#I just wanna get some exercise to help with mobility and also to see if it helps my fatigue

[toudensremade]

I’ve been wanting to go to the gym again but then I remembered this is the busiest time of the year 😭

[dissociacrip]

telling medical professionals you want to be using some kind of aid (mobility aids, braces, etc.) on a part-time/contextual basis & their immediate response is "but ummmm de-conditioning" is the main reason i'm extremely reluctant to bring up to any of my doctors that i own a wheelchair, crutches, etc. which i don't use super often since i'm not usually out and about long enough to the point where i feel that i really need them

like, obviously there's going to be a risk of de-conditioning with full-time or very frequent use, sure, but it's almost like they automatically assume using the aid is the "easy" option (what a fucking joke that using crutches or a wheelchair is somehow "easy," it feels fantastic to not have to try to stand and walk when i get ataxic but it's not exactly a breeze) & surely we must be too lazy or unwilling to do anything like PT exercises or other physical activity to compensate for the time spent using the aid in question...it's almost like "exercise" is defined as physical activity you engage in for the express purpose of physical health, and not being forced to go through pain & fatigue or other averse symptoms in contexts where you can't fully dictate what you do with your own body & trying to do so leads to consequences (work, school, etc., biopolitics or whatever)

for example, my muscles aren't getting any stronger by forcing myself through pain at work or elsewhere because the way my body has adapted to distributing force over the years is a major part of the reason why they're weak, i was not given the PT or OT i needed as a child for my condition and that's what happens as a result; the wrong stress is being put on the wrong things & it's negatively impacting me in the now, having something to help in the short-term while working on things i can do to correct the issue in the long-term (like seeing a PT/OT - who actually understands my issues - or going to the gym) should be seen as "i want to be able be at work for even a meagre amount of income without feeling like i'm going to collapse and the pain/fatigue/etc. slowing me down to the point where i worry very often that i'm going to get fired," not like i just wanna take "the easy way out"

i'm just overall sick of this presumption that it's always us not doing enough or not knowing any better, that we can't possibly know what's actually good for us at the end of the day, instead of us trying to navigate our bodies and our lives to the best of our ability with whatever we have at our disposal

but also i don't really care that much if some theoretical person doesn't wanna do the long-term stuff either because that's not my business & i'm not interested in brushing up against doing healthism: mobility/medical aids edition, although i think what people online sometimes do where they recommend using mobility aids willy-nilly without directing the person in question to actual resources about said aids where they can learn how they work, what types their are, what they're best used for, etc. sucks because what i want is for people to be equipped with as much knowledge & guidance as they can to make what they inevitably decide are best decisions possible for their situation

[stitchthesewords]

Hi so I'm having a physically bad day and I wanna talk about it because I think this would be useful for writers and artists to know! Do not be alarmed, this is simply a Normal Part of my being disabled, I'm fine.

Before I get into it though: this post is only gonna represent my personal experiences with Good vs Bad days specifically regarding my Cerebral Palsy. All disabled people, and hell even abled people, experience good and bad days differently. I'm just kind of putting this out there as a good reference point for writing this sort of thing [And drawing it, I suppose - I'll trying to be descriptive]

So what do I mean by a physically bad day? Well - I'm doing great mentally. Quite happy in fact, working on my stories, but physically I've been in pain all day. It happens. I had a migraine earlier that caused me to go lay down and when I woke up my joints were locked up. Now, locked up means a lot of things to a lot of people. For me it means it was physically uncomfortable and even painful to move my joints, and some of them were so stiff I couldn't move them.

Also, I was stuck on my back like a turtle.

I try to keep my cane close to my bed for situations like this, just so I can sit up to massage the joints, but I didn't have it sitting nearby today. Instead I had to call someone to ask if they would help me get up and pop my joints and massage the stiffness out, which they did.

The next step in helping the stiffness was to take a hot shower, which I put off from a combination of forgetfulness and whenever I remembered, the bathroom was occupied. So, instead, I sat at my desk for a long time and found the stiffness had returned by the time I was ready to shower. What you have to understand is that the stiffness feels and sounds exactly like cracking a glowstick. Or your knuckles. But it's in your knees, your hips, your shoulders. I get it very bad on my right side since my cerebral palsy is worse on that side of my body.

Showering is another thing. I have to be careful, since falling down in the shower is a huge rick and I should PROBABLY use a shower chair if I'm honest but I'm stubborn about it and shower chairs are awkward to move into the bathroom and heavy so. Generally what I do when my joints are acting up is sit on my bathtub side and massage my joints under the running water before i fully stand inside the tub. Generally this is accompanied by a lot of popping noises - a combination of the stiffness loosening up and because my muscle's a looser my bones are sitting correctly again.

Now I'm just sat here taking a pain killer and generally keeping my joints warmer. In the winter, the cold causes my muscles to contract [in the summer the problem is dehydration] so I generally need to be pretty warm. Not like, hot, but I prefer my house be at like 70-72 and wear hoodies and long pants most of the time. I find that helps keep my muscles fairly limber.

All this to say that a bad physical day can range anywhere from a mild amount of pain all the way to being stuck in one position and can even vary throughout the day. Right now I'd say I have a pretty mild amount of pain, mostly in my neck, to the left og my back, and my ankles, whereas earlier by entire body was like a stretched out rubber band about to snap and felt like it to. I use a medicated joint pain balm to help relieve some of it now that I'm showered and I also try not to remain seated for too too long. The more movement I can get in once I've unstiffened things up the better. Water is also good for this! Hydration helps your muscles stay pliable. The sort of stuff I do to stretch out and exercise on a bad day is like what you get when you google 'exercises for seniors. - if you'd like to see what gentle exercise for mobility issues look like, or you need them yourself, i highly recommend Pahla B who has a ton of exercises I regularly use and recommend to my friends who also have mobility issues. In general, someone with mobility issues ESPECIALLY on bad days is going to look for movements that don't involve Jumping or getting down onto the floor, and slower walking around. I look for a lot of yoga and no intensity work outs. Its not about burning fat, its about moving things so I don't lock up again.

I'll probably also be a little stuff in small increments for the next few days and have some trouble getting up from seated or out of bed, but I'm pretty good about staying on top of keeping my body moving to keep it from getting too terribly stiff. Bad days that are Full Body Lock Up bad arent super common for me but stiffness overall is like a 75/25 chance so that is more easily managed....when I remember to do it.

[briarpatch-kids]

I'm sorry if this is dumb but how do you know when to get help? Like I've been noticing my physical health getting worse, at least it seems like it, and it's really painful and exhausting but I don't feel like it warrants an ER visit or anything (maybe a doctor's visit but I can't afford that) and tbf I've ridden out a lot of pain and shitty stuff to avoid going to the ER (it freaks me out and again I never feel like my pain warrants it no matter how bad I think it might feel) but I'm just so tired and work is so difficult and I'm not rly sure what to do. I just wanna figure out when to finally give in and try to get some help somehow bc it's so hard to tell where my breaking point should be

I'm SO sorry for not answering this right away, I think I was sick and meant to write something longer and didn't get to it in time. It's not dumb, it's a good question ESPECIALLY when you're poor and can't afford to go to the doctor for every little ache and pain.

Basically, if you've tried the usual lifestyle adjustments doctors recommend (trying to get a little exercise, changing how you eat, cutting back on activities to leave time for resting, etc) and things aren't helping or you're still exhausted, go into the doctor. It's best to call and ask for a primary care doctor and not to go to urgent care, for the reason of the appointment let them know you have fatigue and pain that lifestyle changes and over the counter medicines aren't doing enough for, that you're at your limit, and you need to figure out what's going on. I've heard anecdotally that "sliding scale" clinics are better at understanding that you already tried to handle this at home and won't tell you to do some lifestyle changes and see them in three weeks.

Try and notice what makes the pain and fatigue better or worse. If there's patterns like "exercise makes it worse" or "every time I try and get my shit together I have a massive health crash after a couple months" let them know. Telling the physical therapist that while he could see my muscles doing their thing in real time was what got doctors to FINALLY take me seriously. Tell them what lifestyle adjustments you've made and how they affected you so they don't just send you away with "change your lifestyle." (I keep saying this because I got that runaround for 3 years 🙃)

And finally, ask them what you can do to manage things while you wait to figure out what's going wrong. I got a lot of the bare bones medical care I managed to claw out of doctors while in diagnostic purgatory because I asked what we can do to make things more bearable in the mean time. (physical therapy, occupational therapy, mobility aids, mental health therapy because it's fucking stressful to be undiagnosed, that sort of thing.)

If you're lucky, it's something common and easily tested, a lot of people have stuff that's treatable or at least manageable like diabetes or anemia. If you're unlucky, you could end up diagnostic purgatory for years and doing things in the meantime will keep you going. There's also conditions that just don't go away and don't have many treatments other than symptom relief, like chronic fatigue, EDS, or the more unusual stuff like mitochondrial disease and myasthenia gravis. I highly recommend "hoping for the best and preparing for the worst" meaning it's totally fine to hope it's something like anemia and treated with regular medicine, but also don't be totally blindsided and shocked if you end up like me and take 7 years to get answers that are "you're really sick, here's how, but there's not much we can do! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ at least you're probably not dying in the near future!"

[ironmandeficiency]

laying low

pairing: fennec shand / reader

word count: 3019

summary: she didn’t want you to retire because you were the only one she trusts to have her six. you retired because you couldn’t let yourself fail and get her killed.

a/n: i want her to step on me but also i wanna be the one (1) person the stoic badass is soft for. also i’m posting from mobile again so ✨hooray✨

warnings: angry fennec, parting on maybe-bad terms, canon typical violence, being kidnapped, toro calican himself is a warning (undid his death for the sake of plot)

“is this really what you want? to sit here and let yourself rot?” fennec was bitter. you hated seeing her like this and nearly every muscle in your body ached as she spoke. the two of you worked together like a finely-tuned machine and she clearly thought that you retiring was a waste of potential. but when you slipped up and nearly cost fennec her life, you refused to endanger her with your presence. she was far too valuable to you and you would do anything, even retire in this skughole, if it meant keeping her safe.

after a speeder crash you endured during a fight against stormtroopers, it severely impacted your ability to fight. fennec knew that you wouldn’t be the same, but that didn’t bother her. there were only one or two more bounties picked up afterwards because you realized you had become a liability. fennec was having to cover your ass more often than not and even though she insisted that it wasn’t a problem, you had to do something different.

picking up a little slack would be miniscule if you were with her but you didn’t see it like she did. you had been her longest companion and the only one that she’d ever let see her weak. life came with trauma, and with trauma came nightmares — she remembers the first one she had early into your partnership, the way you held her close and anchored her to reality. from then on it was decided: you were it for her. not that she’d ever tell you, but it was true nonetheless.

you sighed at her words; the very same thoughts went through your head at the beginning of this plan but it was the only viable option for you. “it’s all i have left. maybe i can find some peace before hunters come looking for me.” you pour two mugs of caf, setting one on the table in font of an empty chair as an invitation for her to sit. she doesn’t.

the anger in the air around her nearly chokes you with its intensity, rising in the air like heavy plumes of smoke from a raging fire. you’re unsure what you can say to tame the blaze, if you even can at all. normally you would know the exact words to say to bring her down when she’s this upset, but now you were the root of the problem and there was nothing short of foregoing retirement that would make her happy.

fennec continues talking about the brave fighter she fought alongside turning into someone she didn’t know, how you’re showing your belly to the world like the damn tooka sunbathing in the windowsill. the venom she’s spitting doesn’t bother you. she’s angry and hurt, probably feeling abandoned by you and your decision to stay and make a home.

“if you ever need somewhere to lay low, i’ll always welcome you. we’re partners fennec, whether fighting side by side or not.” you wanted to give her that much. even if she wasn’t ready now, you would always welcome her into your new home, into your arms the way you’ve yearned to for years.

nothing is said to acknowledge your words. you didn’t think she would say anything anyway but it hurts regardless, another reminder that she doesn’t like this the same way you don’t. all she does before leaving you is grabbing the mug from the table and pouring its contents down the drain, letting the mug clatter in the sink once it’s empty.

maybe one day she could see that you were doing this for her. maybe one day, probably long away from now, she would walk into these doors with the weight of the galaxy being dropped on your doorstep. with a soft smile and open arms you would greet her and show her what it was like to live the quiet life.

for now, you would just have to settle for the warm embrace of the memories you shared, hoping that more could be made in your new little hut.

it’s been close to six months since you retired. you hadn’t seen or heard fennec since she walked out of your front door wearing her signature scowl. it still stung, after all this time, that after everything she wouldn’t even comm. you’d tried that the first couple weeks after she left but there was never a reply, only a dwindling hope and the worry of not knowing if she was okay.

that was one of the biggest benefits of traveling with fennec; you would never have to worry where she was because she was always right beside you. there was never a nagging worry that ate at you, no nightmares allowed to linger since her touch would ward them away. life without her was a new normal

there would be days where you would see something and want to tell her about it, throwing her name over your shoulder only to remember that she was never there to hear what you had to say. the comms you sent grew further apart as time went on, eventually stopping altogether. she would never reply anyway, there was no reason to waste both your time and yours on something seemingly broken beyond repair.

she may not have been dead, but you still lost her.

several more weeks went by and you had grown accustomed to the solitude. sure you would socialize when going to the market for food and supplies, but it was never anything of substance, only mere pleasantries and remarks on the quality of the items you bought. somehow you were far more weary during retirement than you had been before it.

your mind would drift to her still, wondering whether she had found someone else to watch her back or if she was vagabonding all by her lonesome. how you yearned to see her again, hear her voice or feel her hands gently help you when you fall like you have lately. it’s like your body doesn’t see the reason to keep up. you exercise to the best of your ability and try to stay fit as possible, but you’re still losing your footing more and more often, even at home.

it comes to a head when you’re making breakfast. everything had been okay prior, but one little nudge of your bad leg against a table corner and you’re sprawling. laying on the floor covered in your breakfast, it takes you thirty minutes to muster the strength needed to stand on your own.

the next day, you get a cane. you loathe having to buy it at all, hearing her voice calling you old and jokingly asking where your grandchildren are. it’s either a cane or losing what little mobility you have left, so you go with the former. you despised the visible display of your weakness, grated on what pride you had left. if fennec could see you now, what would she say?

the man had beat his way into your home with every intention to rob you and take what little supplies you had. he had been traveling for days in the desert and was tired. but then he saw exactly whose house he was robbing and he had an even better idea: take you to what used to be jabba’s palace, now ruled by bib fortuna.

see, the paths you used to tread alongside fennec provided ample opportunities to make an enemy here and there. jabba was one of them simply because you refused to work for him, and with his death, you had a little bit of peace. fortuna never attempted to seek you out but anyone who knew of jabba’s grudge against you would be wise to the reward your capture would produce.

this young hotshot was foolhardy and far too cocksure compared to his abilities. if you were in the body you used to have, this buffoon (who made his name very known to you in some sort of dominance attempt?) would be dead thrice over. but time wasnt kind to you and you still have a near-lame leg, so at his mercy you were.

you just wished he would shut his damn mouth for longer than it took him to suck in another breath. he must not realize that silence is far louder than jabbering when it comes to someone holding your life in their hands. maker forbid you have peace in your final moments, apparently. figures.

jabba’s former palace was soon in your line of sight and if you weren’t positive that you were being led to your death, you’d have been grateful to be freed of the nuisance that was toro calican. all the assurance you could find as he hauled you out of his speeder was that his arrogance would soon get him killed if he continued the way he was going.

toro dragged you to the throne room with a hand roughly dripping your bicep, trying to hurry you along as if you still had two normally functioning legs. you knew he knew about your predicament, your lack of fully independent mobility a frequent topic of his. “ease up, wank stain! you know i have a lame leg!” his answer was an aggravated huff and his blaster pressed harder into your lower back.

the lower you descended, the deeper the dread sank into your gut. this was actually real, you were about to die. peace had been made long ago with the knowledge of someone possibly wanting to find you, but now that it was happening… completely different.

you wondered if fennec would ever find out about your death. or if she did find out, your brain would questioned if she would even care. of course she would, your heart consoled, think of how long you traveled together! the trust! the bond you two share transcends time!

but you cut your journeys with her short, there was no telling. there were so many things you wish you could have told her, not just about the feelings that only grew in their intensity during her absence from your side. you wanted to tell her about the stray tooka that you took in when you first settled down; she had a litter of kittens and one of them had a glare that rivaled your dear assassin’s. there was an action holonovel you read once that had you cackling, imagining your fennec cutting off all the frivolous villain monologues with a blaster to the face.

she was never told these things and now that you were becoming rancor chow, she’d never even know them. the idea of dying before telling fennec everything that you’ve been stewing over for so long, not telling her you loved her, fuck was it heartbreaking.

a mumbled curse fell from your lips when you felt saltwater make a descent down your cheeks. you didn’t want your harbinger to see you this weak, this vulnerable, but you had no choice in the matter. your hands are bound by a pair of shockingly sturdy binders and there was no way for you to wipe the tears away. all you could do was blink them away, then meet death with your chin up and your love in your heart.

“now what do we have here?” that was most certainly not the voice of bib fortuna. you opened your eyes to find a broad man clad in green beskar occupying the throne. your common sense identified him as boba fett, which you should have thought was impossible. then again, you didn’t think it was possible for someone to be as annoying as toro calican. it was a day of being proved wrong, it seemed.

anyone could see that toro wasn’t prepared to see someone that wasn’t bib on the throne. his eyes had grown to the size of the twin suns and even through your wet eyes, you could see his facial expression morph from his fake swagger to a dog of uncertainty. nevertheless, he persisted, throwing you down at the foot of the throne. “there’s a bounty on their head and i’ve come to collect the reward.”

boba fett, even through the beskar, doesn’t seem pleased. he doesn’t move his helmet’s line of sight from toro as he speaks, something you’re grateful for. “there’s been a, how do you say, recent transfer of power. and with that change came a new way of doing things, you understand.” he scoffed at the man, your proximity to the throne enlightening you to just how annoyed he was becoming in such a short period. it seemed that toro had that effect on everybody.

“how do i know this is actually someone with a price on their head? what evidence do you have that proves their identity?”

it was clear that your captor didn’t expect to have to prove a damned thing. what a fool, not even bothering to prepare for a single unexpected event. you were almost ashamed of having been overpowered by him at this point. “anyone who’s anyone knows, this is the former partner of the late fennec shand! i’m sure you heard abour her demise — that was me by the way — and now i’ve brought her partner to you, to be taken out of commission…”

all the hair on your body stood on end. fennec was dead? killed by the very man that brought you in? no, not your fennec. she wouldn’t be overpowered by this arrogant bastard in her sleep with a hand tied behind her back, there was no way. but boba said nothing to negate the rumors and that told you everything you need to know. “if you have even a morsel of mercy, by the stars make this quick. if she’s really gone, then i’ve kept her waiting for far too long.”

those were the first words you’ve spoken since toro bound you and dragged you like a ragdoll from your home. there was no reason to entertain the man, but there was the tiniest sliver of a chance that you could implore the mandalorian in front of you to end your life with the efficiency he was known for.

he asked the man his name and merely hummed in acknowledgment when it was boastfully given, like his name meant something to a battle hardened mandalorian such as boba fett.

if you had paid attention to boba’s demeanor since your arrival, you would have noticed that something in his air changed when toro spoke about being the one to kill fennec. some would have mistook it for disbelief but it was much more than that. boba knew that toro was indeed the man who shot fennec shand, but he was not the man who killed fennec shand because she simply wasn’t dead.

she was, in fact, just in the next room scavenging for another bottle of fluorescent blue spotchka when her curiosity was piqued by the conversation occurring in the throne room. at the way the voices seemed to be familiar, she abandoned the search and decided to see for herself what the commotion was.

what she found sent liquid fire through her veins. you, on your knees and head bowed just enough to show resignation and grief, binders shackling your arms and fennec knew that you wouldn’t be able to get up on your own because of it. toro calican, the man who nearly killed her all those sunsets ago in the middle of tusken territory standing above you with a wicked sneer on his lips. this would simply not do.

“word of advice, calican,” she made her presence known with her voice, walking around to boba’s right hand side and leaning a hip against the throne. “always make sure your kills are dead before you leave them. leaving them for dead? that’s how you make enemies.” her blaster was out of her holster and firing before toro could reply, and boba was impressed with the speed she fired with. he had a feeling that it had to do with the figure at the foot of his throne.

your eyes had to be deceiving you. there was no way, toro killed fennec… right? so how in the stars was she here now? the feeling of her hands on your cheeks, warm brown eyes giving you much needed comfort after what you’ve been through. you didn’t even register boba leaving his throne until he’s on the ground in front of you, unclasping your binders with the gentleness one would treat an injured animal. maybe that’s what you were to him, a pitiful tooka missing a leg that was dropped on his doorstep.

before you can venture deeper into this rabbit hole, your body is pulled off the questionable floor and into fennec’s embrace. the way she felt against you, the calluses of her hands as she held you, it was home. you didn’t know when the tears had come back but she was quick to wipe them away with the pads of her thumbs.

“seems you found trouble. what happened to laying low, huh?” her comment brought a ready chuckle from your throat and a small smile to her lips. sweet maker how you’ve missed that smile. “maybe you’ll be safer here, what do you think?”

any and all words elude you. nothing on this planet or any other in the galaxy could drag you away from her now, not when she’s as beautiful now as the day you met her, when she gives you the smile you knew was only saved for you. “i’m always safer with you, fennec.”

she hums, her lips pressing to your forehead to ground you both in the reality of being together again. “i’ll have to say the same about you, desert rose. nearly died only a week after i left your hut.”

“only a week? i thought you’d last longer than that.”

“it was because i didn’t have you. but we don’t have to worry about that anymore, do we?”

she was right, you wouldn’t have to worry about losing her for the rest of your life.

fennec shand taglist: @cryptidcody @sacred-things @clownocoruscant @steel-phoenix @aerolanya @felucians @bookbandobssessed @senator-nahberries @obirain @themarcusmoreno @jedi-mando @flightlessangelwings @whovianwar @hornystarwarsbisexual @kaermorons (i love this handle bye ohmygod)

[ak47stylegirl]

Doctors Appointment: Chapter 9

Okay, we’re getting closer to the end here 😁 and yeah this chapter, Alan’s not having a good time. (so the same old, right? 😅😂)

I hope you guys enjoy! 😄

Past Chapters

@janetm74 @alexthefly @katblu42 @cg29 @inertplanetary @dragonoffantasyandreality

--

Scott sat crouched at the end of the parallel bars, watching as Alan tightly gripped the bars, braced legs trembling in place. Alan’s face was scrunched up in strained concentration, starring down at his feet. 

Alan hadn’t even taken a step yet, and his legs looked like they wanted to cave in. 

“Alan, I want you to walk towards your brother, okay?” Dr Suzzy as she stood within catching distance of Alan. “Now remember, it’s not a race, just go at the pace that you’re comfortable with...”

Alan nodded with a whimper, taking a shaky step forward. The first couple steps, while definitely shaky, were actually not that bad. But it quickly went down hill from there. 

Dr Suzzy’s eyes were analysing how Alan’s legs and feet behaved, watching each step Alan took. And she didn’t like what she saw...

“Come on Sweetie, you can do it...” Scott smiled encouraging, holding his hands for Alan to grasp once he got closer. “You’re doing so well, just a couple more, come on...”

Alan whimpered tearfully, disagreeing with Scott. He wasn’t doing well or good or...or okay?! This was so hard!!

But Alan continued his slow uneasy walk, not wanting to disappoint his big brother. 

But it was just so, so hard….

Dr Suzzy sighed at the sight, watching as Alan’s feet kept tilting slightly to the side. Which brought with it less stability, risk of injury and more overall difficultly walking.

In a healthy ankle joint, there would be some resistance from the muscles against bending the wrong way. But Alan’s joints were far from healthy, lacking vital muscle/cartilage that were crucial to a properly functioning joint. 

Alan’s braces were designed to give extra Alan that much needed support, and reduced the risk of injury. But they could only help so much...

“Almost there...just one more step, that’s it...” Scott smiled softly as Alan fell into his embrace, gently kissing Alan’s temple as he held his baby brother. “See, I told you, you could do it...” 

Alan just groaned, hiding his face in Scott’s neck. 

Dr Suzzy sighed, taking some notes down on her phone. It was plain to see that Alan had trouble controlling his limbs. Alan’s dexterity with both his limbs, arms and legs, were greatly affected by his chronic illness. 

Which in turn greatly affected Alan’s mobility and independence.  

Another then that was concerning Dr Suzzy, was the way Alan’s knees had been involuntarily leaning inwards, struggling to support Alan even with the help of the braces. 

It wasn’t a good sign. 

Dr Suzzy slipped her phone away, “Okay, let’s see if we can fix some of these difficulties you’re having….” 

—

“Okay, let’s move on to some balance exercises, shall we?” Dr Suzzy smiled, helping Alan move into a kneeling position on the foam mat. “We remember this one, right?”

Alan shrugged, pouting grumpily.

Scott was sitting on the mat, observing the exercise session in front of him. It was going okay so far, but…

But something worried Scott. 

Alan had been getting more and more snappy and temperamental as time wore on. Scott had a feeling they could be heading straight for a meltdown...

Dr Suzzy ignored Alan’s grumpy mood, “Okay then, quick refresher, this is the high kneel..” Alan’s back was gently straightened, his body making a L shape. 

Alan’s arms shot out to try and support himself-

“No…” Dr Suzzy gently moved Alan’s arms back, while supporting Alan’s torso with her remaining forearm. “Keep your arms and back as straight as you can, Alan.”

Alan’s pout deepened, glaring down at the floor as he listened, keeping his arms to his side. 

Alan was really struggling to keep his back straight. 

Dr Suzzy moved her forearm away, “I need you to balance as well as you can, for as long as you can, okay?” 

Alan nodded weakly, visible strain on his face as he tried to keep the kneeled position. There was no outside support, just Alan trying to balance the best he could.

It wasn’t easy…

“Okay, try not to sway….” Dr Suzzy corrected Alan, gently, nudging Alan’s back straight again. “And butt in, try to stay as straight as you can…”

Alan’s eyes narrowed, pout deepening more.

Scott could see he had to step in, “You’re doing so good, Allie-baby….” Scott smiled encouragingly, not even flinching as Alan’s grumpy eyes were turned on him. “You can do it….”

The next couple of minutes passed slowly for Alan, Dr Suzzy steadily having him do more things while in the kneeled position. 

Like reaching for a ball in front of him, then stacking foam blocks, Alan was doing modestly okay, but the strain was obvious…

Dr Suzzy pick up a foam ball, “Okay, now I want you to try and catch-”

“NO!” 

Alan crumbled to the floor, his face flushed red as tears streamed down his face. “N-No! I DoN’T WaNT-”

Everything had finally become too much for Alan.

Alan wailed, “I DoN’T WAnT To!!” Alan kicked his legs about weakly, digging his fists into his eyes. “I DoN’t WANT To!!” 

Scott sighed, moving over to Alan’s crying form. This was not the first time Scott had to handle a meltdown. From Alan or another little brother, the skill came with the role of big brother. 

But generally with Alan’s age, Scott had to deal with Alan’s meltdowns more often then any other of his brothers. (There was also the fact that with Alan, Mum wasn’t around and Dad...well, yeah...)

And those meltdowns?

They had unfortunately become quite frequent since Alan’s diagnosis. Alan’s young brain was under so much mental stress, and Allie just didn’t know how to handle it.

Scott placed his hand on Alan’s shoulder. 

“Sweetie-“ 

“No!” Alan shook Scott’s hand off, shaking his head back and forth as he continued bawling his eyes out on the mat. “I Don’T wANNA!” 

Scott frowned softly, knowing that Alan wasn’t intentionally doing this. Alan was just overwhelmed and at his breaking point…

But it was difficult not to begin feeling a little frustrated. 

Why won’t Alan let him talk? He was trying to help...

“Alan…” Dr Suzzy crouched down next to Alan, a caring and calm expression on her face. “What can I do to make this easier for you?” 

Alan’s tear-filled eyes looked up at Dr Suzzy, “I…I WAnNa Go HOmE!” Alan wailed, burying his face into his arms as sobs continued to shake Alan’s small frame. 

Dr Suzzy sighed softly, realising that she’ll need to try another method. 

“I WAnNa Go hOME! I WaNNa gO HoME!!” 

Scott gently pulled Alan onto his lap with a patient sigh, “Baby, I know you want to go home...I do...” Scott wrapped Alan up in a gentle embrace, cradling and rocking Alan ever so gently. “But that’s just not possible yet….” 

Alan just continued to sob, constantly crying, ‘I wanna go home! I wanna go home!’ into the crook of Scott’s neck. Scott grimaced slightly as his ears began to hurt from Alan’s cries. 

Ow, Alan really had a pair of lungs on him...

“Hey, Alan, look! I got someone that’s very excited to meet you….” Dr Suzzy smiled, crouching down in front of them again; holding a stuffed bunny in her hands. “Mr Rabbit!”

Alan glanced up with a thick sniffle, tears still streaming down his cheeks. 

“Mr Rabbit is sad that you’re upset..” Dr Suzzy made a sad face, making the bunny nod with a shake. “Do you want to give him a cuddle?” 

Alan nodded tearfully, arms reaching out for the cuddly toy. While Alan would have preferred his Thunderbird plushie, he wasn’t in the mood right now to be choosy…

Scott sighed, looking down at Alan with a sorrow-filled look, stroking his baby brother’s hair. Alan was still crying but thankfully for Scott’s eardrums, the loud screaming and wailing had stopped. 

“Why don’t you take a little break with Mr Rabbit here?” Dr Suzzy suggested softly, “and after, if you’re feeling better, we can continue….” 

Dr Suzzy gave Alan a slight smile, “Is that okay with you, Alan?” 

Alan sniffled into the bunny’s fur, thinking the question over. He really just wants to go home, so badly…

But he couldn’t!

“Y-yeah…” Alan nodded with a sob, snuggling deeper into Scott’s hold while cuddling the bunny close. He just wanted to go home…was that too much to ask?!

He was tired, he didn’t feel well...

Alan hiccupped, hiding his face in the bunny’s fur. 

He just...he wanted home...

TBC...

[shinsoups]

Student No. 22 —

m a s t e r l i s t

pairing: shinsou hitoshi x f!reader x class1a

genre: 1tbsp of crack, 1 tsp of fluff, a sprinkle of angst and 1 cup of chaotic randomness

synopsis: y/n was certain she would never be a Hero. She had a different goal in her mind, and that is to be a great doctor someday. With a terrible past she wants to forget, she vows she would never use her Quirk and will never let the world know what it is. Not until she finds out that the invincible quirk she thought she has can also have a certain weakness.

super random updates

a/n: canon Shinsou is joining hero class for their second year but I'm gonna make him part of Class 1A already yay! ALSO IM ON MOBILE IDK HOW TO PUT A *KEEP READING CUT* will edit this tomorrow 🙏🏻 sorry for the long post on your dash

OO5 : Acceptance...Is that a Threat? —

"You're already enrolled and your safety was entrusted to us."

"No, I'm sorry but I think I had enough." You hoarsely whispered. "I already got the answer what I was looking for."

Aizawa stopped in his tracks, his hands buried in his pockets as he watches you struggle to reply. "And that is?"

"The Hero scene isn't cut out for me." You bravely look at his eyes, slowing down your pace and faced him, catching Shinsou's gaze just behind your teacher.

"I don't want to fight nor hurt anyone to save lives. I want to save lives as a doctor if possible. And if you think that proper guidance is that one thing I need then you're wrong, sensei. I don't need that, please don't patronize me."

Aizawa tried his best to remain calm but the way you somehow push the wrong buttons and say things so straighforward makes him want to knock some sense in to you and tell you that there is more to being a hero. But the way you fidget somehow caught his watchful eyes. Aizawa squinted as you kept glancing towards him and behind him, catching a certain purple head boy passing you two.

You fiddled your hands nervously, seeing another gaze settling on your figure. Still feeling the pain on your shoulder, Aizawa walked closer to where you stood.

"You're scared of him," he said in-a-matter-of-fact tone.

"I am not."

"Because he can control you," he taunted.

Is Aizawa even a teacher right now? Why is he so pressed into this matter? You thought to yourself as you felt his presence even closer, caging you and your thoughts... your fears that someone actually exists that can easily negate your own self defense quirk. You bowed your head, averting your gaze.

"l/n-san, you don't like being controlled don't you?" Aizawa sighs seeing how your body trembles at the mention of the word.

You looked up wide eyes, straining to retort something but words fail to escape your mouth. Instead a nonsensical challenge transpired between the two of you. Shinsou held his breath, wanting to intervene the moment he saw Aizawa’s eyes glowing red and hearing your whispered exchanges. Only for Bakugou to block his way, enjoying the scene unfolding in front of them.

Everyone was silently hoping there was a good reason why Aizawa was suddenly fighting you just after finishing the Hero Training exercise. His hair flared up as he tried to capture you with his scarf, only for you to dodge and glare at your teacher.

“You didn’t fight Shinsou and Bakugou. Is that how you like to win?,” Aizawa’s voice echoed as you run towards the exit. Trying your best not to bump into someone along the way.

At the back of your mind there was a tiny voice telling you that they’re all judging you and your intentions was so unclear to be there at the Hero Course. That you don't deserve to be there. And they were right. But...

"You can become stronger if you train against him and with him. Maybe find a reason why he of all people can do that to you..."

You scoffed, amazed by how a teacher can agitate you with such simple words. Your grandfather was worse, his training methods were the worst, the hero exercise earlier pale in comparison to what you experienced. You only learned self defense in order to protect and not fight.

And to see this class filled with hopeful heroes to be are trained in order to fight for the justice they believe is such a ludicrous notion it made you wonder... why train them in the first place only for the HPSC to control everything? You gag at the toxic hero worship everyone seems to adapt. Is everyone foolishly blind? Foolishly following such trend? Or were you the blind one?

Gritting your teeth, you spat the words angrily. You stopped running and charged into him instead, “I still won. You got what you wanted, sensei. My Quirk... you saw it with your own eyes. So why do I have to hurt someone if the only goal is to win?”

With that said you side-stepped away from the white material coursing your way only to meet another set of it the moment you evaded Aizawa’s.

The rest of the class tried their best to avoid the both of you, still confused about what's going on. "She really likes to pick a fight doesn't she?" Kaminari watches as you gracefully dodge each of Aizawa's attempt to capture you.

"Sensei's erasing quirk is useless against her too," Midoriya mumbled, amazed once again with this new information. "I thought it was only fire quirks that were affected but I'm guessing she can --"

Midoriya's words were cut off when he saw Shinsou walked closer, carefully threading in the sidelines.

"You have got to be kidding me!"

"I-I think everyone should calm down." Shinsou looked over you then to Aizawa who was shocked that his own protege captured him with his own binding technique.

"y/n-san" Shinsou pulled you into him, trapping you with his binding cloth for the second time after releasing Aizawa. "I don't know what's going on, but -" he looks at his mentor then back to you.

"Release me."

"No."

"Shinsou!"

"No!" he pulled you closer.

"Take it off."

Shinsou raised his eyebrows, smirking at the tone you used. He tried to hold his smile but the way you whispered those three words somehow made you two blush at the weird notion.

You bit your lips in embarrassment as you felt his breath on your cheeks, "No."

"Please?" you sighed, trying to calm yourself down. Too close...he's too close.

Shinsou looks back up at his teacher. "Sensei-"

Aizawa’s face was more unreadable as he walks closer, Shinsou was trying to figure out what his mentor's expression means. Aizawa simply stares at the both of you, a strange look both of you can't read.

Shinsou takes a deep breath, and goes on, “I shouldn't probably intervened but she's...she's injured because of me.” he looks away, too shy with the reason he came up with, now a small tinge of red powdering his nose.

There was a long pause. Aizawa merely nods. Shinsou opens his mouth, wanting to say something more but the words don’t come.

Giving into another temptation and succumbing to the curiousity budding, you rationalized the choices in your head. Do you want to fight him? Or do you wanna know how far he can use his quirk against you. About what he said earlier, were you scared people will resent you or maybe you really are scared of yourself.

"Fine." you murmured. "I accept the offer."

"Offer?" Shinsou looks momentarily confused about the exchange.

"Good. Now please do me a favor and stop being another problem child." Aizawa pats your head and walks away as if nothing had happened. "I'm not getting paid enough for this." he mutters to himself as he looked between you and Shinsou leaving you two behind and calling the whole class to go change back into their uniforms.

"Were you always a pushover?" Shinsou asks out of curiosity as he frees you.

"I am not!"

He watches as you contorted your face into a pout, your nose scrunching in annoyance as you rub your arms. With cheeks puffed out you glared at him, "I'm going to crush you, so you better know what's coming.”

"Is that a threat?"

You pat his shoulder bravely making him flinch at the sudden contact "No. It's a declaration of war."

The heat rises to his cheeks, his cool and passive demeanor suddenly melts aways as he chuckles lowly, accepting the declaration you just announced. "Then be ready to taste defeat this next time."

Curiosity was one thing you don't like but what you really hate the most is not finding answers to satisfy your own. So this time, you might as well go all the way in satisfying the curiosity growing.

"Then try me. Bring it on, hero."

a/n: the story is progressing so slow skdkkskec i just want to stress the part that y/n hates the idea of hero worship... Probably due to one of the many traumas she endured during her childhood.

But still she's a very curious cat, Shinsou unknowingly being the reason why she accepted Aizawa's offer once again.

ps: this is not proofread 🤧 will edit laters~

taglist: @sugarandsoft @roesaurus @moonlightbae14 @therealwalmartjesus @redperson58 @i-bitch-you-bitch @allie-munoz @seijohoe @riathearora

general taglist: @b0ku4ka @chibishae34 @skusamiya

i got a taglist im soft ~ want to join? just leave a comment or shoot an ask my dudes and dudettes ✨

likes, comments and reblogs is highly appreciated 🐣

this is my first time writing bnha so tips and comments are really helpful ! ✨

[mashtonasfuck]

77 “Call me if you need anything.” with mashton? 🥺👉👈 love u!!

hi beth love u, hope u like it! 💙 as usual this ran away from me and is a 1500 word one shot 😌 send me a prompt from this list if you'd like to!

tw for panic attacks (Michael has one and Ashton talks him out of it)

Michael’s hands were shaking as he slowly dialed the phone number.

Call me if you need anything.

He tried to regulate his breathing as his finger hovered over the call button, weighing up the pros and cons in his mind.

–

The scrap of orange paper stuck on the fridge had been at the forefront of Michael's mind for days. Every morning when he rolled out of bed and into the kitchen it was just there. He hadn’t even needed to look at it to know what it said anymore.

Call me if you need anything.

The phone number was etched into Michael’s brain. He didn’t make a habit of memorising phone numbers, he only knew the important ones - his mum’s home number, Calum’s mobile number (all three of them), the pizza place three blocks away, and now this one. The one he wasn't sure he even wanted to remember.

–

He’d been in the grocery store when he’d felt the first wave of a panic attack washing over him. He’d tried to squash it down, get on with his shopping and get through the checkout before it got too bad, but by the time he’d pulled his wallet out to pay for his stuff his hands were shaking so badly that he’d dropped it twice.

“Sir, I’m sorry but I need to ask you to hurry up, I’ve got a line to get through.” The cashier was staring at him disapprovingly and Michael glanced up to see the line of people all staring at him.

“I.. uh.. forget about it.. m’sorry.” Michael grabbed his wallet and shoved it hastily into his pocket before he turned around and almost ran out of the store. He found a bench as far from the entrance as he could and collapsed onto it with his head in his hands. Michael tried to remember one of the breathing exercises Calum had taught him for moments like this, but all his brain could focus on was the people staring at him in the store. Panic bubbled up inside him and Michael let out a sob.

He couldn’t even buy groceries by himself.

“...you need to try...breathe for me okay...right here...you’re okay…”

Michael tore his head away from his hands and came face-to-face with a pair of hazel eyes looking at him worriedly. The man was crouched on the floor in front of him, grocery bags at his feet.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” The man’s voice was quiet as he spoke, “D’you think you can match your breathing to mine? Just wanna help you.”

Michael’s eyes widened as the man spoke and he instinctively pulled the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands before nodding slightly. The man smiled gently at him before continuing.

“M’kay, what we’re gonna do is breathe in for three seconds, then we’re gonna hold it for three seconds, then breathe out for three seconds. Then we’re gonna keep repeating that til you calm down a bit, take as long as you need. Ready?”

Michael was still staring at the man wide eyed but nodded back at him.

“Okay, let's breathe in.. 2.. 3.. m’kay now hold.. 2.. 3.. Breathe out.. 2.. 3..”

Michael let the man’s voice wash over him with his eyes closed, focussing on following his instructions. Vaguely in the back of his mind he realised that this is what Calum usually got him to do. Michael wasn’t sure how long it was before he felt better, but eventually he opened his eyes and smiled weakly at the stranger.

“Thanks..” Michael’s voice was a barely whisper as he spoke, but the man smiled back at him brightly.

“Hi there… you’re welcome, how are you feeling now?” The stranger ran a hand through his hair as he spoke and lowered himself to sit on the floor cross legged.

“Feel better… how’d you…?” Michael’s voice faltered and he realised how dry his throat was.

“How’d I know how to help you?” Michael nodded at the man, “Had my fair share of panic attacks n’I know it’s not always easy to remember how to help yourself. D’you need some water?”

Michael slowly reached towards the bottle of the water the man was holding out to him, taking it carefully and unscrewing the lid.

“M’Ashton by the way.” The man - Ashton - flashed him a smile before continuing, “I, uh, I was behind you in the line..”

Michael paled at Ashton’s words, panic creeping back into his subconscious until he felt a strong hand on the top of his sneaker.

“Hey… it’s all good. I actually laid into that cashier after you’d left.. Fuckin’ unprofessional bastard.”

Michael glanced up at Ashton, sensing that the other man was telling him the truth.

“I, um, I also grabbed your groceries for you.. Figured you might need them. Was just gonna leave them here for you but then I saw you panicking and well… here we are.” Ashton spread his hands in front of him as he spoke, and Michael realised that the groceries in the bags were in fact his.

“Why.. why would you do that? You don’t even know me..” Good things didn’t just happen to Michael, there had to be a catch.

“Like I said, I’ve had panic attacks myself.” Ashton shrugged, “‘Sides, I like doing nice things for people, helps me feel a bit better about the world.”

Michael blinked at Ashton not quite believing what was happening. The man had paid for his groceries.

“I can pay you back, don’t have cash right now, but if you have paypal or venmo or something..” Michael’s words died in his throat as Ashton waved him away.

“Honestly don’t worry about it man. Just promise me something?” Ashton was rooting around in his jacket pocket as he spoke, pulling out a pen and a piece of paper. “If anything like this ever happens again, or anything at all, call me?”

Michael looked down at the piece of paper Ashton was holding out to him.

Call me if you need anything.

He wasn’t sure why, but he took the paper off the other man and slid it into the pocket of his hoodie, pulling out his car keys afterwards.

“Would, um, would you help me take these to my car?” Michael glanced at Ashton and then at the grocery bags on the floor, “It’s kinda far and m’not sure I can carry it all…”

Ashton stood up in one fluid movement, bending down to pick up some of the grocery bags.

“Sure thing man, lead the way.” He smiled at Michael gently, and Michael found himself smiling back.

–

Michael almost dropped the phone as the call connected and Ashton’s voice came through the speaker.

“Hi, this is Ashton.”

“Hi, um, this is…” Michael took a breath, “Um, Michael, from the uh, from the store… you said I could… call…”

“Oh! Hey man, what’s up?” Michael could hear Ashton rustling around on the other end of the line.

“I… know you said I could call if I needed anything, and m’having a bad day… only called… cuz I didn’t know what else… Calum's not answering...” Michael’s voice trailed off as he struggled to take a breath. “M’sorry, shouldn’t have bothered you….”

“Michael, it’s okay. Breathe. Where are you? Lemme come to you” Michael could hear the worry in Ashton’s voice as he spoke and he forced himself to breathe. He rattled his address off to Ashton, the other man laughing before he spoke.

“Dude, we live in the same apartment block.” Michael let out a quiet laugh, “Give me two minutes. Is your door unlocked?”

“S’a key under the doormat..”

“Y’know that’s really not very safe right? Should get one of those key safe things, I have one - you can just text people the code for it. Apartment 7, right?”

Michael hummed in agreement and heard Ashton unlocking the door before the call disconnected.

–

Ashton found Michael sitting on the kitchen floor, palms pressed to his eyes. Ashton crossed the space between them and sat on the floor beside him.

“D’you wanna talk about it?” Ashton made sure his voice was quiet as he spoke. Michael shook his head, “S’okay… d’you want anything?”

Michael glanced up at Ashton slowly before nodding.

“...hug… please?”

Ashton’s heart broke as the other man started sobbing as he pulled him into his arms.

“I’ve got you, Michael, it’s okay.”

His gaze wandered around the room, landing on a piece of orange paper stuck to the fridge. Ashton smiled softly and hugged Michael a little tighter.

Call me if you need anything.

He was really glad Michael listened to him. Ashton didn’t know what had happened to make Michael so upset, but he knew that whatever it was he’d do everything he could to make sure he looked after the man in his arms.

——————————————————————————

[deepperplexity]

Prompt: 17. Loneliness

A/N: We are getting closer to the end of Snapemas and I wanted to write something I haven't done earlier through this prompt list. Fair warning, it is a bit sad... But I feel like this is yet another subject to shine some light on. There are some cute/sweet parts too! (Written on mobile so the paragraphs are a bit wonky, sorry 'bout that!)

Setting: Christmas party at the Burrow, Snape is approximately 85-90 years old

Characters: MANY xD

Word count: 1814

Warnings: Major Character Death

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // SNAPEMAS POST

After the war, so many years ago, Harry had told everyone of his exceptional work and dedication. He had been celebrated as a hero along with many others. He was acknowledged and people were not so frightened of him back then as they had been earlier. They nodded at him on the streets, the students had asked him to tell them stories more times than he could remember and he had made friends and amends.

Yet, none had found him to be of romantic interest. None had found him worthy of their time and love. None had found him to be partner material and he had never had a romantic relationship. One night stands, sure. But no relationship of mutual love, not a single person to share his life and home with. He had thought, he had hoped, that one day someone would find him worthy but it had never happened.

So there he was, sat in a wonky armchair surrounded by other families and everything brimmed with joy. Except he felt none. He was empty and sad, alone in the world. He knew all too well that once the party was over he would go back to his dusty home and silence would fall again. As it always did. He would cook for one, do laundry for one, clean only the spaces he used and the morning coffee would always be shipped in solitude. Not that it will continue for much longer, old as I am and my body giving way. He allowed the thought to linger. Sure, he could make potions, keep his health up and live to 150 probably. But what was the point of that?

"Severus, dinner is nearly ready. Shall I ask Ron to help you get seated?" It was Hermione who spoke to him with a soft smile on her lips as she marched over.

"I am quite alright to get seated on my own," he huffed with a slight sneer but Hermione only rolled her eyes.

"Everyone, it time to eat!" She called so loudly it could be heard all the way through the Burrow. Just as Molly's voice had once been heard even in the smallest of corners and highest of rooms.

"Come on now, up you get," she said and grabbed him with strong arms.

She marched him over to the table as his back ached terribly and his knees refused to function smoothly. She plopped him down and he sneered at her.

"There we go," she said with a smile as she patted his shoulder.

"Now, don't be a Grinch and smile." Severus could not help but do as he was told since it was nearly a tradition for her to utter those words. She gave his shoulder another pat as the table was swarmed by several generations and it was extremely cramped. But Hermione always made sure he had enough space, even if the newest generation always wanted to crawl all over him. Why? He had no idea. Perhaps all the stories their parents and grandparents had told them of the war, of his part in it.

"Granma' 'mione" Hermione turned at the little girl who stood next to her leg.

"What is it dearie?" The granddaughter of Harry and Ginny had clearly inherited her looks from the Weasley side of the family with her red sparkling hair and twinkling eyes of mischief.

"I wanna sit here," the girl said and pointed to the chair next to Severus. Hermione smiled.

"I think your father wants to sit here," she said and the little girl pouted while Hermione smiled so widely her eyes wrinkled even more.

"Bu' I wanna sit by Uncle Sevy!" She stomped her foot with an angry expression and Hermione sighed.

After a while, and some bickering about who would sit where, everyone had a place in the recently remodelled and extended dining hall of the Burrow. Hermione had done a great deal to fix up the place as she and Ron were the only ones who wanted the place when Molly and Arthur had passed away from old age. Severus had helped with some magical binding spells and such but he had not been able to do much as his body did not age well. Hermione always said it was because he didn't allow enough joy and exercise in his life and he always huffed at the words. But lately, lately everyone had seemed more worried about him and comments like that had stopped coming. He suspected it was because he was truly old and brittle now.

"Well go ask-"

"Of course you shall sit by my side you little trickster," Severus said with a thunderous voice and the girl beamed at him before she quickly crawled up on the chair and Hermione simply scooted her in closer to the table as Albus came in.

"That's my seat!" He said and he played the shocked parent role as his daughter laughed on a giggle.

"Uncle Sevy said I get so sit with him," she giggled with a proud expression and Albus shook his head in defeat as his daughter, being merely 5 years old, was as headstrong as any child could possibly be.

"There is room for everyone," Hermione chided and Albus took the seat next to his daughter as the chair on the other side of Severus had already been claimed by the grandchild of Hermione and Ron, one of Hugo's daughters. Little Mary. She was a quiet child, as in she did not speak unless it was an absolute necessity, but very attentive and brilliant in her own way.

The chaos of Christmas dinner ensued after some thanks had been said for everyone's attendance, and the children begged for their gifts to be delivered after dinner. Hermione, the boss of them all, had shut it down with a few chosen words. So they all started to eat, talk and laugh again. The house was truly filled to the brim with them all. Three generations, four if you counted Severus as a separate one, which surely made sense?

The food was delightful, the children as well. The adults were in the middle of various conversations while helping the little ones. Severus kept a close eye on the two little ones closest to him and helped them as much as he could while Albus's daughter blabbered about gifts, school and the new pyjamas her mom had given her a week earlier - apparently, it had reindeer on it and that was obviously very important to tell him. On his other side sat Hugo's daughter in silence for a long time as she gently ate and listened to the conversations around her. She was also 5 years old and yet she seemed very different from the rest of the children. Less out there and more closed of. Severus found himself to be very attentive to her, even when the other children and adults called for his attention he still had her under his gaze.

Once the table was cleared and the squadron of Weasleys and Weasley-related people had moved out to the living room while the Potters and Potter-related people trailed after Severus was still sat by the table. He was looking out the window as snow fell silently in tiny little glittering flakes. Someone tugged on his sleeve. Hugo's daughter, Marry, wanted his attention. He glanced down at her.

"Yes?" His tone was as gruff as always yet there was a hint of a surprise in there somewhere. Mary looked intently at him, unflinching and unwavering.

"Can I sit?" She pointed to his lap and Severus opened his arms so the girl could climb up into his lap. It was an odd feeling. Not that the children didn't do it, even the previous generation had wanted to sit in his lap - well that time it was harder to accept but eventually, he had learnt to deal with having children crawl all over him. No this was an odd feeling as Mary never wanted to sit in a lap, be hugged or held in any way. She wanted no physical contact with others when it wasn't on her terms. And everyone respected that (even though he knew it hurt her mother deeply). But she snuggled into him, her knees raised as she leaned her side into his chest and he wrapped his arms around her gently. They both looked out the window in silence for a moment.

"Does it hurt?" she asked and Severus arched a brow at her. He was still rather good at that.

"Does what hurt?" he asked and the girl ever so slightly tilted her head.

"Life." Severus gawked at the girl. His mouth slightly open as that was in no way a question someone so young should ask.

"I saw it," she whispered, "the hurt, the bad people." Mary fidgeted with her fingers as she looked down.

"You saw it? Severus asked and she nodded silently.

"Would you like to tell me?" he asked and she nodded again.

"What did you see?" He asked and she peaked up at him.

"I see all kinds of things," she said softly, " some good, some bad, some make me sad. Like you. When I see things from you it makes me sad. You seem sad. It hurts," she said and Severus was quite surprised at how well-spoken she was for her age - and the fact she barely talked.

"Is that so?" She nodded at his words. He gave her a small smile.

"Well, you see Mary, life is difficult. Life is hard. But it is also beautiful," he said as he struggled to find words the little child could understand and also not to tell her too much.

"There are good people and bad people, there is love and hate. Some choose the wrong path and end up at the wrong place," he continued as they both yet again looked out the window.

"I don't understand. You are good but your life was bad? Wasn't it?" Her direct words cut through him harshly yet he smiled as she called him good. Children, unlike adults, said what they thought and felt. No filtering. Just honesty.

"True, my life was not easy-"

"And grandpa's pa was mean to you. But you like grandpa? You protected him? I don't understand." Severus stiffened, how do you know that?

"Mary, can I ask, what exactly do you see?"

"Well, I-" a burst of loud laughter broke through their little bubble and Mary jump a little as she grabbed on to Severus.

She relaxed again, "well I see what has happened, what might happen too. Sometimes it's really clear but sometimes it's hard to see. It's, foggy. I think that is the things that might happen."

"I think you're right," Severus murmured. Maybe she's a seer?

"Have you talked to your parents?" Mary shook her head, "Is this why you don't want to be touched?" Mary nodded, "do you see things about people more often when they touch you?" he continued in a steady, unwavering rhythm of his thunderous yet low voice. Mary nodded again.

"I see."

"That's my line," Mary said with an attempt at a smile. Severus smiled and gave her leg a little pat.

Yet, a thought occurred to him.

"May I ask, why you are willing to sit with me?" Mary tensed ever so slightly.

"Do you want to know?" Severus nodded sharply. He did indeed want to know even though he had a hunch.

"I don't see more foggy things from you and it feels, feels different. Feels like there is no more." Severus sighed, he understood her words. He had felt life slip away the past year as well.

"And the bad stuff, there is not so much bad left in them. Have you, hrm... I don't know the word."

"Accepted them and moved passed it?" Mary nodded that that was what she meant, "I believe so, I believe I've come to terms with those things in the past."

"But not the loneliness, I see it. The empty house. The coffee cup." Severus sighed at that.

After a moment of silence where Mary curled up even more and leaned her head against his chest that rose and sunk with every breath.

"I'm gonna miss you," she said in a hushed whisper. He gently stroked the top of her head, a coldness spread through him as the realisation truly hit him. He was nearing the end of what was his life. And who knew what waited beyond the border between eh living and dead; certainly not he.

"I will miss you as well. But I won't go far," he said softly and she chuckled ever so slightly.

"You shake when you talk uncle Sevy," she said, "it feels nice."

"Well, I have a deep voice. It happens," Severus said with a tired yet warm smile as he relaxed with her in his lap.

"It's nice," Mary whispered and after a moment he felt her body grow heavy as she silently fell asleep cradled in his arms.

It took several minutes before Hermione appeared in the doorway, just outside of Severus view as he was watching the snowfall outside still. She silently beckoned Ron, Hugo and Hugo's wife Ellie to come over. She pointed towards Severus and little Marry who was slumbering deeply. They all had wide smiles over their lips as they watched the scene.

"She's, she's in his arms," Ellie whispered on a suffocated sob. Hugo hugged his wife gently as tears gleamed in his eyes as well. Hermione stepped over as silently as she could.

"I'll take her," she whispered and Severus arched a brow at her.

"She's fine here," he said as he actually did not want to let the little girl go. Not for his sake, no, but for her sake. Little Mary, who never got human contact without an ensuing anxiety attack or crying. Little Mary, only five years old, who had to see things none should. Not only the one life she lived but everyone else's as well. He held her softly and Hermione nodded.

"I'll check on you in a moment," she said and he nodded ever so slightly. Hermione left and took the rest of the crowd that had gathered with her before she closed the door and left Severus in solitude with the sleeping child cradled ever so gently in his embrace.

When Hermione came back over an hour later Mary was sleeping even deeper. Her little hand splayed over Severus's chest and her head slightly tilted where it rested against his arm. she was heavy ad his legs had fallen asleep but he did not mind, no he did not mind one bit as Mary had a tiny smile on her lips as she slept peacefully.

"Should we put her to bed?" Hermione whispered and Severus nodded with a small smile. It was indeed time to let go. Hermione skillfully snuck her arms in under Mary, but the little girl stopped smiling instantly. Hermione swiftly walked out with the little girl as Hugo entered the room with Ellie in tow.

"Thank you," Ellie whispered as she silently cried tears of joy.

"How did you manage to get her to sit in your lap? Please, tell us," Hugo said and Severus gave the couple a tired smile.

"She asked, I obliged," he simply stated. They looked a bit confused at that. But Severus ignored it.

"You have a gifted daughter," he said, "and I do not mean that in the general spew people cast about when it comes to children. I truly mean, she is gifted. You ought to speak with her, and get help." This seemed to both concern and confuse the couple. Severus allowed his gaze to glide over to the window. An old man's pleasure, to look at the world outside.  

"What, what do you mean, Severus?" Hugo asked as he crouched beside him.

"She's a seer," he simply stated.

"A, a seer?" Ellie asked as she sat down on a chair next to Severus.

"Indeed, and physical contact gives her more visions. visions of the past, the present, the future. It's all quite much for suck a young girl. You ought to get her help, allow her to explore and train her ability before it hurts her even more," Severus said and he did try his hardest to do so in a gentle way.

"She told you?" Severus nodded at Hugo's words.

"She, she never told us she, we just thought she, was special. Had special needs..." Ellie sobbed and Hugo looked as if he was devising a plan. Severus did not really concern himself with it as he knew he would not be here long enough to see what happened. He had felt it, and with Mary's words, he knew it. It was all ending.

Once Harry had dropped Severus off at his home and apparated back to the Burrow Severus sagged in the hallway. He was exhausted and he felt as if he could sleep for weeks. It was indeed a struggle to just undress and get ready for bed. But once he was properly tucked in while wearing his most comfortable nightshirt he slowly drifted off to the world of dreams. Little Mary's smiling face greeted him and she took his hand in hers. It was warm and soft, gentle as she tugged him through a field of sunflowers that echoed with children's laughter and the softest of music lingered in the wind.

The living room was filled with talk about Mary as Severus felt himself grow even more tired.

"Severus, would you like Harry to take you home?" Ginny asked with a gentle smile as she walked up to him.

"I presume that would be in order," Severus said and Ginny immediately told Harry who got dressed in coat and boots as Ginny helped Severus get dressed. He felt such disgrace at being such an ordeal but Ginny kept telling him it was no trouble and that they loved to have him with them. He could not fathom why and did not dare to question it as that might have changed their minds. They were, after all, the closest thing he had to a family. How it came about he still could not quite understand but it had happened at another Christmas party many years ago.

His breathing slowed as he found peace. His heart stopped beating as he felt warmth and joy spread through his younger body in the world of dreams and love. His soul drifted away, led by Mary's sweet smile as she called for him to come home and be free. All that was him left the world of the living and his body that still had a face etched with a soft smile. As he stepped over the border and embraced eternity Mary let go of his hand. And he knew, knew he would see her again, in many years when she was old and wise. When she had lived her life he would great her with a smile as he was no longer lonely and cold.

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // SNAPEMAS POST

Uffh, this hurt to write but at the same time, I really wanted to try my hand at this kind of sorrow and joy... This older version of Severus, this lonely version who never got a chance at love in life. but who still managed to find joy and peace in the end.

I hope you guys liked this despite it being dark/sad and different <3

Tags: @lizlil @snapefiction  @morphineisouthoney​ @setsuna-meiou31​ @snapefiction​ @monstreviolet

[Dec:2020]

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[kozumebunny]

I'm on mobile so I can't put a word cut rn I'm so sorry

Word count: 6k (IM SO SORRY FOR FELLOW MOBILE USERS WHO JUST WANNA SKIP THIS POST)

Pretty Setter Squad x gender neutral reader (minus Kageyama and Shirabu)

No pronouns/body parts mentioned

🏐It had started off innocent enough. Your parents wanted you to be more involved in school. You didn't care for any athletics but you heard that there was one club at your school famous: volleyball. 

🏐Between the maroon plaid skirt, high grades, and the famous volleyball club of Shiratorizawa you couldn't deny that it was a good school.

🏐So, you got more involved at such a good school, with something it was famous for.

🏐You became the manager for the volleyball club. It was weird and maybe even a little awkward at first, but it was mostly Tendou who helped you warm up to the team and get you out of your shell.

🏐Watching them practice you could see how strong and efficient they all were at volleyball; you couldn't say for yourself how good they were in action until a practice game against another school. Shiratorizawa won 25-5 in the first set, 25-10 in the second.

🏐You were floored at that match.

🏐When it comes around to a volleyball training camp you suggested to the coach that they spend a day at another school for a practice match the coach arranged for the volleyball club to stay at a camp for a week!

🏐You were excited and so was Tendou. He was definitely a golden retriever in a past life

🏐You all go out the night before and you're so excited and you all start talking

🏐They're all excited about it and ask what you're excited for

🏐So you state fax

🏐"I'm excited to see the other setter/spiker duos in action. Moreso for the setters"

🏐Ushijima is like ah yes a fellow of culture I see!

🏐Semi and Shirabu are so flustered by that it's low key adorable

🏐Ushijima also respects setters for giving him the ball to spike

🏐So when you get to the volleyball camp it's hot so you wear the track jacket and school skirt

🏐Karasuno, Kuroo, and Bokuto all like 👀👀👀 another manager 

🏐Oikawa is interested too

🏐Especially when he comes over and you politely talk to him

🏐Oikawa is sooo fucking frustrated and peeved when you beeline over to karasuno to talk to kageyama 

🏐Man's is like aight imma head out

🏐Iwaizumi respects it tho. He respects that you treat Oikawa like walmart 💓

🏐you stick with semi and those who are benched and help them exercise/practice

🏐and then this guy walks up to you and he is TALL and looks like a MODEL and he has this really stern glam look to his eye so when he looks you in the eye and says in the most bored voice "where's your setter?" 

🏐why did you respond "I'm sorry I'm single"

🏐Tendou becomes the 🤣 emoji

🏐so you just grab model boys hand and lead him to Semi and Shirabu who are hanging out at the same bench

🏐"Semi, this is??" "I'm akaashi. I wanted you to teach me your sets."

🏐so semi and akaashi make plans to do some setting together after practice matches, before dinner

🏐when the time comes akaashi brings along a friend: kenma!

🏐 Kenma sits by you and observes akaashi and semi as they toss up balls, he watches you write down what semi is saying and make little diagrams on a piece of paper

🏐so kenma makes an offhand comment to you

🏐"Semi is putting most of his force into his fingertips when he sets the ball"

🏐You say thanks and write it down

🏐suga is the makeshift babysitter for oikawa so iwaizumi can have a BREAK for once in his life

🏐so when suga loses sight of oikawa he's like oh lawd oh god no

🏐So he gets to the gym and finds oikawa

🏐Oh god Oikawa is bothering you oh no

He walks over telling oikawa to go away

🏐You him and kenma are talking setting things while semi and akaashi keep practicing 

🏐Okay so maybe oikawa can bother you

🏐Sugawara walks over and introduces himself

🏐He's a setter too I see 👀

🏐Oikawa sees ur phone light up with a notif from Twitter and he sees the handle before you turn it over

🏐You didn't even check the notif

🏐So he thinks it's kind of weird

🏐So everyone goes to dinner and sits with their teams and you sit with semi and everyone else and just big chilling

🏐And then you get a Twitter dm

🏐On your side thirst twitter

🏐It's from oikawa: I saw your subtweet about setters having pretty hands. Wanna see what mine can do?

🏐Semi be like what you looking at

🏐Oh god semi read it oh god

🏐Semi starts sputtering and gets upset

🏐Oikawa can't just talk to you like that!!

🏐Semi talks to oikawa after dinner and you go stay with the managers cleaning up

🏐But then

🏐Sugawara walks over

🏐And so do kenma and akaashi 

🏐Oikawa be like oh yes mischief time

🏐He just wants to fluster you

🏐Suga is interested

🏐Kenma and akaashi no go

🏐Semi does NOT want to share

🏐Oikawa and semi manage to corner you in a room that's empty and they both grope/finger fuck you

🏐Oikawa is in front of you groping you and giving soft sweet kisses to your face as he figures out what you like

🏐Semi is behind you with his hand in your pants as he tries to get you to moan

🏐And then suga walks in

🏐It's mostly just hands and teasing and you don't even get to get off before you hear someone calling for oikawa

🏐They all back off

🏐It is really weird at dinner that night as 🏐semi has a hand over your shoulder and after dinner he hangs out with you and the other setters

🏐Suga sits behind you with you in between his legs, back to chest and he plays with your hair

🏐Oikawa sits in between your legs

🏐Kenma and akaashi are laying against each other

🏐Semi sits beside you holding your hand

🏐You're all just on your phones 

🏐Except suga he is mercilessly teasing you 

🏐Oikawa is so jealous he wants to make you blush too

🏐So he scoots down and bites your inner thigh

🏐And when you let out a whimper kenma just looks over you and sucks in a breath while akaashi is just watching you

🏐Oikawa gets mischievous like kenma akaashi don't you want to hear some more from our little manager

🏐Kenma is shy so akaashi comes over and brings kenma with him

🏐Suga moves his hands to lightly rest around a shoulder and the other holding your neck 

🏐Semi grabs your hand towards him restraining you and he pries back one leg

Akaashi grabs the other hand/leg

🏐Oikawa is more than happy to eat you out and grope you while everyone watches

🏐And no one has a condom so it's all mouth and hands

🏐Someone comes on your chest/stomach and in your hand but when it comes time to clean up it's a little weird

🏐Kenma akaashi and semi all sit by each other while you're laying across all three of their legs

🏐Suga and oikawa come back and give out wet towels for everyone to clean up with

🏐You just lay there and cuddle with them until someone comes by saying it's bed time

🏐You all go to bed but it's pretty interesting the next morning when all the setters snag a table and have you sit with them

🏐Bokuto and kuroo of course come with akaashi and kenma

🏐And they start to ask if ur single if u wanna date can they have your number

🏐And oikawa is like. A dog. He's like no. M I n e

🏐It's kind of sad when all of you have to go back home,you all text on a group chat so it's pure chaos but fun

🏐Kenma prefers to text you one on one and play games with you 

🏐Semi likes to go run down to the store with you after volleyball practice to eat 

🏐Oikawa likes to get on calls with you and study 

🏐Suga likes to recommend you s stuff and send pics/tea about karasuno

🏐Akaashi just sends you pics of bokuto going emo mode it's low-key funny

🏐You guys will either meet again at a volleyball club or on weekends or for a Netflix party! 

[dyanlzbb]

Bucky and the Toy Phone (2/3)

Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x OFC

Word Count:  2072

Warnings:  none that I could think of.

Bucky took his time to sort out his feelings. He tried to read, to watch movies, to take long walks in the park... but during those activities all he could think of was Chiara and Ethan. And her ex… he was fearing that he may come back one day and be interested in them, reducing his chance to be in their lives to a zero.

Pepper invited more often Chiara and Ethan with the excuse of work and sharing anecdotes before her daughter was born. But they knew perfectly that the reason behind all of those invitations was to make her and Bucky to interact with mixed effects.

Some days, Bucky would start a conversation with Chiara only to be interrupted by Ethan throwing a tantrum or trying to get full attention from his mother. Some days, Ethan wanted to play with Bucky and Steve, usually letting Bucky to play the bad guy against Captain America and his tiny sidekick.

Sam noticed the conflictive attitude from the boy and stated to call him little devil. He even mentioned once that Ethan was jealous of Bucky and that was the reason behind his hesitancy.  

Chiara and Ethan became regulars in the Avengers compound; they visited at least 3 times a week, sometimes every day. That was until Chiara got really sick. For days, Chiara had been under the weather, but she still needed to go to work and care for her son.

However, she couldn’t run far from illness for too long. It didn’t help that Ethan’s usual nanny had to attend a congress from college during that week. So on top of her usual work and being a single mother, Chiara had to deal with a very aggressive flu.

Luckily her boss noticed the red watery eyes, the running nose and the coughing and sent her home for the weekend a lucky Thursday. Chiara was grateful until she realized that Ethan was especially energetic that day. On their way home he kept pointing at every car, house and tree he could see.

She entered home and put Ethan down in the living room while she went to serve the take away food she got before picking up the boy from school, in no way she wanted to make dinner under her condition. After they ate, she poured a cup of tea and sat in the couch watching over Ethan who was drawing on the coffee table.

Ethan was coloring a page from a Power Rangers coloring book and turned to show his work to his mother, just to find her sleeping. He moved closer to her and tried to open her eyes, just to listen to her grunting and turning over a bit. Ethan stared once again at his mother and stayed still for over a minute. Nothing changed; his mother wasn’t paying attention to him.

So he did what any reasonable toddler would do, he went to grab some toys from his room and brought them to the coffee table, being one of them, the toy phone that his uncle Tony gave him.

The thing with that particular toy phone is that, as always, Tony went over the top with it. So when Ethan was playing after his mother took an involuntary nap, he pressed the number 0 and the button on the side and was connected to F.R.I.D.A.Y. immediately.

The I.A. voice spoke to the boy. – Ethan, how can I be of assistance today? – Tony had programmed a direct line in case of an emergency, something that Ethan could dial easily in case he needed an Avengers intervention. He never imagined that the kid would call him accidentally, which was obvious if you think about it, unless you’re the genius Tony Stark.

The little one wasn’t scared of the I.A. voice. You could blame the TV and all of the internet apps of him being familiar with a mysterious voice, so the boy wasn’t afraid to converse with the immaterial being – Yes, wanna call Bucky. – He was the first person that came to his mind.  

Over the previous weeks, Bucky tried to get close to Ethan and Ethan was happy to get his attention. Not only because he was friends with Captain America, one of his heroes… but because he really liked Bucky, but somehow he also couldn’t stand him at times.

Following the instructions from Tony, the I.A. connected the call to the Avenger in question.

Bucky was exercising at the gym. Doing repetitions was the best way he found of thinking through what was happening around him. And it was a distraction from thinking how he still liked Chiara and how Ethan sometimes seemed to like him and sometimes wanted him as far away as possible from his mother. Which the others said it was normal for a child his age since he was getting to the Oedipus complex.  

He was immersed in his thoughts when F.R.I.D.A.Y. called for him. – Mr. Barnes, you have a call request, shall I connect it to your mobile?

It took him by surprise, he usually never get calls and he could count with one hand the number of people who has his number or wanted to talk to him. – Sure. – He went to his phone and pressed the answer button to receive the call. – Hi, this is Bucky, who’s calling?

-          Hello, this Ethan.

-          Ethan? – Bucky was surprised to hear the little boy’s voice, he wasn’t sure he knew how to make a call. He tried to contain his panic keeping at by the thoughts of Chiara and Ethan having an accident or worst. - What are you doing? Does your mother know you’re calling me?

-          No, she sleep. – Ethan replied casually.

-          Are you in danger? – Since he was doing fine, then it had to be something else.

-          No. But mommy is sick.

-          Are you alone? – Bucky heard the boy saying yes and his mind started to race 100 mph with all of the things that could go wrong when you have a little kid home alone. - Do you want me to come and check on your mom?

-          Yes please.

-          Don’t move Ethan until I come and get you.

-          Okey! See ya! – The boy said casually not knowing the storm he created in Bucky.

Bucky just had time to put on a jacket and grab the keys of one of the many cars that Tony had in the garage. He was halfway to the car when he realized something: he had no idea where Chiara lived. A little ashamed of having overlooked such an important detail, he called for help. - Umph, F.R.I.D.A.Y. do you have Chiara’s address?

Of course the I.A. had the address. - I have sent it already to your mobile Mr. Barnes. I also must tell you that the key to her apartment is in the common room, it is perfectly labeled on the first drawer from the right.

-          Thank you, F.R.I.D.A.Y.

Bucky went back to retrieve the key which truly was perfectly labeled as “CHIARA”, went back to the garage and hurried to the apartment. He was preoccupied that something bad had happen to Chiara. He just knew she was sick and Ethan was home alone. A bunch of scenarios crossed his mind. But he gave himself some time to grab some medicines for her.  

With each passing light he grew anxious about the little boy being alone. Finally he arrived to the building marked on the GPS and hurried to number 3B. Even when he was extremely unsettled, his training as the Winter Soldier prevailed allowing him to open the door. At the sight of him, Ethan ran full throttle and threw his arms around his legs as a greeting.  

Bucky felt relief at once, he unruffled his hair and looked around. He then saw Chiara. The position in which she was sleeping surely would let her neck in pain when she wakes up. So he turned to Ethan and whispered. – Let’s take mom to bed, shall we? – And Bucky entered, closed the door and moved to carry her.

Ethan nodded enthusiastically and ran to show Bucky his mother’s room. Bucky couldn’t help noticing her beauty. He was mesmerized by her full lips and the rhythm of her breathing.  He put her to bed, took off her shoes and made sure she was comfortable before turning to deal with the little devil.

He closed the door and turned to Ethan. – Well, pal, now… what were you doing when you called? – Ethan showed him his coloring book but decided it was more important to show Bucky the apartment paying special attention to his room and his Iron Man toys. After the mini tour and having found another book that needed color, Bucky went to the kitchen to make some chicken soup and clean a little bit what he could find.

Chiara woke up when the sun was down in bed and was scared when she noticed the hour. She knew Ethan was alone. She felt ill still, weak but she had a responsibility with her son. So imagine her surprise when she went out and saw Ethan and Bucky having dinner and discussing school.

- Then what did the miss said when you took your crayons from the girl? – Bucky asked completely immerse in their conversation.

- She says… she says to share them, like with Benji… but it was my turn!

- Of course it was your turn!  She already had them for her flower.  

Listening to a contained giggle that became a cough Bucky looked up to find Chiara smiling. Despite having red puffy eyes because of the flu, he found her beautiful. In that precise moment he understood how smitten he was. He didn’t want to deny it anymore. Yet the excited squeal from Ethan brought him back to reality. Because Ethan was Chiara’s priority and he didn’t know if he fitted into that equation, not when sometimes Ethan behaved as if he wanted Bucky around and others like a rival who was trying to steal his mother from him.

- Mommy, Bucky came. – The little boy ran to the arms of his mother.

- Yes baby, I can see that… but why? – Chiara turned to see the beaming face of Bucky. He looked as handsome as ever and she… well, she had been sleeping all day due to the flu so probably not the prettiest sight right now.

- Oh, Ethan called me and said you were sick, so I came to watch over him.

- Thank you Bucky, but you shouldn’t have – She was ashamed that he had to come and a light pink tinted her cheeks. Then she found herself thinking about what he had just said – When you said “he called me”… what do you mean exactly? – remembering her phone was on her purse and that Ethan couldn’t have known Bucky’s number because not even Chiara had it.

- Well, F.R.I.D.A.Y. told me I had a call from Ethan. – Both adults were shocked when they realized the impossibilities regarding a call from Ethan.

- Ethan, how did you call Bucky? – Chiara asked and the boy ran to give her the toy phone he received from Tony. And of course, everything made sense in a minute. She would be mentioning it to Tony and Pepper in their next meeting.

As if in cue to break the tension from the moment, the TV announced Ethan’s favorite show and he squealed excitedly – “Watch Bucky”.  Ethan grabbed Bucky’s hand to take him to the sofa and sat next to him to watch Paw Patrol.

Of course Ethan pointed and explained the whole episode to Bucky, he was excited. Bucky noticed it, and he noticed how Chiara sat next to him and Ethan. He thought that he could get used to this: good days and bad days ending with a cartoon show. It was a bittersweet feeling, hope clouded by fear. He craved more and more for this dreamed life.

Unbeknown to him, Chiara craved for the same. Right now the illness was taking the best from her, but she was elated to have Bucky there, responding a call from her son. And Ethan was beyond himself. He liked the attention he got from both adults next to him, they were his favorite adults, and for a first night, the three of them were complete.

[365text]

{ 2020 quarantine challenge :: day 1 } how i plan my days + my “study” schedule

basically a wEek in the LiFe of a bErkEley (graduating) senior + deep dive into how i plan and remember each day i spend in quarantine while still attending ~*zoom university*~ !! yeet

• an introduction •

because i spend a lot of time online, i find that my google calendar is the quickest and easiest way for me to manage my time !! though i use my planner / bullet journal on a daily basis to manage my TODOs (+ to journal), i find that gcal gives me the best flexibility and efficiency when it comes to actually planning out and scheduling my day!

the fact that i can check it on my phone while i’m on the go (hurray @ integration across devices) also helped a lot when i was still on-campus and didn’t have the ability to take out my planner from my backpack. and even now in quarantine, when i don’t want to be on my laptop, i can just quickly glance at whatever mobile device to see what i need to do next!

but ya, here comes a (very long) breakdown of how i use this system to keep my days goin’ ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ 

(1) color coding + customizations

i am, as many of my friends have pointed out, an aggressive color-coder 👀 i just really like to be able to look at my calendar at the start of the day and have a good idea of what kind of things i need to take care of! to go through my separate calendars/categories in (reverse) order:

bright red (tests) || to remind me when my exams are, not that i’d forget 🤪

light gray (school) || all things school related! classes, student orgs, meetings, etc.

bright blue (teaching duties) || class i’m a TA for

dark blue (csm, aka more teaching) || student org i’m a part of

orange (exercise) || everything health + wellness related

yellow (events) || all my non-school related Events™ that i schedule (ie. socials, calls with friends, anything rly a step from a ~regular daily activity~)

maroon (chinese hw) || hw + projects assignment due dates

light green (daily) || my day-to-day activities

i like having separate categories correspond to colors that i associate with them too! bright red for alarm (exams lmao), light gray for school (muted, in the background hah), light green for daily (because it’s also more muted/in the background, but still prominent enough that i’ll notice it heh), and yellow for fun! events! (because it’s warm and cheerful). 

(2) separate calendars customization

most of my colors correspond to separate calendars, partially because it’s faster to create a color-coded event if you have it in a separate calendar! at least, it is on desktop heh. and also! i find that it’s easier to customize more things on an individual calendar basis:

notifications: each calendar/category has different notification settings. my “tests” calendar reminds me 1 week + 2 weeks in advance, "school” is just 10 min. in advance, whereas “daily” has no reminders at all! i customized these settings according to how often i felt like i needed help remember when certain things were.

colors (lol): in case it wasn’t obvious, colors matter a lot to me LOL. you can choose your own custom colors if it’s a separate calendar, and you can only use the google calendar default colors if you’re “recoloring” an existing calendar event.

display: it’s nice to also be able to toggle on/off various calendars!

but ya those are the main reasons why i use separate calendars instead of just recoloring the events in a single calendar!

(3) creating structure

because as a college student we usually have a good amount of free/flexible time, i find creating structure to be very important for me — and this is true for almost all students now during times in quarantine, when everything is kind of up in the air / go-at-your-own-pace. 

i feel like the nice thing about being a student is that we usually have repeating events, so i like to set recurring calendar events to help create a regular structure on a weekly basis. usually i sit down at the start of the semester with my schedule/syllabi and just add everything in one go. 

and now in quarantine, even if you aren’t given a schedule to follow and if working with a schedule is helpful for you, then creating that structure yourself is a nice way of adding consistency and stability back into your life :’)

the first calendar photo is how my gcal looks at the start of the week before any planning happens!

(4) time blocking

i once read that time blocking (re: setting aside chunks of time for a single task) is optimal for efficiency / mental energy. typically it’s easier for people to focus on one task for an extended period of time (with breaks) than it is to multitask or context-switch super often.

i also find that sometimes my schedule has weird gaps in it, due to the way my mandatory events are set up. so time blocking has helped me determine when i can get certain things done, or if i just wanna take a break in my awkward 30 min. gap between meetings!

the way that i time block is usually:

write in my planner all my (intended) TODOs + goals for the day

look at my calendar for the day + start planning when i’ll do which TODOs using my (default) calendar DAILY 

i only plan the day of in my google calendar, because things change and who knows how much i’ll actually get done ¯\ _(ツ)_/¯ also it’s a relaxing thing for me to sit there and journal/plan before i get started with my day hehe. a morning ritual, in a sense!

it also makes it a lot less stressful to look at my calendar, because i only ever look at the current day i’m on and what to do on that particular day. the interface of google calendar makes it really easy for me to drag events around and update time estimates as the day progresses too!

i also find it very useful for me to see what it’s actually possible to get done in my day, since sometimes my TODO list can be a lil’ too ambitious (oops 😋)

(5) daily logs + journaling

and lastly, i have some friends who have completely forgone their gcals since things moved online, but i have actually leaned on it even more —

one reason is all the stuff i listed above (structure, efficiency, also just habit at this point haha). but another really important reason to me is the logging that my gcal calendar creates! since i just spend every day at home, i feel like days were passing by a lot more quickly + in a blur, and by “writing down” everything i did/planned to do on gcal, i’m able to remember what i’ve been doing during these really interesting times o:

it helps me when i journal at the end of the day / the next morning, because i just look back at my gcal to reference what things i did, and then journal about how i felt about those activities.

• the ending •

aaaaand that’s it!

my super long documentation on how i’ve managed my time these past few years in college + in this 2020 quarantine era :’)

[managedmischiefs]

north//chapter nine

i apologize from the bottom of my heart for this chapter taking so long!! school sucks and takes up so much time. so please enjoy all these words that i wrote! big plots coming up real soon!! also i apologize in advance for the amount of pov changes in this chapter lol.

genre: angst, fluff, smut

pairing: season 10 spencer reid x female oc

warnings: talk of childhood abuse, smut, alcohol consumption, guns, me not knowing anything about art

words: 10.2k

AMELIA

I’m practically drenched in sweat when I wake up, cocooned in Spencer’s arms with my face pressed into his neck. Spencer becomes a furnace during the night, and combining his body heat with his tendency to cuddle me for hours upon hours, waking up sweaty is a common occurrence. My nose scrunches up and I start my gentle trek to unravel from Spencer’s arms. Thankfully, his grip isn’t too tight and he lets me go, snoring away and tucking his hands under my pillow. 

I have every intention of getting up to go make breakfast before Spencer has to leave, but when I linger and let myself admire his face, I stop in my tracks. I revel in the beauty of his little button nose and his unruly eyebrows and his dimples, a different type of warmth spreading through my body. I resist the urge to reach forward and run my fingers over his face. He needs to get as much sleep as possible before he returns to work in a few hours. 

Work. I guess he has to go back to work. Our six weeks together were absolutely amazing and only made me fall deeper in love with Spencer. We switched from apartment to apartment for the first two weeks or so, spending most of our time watching movies, laying in bed, or sitting on the balcony as we share a blanket. And once Spencer was mobile again, we opted to go out more than we had been. We went to the grocery store, bookshops, dinners, a drive-in movie, and Spencer even took me to a planetarium. We stayed there for hours as Spencer rambled on and on and on about the stars and planets and constellations. I don’t think I retained any of the information he relayed but I didn’t care and I still don’t. I got to spend time with my boyfriend with my head on his chest as he hugged me as tight as he could and that is all that matters. 

But now he’s leaving and he will be returning to his insane job. He will be traveling for days at a time and at a moment’s notice, leaving me to stress over his well-being and safety. That’s a feeling that I don’t miss. I shake my head at my own intrusive thoughts, pulling away from my peaceful boyfriend. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and bury my face in my hands, squeezing my eyes shut as the horrible images of Spencer in the hospital resurface in my brain. I'm not even the one with the eidetic memory and I can still vividly remember how broken and weak he was after having three serious brushes with death in two days.

"Amelia?" I hear Spencer's voice behind me, the bed dipping as he rolls over. "What's wrong?"

I hastily wipe my cheeks and shake my head again, waving my hand. "Nothing, go back to bed."

I flinch when I feel Spencer's hand on my waist, his arms wrapping around my midsection, his chest pressing against my back so I'm sitting between his legs. "You're crying," his morning voice is undeniably sexy and raspy in my ear as he rests his chin against my shoulder. "Talk to me, please."

I place my hands on top of his where they rest on my stomach, intertwining our fingers and trying to remind myself that he's here and he's safe. But he won't be soon. He'll be off in the field and he'll be around the worst that society has to offer. People who kill without a second thought and don’t care if they take a federal agent and leave a sobbing, lovesick girlfriend behind. He faced three people like that and almost lost his life. It's a miracle he's even sitting here right now.

"Amelia?" He asks again, peering over my shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of my face. "Come on, talk to me. I don’t want you to cry."

"I just," I let my head fall back against his shoulder, wanting to be as close to him as possible, scooting my butt back until my body is completely flush against his, "I don't want you to go. I'm so scared you'll get hurt again and I can't- I don't wanna see you like that again, Spence, I can't-"

“Okay, okay, come here,” Spencer pats my thigh and scoots back against the headboard, opening his arms for me. I crack a smile, silently crawling into his arms and curling up against his chest. I can hear the steady rhythm of Spencer’s heartbeat in my ear, calming me down to the point where I almost fall back asleep. But maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. I’ll fall asleep on top of Spencer, he won’t have the heart to move my sleeping body, and then he has to stay home from work. It’s a win for everyone, except maybe Spencer’s boss.

"I'm gonna come home to you," Spencer whispers, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. "I always have. I mean, I got shot and I still came home, right?"

"Spencer, acknowledging your gunshot wound isn’t helping,” I lift my head and my eyes wander to his neck, seeing the mark that's there, no longer a wound or even a scab, just a scar that will likely take a long time to fade, if it does at all. "I’m always gonna worry. I still worry about what types of situations you'll get yourself into and how many people are dying and if you're in danger and if someone is targeting you. I’ll always be worrying about you, except for the moments when you’re right next to me.”

"I know," Spencer sighs, brushing my hair behind my ears. His soft touch sets my skin on fire, and every time his lips touch my skin, I shutter. "I know it's hard and I'm sorry that you have to deal with this alone. But you know that I'll call you as much as I can to check in while I'm away. I might not even get a case today and then we can be together tonight! You never know what could happen.”

"I just-" I pause again, resting my forehead against Spencer’s chin, breathing in the lingering scent of the body wash that I’ve caught sight of in his bathroom. I try to breathe it in as much as possible so I can remember it when he leaves, “I love you. I love you so much.”

Spencer grins. Every time I recite those beautiful three words to him, even after six weeks of telling him at least four times every day, he stills grins in the most adorable way. "And I love you too. Don't worry your pretty little head about me, though. Go to your studio and make some more of your beautiful art. You haven't exercised your creative side properly in almost six weeks and you need to get it all out."

"Text me," I completely ignore what he says, far too wrapped up in my anxiety. "Just text me if you get a case and text me all the time if you can't call me, just so I know-"

"I always do," Spencer cuts me off. "Don't stress out too much, Lia. I've got a gun and my team, that's all I need. I'll come home to you, don't worry."

My bottom lip quivers as more tears threaten to fall, and I grip Spencer's tee shirt in my fists. "Can I have a kiss?"

"Course," he lures me closer, pressing his lips to mine in a feather-light kiss. For whatever reason, the simple kiss calms me down. For a millisecond, it makes me forget that he's about to run into the belly of the beast yet again. The pain returns when we pull away, and I wish I could keep kissing him forever to keep him in my arms and protect him from the horrors he is about to go see. "Alright," Spencer sighs, his hands falling to my waistline, "I've gotta start getting ready or we won't have time to get coffee."

“And tea!”

“Yes, and tea for you.”

I pull away and climb out of his bed, running my fingers through my hair as I reach for my bag, stuffed full of clothes, setting it on the bed. Spencer silently climbs out and heads into the bathroom to shower, leaving me in the bedroom to change. My hands are still shaking but I try to calm myself. Spencer seems calm so why shouldn't I be? He’s the trained federal agent here, so I have nothing to worry about, right? He knows what he’s doing and he’s been doing this job for years. I don’t need to worry. Please stop worrying.

I'm tightening my belt just as Spencer is coming out of the bathroom fully dressed, running his fingers through his wet hair. He looks criminally attractive but I don't let myself get distracted for long, tying my shirt up and running my fingers through my curls to tame them just a bit. I sit on the bed and tie on my tennis shoes, seeing Spencer clipping on his watch, always over the cuff of his sleeve. When he cranes his neck to get his tie on, I see the scar again and I have to tear my eyes away before I start crying for the third time this morning.

"Are you gonna be here when I come back?" Spencer asks, moving to stand in front of me, my eyes raking up his body until our eyes lock. He’s smiling, almost like he’s excited to go back to the job that got him addicted to drugs and the job that got him shot twice, and the job that gives him constant nightmares.

"I can be," I stand, giving him a weak smile as I reach for my overnight backpack. I wordlessly toss open the bedroom door and pick up Spencer's messenger bag, handing it over to him as he follows me. I don't even wait for him before I leave the apartment, hearing him closing and locking the door behind us.

Spencer only catches up to me when we get onto the sidewalk outside, the welcomed warmth from the sun soaking into our skin. He captures my hand in his and doesn't let go, intertwining our fingers and squeezing. "Why do I get the feeling that you're mad at me? Did I say something?"

I tug on his hand and he comes closer, allowing me to rest my head on his arm as we walk, our pace slowing a bit. I don't have the proper words to express the utter fear I'm feeling. I've lost the people I love before and I can't let that happen again. If I lose Spencer then there's no reason for me to be on this earth anymore. I can’t keep dealing with the heartbreak. I've never loved anyone the way I love him and if that gets ripped away from me yet again, I don't know what I'd do. I can’t lose my family and the love of my life and expect to continue living my life. I wouldn’t be able to. 

"No," I answer his question weakly. I feel Spencer's eyes on me but I don't dare to look up at him, despite the way I crave to be comforted by the beauty of his eyes. "I’m not- no.”

"I don't want to go to work with you like this. I don't wanna leave you upset," he brings our hands up, pressing his lips to my knuckles. "And," he sighs dramatically, loudly, dropping our hands back down to our sides, "love, if this is too much for you and my job is too much, you don't have to stick around.”

I instantly freeze, my feet melting into the concrete sidewalk. "Are you breaking up with me? B-Because you think I can't handle the baggage that comes with your job?"

"No, no," Spencer shakes his head, standing in front of me and grabbing my cheeks. His forwardness would surprise me any day, but I’m stunned that he is willing to act like this and show any level of PDA on a public sidewalk while everyone is rushing to work. "I don't wanna break up with you, god no. But I love you and if you're in pain because of what I'm doing then I don't want you to go through that.”

"I don't wanna leave you. I'm not in pain, Spencer," I reach my trembling fingers forward and place them at his waistline, clutching the soft fabric of his cardigan. "I've lost people. And I love you so much. I don't wanna lose you like I've lost everyone else in my life but I don't wanna leave you. That's the last thing I wanna do. I just want you to be safe and I want you to come home to me, that's all I want."

"I will, I always will. But like I said, just go to your studio and focus on your work. I’ll text and call when I can, but I want you to worry about yourself. Do all the work you didn’t get to do when you were taking care of me. And thanks for that, by the way." Spencer brings his lips down to mine again, thumbs brushing against my cheekbones. I hold him there for longer than we probably should be kissing on a public sidewalk, but as people rush past us on their commute to work, I keep my focus on him. "Let's go, come on, I need my coffee and you need your tea."

Spencer grabs my hand again and pulls me along the sidewalk, dodging hurrying businessmen in tight suits. I'm glad Spencer doesn't wear suits to work, not like his unit chief. I'm sure he'd look incredibly attractive in them, but I like his style. Focus, Amelia. Your boyfriend is about to return to the job that got him shot. Stop thinking about his outfits and his sense of style. Get your head out of your ass.

Spencer orders both of our drinks and then brings me over to our normal booth, and I usually sit across from him, but today, I sit on the same side as him. He doesn't seem to mind, though, as he pulls his messenger bag off his shoulder and places his hand on my thigh. I lean my head onto his shoulder and let my eyes close, letting the warmth from the cup in my hand and Spencer’s hand on my leg spread to the rest of my body. 

"Are you nervous to go back?" I finally ask the question that's been on the tip of my tongue all morning. Well, maybe it’s not the only question I’ve been dying to ask. There are a million other questions that I could ask and none of them would feel right. Not to say that this one is the right one, but this one seems natural.

Spencer hums. "I try not to let myself get nervous because then I make mistakes and I can't afford mistakes. I block out nerves. I'm not happy to be leaving you because I've loved spending six weeks with you, but I'm excited to be getting back to work and-"

"Helping people," I finish for him. Spencer nods and goes quiet again. My other questions are swirling around in my head and as much as I tell myself to shut them out, they don’t stop. "I have another question. It’s an, um, an odd question."

"And what would that be?”

"I know I'm not the profiler here," he chuckles as I shift around to face him, "but I've noticed that you never wear your gun around me. You wear your holster but not your gun. When I go to see Penelope at the BAU, everyone has their guns, even outside the buildings. Your team had their guns in the hospital, even Mike always had his gun on him at home. Why don't you?"

Spencer hums once more, taking a moment to think through his answer. The silence makes me regret asking the question. I’m dying to know, but I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. Is Spencer uncomfortable? Is that why he’s quiet? "I don't think I really need to. I don't feel the need to subject you to the constant presence of a gun.”

"It doesn't bother me," I tell him softly, tracing my finger around the rim of my cup. I avoid eye contact. "I've seen worse than a gun. I can shoot a gun, did I tell you that?"

Spencer's eyebrows shoot up. "Um, no. You didn't tell me that. I want to ask why you know how to shoot a gun but I don’t think I want to know the answer.”

"I'm not that good at it," I take a sip of my piping hot tea, shrugging my shoulders in a way that is far too nonchalant for this conversation. "Mike taught me a few years ago. Self-defense and all. He actually came to me about it. I was the oldest kid in the house so if anything were to happen when he wasn’t around, I’d know how to shoot one of his spare guns."

Spencer gingerly places his cup on the table, pulling his hand away from my thigh and placing them in his lap. "Just because you know how to shoot a gun doesn't mean I have to go around, parading mine on my hip whenever you're around."

"Have you ever noticed," I ignore his insistence of my innocent, angel personality, "that I don't cool down my tea?"

Spencer taps his fingers against the table, not even looking at me. "Yeah, actually, I have noticed that."

I glance around the emptying cafe and notice that the booths around us are empty and nobody is in earshot. "When I did ‘bad things’ like get a snack during the night or come home thirty seconds late from school or ask what was for dinner, my dad used to hold me down, force open my mouth, pull out my tongue and hold it out, and pour hot sauce on it. It basically fried my tongue to the point where the heat from a cup of tea or coup doesn’t bother me. It’s nothing compared to what I’m used to. I spent my childhood getting hot sauce on my tongue and getting cigarette burns all over my body. I’ve done things and seen some pretty fucked up things throughout my life and, frankly, seeing a gun on your hip won't affect me more than seeing a tattoo of my dead brother on my arm will." 

Spencer grabs onto my arm, gentler than ever, tracing his fingers over a few tattoos- the ones I didn’t tell him about. With my spare hand, I grab my tea and take another sip. “Those five are for my foster homes.”

“Your foster homes? You hated them. Why would you get them tattooed?” 

“Because they’re apart of me,” I shrug one more time and twist my arm around in Spencer’s grasp. “The cactus is from when I lived in Arizona. Pretty self-explanatory. The book is from one house I lived in right next to a library and I would sneak out at night and break into the book drop off bin and read the books that people were returning. The bumblebee is from a house with a wasps nest in the backyard, and it’s where I found out I’m allergic to bee stings. The turtle is from when the house had a pet turtle. And the heart is from a house I lived in where they had this weird metal replica of a heart, and my foster brother at the time broke it and we all got beat up for it. So there, now you know about all my tattoos and about most of my shitty childhood.” Just in time, the alarm on my phone goes off. "You've gotta go," I collect my cup and my phone, slipping out of the booth and stomping towards the door.

Spencer follows after me quickly, his long legs carrying him over to me at record speed. And despite the negative energy radiating off of me, Spencer laces his pinky with mine as I start to walk towards the train. Our laced pinkies are such a tiny gesture but it fills my body with so much love and warmth that my ears tear up. Spencer doesn’t say anything about my bad attitude or the new information I just blurted out. He just pulls me closer to his body and swings our arms between us. When we get to the metro station, Spencer doesn’t make any effort to go down the stairs. He wraps me in his arms and holds me as tight as he can.

"Be careful, okay?" I tuck my face into the crook of his neck and inhale his scent, an intoxicating combination of coffee, peppermint, and some musky cologne. Spencer kisses the top of my head and squeezes my waist. "I love you so, so much. I don't want another call from Penelope that you're in the hospital, okay? No more of that.”

Spencer nods against me. “No more of that,” he confirms.

“Do you promise?”

"Of course, I promise."

///

SPENCER

///

It's refreshing to finally be back in the BAU after six weeks off with the girl I love, but my mind is racing and part of me can't even enjoy being back. The elevator doors open and I easily spot Morgan and JJ chatting in the bullpen through the glass doors, but I take a sharp right. I knock quickly on Garcia's door, waiting to hear her shout before opening.

She gasps and grins when I enter, jumping out of her chair to come give me a hug. "It's so good to see you, Spencer! How are you feeling? How's Amelia? How was it spending six weeks together?"

"I'm fine, she's amazing, and six weeks off was great and I'm happy to be back. But I need you to do something for me." I speak quickly, far too scatterbrained to hold off on my train of thought.

"Oh," she looks a bit stunned as she nods and hurries back to her computer. "I'm at your service, Boy Wonder."

"Okay," I lean over her chair with a heavy sigh as the guilt starts to weigh on me. "I, um, I need you to look up the case that Amelia was involved in."

Garcia whips her head back to me, her eyes wide. "She told you about that?"

"Yeah, she did. And I need you to look it up."

"But why?" Garcia whines as she types in Amelia's name. "I feel icky when I look up my friends and family. I don't like poking into their lives. I already unsealed the court documents from when Rossi made me look them up and I felt absolutely horrible about that."

I lean in closer to read the screen when a whole load of documents and paperwork pop up. "Alright. Damien Kelsey was arrested by Gideon and Rossi, and Amelia was taken to a foster home. He was found guilty on thirty-seven counts of murder on women but he was-"

"Oh my god," Garcia's eyes widen, her hands stilling over her keyboard.

"Print all this information out for me," I demand without meaning to sound so rude, but I barely even give it a second thought as I go storming out of Garcia's lair. I throw open the doors to the bullpen, my eyes locked on one particular closed door. My blood boils hotter than ever before and my hands ball up into fists. Morgan and JJ both greet me from their desks but I ignore them, instead throwing open Rossi's door and then slamming it closed.

Rossi, understandably, looks alarmed as I enter. I can't help the anger that bubbles up in me, but I don't even think it's aimed at him. I think I'm just angry at the world. I just want to wrap Amelia up in my arms and protect her in my arms. From the moment I met her, I just wanted to protect her. I wanted to keep her out of my insane job and to put her in a bubble of innocence and happiness. But knowing that her innocence has already been tainted and her childhood was ruined makes my heart hurt more than it already does.

"Reid?" Rossi stands from his desk, brows furrowed. "What's going on?"

"Damien Kelsey.”

Rossi sighs, relaxing back into his chair and crossing his arms. "So Amelia told you about her father."

"Yeah, she did. But she didn’t tell me,” I slam a stack of papers on the desk in front of him, “this. And this seems pretty damn important.”

"Reid, take a seat, please," Rossi states, gesturing to the chair across from his desk. But when I don't, he knows it's not worth it to continue to harp on it. "I’m aware of this and it’s being dealt with.”

“It’s being dealt with? For over a decade?” I snap. “This is something that should be done already!”

A knock on the door interrupts us, and Garcia pops her head in. "Sorry to end this very loud conversation, but I have some questions about what dessert I should be bringing tomorrow. Chocolate chip cookies or apple fritters?”

I whip my head back to Rossi, pointing at the papers on his desk. “This conversation isn’t over.”

AMELIA

I took Spencer’s advice and went straight to my art studio after he disappeared into the train station. I desperately needed something to distract me and working usually does the trick. So I rush a few blocks over and throw on an apron, getting to work. I haven’t done much work, other than simple drawings, the last few weeks and it’s nice to get back to the thing I love. I guess that’s how Spencer feels about going back to work today. Maybe I should have been more accepting and supportive of his return to the BAU. 

I lose myself in my work, tossing paint at a canvas and creating everything I possibly can in the shortest amount of time. I’m not sure when my time here could be interrupted so I try to get all of my thoughts onto canvas before I have to leave. I’m there for hours and hours before taking a break even crosses my mind. So I collapse into the bean bag chair in the corner of the room and take a break for the first time all day.

Now, Penelope Garcia is an absolute master at what she does. I’ve seen her in action a few times and I’ve heard plenty of stories from Spencer about how she solves a case and finds an unsub just in time to save a life. Penelope Garcia has never been to my studio before but I become momentarily convinced that she broke in and installed cameras to watch me because the second I sit down to take a break, she calls me.

“Hello, my love,” I greet her sweetly. “How is going at the BAU today?”

“Hello, Girl Wonder! It is going great at the BAU today. So far, it’s been a paperwork day and I’ve been bored so I wanted to call you to check up on my new best friend.”

Oh, thank god. It’s a paperwork day. Hopefully, it’ll stay that way and I’ll get to spend the night with Spencer. 

“Oh, that’s sweet, Penny. I’m doing pretty well. I’m at my studio right now and working on some new pieces. I haven’t really been able to work lately so I’m cramming all my thoughts into a few hours,” I take a glance around my studio, or more specifically, at the paint splatters on the wall and the brushes on the floor, “or actually, just making a total mess.”

“I’m not the best painter so you should teach me how to paint. Oh! Oh! I know! You should teach a paint night for the BAU! That would be so much fun. And maybe you could do it at Rossi’s dinner party tomorrow!”

“Dinner party?”

“Oh, yeah,” Penelope’s voice drops slightly. “Spencer didn’t tell you about that?”

“No, he didn’t.” A pout creeps onto my face. Maybe I really, truly annoyed him this morning with my excessive worrying. I’m only trying to protect him, he has to know that. Or there’s a possibility that he doesn’t want me at the dinner. He could want to hang out with his coworkers without me. After all, we did spend six weeks straight together. Maybe he needs a little break, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But it still hurts a little that he didn’t tell me about it, whether he decides to invite me or not. 

“Well, Rossi only invited us today and we all know Boy Wonder isn’t fond of technology, so maybe he’s planning on asking you in person. I wouldn’t worry about it too much. But, hey! That paint night. What do you think?”

SPENCER

I drag my feet up the steps of the metro, into the chilled air of the night, taking a quick glance of my surroundings with my tired eyes. The moonlight creates the path back to my apartment, and the closer I get, the more excited I become to getting into bed. Despite it being a paperwork day, I had a mountain of work to do that didn’t get done while I was on medical leave, and it needed to be finished asap. So it’s just passing eight o’clock when I drag myself up the stairs to my apartment, constantly pulling the falling strap of my satchel up my arm. The last time it falls, I let my bag fall completely onto the floor, fishing through the pocket to find my keys. 

I enter my dark apartment and throw my satchel aside and hang up my jacket, locking up my gun in a safe and kicking off my shoes. I drag my feet into the kitchen, hopefully for some dinner, flicking the light switch as I walk in. I have every intention of heading to the fridge but first, I find a container of food from my favorite restaurant on the table. Beside it, a note from Amelia.

I ordered dinner for us before I knew you were going to be late, so this is yours. I’m going to try and stay up for when you return but I’m really tired so I might not make it. So if I’m knocked out by the time you get home, then I love you and I missed you a lot today!! Now come give me attention!!!!!!!

Love, Lia <3

My socked feet are silent against the hardwood as I tiptoe into the living room, finding my sleeping girlfriend on the couch, wrapped up in a plaid blanket with her feet sticking out of the bottom. Her laptop is on the coffee table in front of her, displaying the title screen for a show called Lucifer that she had been telling me about the other day. I watched a few episodes with Amelia during my medical leave but I couldn’t get over the unlikeliness that a biblical figure could have the powers to slow time on Earth or that a human could have a baby with a biblical figure that isn’t even a human. Amelia banned me from watching the show again.

I crouch down beside the couch and bring my hand to Amelia’s cheek, stroking my thumb along her cheekbone. "Amelia," I whisper, only seeing her eyes flutter in the slightest, "sweet girl, wake up."

She hums, scrunching up her nose, and before coming to, eyelids fluttering again before opening. She smiles softly, wiggling her hips to turn to me. "Hi, baby."

"Hi," I whisper back. "Come to bed. I’m tired and I wanna go to sleep too. Don't sleep on the couch."

"Did you eat?" Amelia murmurs, her hand trailing up to rest atop mine. She twists her head and presses a kiss to my palm, pulling my hand down so she can clutch it against her chest. "I left you-"

"Shh, shh," I hush her softly. "I'm really tired. So let's just go to bed, okay? C'mon, pretty girl."

Amelia smiles lazily, sitting up and letting me push the blanket away from her. "I like when you call me that."

I chuckle, standing and holding my hands out for her. I pull her off the couch and right into my arms, tucking her head under my chin and wrapping my arms around her shoulders. "Pet names are usually your thing."

I lead her off to my bedroom and she goes crawling into bed, leaving me to change into my pajamas. I do that as quickly as I can and then slip under the duvet with Amelia. She immediately scoots backward until her back is pressed to my front and until she’s almost completely on my pillow. I move her hair aside so it’s not in my face and press a kiss to the side of her neck, and she lets out a cute noise in response. 

“I’m sorry if I annoyed you this morning,” Amelia whispers, reaching behind her to place her hand on my cheek. Just like she had done to me, I turn my head and press a kiss to Amelia’s palm. “I was just worried about you. And I’m sorry for being an asshole when I just blurted out all that stuff about my foster homes and my dad.”

“You weren’t annoying at all. I know you were worried. And you weren’t being an- well, you know what. You were worried and anxious for me and I understand that.” Amelia just hums in response, nodding softly against my chest. “But hey, are you busy tomorrow night?”

“Asking me on a date, Doctor?”

“Almost,” I chuckle. “Rossi is having the team over for dinner and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

“Penelope told me about this today. She called me,” Amelia mumbles. She rolls over to face but tucks her head into the crook of my neck, leaving a few kisses right over my pulse point. “I’d love to go with you.”

“Great. You can meet our new team member. Her name is Kate, she’s pretty awesome.”

“I’m looking forward to it. Is there a dress code?” I laugh again, pressing a kiss to Amelia’s forehead that makes her join my giggles. “It’s important, Spence! I can’t show up in heels if everyone else is wearing sweats. That is my worst nightmare.”

“Of course it is,” I quip. “Text Penelope and ask her. I’ll probably just wear the same boring outfits I wear everyday.”

“Hey,” Amelia finally opens her eyes again and looks up at me, “I love the way you dress. It’s not boring. You’re fucking adorable with your button ups and cardigans and ties and fun socks.”

I ignore the sentiment behind her statement and instead furrow my eyebrows. “You call them button ups?”

I can barely see her face in the darkness of my bedroom but I can still make out her expressions, and she furrows her eyebrows right back at me. “Well, what do you call them?”

“Button downs.”

“You’re wrong. That’s so wrong, baby.”

“I can’t remember the last time someone told me I was wrong, and I remember everything.” And this time, I see the corners of Amelia’s lips tip upwards, and an adorable smile graces her face. “But yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Damn right I am, Doctor 187.”

///

"Come on, Amelia! We're already late!" I call up the stairs where my girlfriend is hastily getting ready for dinner.

"Coming!" She calls back, but her voice sounds distant. She has been telling me for an hour that she will be ready in five minutes but clearly, she hasn’t been telling me the truth.

While I'm still waiting for her to finish getting dressed, I wander into the living room to take the record out of the player and tuck it away safely. I make sure that it goes back in the correct place because I don’t want to face Amelia if I mess up her record organization. Amelia's apartment has become like a second home to me over the last few months of our relationship and I’m so grateful to have a safe place like this. Whenever I step foot through the door, I’m enveloped in a certain warmth that only Amelia can provide for me. The plants and the fuzzy blankets and the records that are constantly playing and the artwork on the walls and the balcony with yellow Adirondack chairs and, of course, the girl that the apartment comes with make for the perfect escape from my job. I always thought that my apartment was enough of an escape, and then I came to Amelia’s apartment for Christmas and suddenly, I never wanted to leave.

Amelia comes barreling down the stairs a moment later, her black heeled boots in her hand. She pauses at the door of the stairs and smiles nervously at me, holding her hands out as if to present herself to me. "Do I look okay?"

I don't even know why she asks because she always looks absolutely stunning, no matter what her outfit is. She's wearing a simple black dress that hugs her body in the most beautiful ways, showing off her array of colorful tattoos. She is, of course, wearing her butterfly necklace and her clusters of rings, nails painted yellow again. Her blonde hair is straightened and she has a scarf tied in her hair like a headband with a few pieces of hair pulled out to frame her face. I swear, whenever I see her, I'm speechless. I don't think I've ever seen a more beautiful human in my life.

"You look gorgeous, love, you always do," I compliment, holding my hand out for her to grab onto so she doesn’t tip over when putting her shoes on, "but aren't you gonna get cold when it gets dark?"

Amelia shrugs and swats her hand at me nonchalantly, grabbing her backpack and camera from the staircase banister. "I'll be fine. Let's get going. I can't believe you're driving! This is so rare!" She throws a smile over her shoulder when she walks past me, leaning over to press a kiss to my cheek. "If Penelope lied to me and there's no wine here tonight-"

"There's gonna be wine," I insist, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the building. "Rossi always has wine."

///

"You made it!" Rossi grins as he pulls open his front door. "And you've brought Amelia. Good choice," he pulls the two of us in for a hug, prompting Amelia to compliment him on his house. "Alright, you two, into the backyard. Everyone else is already there."

I give Amelia a look as if to shame her for taking so long to get dressed, and she just shoves my shoulder. She murmurs something under her breath that I don’t quite hear, but I wouldn’t have had time to ask anyway because we’ve joined everyone in the backyard a moment.

"Yes!" Garcia immediately cheers, running over as fast as she can on her ridiculously high heels and pulling Amelia into a hug. "I knew it! I knew you'd make it and Reid would tell you about this and you'd get to drink lovely wine with us. I knew it!"

Amelia laughs as she hugs Penelope back, pulling away only to be pulled back in. "It's nice to see you too, P."

"You've gotta meet everyone!" Penelope exclaims and almost spills liquid from the glass I'm realizing is in her hand. I find myself wondering how much she's already had to drink. Amelia glances over her shoulder at me desperately as Garcia drags her away and over to the long table that's set up. She's introduced formally to the team, yet again, along with Savannah, Beth, Sam, Will, and Chris. And of course, she takes the time to introduce herself to Kate. She's always been good at talking to people, unlike me, so a glass of wine is thrust in her hand and she's enveloped in conversation. But I linger on the porch, just admiring how easily she bonds with everyone and how her face lights up when Savannah cracks a joke.

"How's it going, Pretty Boy?" Morgan is at my side, patting my shoulder with a teasing smirk that I saw all day today. He spent the last two days asking me how my medical leave was and if I finally sealed the deal with Amelia. His prying would have considered invasive if I wasn’t so used to it already. "You brought your girl."

"And she's already been taken away from me," I cross my arm, watching her take a long sip of her wine before turning her head to Hotch and Beth. "At least she's getting along with everyone."

"Yeah," Morgan sighs and the mood instantly drops. "Listen, I don't know what happened with the whole situation where Rossi recognized her and-"

"Morgan-" I try to interject, but he shakes his head.

"Kid, I don't wanna know, that's what I'm saying. You two seem to be over it, and if you're happy, then I'm happy for you. You seem to trust her so that’s all that matters. She seems like a good girl for you. She makes you happy."

I turn my gaze back to her and my heart flutters as she twirls a strand of her hair around her finger, holding her wine glass in her hand delicately. She looks too beautiful for anyone’s good in her stupid, tight black dress and heels that make her legs look as long as mine. "She does."

"I gotta be honest," he chuckles lightly. "I didn't expect you to shoot for a girl with a nose piercing and two arms of tattoos but I'm not complaining."

"Uncle Spencer!" Our conversation is fully stopped by a little voice, and Henry comes barreling over, having broken away from JJ's hold. My face lights up as he comes jumping into my arms, crouching down to catch him. Morgan pats my shoulder again, heading to the table to leave us alone.

"Hi, Henry!" I exclaim, hugging him tightly. "I feel like I haven't seen you in forever."

Henry giggles, his head falling onto my shoulder in the most adorable way. "I missed you, Uncle Spencer."

"I missed you too, Henry." I smile, ruffling his hair. He pushes my hands away with a giggle and pushes his own long hair behind his ears. "Did you meet my girlfriend?"

Henry's eyes widen as he lifts his head. "You have a girlfriend?"

I hold in my laugh at his astonishment as I nod, bringing his attention to where Amelia is now standing with Penelope and Sam, chatting away. "That's her, right there. With the blonde hair and the black dress. Her name is Amelia."

Henry lifts his head even more to get a good look at her, and just as he does, Amelia turns her head to look back at us. As she does, Henry gasps and whips his head back to face me. "She saw me!" His eyes widen and he puts his tiny hands on my cheeks. I mimic his surprised expression and I see Amelia excusing herself from her conversation to walk back over to us. Henry turns his head slowly to peer back at her, and when he sees that she's walking to us, he gasps again. "She's coming!"

Amelia gets to us with a huge smile towards Henry, setting her glass of wine on the table. "Hi!"

"Say hi, bud," I prompt as he drops his hands back to my shoulders again. Henry gives me a nervous glance and only turns his head slightly towards Amelia.

"Hi, Amelia," he says, waving just a tiny bit.

"Hi, Henry," Amelia grins. "I've heard a lot about you from Spencer. He tells me that you're the coolest kid he knows."

Henry's eyes light up and a small smile plays at his lips. "He did?"

"Oh yeah, he totally did," she nods confidently. I have to admit, I've never seen her interact with children before, but I could watch this all day. Where did her love of children even come from? Did it come from Cody? Or did it come from protecting her foster siblings from abusive parents? 

Henry is silent for a moment and I can tell he's noticing Amelia's tattoos. He points at her arm. "You've got drawings all over your arms!"

Amelia looks down at her arms as if she's forgotten she has tattoos, nodding "I do. Super cool, right?" Henry nods. "I'm an artist, I drew some of these. So that means I draw and paint pictures as a job.”

"That's awesome!" Henry exclaims, his face lighting up even brighter than before. "Could you draw me some pictures?"

"Of course I could!" Amelia immediately exclaims. "I always have pencils and a sketchbook with me. Let's go, bud," she gives me a cute smile and I place him on the floor, letting the two go off on their own. I watch them for just a moment as Amelia grabs her backpack to pull out her pencils and sketchbook before finding a good place to sit with Henry.

"Wow," JJ is the next person to materialize at my side, "I've never seen him gravitate towards someone so quickly. And I've never seen him leave your side so quick," The two of us watch as Jack runs up and joins the two of them, sitting on Amelia's unoccupied side and peering over her arm at her sketchbook. She greets Jack and then gets back to work, listening to every demand the boys have over what she should draw. "C'mon, Spence, come join everyone."

JJ grabs my arm and drags me over to the table with everyone else, sitting me down beside her. It's nice to see everyone outside of work every once in a while, especially after such a stressful stretch of a few months. I'm not one to admit that I need relaxation but I definitely needed a night like this with everyone. I especially needed a night with my friends and my girlfriend getting along. My biggest fear is that everyone on the team would reject her after her moment with Rossi. But they seem to love her, even the kids love her, and I’m just so relieved.

After a little while, the boys come sprinting over, waving their drawings in their hands as they rave to their parents. Amelia returns to me with a proud smile, claiming the seat next to me and scooting as close as she can. She leans into my chest and I leave a kiss on her temple, and the purr-like sound that she makes brings a smile to my face.

"Dinner," Rossi announces, "is served."

///

"Have you ever played rummy?" I drag my eyes up and down Amelia's body as she comes to sit next to me after helping Rossi with the cleanup of plates. She's got her second glass of wine in her hand and my jacket wrapped around her shoulders, hair cascading down her back in gentle curls. She starting scooting closer to me during dinner, and it took me all of a millisecond to realize that she was cold and when she told me that she was wrong about not needing a jacket, I happily gave her mine.

"No, actually. I haven't. Will you teach me?" She presses her face into my arm, one of her hands clutching her glass of wine and the other finding home on my thigh. I have to resist the urge to squirm around when her thumb strokes my leg atop my pants. I’ve noticed that she has been nursing her second glass of wine for quite a while so it’s unlikely she is too drunk to realize the effect her touch is having on me. But she doesn’t really pay any attention to it when I shift my position in my chair.

"Yeah, of course," I clear my throat and grab our little stack of cards, spreading them out in my hands. I look down at Amelia to find she’s already looking at me. Her eyes are half shut and her lips are pouted just slightly, enough to make it necessary for me to lean down and kiss her. "And you've got the best teacher, too."

"Pretty boy's banned from casinos in, as I remember it, Las Vegas, Laughlin, and Parump," Morgan interjects, earning a slap on the arm from Savannah for interrupting.

"So we need to be collecting cards based on the rounds," I tell her and she nods. "For the first round, we need to sets of threes, get it? We need two sets of three cards with the same number, any suit, red or black."

"Not too hard," she takes a sip of her drink and starts silently arranging the cards in my hands as I've instructed. I go on to explain the concept of taking cards out of turn and then how to lay down cards and then how to win a round. She's nodding but I'm not sure if she's retaining any of this information, but I could win this game blindfolded with my hands tied behind my back so it's not a big deal. All I’m worried about is Amelia keeping her hands on me and getting her home soon.

The game starts and we take the lead immediately, but it’s not like anyone is surprised. And it takes about an hour but, sure enough, Amelia and I win rummy. The win is followed by rolled eyes and groans, and a few stolen kisses between us when everyone starts cleaning up. It's odd, I think, to have someone to be affectionate with during a team dinner. I've spent years being alone at team dinners and I've watched everyone with their significant others and wished I could have that. But now I've got the most amazing girl at my side who I'm head over heels in love with who I'm certain I'm gonna have for the rest of my life.

"Spence?" Amelia's soft voice breaks me out of my lovestruck daze. She places her empty wine glass in the sink beside me, pulling my jacket tighter around her shoulders. "Are we leaving?"

I smile, nodding as I run my hands up and down her arms. "Yeah," I dig into my pocket and hand her my keys, "get in the car. I've gotta ask Rossi a work question and I'll be right out. Don't drive away.”

“I won’t,” she giggles, going up on her toes to kiss me. Her lips taste like wine and her tongue tastes like chocolate and it’s such an intoxicating taste that I kiss her like we’re not in the middle of Rossi’s kitchen. Amelia’s hands come up to my stomach, grasping my shirt for a split second before she pulls away. Her hands come up to my face and her thumb swipes away a little bit of lip gloss from the corner of my mouth before she abruptly turns on her heel and struts away. I watch her hips sway when she walks, all the way until she gets to JJ and Henry, saying goodbye and exchanging phone numbers with the ladies of my team.

Once Amelia is out of my sight, I make my way down the hallway and into Rossi’s office, closing the door behind me.

AMELIA

I collapse into the passenger seat of Spencer’s car, putting the keys in the ignition and turning the heat up. I tug my shoes off and toss them onto the floor, spreading out my toes and stretching them out for the first time in hours. The driver side door opens a second later and Spencer slips in, watching me massage my feet for a second. “I don’t know why you insist on wearing those everywhere if they just make your feet hurt.”

“Because they complete the whole outfit, bubs,” I sass right back at him as we both put on our seatbelts. “Are we going back to my apartment or yours?”

“Yours, if that’s okay. I have my go-bag so I can change before work tomorrow,” Spencer puts the car into drives and speeds off. I can’t take my eyes off of him when he drives. The way his biceps flex as he grips the wheel or the way he elongates his neck when he looks over his shoulder to check for oncoming cars. 

When he stops at a red light, he reaches over and puts his hand on my thigh, the same way I had done to him during cards. Spencer smiles over at me with the most innocent look, and it almost takes my breath away. I open my mouth to speak but he starts driving before I can say anything. His hand tightens and releases its grip every few seconds, and by the time we arrive at my apartment, I’m barely able to sit straight. I practically trip out of the car and hurry upstairs, Spencer hot on my heels. 

The tension that we’ve been building the last few hours is looming over us, and as we stroll up the stairs to my bedroom, I can feel Spencer staring me down. I do what I can to ignore his burning gaze but the attention is addicting and it feels involuntary when I sway my hips in the same way that got him a little too excited before. 

Once we reach the top step, Spencer’s hand grasp onto my waistline and he pulls me into his chest. He ducks his head to place a kiss on the side of my neck, already reaching to pull his jacket off of my body. “Is this okay?” He murmurs, lips brushing against my skin.

“Yes,” I roll my shoulders back to let the jacket fall to the floor, then I twist around in Spencer’s arms to start pulling at his shirt. I tug him towards the bed and fall backwards, bringing him down with me. He catches himself before he bares all of his weight on me, sitting up on his knees and staing down at me with an intensity I’ve never seen before.

“Are you sure this is okay? I know you were drinking tonight and I don’t want to take advantage.”

“I’m not drunk and you’re not taking advantage,” I grab the back of his neck and pull him into a kiss, feeling him shuffle around to undo the buttons of his shirt and toss it onto the ground. His shoes, socks, and belt follow, and when he is almost completely undressed, he pulls away from my lips. 

His fingers trail up my thgihs and to the hem of my dress, slowly pushing it upwards. My breath hitches as the dress gets to my hips, and Spencer immediately stops. “Do you not want me to take your dress off? I can leave it on.”

“No, well, I-”

“No?”

“Yes!” I place my hands on Spencer’s shoulders and take a deep breath, closing my eyes for a moment. Spencer’s hands move from the hem of my dress to my waistline. “I just, well, I usually keep a shirt or a sweater on when I have sex. It’s just-”

“You don’t have to take your clothes off if you don’t want to. We don’t even need to continue if you’re uncomfortable,” Spencer leans down to press a kiss to my nose, and that tiny act brings a smile to my face. “I love you.”

“I love you,” I parrot his sweet words, leaning up on my elbows to peck his lips. “I trust you.” It’s more of a statement for me then for Spencer. I just needed to reassure myself that this is my Spencer. My Spencer who stumbled over his words when we first met and my Spencer who still sometimes asks just to kiss me. He’s not like the other assholes I’ve dealt with. He’s special.

So I wiggle from under Spencer and stand at the foot of the bed. I’m flustered for a second as Spencer lays on his back and tucks his hands behind his head, his chest completely on display for me. But I drag myself away from my thoughts and unzips my dress, letting it fall to the floor with trembling hands. And while I have the tiniest bit of confidence in myself, I unclip my bra and let it join my dress.

Spencer’s face grows into a grin, sitting up and grasping my waist again. His touch calms all my nerves and momentarily makes me forget that he’s the first man to ever see me like this. He’s the first man I’ve ever let myself be completely vulnerable around. He is the first person I let see my scars and my piercings and as terrifying as it is, his soft gaze makes my anxiety drift away.

He traces his fingers over one of the scars on my stomach, then drags it down to the silver jewel in my bellybutton. “I didn’t know you had piercings.” I reclaim my spot on Spencer’s lap and wrap my arms around his neck, bringing my lips down to his in an attempt to silence the conversation. It works because Spencer is shimmying out of his pants and tossing them haphazardly away.

Spencer flips us over so I’m pinned under him, his lips traveling down to the metal bars in my nipples. “You’re so beautiful, Lia.” He presses his lips to each and every scar on my stomach before grazing his teeth on the hem of my panties. “You can tell me if you ever want to stop, okay?”

I really and truly never thought I’d ever fall in love with someone like Spencer. I never thought that I’d fall in love at all. I thought that all men would be like the asshole I lost my virginity to, who laughed at my crooked bellybutton ring and asked countless questions about the scars that I didn’t want to talk about. 

I didn’t think I’d find anyone as amazing as the man above me right now. I didn’t think I’d find anyone as amazing as the man who kisses me with every thrust of his hips and brushes my hair behind my ears and listens to the way my body speaks. He double and triple checks that the condom is on correctly and asks if I need to use lube. He touches me in every spot that craves attention and switches our position when my legs cramp up. He intertwines our fingers and circles my clit when I ask him to. Spencer is the sweetest lover and, even when we’ve both worked our bodies to exhaustion, he rolls over and presses kisses over the hickeys he left on my neck. I try to lift myself on my elbows to clean myself up, but Spencer pushes my shoulders back down. He tells me to stay there, then returns from the bathroom with a towel to clean me up. 

“Are you okay?” Spencer wonders, pulling the duvet over the both of us after tossing the towel back into the bathroom. “Do you need anything?”

I roll onto my side and bury my face in Spencer’s neck, still struggling to catch my breath. “Spencer, no man has ever made me cum. Ever. Much less three times.”

Spencer furrows his eyebrows, pushing my hair out of my face and tracing his fingers over the bruises on my neck. “Was it too much?”

“No! Oh my god, no, dove. That was absolutely amazing,” I pull his hand away from my neck and kiss his palm, scooting as close as I possibly can to his body and soak up the warmth that radiates off of him. “I love you so, so much.”

“I love you too.” Spencer presses a kiss to my swollen lips and even though his body language does the opposite, he pulls away from me. “I hate to ruin the moment but you should go to the bathroom. You’re more likely to get a UTI and if a UTI goes untreated it can cause a kidney infection. It’s a common myth to think that a UTI can turn into an STI like chlamydia, but that’s completely not true.”

I hold back my giggle, running my fingers through Spencer’s sweaty hair, pushing it away from his eyes the same way he does to me. “Dirty talk is your strong suit.” 

“Is that sarcasm?” Spencer raises his eyebrows at me as I start to climb out of bed and wander towards the bathroom. “Was it not good?”

“I’m only joking, sweet face. You were amazing. The best I’ve ever had.”

Spencer grins the proudest grin I’ve ever seen. “Really?”

“I just told you that no man has ever made me cum but that you made me cum three times. Yes, you’re the best.”

“Hmm,” he hums, falling onto his back again and tucking his hands behind his head, “yeah. I’m the best.”

I lean over the bed one more time and kiss Spencer’s cheek. “You’re adorable, dove.”

TAGLIST

@bxnnywriting​ @babybloodstonebones​ @blameitonthenight21​ @feralreid​ @anepiphany​ @goldenalvez​ @reidscardigan​ @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​ @stxrryspencer​ @m0rcia​ @whollytaciturn​ @thegingerfairchild​ @yasminwashere​ @shrimpyblog​ @blakes-dictionxry​ @anamelessfacelessnerd​ @wonderlandhatter​ @whxt-to-write​ @jasongideonapologist​

[rose-tarts-and-angel-hearts]

Twisted Wonderland OCs; Ignatius Aquarii and Kelly Linette

{Art Credit: Pic crew}

Twisted from Maui from Moana

Name: Ignatius Aquarii

Name meaning: Ignatius; Means fiery one, I chose this name for him as Maui’s name meant “the god of fire” so I tried to choose a name somewhat similar ( hopefully)  Aquarii; I took Ignatius’s surname from one of the brightest stars in his zodiac sign; Aquarius, the star’s full name is ‘beta Aquarii’ 

 Age: 16 

Birthday: February 9  

Star sign: Aquarius 

Myers Briggs Personality Type: ESTP- A

Alinement: Chaotic good 

Gender: Male  

Height: 184cm (6ft)

Hair Color: White  #ffffff  with strands of very pale blue hair  #ebebff

Eye Colour: Very light blue  #94caff

Dominate Hand: Ambidextrous

Homeland: Land of Pyroxene   

Species: Human

School: Noble Swan University

Dorm: Riffmond

Year: 1st

Occupation: Student 

Club: Basketball club 

Best Subject:  Practical magic

Favorite Food: Sashimi, Unagi (freshwater eel), roast or fried chicken

Least Favorite Food: Fried Eggs 

Likes: tattoos, The beach, Telling/ Boasting about his achievements.

Dislikes: People who don’t walk the talk ( In other words, People who does not do what one said one could do, or would do, not just making empty promises. ), nagging

Hobby: Surfing, Playing the guitar, DJ’ing

Talents: Shadow puppets,  Arcade games, Lock picking

Unique Magic: ink world

Ignatius has the ability to send people into an ‘ink world’  in their minds, which leaves them in a vulnerable and dazed state. To explain in detail, the person Ignatius uses his unique magic on, turns unresponsive as if they are in a trance. ( For example In the song “ You’re welcome” Moana was in a different (?) world in her head while her body was spun into a cave so that Maui could steal her boat. )

Appearance

Ignatius is Tall and pretty muscular, with naturally tanned skin. He has light cyan-ish eyes that are slightly pointed and upturned, his hair is white with strands of very pale blue hair, that is brushed back, he has a short blue braid hanging down the right side of his face. Ignatius has many ear piercings and Tattoos, ( on his upper body, neck, chest, arms ) he proudly displays them by wearing a black singlet, and an unbuttoned white collared shirt that is slightly pulled down to show off the tattoos he got on his shoulder. He wears black cargo pants that are secured with a black belt  and are tucked into military boots. His purple dorm ribbon is tied on one of the belt loops (?). He also dons many silver rings and an enchanted charm bracelet made by Kelly. 

Personality

Ignatius gives off a rather..hmm what’s that word...oh oh! F-boy impression, as he’s always teasing and seems to not be serious about anything, but he’s actually quite a sweetheart, going out of his way to help people he considers friends, though he may be quite mischievous and tactless. Ignatius is rather boastful and egotistical, which would usually lead people like him into trouble since he’s a quite rash person,  but he doesn’t get into physical fights, he usually uses his unique magic to just embarrass the person in some way. Though Ignatius make act like a dumb dumb sometimes, he’s actually really smart, both street smart and academically, in terms of grades he comes in fourth place in his level. He can be rather perceptive too and will show care and concern for those he cares about, but mostly prefers to keep things fast-paced and silly rather than emotional or serious. 

Backstory

Ignatius’s mother remarried a wealthy business man a few years after Ignatius was born. ( Ignatius’s father passed away before he was born) As Ignatius’s step-father didn’t have any kids of his own, he doted a lot on Ignatius, thus spoiling him a lot. Ever since Ignatius was young he showed a lot of potential and talent of being a good wizard, thus receiving a lot of praise from his parents, teachers, and friends. This soon got to his head, and he became very arrogant and disrespectful towards people he considered ‘lower’ than himself, he lost a lot of friends in the process, and was out casted by most of them. At first Ignatius  acted like he was fine with people ignoring him, though he actually felt a bit lonely inside. Soon he grew tired of people out casting him but was too prideful to apologize, so he decided to play truant, his mindset was changed after meeting an ‘angel’ during one of his escapes.

Trivia

-Ignatius is ambidextrous but prefers to use his left hand.

-He has 10 ear piercings in total, and over 16 tattoos

-He got his first tattoo at 13 years old ( His mother screamed at him when she found out )

-He has 1 ‘magic tattoo’ on his arm of a mini him, Ignatius will ‘activate’ mini Ignatius to dance and perform on the other tattoos he has to entertain people.

-Kelly used to be the one who’ll braid his hair but since they’re in different dorms, he recently learned to do it himself.

-Ignatius is horrible at cooking thus he hates fried eggs as he doesn’t know how to control the heat, so his eggs always end up burnt.

-Ignatius would be in Scarabia if he went to NRC

{ART CREDIT: top-left to right; Drawing done by me ( I know it sucks..sorry for scaring your eyes), Picture from V roid Mobile, Picture from Pic crew. Middle-Left to right; Yerenica from seduce the villain’s father ( I thought they looked pretty similar! Hence why I used her photo here.), Kelly’s uniform link here!, Yerenica, Bottom-Left to right; V roid mobile, Yerenica, V roid mobile}

Name: Kelly Linette 

Name meaning: Kelly; Means warrior or Bright minded ( In Kelly’s case I wanted to utilize both meanings in her name, As I wanted her to be both smart and strong, someone who does not give up easily, and uses her wit and intelligence to solve problems.)   Linette; Means pretty one. The name is also derived from a songbird, the Linnet. ( I wanted to use this as her surname as I wanted her to be pretty  I wanted this to symbolize how she’s good at singing, like how linnet birds are known for their melodious voices.)

Age: 15 (She’s a year younger as she skipped a level/grade)

Myers Briggs Personality Type: ENFJ- T

Alinement: Neutral Good

Gender: Female

Height: 147 cm ( 4′10ft  ) 

Hair Color:  Very pale pink  #ffe9f0

Eye colour: Very light Cyan  #87d6eb

Dominate Hand: Right

Homeland: Empire of Fortune 

Species: Human

School: Noble Swan University

Dorm: Briable

Year: 1st

Occupation: Student, famous singer

Club: Board Game Club

Best Subject: Magical Enchantments 

Favorite Food:  Strawberry and Milk Kakigori  , Spicy food

Least Favorite Food: Cilantro

Likes: Winning, free time

Dislikes: Disappointing others/letting people down, People who shrink away from their responsibilities.

Hobby: Making enchanted Charm bracelets, exercising  

Talents: Singing, weight lifting, reading and manipulating people

Unique Magic: Lucky Stars 

Kelly’s Unique Magic is called “Lucky Stars”. This ability gives her an automatic and continuous supply of good luck, she’s able to use this ability by saying  “ Star light, star bright, The first star I see tonight; I wish I may, I wish I might, Have the wish I wish tonight” , whenever she recites this things will always turn in her favor, be it a test or a battle, her wishes will always come true, she is able to project this into her charm bracelets, though it’s not as effective and acts more like warding charm, she’s only able to use her unique magic for a total of 40 minutes in a day, as it takes a lot of magic and effort to keep it up.

Appearance

Kelly is short and petite, with a very fair complexion. She has long pastel pink hair that is styled in a half-up do tied with her dorm ribbon, her hair ends below her butt. She has big doe like eyes that are a pale cyan, which are framed by long and thick eyelashes.(very pretty! I wanna be pretty too~~) She has a very innocent doll-like appearance. She wears grey checkered uniform ( uniform in the picture! but the skirt ends around her mid-thigh) with a ribbon of her dorm colour, tied around her collar and is secured with a white and gold brooch, she wears black mary jane shoes with lacey white ankle socks.  She has a very ethereal-angel-ish vibe overall. 

Personality

Kelly is very kind and understanding person, accepting everyone as they are and doesn’t judge anyone, she’s a passionate altruist, warm and selfless, sometimes even to a fault. However, Kelly is quite manipulative, she’s gifted in people reading and is natural-born leader, full of passion, charismatic charm and a natural confidence that begets influence, she isn’t always manipulating people to hurt them or for personal gain, she simply wants people to do more or better because it will benefit them or help them realize some potential. She’s likeable and trustworthy and, as a result, others are generally compelled to listen and follow her. Though Kelly can and will purposely manipulate those who treat her friends badly. Kelly has good control of her behavior and words, but she will purposely snap to those who try to use her or her friends, before simply covering up her actions with her silver tongue. “ Can’t you put on a better show for me? pretty please!” * Smiles cutely*  Despite having a natural confidence, she defines her self-esteem by whether she’s are able to live up to others’ ideals, so she’s quite insecure, always wondering about what she could’ve done better. If she fails to meet a goal or people’s expectations of her, her self-confidence will undoubtedly plummet.

Backstory

Kelly came from quite a normal family, if having renowned parents were considered normal at least, her father was a famous fashion designer and her mother, a world-wide known actress, both ‘fell in love’ after Kelly’s mother was scouted as the main model for her father’s brand.  Since Kelly’s parents were very prominent people in the entertainment world, she been in the spotlight since she was born. As both of Kelly’s parents were workaholics, she was often brought along business trips and photoshoots, she was famous among scouters for her beauty and sweet voice, thus it wasn’t long before Kelly herself was offered contracts. One of her contracts required her to go to the Land of Pyroxene for an advertisement, where she met a peculiar boy.

Trivia

- Kelly has a insanely high spice tolerance, she can probably eat a Carolina reaper like it’s a snack.

- Kelly doesn’t know how to use social media so she doesn’t have a magicam account...(yet)

- 1st in her grade for studies. 

- Kelly has wavy hair that tangles easily, it may look super soft to run your fingers through-and it is-only if you can get through the knots first.

- Kelly is very innocent she doesn’t understand about  *cough reproduction cough* 

- Isn’t educated in the way of memes, trends, vines, slang.

- Kelly is gifted in singing, but she’s horrible with music instruments.

- Known as the ‘Angel’ in NSU.

- F e n c i n g 

- Kelly may be small in size, but she’s surprisingly strong! She could probably carry Jack around all day if she wanted to.

-Puppy dog eyes 24/7

- Kelly sucks at computer games or any online game.

@twistinghearts   @nobleswansong​ ( Hehe! I was anon who asked if I could tag you! I hope these OCs aren’t made super badly...)

[gumnut-logic]

The Fight (Bit 18b + Epilogue)

Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 | Bit 4 | Bit 5 | Bit 6 | Bit 7 | Bit 8 | Bit 9 | Bit 10 | Bit 11a | Bit 11b | Bit 12 | Bit 13 | Bit 14 | Bit 15 | Bit 16 | Bit 17a | Bit 17b | Bit 18a | 18b + Epilogue

It’s finished! All 18,380 words of it :D Writing every day before work and at lunch seems to work well :D Though I usually need a weekend to wind up the ending - needs more concentration :D

So many thanks to the wonderful @onereyofstarlight for all her help throughout this fic and for a final read through of this bit :D You is amazing and wonderful.

Also, so many thanks to everyone who has commented and liked and cheered me on. You guys keep me writing these crazy things. ::hugs you all so much::

From here, it is onto the Kermadec fic ahead of Fandomversary ::eyes the date:: Oh dear, I better write fast. It will be a miracle if I finish it before 17 July.

As for Anna....I don’t think this is the last we will see of her :D This is the second story in a new series, apparently. :D

-o-o-o-

“There were some concerns regarding the MacIntyres and their connections to organised crime.” Jack’s voice was matter of fact. “You are a witness and/or a victim of both incidents. The Tracys were concerned for your safety.”

She hadn’t noticed anybody following her. Of course, she had considered the possibilities. Thoughts like that had kept her awake at night. But her conversations with the police had been reassuring.

“The police said there wasn’t anything to worry about. That the MacIntyres were in custody.”

Scott’s voice was quiet. “We have traced a connection to a worldwide crime ring. John, in particular, is concerned.” He held out a mobile phone. “We would like you to have this.”

She reached out and took it from him. Latest Tracy phone, worth a couple of thousand dollars. Completely outside her price range.

She looked up. “Why?”

“It has a direct connection to Thunderbird Five and we will be able to track you.”

“You could follow me?”

Scott’s voice was quiet. “Yes.”

He left it as a simple fact.

“Why?”

“For your safety.”

“What could you do from space?”

“We have security in the vicinity and can respond immediately.”

“So, you are following me anyway.”

“Yes.”

She held his gaze.

“We protect those we care about and Alan cares about you. Virgil, in fact, threw a fit after you left the hospital. He demanded we provide security.” A snort. “If he had given me a chance to answer, I could have told him that I had already spoken to Kyrano.” He didn’t look away, his eyes as challenging as hers. “The threat is there. We want to negate it.”

She hadn’t seen any security following her. She hadn’t seen Kyrano since the incident. Not that she had been looking. The thought that there were people watching her, hiding behind buildings...

“You should have told me.” An indrawn breath. “I work in a school surrounded by children. If I am a danger to the kids...”

“You’re not.”

“How do you know that?”

“We’re monitoring the situation-“

She shot to her feet. “How can you possibly guarantee that nothing will happen?!” The thought of a MacIntyre with a gun in her classroom was absolutely terrifying. “I have a responsibility to my students. How could you let me return to work when you knew that was a possibility?”

Scott stood up, his hands out obviously in an attempt to placate her. “Anna, you are not a danger to your students. Kyrano has you under surveillance, you’re safe.”

“I’m safe? Like Alan was?” The words were out of her mouth before she could think and she regretted them immediately as the man in front of her paled.

“That hole in our security has been plugged. I’m sorry we were unable to prevent that incident.” His voice was still strong and determined, but there was an uncertainty, a guilt in his undertones. This was a man trying to do the right thing.

“An apology is not necessary. That was not your fault. The point I am trying to make is that International Rescue is not omniscient. If there is a threat, I should not be in this school. How could I face the parents of my students should something happen? How could you?”

She grabbed the paperwork on her desk and shuffled it into a pile, her mind going through all the things she would need to do to resign from her position. But then, where would she go? Where would she be safe? She found her handbag in her hands and stared at it a moment. Looking up, she found both men calmly staring at her.

“Anna, I’m sorry.” And there was the young man who had lost his father only a matter of months ago. The suit suddenly seemed too big for him, the blue in his eyes just that touch unsure.

The door to the classroom was pushed open, no knock, no hesitancy. Kyrano strode in as if on cue. Dressed in loose black pants, a grey polo shirt and runners, his hair tied back at the nape of his neck, he appeared insignificant, a dad at the school to pick up his kids.

Only the sharp green of his eyes betrayed that he was anything but.

“Ms Kent, you and your students are safe. You have my word.”

He spoke as if his word was a certainty.

Anna sat down, thoughts swirling around her head, her whole body wilting. “How can I risk it? With so much at stake?” Her career, her life, was not worth those that filled this room, this building, on a daily basis.

And her family...De, her partner, hell, even the dogs. Her flatmate...

Her elbows hit the desk and her head fell into her hands.

The scuffle of footsteps. A tentative touch on her shoulder. She looked up to find Scott crouched down beside her, blue eyes intense. No longer towering above her, now looking up at her. “You are safe, Anna. I promise.”

He held her gaze. He was the commander of International Rescue. He was asking her to trust him.

Trust him.

“You. Are. Safe.”

So many questions. How could they monitor her at all times? Her family? Her friends? Her students? It wasn’t humanly possible.

But this was International Rescue, they dealt in miracles, they made things happen.

A lump caught in her throat.

Voice small. “Okay.”

Those eyes softened just a little and his hand squeezed her shoulder.

His voice was gentle, no doubt the same voice he used on frightened people he was rescuing.

She was frightened people.

Could she be rescued?

A flicker of steel in those eyes answered that question.

“Kyrano is in charge of your security, John is monitoring from orbit and Jack is tackling the legalities. We will find those responsible and remove the threat. International Rescue has resources across the globe and we are mobilising. You need us, that phone will have a Thunderbird on your doorstep in minutes.”

She stared at him. “All for one small town school teacher.”

He unfolded and straightened up to his full height, looking down at her. The confident and certain young man returned and steeled his stance. “It is what we do.”

A blink and she found herself believing him. It was little more than faith. Hope.

“Okay.” This time her voice was stronger. “Tell me what I need to do.”

That suave smile curved his lips again.

-o-o-o-

 Epilogue

 “Okay, class, pull up page 58 in your grammar text and read the first two paragraphs. I want you to write an expressive piece using first person and present tense. One hundred words minimum.”

She didn’t miss the twin groans from the holoprojector on her desk. She had to smile, they often forgot they were in a class of twenty-odd students and their reactions were obvious. “Alan and Rory, I heard that.”

“Sorry, Ms Kent.” Alan had his head in one hand and appeared thoroughly bored. Rory didn’t even bother to answer. He was doodling on his tablet.

An arched eyebrow. “Alan, I didn’t say what the topic had to be. Perhaps you could write about flying a rocket into space?”

That caught his attention. “I could?”

“You could. And if you finish quickly enough, you could illustrate it.”

Gemma was bouncing in her seat, her hand in the air. “Ms Kent, can I write about a rocket, too?”

Anna smiled. “Of course, you are all welcome to write about subjects that interest you. You have the next forty-five minutes to complete the exercise. Make it yours, make it into whatever you want.”

She didn’t miss the grumble from Jonathon about making it into a way to get out of here. He was overdue some special attention. She wrote a note on her tablet.

All the heads in the room bent down to read.

All except Rory.

She eyed her dejected student who was still doodling. A touch at her own screen and she pulled up what the boy was drawing.

A number of words scattered over his screen, all angry and understandable, interspersed with abstract figures and angry lines.

He was having one of those days.

A sigh and she touched her headset to confine his audio to her alone. His holofigure was removed from the classroom and confined to her screen.

She didn’t miss Alan’s sudden raised eyebrow as he looked up from his work.

Rory received the notification that he was on privacy mode and looked up at her sullenly. “What have I done now?”

She suppressed another sigh. Voice quiet so the class couldn’t hear. “Nothing, Rory. I was just going to suggest that you could write this piece of text using whatever is on your mind today. You don’t have to present it to the class, it can be a private piece.”

“Don’t wanna.”

Her lips thinned. Definitely one of those days. “Do you need a break? Should I speak to your mother?”

“No!” His eyes were alarmed. “Leave Mom outta this.”

Her heart lurched. There was only so much she was capable of doing to help Rory. But she would use what little reach she had to do the best she could. “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

Still doodling. Apparently, he had forgotten she could see what he wrote on his tablet. Bloody leave me alone was certainly clear enough.

“Okay, Rory, try to write something. It might help.” So much anger. Understandable, but it needed to be managed. She would speak to Rory’s counsellor later today and see if there was another strategy that could help. Rory was slowly working through it all, he just needed a little help.

As for her other long distance student...

“Gordon, getoff!”

The class burst into laughter as Gordon Tracy suddenly appeared in Alan’s stream and gave the younger boy a thorough noogie.

It didn’t last long, as a red flannelled arm reached into the feed and yanked the fish out of receiver range.

Alan, hair now sticking up at all angles, glared at something the rest of the class couldn’t see. “Serves you right, fishboy!”

Blue eyes widened as Alan reacted to something Anna couldn’t hear, but its contents were obvious as the eleven-year-old snapped back to attention, guilt under her gaze. He hurriedly returned to reading his tablet.

Someone in the class snickered.

Anna raised an eyebrow at the room and all heads ducked back to work.

Rory started writing a story about a boy who was scared.

Alan was describing Thunderbird Three...another paper she would have to save to the locked server John had provided for all such possible technology breaches.

The wind rustled through the rosemary bush outside the schoolroom window.

Her phone flashed up with an apology from Virgil regarding Gordon. Apparently, he was sentenced to cleaning the bilge pumps of the family boat. An unusual punishment task, but then the Tracys were an unusual family.

A glance at the room’s security camera. It had become a nervous habit.

An internal sigh.

Unusual indeed.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[winchester-with-wings]

I Saw You First

“An Angel & Her Assassin” sequel

Patron Benefit Fanfic for @softdudebro​!

Pairing:  College AU - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Author's Notes:  People have asked for sequels to this fic and I gave it a shot. I thought I'd dedicate this to Tomorrow since they like Bucky :) hopefully this is a good continuation and elicits some college feels cuz it definitely did for me! Hope ya'll like it!

Summary/Request:   The story of the first time you and Bucky saw each other but didn't actually meet. Then a flash forward to the present. smut.

**inspired by that one video of Seb working out** gif post

Word Count: 1700ish

Wanna get previews, early access and make exclusive requests? Become a Patron! You can follow my Patreon for free too as some stuff becomes public after a while. I’ll be adding a discord server benefit soon too!

Can’t become a patron? please consider a donation to my Ko-Fi (Tips are appreciated!)

Mobile Masterlist  /  Patreon & Commissions Masterlist

---------------------------------------------------

Bucky noticed you before he ever encountered you in the laundry room or the elevator of your dorm building. It figures that it would be at the gym, likely one of the regular places he frequented. Of course, you never knew this until after that fateful night at the Halloween party when you finally, truly connected.

When you asked him to tell you the story, he was playfully vague. But you know. You were there. You’d checked him out too.

Here’s how it really happened.

-----

The summer after your freshman year, you created another reading list to focus on. One of your methods to read these had been to take a book with you to the gym. You figured getting a little exercise at the same time would only help you develop better habits.

It worked, at first. The beginning of the new semester, you went to the gym for maybe two weeks? You enjoyed the ellipticals and recumbent bikes--the things that kept your legs busy but your hands and eyes free to read. It also distracted you from feeling self-conscious about the fact that you didn’t look like the other girls that came to the gym to socialize and work on their already-perfect bodies.

With the addition of classes, going to the gym became a harder habit to keep. You could just stay in your dorm room and read all you want, right? But by now, Rachel, your roommate needed a work-out buddy. Someone to motivate her to continue to go to the gym, as well. She claimed she wanted to get in shape for all the boys she’d scoped out at the floor meeting for the dorm during the first week of the semester.

“Let’s try the classes!” she suggested, pointing at the schedule on the wall. Step Aerobics, Yoga, Zumba, etc. They sounded alright, and maybe a change to your routine would be good.

So you started with the step aerobics class. You didn’t last long. You were breathing hard, face flushed and dripping with sweat. The blood was pounding in your ears, harder than the beats of music and every step on the hardwood floor and plastic steps.

You took a break, heading to the back of the class to get your water bottle. The back of the room was floor to ceiling windows and doors that faced the main area of the gym where all other equipment was. It took you only a second to realize why you disliked this set up. Everyone in the class, mostly other female students were in a fishbowl, on display for all the guys passing by or just blatantly standing at the windows. One guy winked at you and you scowled at him, effectively directing his eyes elsewhere.

What was so sexy about a sweaty step aerobics class? You thought to yourself as you turned to look at Rachel, killing it on the routine.

Oh, the butts, getting toned by the steps...Ugh!

You left after that, picking a leg press machine instead.

“Hey! Why you’d you leave?” Rachel asked after the class was over.

“Did you not see all the guys window shopping?”

“Uh, yeah, I got a number or two,” Rachel giggled, swinging her ponytail over her shoulder. You laughed as you got off the machine, offering it to your friend. She sat down and lowered the weight, significantly.

“I don’t come here to pick up guys.”

“You could if you wanted to,” she said, exhaling on the release. You just rolled your eyes. You told yourself it was because you didn’t have time for a man but really, how could you possibly expect to attract the interest of some jock? The guy that winked at you doesn’t count. He was disqualified the moment he decided to drool over a step aerobics class rather than work out. Your standards weren’t that low, seriously…

You and Rachel tried out a few more machines in the circuit, trying your own hands at strength training. But you realized quickly that you’d left the quieter space of the cardio equipment, too close to the weight lifting benches. Young men of all sizes were pushing themselves to the brink, breathing hard, grunting, exhaling, chanting, and egging each other on.

“Come on, Sam, you can do it! Just two more!” You knew that voice. Everyone on your floor knew Steve Rogers, quarterback, certified hunk and sweetheart. Or at least that’s what you had heard.

“He can’t do it.”

“Shut up, Buck!” a football player shouted as he pushed himself.

Too much testosterone. Intense. Stressful. Intimidating. That’s not what you wanted out of going to the gym. Quite the opposite really.

As you two left the gym, you made a mental note to avoid that area again.

-

The next class you attended was Zumba and not only did you keep up with it but you enjoyed it! The music was awesome and the choreography wasn’t too difficult. You could totally see yourself doing this again. But of course, boys… not men… boys…they ruin all the fun.

If step aerobics could catch the attention of onlookers, then zumba was like blood in the water for sharks.

Then again, you did feel sexy, swaying your hips, waving your hands, rolling your body. You decided to put the spectators out of your mind, losing yourself to a Shakira song.

When you left the class, having stayed for the entire thing and deciding to return tomorrow, you felt so good, so confident, that you didn’t care about who was looking. You were just in Nike leggings and a tie-dye shirt, hair up in a messy bun, nothing special, but you felt great.

“Hey, Rach!” someone called out for your friend, inviting her back over to the weight lifting area. The guy who called out for her looked familiar, someone that was likely found hanging out with Steve Rogers.

“Hey Sam,” she greeted him. You stayed by her side, holding onto that Zumba confidence with a steely grip.

You didn’t really listen to what happened between your friend and the football player. You saw Steve a few feet away with another friend. The man was on his back, legs bent and giant dumbbell weights in each hand. Your eyes went wide as you watched him push them up and hold them there. The way his arms were bulging in that gray t-shirt, he was straining himself and you were tempted to tell him to be careful.

“Give me one more!” Steve encouraged him. His friend winced as that last push was almost too much for him.

“Ah, fuck,” he hissed, exhaling and grinding his teeth. He pushed those dumbbells into the air once more and even a second time, then put them down with a loud thud as rubber met the concrete floor.

You didn’t have the best view of his face from his position on the ground and your standing position over 6 feet away, but that sound...like a growl, and his bared white teeth against that strong jaw covered in stubble…it’s a sound that stirred something deep in your belly.

He jumped to his feet and did a few quick squats in those black basketball shorts. You averted your eyes from his perfect ass just as he turned around.

You wouldn’t mind if he’d been watching you dance.

-------

“Ah, fuck.”

It’s the same sound that he made now as you sit on top of him, his hips thrusting up. His fingers were digging into your hips and would likely leave a bruise, but you didn’t mind. You were Bucky’s and he was yours. You’d staked your claim with that hickey on his chest just the other night.

“Mmph, fuck, damn it. I love it when you move like that,” he grunted. You rolled your hips, earning another moan from his lips before you leaned forward and pressed your chest to his, kissing him. He wrapped his arms around you and pinned you to him as he sat up and rolled over. The grunts and squeaks coming from the two of you as Bucky repositioned himself on top were ridiculous.

“Quit giggling,” he half-laughed. “M’gonna pull a muscle in this bed, I swear.” Your head hit the pillow with a ‘oof’ and another giggle. “Dammit, babe, you make it hard to fuck you when you sound that cute.”

“Then don’t fuck me…” Bucky’s hips froze, his cock buried deep inside you. His sharp features softened with outright confusion and a slight insecurity. You reached up to caress the side of his face, the stubble on his cheek itching your palm. “Make love to me.” Bucky released a heavy sigh, rolled his eyes and collapsed on top of you.

“Don’t mess with me like that, Doll,” he whispered into your hair, using your new favorite pet name. His slow thrusts picked up again while he kept his face next to yours. You held onto him for dear life as the tension inside you continued to build until your arched back signaled your release. Bucky kept pumping until the lasting effects of your orgasm sent him over the edge. Rather than stopping completely, he slowed down until the only movement was a twitch of pleasure every now and then. “Oh my god,” he whispered, peppering kisses on your shoulder. “I’m taking you to dinner.”

“Why?” you laughed.

“I’m sorry, darlin, are you turning down a free meal? Is it the company? Do you just use me for my body?” Bucky climbed off of you but you reached out for him; He stumbled as he fully ejected himself from the bed.

“Nonono, that’s not what I said!” you said, as you continued to laugh. “I’m just wondering...if that’s your way of paying me for my services,” you wiggled your eyebrows, a hint at your teasing. Bucky snapped a finger and pointed at you, putting on his own mock serious face.

“Hooker, I’m taking you to dinner because I want to.” Having cleaned himself up, Bucky tugged on his basketball shorts and a t-shirt he’d left in your dorm room the other day. The boy considered your floor his own personal closet. “We’ve stayed in, ordered food and watched movies and you’ve even helped me with my papers. You deserve to go out to an actual restaurant.”

“Okay, well, we should probably shower before we go out.”

“Oh, I agree but I can’t share that shower with you. It was too dangerous the first time. Never again.”

You picked up your towel and toiletries as Bucky sat in a bean bag chair on your floor. You tapped him on the nose.

“Never say never, Buck,” you said with a wink.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tagging: @abbessolute​ @book-loving--anime-chick​ @faithtrustandpixiedust95​ @fabinapercabeth4179​ @thinkwritexpress-official​ @autoblocked​ @therealcap​ @mathle0matle​ @whoopxd​ @bookworm4ever99​ @geeksareunique​ @bucky-plums-barnes​ @pottxrwolff​ @ravenhaviland​ @melaninspice11​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @fvckingavengers​ @officialcaptain-marvel​ @sebbytrash​