#I thought it was amusing that the fandom looped around like this without realizing it

[crazy-grrrl-on-the-computer]

Remember when we all saw the end of s1e10 for the first time and feared that the Student Council would try to uncover the identities of the Battle Lovers by tracking Goura down and using him as leverage in the finale?

s2e10:

We've come full circle.

[iridescent-petrichor]

music to my ears

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: swearing but that’s it

Words: 1K

A/N: I am so sorry that I’ve been gone for years only to come back with a different fandom fic.... I got hit with a huge writer’s block and then I watched a ton of x-men movies with my best friend after wandavision so obviously i’m gonna fall in love with evan peters’ quicksilver, what else was i supposed to do, yknow???

-

When you woke up, it took you a moment to remember where you were. Sunlight was streaming in through the curtains, brightening the whole room in its soft gleam. The room was slightly messy, with a couple of clothes littered around the floor. You were definitely still in Peter’s room.

The space in the bed next to you was empty, which didn’t surprise you. Peter hates leaving you alone in the morning, but you knew he was talking to Charles early in the morning, and he didn’t tend to need much sleep anyways.

You sat up in the bed, stretching your tired limbs before climbing out from under the warm covers. You made the bed quickly, knowing damn well Peter wasn’t going to do it himself.

Grabbing a random shirt from Peter’s dresser and pulling on the jeans you were wearing the day before, you decided you were somewhat ready for the day.

That is until you noticed his walkman laying on top of his dresser.

He never went anywhere without his walkman somewhere on his person, so to see it alone in his room was quite the rarity. You glanced around as if he was going to jump out from the shadows and scold you for even thinking about taking his stuff. Another couple of seconds passed before you swiped the walkman, attaching it to your belt like you’ve seen Peter do a million times. With one final glance at the clock, you determined that Peter would still be talking to Charles, so you headed down towards the forest behind the school.

It was such a beautiful day out, you couldn’t help but enjoy the sunshine as Peter’s music played in your ears. You were surprised at how many love songs he listened to, but maybe you’d just rubbed off on him. The thought of him thinking of you while listening to these made you unable to wipe your smile off your face.

You almost lost track of time, only heading back after you realized you’d looped around towards the school again. It was still early, you couldn’t have been out for over an hour, but you felt so much more full of energy.

-

Peter strolled out of the professor’s office, hands shoved in his pockets and humming a quiet tune that’s been stuck in his head all morning. He looked up, seeing Jean passing him in the hallway, and gave her a quick wave before heading towards his own room. Upon entering, the first thing he notices is his bed is empty. He smiles when he notices you made the bed before you left.

Instinctively, he reached for his walkman, deciding to run a couple of laps around the school before heading out to find you. His hand hits the dresser, finding nothing.

“What the…” He does a quick scan of the room, dresser first, only to find his walkman is nowhere to be seen. Running his hand through his hair, he sighs. “Goddammit, Y/N.”

In truth, he didn’t care all that much. But without music or you to entertain himself, he would get bored quickly. So, he set off, knowing where he’d find one, he’d find the other.

Speeding down into the kitchen where Jean was heading, he found her talking to Scott.

“Hey!” They both jumped back at his voice, startled by his sudden presence.

“You have to stop doing that!” Scott urges, his furrowed brows the only evidence of his emotions.

“What’s up, Peter?” Jean asks, ignoring her boyfriend.

“Have either of you seen Y/N?” Peter tried to lean casually against the entryway door, but it moved with him, causing him to slip before he caught himself.

Scott snickered, shaking his head in amusement. “Nope, haven’t seen her.”

“Why?” Jean asked. Usually, they were attached at the hip, so it was only fair to wonder why she was away from him today.

“She took my walkman, man.” He muttered before speeding off to look for her.

Maybe she was in her room?

-

You walked back inside, invigorated from your long walk through the forest. When you passed the kitchen, you faintly heard your name being called.

Taking the earbuds out, you turn to see Jean and Scott standing together, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” You walked towards them, stopping at the entryway of the room.

“Peter’s looking for you. Says you have something of his.” Scott smirked, and your hand flew to the walkman.

“Oh, that.” You laughed, feeling the blush come across your face. “Mind telling me where he went?”

Before either of them could answer, you felt a gust of wind coming from behind, followed by a pair of arms around you.

“Right here.” A familiar voice whispered in your ear. You spun around in Peter’s arms, coming face to face with him. “Nice shirt, by the way.”

You felt your face grow hotter when you remembered that his walkman wasn’t the only thing you took.

“Sorry?” You tried with a sheepish smile.

“You’re not.”

“I’m not.”

In an instant, you were back in Peter’s room with a vague sense of nausea coming over you. You faintly sensed a weight off your belt, knowing Peter took his walkman back.

“You know stealing is my thing, babe.” You spun around to face him, seeing him leaning back on his desk chair.

“Well, maybe you just rubbed off on me.” Walking over until your face was inches from his before stopping, giggling when you noticed the pout on Peter’s face. It didn’t last long though, because soon enough Peter’s hand was cupping your face and his lips were on yours.

“Your music taste is sappy.” You whispered, laughing loudly when you heard him groan in annoyance.

“You are never taking my shit ever again.”

[lordsisterxotome]

Mine to Dance With (Napoleon Bonaparte x Reader)

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Pairing: Napoleon Bonaparte x Reader

Prompt:  dance / “I’m not going to step on you this time, you’ll see.”

Warning: None!

Intended Audience: Female Audience

Word Count: 1,325

Ko-fi: Click here to support me on ko-fi!<3

Disclaimer: I do not own Ikemen Vampire or any of its characters. All of that goodness is the property of Cybird. I do, however, own the plot of this fanfic. Please do not repost this on any other website.

Other notes: This is for day 4 of @kissmetwicekissmedeadly​‘s Napoleon Birthday Prompts 2020. I meant to finish this a month ago, but then I got sick and couldn’t look at anything for too long without getting fall down dizzy. So!

Tag list: @puffpuff300​ @nad-zeta​ @jiyuu-chan​ @i-sleep-like-napoleon​ @kisara-16​ @cheese-ception​ @cailannuesugi​ @vespeshadowmoon​ @ravenarld​

Let me know if you would like to be (un)tagged!💜

       “Look up, ma cherie. I’ve got you,” Le Comte’s gentle voice coaxed, and you smiled up at him apologetically.

       “Sorry. Thank you for doing this.”

       The greater vampire smiled softly, leading you through another few steps before answering, “It’s my pleasure, though I am surprised you didn’t ask Napoleon to help you.”

       “Oh…” You chuckled uncomfortably, your hand tightening in his, and your teeth caught the inside of your cheek as you thought about your last attempt to practice dancing with your lover.

       “Did something happen, ma cherie?” Le Comte’s questioning made you startle. “It may not be any of my business, but I’m always here if you would like to talk.”

       “Are you sure? I don’t want to burden you.” You frowned thoughtfully. Should you share with him? He had already helped you so many times before and you didn’t want to bother him, but…

       The hand on your waist pulled you closer, his touch comforting. Golden eyes gleamed in amusement as he replied, “Try me.”

       “Well…” Your cheeks warmed as his face loomed close to yours and you mumbled an apology when you missed a step, stumbling over his fine leather shoes. “I do usually ask Napoleon to help me, and he’s always so patient with me even when I step on his feet half the time, but he’s used to dancing with women who know how to dance.” Le Comte’s steps halted, but his arms and hands remained in place. Your feet suddenly seemed very interesting again, the tips of your shoes nearly touching his. “I guess I feel a little incompetent.”

       “Ma cherie…” A gentle hand tilted your chin up and you blinked at the look in Le Comte’s eyes, familiar if it weren’t for the different face wearing the expression. “You don’t know, do you?”

       You opened your mouth to ask him what he meant, but another voice interrupted before you could. Spinning on your heel at the sound of your name, you caught sight of the object of your greatest troubles and greatest happiness striding across the grass towards you. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips until you saw the look on his face and your eyes widened in surprise. Napoleon looked positively stormy, glittering green gaze narrowed at the man behind you and his mouth set in a near snarl as he stalked closer. 

       “Napoleon?” You squeaked as he reached out to tug you into his arms, one around your waist while the other looped around your shoulders. The two men shared a look as your gaze flitted between them, and a heartbeat later Le Comte stepped back, tucking his hands in the pockets of his coat. The small, appeasing smile on his face seemed to satisfy your boyfriend who turned and walked away with you in tow.

       Blinking at Napoleon’s back as he pulled you along, you failed to notice the regretful softening of Le Comte’s eyes as he peered after you.

       “Napoleon?” you called softly as he led you down the hall, “Are you okay?”

       Without answering, he slowed to a stop, his hand squeezing yours. His free palm came to rest on your cheek as he turned to face you, his thumb stroking your cheekbone tenderly. His expression was unreadable, the imperceptible tug of his bottom lip between his teeth all you had to go by as he stared at you. Finally, he exhaled and spoke, “This isn’t the place.”

       Resuming his quick pace, you followed silently, despite the many questions storming your brain. Eventually, you reached the garret, that special place in the mansion that was all yours and his. Standing in the middle of the tiny room, he took your hands in his, stroking your knuckles as he held them between the two of you. You waited patiently for him to speak, moments passing as the sun illuminated the dust spores floating about the room. 

       “Why were you dancing with him?” he finally murmured, keeping his gaze on your hands.

       “I asked him to help me practice,” you answered honestly.

       His brow furrowed, mouth turning down. “Why did you go to him and not me?” His voice sounded choked, pained, and your heart broke a little at the sound of it.

       “I thought I’d give your feet a break from being stepped on,” you tried for lightness, but his frown only deepened.

       “I never said it bothered me when you stepped on my feet.” his eyes lifted to you and the hurt look you saw there made your heart sink even further. “There’s something else, isn't there?”

       You took a deep breath, preparing yourself. What would he think when you told him about your insecurities? Would he think you silly for it? Taking a deep breath, you squeezed hands, drawing strength from them as his knuckles flexed, squeezing back.

       Lifting your head, you swallowed and tried to hold his waiting gaze. These feelings wouldn’t go away until you at least got them out into the open. Whatever happened after that, you had to at least have a little faith in the man you had given everything for. “I just feel kind of...inadequate, I guess?” 

       “It’s silly, I know!” you rushed, forcing a couple chuckles as his mouth opened to speak before falling shut again. “I’ve tried to reason with myself, but… somehow…I can’t help but think about how natural it is for you… how much practice you’ve had with those kinds of things.”

       “With other women?” he supplied, and you were helpless but to nod.

       He sighed and your gaze dropped to your feet, heart hammering in your chest and a ball of anxiety rising in your throat. “I’m sorry, I know-”

       Warm arms wrapped around you, silencing you as Napoleon tucked your face against his chest. “I had to dance with other women in the past for appearances,” he spoke, his arms tightening around your waist. “But I never enjoyed it, not until you.”

       Cupping your cheek, he tilted your face up to his, making you meet his earnest gaze. “It doesn’t matter if you step on my feet or if you aren’t coiffed like the women from my past life. One of the reasons why I fell in love with you is because I can be a normal man with you. When I’m with you, it’s just you and me. No one else. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

       Thumping your forehead against his collarbone, you chuckled, biting back tears of relief. You hadn’t realized how much this mattered, how much this had weighed on you, until just now, your fingers shaking as they laced with his. This power he had over you was something extraordinary, a mere few sentences making you feel like you could fly away if not for the steady pounding of your heart in your chest keeping your feet on the ground.

       “Thank you,” you managed, unsure what else to say. What could you say to express how happy he’d made you simply for reaffirming something you had already known to be true?

       “You don’t need to thank me. I should be thanking you for giving me this life.” Stepping back, you watched him questioningly as he bent his lips to your hand, the perfect gentleman as he bowed to you. Napoleon’s smile curled against your knuckles as he asked, “Will you dance with me and only me, mon amour?”

       His grin widened as you answered, “I’m all yours.” Sweeping you into his arms, one hand settled around your waist while the other lifted your own, mimicking the position you had taken with Le Comte minutes ago, yet it felt so much more right this time, like this was where you were meant to be. “I’m not going to step on you this time, you’ll see,” you promised, to which he chuckled.

       “You could make my feet black and blue and I would still rather dance with you than anyone else.”

[the-silvr-speedster]

About Starfish and Squares

Fandom: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D Pairings: Daisy Johnson / Daniel Sousa

Basically just Daisy trying to figure out what to do about her feelings for Daniel and Daniel being... well, Daniel. All with a little teasing and heart eyes. Set after the end of S7 in a timeline that was changed a lot (just my pure speculation).

Hi guys! Uh, it's been a few years since I've actually published something (and didn't finish, oops). This is my first fic connected to a TV show, but since it is my favourite one and is already ending and they gave us Daniel freakin' Sousa as a new love interest for our girl Daisy I just couldn't sit on the sidelines but jump on the ship and now I am basically just a Dousy trash. Plus I got ideas and couldn't wait until the season ends hence this little fic I put down over the weekend. The timeline is pretty messed-up at this point and I have no idea what are they going to do about it so, this is just my pure speculation about what it would look like in the future after all those changes. Basically, I just wanted to write one small fluff and flirty scene but somehow this fic came alive and decided otherwise. But enough of my rambling, I hope you enjoy reading this. Beware of mistakes, nobody else edited it but myself and I may be a little rusty in writing in English.

And just a little disclaimer: I don't own any characters, they are a property of Marvel and Marvel Television.

He could hear the sound of Daisy's fast typing before he walked into Zephyr’s dining area. She didn't see him enter the room, though. Sitting sideways at the table, she kept her eyes trained on the laptop screen, completely focused on her work. Daniel stopped in the doorway, leaned against the wall, and quietly watched over her like she could disappear into thin air at any moment.

He caught himself doing it ever since Nathaniel killed her mom and he found Daisy on the ground next to her body with tears welled up in her eyes. She let them fall the second he softly spoke her name. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and he stroked her hair and held her close as long as she needed it. God knows that if it was up to him, he would hold her like that forever. She clung to him for dear life.

“You are hurt,” he worriedly looked over the bump on her forehead, brushing her hair from her face.

She didn't respond. She moved her hands to his chest and kept looking at them, lost in thoughts. A look of fear and confusion crossed her face and she finally met his eyes.

“How am I still here?”

That sentence stayed on his mind for over a week now, like a constant reminder of how much Chronicoms screwed up the timeline - with the help of Malicks, mainly Nathaniel. Just a brief thought of him brought that rage against the man full force. He shouldn't dwell on that anymore, it was in the past after all, but still, he couldn't forget. The barn. What he did to Daisy. To her mom. Daniel shook his head. Nathaniel is long gone now; Daisy took care of that. In the end, it didn't matter that he had those powers longer than she did. She crushed him, just like she told him she will back in that godforsaken barn. Daniel was so proud of her.

They won. They destroyed Sybil permanently with the help of Fitz and returned to the future. Not like it was a return for him but he didn't mind being here... with her. It was so strange to him. Yes, he had fallen in love before but somehow this was different. Unexpected. It hit him like a bullet in the back, totally unprepared and he was too far gone before he even realized it. ‘Huh, no pun intended,��� he thought. Million times better than those two bullets in the back he was originally supposed to get. And yet, at the same time, it scared him. The thought of him making it to the future without her. He was scared that the messed-up timeline will catch up with them and take her away from him. Not that she would be his, she is her own person but... He closed his eyes and shook his head again. He is in head over heels.

Something has changed between them. Well, more precisely, something about Daisy has changed ever since she was stuck in the time loop. Whatever that was, whatever happened that she didn't tell him about, it gave him a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe she's falling for him too. A hope that this time it won't end up like with Peggy. However, another part of him kept screaming not to give his hopes up. After all, she is a superhero with impressive powers from the future and he - he is a square, she said it herself. But he finds it that he doesn't care. He just wants to be there for her in whatever way she lets him. People like her should have someone to pick them back up after they hit the figurative walls. In Daisy’s case even the literal ones.

“Enjoying the view?” Daisy calls with a smirk. She could feel Daniel's presence for some time now but wanted to finish her work. Setting up new identities and lives in this new timeline is a pain in the ass. She officially doesn't exist, Daniel is supposed to be dead, Coulson is actually still alive so she has to set something up for LMD version of him and Deke - well he was always out of time.

She turns to look at Daniel at the lack of his response. He is looking in her general direction but his eyes are unfocused. She keeps looking at him, almost getting lost in her own thoughts that she promised herself she'll sort through. Mainly those particular memories from the time loops.

“Earth to Sousa,” she calls again, tilting her head to the side. She can't help but smile as she sees his eyes focusing on hers.

“Hi! Sorry, got lost for a while,” he sheepishly smiles and pushes off of the wall.

“Anything interesting on your mind you'd like to share?” Daisy can't help herself but tease him with a glint in her eyes.

Daniel's breath catches for a moment, fearing she could read his mind somehow. But she can't, can she? She's just teasing him. She likes to do that. He throws up his arms and looks around. “Everything is on my mind.”

“Yeah. It's a lot to process, I guess. But you are a champ at that by now,” Daisy tells him, watching him with a soft smile as he walks over to the fridge.

“Don't know about that,” he throws over his shoulder as he takes out some eggs and veggies. “Hungry?” He looks at her questioningly as he sets the ingredients on the counter.

Daisy's stomach rumbles as an answer. She laughs. “Like a wolf.”

“I'll make us some omelet,” he proposes as he prepares to start cooking.

“OK. Thanks,” Daisy softly says and tries to concentrate on her work again. She fails at that miserably, her eyes wandering towards Daniel all the time. ‘How is he even real?’ She keeps asking herself ever since she first met him in his office in 1955. She has to smile at how crazy that sounds in her head. They basically know each other for seventy-five years. She doesn’t question everything he does for her anymore. She got the answer on that in the time loop. However, that doesn’t mean he stopped surprising her. It’s nice to have someone who takes care of her for once.  Someone who is listening to her and is just…there for her. She doesn’t need to be his rock like she always used to think she needs to be for everyone else on the team.

Daisy looks at him again. His back is turned towards her as he is chopping the veggies. ‘What a sight to behold.’ She grins widely at that and bites her lip. Nope, she can’t get distracted. She still has work to do. She fixes her eyes on the screen of her laptop again. The more she’s trying not to think about him, the more she does. She thinks about their little conversation. About that kiss… ‘Nope. Definitely not going there. Not now.’

“Daisy?” The sound of her name tears her out of her thoughts. She likes how it sounds when he says it.

“Huh?” She looks at him and hopes her face doesn’t give away what she was thinking about. He is leaning against the counter fully turned towards her with an amused expression.

“I asked if you know where Coulson and Deke are,” he tells her. Of course, he doesn’t ask what was on her mind when she wasn’t answering before. He’s nice like that.

“Uh, I think Deke went to set some things up for himself with the new ID I made for him and he said something about staying over at Fitz-Simmons’s this night,” she shrugged. “And Coulson is charging back in the LMD lab,” she pointed with her hand towards it.

“So, it’s just the two of us then,” he stated the obvious, his deep brown eyes locking with hers.

“Uh-huh,” she hums, breath catching in her throat. She should have some funny retort to that, shouldn’t she? “Any ideas?” She teases with a smile and slaps herself mentally. ‘Why am I like this?’

He doesn’t break eye contact and Daisy can see the change in his eyes. He gives her a small amused smile like he can see right through her. She can feel the air becoming heavier.

She cleared her throat. “I mean, I got us new Netflix subscription, so… if you want, we can watch-“ She was interrupted by a beep of a pop-up window on her laptop. “Oh, come on!” She exclaimed frustrated.

“Something’s wrong?” Daniel asked concerned.

“Nothing I can’t fix,” she told him as she started to work on fixing the problem. “But it will take time,” she sighed and ran her hand through her hair.

“OK, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll finish dinner.” She gave him a grateful smile and he returned to preparing the meal.

Daisy told herself that this is why she can’t deal with her feelings right now. Why she can’t think about how nice that kiss was. She has work to do and she needs to finish it first then deal with whatever is going on with the two of them. The sooner she does that, the sooner they all can start living a new life somewhere that is not on the Zephyr. A quick thought goes through her head; she always finds an excuse so she doesn’t have to deal with her feelings. She always tells herself “later”. Maybe it’s easier to do that than admit to herself that she is scared. Maybe a part of her is grateful the time loop did reset and Daniel doesn’t remember what happened. Because the last thing she wants is for him to get hurt…or worse. That is what happens to people she cares about, who care about her. She still remembers that time when she was in the dark place after everything went down with Hive and Lincoln, after she chose to leave the team and become a vigilante. The pain, the guilt she felt. May has told her back then that she doesn’t get to choose who cares about her. And finally, she accepted it; she returned back to the team. And then Coulson died. And Fitz. They went to space to search for the other version of Fitz. Davis was killed. Then May almost died in her arms in that temple and next thing she knows they are on the Zephyr in 1931. When she thinks about it, she’s been bottling everything up. She labeled every feeling, every memory with the “later” tag.

She can feel tears forming in her eyes so she blinks a few times to get rid of them. How did her mind go down that dark rabbit hole with just a single thought? She doesn’t know. What she does know is, that she will have to deal with all of it one day and she can’t ignore the small part of her which hopes that Daniel will be there to pick her back up after that dam of bottled feelings and pain breaks down. One day, but not now.

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

Daniel woke up in his bunk. The light was still on and the book he was reading laid open on his chest. He looked at his wristwatch. 3:35 A.M. He ran his hand down his face with a sigh. He doesn’t even know when he fell asleep.

After he and Daisy ate the dinner, he retreated to his bunk to continue his research on everything he missed in seventy-five years. Daisy showed him some web pages on the tablet that could come in handy, like this Wikipedia thing. She said though, to take everything written there with a bit of skepticism since apparently the page is sometimes not the most reliable source of information. Coulson gave him some history books he picked up for the team in a bookstore in a nearby city since those they had from before were useless in the new timeline. Nobody seemed to be interested in reading them but him. After they found out that the real Coulson is alive as well as May’s ex-husband Andrew which is not an ex in this timeline and they have a daughter, and that the public doesn’t know anything about the existence of Inhumans, Daisy kind of didn’t want to know more about what changed. Mainly after Fitz mentioned something about Grant Ward being alive too.

Daniel sat up on his bed with a grunt and put the history book aside. His mouth was dry. He decided to go get some water. He quietly opened the door on his bunk and walked towards the dining area. As he walked past Daisy’s bunk, he saw that the doors are open and her bed is empty. He closed his eyes with a sigh. Leave it to her to rest and she won’t.

When he entered the dining area, he was greeted with a sight of Daisy sleeping with her head placed on her arms next to the laptop on the table. She looked peaceful but uncomfortable. He shook his head with a smile and walked towards the counter to pour himself a glass of water. After he drank it, he moved next to Daisy and lightly put his hand on her back.

“Daisy?” He whispered so he wouldn’t startle her. She didn’t move.

“Okay,” he murmured to himself. ‘Let’s try something else.’ He carefully moved her body in a proper sitting position while simultaneously going to one knee. Putting his one arm around her back and the other under her knees, he pulled her close and her head rolled onto his shoulder. A soft sigh escaped her lips but she didn’t wake up. He stood up with her in his arms and slightly adjusted her weight, although it was so much easier and painless than the first time he carried her. He can’t be more amazed by the new prosthetic. Daisy’s arms went around his neck and she hid her face in his shoulder with another (content?) sigh. He smiled and before he thought better of it, he kissed the top of her head.

When he got to her bunk, he carefully put her down on the bed and unlocked her arms from around his neck. She grunted unhappily at the loss of contact. Smiling, he moved towards her feet and started undoing her shoes. When he was finished, he pulled the blanket from under her and covered her with it. Satisfied with the result of Daisy sleeping comfortably in her own bed, he looked at her one more time, leaned over, and softly brushed some hair from her face.

“Good night, Daisy.” He whispered as he straightened up. When he turned to leave the room, her hand caught his wrist.

“Daniel?” Daisy murmured half asleep. “Stay.”

His heart leaped into his throat. He stepped closer to her bed, her hand still holding his wrist. Her eyes were opened, looking at him pleadingly in the low light coming from the corridor. She slowly moved further on her bed to make a space for him. He was, however, waging an internal war. After all, this is something that would be considered highly inappropriate in his times. Probably even now, in the 21st century.

“I shouldn’t,” he told her quietly.

“Please,” she whispered her eyes closing again.

He sighed heavily and mentally cursed himself. He would do anything she asked of him, wouldn’t he? How could he say no when all he wants is to hold her close? He wants to stay but he shouldn’t. Yet he already knows he’ll do as she wants.

“OK,” he murmured resignedly.

Daisy smiled, satisfied, and let go of his wrist. He closed the door and sat down on her bed. He took off his shoes before he crawled under the blanket with her. She immediately moved closer to him and put her head on top of his chest, resting her hand over his heart. His instant shock melted away quite quickly and he wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her even closer. She hummed contently. Daniel turned his head towards hers and planted one more kiss on top of her head, smiling. Any doubts he had before disappeared in the warmth of her body pressed into his side and the feeling of her heartbeat resonating with his own.

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

No nightmares this night. That was the first thing that went through Daisy’s head after she woke up. She sighed and pressed her head into the pillow happily. Only then she realized that it’s not her pillow she is pressing her face into but another human being’s chest. That was the moment she became acutely aware of a warm arm around her waist holding her close and the fact that her legs were tangled with the legs of that person. She was basically sprawled across half of him like a freakin’ starfish. She went rigid for a moment before she finally dared to open her eyes. She was in her bunk. How did she get here?

If she was being honest with herself, she didn’t really need to look up to figure out who she made a pillow from. She already knew, but still, she looked up to be met with a peaceful face of sleeping Daniel Sousa. Was his face really buried in her hair before she looked up or it just looked like it was? She felt her cheeks burn. Her heart hammered in her chest at high speed. ‘Please, don’t quake,’ she begged herself. God, she was so grateful that he was still asleep and didn’t see her blushing. Speaking of… Daniel sighed and his arm tightened around her waist. ‘Shit!’ Daisy moved her head down, the last thing she wanted was for him to wake up to her staring at him while profusely blushing. She could feel how his own heart was slowly picking up pace. She smiled. Somehow it made it less awkward that her own heart was racing like crazy. Now that she comes to think of it, this is an extremely comfortable position and she really likes her new pillow.

“Hmm, good morning,” Daniel murmured hoarsely.

“More like lunch, really,” she babbled, looking at the clock on her bedside table. “But good morning to you too,” she quickly added hiding her smile in his chest. “How did you know I was awake?”

“Apart from that heartbeat of yours? Hmm, let me think,” he chuckled. She liked how it resonated in his chest.

“Sorry,” she said as she slowly looked up at him, locking her eyes with his. “A little side effect of my powers. Be glad I didn’t quake you out of the bed,” she smirked.

He raised his eyebrows, an amused smile playing on his lips. She tried not to look at them for too long. “That happened before?”

“Nope. But once I quaked myself out of the bed,” she laughed and he joined in. It lighted up his eyes even more. She had to look down on his chest to gather her thoughts. It wasn’t helping very much. “Anyway,” she cleared her throat, “care to elaborate how am I actually here? Last I remember I was resting my eyes on the table in the dining area.”

“Well, it wasn’t much of resting your eyes as it was more of an uncomfortable sleeping,” he chuckled. “Tried to wake you up but you wouldn’t even budge. So, I carried you here,” he explained.

Daisy met his eyes again amused, trying not to imagine him carrying her in his arms. “You carried me here? Just like you carried me out of that barn?”

“Uh-huh,” he hummed looking down at her.

“You seem to like carrying me around a lot, agent Sousa,” she teased him while pushing up on one elbow so she could look at him better. He gave her a small smile and…did he just look at her lips? She gulped.

“You seem to like being unconscious a lot, agent Johnson,” he replied jokingly.

Daisy smiled widely. “Well then, in that case, you have to carry me while I’m still awake next time.”

“Maybe I will,” he teased her back with a glint in his eyes.

'Looks like someone is in a playful mood this morning,’ she thought to herself. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she hummed. The way he was looking at her, the way his arm was burning her waist through her t-shirt and the way her own hand just casually laid on his chest suddenly became unbearable and at the same time she wanted more. More of him. Her eyes flicked to his lips, then to his eyes and then anywhere else but him. One side of her just wanted to lean in and kiss him like she did in the time loop, another side was basically screaming at her to abort the mission. She inhaled deeply to calm herself down and pushed away from him completely, now lying next to him on her back.

“So,” she started again looking at the ceiling twisting her hands together nervously, “did I, uh, say something after you brought me here?”

“Uh-huh,” he said as he propped himself on one elbow, now looking down at her with that little smile of his clearly enjoying himself by teasing her. Oh, how the tables have turned.

“Did I…beg you to stay?” She asked him, eyeing him cautiously.

He just smiled even more.

“I did, didn’t I? Oh God,” she mumbled, covering her face with her hands as she heard him chuckle next to her. “Sorry. The last thing I wanted was to put you in an uncomfortable situation. I just…,” she looked at him, her hands now playing with the hem of her t-shirt. She took a deep breath. “When I am extremely tired, I kind of loose the filter and say whatever is on my mind. Like a drunk person.” She smiled innocently at him.

“So, you are extremely honest then?” He asked her with a smirk, some kind of plan already forming in his eyes.

Daisy laughed. “Don’t you dare to use it against me,” she warned him jokingly. “Anyway, did I say…anything else?” She knows that there is so much she could’ve possibly said to him, things that she can’t reveal while she is in a half-asleep state when she definitely won’t take a moment to explain herself.

“You called me by my first name,” he shrugged, still smiling.

“Hmm, did I?” She grinned. She was calling him Daniel in her head since…well, since the kiss probably. “It would be a shame to go back to calling you Sousa now, wouldn’t it?”

“It definitely would,” he agreed.

“So, Daniel it is, then,” she smiled softly at him. “But I mean it, I’m sorry for putting you in that position. I know that you’re-“

“A square?” he cut her off with a raised eyebrow.

“That’s not exactly what I was gonna say but since you’ve mentioned it - I kinda like squares,” she gave him a teasing smile and he had to look away for a moment before finding her eyes again. “I mean, I basically made a pillow out of you and wrapped you in a starfish hug - unconsciously - but still. Without an explanation or…something.” She looked at her hands sheepishly. “I just can understand that it could be too much for you and-” She kept rambling before he cut her off again.

“I kinda like starfish,” he told her with a shrug.

She looked up at him. His face was soft and honest and she thought she’s going to drown in his warm eyes.

“And I didn’t mind being your pillow at all,” he added.

Just one swift move of her hand to grab his shirt and pull him to her. That is the only thing that she needs to do to kiss him. Right there and then. Daisy already knows he would be more than a willing participant. She knows that is would be probably even better that their first kiss - which he doesn’t remember. That is probably what is keeping her from actually going for it. Maybe she should just tell him. Or kiss him first and tell him later? ‘No,’ she tells herself. ‘This is not the right time or place for that conversation.’ And yet she can’t help herself. She can’t break the eye contact, she can’t move. She’s frozen in place and maybe even space and time, because what are those? They are inconsequential at this moment. She is lost in that chocolate heart eyes of his. They are reflecting exactly the same emotion, exactly the same desire as hers. He wants to kiss her too, she realizes, but he won’t unless she gives him a go…or kisses him first. And just like that, she can see in all play out in her head. Maybe she should go for it even without that conversation. She should just go for the kiss and not label it with the “later” tag like everything else. Maybe, she will…

“Well, I guess that every starfish needs its own square to make a pillow from,” she said in a low voice, her hand rising up to softly cup his face.

“Hmm, it would seem so,” he hummed in agreement and started to move closer, her touch giving him the courage to do what he wanted for so long.

Or not…

They were suddenly interrupted by a loud crash and sound of something breaking. They both jumped up into a sitting position with a panic written all over their faces.

Deke’s voice echoed from somewhere in the corridor. “Uh, guys?! We don’t really need the main control panel on the bridge anymore, right? Because it kinda, uhm, broke.”

Daisy let out a frustrated sigh and facepalmed. Leave it to Deke to be the buzzkill. She looked over at Daniel. The initial annoyed look on their faces slowly transformed into a huge grin before they both burst out laughing. She hid her face in his shoulder and he put his arm around her waist, enjoying one last moment alone before they go off to deal with the new disaster. Daisy at least knows now that they really need to have that conversation soon. Because whatever this is, she wants it no matter what.

“Guys?!”

Ok, so this was supposed to be a one-shot but if anyone is interested I might write down at least one more chapter about "that conversation" and kiss. I didn't want to include it here since there are already so many fanfics about how Daisy breaks the news about their kiss to Daniel.

I hoped you enjoyed it and I guess we'll see each other in the Dousy trash can.

UPDATE: There is a sequel to this fic, called HOME. Just FYI, if you were interested in reading more Dousy content. Link is here.

[missorgana]

your lucky day

pairing: bruce banner/thor, background pepper potts/tony stark

fandom: marvel cinematic universe

rating: general

word count: 4619

warning: swearing

summary: Bruce gets lost in IKEA. Luckily, he finds someone to help him out. (Ikea AU)

(it’s been Months and i’m finally done with this fic!! this is a very belated birthday gift for @nevillelongsbottom i really hope you like this legend 💕 uwu also thank you to @dykeacademias for beta reading u are a lifesaver seriously. hope you all enjoy this mess!!)

read on ao3

Doctor Bruce Banner is lost in IKEA.

While he certainly didn’t expect to find himself in this position, he can appreciate the comedy in it.

But Bruce is lost. Seriously, utterly lost.

The reason for him to even be in IKEA in the first place is simply Tony and Pepper convincing him to accompany them.

Yes, it might seem strange for a soon-to-be married couple to invite just the one friend along to look at furniture for the apartment they scored.

He’s gotten used to their shenanigans by now. Doesn’t mean he still didn’t lift an eyebrow, though.

“We need your help, Bruce, please?” his best friend asked him, and Tony knows that pleading face doesn’t work on him, but still, he wants them to be happy, you know?

In fact, both of them had that matching face on, because they’re perfect for one another, and he’s got this sense of guilt, and nerve in him, because honestly, he’s clueless as to why they’re choosing him for assistance.

He’s always been a nervous person.

Bruce figures an extra pair of hands would be helpful. And it’s not like he’s weak, wouldn’t call himself bulky either, but he can carry his fair amount.

It seemed like his friends might want his input on things as well, judging by the catalogue on they’d put in front of him on the coffee table, with dog-eared pages all around.

“I’m not really good with design and all, fair warning.” he’d said with an awkward chuckle, but Pepper showcased no worry.

“Don’t stress about it, okay? We just need you to decide for us when we disagree on something. You’re a darling.”

“You don’t really disagree on stuff, though.”

Tony blinked at him, “Have you met us?”

Really, the car ride was pleasant, and he loves them to pieces, but Bruce soon got Tony’s point once they were moving through the store, and not more than ten minutes in was forced to judge the lamps his best friends couldn’t seem to decide on.

It’s a month til their wedding, and they’re already acting like an old married couple.

And honestly, the lamps in question looked more or less the same to him, but he didn’t say that, because Pepper had a compelling argument about the placement and size of them, and Tony had to go with the majority, after all.

Regardless, he didn’t have to listen to their bickering for long, which he couldn’t decide if he found heartwarming, amusing or tiring, because somewhere between the kitchen and the office sections, Bruce lost sight of the couple.

Well, that wasn’t ideal.

Truth be told, he was distracting himself with a phone call, and left them looking at paint samples.

And Bruce figured they moved along without him. So it can’t really be his fault, right?

Or maybe they’re lost somewhere else too, who knows.

Thing is, Bruce has been searching this floor for close to half an hour, and now that he’s finally decided to move upstairs, to try his luck, let’s just say he’d really like to meet whoever designed this floor plan.

In fact, after roaming for another ten minutes, he has to admit he’s not sure where the escalators are located anymore.

Maybe he’s walking in circles. How is this even possible?

Honestly, it’s starting to get ridiculous when Bruce finds himself at the plant section, with little idea of how he got there, and also, since when has IKEA got a plant section?

Tony’s told him more than once that he needs to ‘get into the loop’ and ‘not live under a rock’, which really just means his friend has been begging him to start a twitter account.

Especially when he says some pun that’s not even that funny, and Tony laughs almost so hard he can’t breathe.

He can’t say he doesn’t appreciate that support, and confidence boost, though.

Anyway, there must be, like, a map of this floor, or a help desk, right?

Bruce is more or less dumbfounded, stepping out of the way for an elderly couple who are eagerly making their way towards the floor plants, and decides looking out for an IKEA employee might be his best option right now.

Yes, he did actually send Pepper a text, he’d not that out of the loop, but he’s getting no response, and besides, it might help him more if he had an idea of how to not be stuck in all this gardening interior.

But of course, as his luck has it, and Bruce swears he usually looks out for where he’s going, he very nearly smashes a vase that seemingly appeared out of thin air.

He’s in no way a religious person, but Jesus Christ.

Some luck he does have, as if sent like a prayer, when he spots an incredibly tall figure clad in a yellow and blue striped shirt.

And since their back is turned, Bruce figures he’ll politely tap their shoulder and ask for some guidance in a way that doesn’t sound as stupid as it does in his own head.

Good plan.

Or it would be, if he hadn’t tapped said shoulder, and said person turned around, and Bruce stepped back a little and might’ve smashed something for real.

So this has to confirm that he is, indeed, a nervous person, he guesses, because the vision of the stranger is enough to intimidate the doctor.

Well, intimidate sounds like fear, and that’s definitely not it.

Let’s just say this IKEA employee is a head taller, maybe more, who knows, than Bruce, and aforementioned yellow and blue striped uniform is a polo shirt sitting impossibly tighter than he can imagine it’s supposed to.

They’re well trained, to say the least.

In fact, this stranger’s broad shoulders might be launching him into a mental breakdown, and nope, he can’t be freaking out in an IKEA store because someone working there is, seriously, unexplainably attractive.

They even got their blond hair put up in a bun, for real.

And now, Bruce doesn’t really know how to process this encounter, and how to pretend the internal freaking out didn’t just happen, but luckily, real luck this time, the stranger gives him an easy smile on a silver platter.

Thank his non-existent Gods for customer service.

“Careful there, buddy. What can I help you with?”

The voice is soft and gruff at the same time, Bruce doesn’t really know what it is about it, but it’s… that.

His eyes quickly search for nametag, finding it easily on the employee’s (just as broad) chest, which he doesn’t really have the mind to overthink right now, but seriously, this person might just live in a fitness center.

And said nametag showcases Thor, accompanied by My pronouns are he/him.

Of course this giant of a man is named Thor. Bruce can’t even be surprised, really.

His mind manages to circulate back to the fact that he asked you a question, dammit, and the scientist almost stutters out, “I apologise, I, uh, for my clumsiness.”

Thor simply shrugs, staying silent, and seemingly, letting Bruce collect himself and continue.

“And yes, I, eh, was going to ask for your help. My current situation might be slightly embarrassing, however.” he tells him, finally, Bruce nags himself internally, with a small smile he cannot imagine is anything other than awkward.

And the Greek God-esque man in front of him, Bruce should really stop these God-related equations, anyway, chuckles softly in a way he can’t quite believe comes from a man twice the size of himself.

“I doubt it’s anything I haven’t heard before.” Thor, he remembers, tells him, and takes a quick glance behind him, before continuing, “You know how many customers inquire me about watering fake plants?”

And yeah, Bruce has to smile, a little, because he can imagine, and he supposes that remark did relax him about this situation, to some extent.

Not that he still doesn’t think he’s blushing, or fidgeting with his fingers, but this man’s probably used to that right?

Bruce is careful in his thought, because Thor’s most likely been objectified before, and it’s never anything the doctor wants to do, it’s just that this man might as well have walked out of one of his daydreams.

The tall man’s got this easy smile on his face and Bruce thinks he might be going crazy.

What’s gone into him?

To get out of his head, he chuckles just slightly, appreciating Thor attempting, at least, to make him less embarrassed, and, “Well, I- judging by the floor plan, you might’ve gotten this before, I don’t know. I have to admit I’m sort of lost.”

The man in front of him easily chuckles as well, nodding eagerly, resembling some sort of excitement just for a moment, “Oh, tell me about it! Honestly, took me a month before I knew the way around in here.”

Suddenly, Thor doesn’t look like a figment of the doctor’s imagination, but rather, cute in a way Bruce has never thought of men with his physique before.

As established before, these types of encounters, the rare he’s had, makes him a nervous wreck, and not in any way likely to flirt, which, in this case, would be highly uncomfortable for who his attention is devoted to, so it’s definitely for the best his skills are not brushed up upon.

That is, judging by his recent history of romantic relationships, or lack thereof.

He did come out of a long term one and got his heart terribly broken, but that was more than four years ago, and Tony and Pepper had his back, of course, helped him pick up the pieces.

Anyway, let’s just say he hasn’t been eager with going back to the dating market, which he hates calling it but nevertheless, he’s standing in an IKEA, and he really should think about getting back to his friends and not ponder over his mended heart and nonexistent chances with a man who’s, obviously, only this smiling and calm because he’s told to.

Get a grip, Bruce, you have a phd, for science and the modern world’s sake.

He’s quick to realize he needs to pay attention, now, because surely, he can keep his nerves under control for this. Seriously, he must.

“Where did you come from?” the tall man asks him, and it’s only now Bruce notices the cart next to him.

Typical of him to interrupt a dreamy man, not just standing around, but in the middle of a task, really.

He doesn’t usually swear, but fan-fucking-tastic, as Tony would say.

This embarrassment is going to move to the back of his mind, sooner or later, and so he adjust his glasses on his nose, most typical nervous sign really, and ventures on in the conversation.

“First floor, you see, eh…” and Bruce has to chuckle at himself, again, trying to minimize the eye contact with the tall stranger as much as possibly, which, really, shouldn’t be hard considering their height difference, “I lost sight of my friends, and well, here I am.”

Thor nods solemnly, in a way, like he finds this a completely valid reason.

“Okay, this is standard procedure, really, trust me,” he tells him, because apparently Bruce’s demeanor really is obvious, and it’s almost he’s reassuring him, “What section you think they’d wander off to?”

Well, this question boggles the doctor, because he’s not sure at all.

He does know those two like the back of his mind, but also, they went from browsing lamps, to scented candles, to desk chairs, to wall decor that looked like it was taken straight out of a stock photo search on Google.

Dammit, just give the man an answer! In the end, Bruce’s guess is as good as any, he guesses, and maybe Thor’s got some professional IKEA input, too.

And so he clears his throat and replies, “Can I be honest? They’re kind of weirdos, so, not easy. That’s a good thing, though! They’re newly engaged and took me here to help them find new decor, so…”

“Ah! The neutral third part when disagreements occur, I assume?”

This man’s got a certain pitch in his voice, like someone straight out of film school, Bruce wants to say, like he spent many days on learning Shakespeare plays by heart.

He’s not very versed on theater, himself, he’s only become familiar with this kind of voice by Brunnhilde. Once she’d broke through, he noticed what it was about her tone, and really, it barely changed at all.

It’s like she was born for it, which sounds like an old Hollywood drama, but there you go.

Maybe something about the way she carried herself helped, he supposed, but he still can’t anymore of a finger on it than that.

It smoothes out the voice in certain way. He imagines they know a lot of poetry, those actors.

She told him she’d been to voice coaches and such, besides auditioning, and demonstrated for him time and time again when she needed help practising, and Carol wasn’t available.

Maybe he’s an aspiring actor as well, or something similar, but it’s not like Bruce can ponder on this right now. Sometimes he feels like his brain’s got a life of its own, at least working at double speed.

“Hit the nail on the head, as you say, heh.”

Thor nods once more, and he latches onto this aforementioned cart, which appears fully loaded, and well, Bruce can admire the strength in his forearms, right?

Totally normal. It’s cool, Doctor Banner, you’re being real slick about this.

“Say, I’m not in any way experienced with reading people- or well, tracking them down, I suppose.” the God-like man told him - really, these God comparisons gotta stop - with what he hopes is a lighthearted chuckle, damn, he’s trained well with that smile overpowering most of his features.

Thor continues, “The cafeteria’s pretty much a meeting spot in cases like this, I mean, if it’s of any help to go there?”

Bruce just can’t help smiling back, can he? In any case, it’s becoming more natural for him now, less strained, the man fading less from an otherworldly state and more to quietly admirable.

“That would be lovely. I fear I might disappear from the surface of the earth completely if I keep wandering around like this.”

Right, tell a joke, they’re both laughing, it’s fine. Stop staring Bruce, you’ve thought about how tall he is a million times by now, really?!

In less than a second, the cart’s turned around, and Thor removes a strand of blond hair from his hair, before he starts moving, dear God, is he a marathon runner or something?

“The elevator’s by here, somewhere, don’t worry, I got this.” he tells the doctor, as if he ever doubted his ability in any way, and Thor did quickly realize his pace, slowing down at the first corner, allowing the shorter man to catch up.

“No offense, but this place is a goddamn maze.” Bruce says, slightly surprised when they make it the elevator, like it’s a secret land he would’ve never found on his own. Luckily, Thor’s still not fazed.

Chuckling, still. You got this under control, Bruce. Somehow.

*

The cafeteria’s queue is abnormally long, the soda has definitely been sitting out for a while, the meatballs are steaming hot.

There’s too much noise for Bruce’s liking, but he doesn’t really have much choice of where to go right now.

But today still holds surprises, clearly.

The doctor expressed his gratitude to Thor for leading him this way, which really was hilariously easy now that he thinks about it, but you know, the elevator was actually hidden away, so.

It’s not like he can justify it for himself anymore, so he’ll just give up on it.

The thing is, Bruce in no way expected the handsome stranger to help him anymore so than guiding him here. Only when they stand in the foyer, looking out at the many sterile white tables for customers to have their lunch at, he tells him to stay where he is.

Well obviously, he might get lost again, and there’s no way he wants a second wave of embarrassment right now. But also, surely, Thor has to keep going with whatever business he’s doing?

It seems the man notices Bruce’s scrunched brow, since he dishes out further explanation a few seconds later, “I have to bring this down to storage. It only takes five minutes, trust me!”

Bruce can’t say he expected that. He doesn’t have time to answer, anyway, because Thor once again picks up a pace as if he’s running for his life, and is gone before he knows it.

Guess he’ll stay put. Guess he’ll try to not stand awkwardly around as mothers and children and students are milling around him. It’s easier said than done.

Luckily, because damn, that thing really is with him today, huh?

Well, a minor misadventure, which led him to luck. That could mean something, but Bruce can’t think of that much, because, luckily , just as the fidgeting returns for, like, the 20th time, his phone buzzes in his backpocket.

Of course, Pepper’s texting him now, thank god , because he might go out and trip over himself if that Greek God himself returns, which, conveniently, he does as that moment.

It’s almost like he’s smiling even more now, if that’s even possible.

And he watches Thor wipe sweat off of his forehead with one eye, replies back to Pepper with an urgency, and she’s calm, because she manages to do that in almost any situation, she’s gotten used to Tony, after all, and lets them know his location.

“Hey, buddy!” the tall man comes to a stop, puts both his hands on his hips and shoots a look toward the bustling queue, which, after all, is significantly shorter now, they all work quickly around here, huh.

“You hear from your friends?” he continues his sentence, maybe because Bruce doesn’t know what to answer and he’s freaking out, maybe because he’s simply curious. It’s a 50/50, really.

Again, he really should stop thinking of a million things at once, and nods instead, and now, for some reason, Thor’s got them drinks and a table, kindly offering to wait with Bruce till Tony and Pepper’s finished with their shopping.

Well, he doesn’t offer as much as tells him, makes his way to the queue even though the doctor was about to refuse, but the deed is done, anyway, and he appreciates it.

Bruce does wonder the tall man’s going to get in trouble, though. Surely, hanging out with a customer can’t be allowed?

“You know, uh, you don’t have to wait with me.” he can’t help chuckling awkwardly, because everything he does becomes awkward around Thor, who seems so easy going, it’s insane, “I don’t want you to get in trouble with your boss.”

The stranger, or, not really a stranger anymore, he supposes, is eating like he hadn’t breakfast, which does worry Bruce, but he shakes his head and gulps down some more soda before he speaks.

“Oh no, it’s fine. I was overdue for a lunch break, anyway.”

And he can’t help but just shrug.

A small smile isn’t totally awkward, right? This is fine. Just two dudes hanging out. Thor’s on his goddamn lunch break, he’s working , Bruce, what did you expect?

“Besides, don’t tell anyone I said this, but the conversations my coworkers usually engage in are, um,” he turns his head, and nope, only customers in sight for now, surely those behind the counter can’t hear what he wants to say, “rather dull.”

Okay, he has to laugh a little bit. Because Thor’s laughing, that is.

He’s kind of, sort of, insulting someone, but he’s being so incredibly nice about it. As nice as possible.

And now, he’s totally not watching him, come on, they’re having a conversation, this man seems to be fidgeting now.

In a different way than Bruce, surely, kind of like an excited labrador who’s owner just come home after a two week vacation.

It’s cute. Shut up, he can find him cute, not only teenagers say that, right?

Bruce is feeling like a teenager, seeing some jock in a varsity jacket walking down the hall, every student eager to just have him look at you, just once. Maybe he’s been there before. He barely knows this man, keep it together!

Him beating up himself is interrupted by Thor, again, “Do you mind if I am a tiny bit nosy?”

The doctor blinks. “I guess it depends on what topic we’re discussing.”

Thor gulps some more soda. Bruce truly has to wonder if IKEA feeds their employees at all.

“Right! Right. I just thought, since you know my name, you know, I might be allowed to ask your name.”

And another surprise. More shock, maybe. Definitely not what he expected him to ask, but what did he expect, really?

Bruce does smile, and it’s like, okay, this is casual, it’s like the customer service barrier is a bit broken down now, “Of course. It’s Bruce.”

Thor nods again, excitedly. Excited about everything.

And he’s not usually like this, but this man’s attitude is sort of rubbing off on him. Weird.

“What do you do, Bruce?” and Thor’s constantly removing strands of hair from that worn out bun, “Other than being a good friend, that is.”

Now why does he have to go and compliment him? It’s thrown out like it’s nothing, like it’s easy, and his self hatred won’t let him say it’s easy, but he takes it, because it seems like Thor means it. He hopes so, anyway.

He does laugh, to keep a little distance, “Uh, well, I’m a professor.”

Bruce doesn’t exactly like to advertise, and shout out to the world about his PhDs. No, he’s proud of his work, don’t get him wrong.

But he doesn’t feel particularly impressive compared to some of his role models, who progressed faster than himself, and anyway, he isn’t great with compliments. As is obvious from this conversation.

Needless to say, if this man gets anymore excited, he might just explode in front of him.

“Holy shit,” he blurts, he assumes, because oh, how the tables turned, when the embarrassment Bruce has been feeling is mirrored on Thor’s face, “oh, dear God, sorry for my language. But I love that. I’m afraid I’m just an actor.”

So, he guessed right, he notes. Doesn’t really know what do with that assumption.

“That’s not really a just, is it?”

He shrugs.

They’re both too humble for their own good, in the end, Bruce thinks. At least Thor is only slightly visibly upset when he brushes off the compliments, or at least, tries to signal to his new acquaintance that his work really isn’t that big of a deal.

He does tell him more details when Thor asks, of course, he’s always been relatively polite, hopefully, but Bruce has never been good at not comparing himself to others, as you might’ve guessed.

“That is a big deal, though!” the tall man says, sounding more sincere than anyone Bruce has ever met, “You are brilliant.”

He’s not blushing. Not at all, except he is, a little bit, anyway, “I mean, I- thank you. We’ve only still just me, though.”

“I can tell. And we shouldn’t underestimate ourselves. I’m still learning that, as you can tell.”

Of course, he’s right. Of course, this man encourages a relative stranger to be confident. Of course, it’s lovely.

And this conversation goes on forever, which probably isn’t realistic, he’s aware, but well, Bruce is getting comfortable.

It’s stupid, he shouldn’t, he knows.

But this man is so friendly. Endearing. And he has to think, honestly, how can anyone not immediately be drawn to him?

Thor does tell a lot of kind of ridiculous jokes. That’s endearing too, dammit.

Also, maybe, Bruce wants to spit out his soda when the half God, half man asks him for scientifically related pick up lines. He doesn’t, of course, he’s not an animal.

This can be restrained, sure, and it’s not like his new… friend means anything by it. Really, this is just a once in a lifetime acquaintance. Probably never going to see each other again.

But it’s a fun run.

Maybe he should just thank his lucky stars for this. Maybe Bruce should just get his head out of his ass and go on an actual date, instead of getting nervous about someone in a goddamn furniture store.

Thing is, this nice time ends far too quickly, not soon after the doctor’s almost, completely relaxed, as much excitement as this one man contains, it soothes his nerves. That’s ridiculous, isn’t it?

At least, it’s like Thor can tell how embarrassed he is, and cancels it out by telling embarrassment stories of his own.

Or spilling ketchup on his uniform button up, newly washed, even. Bruce would feel bad for finding it a little funny, if the man didn’t laugh at himself and smack himself in the head.

The self awareness is admirable. The doctor still doesn’t laugh, because he’s just, God, way too empathetic. He feels bad for him.

But yes, it does end, because Tony’s familiar exclaim of “Brucie!” wakes him up from whatever dumb haze this is.

No more time to get lost in this impossible relation. Sadly.

Of course, his friends’ cart is filled to the brim. They have a bag, too.

Pepper rushes for a hug, because she’s a sweetheart and worries too much, as usual, “Thank God! Oh Bruce, I feel terrible we lost you.”

And he pats her shoulder in reassurance, chuckles, casts a glimpse to Thor, who’s standing there like an overgrown puppy, assuming they’ll part ways soon, “I got by, thankfully.”

Indeed he did. After a small exchange not much time passes before Thor has to go back to work (really, how long of a break is he allowed?) Bruce wonders, because surely more than half an hour must’ve gone by.

And the doctor thanks him for the help for the millionth time, like the other times weren’t enough, but he appreciates it, and whatever this relation is, but he doesn’t mention that last part, of course.

The blond man is humble again. Of course.

And, of course, Tony teases him for about the whole car ride to Bruce’s flat about how he ‘was saved by a tall handsome stranger’, and he ‘should’ve made a move, surely’.

It’s not like he disagrees with the savior part.

Pepper shakes her head along with him.

*

Maybe, for once, Tony’s right about something, to his credit, because Bruce spent a lot of time convincing him, and himself, that the man was just being polite when offering to wait with him.

And the conversation, too, as genuine as it felt.

Needless to say, the slip of notepad paper with the Ikea logo on tip that the doctor finds in his jacket pocket a day late, written on in what might be the most pleasing handwriting he’s seen in a while, was surprising.

There's also a phone number.

This is breaking all the protocols, and I am terrified that you will be offended, I sincerely apologise if so, I in no way want to make you uncomfortable.

I did enjoy our conversation very much. I would also enjoy the opportunity to see you again, if you agree, perhaps with other surroundings than Swedish furniture.

Sincerely, Thor (from IKEA).

Maybe he types the number into his phone. Maybe he calls it right away.

Of course, Tony doesn’t need to know that right now.

[sad-af1121]

Oh Baby Baby (One-shot)

Summary: You were having a hard time balancing work, home life, and a baby, causing you severe exhaustion so Bucky decides to look after the baby. Everything starts off smooth, but babies aren’t that easy to handle.  Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 1.4k Warnings: fluuuuff, language, cutenessss  A/N:  Hey lovelies! It feels great to be writing again! I am a bit slow rn bc I have to get back to the swing of things, but rest assured I hope to be writing more content (which I do have planned :’) With that said, please enjoy!! And a BIG thank you to @colonelconfusion​ for looking over this. Feedback is welcomed 💜 | Not my gif

Whoever told you postpartum fatigue was all in your head was a fucking liar. Ten rigorous hours of labor then having to endure delivery made you extremely exhausted and lifeless. The baby blues were at their peak but you made a priority to work with your new lifestyle than to struggle. The first two months of being a new mother were rough; you constantly made sure not to mess up with anything, especially now since you were taking care of a small human that you and Bucky created. Obviously, you two were aware that you learn as you go, but everything was just overwhelming for both of you. It felt like Bucky and you were either nursing, changing, or bouncing your baby girl to sleep every hour- a never-ending loop of parenthood. Don’t get it wrong though, every moment spent with your newborn was exciting and full of surprises. Bucky was smitten the first time he laid his eyes on her and vowed to keep her happy and loved- the same was true with the rest of her family, aka the Avengers. 

Six months have passed now and things are slowly becoming second nature to you both. But coming back to work has taken its toll and exhaustion pulls your eyes closed whenever you are enjoying the peace of holding your child. You’d shake and stretch your limbs from feeling the fatigue all over again. Whenever the case got bad, Bucky would step in and take care of little Rosie so that you can get a few peaceful hours of rest. Calling it like a game of tag-teaming, punching your card in when you were ready, and punching it back out when you desperately needed a break.  

“You sure, Buck? I can wait another hour if you want to watch your game,” you said, feeling the guilt residing in your stomach. But the deep grey bags under your eyes and slouched posture were enough evidence for Bucky to see how badly you needed rest. 

“Yes, I’m positive. Rosie’s fed, changed and about to knock out- thanks to the boob,” he smirked, earning a huff of laughter from you. “I’ll have time to watch it on the DVR and catch up with the boys through texts. It's a win-win situation, babe” he assured, leaning in to place a soft kiss to your forehead. 

A wave of relief washed over you, a deep sigh of content releasing afterward. “Fine. But wake me up in two hours, Bucky. Don’t let me oversleep. I’ve gotta make dinner and do the laundry too,” you emphasized. The stress was beginning to come back, making your palms sweat and your fatigue to deepen.

“Oh... kay, time to sleep,” he urged, carefully pushing you into your room. Pulling the covers back, you slid underneath the blanket and snuggled against Bucky’s pillow, rubbing the side of your face into the cloud-like object before slowly wandering to sleep. After checking to see if you had fallen asleep, Bucky quietly tip-toed out of the room, closing the door just slightly behind him. 

“Phew,” Bucky breathed, looking down at his daughter who also managed to fall asleep in his arms. “Hmm, that was easy.” 

About 45 minutes later, Bucky’s laid back in his chair with a bottle of beer in one hand and his phone in the other. He was able to sync the tv sound to his headphones so that there weren’t any loud sounds around the house that’d wake up his girls. And trust it, that was the last thing he wanted. 

“Oh, eat my shorts, Parker!” He harshly whispered, sending a spider and shoe emoji to Peter in their group text. Unfortunately, Bucky’s team was behind a couple points, nothing too major for a loss, but enough for Clint, Peter, and Tony to make fun of. 

Without realizing it, Bucky was loud enough for Rosie to hear and she woke up whimpering and upset. Her small wails were heard through the baby monitor and Bucky quickly paused the television and stilled. He grabbed the monitor and waited, hearing complete silence which resulted in his belief that she fell back to sleep. However, as he’s about to press play, Rosie lets out a loud cry, the sound echoing not only in her nursery but into the living room, too.

“Shit, shit.”

As if wild ducks were chasing him, Bucky rushed to the crib and carefully picked her up. “Daddy’s here, Rosie. Shhh, let's not cry that loud huh? See, I’m right here, baby girl,” he cooed softly, hoping the combination of bouncing her and talking would ease the crying. But it only made it worse. 

Bucky was in full panic mode at this point. 

No matter what he did, Rosie refused to stop. He tried feeding her, gave her a clean diaper, even played baby mozart- yet it wasn’t enough. Nothing was working. Copious amount of sweat began to build up everywhere as Bucky felt the pressure and panicked.

“Rosie, please for your old man’s sake, please stop crying,” Bucky whined, rubbing small circles on her back before taking a seat on the rocking chair. Right as he was about to lose hope and wake you up, he does the only and last thing he can think of at the moment; he started to fake cry like his baby. 

With Rosie in his lap, he brought her face to face and continued to fake cry with her. “Please stop. C’mon buddy, your mama’s gonna kill me.”

As Bucky bawled dramatically, his facial features twist and turn into ugly expressions that capture Rosie’s attention. She quiets down as her tear-stained cheeks mold upwards to a grin before she erupts into giggles, throwing her hands together in happiness. Snapping his eyes open, Bucky chuckled breathlessly in relief, shaking his head with disbelief. 

“I’m glad to know you find amusement in my death,” He smirked, blowing a strand of hair out from his face. Rosie cooes for a bit then snuggles in Bucky’s chest, grabbing a fist full of his shirt. He doesn’t pull her away because he soon notices she’s dozing off to sleep. 

After all that, Bucky realized the baby just wanted his attention.

“God, she’s truly your daughter,” you said, leaning against the door frame. You nearly gave Bucky a heart attack, causing him to jump at your voice. 

“Rude.” 

You cross your arms over your chest, a smirk threatening to spread across your face, “Crying and whining when she wants attention? Definitely you, Barnes.” You said a matter of factly. 

He pursed his lips and nodded, “I’m assuming you're ready to tag in now?” For your amusement, you grab a stuffed penguin from Rosie’s toy shelf and chuck it at Bucky’s head. 

Biting his lip, Bucky nods and turns to look at you, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 

-

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[odinsonsobsessed]

Damn Him

Inspired by the pictures and gifs of Wimbledon 2019

You can hardly stay focused on anything with an excited Tom dressed in a new suit for a day at the All England Lawn Tennis & Croquet Club. All you want to do is peel that expensive suit off of that body.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston/Reader || Word Count: 1.6k || Rated: T || Warnings: Tom Hiddleston being a full course meal. I mean seriously, how does it get any yummier than him?

Steps were heard in the hallway coming toward your bedroom. Perfect timing, you had just slipped into your floral dress and you needed to be zipped up.

“Will you zip me up?” You called out and not but a few seconds later, you felt his fingers on your back. Tom pulled on the zipper for what seemed like a century, his movements were slow as if he were savoring the task. His breath hit the back of your neck and was soon replaced with his lips as he pressed a couple of kisses to the nape.

“Is this new?”

You bit your lip, “Yeah…” Your reply was breathless and you mentally cursed him for doing this to you before the two of you went out for the afternoon.

“I like it. Fits you perfectly.” His lips touched your cheek in a quick peck as he moved around you to the closet.

So do your clothes. You thought with a grin.

With your bottom lip between your teeth, your eyes were glued to his deliciously curved backside as you watched him go, his navy blue pants hugged him generously, giving you a very pleasing view. His light blue dress shirt was tight around his upper back and shoulders, showing off his lean but muscular build. The view was brief as he disappeared into the closet, but returned a few moments later with his new racket patterned tie that you had gotten him for this birthday a few months back. It warmed your heart to see his eyes light up when he'd opened it that day, a long lasting smile graced his lips and you knew he loved it.

“Return the favor?” He asked but you were already holding out your hand for him to pass you the tie. You ran your fingers along it, feeling its tiny ridges as you held it in your grip before looping it around his neck so that you could fasten it. You noticed the childlike grin on his face, the one he typically got when he was about to go somewhere that he thoroughly enjoyed.

“Are you excited?”

His grin never faltered as he shook his head stiffly, trying not to move too much as you fixed his tie. “No… Maybe."

“Don’t lie to me. You’re ecstatic. You can barely keep still.” You giggled, thinking about how adorable it was that this kind of stuff made him this happy. It was the little things.

Tom chuckled sheepishly, “It’s supposed to be an interesting tournament this year. A lot of promising players.”

You finished up with his tie and couldn’t help but stand up on the tip of your toes with your arms draped around his neck to give him a kiss. He placed his hands to your back and brought you a little closer, bringing your lips more firmly against his. You groaned into the kiss as he ran his warm, slick tongue across your bottom lip. Pulling back, you gave him a playful glare, "Now that's not fair. We don't have time for this."

"You started it." He gave your lips a short, chaste kiss and removed himself from you.

"Wh- How do you figure that?!" You called after him as he walked away. Tom left you to go finished getting ready, leaving you standing there with your heart beating fast and wondering how in the hell you started it. If he was talking about your quickly intended kiss, then he was wrong! It wasn't your fault he responded so well to it.

You shook your head as you slipped on a pair of heels and went to fetch your jewelry, your mind completely stuck on that kiss. Damn him.

As you were putting your earrings in, you saw him step into view by the reflection of the mirror on your vanity.

Oh fuck me.

Now with his completed look in your view, you felt all of your breath leave your lungs. He looked like a damn treat. No, scratch that. He looked like an entire fucking meal. A majestic lion is what really came to mind when you first laid eyes on him, his mane and beard was groomed to your liking. His naturally waved hair slicked back and his beard neatly trimmed. Your eyes wandered downward to the rest of his body. The darkness of his suit made him look taller than he already was, the jacket fit him to a T. Now that you had distance between you, it gave you a better view of his whole situation... and more importantly, his package situation.

You swallowed, returning your attention to the earring you had tried to stick into your earlobe at least five times, but failed. Your distracted movements had seemingly gone unnoticed by Tom, who had come up behind you to place his hands onto your waist.

"Are you ready to go? Our car will be here in ten minutes."

"Yeah, almost." Finally, you focused and got the earring to cooperate and thread into your ear.

Tom's hands slid his hands to your stomach, pulling you against his chest in a warm embrace. You rested your arms on top of his and squeezed them in return. You turned your head and he kissed you a couple of times before pulling back to look at you. "You look absolutely beautiful, my darling. You make me a proud husband."

You giggled, gazing into his pretty blue eyes that were staring back into yours. "I'm just as proud to be your wife. Look how handsome you are in your new Ralph Lauren suit. Such a stud."

Tom glanced down at himself and you felt the tips of his curls brush against the side of your neck with the tilt of his head. "Is that what this is?" He mumbled and a chuckle escaped his lips as he looked back up at you with a playful grin, "A stud, huh?"

"Yes," You sighed dramatically, "I'm going to have to bat all the old ladies off of you today."

"Nevermind that you imply that only someone old would be attracted to me or that Tennis is only spectated by older individuals…" You couldn't help but giggle at his hilarious assumption. He raised his eyebrows in a playfully shocked look, "You would harm all of those elderly women?"

You let a wicked grin form on your lips, "You make me do crazy things, Mr. Hiddleston."

Tom laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Crazy things, hm? Why don't you show me what-" His suggestion was cut short by his cell phone ringing in his pocket. He pressed a kiss to your cheek and answered the call, walking off to talk to the person on the other end of the line.

You assumed that it was your driver, reaching over to take your small handbag from the vanity and following him out. Sure enough, Tom was ushering you out of the house and into the car.

The whole way over, you glanced over at Tom as he chatted with your longtime, trusted driver about today's plans, all the while unknowingly holding your undivided attention as his hand held yours between you, his thumb brushing your knuckles constantly, almost like he was reminding you that his sexy self was sitting there so close. They discussed what they thought the outcome would be and other Tennis related politics, which kept him too busy to catch you eyefucking him in his suit.

You wanted nothing more than to thread your fingers into that golden brown hair and tug him to you. Fantasies about fucking him in the backseat right then and there ran wild in your mind.

Damn him.

As much as you loved to see his suit on, you couldn't wait to take it off of him later. No really, you couldn't wait. You couldn't focus on the match, you didn't have a clue most of the time. You tried not to keep looking at him during the entirety of the event, but you couldn't help it. He just looked so good. Thank goodness for that unfaltering focus of his, you were free to oogle him as much as you had liked without him scolding your lack of attention toward the game.

The day dragged on, seeming like it lasted for weeks before you were finally on your way home. Tom was in a good mood, chatting happily with driver about the outcome while your hand rested on his thigh, mostly going unnoticed. He draped his arm around you when you'd done it, but that's about it. Gosh, he was so oblivious sometimes. Sometimes he had no idea the affect he had on you.

The moment the driver stopped outside of your house, you were ready to go inside. Obviously, Tom was not. He kept his conversation going, his enthusiasm would have been cute if arousal wasn't swirling around in your belly with anticipation.

Finally, after you couldn't take it anymore, you laid your hand gently on his arm, "Tom…"

He looked at you with the realization that you were waiting on him and flashed you an apologetic look. "Sorry love. We'll go inside now." He turned back to the driver and said his goodbyes before the two of you exited the car.

You thought you were home free when Tom stepped out of the car, until the driver said something and Tom turned back to answer him.

"Ohhhh no you don't." You tugged Tom's arm and he gasped, quickly saying goodbye to him.

"What's this about?"

"I've been mentally undressing you all day, I'm not waiting a second longer." You grabbed his tie and pulled him toward the house as he grinned at you.

"So about these crazy things I make you do, Mrs. Hiddleston. Care to show me now?"

"Oh trust me, Mr. Hiddleston, I plan to."

@fandom-and-feminism @fadingcoast @igotloki @mrshiddleston-uk @nikkalia @manager-of-mischief @spidey-bites @kcd15 @dangertoozmanykids101 @xxloki81xx @devilbat @furstinnajoelle @exbandragirl @sabine-leo @screw-real-life-i-pick-fandoms @officiallyunofficialperson @joyofbebbanburg @littlefrogstuff @wolfsmom1 @wrappedinlokisarms @scorpionchild81 @theoneanna @drakesfiance @awkwardfangirl2014 @archy3001

[flourchildwrites]

Seconds

Call their predicament fate or karma; blame it on the moonlight or the romantic music playing during the movie's wedding scene. Whatever forces were at work, the opportunity was there for Rebecca and Jean, ready and ripe for the taking. The only question that remained was if she was hungry enough for seconds in spite of the complications.

It was going to be a very interesting vacation.

Written for @fmasecretsanta2019 for @areyousanta

Fandom:  Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga, Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types  

Relationship/Pairing:  Rebecca Catalina/Jean Havoc, Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang, Lan Fan/Ling Yao

Genre:  Modern AU, Cruise Ship Vacation, Night After the One Night Stand

Rating:  Teen And Up Audiences (contains suggestive sexual references)

Word Count:  2,288 words

Read on AO3

Carnival’s newest attraction, the Mardi Gras, was a ridiculous boat, at least in the opinion of one, Rebecca Catalina.

The cruise ship’s towering atrium featured floor to ceiling windows that courted nearly panoramic waterway views.  Numerous restaurants dotted the ship map; their descriptions were laced with four dollar words such as “fragrant,” “authentic” or “sumptuous” that made Rebecca’s mouth water.  And if the ginormous pool on the lido deck was not enough, there was always the wonderland dubbed the “Ultimate Playground” stuck awkwardly on the back of the ship to consider.  The colorful tracks of the world’s first rollercoaster at sea cut through the thick, humid breeze, and on the first day of the cruise, the line to ride the attraction stretched around the deck.

The atmosphere oozed excess. It was just the sort of laissez-faire ambiance that Riza Hawkeye shied away from.  It was the precise brand of absurdity that her wealthy grandfather would choose to celebrate her college graduation.  Not that he had been invited, and in this respect, Riza and Rebecca’s vacation mimicked Riza’s upbringing.  George Grumman generously financed it, but ever-faithful Becca was left to weather the changeable tides alongside her best friend.

Not all waters had been as navigable as those of the murky Mississippi River.  

“Enjoying the view?”

Rebecca startled at the sound of Riza’s voice.  She grounded her thoughts in the here and now, honing in on the small talk circulating around the dinner table.  Her dark, wing-lined eyes darted away from the windows of the formal dining room and toward the beaming face of her best friend.  Riza Hawkeye looked happy; if not for the three-course meal they’d just devoured, for the new company at their table — her long-distance boyfriend, Roy Mustang and his tagalong pal, Jean Havoc.

But where Jean was concerned, Rebecca had her reasons for reticence.  Reasons she was not apt to share with Riza during this vacation, a trip that was supposed to be all about her best friend and not Becca’s bedroom faux pas.

She simply wouldn’t think about how she had foolishly spent the night with Jean before they’d remet as travel companions of Roy and Riza that morning.  Rebecca wouldn’t think about the lip-biting set of abs hiding underneath his well-pressed button-down.  She tried not to notice the way she caught Jean’s baby-blue eyes darting away from her over dinner.  By all accounts, their night together had been meant as a fun, casual encounter, but the next day’s harsh revelation had complicated matters.

He’d said he was on a business trip when He caught her eye in the hotel bar the night before departure, and Rebecca had not questioned him further.  Not when his sweet talk was so saccharine and the rough stubble on his chin had felt so good on her-

“Are you feeling alright, Rebecca?” Riza asked; her lightly penciled eyebrows were knit with concern underneath stylish round glasses.

“Yes, sorry!’ Rebecca replied happily.  Too happily, perhaps. “I’m absolutely fine. Wonderful even.”

She was not fine, let alone wonderful.  She was scared shit-less of being called out by the elephant at their dinner table.  A very attractive, extremely capable elephant with who had played her body like a fiddle. His brash melody was stuck on a loop in her mind.

Rebecca watched as Jean licked a bit of chocolate mousse from his spoon, and she suppressed an indignant eye-roll.  The least he could do was be less like sex appeal on a stick.  He could pretend not to know that he tied her stomach into knots, courtesy of their shared secret.  But given the way those baby-blues bore into her, nevermind that she refused to meet his gaze, Rebecca realized that they’d have to talk about it.

The sooner, the better.

God, she hated being 23 sometimes.  Young enough to take some disastrous missteps in good faith but too old to run away from her problems.

“So Catalina, how about we take a walk to clear your mind,” Jean purred. “Get to know each other a little better while these two catch up.  What do you say?”

A sinking feeling settled into the pit of Rebecca’s stomach, and it turned over on itself when she spied Riza’s hopeful expression.

The things she did for the love of a friend.

“Sounds like a great idea,” Rebecca uttered; her words sounded stiff as they slipped through her burgundy lips. “I’m gonna make a stop by the bar before we leave.”

She rose from their table with her room key clutched firmly in the palm of her hand.  Even as her gaze lingered upon Roy and Riza’s intertwined fingers, she bid them good evening and walked across the dining room to the mahogany bar at the far end of the large room.  Through a stilted smile, Rebecca ordered another glass of cabernet sauvignon, urging the bartender to be generous as the long shadow of Jean Havoc crept over her shoulder.

If the previous night had taught Rebecca anything, it was that Havoc was a livewire, energetic and unpredictable when he allowed his passions to overpower his common sense.  But the chilly night air on the lido deck appeared to temper Jean’s demeanor.  Quietly, he sat back against the sturdy frame of a ship deck chair with the top three buttons of his shirt undone and his hands leisurely placed on the back of his head.  The spiky ends of his hair caught the humid breeze as he stared back at Rebecca with a lazy, contemplative smile.  His patience offered no inroad, but neither did it discourage a conversation.

Rebecca got the message loud and clear — she would have to bring it up, or they would simply sit outside for the remainder of the evening watching Crazy Rich Ishvalans play across a large screen over the pool.

She took yet another sip of wine and placed the stemmed glass on the table between their lawn chairs.  After adjusting the hem of her green maxi dress, Rebecca swung her sandal-clad feet upon the lower slats of her deck chair.  A long, slow sigh escaped her throat, and she, ever brazen, decided to jump headfirst into uncharted territory.

“I think it goes without saying that we should not mention what happened last night to Riza or Roy,” she announced. “Still, I think it would be beneficial for us to talk privately since I have some questions.”

“Don’t worry, Catalina.  I don’t kiss and tell,” he said with an amused air. “But now that you mention it, I might have some questions too.  Ladies first.”

Rebecca attempted to organize her thoughts by level of importance.  But her wounded pride, a part of her that resented she’d been lied to, spoke up first.

“You said you were in New Orleans on business,” she stressed. “This cruise doesn’t seem like business to me.”

Jean shrugged his shoulders, turning his head to look at her.

“I thought work provided a better excuse to make a clean break, and honestly, I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

His tone shifted, tending toward a playful vibe. “I know we agreed to keep it casual, but who’s to say you wouldn’t have fallen madly in love with me and tried to follow me onto the ship if you had known.”

Rebecca’s left eyebrow arched incredulously even as her lips quirked with suppressed laughter.

“Does that happen to you often?” She quipped.

“No,” Jean chuckled. “I don’t do that sort of thing anymore.  Not since I got injured three years ago. Consider last night an exception.”

“That’s right,” Rebecca hummed, “you used to be a Marine.  Jealous boyfriend catch up to you and made you change your ways?”

“Nah,” he said, still in good humor, “it was a bullet.  But enough about me; my turn.  Do you do one night stands often, Catalina?  Am I just another person in a long line of notches on your bedpost?”

She tipped the glass of wine to her lips and drank, mindful that Jean was giving as good as he had gotten. “I don’t think we’ve had near enough alcohol for that question.”

And this, she meant wholeheartedly.

“But, to give you a direct answer, no,” Rebecca admitted. “I’ve been too busy with my MBA program to go out, much less date.  Last night was…”

She didn’t want to parrot his words, though certainly, their time together had been ‘an exception.’ Phrases swam in her wine-drenched mind; none were suitable.  Last night had been many things, satisfying and unexpected, to say the least.  But to sum it up in a single word...

“Needed,” Jean added. His eyes stayed fixed on a dark point in the distance, between the blanket of stars and the cloak of dark water. “For both of us, I think.”

It was impossible to get a read on him.  Rebecca was left to marvel at the way Jean had coaxed the answer straight from her subconscious.  Speechless, she could only nod and hum her agreement as her fingers fidgeted with the straps of her sandals.  She scanned the lido deck, looking for some sight to redirect a conversation that had gone too far, too fast for her liking.

Small groups and couples, not unlike Jean and herself, dotted the layout.  Some watched the movie, transfixed by the hilarity of a makeover montage featuring the film’s gruffest character, Buccaneer.  Others simply sat engrossed in quiet conversation and after dinner drinks.

A pair of young Xingese kids, probably high school-aged, caught Rebecca’s eye. They sat on the edge of the deck with their legs dangling into a large pool at the center.  A boy with slender, slanting eyes reached down into the water and brought his hand up, playfully splashing the girl next to him.  She laughed in response, running a prosthetic hand through her hair and clearing the water from her heart-shaped face.  And in the blink of an eye, she pulled him into the water.

The scene read like young love and are Becca watched as a childhood crush matured into something meaningful right before her eyes.  The teens chased each other through the pool and moved as if they were two halves of the same whole, different as could be and complementary down to their core.  When finally the girl caught the boy, she pinned her arms around him against the side of the deck. He laughed, brushing her bangs from her face.  The apples of her cheeks turned cherry red.

“Do you see them?” Rebecca asked, nodding subtly in the direction of the pair. “What I wouldn’t give to go back to that age knowing what I know now.”

“And what would you do differently?” Jean asked.

She told herself that he was only indulging her to be polite, but still, Rebecca answered.  Sour memories of her high school regrets were slow to be forgotten, and the question was quickly answered.

“I cared too much about what others thought,” she explained. “Spent hours trying to make my hair straighter or attempting to do my makeup the same way.  I swapped band for cheerleading and junk food for gym classes.  The only thing I never compromised on was having Riza as a best friend, and sometimes I’m afraid that the pressure I put on myself to conform rubbed off on her during difficult times.”

So much for keeping the conversation light.

“I used to be like that,” Jean admitted.

“You cared too much about what other people thought?”

“No, I regretted past stuff so much that I forgot to live in the present.”

Rebecca was surprised by his candor, and she turned to face him, unsure if she should end the conversation or listen to further insights.  Before she could give her course of action a second thought, Jean sat up, and, to Rebecca’s continued shock, he pulled at his side of his shirt.  The action revealed a patch of puckered skin, red and raised, in the shape of a crater.  Jean pointed to the modest scar on his side.

“It looks small, doesn’t it?” he said. “But that bullet nearly cost me everything.  Took me a year to walk again, and the doctors say my long term prognosis involves a wheelchair, but I can’t dwell on any of the what-ifs.  I have to take the good stuff life offers me while I can seize it.”

Rebecca couldn’t help herself.  She had to ask, needed to know why this theory of his, contrived as it might be, struck a chord.

“And what is life offering you right now?”

The question might have been bait — this much Rebecca was willing to admit.  Call their predicament fate or karma; blame it on the moonlight or the romantic music playing during the wedding scene of the movie.  Whatever forces were at work, the opportunity was there, ready and ripe for the taking.

All they had to do was seize it.  Bottle the spark that cracked between them if only for a handful of nights at sea.

Jean leaned in and tucked a lock of curly hair behind Rebecca’s ear.

“I know we agreed not to let it happen again, but I get the feeling life is offering me a second helping of what I had last night.”

It was her turn to flash a knowing grin.

“I never said the first time was the last.  I just don’t think we should let it complicate Riza and Roy’s vacation.”

“Well then,” Jean whispered.  His hot breath curled around the curve of her ear, sending shivers down her spine. “Are you hungry for seconds?”

For the second time in as many days, Rebecca/SelfRestraint.exe failed to run properly.  Fortunately, Rebecca/ThinkingTooMuch.exe was also compromised.

“Starving,” she replied.

A/N:  Surprise, @areyousanta! I am your back up gift giver for the FMA Secret Santa 2019.  I heard you like Havolina, Royai and Lingfan, so I tried to tie those ships into this modern AU. However, I admit, this one-shot is primarily fluffy (and suggestive) Havolina. The struggle to keep this fic PG-13 was real, and I'm not sure that flourchildwrites/goodjudgment.exe was functioning properly, lol. As always, I really appreciate all the kudos, bookmarks, subscriptions, comments, likes and reblogs my readers generously provide. Don't be a stranger and check out my tumblr, @flourchildwrites. Send me questions, comments or whatever else may be on your mind.

[the-sweetest-dragon]

A Summer Like Never Before

- A Summer Job AU - No Pennywise - Georgie is still alive - Mostly tomfoolery - 

Fandom: It

Characters: Stan, Richie, Bev, Bill, Mike, Eddie, Ben

Word Count: 1180

Ships: Eventual Benverly, Reddie, Stan x Patty

Warnings: Out of character behavior

AN: did I move Stan’s chapter up because I wanted to read it?  Perhaps... perhaps.

Tags: @nerdsarebetter @just-another-shipper-01 @audder17 @sapphic-bottlexap

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four

___________________________________________________

Chapter Five

Stanley Uris is a very patient man, or at least he thinks he is.  He liked things quiet and calm, and anywhere Richie was not is somewhere he wanted to be.  Which is how he ended up working in the flower shop a block away from everyone else.  He enjoyed the silence and the old people that came in during his shift.  When it was slow he would read the novel he picked up from the library or look for birds outside.  

He rarely had customers, so Stan spends most of his time rearranging the flowers.  Does his boss hate when he does that?  Oh definitely, but that has yet to stop him.  

Working so far down the street keeps him out of the drama the others seem to bring with them.  He gets regular text updates from their group chat but the Loser’s rarely come in to see him at work.  Stan doesn’t really mind though; he was kept in loop enough for his liking.  

Today, the group chat was blowing up.  Bill had broken two toes, Mike was a bit pissed, Ben and Bev had a date tomorrow, Richie hurt Ben (that was normal, Richie was always accidentally hurting someone).  He was being kept amused by his friends' conundrums when she came in.  

“Hi, how can I help you today?” Stan asks, without looking up.

“I was wondering if you sold calla lillies here?  We just moved in and Dad wanted to get Mom something pretty to liven up the house.”  Stan looks up at the young sounding voice.  What greeted him was a girl, maybe sixteen, with butter blonde hair that hung in soft curls around her shoulders.  Her sundress strap was slipping down her shoulders and her knees were bandaged.  She was gorgeous.  Stan had to blink several times to clear his head enough to answer.

“Yeah we have calla lilies, what color were you thinking and how many?”

“Oh, a dozen should be enough.  White would be preferable if you have enough.”  She smiled and Stan melted a little.  Is this how Richie felt when he was around Eddie?  If so, Stan could understand why it was so hard to get the boy’s attention when Eddie was around.  Stan felt like he was in a trance.  

He nods and heads towards the back to see if they do have enough white calla lilies to fulfill the order.  Stan is able to find the exact amount and in the color she wants.  He wraps them up carefully and attaches a care label to the wrapping before heading back to the register.

“We had just enough.”  Stan smiles and rings her up.  “That’ll be ten dollars even.”  The girl hands him a ten dollar bill with a smile and takes the flowers from his hands. 

“Thanks again.  Maybe I’ll see you around?”  Stan nods, watching as her smile brightens.  

“Definitely!  I’m here for all your flower needs.”  She giggles and walks back out the door.

Stan realizes much later that he never caught her name and he mentally beats himself up about it for the next several hours.  And for the fact that he said ‘I’m here for all your flower needs’.  What kind of person says that?  And with a straight face?  

Stan groans softly and tries to refocus on his book but finds it impossible to keep his mind off the pretty blonde.  Instead, he attempts to rearrange the ribbons for bouquets by width rather than color (though he organizes them by color as well).  As he works, Stan starts to daydream.  He imagines holding her hand as they walk to the pool, laughing with her in the diner, days spent bird watching and reading in the bright sun.  Stan feels a soft sort of warmth settle around his shoulders and a dopey smile comes across his face.

Stan wasn’t really one for crushes.  Derry was a small town and not many girls were going to want to date the kid who would rather read than do sports.  He had come to accept that fact.  Stan was no Bill or Mike, both of whom had had puberty hit them like a truck once high school came around.  Stan isn’t bad looking; his mother always said he has an interesting face.  It’s not something that really gives a guy confidence but Stan never thought he looked bad.  

Stan pauses to look at himself in the reflection of the glass, wondering what she must have thought of him.  He dresses nicely, something that hadn’t changed in years.  Stan suddenly gets an urge to change something, anything, to make himself appear cooler and less like his father.  He occasionally feels this way, especially when he sees pictures of them together; no one said he dressed like an old man outright, but he knew people thought it. 

“You know… it may be time for a change.”  Stan picks up his phone and types out a message.  A few moments later it dings.  

Meet us at the mall in 20.

The closest mall was two towns over and very few people from Derry made the trip unless it was Christmas or Easter to pick up presents.  Stan can’t remember the last time he had taken the time to drive all the way here.  Maybe last winter to pick up a gift for Eddie?  Stan wasn’t sure.  

Stan waits silently outside the main entrance, tapping his foot against the pavement when he spots them.  Bev and Richie were the only people he trusted to not make him look more like his father.  Both had quite… eccentric looks about them; Richie was prone to wearing loud Hawaiian shirts that he thrifted paired with ripped jeans and Vans while Bev had changed her style several times over the years.  Right now she is rocking a more seventies look, with a bright white embroidered peasant blouse and high waisted shorts.  Why did Stan know all of this?  He listened to his friends and noticed things.  

“Stan the Man!  Never thought I’d see the day when you’d ask ole Trashmouth with fashion help!”  Richie grins, his glasses falling off his nose.  Stan rolls his eyes, but smiles.  Despite enjoying his alone time, Stan had missed the Trashmouth.  

“Shut up Richie.  This place closes in two hours,” Bev states.  She turns to Stan, her phone in hand.  “What were you thinking?  New clothes, a haircut?  There’s not a whole lot of time but I think we can swing a good start to a makeover.”  She smiles and Stan wonders how Bill could have ever broken up with her.

“I definitely need a haircut and a closet up date.  I realized today that I really need to stop dressing like my dad.”  Richie laughs softly.  “Oh shut up.  Not everyone can dress like a pre

pubescent got lost on vacation.”  Richie fakes a gasp, putting his hand to his chest in mock offense.  

“Alright, alright ladies.”  Bev smiles and walks around Stan a few times.  “I know just the place to get started.  Let’s get to it!”

[thought-42]

Clone Wars fic Day One

So @stoppit-keepout gave me 'Abdicate' as a prompt word, and this sprung forth, but SK I promise I will write you something else for a fandom you're actually in. Meanwhile, please enjoy the first chunk of a very random modern au featuring cody and Obi-Wan being goddamn disasters. Hopefully there will be a new slice of this universe every day until New Years, but who the hell knows.

Obi-Wan meets Cody at the Big Brothers Big Sisters Christmas party. He's there with Anakin, who has just been kicked out of another foster home and is clearly feeling celebratory as a result. Obi-Wan has given up asking about the experiences Anakin has that lead him to prefer group homes or sleeping rough, but he can make some educated guesses.

Ahsoka and Plo are there as well, having shown up early along with Wolffe to set up the decorations. They're all showing off the official adoption papers to whoever will stand still long enough to read them, and Wolffe and Ahsoka don't say anything to each other without including "sister" or "brother" somewhere in the 'address while Plo looks on like he's never realized his life could be this perfect.

"Hey, big brother," Ahsoka says, "is your cousin coming? I think Kix will like him."

"They'll be here as long as Rex's car can make it," Wolffe says. "They were going to pick up Jesse from his grandma's, so they might get stuck in bridge traffic."

"Rex's car is held together with literal duct tape," Anakin explains in an aside to Obi-Wan. "I keep telling him I can fix it, but he won't let me."

"I didn't know Rex's brother was going to mentor Kix," Obi-Wan says.

"It's not official," Ahsoka says.

"There will be a proper introduction," Plo assures him. "Cody has already been approved, but you know how Kix is."

"Smarter than anyone they've paired him up with?" Obi-Wan says, calmly. He's rather defensive of Kix, even not having a particularly close relationship with him. He's had to train himself out of his impatience with people who can't keep up with him, and he can appreciate Kix's unwillingness to waste his time. Qui-Gon would scold him for such thoughts, but Qui-Gon is currently half way across the country at some sort of plants and yoga retreat instead of spending the holidays with his wife or his step-father or his not-really son and the child who worships the ground he walks on.

It's fine. Obi-Wan isn't bitter. Tahl is spending Christmas Eve drinking wine with her coworkers from the library, and Obi-Wan and Anakin are here, and Christmas Day they'll all trek across the city to Dooku's disgustingly fancy mansion for an awkward Christmas meal and criticism of their life choices. At least with Qui-Gon absent everything should remain civil. Unless Anakin's teenaged bravado has developed further in the past year. Obi-Wan is doing Anakin the favour of pretending to believe him when he says he doesn't care about Qui-Gon's absence. He suspects Anakin is doing the same for him, which is uncomfortable for a whole host of reasons.

"I think Kix and Cody will get along," Wolffe says, tongue between his teeth as he carefully glues googly eyes on a felt snowman. Obi-Wan catches Plo snapping a photo, clearly amused.

Obi-Wan lets himself get dragged into the cookie decorating catastrophe happening on the other side of the room, and he remains entirely engrossed until Mace claps his hands and shouts, "Pizza's ready, I need two volunteers to go across and pick it up, who's going with Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan throws up his sugar-coated hands indignantly. "What have I ever done to you, Mace? Am I not a delight, a breath of orderly, reliable, and charming fresh air—"

"I'll go," someone says, and Rex appears out of nowhere to shove Obi-Wan toward the coat wrack. There's a dark-haired man already there, snow still caught on the collar of his jacket, clearly not having been inside long enough even to settle in.

Obi-Wan sighs dramatically for the entertainment of the younger children, but the way he wipes the icing off his hands on Mace's jacket is entirely for himself. The dark-haired man, Rex's brother, he has to be, frowns severely at him. Obi-Wan smiles brightly.

He pulls on his coat and winds his scarf around his neck and over most of his face.

"I'm Obi-Wan," he says. "And yes, this scarf was a gift and I will be guilted terribly should I not wear it."

"Cody," he says. "I'm Rex's brother?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan says. "I had guessed as much."

"Present from your grandmother?" Cody asks, holding the door for Obi-Wan.

"The scarf? No, no, my... semi-absent father figure, actually. His step father bought him a book on knitting as a teenager and he has somehow maintained the habit without improving his skills over the past thirty years."

"Ahh," Cody says, uncertainly. "So have you been involved..." Cody waves a gloved hand uncertainly. "With this, I mean— this is the first time I've been to any sort of event—"

"No, no," Obi-Wan says, understanding the question because it is exhaustingly familiar. Because clearly only people with biological nuclear families have healthy and ideal childhoods. "No, I only got involved a few years ago. Qui-Gon, my... father, met Anakin at the food bank. Anakin was there with his mother and Qui-Gon was volunteering, because sometimes he remembers that he grew up rich and has week-long bouts of frantic guilt-induced philanthropy. Anakin became quite attached to him, and when his mother passed away we spent a great deal of time helping him through the fallout. Naturally, Qui-Gon lost interest shortly after, but by then Anakin's social worker had gotten us involved in BBBS."

"I presume he hasn't improved at emotional intelligence with age, either? Given his absence."

Obi-Wan laughs, startled. "Not at all, actually. And you, what brings you here? Did Rex wear you down?"

"He told me about Kix," Cody says. "Admittedly this isn't my first choice when it comes to giving back to the community, but I wouldn't feel right knowingly walking away from a job for which I'm uniquely suited."

"It's not a job," Obi-Wan says, sharply.

"I'm sorry," Cody says. "You're right."

They cross the intersection in silence. None of the sidewalks are shovelled and Obi-Wan swallows down his irritated rant.

"I said that poorly," Cody says, hunching his shoulders. "I only meant that this level of social interaction and engagement with strangers— I'm not good at it. That's all I meant."

Obi-Wan, who has never particularly experienced or understood this sort of struggle, smiles sympathetically. "Of course, very understandable."

Cody's eyebrows go up. "I'm sure. You don't need to lie to spare my feelings."

Obi-Wan jerks open the door to the pizza restaurant harder than he intends to. "I apologize."

"I wasn't offended."

Inside the heat is stifling in contrast to the chill of late afternoon. Obi-Wan huffs a breath through his scarf and steps up to the counter. "They need two minutes," Obi-Wan tells Cody once he's exchanged words with the person behind the counter.

They lean together against the wall, dishwater dull sunlight splashed across the tiles at their feet. A drop of sweat creeps down Obi-Wan's spine.

"You should take your scarf off," Cody says, after a moment, like he's been trying to stop himself.

Obi-Wan blinks uncertainly, then agreeably pulls the scarf of his face, loosening the loops around his neck and unzipping his jacket a few inches.

Cody stares out the window. "Sorry. You're obviously hot," he says. "It's boiling in here."

Obi-Wan doesn't know what to say, given that he has absolutely no reason to have left the scarf pulled up and thus has no leg to stand on when it comes to the oddity of the moment.

Back at the community centre they're descended upon by a rush of children and teens, stacks of pizza boxes snatched from their arms and vanishing into the crowd. Obi-Wan glances over to the cookie table, and is unsurprised to see the lack of progress.

It takes a few seconds and some bouncing up on his toes to find Kix, and when he does it's to see him curled up on a hard plastic chair in the back corner behind the water cooler, cell phone pressed to his ear, his other arm wrapped around himself and looking very much like he's trying to remain calm through an exceedingly distressing conversation.

Cody is standing very still, hands clasped behind his back, eyes darting around and clearly unsure what to do. Obi-Wan, who is a good person, says "Come on, then. While I recognize that it's meant to be the process of decorating the cookies that holds the value, I also am physically incapable of leaving a job half done, and now that the real food has arrived I suspect no one else will be doing it."

"Yes, ok," Cody says, quickly.

Anakin finds them five minutes later, half a piece of pizza in his mouth and a spring in his step. "Rex is gonna let me take a look at his car!"

"I'm glad," Obi-Wan says, and means it. He may not trust Anakin with a lot of things, but when it comes to mechanics Obi-Wan trusts him far more than any "professional".

"you guys should get some pizza before it's all gone," Anakin says. "Hi, by the way. You're Cody, right?"

"Yeah," Cody says. "You're Anakin."

"That's me. And now I'm a little worried that rex talks about me."

"Would you believe me if I said only good things?"

"I accidentally pushed him off the roof of the old theatre last winter," says Anakin. Cody nods.

"We're busy with this," Obi-Wan says, nodding to the cookies. "Besides, the pizza should go to the youth, not to us."

Anakin rolls his eyes. "Whatever, it's food, we're all here, don't make it weird."

"Busy," Obi-wan repeats.

Anakin waves a hand. "Hey, hey, I get it. You're finally getting to experience an extremely stereotypical holiday tradition that you never did when you were a kid, and it's nice because you've been all fucked up with Qui-Gon away."

"What?!" Obi-Wan snaps, incredulous, at the same time Cody says

"That's exactly what we're doing, actually. Couldn't have said it better myself."

Obi-Wan considers upending the container of sprinkles over Cody's head.

[head-full-of-things]

‘With Great Power...’ teaser, a secret santa gift

Hey guys! I'm in @bazwillendinflames LIS2 Secret Santa.

I got the amazing Stef aka @ladyofthecreed. Your request was for wholesome Daniel and Sean on the road to Karen's comminity after ep 4, but I saw how sad you were after ep 5 and Redemption so I wanted to cheer you up, as well as all of us who got it, with something more fun.  Of course it started as fun and then I actually started writing and it also made me cry haha

The basic premise is 16 year old Daniel post Redemption, who decided to use his powers for good and becomes the superhero of Beaver Creek! This is a scene, a sneak peek if you will, from the fic. I'm posting the sneak peek here for you guys, and when the full fic comes up I'll post it here as well as on AO3.

And @bazwillendinflames thank you so much for organizing this! It's a really cool activity for the fandom. Oh and for giving me a gift fic of course

I hope you'll like it 😊

Note - before this scene Daniel saves his classmate with his powers.

-----

It was the longest, most confusing three days of Daniel’s life, as he had to wait until Tuesday, which is visitation day, to finally talk to Sean and tell him what happened. He spent them doing what he usually did—schoolwork, hanging out with Chris (who kept asking him to repeat every detail of what happened, writing it all down in his notes app), and helping his grandparents. But while usually it was more than enough to fill his days, now he found it couldn’t calm this feeling that was threatening to blow up inside of him. He saved Jason’s life. This brought him back to when he was thirteen at that school trip, when he lifted the school bus enough for it to get away from that cliff. It’s strange, when he first got these powers, on the run with Sean, he used to thinking about them as mostly as a way to destroy or attack. Sure, in his time in Haven Point Lisbeth told him it was a gift, that he was meant to do good in the world, but that woman was badshit crazy so it doesn’t really count. And after he got back to Beaver Creek, he did his best to hide them. But now he used them for good, and he really liked this feeling. 

So yeah, he couldn’t wait to tell Sean, but he also felt terrible fear washing over him every time he thought about actually telling him. How is he supposed to just go there and say: ’Hi bro, remember how you sacrificed the best years of your life so that I wouldn’t be in trouble with the law? Well funny story…’

And so he waited for Tuesday to come but also hoped it’d never come.

Time worked as usual though. The day arrived, and Daniel once again took the bus to prison. When he met Sean he kept quiet. Sean didn’t seem to notice his nervousness though, they spoke for a few minutes, about Daniel’s school life and how the big test went. Then Sean told him a joke that he heard from his cell mate Carl four days ago. He kept laughing as he was trying to tell it. Daniel thought that still laughing about a joke four days later seemed like too much. But who knows, maybe he was just too stressed at the moment to appreciate it.

He sneaked a look at the guard, who again was completely immersed in his game on the phone and not paying attention to anything that went on in front of him. This was his shot. He leaned closer to Sean and spoke quietly: “Listen, I gotta tell you something.”

Sean’s eyes lifted. “Yeah?”

He told him the events of what happened, and as he did a big smile rose on Sean’s face. Daniel expected shock or maybe fear from him, but certainty not the amused look he gave him.

“Wait… You don’t look surprised.”

“Well, we had a TV hour at the cafeteria. ’Local teen saved under mysterious circumstances. Only clue to the identity of his saviour is a drawing of a wolf found at scene.’ Dude that shot with the drawing on the floor was on loop the whole day,” he said with a laugh, keeping his voice low.

Daniel grimaced. “Oh man. So why didn’t you tell me you knew? Let me talk about the Algebra test for an hour like an idiot.”

“Look I just… Didn’t want you to feel you have to tell me. It’s your superpower after all. You’re grown now, and I know I’m not that much a main figure in your life anymore, with me being here, and....”

He frowned. “Don’t. Say. That. Ever. Do you hear me? We’re the wolf brothers remember? It’s forever. Plus you know that if it wasn’t for your help with my power back then, I wouldn’t have a clue how to control them in the first place.”

Sean gave him half a smile.

He smiled too. But he had to ask him a question, and he did, barely getting the words out of his mouth. “Sean, are you disappointed at me?”

Sean’s eyebrows went up. “What? Why?”

“I mean, you practically gave up everything in order for me to have a normal life, and here I am putting it all in danger. I mean look at what happened, I wasn’t careful enough and now I’m all over the news.”

“Why would I be? This is the most publicity a drawing of mine ever got,” he laughed, but stopped when he saw Daniel’s very not amused face. “I’m not disappointed of you Daniel, I’m proud, because you put your secret in risk to protect someone who needed help. You’re a good person.”

He let out the air he was holding.

“You know, when we were on the run and I found out you had this crazy power, I have to say I was terrified. Not of you, but… Of the responsibility, I guess. Remember when you took that hula doll from Brody? I understood then that you were looking to me on how to behave. I was so busy with keeping you alive and well taken care of that I didn’t even realise that with Dad gone, I also need to teach you those kinds of things. And with the… Added flavor of you having a power that could blow up anything in the thirty feet radius, I knew that if I fucked that up, it would have bigger consequences than when other people do a bad job raising their kids. But at the end of the day, I did a pretty good job if I can say so myself.” He smiled and let a small laugh. “And what you did yesterday? It just proves that to me even more. And it also proves to me that I made the right choice that day… At the border.”

That day at the border they almost never spoke about it, and when they did Sean always said it in a hushed, soft tone. Just hearing these words brought back the feeling—the heat on his skin from the bright sun, and the tears on his face. The sound of the sirens that didn’t fucking stop to let them think, or say goodbye properly. And more than anything, the great love he felt for Sean, that his body was almost too small to contain.

It was their last moment together alone, without an annoying person standing a few meters from them to make sure they don’t get too close. 

Sean gave up everything for him, and hearing that he doesn’t regret it… Shit he didn’t realize how much he needed to hear it until now. He felt tears stuck in his throat as he said “All this time I was so afraid Sean, that you…”

“Shh, it’s ok,” Sean said. They leaned forward so that their foreheads touched, and stayed like this for a while. While still being like this, Sean continued speaking softly, making sure the guard still doesn’t hear them. “Daniel I need you to know, that I didn’t do this for you to have a normal life. I did it for you to have your life. I knew you needed a family, a stable environment and school. A friend like Chris. I wanted you to not have to fight anymore, or use your power for me or anyone else. Only if you do it by your own choice.”

He nodded, lifting his head to look at Sean with tears in his eyes.

“I also told you that day to remember who you are. Remember? So don’t try to be what Grandma wants you to be. Don’t even try to be what I want you to be, ok enano? Be yourself.”

He let out a bitter chuckle. “I’m not even sure I know who that is anymore.”

Sean looked him straight in the eyes. “Not anymore. Yet.” When they noticed that the guard saw them being so close and lifted his sight from his phone to watch what they’re doing they separated, Sean’s sending a hand to ruffle Daniel’s hair a bit as he pulled away.

“You guys got 5 more minutes!” the guard called, and they both sighed. There was something else that he had to tell Sean, so he had to say it now. “Sean, I think I liked it. Using my…”—He had to be careful in what he says now—”Skills for good. I want to do it again.” Now that he said that he realised that, In a way, he knew this since the moment he saved Jason, or maybe somehow all these years in Beaver Creek.

Sean leaned forward. “Alright, what do you want to do then?”

“Well I’ve been thinking, maybe I could take a tour around the town once in a while, see if anybody needs help. And if they do, help them in a sneaky way so they won’t see me.”

“Like superhero patrol?” ??

He laughed. “Yeah, or something like that.” He thought about it for a second. “Man, Chris is going to freak out when he hears this. But imagine if Grandma finds out, she won’t let me leave the room for maybe… A whole year.” 

“Don’t worry, it was pretty easy for me because I know about your powers. You can count on one finger really the amount of people who even know about your power,  not to mention that you live here. As long as it stays like that you’re safe. Just… Promise me that whatever superhero shenanigans you’re doing, you’ll be more careful from now on, alright?”

They’ve had their share of promises between them on the year of their journey to Mexico. Every promise Sean made to him he tried to keep, so Daniel was going to take this promise seriously. He nodded. “I promise.”

They stood up and hugged, Daniel once again trying to take as much of Sean as he can, and as Sean went back to his cell, being led by the guard, he turned around and told him “I believe in you enano. I love you.”

“Love you bro,” he yelled back.

On his way out of the facility the sky was black but full of stars. Grandma always said that you can see the stars here in a way you simply can’t in the big city.  Karen said it was true, but you can see a lot more in the desert. But today Daniel focused on something else. As the bus got to the station and he took a seat, he spent the whole ride smiling and looking at the distant lights that he knew came from Beaver Creek, the town he was going to protect.

[afternoonteawithme]

Sunday Morning in Paris

(read it on AO3) 

Fandom: Yuri!!! On Ice

Pairing: Victor x Yuuri  

Rating: General

The VIP lounge was almost empty at this early hour of a Saturday morning, containing only one business-suited man in a back corner, sleep mask over his eyes as he snored softly, and one sleepy attendant perched on his stool behind a slate grey counter.

Idly flipping the pages of the day’s paper, Minami didn’t bother to hold back his jaw-cracking yawns as he waited for the last hour of his shift to be over. It had been a slow night, and he was having more trouble than usual staying awake. Even the newest reports on the big jewelry heist that had occurred earlier that week weren’t enough to keep him from nodding off, but since he’d spent most of the last three nights glued to the news on the TV there wasn’t much left he didn’t already know.  

The almost frigid air that swept through the room did help keep him awake, at least, the silent AC units blocking out the heat that was already radiating off the tarmac runways outside the building.

The lounge was scrupulously clean, done in shades of sedate grey and blue and only saved from being irredeemably impersonal by the bright paintings hung here and there, each lit by discreet spotlights. One curved wall was all darkly tinted glass, just clear enough that anyone sitting on one of the butter-soft leather sofas could watch the busy planes while also being certain that no one outside could see in.

Above the door, an LED panel blinked as it shuffled through the lists of flights in and out for the day, one smaller screen beside it showing the weather – clear and hot. The other was tuned to the news Minami had been watching until he’d had to turn off the volume when the single occupant of the lounge had clearly indicated he wanted to sleep.

When the black glass of the double doors whooshed open, he jerked to his feet, almost stumbling as his body moved before he’d fully woken up. He stuffed the paper into his back pocket to free his hands as he rushed around the counter and across the room to greet his new guest.

He’d already jammed a smile on his face, but it broadened into a wide, genuine grin when he realized who’d walked in. “Mr. Nikiforov! Good to see you again.”

“Hello Minami.” Perfectly shaped lips curved in a smile, and Minami’s heart beat just a little bit faster.  

As the cooly beautiful man stepped further into the room, letting the doors close behind him, Minami knew the other attendants were going to be insane with envy when they realized they’d missed Victor Nikiforov, and he fully intended to torture them all with the specifics.

He liked today’s suit, perfectly fitted and the deepest of grays, with a silver tie a few shades darker than the boxy metal briefcase Victor held at his side.  

“Your usual seat is free, sir, if you’d like.”

“Thank you.” With another smile, Victor walked towards the cluster of seats the attendants kept free for their favorite guests. Private, hidden by a bend in the wall and the attendant’s counter, the seats weren’t immediately visible to people walking into the room.  

“Shall I get you some coffee?”

“Is the coffee as terri- ah. I mean, is the coffee as…interesting as the last time I came through?”

Minami blinked. “It’s the same, I think? I made it fresh an hour or so ago.”

“Ah.” Victor sighed. “That’s alright. I’ll be fine without.” He set his case on a sofa, and settled down to sit beside it.

“I can hold your luggage at the counter for you, if you’d like?”

“Oh, no.” Victor tapped one long finger on the handle of the case. “It stays with me. But thank you.” He smiled up at Minami to soften his words, and then blinked when the rolled up paper in Minami’s back pocket finally let loose and fell to the ground.

Minami saw Victor frown down at it, and then, with surprising speed, bend down to pick it up.

As the man closely studied the paper, Minami angled his head so he could better see what had caught the man’s attention so intently.

“Oh that. They think they got a shot of that guy, finally. You know, that thief that’s been stealing fancy stuff all over the planet?”

“I’ve heard of him.”

“He hit a place here in town a few days ago, got a whole bunch of diamonds and stuff. You have to have heard of him, what with all the travelling you do?”

Victor smoothed a hand across the paper, easing out the wrinkles in the photo that filled half the page. It was blurry, black and white. You couldn’t see much, just the slight profile of a man with pale hair, half turned away as he walked away from the camera.

It wasn’t a good photo. Minami had already spent hours poring over it.

“Yes. I’ve heard of him.”

Minami craned his neck further, almost leaning over his guest now. “I can’t figure it out, but I feel like I’ve seen him before.”

Victor looked up at him, clearly startled. “You have?”

Minami realized he was too close. He back off as he shrugged. “Something about him seems familiar. But I can’t place it.” He blinked as he studied Victor. “You, know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say that looks like you, a little bit, with that hair.”

Startlement turned into amusement, but before Victor could respond to Minami’s comment, his phone rang. With a smile, he excused himself to answer.

Minami backed away – you at least pretended you weren’t listening in on guest phone calls, even if you were. As he walked back in the direction of his counter, he couldn’t help but hear the first part of the conversation.

“Of course, Yakov. I picked them up as planned.” Victor paused, and then laughed lightly, a soft and velvety sound that Minami always liked, and Minami’s footsteps slowed so he could keep listening. “Someone must have tattled on me. Yes, there was some trouble, it’s fine. I’ll deliver these and then head to Switzerland for the next appointment.”  

Minami didn’t hear any more of the conversation, and sat at his counter, chin resting on his hand as he stared at the TV, deep in thought.

When he heard Victor walking towards him a half hour or so later, he was ready.

“Sir?”

“Victor is fine, Minami.”

“Oh.” Minami flushed, and had to take a second to track down his lost train of thought. “Um. Vic- Victor. Didn’t you say last time you came through you’d just been to Venice?”

Victor raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“And the time before that, hadn’t you just been in Sydney?”

“Possibly. I do a lot of travelling. It’s hard to keep track.”

Excited, Minami leaned forward on the counter, dropping his voice to something like a loud whisper. “You wouldn’t happen to be that thief, would you?”

 --

 Walking through the still mostly empty airport, Victor couldn’t help but laugh a little, to himself. The eternally eager Minami had looked so crushed when he’d told him he wasn’t the infamous thief, as if he’d just been given the worst news in the world. But then, what in the world made him think any thief worth his salt would have admitted it as simply as that, even if it were true?

He'd looked so devastated that Victor had given in and asked for a cup of the nightmare stuff Minami called coffee, just to distract him. It had worked, but the cost had been high – Victor had only forced himself to take one sip before escaping the lounge, but the bitter texture now coated his tongue.

Unfortunately, it was far too early for any of the restaurants or cafés to have opened yet, so he’d have to wait until he got on the plane to rinse the taste out of his mouth.

He passed the last of the closed and barred shops, and since he still had a good hour before his gate opened, he turned back to walk the way he’d come, weaving his way through the trickle of early morning passengers and shop employees arriving for the day.

Occasionally, someone walking by would smile at him, wave, and he’d smile and nod back. Maybe they recognized him. He’d certainly spent enough time in airports – this one, and others spread all over the world – that he likely had spoken to a great many of these people. Some of them might even consider him a friend, or at least an acquaintance.  

But right now, all he could think was that he hoped none of them tried to talk to him.

And he liked talking to people, usually. What in the world was wrong with him, lately? He loved his job, and he’d always enjoyed the way it brought him into contact with a great many people.

Maybe it was time to find a new line of work.  

With a sigh, he adjusted the loop around his wrist that attached him to his briefcase, and turned away from the strip of shops to head up the ramped hallway leading to his gate.

As he glanced down at the watch on his wrist to check the time, he heard a hesitant voice behind him.

“Err…excuse me?”

Victor turned at the soft voice, and found a man in an ill-fitting black suit, with a terrible tie, and the warmest brown eyes Victor had ever seen.

He was certain he’d never spoken to him before, but there was something about the man’s face that was oddly familiar to Victor. As if he’d seen him many, many times before, though he’d never realized it.  

Victor blinked, realizing his eyes had fixed onto the man’s lips, and that those lips had been moving as he’d said something Victor had been too distracted to hear. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” For some strange reason, he felt the faint heat of a blush on his cheeks.

The gentle, hesitant expression on the man’s face faded, and something sharper, hotter, leaped into his eyes. He took a half step forward, gripped the knot of the tie around Victor’s neck, and yanked it towards him.

Victor was too stunned to react as he felt himself being tugged toward the other man. An instant later, warm lips closed over his, and the man let go of his tie to wrap an arm around Victor’s neck. Their tongues met, and Victor barely noticed the way his own hands dropped to hold onto the other man’s waist. A small corner of his mind noted that the man tasted of coffee. Good coffee.  

Dimly, he heard voices nearby as more people streamed around them, but it was hard to make it out over the sound of his heartbeat pounding in his ears.  

Slowly, he came back to himself. Though his head was spinning, he raised one hand between them and lightly pressed against the other man’s chest.

Even as the man let himself be pushed away, Victor felt the thumping of a heartbeat beneath his palm, as fast and strong as his own.  

When they finally stood a foot apart from each other, they were both breathing deeply. Victor stared into the face inches away from his, a little stunned, and happy to see that the brown eyes looked as dazed as he felt.

He was disappointed a moment later when those eyes sharpened again, but didn’t have time to react before the man spoke.

“Thank you.” The smile that spread over the man’s face was a little rueful, a little wicked. “That was far better than I’ve been imagining.”

Then with a nod, he turned, and seemed to disappear into the slowly growing crowd.  

It was almost thirty seconds after the man walked away before Victor realized his briefcase was gone.

 --

 Airport security almost refused to believe him, despite the business card he’d found in his pocket after the man had walked away, identical to the ones that had been left in safes and empty display cases across the planet – it wasn’t until they pulled up the security footage and saw how the man stepped out from the gate of an arriving airplane, before the plane had actually started unloading, and how he seemed to disappear from the footage shortly after he walked away from Victor with Victor’s briefcase in his hands that they started to listen.

Somehow, the man must have known where all the blind spots were, because he’d stopped Victor directly in the middle of one. There wasn’t a single shot that showed anything but the back or side of his head, from beginning to end.

“Do you need me to describe his face?” Victor asked, oddly reluctant. But it wasn’t as if he hadn’t gotten an exceptionally good up-close view of it.

“No, no, he alters his appearance so much. We’ve had dozens of conflicting descriptions, and we know he wears wigs.” The policeman that the security guards had finally called in sighed deeply. The dark rings under his eyes looked deep enough to hold a bucket of coffee, and the air of bafflement and frustration that hung over his shoulders made Victor feel a little badly for him. “We only released that photo to the media to see how he’d react, our profiler thought it might annoy him enough to make him act rashly.”

“Fine, then I better at least call my office and have them let the client know I won’t be bringing the goods over.”

“Alright. I’ll get you a report for your insurance company. What was the value of the jewelry in the case?”

Victor blinked. “There was no jewelry.”

“What, was it gemstones then?”

“No.” Victor smiled. “Flowers. I’m a florist.”

Jaw dropping, the policeman gaped at Victor. “Flowers? He stole a case of flowers?”

“Rare flowers, carefully treated to last as long as necessary. The case is temperature and humidity controlled.”

The tired policeman pulled himself enough together to squint suspiciously at Victor. “You pay for that suit and a first class seat on a florist’s salary?”

“I’m a very good florist.”

“You don’t look like a florist.”

“I assure you I do, as that is what I am.” Victor pulled out his wallet, took out one of his own business cards and handed it over.

Blinking down at the silver edged card in his hand, the policeman scratched at his head. “Well, alright. If your…flowers turn up, we’ll let you know.”

“Thank you.”  

 --

 He had two hours to kill before the new flight Yakov had scheduled for him. The airport was busier now, and though it was easier to slip through the crowds of people without his briefcase, he felt odd without it.

Maybe it was time for a vacation. Yakov wouldn’t like it. Victor’s eyes gleamed as wondered if he could trick Yakov into coming, maybe bring Lillia with him. That might be entertaining enough to fight back whatever this dissatisfaction was that he couldn’t seem to shake.

He stepped slightly aside to avoid a small child running by, and bumped someone with his shoulder. He turned back to apologize, but only saw the back of a head as a brown-haired man pushed through the crowd in the opposite direction.

He almost turned away, back towards his gate, but some impulse made him reach into his pocket. Sure enough, there was another card there, not the same one he’d handed to the police.

Victor looked down. It was a simple white card, with a single, neatly printed sentence.  

If you want your flowers back, meet me for coffee at that café you like so much, tomorrow morning.

That café, what café?

Victor flipped the card over.

The one with the blue roses on the walls. - Y

Eyes widening. Victor stared at the card. Then his head shot up, and he studied the departure board over his head. He flipped out his phone. “Yakov, I need to change my flight. I’m going to Paris.”

As he listened to Yakov squawk in his ear, a grin slowly spread over his face.

Life was about to get a lot more interesting.

[reciprocityfic]

a slight return home, chapter 3

Title: A Slight Return Home Fandom: The Walking Dead Pairing: Rick x Michonne Rating: T Summary: Rick’s death shakes Michonne’s world to its core. With her daughter and her remaining family, she tries to navigate her changed life, and all the struggles and surprises that come with it.  Canon-compliant, for now.  Spoilers up to 9x06.

Author’s Note: Hi! Long time, no see. Sorry it's taken me weeks and weeks to update. But I hope you enjoy this chapter I finally have for you.

This chapter covers a large span of time, just an FYI.  And while writing, I listened to the song Holding a Heart by Toby Lightman, which is where the title comes from.

I almost just ended the whole story here, to be honest. But I do have more of this to tell, so lucky for you guys (or not lucky, depending how you feel about it, lmao) there are a handful of chapters left. I hope to have the next ones out much sooner than I had this one out!

On a side note, I just made a fandom Twitter account a few days ago. Follow me (@lizjenningss) if you want to!  All I do is cry over Richonne.

Thank you for reading, and hope to see you soon!

xoxo, Rebekah

read chapter one on tumblr, archive of our own or ff.net read chapter two on tumblr, archive of our own or ff.net read chapter three on archive of our own or ff.net

i’m holding a heart here in my hand

"Hey."

It's raining today. But the canopy of tree leaves above her reduces the precipitation to a modest, misting drizzle. It doesn't bother her.

"I'm here. I guess you already knew that, though. You're here, too. I...I know you are."

She takes a shaky breath, digs her fingers into the damp earth below her.

"I'm sorry I haven't been here since I showed you the picture. I was trying - I, I thought that I had to...move on, or something. Not forget you. I'll never do that. I never want to do that. But I guess I thought that I needed - that I had to...I…"

She laughs, once, and drops her head to her chest.

"I don't really know what I thought."

A silence captures her tongue. As if she's waiting for him to answer her. For him to make sense of the jumbled mess in her head. To help her, as he always did.

The rain pit-patters on the leaves above, the river flows in front of her, and she waits.

But no help comes.

"I missed you. I miss you, always. Constantly. I keep thinking that one day I'm going to wake up, and it's not going to hurt as much. That it'll alleviate itself, even just the tiniest bit. It doesn't, though. It's just as bad as the first day. It's like I'm watching that damn explosion on loop."

She tilts her head to the side, and lets out a quick breath.

"You know what, though? I don't mind it. And I don't want it to go away. I know it feels like I can't breathe, sometimes, but it's proof. Proof that you were real, and you were here. Proof that I love you. And if pain is what I get to have, in place of you, then so be it. I'd rather have something left of you, than nothing."

A roll of thunder rings out. She looks at her horse over her shoulder, the animal shifting back and forth restlessly. It's going to storm. She needs to head back soon.

She turns back around, and reaches into her pack.

"I brought you something."

She holds the little black-and-white photo in front of her. She can't help the smile that begins to turn up her lips.

"Our little shadow isn't just a shadow anymore."

She traces the shape of the baby over the shiny, smooth paper.

"They don't look quite human yet. More like a little alien. Just as beautiful as ever, of course."

She stares at the photo a moment longer, before getting up and walking to the base of the tree where she left the last ultrasound picture. There, she finds it, dirty and weathered. She knows no one has touched it since she placed it there.

It doesn't matter. She doesn't care. It's his, and this new one is, too. She printed them for him, brought them to him, and they're his.

So she places it down over the old photograph, and anchors it down with a stone.

Another peal of thunder sounds. She hears her horse whinny loudly.

She walks back towards the river, and stops where she'd been crouching a moment ago.

"I have to go now, but I'll be back sooner this time. I promise."

She closes her eyes, and wraps her arms around herself.

"Goodbye, Rick."

She stays in place for another minute, then secures her pack and katana around her, and goes to leave. She pets her horse's nose in slow strokes to soothe her, and then mounts the animal. Before she prompts the horse to move, she turns her head back towards the river, and the clearing.

"I love you. I love you so much."

***

"There's a baby in there."

She feels a tiny finger pressing into her abdomen, and looks away from where she's chopping up apples to find Judith pointing at her belly, her eyes full of a mix that's equal-parts wonder and confusion. The little girl's fascination with her ever-growing stomach has been endlessly amusing, and Michonne smiles gently at her, nodding her head in affirmation.

"Yes, there is a baby in there."

"Will Baby come out soon?"

"Let's hope not."

"Why?" Judith asks, a whining impatience clear in her voice. Ever since the pregnancy, and what it would mean for their tiny family, had been explained to her, Judith had made it very clear that she wanted to meet her new brother or sister now, and being made to wait all those weeks and months was an absolutely preposterous concept.

"Because," Michonne begins, for an innumerable time, "Baby's not done growing yet. They need to stay in there and get big and healthy before they come out to see us."

Judith humphs in disappointment, her little hands curling into fists. She sighs heavily - with a drama that only a four-year-old can properly convey - and climbs up on one of the stools by the kitchen island. For a few minutes, the only sound is Michonne's knife hitting the cutting board over and over as she continues cutting up fruit, Judith watching and stealing a slice of apple every so often.

"Momma?" she asks finally.

"Yes, little bird?"

"Will Baby have a daddy?"

Her hand holding the knife slips as the question hits her. She cuts her finger, but she hardly notices as she falls into some sort of emotionless stupor brought on by the little girl's inquiry, the feelings it stirs inside her mingling together and overloading her heart until it seems to her that she's off alone somewhere, wrapped up in a thick, gray, lonely fog.

"Momma, you're bleedin'."

Judith's next words startle her from her trance, and she jumps infinitesimally before looking down and finding a sizeable spot of blood marring the light-brown wood of the cutting board. She mumbles a quiet shit under her breath before jogging over to the sink and grabbing a towel as she turns on the water and rinses her finger.

An irrational part of her wants to be mad at Judith for asking such a question. For anyone even thinking that, somehow, their new addition would be fatherless, that she would allow her child to grow up without the knowledge and awareness of the incomparable, amazing man who helped make them, who wanted them and dreamed them up in his head and loved the mere possibility of them more than words can say. That she wouldn't tell stories of his valor and his leadership and his sacrifice, and of his heart and his warmth and his soul. Stories of the man that saved them in every possible way, over and over again, before they even existed.

But Judith isn't anyone. Judith is a child - her child - who lost her father. Who lost one of the fundamental pillars of her world.

And it's as she turns the water off, and wraps the towel around her injured finger, that she realizes she's never asked Judith an important question.

She feels a tug at her pantleg. When she looks down, she meets Judith's wide, worried eyes staring up at her.

"You okay, Momma?"

"Yeah, baby," Michonne breathes. "Yeah, I just...cut my finger. But I'm fine."

She takes a breath and closes her eyes to try and clear her head, before crouching down so that she's eye-level with her daughter. Judith still looks concerned, and Michonne takes her little hands in her larger, uninjured one.

"Judy," she starts quietly. "You know that you still have a daddy, right?"

Judith doesn't answer right away. Instead, she cuts her eyes to the floor, and the frown on her face deepens as she thinks.

"My daddy got hurt real bad and couldn't live anymore, so he had to leave Momma and me and go with Carl and my first mommy."

A shaky breath moves through the little girl's lungs after she's done reciting her own version of the words Michonne's had to speak to her over and over again since Rick's death. When she looks up at her mother again, her eyes are full of tears, and Michonne's heart breaks.

She reaches out, and cups Judith's cheek.

"Oh, my little bird."

She stands and throws the towel in the sink, checking to make sure her finger has stopped bleeding, before picking the girl up, carrying her into the living room as Judith burrows her head in the crook of her neck. She sits them down on the couch and cradles Judith to her chest, pressing her cheek to the top of her head and smoothing her hair.

"Baby, you still have a daddy," she whispers.

"But he's not here," Judith counters firmly, and Michonne can feel tears begin to soak into her skin.

"Well. He's not here on the couch. He's not here when we eat dinner, and he's not here at bedtime. But he's still here. With us."

Judith sits up, and roughly wipes at her eyes before looking at her with a helpless expression.

"I can't see him. I can't hear him. Where is he?" she pleads.

"He's still inside us," Michonne tells her, her own tears beginning to cloud her vision. "Just like Carl is, remember? We love Daddy. We still love him so, so much, right?"

Judith nods vigorously.

"Right," Michonne affirms. "So as long as we love him, he's here with us. He's just in our hearts, instead of right next to us. He lives in there."

She covers the little girl's chest with her hand, lets her fingers rest right over her beating heart.

"And as long as he's in there - as long as we love him - he'll always be with us. Always. No one can ever take him away from you. No one. Not ever."

Judith brings her hand up, and rests it over Michonne's.

"So you still have Daddy," Michonne assures her. "And Momma still has Daddy, too. And when Baby comes, they'll have Daddy."

"But Baby's never gonna meet Daddy."

"No. You're right - Baby won't know Daddy. So you and me, we have to tell them about Daddy. Just like me and Daddy tell you about Carl, we have to tell Baby about Daddy. We'll tell him who he was, and what he looked like. What he sounded like. What he liked, and what he didn't like. All his favorite things. All the stuff he used to do, and all the stuff he used to say."

"The stories he used to read me!" Judith chimes in, her frown slowly giving way to a small smile. "And how his hugs were so warm. And how he was so good at hide and seek, and how he always gave you so many kisses. And how he snored when he was sleeping. And, oh, I'll paint Baby a picture of Daddy, too!"

"See? Baby will have lots of ways to know Daddy. And then Daddy will live in Baby's heart, too."

Judith grins, and then lays back down onto Michonne's chest. The two sit there quietly for a few minutes, Michonne still playing with the little girl's long, golden hair.

"I miss Daddy," Judith says eventually. "But I'm happy he's still here. I'm happy he's in our hearts."

One tear manages to escape the corner of Michonne's eye before she closes her lids.

"Yeah," she murmurs, squeezing her daughter closer as a bittersweet smile turns up her lips. "I'm glad he's in our hearts, too."

***

"They started kicking."

She sits on the bank of the river, her legs crossed in front of her. It's sunny this time. An unusually warm autumn afternoon that hearkens back to the days of late summer. The rays shine down between the trees, through the gaps between branches where leaves have already begun to fall, and warm the bare skin of her shoulders.

"It doesn't really feel like kicking. It's more like...fluttering. I remember it being more like kicking with Andre. This one is more like butterflies. Or popping. Like popcorn."

She runs her hand over her rounded stomach. It's becoming harder to hide now, even with all the baggy shirts she's come to wearing. She can feel the people of Alexandria whispering behind her back as she walks down the street.

"Judith loves it. She was finally able to feel it about a week ago, and she freaked, Rick. I can still see her face - her eyes were so wide, and her mouth was in a little 'o'. It was adorable. And now, she's obsessed. In the evenings, we sit on the couch and she lays there with her head in my lap and just waits for them to move."

She smiles fondly.

"She's gonna be such a good big sister. She already kisses my stomach every morning and every night, and tells me that she's saying 'good morning' and 'goodnight'. She tells me how much she loves them all the time. And at night, when we're there on the couch, she's started telling them stories. Some are the ones we've told her before. Some are ones she just makes up. Most of them are about you."

She bites her lip, as tears begin to well up in her eyes.

"I've started telling them about you, too. I mean, I don't even know how well they can hear me yet. I don't remember from Andre, and I've been meaning to ask Siddiq. But I figure it can't be too early for them to start to hear about you. It would never be too early. Because, God, Rick, I just want them to know you. Everything about you. Who you were. And I want them to love you, Rick. As much as Judith does. As much as I do. So even if it's just muffled sounds to them, at least those sounds are about you."

She closes her eyes as she speaks. Pictures his face and tries to imagine he's there in front of her.

"And I know this is stupid, Rick, but when I talk about you, I swear to you that they always seem to move around more. It's like they know who it is I'm talking about, or something. Like I said, I know that's silly. It's impossible. And it's probably just wishful thinking. Me putting unrelated things together and making something out of nothing. But that's what it feels like."

She takes a shaky breath, and opens up her eyes. She goes to speak again, but stops when she feels a popping sensation over and over again in her belly.

Like popcorn.

And she almost laughs.

"See what I mean? They're kicking for you."

And they keep kicking. One corner of her mouth turns up.

"They're kicking just for their Daddy."

She rests her hand on her stomach, over their baby. The movement inside her doesn't stop, and she lets herself smile.

***

She never formally announces her pregnancy to the residents of Alexandria. She just stops trying to hide it; she wears whatever she wants, tells the few who know for sure that they don't have to keep it a secret anymore, and starts answering any questions about it as honestly and openly as she can manage.

She worries at first that the news will only increase and prolong the meandering sympathy so many still harbor for her. That the polite smiles and whispered words of generic comfort that plagued her would never end, as she went from widow to widow with child.

And while her concern is proven to be valid with some, with most she's pleasantly surprised. Interactions seem to change from being about death to being about new life. They go from focusing on the past to focusing on the imminent future.

Most people stop talking to her about Rick, and start talking to her about their baby. And for that, she is glad. For now, at least, she'd rather remember Rick only with the people who knew him best - who understood him and respected him in the way he deserved.

She finds herself sitting next to Aaron one quiet afternoon, at the playground in Alexandria, the two of them looking on as Judith and Gracie play. The lightest dusting of snow had fallen the night before - the first snow of the season - and the girls are attempting to build a snowman. There's not nearly enough accumulation, and their efforts are resulting in a tiny, abstract sculpture mostly made of grass and dirt, but Judith and Gracie are having fun anyways, and that's what matters.

She and Aaron have been mostly quiet, other than exchanging pleasantries upon meeting and an offhand comment here and there about the construction project going on in front of them.

"You've really popped this past week or so," Aaron tells her.

She sighs playfully, and looks down at her stomach, sticking out through the opening in her unzipped coat, covered up with the biggest, warmest sweater she could find in all of the ASZ. It's true; she feels like her stomach has at least doubled in size in the last few days.

"Judith keeps making fun of me for waddling around. She's always saying, 'You walk so funny, Momma! Why are you walkin' so funny?'"

The two adults chuckle together.

"She's excited for the baby, I assume? I mean, whenever her and Gracie play together, afterwards, all Gracie talks about is Judith's baby, Judith's baby."

"Oh, so she's taking all the credit for my hard work now?" Michonne asks skeptically, and Aaron laughs. "That little stinker. But yes. Excited is an understatement. I told her we only had a couple more months to go the other day, and I kid you not, she literally fell out of her chair, she was so thrilled."

"Only a couple more months? Really?"

"I'm thirty-two weeks. Eight weeks left. Siddiq wants to send me to Hilltop for one more ultrasound before the weather gets bad, just to make sure everything's okay one more time."

"Can you even ride a horse right now?"

"Definitely not. I will be riding in a cart. We have one more big trade to make with them before winter, so I'm just tagging along with the group."

Aaron hums, and the two go back to watching Judith and Gracie. They're quiet for a few minutes, and then Aaron speaks.

"And how are you?"

She sighs slowly, and her heartbeat speeds up.

"I don't know," she admits.

She knows he's not just asking the question on a surface level - if she has any heartburn today, or an upset stomach, if she woke up on the right or wrong side of the bed this morning, if her week has been eventful, what she's planning on doing for the rest of the day. He's asking about something deeper.

He's asking about Rick.

Aaron is one of the people she allows herself to reminisce with. She feels a certain kinship with him - with his loss of Eric, and his parenting of Gracie. She thinks it's why she allows herself to be so honest with him. And he takes advantage of that, to her benefit. He checks up on her in a way that, incredibly, doesn't irritate her, or make her feel like a child. And he is always straight with her, in kind.

So she allows herself to continue.

"It's like I'm stuck," she whispers. "Just stuck in this nightmare full of pain and longing, and missing him. And I keep thinking that one day I'm going to wake up and it's going to feel better. Even the littlest bit. Not because I love him any less, or miss him any less. But just because...time. 'Time heals all wounds,' and all that sort of stuff. Everyday, though, I wake up, and it hurts just as much as it did the day before. More, sometimes. And I find myself sitting there every once in a while, wondering if it's ever going to stop. Or if the rest of my life is just gonna...be like this.

"And then this," she continues, motioning to her stomach. "I don't even...I don't even know what to say. I mean, I love them, and I want them, more than anything. But it was supposed to be ours. This whole experience was supposed to be between him and me. When we decided we wanted to try for a baby, there wasn't a single part of me that ever imagined I'd end up in this position alone. Even in the world we live in, I never even considered it. It just wasn't...fathomable to me, I guess. But here I am. And now, every time I get excited about something, I just end up thinking about how he won't be here to experience it. How he'll never get to hold them. He won't get to see their first steps, or hear their first words. He'll never get to rock them to sleep. He'll never get to hear them call him Daddy."

"It's like you're constantly pulled in two different directions," Aaron interjects.

She nods, wiping at the wetness that's gathered in her eyes.

"Yeah. And sometimes I'm not quite sad, but I'm never fully happy. I never get to experience anything fully, because grief is always clouding it. But at the same time, I feel guilty for wanting to feel better, because then I feel like I'm pushing the memory of him away."

"Rick would want you to be happy," Aaron tells her immediately, urgency clear in his voice. "Even if being happy meant you forgot him altogether - which, I promise you, you never will - he would want that for you."

"The rational part of me knows that," Michonne assures him, "but I can't stop myself from feeling like I'm betraying him."

She stops, and takes a breath. The baby shifts inside her. She laces her fingers together, and then rests them on the roundest part of her belly.

"So I guess, a large part of me doesn't know what I'm doing. Doesn't know what I'm going to do," she confesses quietly. Hesitantly. She doesn't like admitting to being not in control, but if she's being truthful, she hasn't had anything together since that bridge blew up in front of her.

A silence falls over the two of them. Judith drops a handful of snow on top of Gracie's head, and the two girls' giggles fill their ears.

"There are no easy answers," Aaron muses.

Michonne glances at him out of the corner of her eye. He's slouched over, elbows on his knees, chin resting in his hands.

He says, "I wish there were, and I wish I had them for you. But there aren't. Though, I will tell you that it does get better. Maybe hearing that doesn't really help anything, or maybe it's not what you want to hear right now. But it gets better. It's slow, admittedly. So slow that you might not even realize it's happening. Then, one day you'll be lying in bed, about to fall asleep, and it'll dawn on you that you didn't cry today. Or maybe even all week. Or you'll think of something Judith told you, and you'll remember that it made you laugh. I mean, really laugh. It's things like that. Stuff that you wouldn't have been able to do a month ago. And don't get me wrong, you'll still have bad moments, and awful days. That's just the nature of losing the person you love most in the world. Like with me - there are some mornings when I wake up and I miss Eric so much that it feels like I can't breathe. But that's when you have to hold onto those little things."

"I won't forget him?" she breathes.

"You won't forget him."

"Promise me, Aaron," she says sternly, turning in her seat and reaching out, taking his face between her hands and staring directly into his eyes.

Aaron brings his hands up to rest over hers.

"I promise, Michonne," he vows. "You won't forget him. Your heart won't let you."

She's reminded of what she told Judith, all those weeks ago.

And as long as he's in there - as long as we love him - he'll always be with us. Always. No one can ever take him away from you. No one. Not ever.

"And the baby," Aaron begins, letting her hands go as they begin to fall from his face. "I know it seems overwhelming right now. When I adopted Gracie, right after Eric died, a large part of me thought I was insane. But she's been the best thing that ever could've happened to me. And I know when this little one comes along, it'll be the same way for you. Every time they laugh, or smile, or, hell, look at you, you'll feel a little piece of your soul being stitched back together.

"And just think," he tells her, his lips lifting into a half smile, "they're a piece of Rick. A living, breathing piece of him that you'll get to hold in your arms every day. Tangible, physical proof of your love, and all that you meant to each other."

She stares down at her stomach, running her hand over it, and a tear falls from her eye.

"Momma!" Judith yells then, and Michonne looks up in time to see the four-year-old barreling towards her, an excited smile on her face. She crashes into her legs, hugging them, and then crawls up on the bench, settling herself between Michonne and Aaron. Gracie comes behind her, and crawls into her father's lap.

"Do you like our snowman, Momma?"

She lifts her eyes to look at the girls' creation. As predicted, he's more brown than white, with only one arm and no nose, standing lopsided, with Gracie's purple scarf thrown over his head haphazardly, and one of Judith's pink gloves stuck precariously on the end of his stick-arm.

And through her tears, Michonne laughs.

She really laughs. And then she wraps her arm around her daughter's waist, and pulls her into her side.

"Yeah, Judy," she murmurs. "I love it."

***

"It's snowing today."

The riverbank is covered with a thin blanket of white, the water covered sporadically with chunks of ice. She stands today instead of sits, bundled in her fluffy winter coat. She can't manage to zip it over her belly anymore, even if she wanted to.

She glances quickly over her shoulder. The group she traveled to The Hilltop with is just at the edge of her vision, talking among themselves. Thankfully, none of them are very close to her or her family, and none of them realize the significance of where they are. Or of the alternate route she directed them on to get them here.

"I can't stay long this time. I'm not alone. I can't ride a horse at this point, so I can't come by myself. So I'm with a group, on our way back from Hilltop. I told them I had to pee, so I have to be quick. But I had to see you. I had to."

She reaches into her pack.

"Enid gave me my last ultrasound today."

She pulls out her final photo for him.

"Our they is a he, Rick. We're having a boy."

She can't say it without getting tears in her eyes. They fall down her cheeks, sting her skin as the cold catches them.

She stares at the picture, at their little baby boy. Her third son. His second.

"I'm gonna name him after you."

She smiles as she thinks of it.

"Rick Grimes, Jr.. Rick, Jr.. Is that cheesy? I don't care. We both know that you were always a little cheesy."

She turns slowly, and walks toward their tree. With some effort, she manages to kneel down. She brushes away the snow with her hand, until she finds the other two photos. She places a kiss onto the shiny surface of the new one she holds, and then lays it down on top of the last one. Before she anchors it with the rock, she traces her thumb over his head, and his tiny feet.

"I think we'll call him RJ."

[krreader]

BTS reacting to spending the day at an amusement park with you.

pairing: bts x reader fandom: bts warnings: / genre: fluff ; crack

a/n: @meiomi-illustrates-trash-blog thank you so much for your request bb. I honestly had a blast writing this, it’s just something really fluffy. But I feel like after the LaB update, that’s exactly what we all need lol. hope you enjoy ♥

ask box | masterlist | fandoms | faq | multifandom reader blog

kim seokjin

“Are you excited about going to the amusement park?”

“Hmm,” he pretended to think for a moment, before saying: “I am. But there's one thing I'm more excited about.”

“Oh? Which would be?”

“Spending the day with my beautiful girlfriend.”

“Oh my god, you're so cheesy,” you laughed as you got out of the car, but he still got a big kiss the second you were both out, because you couldn't get enough of him calling you his girlfriend. And well, if he wanted to add a compliment to it, then so be it. You most certainly wouldn’t complain.

min yoongi

“What are you..- Yoongi, come on!”

There he was, still standing at the entrance in the only shadow-y part this park seemed to have on this beautiful, but extremely hot day.

“No.”

“If we're not fast enough the lanes are going to be too long. Then we'll have to wait even longer in the sun. Is that what you want?”

Were you his mother? Were you his grandmother? Or were you his girlfriend? Sometimes it was really hard to tell.

So with a pout, he came walking towards you, murmuring a: “I'm going to burn up and it'll be your fault” on his way.

You shook your head with a laugh and ran after him, pretty much jumping on his back. At least one of you was super excited.

jung hoseok

He was currently talking to one of the other members when you suddenly stood in front of him, your arm linked with Jungkook's.

“I'll go around with Jungkook for a bit, okay?”

My god, never has his head snapped this fast.

“What? Why? Why Jungkook? Why you and Jungkook? Why not me? I'm your boyfriend, not him,” he pretty much stumbled over his words, that’s how fast he was speaking.

“Well, because you don't like rides.. I don't want to make you ride them with me.”

“What? Pfft,” he got up and playfully pushed the maknae away, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, “Watch me, baby.”

I think it's needless to say that he was about to pass out after the first ride, so you decided to take him back to the others and just stay there with him for a bit. Just in case he would actually fall unconscious.

kim namjoon

You were just casually strolling through the park, your fingers interlinked with his, when he suddenly stopped and turned his head to look at you.

“Wait here for a sec, okay?”

“Uh.. sure.”

You thought he might have to go to the bathroom or wanted to buy something to drink, but only a couple of seconds later, he was standing on a bridge that was a bit higher up and made a heart with his arms, forming a: “I love you” with his mouth.

And that was probably one of the moments in your shared life in which you realized you never wanted to live in this world without having this goofy, yet adorable man by your side.

park jimin

When you had arrived at the amusement park, you had both asked yourself whether or not this had been a good idea. Some rides looked absolutely terrifying.

But you had decided you'd at least try one of the big ones, knowing to have the other one by your side made it less scary.

And you were glad you did, because it turned out to be so much fun.

You smiled at him when you were walking away from the first ride, “Which one is next?”

“Someone's excited,” he grinned as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, “I don't know. You decide, I follow wherever you want to go.”

“Aw,” you pressed a kiss against his plump lips, “You're the perfect guy, you know that?”

Well, it didn't hurt to tell him every once in a while.

kim taehyung

“Tae?” you pouted.

“Hm?” he put away his wallet, a small smile displayed on his lips.

“Could you open this for me?”

“What, I have to pay for it AND open it? What do I get in return?”

“Anything you want.”

Now that was a deal. He grabbed the ice cream out of your hands and carefully opened it with his teeth, before throwing away the paper and handing it to you.

“Here. And,” then he pointed towards his lips, wiggling his eyebrows at what he wanted.

You only wanted to give him a quick peck, but he instantly had his arm around your waist and held you against him for a moment longer. Just because he could.. because you were his.. and he still couldn't believe it.

jeon jeongguk

“Are you okay?” Jeongguk laughed as he helped you down the stairs, “You sure you're not dizzy?”

“I'm fine, Kookie. It’s just that not everyone can handle a million loops like you can, you know?”

“It was so much fun, though,” he wrapped his arms around you from behind as soon as you two were out of the way.

For a moment you didn't say anything and just let him hug you, before you quietly said: “You want to go again, right?”

“Did we have the same thought? Oh my god, we really are soulmates,” he grabbed your hand and pulled you with him to the back of the line again, “Come on!”

You really were in love with a five year old, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[miccicci]

                                       CRIPTOLOGY 101

                                       RootShoot78 (Miccicci)

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17001558 

Fandom: Person of Interest 

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No archive warnings apply

Categories: F/F

Characters: Root (Samantha Groves),Sameen Shaw, Harold Finch, the Machine

Relationships: Root (Samantha Groves) / Sameen Shaw 

Summary:

The one in which Root keeps writing coded messages to Shaw just to piss her off and Shaw wants to punch her in the face (as usual).

The first time it happened was a Sunday afternoon. Shaw was playing fetch with Bear when she got a text from Root, whom she thought was sleeping in the other room.

01001011 01101001 01110011 01110011 00100000 01101101 01100101 00100000 01101001 01100110 00100000 01101001 00100111 01101101 00100000 01110111 01110010 01101111 01101110 01100111 00101100 00100000 01100010 01110101 01110100 00100000 01100100 01101001 01101110 01101111 01110011 01100001 01110101 01110010 01110011 00100000 01110011 01110100 01101001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01100101 01111000 01101001 01110011 01110100 00100000 01110010 01101001 01100111 01101000 01110100 00111111

Shaw looked puzzled, her eyes falling on a heart emoji at the end. “What the hell is this?”

She entered the bedroom without knocking and found Root cross-legged on the bed, working on her laptop.

“Root”. She completely ignored her. “Root” she called louder.

“Mh, yeah?” she said distractedly, barely raising her eyes.

“Did the Machine finally damage your head?”

Root’s lips curved to form a little wry smile. “Why, do you miss role-playing? You be the human and I’ll be the robot?” she said, not even trying to hide her smirk.

When Shaw didn’t answer, she shrugged her shoulders and continued: “I just thought it’d be fun to explore new ways of communicating”.

“Communication is effective when speaker and listener understand the same code of language. I don’t speak nerd.”

Root tilted her head and gave her a both stern and amused look. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a few numbers now, Sameen” she challenged her.

Shaw stared back at her for a few moments and then sighed. “Fine”.

She closed the door and grabbed Root’s second laptop that was resting on the desk. She groaned while searching for a way to convert what she believed was binary code and knowing she would regret this already. Once she’d put all the zeros and ones into the converter and sneaked a few disapproving glances at Root in the meantime, she clicked the convert button, only half curious as to what she would find there, the other half was already preparing to roll her eyes.

“Kiss me if I’m wrong, but dinosaurs still exist, right?”

Shaw stared at the screen with a deadpan expression, not sure what to think. She looked at Root. “Kill me if I’m right, you’re getting everyday more annoying, aren’t you?”

“So you didn’t think it was cute?” she said, teasing her.

“Yeah sure Root, you’re adorable…” Root smiled, detecting Shaw’s sarcasm “…like an intestinal parasite.”

“I love your similes”. Everything that came out of Shaw’s mouth sounded endearing to her.

Shaw groaned. “Just stick to English next time, ok?”

After closing the laptop, Shaw got up and walked towards the door followed by Root’s eyes, but when she had her hand on the knob, she stopped. Root looked at her curiously, but just as she was about to ask her what was wrong, Shaw turned around and to her surprise, she planted a quick kiss on her lips.

“What was that for?” Root asked a little dumbfounded, as anytime Shaw would do something unexpected like that. “I thought you were going to punch me”.

“Well…” she said “…you are wrong.” And with a smirk playing on her lips she walked away, leaving a dreamy Root behind.

___________________

The second time it happened, Shaw was in the subway with Finch. She hadn’t had a break for ten hours and was about to take the first bite of her pastrami sandwich, when the screen in front of her lit up.

“BTHBTLYNLSZMIIAEXQ?”

She eyed it suspiciously. “Finch, I think your computer is trying to talk to you.” She hummed when she finally got to taste her sandwich. "Better than sex.”

“What do you mean it’s trying to talk to me? Is it the Machine?”

She shrugged and nodded towards the computer. Finch studied the message and stated that it’d probably been written by a human, to which Shaw made an acknowledging sound in between mouthfuls, but then stopped chewing when realization dawned on her. “It’s her” she said with her mouth full. She tried to ignore it and focused all her attention on the delicious sandwich in her hands. But the more she ate, the more she thought about what that meant. And the more she thought, the more she got angry that her first meal of the day had been ruined. She sighed heavily and put down her half-eaten sandwich. “Finch, this is for me.”

“How do you know?”

“It’s Root. I don’t know if she’s going crazy or she just wants to piss me off, but she’s sending me these coded messages or whatever and all I want to do is eat my sandwich. I have no idea how to crack this thing, can you do it?”

Finch gave her an alarmed look. “Of course, Miss Shaw.”

“Thanks” she said, resuming to eat.

After a while, Finch updated Shaw: “It would appear Miss Groves has furtherly encrypted the message using another cipher, these letters make no sense. Let me work on it.”

“Sure, whatever.“

It was only five minutes until he spoke again: “Oh dear.”

“What”

“She- um… Well, she…” Finch stuttered awkwardly, adjusting his glasses.

Shaw narrowed her eyes, hopped down and looked over Finch to scan a piece of paper in his hands and her eyes widened. She violently grabbed the paper from his hands and stormed out of the subway, leaving him alone with this new trauma.

___________________

“Wanna fuck me tonight? Really?!”

“Well… do you?” Root said in a saccharine sweet voice.

“Finch read that!”

“Well honey…that’s why it was encrypted.”

“Are you serious? The only reason he read that is because you encrypted it! And you couldn’t just…” she pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head. “You really needed to use a combination of two ciphers to tell me to fuck you?”

“Are you giving me permission to simply slip naked in your bed next time, then?”

“No, I’m not.”

“I think you should.”

“I think I should shoot you.”

“Mmh, kinky” she said, causing Shaw to roll her eyes. “I thought we would be done with guns at this point.”

“A girl can dream.”

“Of course.” Root replied. “Are you mad at me?”

“I’m always mad at you. Right now I really want to hurt you.”

This was the way with Root. She would either send you a secret coded invitation or she’d straight up slip into your bed naked. Who needs half measures anyway?

Root ventured to hook a finger in Shaw’s jeans’ loops to get her close but instead she found herself slammed against the wall by Shaw’s strong arms, their faces only inches apart. What was with Shaw and her gluing herself to Root everytime she was pissed at her? Not that she minded, of course. When she had recovered her breath, she said: “It was really that embarrassing with Finch, huh?”

“You have no idea” she growled, her low voice sending a shiver down Root’s spine.

“Why don’t I make it up to you tonight…“ she said with a suggestive smile, tracing a finger down Shaw’s chest ”…my offer is still valid.“

Shaw scowled, batting Root’s hand away and backing off her. “Why do you always have to be so irritating?”

“That’s why you love me.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

Even though she felt the urge to hit her, she had to admit the offer was tempting, but she still wanted her to pay.

“Let’s make a deal”.

“Mh?” Root ‘s curiosity was piqued.

“If tonight you can get me off in less than one minute…” she paused, Root’s curiosity was definitely engaged now, “… you’re safe. If you can’t do that-”

“Tsk, please.”

“If you can’t do that, I’m gonna make your life a living hell for the next week.”

Root didn’t hesitate: “Deal.”

___________________

Fuck this woman and her tongue.

Shaw was trying her best not to come, but Root was using all her best tricks and it was proving really hard to resist. She even started to grind around Root’s fingers unconsciously and barely fought the urge to grab her by the hair to push her in. A moan escaped her mouth as she had almost forgotten about their deal at this point.

But then Root stopped abruptly. “Sorry Sam, the Machine needs me.”

“What? Seriously?” Shaw said, instantly missing the expert fingers that had left her on the edge.

“She’s printing me a new identity as we speak”.

“Ugh, you can’t even finish me?”

Root laughed: “Someone’s eager. Weren’t you supposed to give me hell for a week?”

“In fact I didn’t come, the minute is over” she said lying to herself.

“Yeah but you were pretty close to coming. If the Machine hadn’t called-”

“Bullshit. It doesn’t count.”

Root tilted her head and smiled, curling her nose. “I think it does.”

Shaw, who was resting on her elbows, dropped dramatically onto the bed and groaned, while Root went to pack a little bag with her guns and some clothes. Once she got everything she needed, she climbed on the bed to kiss her favourite sociopath goodbye. Shaw waited until Root was out the door to say: "I won.”

“No you didn’t.“

___________________

The next day, Sameen was stuck in the subway alone, bored and frustrated that they had left her there. She was cleaning all her guns for the fourth time when a message popped up on the monitor very much like the day before. She was certain it couldn’t be Root this time, since she was on a mission and wouldn’t have time for this. But when she took a look at the screen, she frowned.

“486F6E65792C2077652072616E206F7574206F66206D696C6B2C2063616E20796F752062757920697420706C656173653F”

“It better be the Machine who hacked her brain.”

She noticed something that startled her then. “Wait, she’s using the fucking emergency line?”

Shaw was furious, she started to pace the room.

She’s on a mission, maybe she needs help? She’s using this code for extra safety?

She whistled for Bear to come. “Come here buddy”. She threw a bone for him to catch.

No, she’s just teasing me again. I’m not playing her stupid ass game.

“Good boy.” She scratched his ears while he lunched forward to lick her face.

But why did she use the emergency line? What if she’s in trouble and I’m not helping her?

She tried to resist, she really did, but the thought of an injured Root by the hands of someone that wasn’t her made her angry and overcame the annoyance she was feeling. So she gave in, she sat massaging her temples and started decoding the message. After a few attempts she screamed in frustration and kicked the computer, annoyed that she had to turn to the internet to figure it out, but she had a feeling that this time Root was being serious. Come on.

After a quick research she discovered it was hexadecimals and ran the code to convert the message to ASCII.

“Honey, we ran out of milk, can you buy it please?”

Shaw blinked a few times to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. Unfortunately, she wasn’t. Root had actually sent her a coded message to tell her to buy fucking milk. She felt herself starting to tremble from rage, since Root wasn’t even remotely in danger and was probably home watching her somehow and laughing. She got up from the chair, determined to end this once and for all.

“You keep watch on this place, I’ll be back soon” she said to Bear and then grabbed a bottle of expensive looking scotch before heading out.

When she got home, she found Root leaning on her desk, intent on working on her laptop, she didn’t even see her. Shaw sneaked towards her in absolute silence, until- SBAM! She slammed the bottle on her desk. Root jumped and made a little squeal, bringing her hand to her chest instinctively. “Jesus, you scared me”.

“Good.”

“Oh nice, you brought drinks”.

Shaw snatched the bottle away from Root before she could even touch it. “Not for you.” She moved the bottle on the table and grabbed a glass.

Root pouted. “Mh, why so grumpy?”

“I’ll fucking kill you, Root.”

Root raised her eyes from the laptop while she continued to type and smiled knowingly.

Shaw poured herself a much needed drink and smelled it briefly, then muttered into her glass: “Thank God Finch buys top shelf.”

“Maybe you should spank me instead”.

Shaw choked and sputtered her whiskey, her throat burned but she still managed to give Root a death glare.

“Mmh, that’s just the look I was hoping for.” Root bit her lip, her voice an innuendo.

Despite herself, Shaw felt a pool of heat in her lower belly, making its way through her anger and easing her just enough not to punch her in the face that instant. Nonetheless, she pretended not to be affected by her words and if possible, she looked even more pissed, pursing her lips. Unfazed, Root got up and close to the shorter brunette and whispered seductively in her ear: “I’ve been such a bad girl, Sameen, you need to punish me.”

Shaw’s spine tingled with pleasure and irritation and she lifted her gaze to see a smirk forming on the hacker’s lips. She reconsidered punching her, but she knew Root would never stop until she indulged her, so shaking her head almost imperceptibly, she fluttered her eyes shut and sighed: “I guess…If I killed you, the Machine would go full AI on my ass. This sounds a lot more fun.” Then she added: “Although the real punishment for you would be no punishment at all, but I am still missing an orgasm from last night, so.”

Root perked up. “Soo, are you free tonight?” she asked playfully, she knew she was. Her eyes were sparkling with their usual mischief.

“You know I am. Just remember that I’m gonna get back at you for doing this, at some point. And I swear to God, if you ever use another damn code or whatever, I’m gonna end you.”

LATER THAT NIGHT

“Root?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Are you doing Morse Code on my clitoris with your tongue?”

“…maybe” she said, “Do you want me to stop?”

There was an emphatic silence from Shaw, while she collected her thoughts and remembered her previous threats.

“I’ll fucking kill you, Root.”

Shaw stared blankly at the ceiling for a few seconds, then closing her eyes, she slowly exhaled and said reluctantly: “No, don’t stop.”

Root instantly wore a smug grin. “Didn’t you say-”

Shaw huffed loudly and pushed Root’s head back between her legs. “Shut up”.

Revenge could wait.

[angsty-violet]

Time Will Tell

My Secret Santa for this year. This goes out to one of my favorite authors @bold-sartorial-statement Someone who is a lovely writer and that I hope enjoys what I wrote. Here is the AO3 link for those who would prefer to read it that way (it is a bit large to read it on here I think but I wanted anybody who doesn’t have an AO3 to be able to read it too) https://archiveofourown.org/works/17024565

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Barry Allen/Leonard Snart Characters: Barry Allen, Leonard Snart, Mick Rory, Iris West, Cisco Ramon, Sara Lance Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff Summary:

Barry Allen never expected to find his soulmate and Leonard Snart never wanted to.

Barry Allen hadn’t really planned on finding his soulmate. He was in love with Iris and she was who he wanted. They were both well aware of the fact that they weren’t each other’s soulmates. However, Barry had always held out hope that he would be able to convince her to give him a chance and she would realize how perfect they were for each other. It was a little naïve sure but he thought what he thought and had clung to his delusion for years.

That was until she had found her soulmate. Barry had nothing against Eddie. Not really. He also wanted Iris to be happy in life. So, he did the only thing that he could live with and backed off. He backed off and allowed her to be happy with her soulmate. It took him a really long time to accept that this was what was happening but eventually he had.

He had also, in an overly dramatic fashion, resigned himself to dying alone.

He was certain that there was no one out there that he would fall in love with more than Iris so he wasn’t going to look. It was fortunate for him that Fate had other ideas. Just because Barry Allen thought he knew best didn’t mean that he did. He certainly didn’t know best when it came to his own life.

ColdFlash

Len had never allowed himself to think about a soulmate. He had spent too many years watching his mother be smacked around by her soulmate, his father, to be anything but cynical about them. He had always believed that even if he found that person that he wouldn’t give in to them.

He wasn’t going to become like his mother.

He wasn’t going to be hit and belittled and killed for a soulmate. That was why when he passed his 20s, the age most people met their soulmates, he breathed a sigh of relief. He was nothing if not another statistic and the older you got the less likely it became that you were going to find your soulmate. By his mid-thirties, he had basically forgotten all about the whole soulmate business. It wasn’t for him. Or so he thought.

ColdFlash

Barry Allen breathed a sigh of amazement. He still couldn’t get used to his speed. It was fantastic. It was also fantastic what he could do with it. For the first time in his life, he was stopping crime while it happened instead of looking for evidence after the fact. It was exhilarating, it was amazing, it was exhausting.

He had never known just how much work it was going to be to be a superhero. All of those patrols and crimes and late nights. He also seemed to eat a million calories a day. Cisco had come up with those bars for him but they tasted awful.

For some reason when Barry had been thinking about his future as a superhero he hadn’t remembered all of the bad parts that came with it. Those two only being the tip of the iceberg. Caitlin suggested that maybe it was because he had nothing to do for fun. That if he had a hobby that maybe he would feel better. She also said that he was drowning himself in work to forget about Iris. How ridiculous was that?

ColdFlash

Len was not very amused when some asshole in a skintight leather suit began foiling his robberies. It was severely stressing him out. Mick watched as he made another loop around the living room of their current safehouse.

“Just sit down already and if you check those blueprints one more time I am going to beat your ass into the floor.” Len frowned but folded himself onto the sofa. Despite his racing thoughts, his movements were smooth and languid like they usually were. It didn’t take long before his mind had made the loop of thoughts again. He also found it impossible to sit still. His leg was jittery and he kept checking his watch was synchronized with the clock.

“I swear to God Snart!”

“Oh yeah, yours or mine?” Mick gave him such a dry look that it shut Len up. “Sorry. Just can’t seem to figure it out. How the hell is anyone getting there fast enough to stop us? I have it timed out to the second. It isn’t humanly possible.”

“So maybe he isn’t human. Its all over the news that those meta-things are popping up all over the place. Maybe he is one of those.” Len blinked owlishly for a moment and Mick and then smiled.

“I think that maybe you are right Mick. Now we need to do something about it. Something to lure him out and get him to slip up. Something nice and clever.

ColdFlash

Barry had to admit if only to himself someplace where Joe couldn’t see his facial expressions, that Leonard Snart was a really good thief. Like, a world-class thief. The kind you read about in the papers that never get caught but leaves a calling card to say it was him. He was so good in fact, that Barry was pretty certain that if it wasn’t for his speed they wouldn’t ever come close to catching him.

Even with his speed, he couldn’t see to match the man. Not yet at least. It seemed as though Snart had accounted for every possible little thing including superheroes with superspeed. That was what made him truly impressive.

His butt wasn’t that bad either.

He kept that particular thought to himself. He also tried to keep from thinking about Snart too much. The last thing that he needed out of life was a crush on his enemy. In fact, that might have been in Cisco’s “How to be a Superhero” guide. What was he supposed to do? Not look? There was no, not looking at that piece of perfection.

Also those eyes of his! So cool and piercing. You couldn’t look him in the eye without wanting to swoon. Maybe it was too late for Barry to stop this crush after all.

ColdFlash

Len had every single part of this plan nailed to the second. He had contingencies for his contingencies. He also had the thought that it was all going to go to shit despite his planning. Still, in for a penny, in for a pound. The train was, if you asked him, a stroke of brilliance. Lots of hostages, far from back up and thin walkways that were easy to ice.

So he lured the Flash (really? the Flash? Sounded like he ran around flashing people) onto the train and began to taunt him. A crack about his age (he sounded like he was 17) and cornering him on the train seemed to make everything go to plan. It was a good plan. Even down to Flash’s friends coming to rescue him. He had to hand it to Ramon, that vacuum looked like a large cold gun from the outside. If you weren’t the sort of person to take apart the gun and put it back together the first chance you got it might have fooled you.

Len was the sort of person to take it apart the first chance he got.

He wasn’t fooled but backed off anyway. It was fun messing with the Flash. He would hate to have to kill him because the kid did something foolish. However, he was keeping the diamond. He really was going to enjoy messing with the Flash. It should be a lot of fun, which is something he had been missing lately.

ColdFlash

Barry Allen was an idiot. He flopped down on his bed and groaned. He couldn’t believe he had a crush on Leonard Snart of all people. It was driving him to distraction. At work, on patrol, while fighting with the man.

He was the enemy and Barry Allen was falling for him.

It was fun to verbally spar with the man. He was witting and always had a good comeback. Frankly, the night with the train had been the most fun that he had had in years. The comments, the strategy, trying to outsmart Snart had made him smile. It had also taken his mind off of Iris. For the first time, he wasn’t mooning over her. He was mooning over Snart now but at least he wasn’t mooning over her.

If only he could get the man to stop killing people. He began to think about what could be done. If he could get him to stop killing people than maybe he could change Snart. Maybe they could have something. Barry buried his face in his pillow when he realized where his train of thought had taken him. Now he was thinking about a relationship with that psychopath. What was wrong with him?

He needed to get his head back in the game. This was really beginning to get out of hand. However, his traitorous mind began to come up with ways to get Snart to stop killing people. He had an idea that would make everyone really angry at him but he figured that it might work. He just needed to be fast enough.

ColdFlash

Len was working out the details of a new plan. He wanted to figure out who the Flash was underneath the mask. He figured that the best way would be to kidnap one of his friends. If he could get his secret identity he could mess with the kid all he wanted. He was still ironing out the details but Mick was getting antsy. He wanted to get out and steal some stuff. Burn some stuff.

Len figured that one little heist before he found out the Flash’s identity wouldn’t hurt. The man, despite his speed, could never seem to catch up to him anyway. A little art gallery robbery would settle Mick some and get them a little cash. He was also hoping to get something to decorate his apartment. Its walls were seeming a little bare still and he figured a nice piece would do the trick.

Plus an easy heist would help calm his nerves. Len didn’t really know why he felt so jittery around the superhero but he did. He didn’t want to make a fool of himself. He needed to keep cool.

ColdFlash

Barry Allen was near jumping with excitement that night. He was going to ruin Snart’s heist and make him quit killing people. Tonight was going to be the night. When Cisco was getting ready to send him out, Barry nearly told him. He almost told the whole plan. Cisco was his best friend and would probably understand. At the last minute though, Barry chickened out.

Cisco would just have to find out after it happened.

Knowing that this was probably a really bid mistake but still planning on going through with it, Barry headed out. There was something niggling at the back of his mind. Barry knew what it was. He knew exactly why he was willing to try and get Snart to stop killing people. He just didn’t want to admit it to himself.

When he arrived Barry Allen knew that there was something he hadn’t counted on. It was just Snart at this particular heist. Rory was there too. He had a moment of indecision where Snart was able to get a shot off. He just barely avoided the shot and knew he needed to do something soon. Only one of his tasks could be completed tonight.

He could either get the man alone and make him stop killing people or he could foil the heist and save the art. His mind, or his heart. His mind was too slow for his heart. Before he even quite knew what it was that he was doing, Barry had sped off with Snart coming to land in a forest.

ColdFlash

Len had not expected his enemy to be there. This was a little bit of a small job to attract the city’s superhero. He had just figured that he would take off with the art and deal with the Flash a different time. It seemed that Barry hadn’t figured on Mick being there as he stood for a moment just looking at them.

Len took this moment to fire off a shot. The Flash regained his wits with seconds to spare and dodged the shot. Good, Len would hate to hurt him. Ignoring that particularly troublesome thought, he began to give directions to Mick about what to take and what to leave.

He had barely gotten them out before the world was a blur. When everything cleared he and the Flash were stood in a forest far from where they had been. Len looked around them in confusion. Didn’t the Flash realize that Mick would finish the heist without him? That he technically failed at his job? He looked at the superhero for an explanation.

“Why are we out here?” Len covered his worry with a drawl. The middle of the forest with an enemy is not really where a person ever wanted to be. This was quite concerning and the abused kid that lived in him said to start ducking.

“I wanted to talk to you alone.”

“Oh, really? About what? What could you possibly want to talk about with little old me?” Len punctuated his words with a wave of his hand. It was that moment that Barry basically abandoned his whole speech about people’s lives and how Snart should stop killing them.

“We are soulmates.” It was said softly but with conviction. An irrefutable statement. Snart however, drew back as though he had been slapped.

“We are not! I don’t have a soulmate! And even if I did it wouldn’t be a hero!” Barry was surprised at the vehemence but didn’t let it deter him.

“Yes, we are. Yes, you do. And it is. I don’t know why this has you upset. I don’t know what in your past made you so resistant to the idea of soulmates but whatever it was doesn’t apply to us. We are completely different. I don’t know your history. All I know is that I spent years hoping it was someone else. That it was a girl I was in love with and when she found her soulmate I was convinced that I would never want anyone else. That I wouldn’t want to even try. But I was wrong Snart! I do want to try. I want to give this a try. We could be so good together.”

“Oh really? A hero and a murderous thief? I am sure that would go over well with your parents. Oh hey, mom and dad, I found my soulmate. He’s a killer that has done hard time and steals shit for a living. What are we having for dinner?”

“There is so much more to you than that! Besides, it doesn’t really matter. My mom is dead and my dad is in prison for something that he didn’t do. I don’t even want you to stop stealing! I just want you to stop killing people and to give me a chance. Please, Leonard. Haven’t you ever thought about it? Haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like to be with someone that you truly loved and loved you back in a way that most people can’t even imagine? All I want is a chance. That’s it. No strings attached, please.”

“How do I know that you are actually sincere?” Barry didn’t even hesitate. He removed his cowl and looked Len straight in the eye.

“Hi, my name is Barry Allen and I am the Flash. I am also your soulmate and I would love to get to know you.” Leonard paused for a long moment and then sighed softly. A barely-there sound that just seemed to make him so human that Barry’s chest ached.

“Hello Barry, my name is Leonard Snart but my friends call me Len. I think maybe I could get to know you a little bit.” Barry’s grin was radiant

ColdFlash

Barry was over the moon. He flashed Len back to the art gallery and made his way back home. He had turned off his mic during his conversation and would now have to face the music. The threat of Team Flash’s anger wasn’t enough to deter him though. He simply went ahead and kept on grinning.

He really couldn’t help himself.

When he arrived it was to Cisco’s glare and Caitlin’s worried expression. Joe looked a little less irritated and a little more like he was contemplating just outright murdering Barry. Barry shuffled awkwardly and thought about what he was going to say. Barry really didn’t want to have to answer to Joe right now. Right now he just wanted to tell his best friends what had happened and share his enthusiasm.

It occurred to Barry that he was, in fact, a grownup. That he could tell Joe to butt out and that it wasn’t really any of his business. He wasn’t going to of course. You just didn’t say that to the man who raised you. However, he didn’t really have it in him tonight to justify his actions.

“Joe, I know that you probably have an entire speech about how I shouldn’t have turned off my mic that includes lots of shouting and chiding but I don’t really want to deal with it tonight. I just want to tell my best friends what happened and then go to bed. I will explain it to you eventually but tonight is not the time. So please hold onto the lecture for another day and go home. I’m spending tonight here anyway.”

Joe huffed and looked a little put out but left. Barry knew that Joe was angry because he didn’t say anything on the way out but he couldn’t bring himself to care. It wasn’t really any of Joe’s business and he wasn’t going to explain. That was just the way that it was. Once Joe had left he turned to his two best friends and began to explain to them what had happened.

Caitlan looked as though she were going to object when he finished. However, before she got the chance Cisco had already lit up and was congratulating Barry. He was enthusiastic enough that it helped settle Barry’s fears about this.

“That is amazing Barry! You have been stuck on Iris forever and now you can move on to the person who is perfect for you. I should have known. He was always too nice, too much banter and smirking. He never even really tried to kill you. Oh, he put in a token effort but he never gave it his all. You could tell he was having just as much for as you were. I can’t believe that you got him to agree to stop killing. That is awesome! Think of how much easier our lives would be if you could just talk the villains out of evil.”

“Well, I haven’t talked him completely out of evil. He is still going to go around and steal stuff. He just won’t be killing people.”

“I don’t think that it would be Snart if he didn’t go around stealing stuff. Besides, stealing is a little less supervillain and a little more mild criminal that likes the thrill.”

“I am not so sure that this is a good idea, Barry.” This came from Caitlin, who until that point had been quiet. “I mean he is a villain and you have no idea if he is going to honor his part of the bargain. Plus your relationship might not work out at all. What if this crashes and burns?” Barry frowned at her for a moment but knew that she had a point.

“If he doesn’t honor his side of the bargain then there won’t be a relationship. If it doesn’t work out then I will try and find someone else. We go back to being hero and villain. However, I am willing to take the chance on the person who is probably perfect for me. I am willing to try and see where it goes. I think that I deserve the same amount of happiness as other soulmates get, even if mine is a thief.” Caitlan didn’t look convinced but allowed the matter to drop.

ColdFlash

“Where the hell did he take you?” Mick nearly growled the question. Len could see that he was upset and worried about Len.

“We went to the forest to have a little chat, that’s all.”

“And what was this ‘little chat’ about? Did he threaten you? Did he hurt you? I’ll burn him to a crisp. I’ll skewer and roast him. I’ll bake him into a meat pie with a hot water crust.” Len shot Mick a disbelieving look. “Sorry, that one got away from me. Got stuck on food but you get my point.”

“Apparently we are soulmates.”

“He’s going into the pie!”

“It's fine. We had a talk and came to an agreement. I stop killing people, he leaves me alone on my heists mostly and we give a go for the relationship.” Mick looked really unhappy about it.

“If he lays one had on you he’s getting roasted.”

“Yes, if he steps out of line, he’s yours. In the meantime, we have heists and dates to plan. Are you going to help?”

“Yeah, I’ll help.”

ColdFlash

“Are you out of your mind?”

“Iris, its fine. We have an arrangement. Plus, I’m the Flash. If he tries something I can stop him with my speed. Now how do I know if the pork chops are cooked all the way through?”

“No it is not fine. The pork should be 145 degrees Fahrenheit, use the meat thermometer. You are dating your enemy! How can you possibly think that this is going to turn out alright? He is a killer!”

“Iris, don’t I deserve to have the same kind of happiness that you do? Don’t I deserve to be with my soulmate? Shouldn’t I get to be happy too?”

“What has that got to do with anything?”

“That has got to do with everything! You don’t get to pick your soulmate! All you can do is give a relationship with them a try! I deserve to have the happiness of being with my perfect match. And no matter what you, or Joe or Caitlan say I am going for it. For the first time in my life I am going to be selfish. I am going to go for what I want. You guys are just going to have to accept it.”

Irish made an unhappy noise and stopped out of Barry’s apartment. Barry checked the time and pulled the rolls out of the oven. He checked to see whether or not the pork chops were done and sighed when they weren’t. Well, he had 15 more minutes before the time he had told Leonard.

He had not planned on Leonard being early.

The knock on his door startled him so badly that he nearly dropped his plate of baked potatoes. Managing to save them before they hit the ground, he swore when his hand touched the hot pan and he burned himself. He put the potatoes on the counter and went to open the door. He had forgotten the stool over by the door and immediately tripped over it. He fell against the wall right next to the door and opened it.

ColdFlash

Len was 15 minutes early, as he always was. He held in his hand a bottle of red wine and was dressed fairly casually. He knocked on the door and waited for the speedster to open it. he had expected a quick opening but instead, he heard a curse. He heard the sound of a pan being set on a counter and the regular footsteps across the floor. Then he heard Barry trip over something and slam into the wall next to the door. Barry opened the door from where he was against the wall and gave Len an awkward smile.

“Hey Leonard, come in.” Len raised an eyebrow and Barry chuckled awkwardly.

“I brought a bottle of wine. It’s a nice red that should go with whatever you were swearing at earlier unless its fish.” Barry smiled again, this time with genuine happiness and gestured for Len to come in.

“Yeah, I’m a klutz. Even at regular speed. Especially at regular speed. Dinner’s not quite ready but it should be done in a few minutes. If you would like to have a seat while you wait, I’ll take the wine and put it on the table.” Len tilted his head in acknowledgment and wandered over to the living room.

Dinner had turned out better than either of them planned. They stayed away from hard topics such as family and talked about the things they had in common. Which was quite a lot. They both liked to go to the movies and would rather eat at home than go out. They both enjoyed their little games of course, but also games in general. Board games, card games, word games.

It was at the end of the date that things got a little weird. Most of the time they would both be the one giving the kiss goodnight. Now, however neither knew which one of them should or would do it. If it happened at all. However, before either of them had the chance to really overthink it Barry just went ahead and lightly kissed Len on the corner of this mouth.

It was barely-there and more of a chaste kiss rather than a proper one. It was enough to bring color to Len’s cheeks. Barry could see that he was just a little embarrassed. In true Captain Cold fashion though, he covered it with a pun and made his exit.

ColdFlash

They had five more dates. Sometimes meeting a couple times a week, sometimes not seeing each other for weeks. For the first time in either of their lives though, they were seeing something forming. They were seeing something begin to build that they could plant the rest of their life on.

Len was beginning to trust Barry, just a little. Barry was seeing that his faith in Leonard hadn’t been completely misplaced and the two of them were working it out. Len had convinced Barry that he should get Cisco to build Lisa a gun. It had taken a lot of wheedling and bribery but eventually, Cisco had given in and made the gold gun for Lisa.

Just as things were going well, shit hit the fan.

Len had believed that his father would be out of his life forever. He had thought that he would never have to deal with the bastard coming after Lisa or himself in this lifetime. Fate had other plans in mind.

ColdFlash

Len really did want to go to Barry. He really did want to get help on this. He was scared for his sister’s life though, so he said nothing. He pretended like everything was fine. He hadn’t planned on his father snatching him and forcing to work a job but he could adapt. He always did.

That did not mean that Barry got to jump in the middle of everything. Didn’t the kid know that this was something that he had to do on his own? Didn’t he realize what was at stake here? Obviously not because there he was asking Len if he was okay.

Len thought about it for a moment and responded with “peachy.” However with the arrival of his father he had had to think quickly about the Flash. He did a bit of tricky business with the cold gun that made it look as though he had killed the Flash and continued to help his father. He only hoped that Barry had gotten the message and would actually obey it. It was unlikely, but it could happen.

ColdFlash

Barry had received the message in fact. How could he not when it had been in big bold letters. However, Len was nuts if he thought for one moment that Barry was going to listen to it. That just wasn’t going to happen. He hunted down Len later at Saints and Sinners. Barry insisted that he was going to help Len. That Cisco and the team were going to get the bomb out of Lisa and that everything was going to be fine.

The two of them had been going out long enough that Barry could see past Len’s frosty exterior and see that he was on the edge. Len was barely holding on and really did need someone to help him. It all went by fast from there. Pretending to be Len’s tech guy, pretending to die, hearing that Lisa was safe and showing up to help Len.

After Len killed his father Barry could see him crack into pieces. He helped him to his feet and flashed them back to Len’s apartment. He could see the exact moment that Len completely fell apart. In an unheard of moment of vulnerability he turned and buried his face in Barry’s shoulder. Barry could feel the tears and lightly rubbed Len’s back. Not holding him real tight as Len was too on edge for something that would feel constraining.

Barry wanted to say something, but there was nothing to say. There were no words that would help or fix this. There was nothing to be done. It was just the way that it was.

ColdFlash

There was a dynamic shift that night. The two of them were a little closer, saw each other a little more, spoke to each other with a little more softness. They were building something that Len hoped would last forever.

That was the reason that he nearly laughed out loud when Rip Hunter tried to recruit him and Mick for a mission to save Earth in the future. There was not a chance in Hell that he was going to leave in the middle of building his own future. Also neither he nor Mick were actually heroes and never would be. So he said no and walked away with Mick. He had a date with Barry.

ColdFlash

Barry was so screwed. So unbelievably screwed. He couldn’t believe what had happened. He couldn’t believe what he had done. How could he have done it? How could he have screwed up the most important thing in his life? What the hell had he been thinking? His only choice would be to hunt down Len and beg for his forgiveness, beg that Len would give him another chance.

ColdFlash

Len liked Sara. He liked her a lot. She was a good fighter, smart, beautiful and good at cards. She also didn’t disregard Mick the way that a lot of people did. However, with all of that she was also observant and she listened in on the rumors. Len was well aware that a good number of people on the ship knew about his relationship with Barry.

Mick, Ray, Stein and probably Jax all knew that he was the hero’s soulmate. That also means that the latter three spent time gossiping about him and his relationship. He could deal with the gossip and the speculation. After all, who wouldn’t want to know the reason that he left such a wonderful person like Barry to run around trying to save the world? He certainly would.

What he couldn’t deal with was Sara’s looks and her subtle questions about it. Only Mick knew the whole story and Len didn’t know whether or not he wanted to tell someone else. It seemed like such a small thing when he looked back on it. However, at the time it had felt massive and he had run off with the Legends.

Mick thought the opposite. He was certain it was a big deal if only because it was Len that it happened to. He was good like that. Maybe if he knew Sara just a little bit better, this would be easier.

ColdFlash

Barry was ashamed over his actions that night. He had wanted to immediately take back the words he had said, but that wasn’t how it worked. The next day he had gone by Len’s apartment to apologize. Then Mick’s apartment, the Lisa’s, four of their safehouses and any decent jobs in the city. It soon became apparent that Len wasn’t any of his regular places and he would need help.

When he arrived at the lab he could see Cisco and Lisa talking to each other. They were sat next to each other speaking softly, their heads nearly touching. Barry knew the exact moment that they saw him there. Barry had believed that Lisa would be angry with him. He had figured that she would yell, and scream and threaten him to stay away from Len. He hadn’t counted on Lisa’s quiet. The way that her eyes were just a little red. They way that she didn’t say anything, just turned away.

He definitely didn’t expect for Cisco to lost it at him.

“WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?” Barry winced at the volume.

“Cisco, I can explain what happened!”

“Oh really, you can explain why you broke the one rule no one ever should and laid hands on your soulmate? You can explain the nasty horrible things that you said to him? I’m glad he ran off to save the world! I thought you were a good guy.” The last part had been said softly, all of the steam leaving Cisco in one big rush.

“What do mean he ran off to save the world?”

ColdFlash

“So what really happened between you saying “no” the night before and joining us the next day. Also, I know that you didn’t kill Mick and I think you made the right decision.” Len looked from where he was organizing his hand of cards.

“It’s kind of a long story and thanks.”

“Well, we have kind of a long time before we get out of the vortex. What else do we have to do?”

“It started the night that Rip tried to recruit us for this mission.”

Len couldn’t help the derisive snort as he made his way back to the apartment he shared with Barry. As though he would give up the best thing in his life for a suicide mission. He wasn’t actually a hero, despite what Barry liked to argue.

He began to check off the things that he wanted to do for their date that night. He had a set of plans to woo Barry and make it a romantic evening. It was their anniversary after all.

Two hours later found Len taking the garlic bread out of the oven and setting it on the table. He had just set himself to light the candles to set the mood when his phone rang. He glanced down at it and frowned when he saw that it was Barry. Barry wasn’t yet late so it couldn’t be him calling to give an excuse for his tardiness. He answered the phone and instantly regretted it.

Barry was very obviously strung out and tired. Len could see one of the very bad moods beginning to brew in Barry’s voice. He asked what was wrong and Barry explained that Iris had been hurt in an attack by the Rainbow Raider. Len asked if he could do anything and Barry said that there was nothing to be done. Iris was going to be fine. She wasn’t badly hurt, more bruised than anything, with a sprain and a mild concussion that Caitlan wanted to keep an eye on.

Despite that, Barry was going to stay with her.

Len ended the phone call and sighed as he looked over his painstakingly prepared meal. He blew out the candles and started to pack the food up. Barry could have some when he got home, Len wasn’t really in the mood for food.

ColdFlash

It was nearly 2 AM when Barry arrived at home. He had spent the night looking after Iris and he was exhausted. He had stayed with her until he had been relieved by Eddie, despite her assertations that he could go home. He dropped his stuff off and glanced into the kitchen. A thread of guilt entered him as he looked at the set table and the candles.

He had completely forgotten about their anniversary.

He stripped out of his clothes and crawled into bed with Len. He thought that he had made it without waking his lover. He was wrong though. He just didn’t notice Len open his eyes and check the time on the clock.

ColdFlash

Len woke up only a few hours later at 5 AM and found himself unable to go back to sleep. He rolled over and snagged his phone off of the nightstand. However, he snagged the wrong phone and accidentally picked up Barry’s phone. He was about to set it down when he noticed a new message from Iris. Unable to resist he opened it and read it.

”Hey, Barry. Caitlan let me go about an hour ago. She said that the biggest danger was over. She said that it was a very mild concussion and there is nothing to worry about. I told you that you didn’t have to stay.” Len frowned. Barry blew off their first anniversary for a mild concussion even after Iris told him to leave? Really? Len had carried out heists with mild concussions.

Barry took that inopportune moment to roll over and look at Len. That was the beginning of the end. What began as Barry asking Len why he was reading his text messages devolved into a knock down drag out fight over missing their anniversary and invasions of privacy. It all came to a peak when stood nose to nose screaming at each other, Barry gave Len a hard shove.

Len, not expecting the movement, had stumbled backward and fallen through the glass coffee table. Barry had immediately realized his actions and tried to help Len up off the ground. However Len wasn’t having it. In a cold voice, he told Barry to leave and not come back.

“And that it is how it happened. How it all came to a head.”

“He didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know. I know that he didn’t mean to injure me. Not physically. However, when I swore to myself that I wasn’t going to be abused by my soulmate, I included an addendum. That I wasn’t going to allow myself to be blamed for something that wasn’t my fault. He did, at the height of our fight, he accused me of wanting Iris to suffer. I am not going to put up with that. Not ever.” Sara wrapped her arms around him allowing him to bury his face in her shoulder. To grieve for something he didn’t know he had wanted. Something he would never get now.

ColdFlash

Barry Allen had a plan. The kind of plan that would have everyone in his life trying to lock him up. However, he knew that he had to try. After the legends had brought back the news that Len had sacrificed himself, Barry had been devastated. He had been depressed and unhappy and making bad decisions. This might be one of his bad decisions but he had to try. He couldn’t just allow his soulmate to be dead when he had the ability to change it.

It was a complicated plan that involved lots of running and time travel and hiding. He would sneak onto the Waverider right before they were set to go to the Vanishing Point. He would wait around until the events played out exactly as they were supposed to. Finally, at the last moment, he would swoop in and Save Len from being killed. It sounded simple but it was much more complicated than he had thought.

Despite all of the things that could go wrong, not everything did. He was able to find and get on the ship in more than enough time. He was able to hide out until everything happened the way it was supposed to. He was able to avoid changing time drastically. He had not planned on the time masters. He had not planned on having to fight his way through them and avoid the Legends.

Barry was well aware of the fact that this had to be done right or it would screw up history. He did manage to make it past those. Then he nearly screwed it all up because he forgot that Sara and Mick were there with Len until they had to run away.

ColdFlash

Len knew that Barry was an idiot. He was well aware of that particular fact. That is why he wasn’t surprised to see Barry just out of the corner of his eye. He distracted Sara for a moment and then sent Mick along with her to escape from the end.

He made sure to keep his hand on the device even as he watched Barry begin to build up speed. Len had known that Barry would come for him. He had known that Barry at least cared about him enough not to let him die. Len was able to separate his emotions from the fight from the events of the fight so he let Barry save him.

ColdFlash

Barry began to run building up the necessary speed to get both him and Len back to the Waverider before it took off. This kind of short-term time travel was very tricky for him and he always struggled with it. He saw Len make eye contact with him for a moment and Barry knew that there was no other choice. In a final burst of speed, he snatched Len and timed it so they were hidden on the Waverider in the exact moment they needed to be.

ColdFlash

From that point forward it was pretty easy. Barry ran them to the point in time they were supposed to be. They would inform everyone and everything would work out.

Barry rubbed the back of his neck and looked at Len. Len was gazing around his apartment like he had never seen it before and humming lightly to himself. Barry noticed that Len was studiously looking anywhere but at the speedster.

He knew that it was to be expected but he couldn’t help the shot of hurt that it caused.

Len sighed lightly and turned to his soulmate. He had missed Barry while he had been with the Legends. He had wanted to do nothing more than come back here and kiss his soulmate senseless. Tell him that everything was forgiven and move back into the happy world he had been in.

Life didn’t work that way. For the two of them to work out then needed to have a serious discussion about what went on that night. Len decided that he needed to begin.

His time with the Legends had allowed Len to take a step back from his emotions. To look at the events of that night with a clear mind and unbiased thoughts. What he saw both made him happy and upset him. From an outsiders point of view, Barry hadn’t meant to do it. The had both been exhausted and overwrought. Their fight had escalated and culminated in Barry shoving Len. That wasn’t so bad. Barry hadn’t meant to hurt Len, not really. He had just underestimated his strength.

However, when their fight had been at its height, Barry had accused Len of not caring that Iris was hurt. That was completely unacceptable. Len had worked hard to be the kind of man that Barry needed him to be. He worked hard to be the sort of person that could be a soulmate. He didn’t deserve to have nasty, untrue accusations thrown at him just because Barry was upset.

By the time that he had finished explaining all of this Barry seemed to be more upset than when they had arrived. He took that chance to tell his side of the story. To talk about his lack of sleep. The pressure from Joe about Len being his soulmate and about that night. How Len reading his texts reminded him of Joe not allowing him any privacy. How he hadn’t meant to hurt Len had only wanted to create some distance. By the end of it, they were both worn out. They sat in silence wondering what they were going to do.

“Do you think that we can figure this out, Len?”

“I think we should at least try. Only time will tell if we actually manage it. I just don’t know what we are going to tell all of our friends and family.”

“That can wait till later. I’m sure that everyone is going to have words for me. Especially the Legends and Cisco. I really don’t want to mess this up, Len. I want this to work. And for everything that has happened, and what almost happened with the Vanishing Point, I am really sorry. I never wanted anything like this to happen. I know that I have a lot to make up for and I want to do it. Please give me a second chance.” Len was silent for a moment before answering.

“I expect that you do anything for Mick and Lisa to prove to them you are genuine. No matter how bizarre the task or how much you don’t want to do it.”

“Of course. Anything that they want.”

“Well, I suppose that we could give it a try. Especially since now I seem to be an actual hero.”