Oh,” Ace wrinkles his nose. “How do I respond? The penguins build nests with them, but I don’t think I can do that. And if I don’t know who to talk to about it, doesn’t that mean that I can’t answer?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out. I have a meeting with Pops, so I have to go, but if you need more help in a little while, I could come around?”

“No thanks. Thank you for the answers, Marco!”

---

“Marco is a bird sometimes,” Ace says two days later, watching Deuce to see what his reaction will be. He decides he’s right when Deuce spills the bottle of ink he was using. “So the stones are from him.”

“How are you this smart yet so stupid at the same time,” Deuce hisses over his ruined report. “This was about Pops’ health, couldn’t you have waited ten minutes?”

“No,” Ace answers, because he couldn’t have. The question has been there for days now, waiting for him to connect something and now he has his answer. “Marco is courting me. Like a penguin.”

Deuce sighs, leaving the report to ruin on his desk to face Ace, “Phoenix is weird. All zoan has habits and carry over from their animistic side but there’s never been much stated about the Phoenix Zoan, it’s mythical,” he pauses, looking for his words. “Izou mentioned it to me when I started probing for you. He had a funny story about Marco tripping over his own feet while dancing.”

“Marco likes me.”

“You like him.”

Ace doesn’t deny it, it wouldn’t work even if he tried. He does like Marco. Marco is nice and makes sure that Ace is comfortable with what happens around him. He isn’t opposed to the courtship, he thinks at least not when it’s Marco. He wouldn’t consider it if Deuce was giving him stones.

“What are you planning on doing?” Deuce asks when Ace says nothing.

“Penguins build nests with their stones,” Ace answers, standing up and rolling his shoulders as he stretches. “I’m not a penguin, but I think I can build something with them.”

“I don’t think you have to respond like a penguin would.”

“Marco started this.”

Ace doesn’t say that it feels wrong to respond to Marco’s attempts with just words, not when there’s a procedure to the courtship that Marco’s started. But he thinks that Deuce understands him anyway, if the look he’s given means anything.

“Should I wish you luck?”

“No, I don’t think I need it.”

Deuce laughs, loud enough to follow Ace out of the room that they had claimed for their work. It echoes in his ears as he opens the door to his room and carefully pulls out his stones, setting them onto the ground. Hopefully this wouldn’t fall apart on him.

---

Marco stares at the circle of stones, only three stacks high and just barely big enough for Ace to lay it, his knees pulled up to his chest as he sleeps. His mouth feels dry and the weight of the newest set of stones in his pocket weigh like lead in his pockets, but the sight of what can only loosely be called a nest makes his heart feel like it will beat out of his chest. 

It feels like hours before he moves into Ace’s room, pushing the door to, like it had been before he had knocked, kneeling down and setting the newest stones in a little line before the wall.

“Not gonna add ‘em?” Ace mutters sleepily, smiling when Marco looks up at him.

“That would be presumptuous of me.”

Ace snorts, yawning as he pushes himself upright, “Thought making them into a nest was an answer.”

“For a bird.”

“You started this like a bird,” he pauses, humming softly at something that Marco can’t see. “I like you.”

Marco swallows, “I like you too.”

“You could have just asked, ya know. Would have been easier.”

“I know.”

Ace nods, like he knows what Marco isn’t saying, “People don’t do courtship, what are we doing?”

“Dating, getting to know each other to know to see if we like each other enough to fall in love.”

“Dating,” Ace pulls a face, like the word is strange to him and perhaps it is. “Does this mean I can kiss you? I’ve been thinking about it, I would like to kiss you.”

“If you like.”

He doesn’t expect the way that Ace moves forward, kissing him. It’s too sudden and Marco’s lip is pushed into his teeth hard enough to cut through the skin, but he still laughs when Ace pulls back.

“Thank you for the stones, I really do like them.”

Marco laughs, leaning in for a second kiss carefully, “I’m glad.”

[mooksie01]

With Teammates Like These, Who Needs Friends? (5/5)

Chapter Summary: A post-mission lunch break leads to... more mockery.

Clover is going to fire every single one of his teammates.

Warnings: More bullying of teammates, mild spiciness, workplace banter of a less-than-respectful nature

AO3 Link: [X]

First Chapter: [X]

Notes: Hey everyone! Sorry for the slight delay in getting this chapter out, I spent the majority of yesterday moving back into my dorm room and the rest of it hanging out with my friends that I haven't seen in a month, so I didn't really have time to post. Hopefully this chapter makes up for it, though! I hope you all enjoy the last chapter in this first installment of the series! Subsequent installments will be posted whenever I find time to write them, which may be sporadic now that classes have started back up again. 

Please like, reblog, and comment if you're able!!!! You guys have all been so amazing throughout this journey and I could not appreciate you more!

---

Clover is ambushed the moment he steps foot into the mess hall after the mission debrief. This time, he is fully prepared for Elm’s attack, and he ducks under her attempt at wrapping one of her well-muscled arms around his neck. 

“Aw, come on, captain! I was only going to mess up your hair a little!” Elm cries exuberantly, apparently elated at this turn of events. She is always excited when Clover plays along with her roughhousing. 

“Sorry, Elm,” Clover says, getting in line for some of whatever they’re serving today. He’d cook if he weren’t so wiped from the mission, but he supposes that he’ll have to settle for food from the canteen just this once. “I’m afraid that I’d like to keep my hair as it is for right now.”

He accepts a tray of some sort of hearty stew and a chunk of bread, pleased. He’d personally signed off on the directive to encourage the kitchen staff to serve more hot meals, and he’s glad to see that the order is being followed. The lower-ranking soldiers certainly deserve it. 

Elm laughs, boxing him on the shoulder with so much force that, had he not been ready for it, Clover likely would’ve dropped his newly-acquired food. “Why, captain!” she shouts as they head in the direction of the table where the rest of the Ace Ops are sitting, “Are you trying to look nice for someone? Has some little birdie caught your eye?” 

Clover rolls his eyes as they settle next to each other on one of the benches. Across from them, Vine speaks, “I believe Huntsman Branwen has captured the captain’s attention, Elm. I was under the impression that you already knew this.” 

“And I,” Clover cuts Elm off before she can say something stupid that will stack more disciplinary action on top of her ever-growing pile, “was under the impression that my subordinates had a bit more tact and a lot more sense, but I suppose that I was wrong. Especially considering that stunt you pulled during the mission today, Elm.”

Harriet and Marrow exchange a long suffering look from where they sit beside Vine. Harriet leans an elbow on the table and props her chin in her palm, half-heartedly stirring around her stew with the other hand. “Are you guys really still talking about this? I already told you, I have no desire to poke into my coworkers' personal lives.” 

Elm powers on, disregarding Harriet’s words, “Aw, lighten up, captain! I feel like you should be celebrating! After all,” she winks with all the subtlety of a raging Megoliath, “you got to spend the whole mission today with your pretty bird, didn’t you? Not to mention whatever was going on in the hall this morning….” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. 

Clover sighs, “If you could please refrain from referring to Qrow as a ‘pretty bird’ or whatever else, I don’t think he’d be too happy if he heard you saying that.” 

Marrow perks up next to Harriet, “Qrow?”

“Ha!” Elm slams her fists down onto the table, rattling everyone’s dishes. “Seems like someone is on a first-name-basis!” 

Is it too late to take his food back to his quarters? Probably. That would likely be an admission of guilt in his teammates’ eyes. Instead, Clover raises his chin in challenge, narrowing his eyes at Elm. “I’ll have you know that Qrow requested that we all call him by his first name. I simply have enough respect for him to abide by that.” He may have resolved to get closer to the other man, but he doesn’t need his teammates to know that right away. That will just lead them to start harassing Qrow. 

“Seems like you’re doing a little more than ‘respecting’ him, Clover,” Marrow states, tail wagging behind him. 

Clover scowls at him, feeling betrayed, “What ever happened to not acting like kids, Marrow?” 

Marrow shrugs, leaning precariously into the open space where the back of the table’s bench would be, if it had one. He crosses his arms casually behind his head and closes his eyes. “Hey, the way I see it, if everyone’s dog-piling onto you instead of me, for once? That’s a good thing. Besides,” he sighs, “that was before I knew that you had an actual, real crush on the dude. I thought you just wanted to bone him.” 

At this, Clover swears that he can actually feel a few circuits in his brain all frying at once. He resolutely ignores any thoughts of “boning” Qrow, as well as the incessant laughter coming from Elm and Vine’s (faux-?)confused inquiries as to what exactly “bone” is a euphemism for, instead choosing to focus on Marrow, who is still lounging across from him. 

He snarls at the faunus, “Marrow. Need I remind you that I am your commanding officer and that I am more than willing to issue disciplinary if I feel it’s necessary? And that is incredibly disrespectful to Qrow, as well as myself.” 

Marrow straightens immediately and crosses his arms in a pout, “Aw, come on, Clover, I was just kidding. You did the same thing to me a few months ago when I was into that rabbit girl from Menagerie.”

That… was fair. But still, Qrow would probably be all kinds of upset and embarrassed if he heard that the people who were supposed to be his teammates for the foreseeable future were all making inappropriate jokes about him. 

Harriet groans loudly, dropping her head into her hands, “Can we please stop talking about this? The guy probably isn’t even gay.” 

Clover’s heart skips a beat. A strange sense of something that feels very much like panic floods his veins. “Really, you don’t think so?” He leans toward Harriet, aware that something weird is probably going on with his face, but unable to find it within himself to care.

Harriet backs away as much as she is able to while staying seated on the bench. “Uh.”

“I’d imagine that it would be simple enough to ask General Ironwood whether Huntsman Branwen is interested in acquiring a same-sex partner or not,” Vine folds his arms placidly onto the table, gaze contemplative, “considering their apparent long history. We may even be able to present our inquiries to some of the children that Huntsman Branwen brought with him. It is my understanding that a Miss ‘Ruby’ and Miss ‘Yang’ are related to him in some way, if the intel Elm and I received from Miss Valkyrie, Mister Arc, and Mister Ren while wandering the mines today is correct.”

Clover’s brain takes a long second to catch up to all of that. Then it rewinds.

“Hold on!” He interjects with no small amount of alarm. “What do you mean by ‘we’?” 

Elm grins a little too widely. It’s extremely off-putting. “Isn’t it obvious?!” she yells. Loudly. 

Several heads turn in their direction.

“We’re going to help you get your man!”

---

More Notes: There we go! A return to the roots of this story, which was always meant to be the Ace Ops torturing poor Clover (but really, how bad can you feel for the guy who's currently in the process of snagging a date with Qrow?). I hope you all enjoyed and I love you guys so much!

THANK YOU FOR READING!

(That Clover/Qrow/Elm story will be going up in a couple of hours, too, by the way! I have a few errands to run first, but then it's full steam ahead!)

[birdiefw]

Tony Stark: Home

Summary: Losing your husband was the worst thing that happened to you, but you weren’t ready to let him go just yet.

Warnings: Depression, Stucky canon, implied brucenat, mentions of sex, fluff, Endgame changes/spoilers.

Word count: 1717

A/N: I refuse to accept what happened in Endgame so this is just me trying to cope and create a little imagine to help with my never-ending sadness. If you don’t like what I changed about Endgame (which really isn’t even that much), then please don’t read this; what I changed is also stated in the warnings. P.S. Bruce now chooses when he becomes the Hulk rather than having combined with the Hulk.

Sadness.

That was all you felt.

It was like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs when you saw your husband take his last breaths after sacrificing himself for the universe. You didn’t know if it was real at first, but when he failed to move despite your loud pleas and sobs that wrecked through your body, your heart tore into millions shreds and fell into the deepest pit of your stomach where you could no longer feel a thing. It took everything in your body to not completely crumble right then and there, but with strong arms pulling you up to your feet and into their tight embrace, you crumbled, letting out every emotion you felt through your flow of tears.

Tears of anger, grief, sadness, and every other emotion you felt tumbled down your face and soaked into the fabric of Steve Rogers suit as he held you tightly. You could hear his own sniffles, saddened with the loss of Tony, as was everyone else. The world would never be the same without Tony Stark, everyone knew that, but none of them would feel the pain of it as much you did.

No matter what anyone said or tried in an attempt to comfort you over your loss, it meant nothing. Tony’s funeral was a complete blur for you, faces mixing together and words never really registering in your mind. You heard them, but your mind was blank as was your heart without your husband by your side, whispering in your ear that everything would be alright. Everyone walked on eggshells around you, not wanting to make you even more upset or be at the wrath of your anger.

You felt terrible for not talking to anyone, but each time you tried, memories of Tony trying to speak to his final words to you popped up into your mind and made tears brew in your eyes. You didn’t know what was to come next for you, but alone at the compound where you were meant to be picking up some things, you found yourself wandering around aimlessly. It was something that you and Tony would do in your spare time and when no one else was around, sometimes using that to your advantage to have some fun in the many open spaces with the full risk of being seen or caught. However, you found yourself standing in Scott’s guest room, eyes suddenly locked on some Pym Particles that were placed on his messy dresser.

You hadn’t spoke to Scott much, but he did offer you his condolences and said if you ever needed anything to let him know. The same had been said by the Pym family, having caught you off guard with the known fact Hank Pym had never been the biggest fan of Tony, but you smiled to thank them nonetheless. You didn’t even mean to Scott’s in his room—you thought it was Bruce’s—but a small spark inside you told you it was meant to be.

Thankfully, the time machine was still around and in tact, Bruce having wanted to keep it to study it for a while. No one besides him paid much attention to it anymore, everyone else having began to move on with their lives and try to live the life Tony would’ve wanted them to. You, on the other hand, got an idea and found yourself stood in front of the time machine, that particles held in each of your hands, lips pursed and the idea swirling around in your mind.

After Steve returned the stones and came back to live his life with Bucky after he passed the mantle of Captain America to none other than Sam Wilson, they’d left the time machine alone. Bruce was taking some time to research the particles and how it reacted with the time machine, which made you believe that’s why Scott had more of it.

You knew you shouldn’t, but every fiber in your body ached to be with Tony, to see his smile, to hear his laugh, to feel his gentle touch run along your skin. His smile was your favorite thing in the world, and you craved to see it one last time.

Standing front of the machine, you sucked in a breath and turned it on. You were there when they all went off the first time, taking the infinity stones from the past and returning with them a minute later. You’d watched every move Bruce made, taking note of what he pressed and turned, happy that you’d paid so much attention to it at the time. You softly smiled to yourself, glancing to the suits that were thrown off to the side; no one planned on using them anytime soon. You quickly snatched two up and rushed up the platform, feeling the suit begin to form over Tony’s AC/DC shirt you were and jeans after you pressed the button, a little gasp leaving your lips when it was finished after you placed the other one in your pocket.

You sucked in a sharp breath, glancing down to the Pym Particles; you had four with you. One to go, and one to come back. The other two were incase you actually managed to convince Tony to come back with you, but you knew there was a chance he wouldn’t believe you, but still, you wanted them incase. You shook out your arms and legs, mentally preparing yourself for what you were about to attempt. There were many things that could go wrong, but the hope of seeing Tony again was enough to push you to do it.

“Y/N? Are you in here?” A voice called out. Your eyes widened and your head snapped to the side, shock appearing on your features when you saw Tony come into the room. The helmet of your suit slid down, revealing your face to him. He froze, your eyes flicking behind when you saw Bruce Banner.

Bruce offered you a sheepish smile. “Hey, uh, yeah, I guess I beat you to it.”

Your lips parted, looking back to Tony in utter shock. He looked so much different, but still the same somehow. He was a little younger, wearing the same shirt you had on, but yours was more worn and faded. Tears brewed in your eyes and you shakily stepped down from the platform, hand covering your mouth as Tony and Bruce approached you. Your gaze shifted back to Bruce, slightly lowering your hand and brows frurrowed. “But. .how? Why—?”

“I missed him, too,” Bruce said. “Besides, our world still needs him, but not as much as you. I’ll give you guys a few minutes.”

Your eyes softened and you sniffled, taking a small step towards Tony. You two had dated ever since he defeated Ivan Vanko and Justin Hammer, having gotten married a little after Peter Parker had managed to web himself into your lives. You’d yet to have any children of your own, always saying you would when the time was right, but things always got in the way of that all.

Your heart lurched and your hand reached out, hesitantly touching Tony’s face. You couldn’t believe how quiet he’s been, always the one to speak up first, but he hasn’t said a single thing. Your glassy eyes met his own and you sniffled when your hand touched his cheek, feeling him lean into your touch. “This is too good to be true,” you whispered, almost afraid this was somehow a trick being played on you by your own mond.

“Well, it is me. Many people feel that way when meeting me,” he said, causing you to chuckle at his cockiness. Tony sighed, taking your hand and linking your fingers together. “I’m still not entirely sure what happened, Green Giant over there wouldn’t give me all the details, but it took some time and he told me things that only I would know, and while I did have my doubts, I thought it would be nice to see the future, and of course, you.”

You let out a little laugh and playfully rolled your eyes. “Seriously? That’s why you came?”

Tony grinned innocently. “Maybe, maybe not. I didn’t really peg you to be one to ruin the past all for—”

Your face fell when his voice abruptly stopped, concern washing over your features. You opened your mouth to speak, but your eyes followed his gaze, noticing he was staring at your wedding ring that shined on your wedding finger. He slowly looked up to meet your gaze, a small smile working its way onto his lips. “You always did have the best taste,” you smirked.

Tony beamed, chuckling. “Yes, I did. But. . .what do you say we get married? I know we already were, but technically—”

“Tony, are you trying to propose to me with the ring your future self already bought?”

“Uh, maybe?”

“Oh my god! You’re such an idiot,” you laughed, pulling into you to give him a hug. You were still sniffling some, but joy was overtaking you.

“But I’m your idiot, right?”

“Of course.” You pulled away, a content sigh leaving your lips. You still couldn’t believe he was standing right in front of you. You allowed your eyes to take in every feature of him, your smile never once faltering. You finally had him back, and he had you. You grinned, biting your lip. “And, you know, we never actually got to have those kids we wanted. . .”

“Say no more—”

A throat cleared behind you, your eyes tripling in size at the sight of the woman. “I’m sorry, did I step on your moment?”

Your eyes isn’t alright shifted to Bruce. He innocently shrugged, grinning from ear to ear as Natasha Romanoff made her way into the room. “Did I forget to mention we brought Nat back, too?”

You laughed, shaking your head.

You finally had your family back.

Tony squeezed your hand, recapturing your attention. “About that family—”

You playfully rolled your eyes and moved forward without a second thought, connecting your lips in a passionate kiss. You hands pressed the sides of his head, one of his arms shaking around your waist the while the other firmly pressed against your back, pushing your chests’ together. You held him onto him tightly, promising to never let go of him and basking in the joy that Tony Stark, and Natasha Romanoff, we’re both home.

——

A/N: This is only like my second time writing something like this, but I hope you all enjoyed! If you’d like to see more, drop some requests in my inbox!! (:

[stareyedplanet]

Unbreakable Vow || 02

—CHAPTER TWO——✺

November, 1911

Hogwarts

“Oh, come on Marilyn, it wasn’t that bad. You make potions sound as if it’s the bane of your existence, when actually you ace the class with no trouble! Me on the other hand, if I fail, I won’t be allowed to help out in the Hospital Wing anymore!”

Calliope groaned, rubbing her hands over her face. She was ranting to her best friend, not that the occurrence was unusual. The two girls often found themselves raving or gossiping about one issue or the next.

“Don’t give me that, Calliope! Both of us know Madame Linn adores you! She’d never let you go, not without a fight!” Marilyn scoffed, blowing out a puff of air. “You know I want to be a world renown potioneer, Cals, which means I have to have top marks!”

“Fine, I relent! Just study for once in your life and maybe you’ll get top marks.” Calliope said with good natured amusement.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Marilyn sighed, shaking her head.

“What are you doing for Christmas next month?” Calliope broached the subject with ease, despite the tension it usually brought.

Marilyn wasn’t fond of discussing holidays, let alone one where she was forced to be in the same household as her mother and father. Their relationship was shaky. Her father wanted a boy, and her mother took her father’s word as gospel. It led to quite a few disagreements between the young teen and her parents, making the holiday’s tense.

“You know you can always come home with me. My mum loves seeing you!” Calliope said, trying to convince the black haired girl to accompany her for the holidays. “The snow is so much more fun with a friend.”

“You know I can’t, Cals, but thank you for the offer.” Marilyn frowned, looking to the ground.

Any trace of the once confident girl had vanished due to the unpleasant conversation. Guilt bubbled in Calliope’s chest, not having meant to spoil her friend’s mood.

“You’ll be late to helping Madame Linn, if you don’t hurry up and go change. You know how she is if you are late.” Marilyn shooed the girl off quickly.

Calliope frowned but nodded, knowing the girl was right. She waved goodbye before skipping her way to the Dungeons. Even as a student, Calliope still had a uniform she had to wear when in the Hospital Wing.

She tapped Helga Hufflepuff’s rhythm against the barrels, humming to the beats. She grinned when the door opened, still not used to seeing it open.

Calliope rushed up the stairs to her dorm, pleased to see her uniform neatly laid upon her bed by the house-elves. She quietly thanked them before quickly changing, knowing she was already running late.

The uniform was altered for her, but still looked similar to Madame Linn’s. It was a knee length, long sleeved grey dress. A white apron was over top of the dress, ruffles around the shoulders. She wore white cotton tights and black mary janes. Her hair was pulled back into a bun, wisps escaping around her face.

Without sparing her appearance another thought, Calliope gracefully sprinted out of the Common Room, attempting to not be late. The Hufflepuff dorms were not close to the Hospital Wing which made her trek there more time consuming in itself, but she wouldn’t trade it for the world. She had been given an unbelievable opportunity, one she would never take for granted.

It had started when she was a 1st year. Her mother had always aimed to help people, and was a healer of sorts. She cared for magical creatures rather than witches and wizards. It wasn’t a job that had much business, but Calliope’s mum had always had a big heart for animals. So naturally, Calliope adopted that goodnatured need to help people.

She had scraped her knee quite badly during Flying class and had been sent to the Hospital Wing. It seemed that day had been quite busy as Madame Linn was running around, somewhat frantic, to help all the students.

Calliope, not wanting to be a bother, sat on the bed and pulled out her wand, muttering a quick spell to ease her pain and then grabbing a specific paste like substance and spreading it over her knee before bandaging it. It was impressive work for a eleven-year-old, and even Madame Linn found herself surprised. After learning Calliope planned to pursue being a Healer, Madame Linn offered her a position in the Hospital Wing to learn, since she had such a knack for it.

The young Hufflepuff gratefully accepted, and the rest was history.

“Miss Patterson, you are late. What is to blame for this tardiness?” Madame Linn’s strict voice called to Calliope.

The girl in question smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry, Madame, simply running a little slow after Potions.” Calliope shrugged. “It won’t happen again.” “It best not. Today seems to be rather busy, what with all the first years attempting their more complicated transfiguration spells. Mostly splinches. Anything more complicated I will handle. Understood, Miss Patterson?” Madame Linn raised an eyebrow and stared the young girl down.

“Crystal clear, Madame. I’ll get started right away.”

Calliope typically handled the less serve cases, often bandaging cuts and scraps, as well as the odd splint for a fracture here and there.

While there was a charm to heal such injuries, Madame Linn often preferred to allow the body to naturally repair itself to a certain extent. There were no concrete studies on how the use of magic to aid in the healing of injuries effected the body longterm. With children so young, Madame Linn simply mixed the magic and natural healing.

Most of the students who found themselves in the Hospital Wing would rather be treated by Calliope though, despite Madame Linn’s extensive training. The young Hufflepuff simply had a better bedside manner, one with a more gentle approach. Some wondered if she were a Veela, always noting how quickly she gained the trust of those she treated. Her personality was intoxicating in a way, and those around her always found themselves opening up about what ailed them, regardless if they had previously spoken to her or not.

Alas, Calliope was no Veela, just a very warm presence. It was quite a useful character to possess when one wished to work a job that often had people clamming up about what had really caused the issue.

“Hello, I’m Calliope,” the blonde girl greeted, smiling at the first year who was sitting on the bed before her. The girl had tears streaming down her face, her lip jutted out in a pout. “Can you tell me your name?”

“J–Jasmine,” the girl cried. There was a gash in her arm and Calliope resisted the urge to tut at the injury.

“Jasmine, that’s a lovely name. Now, Jasmine, would you mind telling me what happened?” It was a question that always had to be asked. Every injury had to have a report filed, and every student had their own file. With how young the girl before Calliope was, it was no surprise that there was no previously existing file to her name.

It was only mid-term, so most of the first years still had no file of their own. It was the thing Calliope hated the most, having to fill out the dreadful reports of how various students had gotten hurt. She much preferred to practice her skills than to be forced to simply write using her knowledge of the subject.

Calliope patched up Jasmine easily, moving on to the next student after giving the girl a piece of chocolate. She noticed the candy calmed most students down, young and old. There was something about the sweet that generally just had a comforting effect.

The brunette saw two other first years with similar injuries to the first girl before a different type of case was sat before her.

It took only seconds for Calliope to realize the boy was quite shy. He refused to look up and meet her eye, his arm cradled to his chest.

She gave him a kind smile, approaching him gently, worried if she spoke to loudly or something of the sort, the already shy and frightened boy would shut down even more.

“Hello there, I’m Calliope, I’ll be helping you out today. Can you tell me your name?” Calliope asked, crouching down before the boy, trying to get him to see that she was only trying to help.

He looked to be older than her, but not by much. Perhaps only a year or two.

His lips remained sealed tightly, his eyes looking at everything but her.

“Well, if not your name, can you tell me what happened? Did someone do this to you?” She asked the boy.

Once again, he did not answer her. Calliope frowned slightly. She knew she would have to gain his trust enough for him to tell her what happened.

“I see you are in Hufflepuff,” she said lightly, standing up and sitting on the edge of the bed he was on. “I’m in Hufflepuff too, you know, even if I don’t currently look it. It’s a good house. You must be older than me, you look like you are. I’m a second year. Are you a third year?”

She was saying many words, but her tone of voice was so inviting, so calm and warm, that the boy nodded, agreeing with her question, confirming one thing about him.

“Do you mind if I take a look at your arm? I’m not going to do anything I just am going to look for now.” She told him, once more giving him a gentle smile.

The other Hufflepuff slowly held out his arm to her, his sleeve pushed up to show two deep cuts running vertically up his arm. It took everything for the young brunette not to wince, her lips turning downward at the sight before her.

“Did an animal do this?” She asked, thinking of nothing else that could leave two cuts like that down his arm.

The boy looked up suddenly, startled. He frantically started shaking his head, leading Calliope to believe that was exactly what had left the marks. But why would he be trying to hide it?

“N-no!” It was the first time she had heard the boy say anything, and it startled her slightly with how sudden the outburst was.

“If not a creature then what?” She asked him, sterilizing her hands so that she could hold his arm.

“I-I’m very clumsy. I fell beside the Black Lake, it was a rock.” The boy explained in a rush.

Calliope was very skeptical, but for now she would appease him and go with it.

“Can you tell me your name now, then? It’s very important that you do, to make sure you have no allergies or anything of the sort.”

“N-Newt Scamander.” The boy replied so quietly she almost did not hear him.

“Well then Newt, it looks like a quick spell and some bandages is all you need. Are you okay if I do that or would you prefer Madame Linn take care of it?”

It was a question she had to ask every student. Would they prefer Madame Linn take care of them. While she was quite capable, some of the students were more skeptical about her taking care of them, rather than the fully trained healer.

“You can,” Newt told her, looking down at the ground, his shy demeanor returning.

While Newt was always shy, he found his demeanor wasn’t helped when he found the fellow Hufflepuff to be quite cute. While he never had really had any interest in girls, nor had any friends in general, he still often found himself thinking thoughts such as these, which only ended with him becoming more flustered.

She continued talking to him, making him as confortable as possible, wanting to learn what actually happened to him. However, he never told her more than he fell near the Black Lake, so she was left to put that down in his chart.

The girl did her job quickly, taking care of Newt’s injuries and gingerly wrapping them with cloth soaked in another healing agent, just to insure the cuts did not scar.

“Well then, Newt, that should be all. You’ll need to leave the cloth on for a day, and clean your cuts well when you take it off. Understood?”

“Yes,” he replied, his voice still quiet.

“Good, now off you pop. It was nice talking to you Newt, but maybe if we do it again we have the conversation in the Great Hall, not in the Hospital Wing.” she told him, a joking smile on her face.

The boy flushed slightly at the idea of talking to her again, despite not having done much talking on his part, but he nodded all the same.

Calliope watched him go with a smile and a wave before moving on. She did hope she saw him again.

[whumptasticwednesday]

Insult to Injury ft. Dadneto (Peter Maximoff - X-Men)

Author’s Note: Hey, ya’ll. I’ve been burning the midnight oil to get this fic out on time, AKA 2 consecutive nights of staying up till’ 3 am. I’ve had the idea for a Peter-centric Dadneto whump fic for a decent amount of time, and after receiving a lovely anonymous prompt, I decided to incorporate both my idea and theirs. Here we’ve got Peter after the events of Apocalypse, debilitated, and accidentally giving himself a nasty case of salmonella, before Erik comes to help. I’m pretty proud of this one, so I hope you enjoy it! This fic is unedited, sorry, so please let me know if there’s any glaring issues. For my next fic, I’m shifting away from X-Men for a hot sec so I can write a nice Detroit: Become Human whump fic with our favorite android son, Connor. I’ve been super excited about my plot concept, so I’m ecstatic to start writing it. Anyways, I hope you like this one, I worked very hard on it, and I hope you’re all excited for the DBH fic coming soon!

-Ash

Word Count: 6299

Warning: Emeto and decently graphic descriptions of physical illness

Setting: Post-Apocalypse/Pre-Dark Phoenix

If there's anything Peter Maximoff knew in this moment, it was that not being able to do the one thing your body was genetically enhanced to do, sucked. A lot.

It had been only a few days since the X-Mansion had been rebuilt and things all fell back into this synonymous routine as if the entire building hadn't exploded a short while ago. In Peter's opinion, it was all kind of creepy how easy it seemed for these kids to all just go back to learning when their home and school just got eviscerated in a hellfire, but he didn't think much of it.

All he could think about in this moment, was how immensely bored he was. Peter always had something going on with him; he was either thinking about his impending dad-related issues, plotting a prank, or deciding to go off and steal an entire Walmart's worth of Twinkies in the blink of an eye, there was always something.

Yet now, the rest of the X-Men were off with Charles helping cover up heat from the international press by cleaning up all the damage and destruction in Cairo and showing what Charles had dubbed: "diplomacy", which was too huge of a word for Peter to ever use in an everyday sentence; too many letters, and Peter was left back at the mansion since he really couldn't use his powers effectively at the moment, so it would be pretty useless for him to be tagging along.

Peter normally wouldn't have given a damn, maybe even excited at the prospect of being able to rig his friends' rooms with elaborate traps with Jello and staplers or something of the sorts while they weren't around, yet now, when faced with inescapable boredom that followed him wherever his broken leg did (everywhere), he was dying to have anything to do. As the team was suiting up to get on the jet to go back to Cairo, Peter had pathetically hobbled down to the X-Men bunker on his crutches, begging to be taken with. But they'd simply gassed up the plane and flew off, leaving Peter alone, and oh so very bored.

Which brings us to Peter now, attempting to create an omelette with 6 different cheeses, 8 different and poorly-diced peppers, a heaping assortment of minced tomatoes, and a sprinkling of those off-brand fruit snacks that are always better than the on-brand ones for some reason. It wouldn't be a Peter breakfast without some form of sweet, and in his eyes, it stuck to the healthy-ish theme. It had fruit in the name for a reason, didn't it?

The kid always had a massive appetite, and everyone that knew Peter knew this as well. You'd be hard pressed to find him without some snack or form of sustenance in his hand, scarfing it down like there was no tomorrow. It was all a byproduct of his enhanced metabolism. All that energy to run had to come from somewhere, didn't it? Little did he know, this super stomach of his would come to kick him in the ass in a few short hours. But for now, the silver-haired man child of a mutant was limping around the mansion's kitchen making a very... exotic breakfast for dinner meal.

Peter plopped the strange looking (decently gooey) excuse for an omelette into a large plate with some Twinkies and orange juice on the side. As he devoured his dinner, Peter thought anxiously about Erik. It had taken him 10 years to connect the dots, work up the courage, and even think of confronting the man to tell him of his true parentage, yet wimped out at the last minute, leaving the ambiguous: "I'm here for my family too." Peter groaned audibly to himself as his mind once again replayed the events he'd already replayed a million times before. It was embarrassing as all hell. Luckily, nobody that did know told Erik anything, which Peter was very grateful for.

Imagine learning about a woman you left 2 and a half decades ago actually birthing a son you had no idea existed and just now learned of... but not from him, despite several encounters beforehand where he had ample opportunities to do so. It'd make Peter feel like even more of a loser than a 27 year old who still lived in his mother's basement. But, to be fair, Peter was no longer a grown man living with his mom, he was a grown man living in a school where he was many years past the oldest enrolled student, while not teaching a single class; it was a step up from the basement, trust me.

Once finished with his omelette, Peter quickly washed his dishes and made his trek up the small flight of stairs to reach his room on the second floor. Over the past few days, Peter had learned just how high a set of stairs could be, especially when you end up falling down them on several attempts to slide down the handrail (and failing miserably while being laughed at by dozens of impressionable pre-teen children.) What a loser.

After reaching his room, particularly winded from this dinner excursion, Peter was grateful to see that he hadn't unplugged his television from the wall after his embarrassing fall in an attempt to get to the bathroom by himself, without his crutches, or the lights on. A simple recipe for disaster in nearly all circumstances, yet for some reason, the universe held pity for Peter and his debilitated state, and decided to not make his day any worse than it already was.

Peter ultimately decided to entertain himself with a good night-long play session of Pac-Man on his Atari 2600, also still miraculously undamaged from last night's fall. He booted up the inferior version of the game (seriously though, he'd have to get Kurt to help him teleport his arcade cabinet from his basement to the school, playing this one was getting a bit tiring on the eyes.) It sufficed, he thought as the TV harshly flashed on.

Now normally, Peter would have been up all night with his video games and rock music blaring in the background, yet tonight, something (besides his immobile leg) felt really off. Each distinct 'WOMP' from the console as the yellow circle man consumed the dashes and dots felt like a sledgehammer into Peter's eardrums, leaving a resonating ache at the base of his skull. He didn't think much of it and brushed it off, simply turning down his music a notch and backing away from the TV a few inches.

The next confusing sign that something wasn't quite right was the disconcerting shivers wracking his body. A chilly breeze seemed to sweep the room as if the AC was on full blast with the windows open on a November midnight, yet it was July and all the windows were closed and when he went to check if his AC unit was acting up, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. That's whack, Peter thought to himself as he plopped onto his bed, Atari abandoned on the rugged floor.

He didn't know how long he spent staring at the unmoving chandelier hanging lamely from the ceiling, but it felt as if seconds later, the room was not only freezing, but spinning, and suffocating. Everything felt way too close. Peter could feel every fiber of his shirt rubbing against his jacket, the itchy inside of his cast pressing up against the entirety of his right leg, and the presence of his goggles resting on his neck, now seeming like a noose closing in on his throat. He hastily tore off the eyewear and tossed them on his nightstand before deciding to shed his jacket and weakly throwing it across the room. Another move he regretted.

Without the jacket to keep his arms warm, the newfound seemingly frosty atmosphere felt like a icy flurry against his skin. In spite of his mind's confused wishes, Peter ripped the heavy blanket off the end of the bed and closed it around himself like a caterpillar ready to emerge as a butterfly the next time it saw the daylight. Peter sure as hell didn't feel like a caterpillar, but if the feeling of metamorphosis was a growing sense of intense nausea and cramping in the stomach, then hell yeah, he was crushing this butterfly business.

Fuck, what's wrong with me?! He thought to himself as he rolled onto his side. Peter rubbed at his eyes, hoping to clear the dizziness, yet only further irritating them. God damnit, he sighed internally as his face scrunched up in discomfort, releasing one of his hand's hold on the blanket to cradle his aching stomach.

"Is this karma for all that shit I stole when I was younger? That's just mean, man," Peter rasped to nobody in particular. He thought about it more though and responded to his own question, "Then again, I think that's pretty fair. Haha...Shit, man. Never thought I'd say this, but I think... I think I need help."

The sledgehammer-like headache was pounding with every bass drum beat lightly emanating from the sound system Peter hadn't turned off, another move he regretted. He couldn't decide if the pros outweighed the cons: hobbling through the dark to possibly remedy a source of his suffering, but relinquishing his hold on the only thing keeping him from feeling like freezing. Peter played it safe, much to his cranium's dismay.

Peter stared off towards the wall at nothing in particular as he tried oh so hard to draw his mind's focus from how terrible he felt to literally anything else. It wasn't working out so well. And so, Peter laid there, blanket tossed over himself, single leg drawn up to his chest, shivering like a leaf in a rainstorm, as nauseous as a toddler who just rode their first roller coaster, feeling like he was about to cry, and alone. What a miserable way to spend the night.

------

If there's anything Erik Lehnsherr knew in this moment, it was that he was beyond irritated that Charles wasn't at the mansion to run his own school. Despite leaving the school once he'd helped rebuild it to try and seek solitude to wrap his mind around his place in the world and everything that'd happened to him, Erik was back at the mansion once again. He was ready to lay down the foundations for his new mutant hideaway, Genosha, and needed Charles's connections to the government to help smooth over his charges and get clearance to have his isolated society where he might truly find happiness and solace. The universe had spoken, and he obviously wasn't cut out to be a nuclear family kind of guy.

Unbeknownst to him, Erik had once again meandered into a setting with his unrealized son. Also unbeknownst to him, that son was currently cooped up alone in his room, feeling like death.

Erik uncomfortably paced around the mansion, checking Charles's office, the X-Men bunker, and all the other places he might have been, yet the telepath was nowhere to be found. Erik sighed, he knew coming this late was a bargain, one, it turns out, he'd come to lose. The school itself was eerily quiet. It was if the entire mansion was empty or something. Peaceful, yet unsettling for a man who knew nothing but chaos.

Erik was about to borrow a book someone had abandoned in the foyer when he heard the muffled melodies of American rock music echoing from the upstairs floor. It must be that problematic Peter child, Erik thought to himself. From what he told himself was a civil duty to the rest of the sleeping kids in the school (but was actually his own way to cope with his curiosity) Erik decided to check up on the snarky young man to ask if he'd turn down the tunes.

As he approached the door, Erik was bracing himself for something extremely untamed. Perhaps a messy, greasy slophole of a living area, or maybe a drunk and uncontrollably obnoxious man dancing to his music in the nude. You never really knew with Peter, and Erik had come to expect the strangest out of the boy from the few genuine interactions they've had.

Erik gently tapped his knuckles against the door, waiting patiently for a 'come in', or something along the lines of those words, yet it never came. Raising a questioning yet not too surprised eyebrow, Erik knocked again, using slightly harder bangs, not wishing to make a ruckus and wake anyone else in the hallway up. Again, nothing. Although it could have simply boiled down to Peter not hearing him from his loud and abhorrent music, Erik was growing slightly irritated with the lack of a response. So with his last reserves of patience, he knocked one final time, once again listening for a signal or cue to enter. He was met with nothing yet again.

Wondering for the worst and fully expecting to meet a blackout drunk Peter when he opened the door, Erik tentatively jiggled the doorknob, which just so happened to be unlocked, and stepped inside. Thankfully, he was not met with a naked dancing or woefully drunk mutant speedster, but most would probably argue that what he was met with was quite worse. And that being a rancid stench of sick and sour nastiness lingering in the air, a poorly plopped pile of blankets draped over the culprit of the odor, and the culprit himself lying pale and flushed on the floor beside his bed, covered in his own vomit.

Erik's nose crinkled up from being met by the strongly nauseating smell of the room, reaching for the light switch on the wall to aid the sad little table lamp and glow of the TV in illuminating the room. Now he truly saw the pity-worthy situation for what it was. Peter laid in a heap on the ground next to his bed; he'd clearly trying to make it to the en suite bathroom just a few feet away. However, with his dizzy mind and immobile leg, he didn't make it very far and ended up expelling his dinner in a much less... dignified location (if you could consider a toilet bowl a very dignified location), that undignified location being all over his lap and onto his faded Pink Floyd t-shirt.

Not knowing how to really handle the situation, Erik called out a soft, "Peter?" hoping to elicit a response. Yet, just like at the door, he was met with nothing. As he approached the boy, thoughts of anxiety and panic circled through his mind. What would he say to him when he woke up? Would he be uncomfortable with Erik of all people coming to help? Would he be confused? Would he not care? He felt undeniably and inexplicably awkward. Erik shook the thoughts from his conscious as he knelt down to try and meet Peter's face.

"Peter?" he asked again. Erik tentatively reached over to tap the boy's face, which was contorted in a pinched expression of discomfort, marred further by the vomit drying in a trail down his chin.

Once Erik's hand made contact with Peter's cheek, he wanted to retract it. From the split second interaction, Erik had felt the clammy, sweaty, and scorching hot skin and was growing concerned. The slight physical prodding finally made Peter respond.

"Mom?" he asked groggily, voice cracking, "I'll put my dishes in the sink in a minute... I'm tired..."

Erik let out a harsh sigh, bending his neck in an attempt to make eye contact with the boy.

"Peter, I'm not you-" Erik was cut off.

"Yeah yeah... I'm not your maid. I know, Ma. Just... give me five."

"Peter." Erik stated bluntly yet with a hint of unease, unsure if Peter was delirious or just messing with him, "look at me, please."

Peter cracked open his eyes and blearily met Erik's stoic and collected face. He blinked a few times, slowly and deliberately, calculating who was kneeling in front of him, before letting out a weak and wheezy chuckle, "hey there, refrigerator ornament. Wassup?"

Erik rolled his eyes, responding with, "I came to ask you to turn down your atrocious music so you won't wake any of the other children who are trying to sleep. When I came in here, you were passed out on the floor. Would you like to explain to me what happened?"

"Nah... it isn't all too interesting"

"Peter, can you please act like an adult for 2 minutes? Please?"

"Oh man, the Nazi-hunting, president-killing, horseman of the Apocalypse is bustin' out the PLEASES. Look out, world, Lord of the Vacation Souvenirs has a new tactic... MANNERS!"

Peter burst out laughing at his own adolescent joke, ending in a wheezy struggle to catch his own breath. Erik couldn't tell if he was just screwing with him or genuinely needed help. This behavior seemed pretty normal for the immature mutant.

"Look, Peter, I really just need to know if you're okay. Can you answer that simple question, please?"

"Man, your tactics are workin' like a charm. I guess I'll tel-" Peter was cut off by a repulsing gag, hunching over and expelling his stomach's contents... again, this time, however, onto Erik's shirt, quickly travelling in a sad trail down onto his freshly-ironed pants. Peter's bloodshot eyes went side with embarrassment as he quickly transitioned his gaze to the floor.

Erik's face was caught frozen still as his mind caught up with what had just happened. As repulsed as he was, it wasn't like he hadn't seen worse. But that still didn't make the fact that he was just puked on any less disgusting. After audibly exhaling through his nose, Erik once again focused on the miserable man child in front of him, who was now anxiously tapping his fingernails on the hard plaster of his cast, deliberately trying to avoid eye contact.

God damnit, Peter, He thought to himself as he continued tapping, it's bad enough leaving him with a painfully ambiguous response during a battle to save all of humanity, ultimately ruining a perfectly good chance to fess up, but now look what you've done. You fucking threw up on him. Peter felt himself growing smaller as his subconscious shamed him for his uncontrollable bout of illness. It was stupid and ultimately all in his head, but it didn't make him feel any less shit about his situation.

After taking the few quiet seconds, Erik stood up, and whether it was out of pity or some subconscious moral quest, grabbed Peter by the armpits and dragged him to the bathroom.

"W-what the?" Peter asked, confused by the harsh white light of the bathroom and the sudden shift in scenery.

"Well I'm not going to let you sit in your own disgusting clothes. I have standards, you know. Can you undress yourself? I'll get us both some clean clothes."

Peter grunted in response. It meant: yeah, I think I can take off my own clothes, bro... once the room stops spinning. Erik, however, had already up and left, stripping off his own soiled shirt and rifling through Peter's dresser drawers, and taking the opportunity to flick off the television and silence the music that had been awkwardly filling the room's background space up until now.

Peter didn't have much variety in his clothing, dark jeans and band logo t-shirts were most of his dresser's arsenal. Not wishing to be clad in a Metallica shirt for the rest of the night, he dug a bit further into the seemingly endless assortment of shirts till he found a plain white short sleeve, sighing in relief. He grabbed a random shirt from the top of the assortment which just so happened to have the Journey logo on it, and set off to find new pants for the boy.

Back in the bathroom, Peter was still laying slumped against the bathtub, shivering. Everything around him had seemingly slowed to a halt, not unlike when he was running past the speed of sound, but this time deceleration just felt... wrong.

The crashing rhythm of the rock music had come to a halt, yet it didn't cease the incessant throbbing ache in his head, as if the bass riffs and the harsh taps of the snare were on a permanent loop with earbuds permanently glued to his ears. He was trying his best to prevent himself from groaning or whining as to not sound like even more of a child in front of Erik, but honestly, he didn't want his nonexistent father right now, he wanted his mom.

Peter was snapped from his self loathing by Erik's footfalls growing progressively louder as he approached him. Erik had thrown on a pair of track pants and a random white shirt. He was holding a pair of sweatpants and another shirt for Peter so he could be free of his sweat-slick and vomit-covered clothes.

"Hey, you don't get to keep those. I like those pants," Peter stated sarcastically, still trying to put up a front, although he was unsure why. He'd needed help, it was painfully obvious, so why was he still pushing his father away? Resentment? Anger? Pride? No... fear.

"Arms up," Erik instructed, preparing to take Peter's shirt off for him.

"Yo, you know I'm not a toddler, right? I can take off my own god damn shirt."

"You sure don't act like you're a day older than one, and I don't wanna risk you accidentally suffocating getting stuck in your own clothing so... arms up."

Peter sighed and did as he was told. Erik swiftly peeled the top off the boy and felt around his back, finding it clammy and warm. As if he'd just went from the tropics to Antarctica, the shirt leaving his skin exposed his skin to a whole new level of cold. The sensation ripped through his spine as his teeth started chattering. Hoping Erik had a brain underneath that skull, Peter was (im)patiently waiting for the man to save him from the frosty winds of his newly installed Arctic bathroom and slip the new shirt over him already. However, much to Peter's dismay, Erik turned on the tub's faucet, soaking a hand towel in cold water before leaning over and placing it on Peter's exposed back.

The second the frigid cloth made contact with his skin, Peter recoiled, back arching backwards, arms frantically bending to try and remove it. Erik sighed, slightly out of pity, and continued holding it down.

"Is this some cruel punishment? What did I do?" Peter pleaded, hoping to distract himself from crying by use of humor.

"You're scorching and sticky and it's just disgusting. I'm cooling you down, so relax," Erik explained. "It'll be a few more seconds, I just needed to get all the sweat off of you."

And as quickly as it had begun, the endeavor was over and Erik was threading Peter's strikingly pale and flimsy arms through the shirt holes. Peter audibly sighed, feeling like he'd just spent an hour in an industrial freezer and was now back into a normal temperature.

Erik's eyes drifted to Peter's legs, immediately noticing a flaw in his plan. How was he going to change Peter's pants with that full leg cast?

"Peter, how do you typically change your pants considering your current... situation?" Erik asked.

"It's pretty simple. I don't," Peter replied bluntly.

"W-what?"

"Well, after I got my leg set a few days ago, I changed into jeans, not wanting to be in flight suit pants for the next week of my life, and I haven't swapped since. It's like, physically impossible."

"So... you've been wearing the same (disgustingly dirty) pants all week?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Hank says I should be grateful that it'll heal in a couple days, most people you'd find passed out on their floor covered in vomit with a full leg cast would have been wearing their nasty pants for weeks."

Erik sighed, tossing Peter's soiled shirt and the sweatpants back into the bedroom before meeting his gaze.

"Alright, Peter, I'm going to set you up in bed now."

"Sounds grea-" Peter was once again, clamping his hand over his mouth, pathetically dragging himself over to the toilet to prevent throwing up all over himself again.

Erik saw his distress and lifted the toilet lid and seat, prompting Peter to start heaving into the sad and dreary porcelain bowl. Each dry or productive heave sent another pulsing wave of pain and violent nausea from his stomach to seemingly every conceivable inch of his body in a viscous cycle of suffering. Erik could do nothing but watch as the silver-haired boy wretched in agony, each heave causing his breath to hitch, caught in his throat, as another bout of sick rushed up past his lips, crashing into the toilet bowl.

Erik wanted to reach over and rub Peter's back or offer a semblance of physical comfort for the anguish he must have been feeling. He'd often do this for his daughter, Nina, whenever she had a stomach bug. Erik reached out his hand, only to quickly retract it, shaking haunting thoughts from his mind. This boy was not his child, and in no way would he ever come close to being Nina. What was he thinking?

Guilt quickly overtook the memories as Peter finished his session of sickness. He sagged limply against the side of the toilet, face still partially hidden by the rim of the bowl. When he looked up at Erik, he looked awful. Beyond awful.

Red-rimmed eyes, clearly there as Peter attempted to stop the obvious tears from spilling over, met cool yet collected ones, the former's being full of pain, not just from this embarrassment or the physical turmoil he'd just endured, but something else. Erik knew those eyes. He knew them because for so long, they were the ones he'd stared at in the mirror, day after day, for years, until he'd found Charles, only to come face to face again with those demonized eyes in the form of an immature mutant puking his guts out on his bathroom floor. They were the eyes of a young man who was lost, feeling alone, hiding a part of themselves they wanted to let go, to set free, so they could truly be happy, yet he couldn't possibly decipher what could be internally destroying the boy.

"I-I'm sorry you had to watch that..." Peter said softly as his head lolled over.

"It's fine," Erik replied with a tone to match that of Peter's.

"I'm pretty sure... that I'm done. For now?" It came out as more of a question, but at this point, Peter wasn't trusting any signal his body was sending him. Every impulse had been smudged and cloudy in his mind, and paired with the seemingly endless headache and the relentless chills racking his body from the fever, Peter was sure that if his mind were a computer hard drive, it would have self destructed out of a deadly virus slowly hacking into the hardware.

But alas, Peter was no computer, and so he was stuck with this mystery illness, cooped up in his room, unable to run, with Erik mother-hecking Lehnsherr. His fever-addled mind was barely functioning at this point, so he didn't register anything but dizzying blurred images swirling around his head and slightly-grumbled voice swimming in his ears as Erik scooped the kid up like a newlywed bride and carried him off to bed.

Peter had never been more grateful to grace the comfort of his duvet, ready to sleep. He halfheartedly grabbed at it in an attempt to cover himself and finally warm up. Erik sighed with pity, grabbing it for him and draping it over his shoulders before moving over to stand by the nightstand and awkwardly watching Peter try and get comfortable.

Despite the obvious fact that his body wanted him to sleep, Peter's mind was racing everywhere except the realm of unconsciousness. Every thought was emphasized ten-fold as it bounced around his head until the only things remaining were his want, heck, his need, to tell Erik the truth, and the hesitant and unsure anxiety lingering in the background of his subconscious that was stopping him from doing just that.

Fevers, though, as Peter was quickly learning, tended to do weird shit to what your brain was really trying to accomplish, often scrambling any message you tried to expel to the point where it may or may not have even been your true intentions. And hell, it was an even bigger gamble if you'd remember any of the dumb shit you'd done or said. It was as if the heat had boiled all the potentially embarrassing memories away, which was at least kinda nice.

With everything happening, Peter thought it best for Erik to just pack up and scoot from the premises, as not to accidentally say or do something stupid that might come back to bite him in the ass later, but Peter wasn't about to pull an asshole move on the man who'd just helped him despite not being obligated to at all.

So, instead of verbally asking, Peter did the next most "mature" thing he could have in his debilitated and helpless situation. He pretended to be asleep in a pathetic hope that Erik would leave on his own. He didn't. Peter ended up looking like he was trying way too hard to be asleep than any real asleep person, and after a few minutes, Erik caught on.

"Peter, I know you're not actually sleeping," Erik said, not putting on any sort of specific emotion.

Peter cracked one red and tired eye open, meeting Erik's gaze yet again. Peter sighed and turned over onto his side, back to the other man, bleary eyes trying to focus on anything that wasn't Erik. Sleep, a seemingly effortless task for most, eluded Peter as he let out an a low whine. This was miserable.

"Hey, Erik?"

"Yes?"

"I umm... never mind..."

"What were you going to say?"

"It's nothing... I just feel stupid since I can't even do the easiest thing on the planet."

"Is there anything I can do?"

The question struck Peter like a cold dagger to the heart, it sounded so much like something his mom would say, who was practically the only person he wanted in that moment. Peter didn't like to be weak or expose any of his fears. He preferred to be distant and reserved, to hide all that insecurity with stupid dry humor and sarcasm. His mom and his sisters were really the only ones who he'd truly been open with, and when faced with these new circumstances, finally able to reconnect with the father he never had, he was frozen in place, and after pushing people away and closing himself off for so long, not knowing what to do to reach out and truly face what he needed to.

Completely internally and externally overwhelmed, Peter let his dam of pride burst, letting his emotional flood pour out of his eyes in the form of earnest, choked sobs. He bit his lip and weakly rubbed at his eyes in an attempt to hide his distress.

Erik was taken aback, taking a step towards him, before backpedaling as fast as the initial paternal instinct had seized him. He didn't know what to do. Erik was conflicted, scared of overstepping boundaries, but wholeheartedly wanting to comfort the clearly suffering boy lying in bed in front of him.

And in a flash of instinct, an unspoken, deep-rooted, yet unknown draw towards the silver-haired boy, Erik sat down on the mattress, back meeting Peter's, and leaning over his shoulder to rub his back

Erik's hand was shaky, unsure if it should truly be there. He felt the heat radiating off Peter's skin through his t-shirt. Erik glanced down further to Peter's face, and despite the hands trying (and failing) to cover his eyes, saw it covered in a new sheen of sweat quickly mixing with his tears, pale and pasty with angry crimson patches sitting pretty as pictures on his cheeks and forehead. Everything in that moment accentuated both how awfully awkward Erik and truly terrible Peter felt.

Erik didn't even know if Peter was lucid anymore. He was breaking down into tears, shivering and being comforted by someone who was practically a stranger. Eventually, the sobs dwindled into whimpers and Erik's nerves were starting to taper off himself. The room fell into a weirdly calm silence as the two decided to not say anything. Until Peter's shaky voice cut through the room.

"Y-you know... when I was a dumb little kid, I thought I-I could outrun germs. Look at me now. I can't even cook a f-freakin' omelette without making myself sick... I never needed to cook for myself, it was always my mom, or Hostess cakes."

"..." Erik wanted to say something, anything, but he was unsure what, or if Peter would understand.

"I can't do anything right... life tosses me chances and I just fuck em' all up."

Erik soon realized Peter was no longer talking about his omelette, but something deeper.

"I just wish... you could've d-done this for me when I was still that dumb little kid. I wish for so much to be different. I'd always wanted a d-dad, and when I finally figured out who he was, I learn he'd gone off to kill the president! I-I don't know..."

"W-what?"

"I m-might not be able to outrun germs, but my entire l-life, I've outrun everything. The law, my responsibilities, adulthood... But now, the one time when I finally can't run from anything, out of all of my problems, I gotta face you of all things. N-not the way I thought this would happen..." Peter's words died out as he fell silent.

Erik wasn't sure he'd heard Peter properly. Until something in his mind clicked. Everything he's done up until now: "my mom once knew a guy who could do that..." and "I'm here for my family too..." Oh my god, he thought, I'm... I-I'm Peter's... father? Who else had he been with before his wife... Magda. Oh god.

Erik pulled his hand away from Peter's back. This caused Peter to moan and flip onto his back, staring directly at Erik, eyes cutting straight to his heart like knives.

"W-why'd you stop? It was nice..." Peter admitted shyly.

"I-I need a second, Peter. I'm sorry," Erik sighed as he pushed himself off the mattress.

Peter said nothing as his eyes drifted back to his bedspread. Disappointment lurking behind his bloodshot irises.

Erik walked off to the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a soft click. He stared up at himself in the mirror, hands gripped tightly around the basin. This couldn't be happening. Not after Nina, not again. Erik was just... terrified. Terrified of the idea of getting close again. Anyone who's ever been a part of Erik's family... had died. His parents, his wife, his daughter; he didn't want Peter to join the list of people the universe was just deemed to kill. He knew that Peter was far from dying, it was a simple fact that the kid couldn't cook and he'd fed himself something underdone. Yet, it was all happening, it was all too fast, and everything felt so damn scary.

He knew, deep down, that this was the truth. It only made sense that the Magda didn't wanna tell her son that his dad was an internationally targeted terrorist that's murdered dozens of people, and this kid had no reasons to lie about it. God... Erik didn't know how to feel, what he should do, but he did know that had a need to comfort Peter, who'd just confessed a secret he'd been hiding for who knows how long, and was now laying alone, probably feeling abandoned again, after pouring his heart out knowing full well it might be shot down.

Whether it was all intentional was yet to be seen. Again, fevers did weird shit.

Erik let out a low sigh and opened the door, finding Peter curled up on himself as best he could, softly whining, mumbling incoherently to himself. Erik stepped over and sat down on the bed again, the entire mattress dipping from his weight.

"I'm sorry, Peter. I am very happy you told me..." Erik was searching for the right words, "the truth."

" 'r welc'm" Peter mumbled as his puffy eyelids slid over his tired brown eyes.

"Is there anything you need me to do for you right now?"

"J'st... stay please. I-It's embarassin', I know, but I just... my mom used to do it..."

"Alright, Peter. I'm not gonna leave, so just try to sleep, okay?"

Peter didn't need to be told twice as his mind and body worked in harmony, finally allowing Peter to be lulled off to the realm of unconsciousness. And although he knew it wasn't necessary, Erik wished to add to the intimacy of this quiet moment, a type of moment so rare and inconstant in both of their lives, so he pushed himself up against the headboard, laying out flat on the bed, and carded his fingers into Peter's silky silver locks. And out of habit, maybe a sort of tendency he'd developed from doing it with Nina, or an obligation to share what he felt Peter deserved, he began to hum his family lullaby, ever so slowly and softly, drowning out any other thing the world wanted to toss at them. Because in that moment... Erik and Peter had found something they'd both been missing for so long, peacefulness and contentment. And for that short night, it was all they needed.