#I’m devastated today as I’m getting closer and closer to quitting my dream job

[fruitcoops]

Could you maybe write a “73 questions with Sirius Black” Vogue one? Or something like that.

Yes! I had never seen these videos before and it was a fun challenge to write. Hope you enjoy! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

The house is large, two stories tall and painted a soft gray with white trim around the windows. Holiday lights have yet to be taken down and shine in all colors of the rainbow from the eaves as the camera crew walks up the front steps. The curtains in the window tremble for a moment, then a dog pokes her head through—she is all-black and curious, and looks quite large.

Dorcas Meadowes knocks on the front door; a moment later, it swings open and reveals Sirius Black. “Hey, guys, come on in! You can leave your shoes by the door inside.”

“Thanks, Sirius.” Dorcas kicks off her flats and follows him inside as he sets a dish towel on the end table and leans against it. “How are you today?”

“I’m doing pretty well. Morning practice was productive and I’m feeling good about our upcoming game.”

“We’re here today to ask you 73 rapid-fire questions while you lead us around. Sound good?”

“Sounds good. You can all come inside instead of freezing on the porch,” he laughs, waving them closer. The door shuts with a gentle click.

“First question: on a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now?”

“Hmmm. A solid seven.”

“Do you have any pets?”

“I do!” Sirius leads them into the other room, where the dog is curled up on the couch below the window; he picks her up and gives her a kiss on the head. “This is Hattie and I love her very much.”

“Cute! If you could do a dramatic love scene in a movie with anyone, who would it be?”

Sirius sets the dog down and thinks for a second. “Aside from my fiancé, I’m going to say James Potter. We would kill it and I don’t think it would be that awkward.”

“What’s the origin of your name?”

“Pretty much my whole family has star-themed names. Sirius is the dog star from Canis Major.”

“Brightest star in the sky, too. What’s one thing people don’t know about you?”

“I’m an introvert. Lots of people assume that I’m super social because of my job, but I’m very quiet in real life.” He walks back out to the entrance and takes the towel off the table, then moves into the kitchen. It’s well-lit and painted a deep, warm red. The countertop is scattered with knickknacks and picture frames—clearly, this is a place people spend a lot of time. Hattie, who followed them in, lays down by the oven with a heavy sigh.

“What’s your wakeup ritual?”

Sirius reaches up and pulls two mugs out of the cupboard. “I wake up around seven am and make coffee while Re is in the shower, then rinse off and get dressed while he makes breakfast. It’s a good system. Want some tea?”

“Sure. What’s your bedtime ritual?”

“I don’t think I have one,” he says as he puts the kettle on and ignites a burner on the stove. “Usually we read or watch a movie, then go up to bed and talk for a while. There’s not a big routine or anything.”

“Sounds nice. What’s your favorite time of day?” Dorcas sits on the other side of the kitchen island while he takes a box of peppermint tea down.

“That’s a tough one. I like the in-between spots, like just after sunrise or dusk. Three in the afternoon is usually pretty chill as well. Does anyone else want a cup?”

There are a few murmurs behind the camera and he takes two more down. “What is one thing no one knows about you?” Dorcas asks.

He raises an eyebrow. “If I told you, everyone would know, and it wouldn’t count.”

“Fair enough. Dream country to visit?”

“Anywhere. I think I want to go to Ireland first, though.” Small wisps of steam begin curling out of the kettle, but it doesn’t whistle.

“Do you ever feel pressure to post things on social media?”

Sirius makes a face. “I used to. Eventually I just got tired of it, you know? The whole point of social media is sharing bits of your life with people and it makes me happy to show off my dog, or Re, or my friends. I post things just for fun now.”

The kettle begins to hiss and he reaches back to turn it off. “Sneakers or skates?”

“Skates.”

“Vintage or new?

“Vintage, especially for t-shirts and sweaters.”

“Who is your biggest role model?”

“Pascal Dumais.” Sirius stops pouring for a moment to look up at the camera. “If you ever get a chance to meet him, listen to what he has to say. You’ll be better for it.”

“Wise words. How do you deal with negativity? Oh, thank you.” Dorcas wraps her hands around the mug and takes a small sip while Sirius passes the other ones to the crew.

“Honestly? I don’t give a shit. It used to really bother me, but I’m happy, I have a job I love, and my family cares about me. Why should I care what people I’ve never met think of me?” He sits on the counter and rests his elbows on his knees, blowing on the hot water.

“What are three things you can’t live without?”

“My dog, Remus, and my family.” There is no hesitation in his voice.

“Not hockey?”

“I’d be devastated if I couldn’t play, sure, but it’s not the central focus of my life anymore.”

“What’s one ingredient you put in everything?”

“Does salt count?” He winces as he takes a drink. “Ugh, burned my tongue. I put salt on a lot of things because I drink so much water that it throws my balance off.”

“What is something you’re completely bored of right now?”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Gossip columns and tabloids in general.”

Dorcas hums in agreement. “What’s your biggest fear in life?”

“Losing my loved ones.”

“Window or aisle seat?”

“Window. Anyone walking by always steps on my foot or hits my elbow if I’m in the aisle. Plus, I get a good view and an easy nap spot.”

“What’s your current TV obsession?”

“Avatar: The Last Airbender, which I’m watching for the third time already.” He shakes his head. “It’s just so good.”

“Favorite app?”

He takes a second to think. “Spotify.”

“Secret talent?”

Sirius looks at her over the rim over his cup. “This is going to shock you. Ready?”

“Ready.”

“Hockey.”

“You’re the worst.” Despite her words, Dorcas smiles. “What the most adventurous thing you’ve done in your life?”

“Uh, probably going to Europe with some of the guys last year. We had a lot of fun, but it was crazy.”

“I can imagine it was. How would you define yourself in three words?”

“Tall, dark, and handsome.”

“And apparently not humble,” Dorcas teases. “Favorite piece of clothing?”

“Hoodies.”

“Clothing item everyone should have?”

“Hoodies.”

A door opens behind them and the camera turns; Remus walks out of the basement, covered in sweat as he wipes his forehead with the hem of his shirt and holds his skates in his other hand. “Baby, have you seen…” he trails off when he sees the group of people in the kitchen. Hattie’s tail thumps on the floor. “Um. Hello.”

“Hey, Remus, how are you doing?” Dorcas asks mildly.

The camera pans out to catch both Sirius, who is laughing quietly, and Remus, who flushes pink. “I’m good. I thought you were coming at ten?”

“It’s ten-thirty, sweetheart,” Sirius says, hiding his smile in his tea.

Remus glances at the clock before giving an awkward nod and walking toward the stairs. “I guess I’ll take a shower, then. Sorry about that. Uh, carry on.”

“What’s a superpower you would want?” Dorcas asks as soon as he disappears.

Sirius shakes his head with a grin. “Uh, teleportation. That would be really cool.”

“What’s inspiring you in life right now?”

“Ah, une grande question.” He thinks, then tilts his head toward the staircase. “Moments like that. And the Stanley Cup, of course.” He reaches back and knocks on the wooden cupboard.

“What cause is closest to your heart?”

“LGBT+ rights, especially trans rights. I’m privileged enough to have a platform and I intend to be loud as hell about that.”

“Good.” Dorcas sets her almost-empty mug on the table. “What’s one thing you’d say to your teenage self?”

Sirius lets out a long breath and drums his hands on the light blue ceramic of his cup. “I would say…it gets better. It really, really does. You’re going to feel super shitty for just a little bit longer, but then I promise you will be so incredibly happy that you wake up every morning and it hits you all over again.”

Dorcas nods, and the kitchen is quiet for a moment. “What’s a book that everyone should read?”

“The Hobbit, by J.R.R Tolkien.”

“What would you like to be remembered for?”

“This is going to sound so corny, but I want to be remembered for just being a good person.”

“That’s not corny. How do you define beauty?”

“Remus Lupin.”

“That’s corny,” she laughs, making him smile. “What do you love most about your body?”

“I’m a big guy, which can be a little bit intimidating, but it means I give really great hugs. I’m sure everyone saw the video that went around a while ago.”

“Cap Cuddles?”

He snorts. “Right. You’ve got Finn O’Hara to thank for that.”

“In your opinion, what’s the best way to take a rest or decompress?”

“Being alone,” Sirius says. “There is literally nothing better than getting home and sitting down with a book or something while I can hear Re doing his own thing and Hattie’s napping. It’s one of my favorite parts of the afternoon.”

“That’s the most introverted thing you’ve ever said.” Dorcas grins and finishes her tea just as a faint beeping noise begins in another room. “What’s your favorite way to experience art?”

“Through music, for sure.” He slides off the counter and walks down the hall, leading them toward the laundry room. He gives the camera crew a look as he pulls dry clothes out of the machine and heads back to the living room. “What? Did you think I didn’t do my own laundry?”

“You lost a sock,” Dorcas informs him, picking it off the ground and laying it on top of his head.

“Thanks, D.”

“What question do people ask that you wish they wouldn’t?”

“Lots of people have asked me when I decided to be gay, which is wrong on so many levels.”

“If you could master one instrument, what would it be?”

“Guitar or piano.” He dumps the load of laundry on the couch and opens the back door, holding it for the crew as they walk out into the sunshine. Hattie weaves through their legs and disappears into the bushes along the back.

“I might have to take your dog home with me. If you had a tattoo, where would it be?”

Sirius mock-glares at her. “Let me have my girl! Um, I would love to have a tattoo somewhere on my arm.”

“This might be a hard one. Dolphins or koalas?”

“Oh, that is hard. Probably dolphins. The ocean is terrifying but those little guys are just having a blast.”

“What’s the best gift you’ve ever received?” Dorcas asks as he picks up a tennis ball and throws it across the yard. Hattie emerges from the bushes and races after it in a blur of black fur.

“An engagement ring.”

“Yeah, it was.” Remus walks into the backyard and kisses Sirius’ cheek before bending down to catch Hattie in his arms. His hair is still damp from the shower. “Hello, sweet girl!”

“Who’s your favorite musician?”

“Queen.” Sirius laughs at her surprised look. “I’m gay, what did you expect?”

“True. What’s your favorite board game?”

“Monopoly.” Remus and Hattie disappear from the frame, but the bouncing sound of the tennis ball creates some background noise and Sirius watches them for a moment with pure affection.

“Favorite color?”

“Blue.”

“Least favorite color?”

“Orange.”

“Bowties or knot ties?”

He frowns. “Don’t they all have knots?”

“Smartass.”

“Yep! Uh, regular ties.”

“Bowties are superior!” Remus calls.

“Get your own questions!” Sirius laughs.

“Going off your music answers: records or CDs?”

“I don’t own a lot of records, so I’m going to have to go with CDs. I love the way vinyl sounds, though.” His eyes widen as he looks to the side. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Remus wheezes. “I didn’t need those ribs anyway.”

“For the viewers, the dog just football-tackled him into the grass,” Sirius says, and Dorcas snorts.

“Your hair is famously luscious. Blow-dry or air-dry?”

“Air dry.”

“Coffee or tea?”

“Coffee, but tea is nice in the evenings.”

“What’s the weirdest word in the English language?”

Sirius laughs. “There are so many. Uh, ��jeez’ is the one that comes to mind first.”

“What about the French language?”

“Oiseaux,” he says in a crisp accent. “It means ‘birds’, and you pronounce about three of the actual letters.”

“Good to know. Do you prefer dark chocolate or milk chocolate?”

“Dark chocolate.”

“Stairs or elevators?”

“Elevators. I don’t want to walk up three floors after playing hockey for two and a half hours.”

“Summer or winter?”

Sirius bites his lip in thought as they walk around the yard, where small flowers line the fence in beds and colorful pots. “I love summer because I have actual free time to be with my friends, but winter is hockey season. I don’t know, next question.”

“What’s a dessert you don’t like?”

“I’m not a huge fan of caramel. It’s too sticky.”

“A skill you’re working on mastering?”

“Will you ban me from more interviews if I say hockey?”

“Yes.”

“In that case, I’m working on keeping plants alive, as you can probably see.” He taps the nearest flowerpot gently with his foot; it has ‘Harry’ painted across it in sloppy blue letters. “My godson made that for my birthday.”

“What’s the best thing to happen to you today?”

“This, for sure,” he says with a smile. “I haven’t seen you and Marley in ages.”

“We missed you, too. What’s the worst thing that happened to you today?”

He pouts slightly. “Burning my tongue on tea.”

“Hugs or kisses?”

“Hugs! Though I’ll accept kisses from a few very specific people.”

“Do you have a favorite smell?”

He pauses and cranes his neck to look behind the cameras. “Re?”

“Yeah?”

“What shampoo do you use?”

“Uhhh…” There’s a moment of quiet. “It’s something with lavender, I think.”

Sirius turns back to Dorcas. “Something with lavender.”

“How specific,” she laughs. “What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received?”

He smiles to himself. “There was a young woman, maybe sixteen or seventeen, that came to one of the games earlier this season. I saw her standing with a puck and went over, and while I was signing it she looks at me and says, ‘you are exactly what I wish my older brother was like’. Turns out, she was bisexual and her brother wasn’t super accepting of her. That was…” He shakes his head. “That meant the world to me. I’ll never forget it.”

“You’ve definitely made a big impact on the community,” Dorcas agrees. “What’s the last piece of content you consumed that made you cry?”

“I watched ‘Soul’ the other night and almost had to pause it at one point to pull myself together.”

“Do you prefer animated movies or live-action?”

“Animated, mostly because I wasn’t allowed to watch Disney movies as a kid, so I’ve been catching up as an adult and they rock.”

“What’s your nerdiest quality?

“I love watching documentaries.”

“Sweet or savory?” The back door creaks a bit as they walk back inside and the camera catches a few frames of Hattie and Remus running around the yard together.

“Sweet.”

“In ten years, you have a daughter. What age do you let her date?”

Sirius gives Dorcas a look. “Whenever she wants to. I’m going to impose curfews and stuff, but I’m the last person on the planet to police her love life.”

“Good answer. What’s a song you can listen to on repeat?”

“Don’t Stop Me Now by Queen. Absolute banger.”

“If you could switch lives with someone for a day, who would it be?”

“Arthur Weasley,” he says after a moment. “I would love to know what it feels like to get up in the morning and know you’re about to spend another day wrangling our team. It’s a miracle he hasn’t killed us all with his clipboard.”

“How do you know you’re in love?”

“Oh.” Sirius blinks at her in surprise at the sudden topic change. “Well, for me, I think it’s just…being comfortable around someone. Being able to spend time with them without saying anything and knowing you’re safe, no matter what. It’s the best feeling in the world.”

“What are you most excited about at this time in your life?”

A slight smile crinkles his eyes. “Getting married. That’s going to be awesome.”

“Who is your go-to for having a good laugh?”

“James Potter. He’s the best, and I love him.”

“Last question,” Dorcas says, sliding her list into her pocket. “Many LGBT+ people, especially teenagers, have spoken about how you’re an inspiration. Any words for them?”

Sirius hums in thought. “First of all, thank you for being so open and welcoming. I would never have expected the sheer force of people’s love to come through like that when so many people were saying horrible things. Second, to any kids out there who need to hear it: I’m proud of you. It takes a lot to be true to yourself and even if you’re still in the closet, you’re just as valid as the rest of us. Stay proud.”

“That’s a wrap.” Dorcas gives him a quick hug that he happily returns. “Thanks for letting us crash your morning, Cap.”

“Any time. Thanks for tuning in to Lion Pride, everyone!”

[mamabearcat]

Proposal fic + hair (braiding/brushing) InuKag

Ooh thanks Nonny 😘

Okay, I'm gonna revive an AU I've never actually written but it's been loitering around in the back of my head forever. I may even write it one day if I feel like doing a longer AU full of comedy fluff. The first bit was posted on Tumblr forever ago, but now it gets to be continued!

Inuyasha wasn’t quite sure how he fell into it; who would have thought you could make a career out of being a model for romance covers for fuck’s sake?! Apparently his half-demon heritage that had blessed him with his father's long thick white hair, amber eyes that glowed in the darkness and pointed dog ears gave him an edgy look, whatever that meant. His ability to retain a lean muscular build no matter what he ate didn't hurt either.

But, the money was very good, even if he had to fight off the occasional stalker, and hide from screaming female fans trying to stuff underwear in his pockets when he went out to buy milk.

His manager Miroku was a total letch, and Sango had been slacking on security - waking up to find a strange woman in his kitchen making coffee in nothing but an apron was more than a little surprising. He actually had more than a sneaking suspicion that something was going on between those two.

But the best part of being a model was Kagome. His photographer, his best friend. He'd known her for years now, and there was no one he trusted more.

Their first photo shoot three years ago had been memorable. He’d accidentally called her Kikyo, and she'd exploded at him. How was he to know? They looked kinda the same, and they were both photographers. It did kinda suck that her cousin Kikyo had possibly ruined her chances of having a serious career in photo journalism, but this gig she was doin’ paid the bills right?

Why did she have to be so serious anyway? He’d abandoned any thoughts of self respect long ago. When you knew what it was like at the very bottom, didn’t know where your next meal was coming from, you understood that self respect was a luxury.

Ah, but Kagome. He couldn't help but love her. Even though this wasn't what she wanted to be doing, she put her whole heart and soul into her work, wanting it to be the best. He knew all her little mannerisms by heart - the way she blew upwards into her fringe when she was feeling frustrated, the way she jiggled her legs under the table when she was feeling fidgety, the way her eyes lit up when she got a good idea for a shot.

He'd always said he'd do anything for her, would gladly take a bullet for her. He'd already blocked a knife attack for her, that had to count for something, right? He'd never been more terrified when she'd been threatened, and the thought of what might had happened if he'd left just a little earlier still broke him out in a cold sweat sometimes.

They'd been closer after her life was threatened, so much closer. He'd been hopeful, but pretty sure she still only saw him as a friend. I mean, how cliche was it for a model to fall for a photographer? He was pretty sure she'd think he was joking, and laugh right in his face. And then on the steps after the trial against that stalker she'd kissed him. And it had been like the heavens had opened and angels had sung.

Kagome had always wanted to be a photo journalist. She'd dreamed of it since high school, starting her career with the local paper, gaining notice when she won a world renowned travel photography competition. That was the chance that should have got her a job with a top magazine, the chance that should have made her career. But it had been stolen by her cousin Kikyo.

Kikyo, who had been her flatmate when they finished high school, so they could share their passion for photography and help support each other in their move to New York as they tried to achieve their dreams. Kikyo, who had taken the message about the year long internship she had been offered after they saw her winning photo. Kikyo, whose features were similar enough to her own that they were often mistaken for each other, if you didn't know both of them that well. Kikyo, who had turned up for that internship and somehow convinced them that she'd used a different name for the competition.

Her cousin had milked that experience for everything it was worth. And now she was the one working for a world renowned magazine, and Kagome was paying rent doing cover photos for romance novels. She may be the best one in her field, but it wasn't quite what she'd dreamed of. It's not like she'd wished upon a star when she was five and asked if she could be the one to discover the next Fabio.

The best thing about her work was spending time with Inuyasha. She'd been so angry at him the first day they'd met all those years ago. Fresh from a weekend at a family event where she'd had to hear once again that Kikyo couldn't make it because she was overseas, doing some big story, and they were all so proud of her. And he'd called her Kikyo, because he'd seen some article recently and mistakenly thought she was her cousin. After she'd calmed down, she couldn't really fault him. They had the same last name, same initial, even looked similar enough.

But he'd grown on her. And it wasn't just his good looks - he had those in abundance, but he didn't really seem to care about that. He was rough around the edges, a little rude, definitely obnoxious, but very funny, charming, brave, and also... kind of sweet?

That day she'd had that terrible cold but had still come to work because they'd had a deadline, he'd given her his jacket and then rushed out to the supermarket at lunch time so he could make her a sure fire cold remedy his mother had taught him. It had tasted absolutely feral, but surprisingly, she'd felt a lot better the next day.

Just a few weeks ago, they had finalised the court case with Inuyasha's stalker. For some reason, Jakotsu, one of Inuyasha's most ardent fans, had bizarrely seen Kagome as a threat, even though it was obvious they were only friends.

At first it was just strange letters delivered to her workplace, which she'd ignored totally. She'd only begun to be worried when weird notes appeared in her own letter box at her apartment. And then the late night phone calls had started.

She'd managed to keep it from Inuyasha until Jakotsu had slashed her tyres, and then he'd been furious. Angry at her for not telling him what was happening, and incandescent with rage at the stalker.

After that he'd been there for her whenever she'd been afraid, so protective and caring. When Jakotsu had snuck up on her late one night in the parking lot, he'd blocked the attack, stepping in front of her in the nick of time, taking a slash to his arm that was originally aimed at her face, then knocking out Jakotsu and holding him until the police arrived.

He'd been the one injured, with nearly 20 stitches in his forearm, but he'd been worried about her. Thank goodness for swift youkai healing. She'd been devastated that he'd been injured, but he'd just shrugged it off, telling her he was glad it was him and not her.

After that, she'd finally admitted to herself that her feelings for him were more than just friendly. Had been for such a long time now. He was gorgeous, but she wasn't the kind of girl that slept around. She needed to be friends first, be comfortable, and there was no one she was more comfortable around than Inuyasha. He was her first thought in the morning and her last at night. But wasn't that a little cliche, a photographer falling for a model? She'd thought he'd probably think she was joking and laugh in her face.

But that moment after the trial and they'd been standing out in the sunlight, she hadn't been able to help herself. She was just so happy, so grateful that he hadn't been injured worse. So she'd practically crash tackled him and kissed him. No tentative pecks. No warning. She couldn't bear to let another day pass without him knowing how she felt. And when he'd kissed her back, with Miroku and Sango cat calling in the background, yelling at them to get a room, it had felt like heaven.

"Where's Yura this morning?" asked Inuyasha, glancing around the make up room, as if she would suddenly appear out of nowhere with her ever present combs and scissors.

"She's called in sick, so you've got me on double duty today. Aren't you lucky?" Kagome teased, poking her tongue out at him.

"So, you gonna model with me too?" he grinned, wrapping his arm around her waist and holding her close to rub his nose softly againt hers. "Who's gonna take the happy snaps?"

"You wish. It's a new model today, Tuva, we haven't met her before. This is for the viking one, so we needed someone with fair hair and pale skin. The photos in her online portfolio are gorgeous. And the agency recommended her, so she should be fine."

Kagome gave him a quick peck on the cheek, laughing at his pouting face, then patted the chair in front of the mirror. "Sit down already will you? I called her earlier to let her know what was going on and she offered to get her own hair and makeup done at the studio there, so now I've just got to do you."

Inuyasha couldn't help the flutter down low in his stomach at her statement, even though he knew she'd meant it innocently enough. She began by brushing his long hair and he closed his eyes, feeling the regular pull of the brush on his scalp, her fingers gently protecting his ears from the rough bristles.

Damn that felt good. If he were a cat he'd be purring, and it took every inch of self control to not let out a deep rumbling growl of pleasure when she ran her hands through his hair, pulling the top back and securing it in a rough pompadour with a ponytail behind his head.

Then her nimble fingers were making small cornrow braids near his temples, adding little leather thongs and silver charms. The gentle tugging of his scalp felt so good. He squirmed in his seat a little, keeping his eyes closed.

"Sorry, am I pulling too hard?"

"Nah, feels so damn good. You're a natural at this. Wanna change careers and become my hairdresser?"

She pretended to think a moment, then giggled.

"Maybe. You're hair is fun to play with. It's much prettier than mine."

He opened his eyes, watching her as her deft fingers twisted his hair together.

"Nope. Untrue. Have you ever seen your hair in the sunlight Kagome? The way it shimmers almost blue? It's beautiful."

Her cheeks pinked, and she glanced at the mirror, her eyes fluttering downwards again when he caught her eyes.

"Stop. You're the one that's the freaking model, Inuyasha. Let me concentrate on this or we'll be behind schedule."

"So Ms. Higurashi can take a compliment about her photography skills but not her person? That's kinda weird don't you think? Especially when you're so pretty."

"Inuuuu..."

"C'mere", he said, tugging on her arm to move her into his lap, ignoring her squawk of protest. "Why can't my pretty girl take a compliment from me, huh?"

"I can! But we're at work right now Inuyasha!"

"Alright, prove it. Look in the mirror and say what I say, and then I'll let you go." She squirmed but he tightened his arm around her waist, pinning him close to her. "Gotta do what I say Higurashi. Gotta keep the talent happy!" She smacked his arm, still trying to wriggle out of his hold, doing her best to hold in her smile, but failing miserably.

"So, how should I keep the talent happy Inuyasha?" she smirked. "You were pretty happy when I left your apartment last night."

He moved his head to rest on her shoulder, looking at her reflection in the mirror.

"Ah, but that's where you're very wrong pretty girl." Kagome's face fell.

"You didn't enjoy last night?"

"Oh I did. Very much", he grinned, bucking his hips underneath her, then kissing a path down the arch of her neck onto her shoulder. "But then you left. And I was in that big empty bed all alone, with no one to keep me company."

"Oh, poor you. You know why I left Inuyasha. You needed to have a good night's sleep before the shoot today, and you know what would have happened if I'd stayed longer. There wouldn't have been much sleeping going on."

He nuzzled into her neck. "Maybe not, but this talent would have been much much happier. I don't want you to leave anymore." Kagome froze.

"You... you want me to move in with you?"

"I want you to move in", he said, his teasing face now serious. "I want you to be with me always. I know we've only been going out for a month Kagome, but I love you. I've loved you for years. And that's not going to change."

She turned on his lap so they were now facing each other, cradling his cheeks in her palms. "I love you too", she whispered. "So much."

"Would it be crazy if... if I said I wanted even more than that?" he asked softly, his eyes searching hers. "Would it be crazy if I said I want to be more than just your boyfriend, that I want more than you moving in. That I want us to belong to each other? And tell the whole world about it?"

Kagome's eyes widened, and her heart began beating wildly in her chest.

"That sounds an awful lot like a marriage proposal Inuyasha."

"That's because, maybe it is. We wasted so much time Kagome. I don't wanna waste another second. Please say yes."

"How could I say no to those puppy dog eyes of yours?" she giggled wetly, her eyes filling with happy tears.

[iamtheblondestblonde]

Last Christmas

AN: Listening to Christmas songs in September is totally normal, right? I was inspired by a couple of songs and I’m procrastinating even though I should really study for some upcoming exams but I had to finish this first. Please enjoy this angsty fluff (is that even a thing?) with one of our favorite Hockey Hunks™.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: There might be a swear word or two and one mention of sex but that’s it

My other writing can be found here

For the first time since the move you finally felt at home and not out of place. To anyone it might only be a regular Wednesday but to you it was more than that. Today marked the day you’d finally managed to clear out the last few boxes, ridding yourself of the only remaining evidence that proved you were alone in a new city, a new country.

You wouldn’t stay alone for long though, your new job was set to start on Monday and you’d always made friends fairly fast so you weren’t worried in the slightest, instead enjoying the quiet that was your apartment for now.

With Christmas less than a month away you’d finally managed to decorate the apartment accordingly and to say you were proud would be an understatement. Picking out a Christmas tree by yourself had been an adult awakening, something you’d always dreamt about. 

When you were younger you had imagined a certain someone with you so you could decorate side by side but that hadn’t been an option in years. Although with the move it could be, but you quickly pushed that thought out of your head.

Locating the box with the decorations - some you’d stolen from home - had taken quite a while but as you held the hand-painted angel that had once belonged to your great-grandmother in your hands all trouble was forgotten. You’d have to climb on a stool or something to get it on top of the tree but for now you carefully set it aside, taking a look at your surroundings instead. 

The string lights made your apartment glow in warm light that only added to the appeal of the city lights shining in through the big windows. The new job had come with a very attractive signing bonus and while the place wasn’t huge, the modern finishes had made you fall in love instantly.

You hadn’t even realized how much time had passed because you’d been so immersed in decorating and cleaning but the sun had long set and your supper had been quite a while ago. The TV was still on from when you’d turned it on for some background noise, not really paying attention but instead focusing on humming along to your Christmas playlist.

You put on some water and quickly changed into a pair of comfortable leggings and your favorite sweatshirt from your time at Dalhousie University so you could spend the rest of your evening cuddled up on the couch with a mug of tea and continue the series you’d started to binge watch a couple of weeks ago. You’d only just pulled the hem of the sweatshirt down your body when you heard your doorbell ring.

Who would show up at your apartment unannounced at this time?

You quickly made your way back into the living space and over to the door so you could check the peep-hole, your heart skipping a beat once you realized who was on the other side of the door. For a second you contemplated simply not opening, but while you were many things in your life, a coward wasn’t one of them. 

You knew he could tell that you were home from the music still playing over the speakers and the lights probably escaping your apartment through the slit below the door so you didn’t hesitate long before unlocking the door with shaky hands and swinging it open.

Seeing him again, leaning against the wall opposite your apartment door, was like someone had thrown a bucket of ice cold water at your face. As soon as he realized that you’d actually opened the door he practically jumped from his spot and took two big steps until he was standing a lot closer to you. 

You looked up at him, really looked up at him and with him standing there, looking so much like the Pierre you knew but so differently at the same time you felt yourself being catapulted to the day that changed your life all these years ago.

NHL Entry Draft Day back in 2016.

You weren’t religious by any means and you only ever went to church on Christmas out of a feeling of obligation towards your parents but God had you prayed for Pierre to stay close to you. It hadn’t been fair to him, you were well aware of that but for one day you allowed yourself to be selfish. You knew that he was living his dream, finally getting to play in the NHL like he’d always said he would but you were also thinking about your dreams. Dreams that involved him by your side.

Perhaps you were to blame for this mess. It was you who had fallen for the funny hockey player almost two years ago after all, knowing full well that he had big dreams that didn’t really mesh well with yours to go to university in Halifax, a place your family had gone to for ages.

You’d secretly hoped that perhaps Ottawa or Montreal would select him, even if he deserved to be picked long before it was their turn. But at least he’d be at least somewhat close to you then. When he’d been picked third by Columbus you’d been so shocked that you barely remembered kissing him on live television. You’d watched him get on that stage and put on the jersey but instead of crying happy tears at the sight of his dream coming true, you were crying because you knew that this was most likely the beginning of the end of your relationship. 

There’d be well over 2.000 kilometers between the two of you sometime soon and although you’d prepared yourself for this for weeks it still hurt more than you could ever imagine. But you still smiled at him all these hours later when you finally got to see him again, telling him how incredibly proud you were.

You tried your best to enjoy that summer, knowing full well that it might be your last one with him. With fall approaching he helped you move your stuff to Halifax while preparing for his own departure to Columbus. 

A departure that didn’t come though, because he hadn’t made the roster for the 2016-2017 season and had instead been sent back to play in Sydney, something that had devastated him.

To say that it was hard would put it mildly. You were over four hours away from him and your home and with your new life picking up keeping in touch kept getting more and more difficult. With his travels for the team and your classes you barely saw each other, a series of missed calls and late responses really the only thing that connected you to him. Christmas was the first time you’d seen him in three weeks but you still made the best of it, spending time with him every day and for a little while things were like they used to be.

When he told you that he’d been traded to Boisbriand afterwards you knew that this was it. Pierre had known as well, the defeated look in his eyes mirroring your own and giving him away. 

So you’d said your goodbyes, wanting to end things on a good note instead of going through another string of ‘Sorry I couldn’t pick up the phone earlier but call me back when you get this’ and constantly feeling left out. You’d cried, as did Pierre when you hugged him one last time, him desperately wiping your tears away and pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before leaving.

He’d ruined hockey for you then, the sport you once loved and spent so much time watching. No more time spent at the rink cuddled under your blanket and gossiping with the other girlfriends but you didn’t miss it as much as you missed him. 

You couldn’t even bear to watch him on TV so you’d missed when he scored his first NHL goal during his very first game in the league and all the other ones that followed. It was only when the Blue Jackets had their playoff run earlier this year that you’d finally managed to look at his face on your screen, over two years after you’d last seen him in person.

But now he was here, standing in front of you again.

“I-“, he began before stopping himself, rubbing his hand over his face before dropping it back down to his side and continuing, “I’m sorry for just barging in like this but my mom told me you moved here and I didn’t see it until after the game but I just had to come see for myself. Apparently our families still talk..”

You finally allowed yourself to properly looking at him, trailing your eyes over the features that were once so familiar. He’d grown a bit since you’d last seen him, not just in height but he was also a lot bulkier and more muscular than he used to be, filling out the suit jacket that sat snugly around his shoulders. He must have come straight from the game, hair still a bit wet and curlier than ever, a black pea coat folded over his arm and a duffel bag slung around his torso. You felt a bit out of place in your comfortable clothes compared to his suit that was probably designer but then you scolded yourself because this was Pierre and he’d seen you a lot worse.

“Yeah I know. I ran into your mom this summer when she was in our kitchen for a wine night they apparently have regularly.” You didn’t tell him how hard it had been to not ask about how he was doing and instead make bland small talk before you could finally disappear to your old room.

How could your parents not be friends anymore after your mothers had once joked about wanting a wine bar exclusively for them at your wedding? You didn’t blame your mom for telling his mother either, you knew that she only had good intentions and she’d always wanted the two of you to get back together.

In fact you weren’t completely innocent in the situation either. It was you who had applied for a position in Columbus after graduating this year after all, thoughts of what could be in the back of your mind even if you were adamant about denying it.

“You look good Y/N. I didn’t think it was possible but you’re somehow even more beautiful than you were the last time I saw you.”

You were about to remind him that the last time he’d seen you your eyes had been all red and puffy from crying – which was anything but beautiful – but before you could even get one word out the vintage kettle you had put on the stove to make tea let out its loud screeching noise, indicating that the water was done. You weren’t about to be rude and just Leave Pierre in the hallway just like that so without a second thought you invited him inside before turning around to take the kettle off the stove.

“Do you want some tea as well?”, you asked on a whim, not really knowing what else to do with the stranger that wasn’t really a stranger standing in the middle of your living room. He’d taken his shoes off by the door, apparently still remembering how you much you hated it when people wore shoes indoors and you watched him carefully drape his coat over the back of a chair.

“Sure, thanks.”

You took out a second mug and carefully poured the tea over the tea bags, the scent soon filling the apartment. It was the same tea you always drank during the winter months, ever since you were a little kid. Pierre grabbed the second mug off the counter from next to you and quickly took a peak at the label before giving you a knowing smile. You’d made that tea for the both of you so many times that this felt almost normal, even if your current situation was anything but.

“I’m sorry that you guys lost tonight”, you said to fill the silence that was now falling over the apartment. He looked over with a surprised look, raising his eyebrows.

“You watched the game?”

“Not all of it. I was busy decorating and doing other stuff around the apartment but I turned it on and checked the score from time to time”, you admitted sheepishly, raising the mug to your face in pretense of blowing to battle the boiling hot water but actually hiding away from his attentive stare. He’d looked at you all kinds of ways over your years with him but you had never been nervous because of it, except for that one night with him where he’d seen you naked for the first time and you’d lost your virginities to each other.

Thinking about sex with him wasn’t helping your cause either though because while the first few times had been a little awkward but still fun, the two of you quickly improved and the images of him above you or his head between your legs were only turning your cheeks even more red.

He seemed to drop the subject, thankfully, and instead moved over towards the Christmas tree, admiring your work. You slowly followed him, mug closely clutched to your chest and sat down on the sofa, admiring the way he looked in your apartment instead. The time apart had treated him well and while it was a bit weird to see him with a beard outside of playoffs there was no denying that he looked better than ever.

“I see you still like to live in an environment that resembles hell temperature wise”, he chuckled before he put down his own mug on the couch table and shrugged off his suit jacket. You tried your best not to stare as he popped open the first two bottoms of his shirt before moving on to roll up his sleeves while sitting down a respectable distance away but you were unsuccessful. For the first time you saw his tattoos, as his skin had been innocent and bare up until your breakup but you couldn’t ignore how good he looked with them. Your hands were itching to trace the patterns and because you didn’t entirely trust yourself to be able to control yourself you sat on them to avoid any embarrassment.

You hadn’t even realized that your Christmas playlist had continued playing over the speakers until the familiar opening tunes of “Last Christmas” filled the apartment. You quickly jumped up, reaching for your phone so you could stop the music from playing. It reminded you too much of the last Christmas you’d had with Pierre, now almost three years ago. You’d given him your heart and while he hadn’t exactly given it away he’d still broken it when he’d left.

When you turned back around you noticed the slight blush that painted his cheeks, he’d apparently come to the same realization as you. For a moment the silence was uncomfortable and you were reminded of the time right before the breakup when you didn’t know what to say or do around him, always walking on eggshells for fear of losing him. You’d lost him either way but that was beside the point.

Pierre cleared his throat before speaking up, ripping you out of your spiraling thoughts.

“Y/N I- I have to ask. Why are you here?”

You knew that you should just be honest and tell him that you were in a way here because of him but you weren’t ready to take that kind of leap just yet. You hadn’t kept up with his personal life for fear of finding something you couldn’t bear and for all you knew he could have a girlfriend right now.

“Well why are you?”, you simply responded instead, leaning back on the couch so you could properly gauge his reaction. You weren’t the one who had knocked on his door late at night.

“Fair enough, I guess”, he huffed before running his hand over his face in the way that had once been so familiar to you.

“When I read that text from my mom, telling me that you lived in Columbus now – that you weren’t thousands of kilometers away anymore I just had to see you. I called my mom to ask if she had your address and you have no idea how smug she sounded when she said she’d text it to me.”

You chuckled at his exasperated expression, knowing full well how his mother could be but stayed quiet to let him continue.

“The team knows about you as well and if I even told you half the shit I had to listen to when I practically sprinted out of the locker room you wouldn’t believe me.”

This made you laugh out loud and when you saw him smile at you fondly your heart skipped a beat for the second time that night.

“What I’m actually trying to say – but failing miserably at – is that I never really got over you and seeing you know only confirmed that. I can’t believe I let you go all these years ago, I was an idiot for thinking I could do it without you because I was absolutely miserable after leaving you”, he finished and you hadn’t even realized that you’d started crying until he reached up to gently wipe your tears away.

“Look I know that we can’t just continue like nothing happened but please bébé, please give me a second chance. I won’t leave you again, I promise.” The fact that he’d used the pet name he’d given you when you first started dating was all it took for you to leap towards him. He wrapped his arms around you as well, creating that perfect cocoon of Pierre that you’d missed so much. When he kissed your forehead this time you couldn’t feel your heart breaking, instead the warmth that flooded your body only glued all those pieces back together.

You knew that there was still a chance that he’d get traded again and that because of his job he’d have to spend quite some time on the road but you’d been miserable after he’d left as well. At least this time you’d know that he’d always come back for you.

“I’m so glad that our mothers love their wine nights and gossip, otherwise you never would’ve knocked at my door and I never would’ve gotten you back.”

“So we’re really doing this? We’re trying again?”, he asked, pulling you back at arm’s length so he could properly take a look at you. You nodded, not being able to stop the big smile spreading on your face.

“Would it be completely out of place if I kissed you right now?”

“Not at all”, you responded before crawling closer towards him until you straddled his lap. His hands reached up to cup your face, thumbs wiping the last of your tears away – happy tears this time – and then he finally pulled you in for a kiss.

Nothing felt more like coming home than kissing Pierre.

The way his lips moved against yours was so familiar that you couldn’t help but sigh into the kiss, reaching up for his shoulders so you could ground yourself in him while simultaneously getting lost in the way his body felt against yours. He buried his hands in your hair and his beard was scratching your skin but you didn’t care, instead letting him pull you closer and deepening the kiss until the only thought you could form was IloveyouIloveyouIloveyoustill.

Eventually you had to pull away though, both of you panting at the lack of air and the closeness of your bodies. It had been so long since you’d last felt his breath fan across your face like this, seen the look in his eyes as he looked at you with absolute wonder but it was as if nothing had changed, the two of you easily picking up where you left off.

“You know that our moms are gonna take credit for that, right? We’re never gonna hear the end of it”, he suddenly groaned and you giggled at his exasperated tone.

“I can live with that as long as it means that I get to have you with me again.”

He pulled you in for another sweet kiss before letting you go again, smiling up at you. You watched his gaze shift to something behind you, twisting your body in his lap so you could see what had caught his attention.

“Is that the Y/L/N Christmas angel? Did you steal it?” He stood up with you still in his lap, slowly putting you down before walking over to where you’d set the decoration earlier.

“It is but I didn’t steal it. Mom gave it to me so I’d have a piece of home with me. I’m not tall enough to put it on the top though and I haven’t gotten around to finding something to climb yet.”

“Need some help with putting it up? Here’s another piece of home ready to be climbed”, Pierre said, extending his arms to the sides and taking a step backwards so he was standing by the tree, angel still in one hand. You shook your head at him while laughing but you still moved closer, ready to climb him like a tree like you’d done hundreds of times before.

Still laughing you jumped on his back and he handed you the angel before wrapping his arms around your legs to support you. With combined forces you were able to complete the tree and Pierre let you down so you could both properly admire your work. 

Your dream had come true after all. 

You felt him move away from you before he was standing right behind you again, the famous tune of Wham! playing again over the speakers. He wrapped his arms around you from behind and you placed your hands on his forearms, slowly tracing your fingers over the black ink under his skin.

“You’re mon ange Y/N, you know that right? My angel. My someone special.”

Standing on your tippy toes you placed a soft kiss on his jaw before leaning your head back against him, not really knowing how to put your feelings in words right now but you knew he understood by the way he squeezed you tightly, resting his head on top of yours.

This year you’d given your heart to someone truly special.. again.

Feedback is always appreciated 🥰🥰

[hopelikethemoon]

To Feel (Javier x Reader) {MTMF} [smut]

Title: To Feel Rating: Explicit  Length: 3200 Warnings: Mild Angst and Smut (Hurt/Comfort Sex, Rough Sex, Hairpulling) Notes: You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. Set in November 1993. This is honestly not the strongest chapter, but here it is. Reader’s emotions were hard to capture, I feel. But...  Summary: Reader realizes that it was only inevitable.  

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Javier knocked his fingers against your desk, getting your attention. You glanced up from the file you were reading, a faint smile playing over your lips as you met his gaze. “They’ve got me driving over to Champinero.” 

“Okay.” You said with a nod, smiling a little at him. “Do you think you’ll be late?”

He shook his head and glanced around the office. Chris and Daniel were both on assignment. The place was a ghost town. “Director Bonnor is here.” Well, that explained why he wasn’t returning your smile. 

A chill ran down your spine. Shit. You had known this day would eventually come, but… You had thought you could hold on just a little longer. They had already iced you out of most of the Cali Cartel investigation — it stung, but you had taken it all in stride. 

“Great.” You dragged your fingers through your hair, tossing the file back on your desk. “I guess I should clean my desk out?”

Javier moved around your desk, placing his hands on your shoulders as he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your head. “I wish I could be in there with you.”

“Maybe it’s not…” You trailed off because you knew the answer. Director Bonnor didn’t just come to Colombia — in fact, the man hated coming down to the embassy. If he was there… and they intentionally planned for everyone to be out of the office — you knew what was going to happen. 

He squeezed your shoulders three short times, before he leaned down and whispered into your ear, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Your voice wavered and you inhaled deeply to gather yourself. All of your dreams, your plans, your expectations were slipping out of your grasp.

But you had Josie, you had Javi. They were enough, weren’t they?

“You should go before you get in trouble too.” You warned him, shrugging his hands off your shoulders. 

“Baby—“

“I’ve got it, Javi. I can handle this.” You rubbed at your cheeks as you propped your elbows up on your desk. 

“I’ll see you at home.” Javier rubbed your back before he headed for his own desk. He glanced back at you, smiling sadly. “You’ve got this, baby.”

You looked around the office slowly. There were so many memories that had been made in this dingy little room. You could still hear the echo of the laughter you shared with Javier and Steve. 

How nervous you were on your first day. 

Looking across the room at Javier as he packed up the files he needed for his assignment, you realized that he’d always been a little more than just a partner. 

You still remembered the quiet anxiety of sitting four feet from the man who had fathered your child and not knowing how he would handle that news. 

You stared at the photo you had framed on your desk. It was three of you — Javier and Steve — sitting on the back of a pick-up truck. You had your arms wrapped around their shoulders, but your head was resting on Javier’s shoulder. 

He had always been the one. 

You just hoped he’d remain the one, because you had single-handedly self-destructed your entire career for him. 

Steve had been right — if you had wanted a career in the DEA you should’ve stayed clear of Javier Peña. But you hadn’t.  And you weren’t sorry for it. 

 ——

 Javier was quiet when he arrived home. You were in the kitchen, working on dinner — and the cactus that had sat on your desk since 1987 was sat in the center of the kitchen table. 

He didn’t say a word about it. He didn’t mention his assignment, your dismissal, the DEA. But admittedly, neither did you. Instead, he talked about his father, how much you’d like Laredo. 

There was a wedding next month in Texas — his cousin. It was the first time Javier had ever invited you to anything. It would mark a change… for both of you. It would be the first time you would be out and about as a couple. Which was still surreal. 

Javier wanted out of the DEA and now that you weren’t employed by them, you’d have to leave soon. You had two weeks before your visa expired. It still hadn’t officially sunk in. That life in Colombia was over. 

Josie was fighting the urge to sleep. She’d been a terror after dinner. “Come on, sweetheart.” You urged gently as you settled her in your arms, relaxing back onto the sofa. “You’ve got to sleep.” 

“She giving you trouble?” Javier questioned as he settled down onto the sofa beside you with a beer. He took a drink, tilting his head to look at you.

“When is she not?” You laughed a little, pulling your shirt up to reveal your breast, hoping that nursing might put her at ease. Josie was quick to latch on, never one to turn down milk. “I got the paperwork today,” You told him casually.

“Paperwork for what?” He questioned.

“To correct her birth certificate. I want to do that before we leave.” You looked down at Josie, brushing your fingers over her soft curls. 

Javier nodded slowly, propping his foot on the edge. He raked his fingers through his hair, sighing heavily. “I’m probably going to do it tomorrow.”

Quit. He didn’t have to say it. You knew exactly what he planned to do. 

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you. Javier drank his beer, watching as you fed Josie. She fussed a few more times, but eventually started to give in to the lure of sleep. Finally. 

“You’re not going to resent us, are you?” You questioned as you tucked your breast away, cradling her against your chest and burping her gently. 

“Why would I?” Javier reached over and played his fingers through your hair before pressing a quick kiss to your temple and then the top of Josie’s head. “Let me put her down for you.” 

You let him take her, watching him walk down the hallway to the nursery. So many memories had been made in this apartment. Once upon a time, it had just been a place you slept, but now… it was your home. The thought of leaving it all behind made your heart feel like it was going to break right out of your chest. 

You had come to Colombia with so many hopes and plans… none of which had come to fruition. But you had found something better… Even if it stung. 

It fucking sucked. 

Maybe you should’ve been more concerned with your own resentment. 

You leaned forward and grabbed Javier’s beer, taking a drink of it. You could hear him down the hallway singing Josie to sleep. He was such a good father. A good partner. A good man. 

Would your relationship survive a move back to the states? Not so long ago you had feared the mere idea of going stateside. Colombia might’ve been the spell that bound you together. In Texas… in Florida — wherever you ended up, it might not be enough. 

Javier was Javier after all. You had worked beside him long enough to know who he was. 

“Did you steal my beer?” Javier questioned as he rejoined you on the sofa. 

You blinked and shook your head, pulling yourself from your thoughts. “There’s more in the fridge.” You quipped, summoning a faint smirk as you took another sip, finishing it off. 

He scooted closer to you, draping his arm around your shoulders. “You okay, baby?” He questioned, rubbing his hand over your arm.

“It’s been a day.” You offered a little numbly, settling into his side. “There’s so much I have to do before we leave.” You rested your cheek against his shoulder. “I wonder how Josie will handle the flight.” 

Javier squeezed your arm, rubbing his thumb over your skin. “We should book the flights tomorrow.” He turned and kissed the top of your head. “San Antonio is the closest airport to Laredo.”

You nodded your head slowly, staring straight ahead as the words slipped past your lips. “I wanted to be the one to quit.” 

The fact that you had been dismissed was a tough pill to swallow. And Director Bonnor had been so nice about it. He had actually seemed regretful that the decision had come down to that. He’d only been in the position for three years. He was probably one of the good ones, but you’d never know now.

“I know, baby.” 

You swallowed thickly as you peeled yourself out of his grasp, rising from the sofa. “Today feels like a really bad dream.” You admitted, keeping your back to Javier for a long moment before you turned and looked down at him.

Javier stood slowly, his eyes flickering over your face. “What do you need?” He questioned, reaching out to trace his fingertips over your cheekbone, dragging them along the curve of your jaw. 

You tilted your chin up and met his eyes, “To forget.”

“I can do that.” He said lowly, his gaze dropping to your lips. They parted, drawing in a shaky breath as he leaned down and bridged the distance. 

Your fingers curled around the back of his neck, clinging to him as you kissed him back with a greedy desperation. You just wanted to get lost in this — in how he made you feel. Losing your job felt like a devastating blow, the loss of years of hard work and determination. 

But you had this. You had him. 

Javier’s hands trailed down your spine, moving down to grasp at your ass and pull you closer. You moaned against his mouth, your tongue sweeping out to find his. 

You could feel him, his cock hardening against your leg. 

Hasty fingers started working at the buttons of his shirt, pushing them through the holes, before practically tearing the last button off to get it out of his pants. 

“Baby,” He breathed out as he pulled back, eyes searching your face as you looked up at him. “Out here or bedroom?”

You dragged your teeth over your bottom lip, considering his question. “I don’t care.”

“Hey, hey.” Javier whispered as he pushed your hair back, tucking it behind your ears as he snaked an arm around your waist. “Are you okay?” He questioned, holding your gaze.

“I—.” You swallowed thickly as you stared back. “I just need…” You scraped your fingers through his hair as you leaned in close, brushing your nose against his. “Javi, I want you to fuck me.”

He hesitated for just the briefest second. You were prepared to beg him to give you what you wanted, but it wasn’t necessary. 

This was easier than admitting how you felt. How fucking pathetic it felt to sit there in front of the director’s desk and get told why you were being “dismissed”. It wasn’t even fired — not really. You were just no longer needed in Colombia. Or the states. 

You weren’t needed in the DEA period… all because you’d fucked Javier Peña and lied about it. 

And they couldn’t just reassign you. What if you did the same thing at your next assignment? Oh, the fucking humanity. They could turn a blind eye on Javier fucking informants on the bankroll, but you? You make one fucking mistake…

Javier’s mouth crashed into yours, lips hungrily slanting over yours. You raked your nails down the back of his neck, down his back — leaving your mark. 

His hands made desperate attempts to rid you of your clothes. Forcing your pajama bottoms down your hips, pushing your underwear down with them. 

You moaned, your tongue tangling with his as you kissed him like your life depended upon it. And maybe it did. Maybe all you needed to survive was the reminder of what the two of you shared. 

Javier pulled back from the kiss, breathing raggedly as he met your gaze. “Is this what you want, baby?”

“Don’t be gentle, Javi.” You told him, catching his bottom lip between your teeth and tugging at it lightly. “Please.”

He nodded slowly, brushing a tender kiss to your forehead just as his fingers caught your hair and grasped at the back of your head. 

“You have to be quiet for me.” Javier told you, his breath hot against your lips. “Can you do that?”

You tried to nod, but his hold on your hair was too tight. “Yes.”

“Good girl.” He breathed out as his hand slipped down between your thighs. You felt like you should’ve been ashamed by how swiftly he’d managed to wind you up. He slid his fingers between your folds, all the while keeping a firm grip on your hair.

“Javi.” You breathed out as he circled your clit for the briefest second, before he abandoned you. 

“Shh, baby.” He whispered, brushing his lips over yours as he delivered a swift swat to your inner thigh. 

You canted your hips forward, moaning softly. “Please.”

“Please what?” He smirked at you, his fingers ghosting over your cunt then. “Use your words.”

“You can’t tell me to hush and then make me tell you to fuck me, Javier.” He bit out, mirroring his cocky smirk with your own. You reached downwards, grabbing him through his jeans. “Am I going to have to do all the work?”

He caught your wrist with a vice-like grip. “Turn around.”

Something hot spiked through you. The tone of his voice coupled with the lust in his eyes nearly did you in. “Thank you.” You whispered, leaning up to steal a kiss despite yourself. 

You knelt forward on the edge of the sofa, hands grasping at the back of it for support. 

“You’re so goddamn beautiful,” Javier told you, playing his fingers through your hair and gripping at it once more. 

A moan slipped past your lips as you listened to the rustle of his jeans being pushed down his hips. He paused, rubbing at your hip before giving it a playful swat. “Are you going to be nice and quiet for me?”

You nodded your head, biting down on your bottom lip. 

“Look at you.” Javier mused, fingers finding their way to your aching center, teasing you lightly before he pressed two fingers into you. “You’re so fucking wet, baby.”

“Yes.” You breathed out as he started sliding his fingers in and out of you. It felt like heaven to feel something. To feel lust and desire and love. 

“Fucking perfect.” He whispered, dragging his fingers out of you. Before you had a chance to complain about the loss of contact, Javier slammed the full length of his cock into you.

Your head fell forward and you grunted out his name or something close to it. You clenched around him. 

God, it felt good. 

Javier’s fingers gripped tightly at your hair, drawing you back as he held at your hip for support. “I’m not going to go easy on you, baby. Can you handle that?”

“Yes.” You promised him. 

He pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, “Tell me if it’s too much.” Javier whispered close to your ear — it was so hard to focus on anything other than the length of his cock buried within you. 

“I trust you.” You reached back with one hand to play with his hair. “Please.”

Javier’s grip tightened in your hair, just this side of pleasure and pain. Coupled with the way he slammed into you, filling you fully before retreating — it helped. You had something to focus on other than leaving Colombia. 

You had the slide of his cock to focus on. The grip of his hand at your hip, the burn of his fingers in your hair. You just wanted to sink into that sensation and forget everything else. 

“Javi.” You breathed out, reaching for the sofa cushions, knuckles going white with how tight you gripped them. The angle was fucking perfect. “Fuck.” You hissed, rolling your hips backwards into every thrust. 

His hand slipped from your hip, moving between your thighs. He teased you, circling that little bundle of nerves as he slid into you again and again. You couldn’t hold back, you couldn’t fight it. Your back bowed as you ground back against him, your inner walls clenching around him as your release washed through you. 

Javier pulled you up by your hair, curling his arm around your middle to keep you pressed against him. “That’s it baby.” He rasped out, kissing at the crook of your neck. He groaned out your name, his own release taking hold. He bucked his hips into you, his cock spilling within you. 

Fuck. It felt so good to just… forget for a minute. 

You sank back against him, unable to do much else as you basked in the afterglow of your release. Javier maneuvered both of you down onto the sofa. 

You let out a soft sound of protest as he slipped from you. He pulled you into his lap and you rested your cheek against his shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Don’t.” He shook his head, running his hand along the length of your side as he pulled you in close to him. 

You tilted your head and kissed his cheek, nuzzling your nose against the soft scruff that had grown there after a long day. “I needed that.”

“You can be upset, baby. I’m not gonna blame you for being pissed at the DE—“

You reached up and pressed your palm to his mouth. “I don’t want to talk about it.” You brushed your thumb over his bottom lip. 

Javier nodded slowly, reaching behind him to grab the throw off the back of the sofa. He pulled it down and draped it around your bare legs and his own. “I love you.” He whispered, and you still couldn’t get over how freely he said those three little words. 

“I love you too.” You smiled at him, cupping his cheek as you leaned in to kiss him. 

And you did… you had for a long time. You loved him that first night, the one that changed everything. How different things would’ve been if you had trusted that little flicker of hope — that the way he held you wasn’t just for show. He still held you that way. 

He was holding you like that right there on the sofa. 

If you hadn’t lied. If you hadn’t been ashamed of yourself, things might’ve been different. You had no idea what Miami would become. If there even was a future there for you as a family. 

“Javi,” You started quietly, pulling back enough to meet his eyes. You brushed your fingers over his cheek, trailing them upwards to play through his hair. 

“What is it, baby?” He questioned, brows furrowed as he leaned into your touch. 

You shook your head slowly, “It’s a conversation for another day.” You whispered, leaning in to brush your lips over his. “Just hold me right now.” 

How could you express the ache you felt? The deep-seated fear that you had destroyed your career for a man who might very well leave you brokenhearted. He was so involved. And that was what terrified you… that he might leave a hole in your life that couldn’t be mended. Because you no longer loved him cautiously, you loved him with everything you had to give. 

But you couldn’t really dwell on that fear. You had to think about Josie and what was best for her. What was best for your family.

[ficklefics]

Prisoners - Jervis Tetch x Reader

Friends in Arkham mean trouble. But trouble can be fun.

MASTERLIST 

Requested by @shortandverynerdy​ - hope I’ve done your idea justice!

Warnings: Violence, attempted eye gouging, intense violence, rhyming

Good ol’ Arkham Asylum. Home sweet home to you. Just without the “home”, or the “sweet”. You’d been here three months now, but today was your first day out of solitary. Well, technically you’d been in with the General Population for a week when you arrived, but the director didn’t take kindly to you trying to gouge out the eyes of your fellow inmates. They didn’t seem to agree that it was a sufficient punishment for them staring at you. Creeps.

Now here you were, back in relative freedom, standing at the gates to hell. Or the common room. Same thing. All eyes were on you as you took your time walking around the periphery of the room to sit at an empty table. When you looked around you caught sight of everyone pointedly looking away from you; it would seem you had a reputation. You smiled to yourself, tracing the surface of the table with a finger, drawing meaningless patterns. You were happy like that, unthinking, uncaring, just drawing until you felt some disturbance. Eyes. On you. You looked up and immediately found the culprit. A strange man with a top hat made from newspapers. Now, Arkham was filled with weirdos and crazies, but for some reason, he stood out. There was just something about him. You narrowed your eyes, daring him to come over and speak to you. And he did. Standing up and weaving his way through the tables to sit across from you. “What?” He had about thirty seconds before you lost interest. You hoped he would use them wisely. “Who is this face that I now see? This person appears new to me.” Rhyming. Fucking rhyming. Not the strangest thing but it would definitely infuriate you sooner rather than later. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N). Not so much new as hidden away for a while. But I’m back.” You saw no reason to end the conversation yet. Fear is all well and good, but having no one to talk to would get old soon, and he was better than nothing. “And you are?” “Jervis Tetch is my name. And may I enquire, what is your game?” “Look, is the rhyming permanent?” You had to know now before you got any deeper into this. He leaned back, looking slightly dismayed. “Not at all. I just enjoy it.” You smiled a little, and he copied you – when he wasn’t rhyming, he could almost be charming. Now that you could focus on him more, you looked him over. He had dark hair that hung in waves to his shoulders and a slight goatee. And his eyes… Just brown, simple, boring brown, but there was something about them, an intensity, a chaos, that drew you in. “Somehow not the weirdest quirk in here,” You sighed, leaning onto the table and looking away for a brief second, not wanting to lose your awareness of who was around you. When you looked back he was an inch from your face. You jumped away and he laughed, a joyous laugh that was somehow infectious despite the fact that it was aimed at you. “Look, rules here: don’t bother asking me about my past – I don’t wanna talk about it. And I’ll do the same with you. We’re all just crazies in here, the specifics don’t matter. And if we’re friends, we help each other? Alright?” He nods, smiling unabashedly at you. “Alright. Now, I’m tired, so shush.” You picked up a newspaper that had been left on the table and started to read. Meanwhile, Jervis just kept watching.

*

It was late – maybe one in the morning, but you couldn’t be sure. Regardless, the asylum was deadly silent. Quiet enough for the clicking of the lock in your cell door to sound deafening. It seemed to echo around the cell, though logically you knew it was barely audible. The creak of hinges was even worse as you slipped through the door. You were going stir-crazy in there; a walk would help. Distract you from the constant turning of your brain. The floor was cold under your bare feet as you padded silently past the countless rows of cells, through the empty corridors. Not a guard in sight.

It wasn’t long before you heard yelling. Not an unusual occurrence in Arkham, but this wasn’t the ordinary mindless screams of the insane; rather it was shouting. Four voices – all men. Always the men causing trouble. Not to generalise or anything.

You followed the sounds, curious. They lead you to a dead-end where your new friend Jervis was crouched on the floor in front of three men – you recognised their faces, but couldn’t find any names. Jervis’s face and hands were bloody, bruised, battered. Time to join in the fun. “Heya boys!” You called out, drawing their attention. Jervis giggled in glee at the sight of you. He didn’t seem to notice how injured he was. Or maybe he just didn’t care. “I really hope you have a good reason for this. Cause otherwise I might have to actually do something about it, and that would be a lot of effort.” “Try worrying about yourself, (Y/L/N). Don’t want you getting in any more trouble,” The tallest of the men spat at you. “How nice of you to be concerned about my wellbeing,” You mocked, “And how nice to know my reputation still stands.” “You know what would be nice?” This was said by a squirrelly man who was wringing his hands. “If you would back off and mind your own business.” You sighed, resting a hand on your hip and watching the group with your head tilted. You could feel Jervis watching you. “You see, boys, I really can’t do that. Cause that’s my friend you’ve got there.” “Him? Your friend?” The tall man laughed, the sound bouncing off the walls. “Looks like solitary made you soft, (Y/L/N).”

That was the last straw. You chuckled, smiling sweetly, and taking a few gentle steps towards. “I suppose it might have. But I think the more likely option is,” You stopped in front of him and raised yourself on the tips of your toes to whisper in his ear, “It just pissed me off.”

You let the shiv hidden inside your sleeve slide out and slashed it across his throat. A clean, sharp cut. He didn’t even have time to scream, barely gurgling as blood flowed from his neck and lips, as he choked on his own life force. The other two jumped forward, not smart enough or sane enough to run. You got one in the side with the tiny blade but the other grabbed your arms. You hoped Jervis had gotten out of the way. His grip was tight on you, the pain making your hand open. When he realised the blade was gone he let go and moved to grab your throat. You took the opportunity to wrench yourself away, kicking his legs out from under him. You straddled his waist and grabbed his head. The terror on his face gave him away. You used all your strength to force his skull into the cold concrete again and again, spraying your face with blood and gore until he was dead. You could hear whimpering. The second guy, the one who you had spent the least time on, was clinging his side, clothes stained with blood, and struggling to crawl away one-handed. You tutted at him. It was easy to stand, cross to his side, picking your knife up on the way, and finish off the job. Surveying the scene, the three dead, you sighed at the mess. Poor cleaners. “Jervis?” You called into the sudden silence. “I’m right here.” You turned and found him leaning against the wall, grinning again. “Seems to have been quite a bit of trouble, my dear.” “Not sure that counts as a rhyme,” You chuckled. He shrugged almost guiltily. “I tried.” He came closer to you, eyes tracing your body. You followed his gaze and smirked at the blood staining the white and black uniform. “We seem to make quite the team. Maybe, almost, a dream?” “Please stop rhyming.” You turned to leave, not wanting to get caught when the guards inevitably started doing their jobs, and Jervis followed. “And sure, if “team” means people beat you up and then I kill them.” “A good point. But I’m sure we could be rather devastating together.” You looked at him, looked at his excited smile. “We’ll see.”

MASTERLIST

[bucky-at-bedtime]

Right Under My Nose | 6

An Awkward Arrival 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Background Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff)

Summary: When you lie to your mum about having a date to your brother’s wedding, things spiral swiftly and ridiculously. Suddenly, your thrust into fake-dating your best friend, and everything begins to change.

Warnings: fluff, cliches, it’s still a little angsty lmao

A/n: soz that it’s been a month, soz that this chapter isn’t my best, I hope you love it anyway! I’ve had a part of this written since the day I planned this fic so I hope it’s as good as I thought it was 

Chapter 5| Series Masterlist | Full Masterlist

The resort is buzzing with anticipation and excitement – guests from far and wide have been waiting to see Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff tie the knot, and today was finally the day.

The sun hangs low in the sky when a gentle alarm fills their room, and Nat hums quietly before rolling over towards Steve. She throws a leg over his, stretches her arm across his chest so her fingers rest delicately on his bare collarbone and sighs happily.

“Where were you last night?” she mumbles groggily, gently tracing her fingers across the soft skin. “You didn’t get into bed until like 1am.”

“Damage control,” Steve grumbles, eyes still closed, “my sister and Barnes.”

Nat’s eyebrows scrunch together, “what happened? Last I heard she was going to tell him.”

Steve sighs, pries his eyes open and looks down at his fiancée, worry clear in his eyes. “She’s thinking about moving to San Francisco.”

“What?” Nat’s fingers stopped in their tracks, eyes wide as she looked up at Steve. That can’t be possible – she would know if her best friend was planning on leaving the city. “She wants to leave New York?”

“She was upset.” Steve shrugs, rough fingers finding their way to slender ones and twisting them together on his chest. “Said somethin’ about ‘needing space’ – already had a job lined up.”

Nat shook her head slightly, frown still evident on her face. “A job? Why wouldn’t she tell us?”

“Well, I don’t think she was gonna go,” Steve’s voice is calm as he explains, but Nat’s watching his face and she knows when he’s upset. He hides it well. Sure, Nat would be upset if you left, but Steve would be devastated. “it’s not a huge promotion or anything, just an... escape, I guess.”

Nat untangles herself from Steve, sits up and reaches down beside the bed for a hoodie. Her face hardens, and Steve watches as she turns completely serious – investigation mode, she’s on a mission to fix this now. “What made her upset?”

“She heard Buck tellin’ me that he doesn’t like her,” Steve mumbles with a sigh, rubbing his face and leaning up on his elbows. “He said he just ‘got caught up’ in the act. He’s in denial and I don’t know how to get him to admit it.”

Nat was away from Steve in an instant, up and out of the bed, pulling on some sweatpants with a determination in her steely eyes. Steve groaned as if he didn’t already know this was going to happen.

“What’re you doing, Nat? We’re getting married in less than 6 hours.”

“And kicking some sense into Barnes will only take 5 minutes,” she huffed, words muffled through the hoodie she was already pulling over her head.

“Please don’t beat up my best man.”

“I won’t.” she leans down and pulls on some sneakers before adding, “Physically.”

“Great.” Steve chuckles lightly, falls back onto the bed and stares up at the ceiling. “I’ll see you later, y’know for that thing we have on today? No big deal.”

Before the door could close, she stepped back into the room and raced towards the bed, jumping right on top of Steve. He let out a quiet grunt, but then her hands were on his face and her lips were on his and he was filled with a certain giddiness that only came with the knowledge that you’re marrying the love of your life later. He smiled into the kiss.

When she pulls way, she’s grinning, and he knows she’s as excited as he is.

“I love you, Steven Romanoff.”

With that, she was out the door again, quick and graceful and stunning as always.

Steve was still grinning as he shouted after her, “It’s Romanoff-Rogers!”

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

Bucky was dreaming again, except this time all he could see was you – right in front of him, repeatedly poking his face. Considerably less-sexy than his last dream featuring you.

He groaned, swatted at his face and you stepped back into a shadowy background.

The next thing Bucky new, he was shooting up out of the bed with a (frankly embarrassing) yelp, drenched in cold water and confronted with Nat’s smiling face.

She pressed her finger to her lips, shooshing Bucky and gesturing to you as he opened his mouth to question her.

“Come with me – we need to talk.”

“It’s 6am!” Bucky hissed, ��and you’re getting married later! Why do you need to talk to me?”

“Come with me and you’ll find out.” Bucky was still staring blankly at her, pulling the damp material of his shirt away from his skin.

Nat hit him with a pillow. “Come on.”

“Okay, okay,” he surrendered, pulling off the sheets.

Bucky pulls on a hoodie and some sweatpants then walks with Nat through the resort. She stays silent and he tries to rub the remnants of sleep from his eyes. She lets out a frustrated huff every few steps and he tries to pretend he’s not terrified of the redhead.

Finally, she pulls him out onto a balcony – somewhere private, a few floors up, and Bucky begins to wonder if she’s gonna push him off the edge.

All of a sudden, she hisses out, “you’re an asshole.”

He gapes at her for a brief moment before collecting his thoughts. “Okay, I know you said this is important but if we’ve just come out here so you can insult me, I think it can wait.”

“It can’t wait!” she growls, “It’s been waiting for years – I can’t stand it anymore!”

“Oh, you mean me and-“ Bucky was beginning to catch on to what Natasha was talking about. “Did Steve tell you?”

“No. Steve didn’t tell me – it’s blatantly fucking obvious!” she throws her arms up in exasperation and Bucky almost flinches.

“Calm down, Nat, I-“

“She’s in love with you!”

Bucky’s heart might’ve actually done a flip in his chest. His eyes widen and he steps back as if he’d been punched. Nat’s staring at him expectantly and he doesn’t know what to say – his lips are dry and he briefly wonders if she’s lying to him but Nat doesn’t lie, not to her friends.

“w-“ he clears his throat, “what?”

“She loves you, you big dumb pain-in-my-ass, I shouldn’t be telling you that but seeing as you’re both completely hopeless – she loves you and she heard you telling Steve you don’t love her.”

If he felt like he was getting punched before, it now feels like a bullet punctured his heart and he’s bleeding out on the balcony. His mouth suddenly feels very dry. He wishes Nat would throw him off the edge.

“I– I do,” he mumbles, scratches his fingers through the stubble on his jaw and avoids eye contact with Nat, “I do love her.”

“Well, I know that!” Natasha runs her fingers through her hair violently, “we need her to know that!”

Bucky is still trying to process all of this when Nat steps closer to him, pokes him in the chest and says, more earnest than he might’ve ever seen her, “you need to fix this, Barnes.”

“I– I’ll talk to her when we get back, after the wedding, when everything is calm when I’m not–“

“She’s giving up,” Nat interrupts, her tone matter-of-fact and urgent.

“Giving up?” Bucky’s still stuttering over his words. “What does that mean?”

“It means she’s moving out of New York!”

Silence falls across the balcony, thick and dark and Bucky swears his breath is turning to ice in front of him.

“What?” it’s a whisper, a breath filled with fear and confusion, “Sh- she wouldn’t. She loves New York – Brooklyn is her home.”

“She got offered a job in San Francisco. She told Steve last night. Said she needed an escape.”

Bucky rests, almost falls, back against the railing, letting it hold his weight as he tries to pull his thoughts together – he’s just received so much new information, and his heart is beating a million miles an hour.

“Barnes, you need to fix this. Before the end of the day.”

He nods numbly at her, then pries open his dry lips to ask one more question. “how?”

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

From the outside looking in, everything was normal. You and Bucky were a couple – smiling and touching and making appearances.

From the inside, everything was a little bit off.

Your eyes never quite met his, your touch never lingered like it used to, and you stepped out of his arms faster than before. He missed having you in his arms, missed your fingers on his waist, missed the way you used to look at him.

He wants to cry, wants to scream that he’s sorry and that he loves you. But he can’t yet, he has a plan.

So, he plays his part, holds your hand until you want to let go, stays by your side until you walk away.

Even when you’re beside him he feels like you’re 10 feet away, and more than anything he wants to close that gap.

Steve and Nat allow themselves to become fully engrossed in each other, in the big day. They let themselves forget your’s and Bucky’s issues for a while.

There’s one moment, when Steve see’s Bucky watching you, that he claps a hand on his best mate’s shoulder, a sympathetic look in his eye, one that Bucky perceives as disappointment.

“I’m gonna fix this Steve. I’ll fix this.”

“Yeah, Buck, I know.”

Despite the mild tension, the day passes quite pleasantly. Yours and Steve’s parents enjoy themselves, as do the other guests, and Nat and Steve end the day impossibly more in love.

“Buck, it’s time for the best man’s speech,” Nat whispers into Bucky’s ear, brushing past him to find her seat at the table. When she gets there she sends him a smile and a thumbs up. Good luck. Don’t fuck it up.

So, Bucky stands up. He clenches the paper in his hand, feels a rush of nervous heat spread over his cheeks and neck before awkwardly coughing into the microphone.

“Hi everyone, I’m Bucky, the best man.” It’s an awkward beginning, but with a nervous little smile, he continues, raising his glass to the still-silencing room.

“Those of you who know Steve will know me – you’re probably shocked that it’s not us getting married.” His joke lands and a quiet chuckle trickles through the room, a whoop of agreement from a scattered few (Tony, maybe, definitely Sam.)

“We’ve been inseparable since before we could walk which means this is probably gonna be a pretty long speech. Sorry.” He shrugs carelessly, already more relaxed. “In the last 28 years, We’ve given each other a lot of advice. Now, I like to think I’m pretty good at advice–“

He stops, turns to look at Steve and asks him “–do you remember what I told you when you were refusing to ask Nat out at that party?”

Steve leaned forward, cleared his throat with a chuckle “Something along the lines of ‘sack up and spit it out’?” Steve questions, loud enough for the crowd to hear.

They laughed at that, and you watch as Bucky tries to hold back a proud grin as he gestured between Steve and his bride. “See? Look at where that advice got you.”

Bucky turns back to the audience then, diving back into his speech. “I never thought Steve was good at advice. He suggested reckless endangerment and unnecessary rule-breaking far too often for me to listen to any of his advisory comments.”

Your mother lets out a chuckle, thinking back to all the troublemaking Steve had taken part in throughout High School and you can’t help but grin, knowing your brother would always be a little reckless at heart.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair, eyes searching the room until they landed on you.

“I have to admit, there were a few times when I should’ve listened. Like when we were 8,” behind him, a big photo of the two young boys appeared on a projector, drawing some ‘aww’s’ from the crowd. “It was the first time I was meeting Steve’s sister and he said something to me as we walked into the house.”

The picture changed. It was now the three of you laying flat on the grass in your backyard.

“He said ‘you should fall in love with her – maybe one day we can be actual brothers.’ At the time, I punched him in the shoulder and I did not take his advice.”

Bucky kept looking back at you, and even as your eyes began to water, you didn’t dare look away.

“The second time I should’ve listened was our senior prom – I didn’t know who to take and Steve, knowing (Y/n) didn’t have a date, told me to take her.” You both glance back at Steve at the same time, a smile on his lips and confusion in your eyes. “If I recall correctly, he told me that we would fall in love and in turn live out his life-long dream of becoming brothers”

Another laugh ran through the room.

“I didn’t listen that time either. I went to prom with a girl named Gemma and she ditched me for a guy named Brad and this is how I ended up spending prom night.”

He glanced back at the screen as a silent video played behind him – the two of you, 18 years old and giggling like children as you threw mnms into each other’s mouths.

A few coos are heard throughout the crowd, some laughter scattered through the room.

“Anyway – you’ve probably all seen me around, arm-in-arm with that beautiful girl.” Now, a picture of the two of you – a recent one, where you’re squeezing his waist and he’s making a face. You feel a tear slip down your face.

With a shake of his head, Bucky manages to pry his eyes off you and look back at Natasha and Steve, as if just remembering that there are other people in the room. “What I’m trying to say is that Steve doesn’t get a lot of things right, but when it comes to love, he really knows what he’s talkin’ about. Stevie, Nat; you guys have shown me what a genuinely wonderful nightmare relationships can be. I hope that one day I have even a fraction of what you guys do. Steve, You’ll always be my brother, no matter what, and unfortunately for you, Nat, that means you’re about to join the family.”

An applause swims through the room and Bucky bowed his head, mouthed the words ‘love you, guys,’ and then found his seat.

Your father stood up then, beginning his speech and the sudden silence of the crowd snapped you out of the trance Bucky’s speech had put you in. You hurriedly wiped the tears from under your eyes, glancing across at Bucky to see if he had noticed.

Your brain was swimming with thoughts – you and Bucky had fought, but you had to keep up this fake-dating charade until after the wedding. Maybe that’s what he wrote at the start of the week and hasn’t had time to re-write. Maybe that speech was just part of the lie.

Your heart beat loudly in your chest as you thought about the way he was looking at you.

Maybe it wasn’t.

“I need... I need some fresh air,” you mumbled, brushing your hand across your mother’s as you slipped out of your seat, heading for the closest terrace.

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

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[liloelsagranger]

One night in December ( # rocketshipping oneshot) - Merry Christmas to my #rocketshipping family

Hey my dear friends, this is my Christmas gift for you. Thanks for your support, love you! #rocketshipping ahead. To @ndbern-rocketmonsters @ndbernarts @jessicarocket @estrelarabyss @prepareforetrouble @masterstarpikachu @tothestarsabove @teamrocketfanart @thelovelyjessie @webelieveinlovepower @chaosandhope @james-team-rocket @danadiversity @krazy-holly @keksrocket @harmonyrocketeeveon @pok3ship @yesjanii @thecomputergirl @elysiiandream @fugly-chan @batfamfan1 @ghostkitty @pikamofo @eclipsing-dreams @abatwc @emily1037 @texansman20 @inuyashaeienni @zayphantomslayer @cat-0301 @james-kojiro-team-rocket @stjarnflicka @diehardrocketshipper @eclipsing-dreams  and everyone else <3

One night in December

Completely lost in thought, I sat at the bar and watched the singing Meowth on stage. Just like every night. Ever since I got kicked out of the college for future nurses. The talented cat-Pokémon who would work for peanuts held up a mirror of grief, depression and despair to me. « I feel sorry for you, Jessie » he would say while he struck up the next blues song. I cheered him and took a generous sip of the beer in front of me. I tried to let the malty taste of beer melt on my tongue and recover from the strains of the last days. What more could I do with my life? I was a loser, a good-for-nothing, not even capable of learning simplest medical terms and techniques. Why did I even waste another thought on a life in uniform, surrounded by illness and suffering? Because I wanted to help. Because I wanted to prove to the world out there that I had what it takes to make something of myself! I’m not just a hopeless orphan! I’m strong, beautiful and deserve a chance ! I want to decide freely about my life, but fate treated me unkindly. Used by the state, screwed over by men, my life story. I took another big sip, trying to avoid the prying eyes of a young man sitting next to me. He looked quite passable with his lavender locks and the piercing emerald green eyes, but my past has taught me to be careful. He could be just another guy who gives me a hard time, even though he looked anything but dangerous. In fact, he looked as devastated as me. A shy smile flitted across his face.

« Hey, do you need that bottle cap ? » he asked, pointing at the metal seal on the bar counter. I cocked an eyebrow. That was by far the lamest pick-up line I’ve every heard. Nevertheless, he had earned my attention with this question. «Help yourself » I replied. His eyes flashed for a brief moment as he examined the bottle cap. « A really rare find, thank you » he grinned and stowed his precious treasure in his pocket. How pathetic! How miserable must a person be when he feels joy for a bottle cap ? This man became more and more interesting. Judging by his looks, women hat to lie at his feet. Yet here he sits, all alone, collecting garbage. «My name is James» he introduced himself. «Jessie» we shook hands. «Tell me, Jessie. What brings you to this dump so close to Christmas? Isn’t your family waiting for you? A loving family that appreciates you and cares for you ? Who gives you freedom to develop and takes your dreams seriously ? » I felt a deep sadness. What he told me only existed in fairy tales, a picture-book family is nothing more than a fraud. « Family’s overrated, James » I said, « besides, I really like that singing Meowth» we both laughed.

« Can I get you something to drink ? » James pulled out his wallet. A lot of green bills jumped out at me. ‘Great, a stuck-up aristocrat. A rich, spoiled mama’s boy. That’s all I needed’ I was about to get up and crawl into another corner of the bar, but he held me back. «Please, don’t go! It’s not what it looks like. I’m not a pompous schmuck! To be honest, I’m on the run from this, » he pointed at his money. « Who would voluntarily run away from so much money?» I sat back on my seat waiting for his answer. «Money isn’t everything, Jessie. Not if it means losing your dignity and your will to make free choices » he explained. Then suddenly I realized this man got into trouble and he was seriously trying to escape from it. «Money is all well and good, but if it determines your whole life, you learn to hate it». I couldn’t figure it out at the time.

For a few minutes we sat next to each other in silence while listening to the cat’s singing.£«Would you like to dance?» James reached for my hand an lead me to the dance floor. It was very busy in the bar, people were busting on the floor, so for better or worse we were forced to move closer. I inhaled his tart sent. Although we had known each other for a little over an hour, a certainty unknown to me emanated from him. He was the type of man you would share everything with and who you could trust. He was decent, he laid his hands very carefully on my hips, fearing that he might break me otherwise. «What do you do during the day, Jessie?» he asked. It was incredibly loud on the dance floor, I almost had to shout my answer. « I actually wanted to be a nurse. Unfortunately, that dream has been shattered» disappointed, I let my head down. James lifted my chin and smiled at me. «Don’t give up, Princess ! You’re going to be great, I’m sure of it » his words were so motivating, making the corners of my mouth twitch. It’s been a long time since anyone gave me hope. It was good to hear that encouragment from James. « As a girl, I always wanted to be famous, a real star » I whispered. James looked at me with the kindest eyes. « There she is!»

«What about you?» I wanted to know. He made me twirl around. I wrapped my arms around his neck. « No one has ever asked me that before. I want to be free and my biggest wish is to become a Pokéringer» I could see James was having a hard time answering that question. Could I dare? What did I have to lose? I had no family, no home, no job, no boyfriend. «Then let us explore freedom together! With your pocket money we can travel, discover the world, feast and fall in love», romantic nostalgia was flaring up inside of me. It was time for a fresh start, and with James, I would take it. It seemed to me that he was not completely averse to the idea, but then the slap in the face. «It’s not that simple, Jessie. My life is predetermined. I can’t make decisions of my own free will. Tomorrow I’m a prisoner again. I’ll be married by force, so my parents can maintain their image. Everything’s settled, everything’s in order. I’m so sorry » he sighed. How could I be so naive and dream of a happy life? Each time, I was denied it! «Then this is where we parted ways again, James. After all, you were honest with me from the beginning. Farewell!» I didn’t turn around anymore, grabbed my coat, pushed the door open and ran out onto the snowy streets. Thickly wrapped, I strolled through the deserted alleys, only hearing the snow trickling softly. «It always comes down to just me», I rebuked myself for being so naive that I really would have given James a chance. I couldn’t get him out of my mind. So courteous and polite, if a little pathetic and shy. Would it had been funny ? Would we have supported each other? Would he have accompanied me on the road to fame ? Would I have cheered him on when he played for victory high up in the skies ? Questions upon questions, the answers to which I would never know.

« Jessie ! » I could hear a faint voice in the distance, probably fate laughing at me. « Jessie ! » There it was again. It approached with heavy steps. I turned around facing James. He was completely out of breath, his cheeks turning red from the cold. «Jessie» he grabbed my hands. «Forget the money, forget the weight on my shoulders. Ever since I spotted you in that bar today, I can’t think about anything else. You’re so different from the women I know. You’re determined, beautiful and talented. I know you’ve got big plans and I want to be with you every step of the way. We can both buy ourselves free from the shackles of society. We can do our own thing, become an unbeatable team. Jessie», he pulled me closer, so close I could feel his breath on my face. « Let’s be free. Let’s dream again, » he proposed. At first I was speechless and completely taken by surprise. We did not know if it would go wrong, but it was worth a try. I nodded. James smiled as if the heaviest burden had fallen off him. He cupped my face and pressed his lips on mine. I had never experienced such an intense kiss. It wasn’t just a kiss, it was a promise. Only the night was our witness. Our lips parted and we looked at each other in silence for a long time. «Yous two can count me in» a familiar voice broke the silence. Meowth tugged at my sleeve. We bent down to him and held each other in our arms. Our little free family.

 THE END

[toviitaffee]

It Was Meant to be Perfect

Fun fact, this fic did not turn out how I initially Imagined it. It started off as too much angst to the point where I couldn’t write it without bursting into tears. Either way, I hope you enjoy this mess! It’s midnight and I wanna post my writing that shouldn’t see the light of day but I tend to overshare! Please don’t kill me

Warnings!: [I’m stating it here that there are a lot of misleading warnings but I rather give them because they are technically in the story.] Bad writing probably, ANGST, mention of abuse (very brief), Anxiety/Panic attacks, PTSD, mention of a car accident (nondescriptive), Character death (but not really).

Pairings: Romantic Prinxiety

Summary: It’s a lovely evening on the day of Roman’s and Virgil’s third anniversary of being together. Except things don’t go quite as planned.

Word Count: 1,791

That night was possibly the most beautiful night Roman has ever had the chance to view. He couldn't help but stand on the balcony for a little while to admire as the sun slowly sunk below the skyline. The city would slowly begin to calm it's daylight activities and turn its life to adjust to the darkness of the sky. This city was a city that never slept, and Roman loved it. His eyes turned to the sky above where the lovely light blue was already long gone, replaced by a navy hue so close to black yet still not there. A stray thought passed within his mind, wondering how beautiful the stars would look if he didn't live in the middle of a city.

Once the sun completely disappeared from view, leaving just a slither of light over the horizon, the brunette turned to go back inside of his apartment. He still had work to do to make this evening perfect. After all, it isn't every day you celebrate a three year anniversary with your absolutely adorable boyfriend. Neither do you plan to propose to said boyfriend on just any day of the year. Roman simply couldn't allow for today not to be perfect and thankfully the universe decided to grace him with perfect weather for this perfect evening.

The dinner was already finished, it might've been pizza but it was homemade. Not by him of course, Roman was a disaster in the kitchen, he asked for Patton's assistance with that part of his plan. He did, however, pick out the wine and managed not to mess up when preparing store-bought garlic bread. The table was set up, candles and flowers and all. That was just Roman's style though, be as cheesy and Romantic as one can be. With roughly thirty minutes to spare before Virgil would be back home from work, everything was in place and has been double-checked.

Roman was just about to put in the disk of classical music he borrowed from Logan to provide a calming atmosphere for both of them, though mostly with Virgil's anxiety in mind when his phone rang. It startled him with how much he was focusing on all of this but he didn't dwell for long on that shock, choosing to answer the phone sooner rather than later. The person calling was none other than Roman's significant other.

"Hey, babe! I'm guessing you finished your shift and are now on your way back to your one and only beloved right?" the brunette exclaimed into the phone the second he picked up, earning a snort from the other side. That was a good sign, it meant the man on the other end of the line was in just as good spirits as Roman himself was.

"Duh Princey, as much as I hate that job I wouldn't actually call you during work hours. You can quit being nervous about whatever cheesy thing you... created for our anniversary, I should be back in ten-ish minutes," Virgil replied, the sound of the busy street he was on evident both through his slightly uncertain voice as well as the typical traffic noises the phone always picked up.

"How the heck did you know I was planning something?!" Roman said in a voice that resembled a squeak more than anything. He thought that maybe he slipped or Patton or Logan did and what was supposed to be a surprise wouldn't be as surprising anymore. Then again maybe it was better that Virgil knew, he never did like surprises anyway.

"Maybe because I know just how much of a gay mess you tend to be? Ro, I'd be worried about your health if you didn't have anything planned," the other man replied with amusement lacing his voice. It was always fun for him to tease Roman until there was absolutely nothing else he could find to tease him about. It was a fun dynamic to deal with even if they end up arguing over stupid things as a result. In a way, the arguments brought them closer together.

"Well, true. But you don't know what I'm actually doing right?" Roman asked quietly, glancing at the decorated table with slight panic and nerves rising.

"No, of course, I-" the other began to reply before nothing but the traffic could be heard from the other side. This only brought more panic to Roman because Virgil never just stopped in the middle of a sentence without a reason. Something was wrong.

"Virgil? Hey, what's going on? Why'd you cut off so suddenly?" the panic in his voice was evident, there was no point to hide it then. Virgil knew that Roman wasn't the greatest when dealing with panic attacks because he would worry too much about whatever caused it and the after-effects on the body. He just wanted his boyfriend to be safe. The silence only stretched on. It was finally broken by panicked breathing and the sound of running.

"V? Talk to me Storm Cloud, please. You need to breathe," Roman couldn't help but trail off. What was he supposed to do? Sure he dealt with Virgil's panic attacks in the past but never over the phone. Never when Virgil was running through the city in a blind panic unresponsive to Roman's call. There was just more silence for a few more seconds before a shaky whisper broke it. Virgil wasn't running anymore but it was obvious he wasn't walking at a leisurely pace either.

"H-he... He was there... Ro what if - What if he saw me?" Vigil managed to stutter out, not once managing to grasp control over his breathing while doing so. Roman was beyond panicked now but he could no longer show this worry to his boyfriend in the state he was in right now. He knew immediately who Virgil meant. His shitty excuse of an abusive father, the reason behind Virgil's many psychological issues.

"Even if he saw you, he can't do anything to you, alright? You're in a crowded place, there's the restraining order, you're safe. Please, go into one of the stores nearby so I know you're safe from your own panic. Tell me where you are and I'll come to get you. It won't be more than five minutes if I run yeah?" Roman was trying to keep his voice level and calm. He was trying to do something, anything to make sure Virgil would be safe. He was already halfway through putting on his shoes when he added another instruction to the other person. "Remember your breathing thing. In for four, hold for seven and out for eight, right?" By now, Roman was ready to leave, "Where are you?" he asked again, almost begging for a response to this one simple question.

"I- Oh God no! He's there Ro, he can see me, I know it!" With that quiet, panicked whisper, everything that Roman said that somewhat worked to begin to ease the panic shattered. Virgil was running again. He was breathing even more sporadically now. And Roman still had no idea where he was when he left their apartment building.

"Virgil, please, just tell me where you are! I'm already on the streets so I'll be there to protect you soon okay? I just need to know where to go," Roman went back to pleading. He decided that heading in the direction of Virgil's work would work for now. They both knew the path like the back of their hands. They dropped each other off to work as well as picked each other up often enough to have it memorized. Even in panic, Virgil's subconsciousness would lead him along the familiar path... right? He still wasn't responding to anything so Roman just ran, keeping his phone connected to Virgil's, in case he would get more information.

He never did get a response over the line. Roman managed to find Virgil on his own, running through a confused crowd. Why were they all just ignoring his obvious panic? Why did none of them stop him from running? Roman's mind was spinning in fear as he could do nothing but watch the love of his life trip and fall. No. This couldn't be happening. But even with his eyes closed he could hear nothing but the screeching tires, a collision and the distinct sound of a call ending. Roman was stuck there, standing with his eyes closed in complete shock. This hasn't just happened. It couldn't be real, it couldn't, it couldn't--!

"Roman?" the voice startled him back to reality. It was Patton, speaking over the phone. His eyes snapped open, awaiting to be faced with a devastating crash in front of him but nothing of the sorts was there. He imagined it. He went into panic himself to the point where he imagined the worst possible outcome of this situation. It sounded downright ridiculous in hindsight.

"Yeah Patton?" Roman answered, his voice shaking as he checked who the caller was. It was still Virgil's phone. Patton must've found him then. Roman found that he could breathe again at the thought.

"I've got Virgil so don't worry. Knowing you, you're probably not too far from where we are right kiddo? We're in the little book store five minutes away from your apartment so come and get yourself over here. Don't rush too much though! I could hear just how terrified you've gotten when I took Virgil's phone from him," Patton's voice was just as cheery and reassuring as always. Roman managed to sigh in relief. Everything was fine. Though he knew he wouldn't keep the sound of screeching tires away from his dreams for a few nights. With that thought, he headed to the location Patton gave him.

So maybe his evening didn't go quite as planned but they made the best of what was left of it one they both calmed down and Patton left them on their own. Pizza still happened, just while being cuddled within many, many blankets on the couch while they marathoned Disney movies. It was obvious neither of them would be able to sleep for a while yet, too caught up in the images still trying to fog over both of their consciousness'. Roman still also managed to propose, kind of. He simply promised that he will always be there to protect Virgil, no matter what, before he slipped a box with matching bands into Virgil's hand. As to why it held matching bands rather than a single engagement ring? Well, to Virgil, weddings were overrated, so why get married when it doesn't define love. The bands were just a promise between them and that was enough for them both.

[ponderinqs]

Talking to the Moon. -L. Ackerman

author’s note: this is a levi x reader as childhood friends! warnings: mentions of death but that’s all :) genre: childhood friends, fluff, some angst?? word count: 2,383 --------------------------------------------------- From the memories of being a child that you can remember, he was always in the picture. Every single memory that you can possibly recall, there he was. It wasn’t a bad thing per say. Your families grew up next to each other after all. You moved in a year or two after he had moved in with his mom. Kutchel was her name. You remember her bringing over a fresh batch of homemade brownies with a little sidekick next to her. “Oh, hello! I saw that you are our new neighbors, so I couldn’t help but make you all feel welcomed. I’m Kutchel, and this is my son Levi.” Kutchel ruffled up Levi’s hair, making him groan in response. “Moooommm.” He immediately caught your attention. He was unusual looking for a kid. But, maybe it was a good thing. After being introduced to your brand new neighbors, everything took off from there. The two mothers were often found at the town’s park with their two kids. You and Levi grew closer and closer each and every year. When Levi was twelve, and you were eleven, devastating news fell upon the hands of the small children. Kutchel, the sweet lady who always gave you such a warm smile, died. She was silently fighting cancer, but told not one person about the fatal disease. Levi took the news pretty heavily, and ran away. It took you and your mother exactly a week and three days to find him. He was absolutely filthy, considering he was hiding in an abandoned shopping center. Your mother took him home and gave him a bath and of course, food to eat. He lived with you both for four years in the extra bedroom across from yours. He became a brother to you. Kids at school made up rumors, saying that his mother left him with you because she didn’t love him anymore, or that you both were actually siblings. They were different every day. After the four years, Levi was sixteen and you were fifteen. Things were definitely different. There was a weird tension between you two. You couldn’t put your tongue on it, but something felt weird in your stomach every time you looked at Levi. You for sure thought it was just guilt from his mother passing away, but then you came to the conclusion that they were in fact butterflies. It was no doubt that you two had feelings for each other. I mean, growing up and going through everything together? There was going to be some type of love there. You meant to tell Levi how you felt, and so did Levi. He was planning on telling you he loved you the day his uncle took him away from you. It was a Sunday evening when the doorbell rang. Your mother thought it was her friend, but it ended up being some weird man with a hat and a beard. He barged through the house and stood by the door. “Where is he?” The man spoke loudly, startling you and your mother. “W-Who are you sir? And who are you referring to?” Your mother stared at the man with terror in her eyes. “Levi, you shit! Where is he!” As soon as Levi heard his name from his room, he came downstairs and stared at the man with widened eyes. “Kenny..?” He approached him slowly. “Ah, there’s the bastard. Come on, we’re leaving.” He grabbed Levi by the arm and started dragging him out the door. “Levi! No!!!” You screamed out to him, only to have him look back at you. “I’m sorry, (name).” Was the last thing you ever heard come out of his mouth. He had a phone, and you always tried to call him. Everyday after school, you called him about ten times. But, you gave up after three months of trying. Where could he have gone? Is he okay? Who was that man who took him away? Those questions never stopped running through your head. Countless breakdowns and panic attacks at night never seemed to stop. It was all his fault. One night, you went onto your roof. You stared up at the sky and talked to Levi. “Levi.. I don’t know where you are or what you’re doing right now, but I miss you. It’s been a course of six months since I last saw you. When will you come home to me? I- I never got to tell you, but I like you.. Do you like me back?” You spoke to the stars as if they would somehow turn to Levi and he would give you the response you so desperately craved. Levi did the same exact thing that night. He went onto the roof of his worn down apartment complex and looked up into the starry night. “(name), I wish I could change the past. I knew that someday we would be separated, but I never knew it would happen this soon. Tch.. I never told you my feelings either. I hope that you’re okay.” A total of nine years had passed since that day. Levi was long forgotten by now. You had graduated and moved to New York City for your career in painting. You started to paint when you were seventeen and realized that you were incredible at the hobby. You were given a job opportunity here and you decided to take it. Some of your work would be plastered onto a wall in an art museum. It felt so surreal to you. You picked a couple pieces of art that were special to you to put up in the museum. One in particular was a starry night with a girl, no less than fifteen years old, sitting upon a roof and looking up into the sky. It always reminded you of that night. After the workers mounted the few art pieces to the wall, you were able to take a glimpse at your magnificent artwork. Tears pricked at your eyes when you finally realize your dream of being an artist came true. The art show was tomorrow, so you had to take a cab home and get some good rest. You stopped at a small corner store before heading home, being in the mood for chocolate milk. Your mom always made it for you and… him. But you still loved it nonetheless. After paying for your drink, you exited the store and began to walk along the sidewalk to find a cab. It wasn’t until a sudden force almost knocked you off your feet. You turned around and watched a woman with brown hair and glasses struggle to stand up. “Oh my, I am so sorry!! I wasn’t looking where I was going!” She apologized several times and you just smiled. “It’s alright, I appreciate your apolog-” You were cut off by a man catching up to the woman. “Oi, four eyes, let’s go. Stop talking to strangers.” His raven hair and steel eyes reminded you of someone from your past, but you brushed it off. This isn’t some cheesy fanfic, (name). This is your life for crying out loud.   “Okay, shorty. Let’s go. Sorry again ma’am!” She waved and jogged to catch up to the man, who’s eyes were glued onto yours. He looked shocked for a split second, before returning to his cold expression. You shook it off and found a cab before heading home. The next day was filled with anxiety. You were a nervous wreck on your way to the art show. You were bouncing your leg up and down while fidgeting with your fingers. Once you arrived at the museum you paid the cab driver and headed up to your exhibit. You were offered plenty of drinks and free food, but your appetite was long gone. You were wearing a simple red dress, fitted to your body, and some red heels. Not too much heel, or else you would fall flat on your face. The art show was three hours in, and many people stopped to look at your exhibit. They gave you plenty of warming compliments about each piece on the wall. When nobody was around your paintings, you walked over to the food and grabbed a few items to keep yourself in check. Three Hours Before Levi had planned to stay inside today, but when Hanji came bursting through the doors of his apartment, he had guessed she had other plans for him. “Leeevvvviiii!!” She came jogging into the living room, causing Levi to give her a glare. “What is it, shitty-glasses?” He picked up his tea cup and took a sip before placing it back down onto the coffee table. “So you know that art museum in Times Square? Well…. There’s finally going to be an art exhibit there! There hasn’t been one in over six months!! We need to go Levi, you’ll love it!” She tugged on Levi’s arm, causing him to click his tongue. “Fine. But only because you won’t leave me the hell alone.” He stood up and got dressed before the two of them took a cab to the art museum. It wasn’t too packed, but the place was nice and welcoming. While walking around, he lost Hanji and just sighed. “That dumbass..” He said under his breath while walking through the various paintings that were plastered up onto the walls. He approached a few that caught his eye. It looked like more of a beginning who had painted it, but overall was really good. While looking at each painting, one made his heart skip a beat. It was of a small child, perhaps around the age twelve, sitting on a swing with a girl. The boy wore mostly black, and his hair was raven colored just like his own. Their backs covered up their facial features, which gave the painting some sort of mystery to it. Another painting caught his eye. A young teen girl, sitting on a roof, while looking up into the starry sky. It felt oddly familiar to him, but he couldn’t quite tell as to why. The painting was labeled ‘Talking to the Moon’ and the artists’ name was nowhere to be seen, which gave him yet another mystery. These paintings seemed as though they came from the painter’s memories. You were heading back to your exhibit after eating a few sushi rolls when you spotted a man at your paintings. You rushed over to him, when you realized you had seen him before. From last night! That lady that ran into you, he was there too! You walked up to him and smiled. “H-Hi sir. Sorry.. I usually greet people that come over here but.. I was finding food.” You blushed shyly. “Tch. What’s the meaning with all of these anyway?” He asked, not looking at you yet. The voice sounded so close to home that it was almost scary. “Oh, hah, they were just some random memories I came up with in my head.” You laughed nervously. That was when he took a look at you, and his eyes widened. You caught the expression, and suddenly all of your childhood flashed before your eyes. “(name)!! Put that nasty thing down!” Levi laughed while running away from you. You were holding a worm while chasing Levi around your backyard with it. “Sometimes I still think, what if my mom was still alive?” Levi said while you two sat in his room one night. “Hey, she still lives on!” You pointed to his heart. “(name), we might get separated one day. I just want you to know that if or when we do, we will cross paths again. I am sure of it, okay?” Levi engulfed you into a hug while you cried. “You think so?” You sniffled after pulling away from the hug. “Oh yeah, I’m sure of it. Now let’s go eat some ice cream!” You both laughed on your way to the kitchen. Tears filled your eyes, a few escaping and falling down your cheeks. “L-Levi..?” You said quietly. “(name).. It’s really you, isn’t it?” He let his lips turn into a small smile. You wiped your tears and wrapped your arms around him tightly. “Oi, you’re suffocating me.” He said, muffled. You pulled away and laughed. “Sorry.” “You said we would cross paths again, and we did. Levi..” You found yourself crying yet again. “Hey, brat, stop it.” He wiped the fallen tears on your cheek with his thumb. You blushed and hugged him again. “I never gave up on you. I called you every single day after school for-” “For three months. I know. My uncle wouldn’t let me answer the phone. It was torture to me, trust me.” He interrupted you suddenly. You pulled away from the hug yet again. “Levi.. these pictures.. they aren’t just random memories. They are the memories that I remember of us.. The starry night one, I remember I was on the roof and I was trying to talk to you after you left.” You sniffled as you took a minute to recall your past. “I did the same. I thought that one day I would wake up and this would all be a dream but unfortunately it wasn’t.” He looked into your eyes. “I never forgot you. When I saw you last night, I brushed it off because there's no way in hell that would be you, right? But I guess it was.” He grabbed your hand and squeezed it. “That night.. I uh.. I was going to confess before my uncle took me away,” He continued. “But I never got a chance.” He brought your hand up to his lips and kissed gently. “(name), I love you. I always have loved you. From the moment you moved into that fancy ass house of yours, I always loved you.” Your eyes widened. “Levi..” You stared at him before he crashed his lips onto yours. Everything moved in slow motion. It felt like you two were the only ones in the museum. You wrapped your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. After all these years of talking to the moon and waiting for him to reappear in your life finally paid off. You pulled away from the kiss slowly. “Levi, I love you too.”

[help-its-a-dot]

Alright so when I took this job they said all I had to do was narrate. You know, just follow this guy around and relay what he’s doing, make it sound interesting, yada yada yada.

Ok now that I say it out loud I realize that I’ve probably looked like a stalker for the past few days.

Fun.

ANYWAYS I was going somewhere with this; I had a point. Right. My point was that I didn’t think I’d end up in the middle of a burned down park, cowering in absolute terror behind some rocks that I really wish were bigger, and longing with all that's left of my heart that I could be one of those people that are, given the situation, naturally sprinting away whilst screaming at the top of their lungs.

Should I run away? I mean, it seems like the more logical option here; If I could get over that bridge, then I’d-

*bridge disintegrates*

Well there goes that.

Looks like I’ll be narrating then! Yippee. So, I should probably warn you, I haven’t exactly been paying attention to my assigned main character, ergo I don't have that much background knowledge. Oh who am I kidding, I have none.

Anyhow, sorry, I know I should be narrating. I’m getting to that. Background knowledge. What do I know?

Uh, actually nothing much happened to this dude. A few weeks ago he found a dead body in his bathtub. Now that I think about it, that’s probably where I should’ve started paying attention….

Ah, fucked this up, didn’t I.

Also, as a side note, I’m gonna be calling this dumbass Jake because my dumbass kind of sort of didn’t ever really at all catch his name.

Alrighty folks! I’m gonna…. Be brave…. And peek out from behind these rocks…. Did I mention how much I wished they were bigger? 

Ahem. *clears throat*. Narrator voice. *nods decisively*. Lets go.

There’s fire everywhere. On the tops of trees like snow at the peaks of mountains (how are there even still trees here) bushes have morphed into bonfires, while patches of grass are practically leaking little flames like a dope game of ‘the floor is lava’.

Jake stands, looking at the devastation with wide eyes. Smoke billows out into the sky, painting the already grey clouds black.

A deafening crash sounds behind him- you know, the kind you get when a boulder squishes a four story building like it’s a three year old’s structure of off brand legos. He’s thrown to the ground, and waits, breathing heavily.

Aw god why did I forgot my flask of vodka today? I freaking need it.

And as if that weren’t enough, a spaceship just blipped into the sky.

Should I run?

I should probably run.

Sorry, sorry, I’m not very good at this narrator thing. In my defense, I didn’t think they were serious! Alright, I’m gonna try that again.

Suddenly, and quite literally out of nowhere, there’s a fatally blinding blue-red light, making everyone in the immediate vicinity-- which isn’t that many people anymore, most have used their last few remaining drops of common sense and fled for their lives --squeeze their eyes shut and hastily bury their heads in whatever was nearest and most convenient to shield themselves from impending blindness, wailing in a mix of surprise and agony. All flames previously terrorizing the verdure are extinguished and the smoke is blown out as a single gust of forceful wind, which also effectively topples the few remaining, yet charred nonetheless, trees, buildings, and people.

Augh, ew, eurgh, I got a mouthful of Martin’s grocery bag. How do I know it’s Martin’s? They have a distinctive taste of mild sadness and resignation. Right, right, the spaceship. 

See, when I say spaceship, I mean cool looking flying saucer thingy appearing like it was plucked right out of a conspiracy theory and given some upgrades. It’s a giant, azure/ultramarine blue, except for the bottom which shines in a weirdly mesmerizing yellowish glow, squished sphere. Oval. Pancake. Sorry, I don't know my shapes. It seems to be practically thrumming with energy, like it drank five red bulls followed by ten extremely caffeinated coffees and finished it all off with a few five hour energy drinks. 

I cannot tell you how much I hope it doesn't do what it looks like it’s gonna do and explode.

Meanwhile, Jake has picked up… a sword. Well shit. Medieval, much? Not a gun? No? Personally, I think a gun would be extraordinarily effective against the horde of what looks like blobs but are probably extravagantly dangerous aliens filing in a weirdly orderly single file line out of the saucer and immediately beginning to lomp closer and closer and closer crap did I mention they were getting closer?

Should I run?

I should probably run.

Hold up, no, that reminds me, I’m supposed to be narrating. God, I’m atrocious at this, aren’t I.

He feels sweat break out on his brow. The sword is heavy in his hands, and he can barely lift it, let alone decapitate a blob, but he’s in too deep to let his weariness show. He’s gotta be strong and save what’s left of these people, this city, or die trying. Which is probably what’ll happen in a few minutes. But ah, well, he’ll die fighting for Americanos , which can’t be all that bad.

Technically, if you think about it, he’s suicidal, because his colossal ego will not, quite literally, for the life of him, allow him to take a smart route, like getting into that convenient truck and bowling over all the blobs, or snatching up a gun from that store across the street, or even just alerting someone who is actually capable at dealing with an event like this like the authorities.

But what can he do, he is American, after all. It's simply unavoidable; part of the culture description. *white people i swear

He watches morbidly as Martin’s grocery bags blow past from the ruins before him, and glances up as the spaceship above him gives one final thrum and blips away, probably back to wherever it came from, leaving him alone with an army of blobs bouncing threateningly towards him.

In truth, he didn’t know what they were. All he knew was that if they kept destroying everything at this rate, there won't be a single McDonalds left in America, and he couldn’t have that. Of course, by then there wouldn’t even be an America, and everyone would have to go to the McDonalds’ in Russia. Russia has McDonalds, right? Oh, he simply could not do that to his fellow citizens! 

He pondered this, along with whether or not Australia exists, all the while counting down the seconds (...7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… dammit 3, 2, 1… 3, 2, 1… 3, 2-- he’d get it eventually) until his doom and willing his arms not to shake with the incredible weight of the sword in his hands. Whose idea was it to make swords out of metal, anyways? It’s incredibly stupid-- nowadays 90% of America wouldn’t even be able to muster the courage to touch one, let alone the strength to lift one. 

Ugh, he knew he should’ve gone with that plastic light saber he’d seen at the mall. At least then he could’ve gone down with style.

As if on cue, there’s another, at this point expected, crash resounding behind him, and he turns to watch in despair as said mall tumbles almost comically to the ground. 

There goes the light saber.

And another McDonalds.

Ohh, things were getting bad.

The park, if you could still call it a park, is deserted now save for the occasional Martin’s grocery bag skittering about, and he can’t help but give in to the desire to reflect upon his life. He wasted it, playing video games and other shit like that all day, every day. This is the first time he’s been outside in a long time. He now knows with absolute certainty that if he were ever granted such an opportunity he’d go back and redo it all. He’d try harder to beat that level, he’d get the better controller, he’d stay up later working on his technique. But all that was a distant dream now, something he could not hope to accomplish now.

He wished that maybe, just maybe, heaven would have a nice game console for him.

When he’d gotten selflessly sucked into this adventure, he never thought he’d actually die, never expected anything to really happen- If he had, he of course would never have turned the power of his last 8 braincells away from a computer screen and into the real world to start investigating.

Ah fuck, sorry for interrupting, I think I twisted my wrist or some shit while trying to get a better vantage point on these still too small rocks. 

Should I run?

I should probably run.

On a different note: I’m really sorry guys. When you take a narrator job they never tell you anything about your person. Had I known he was American, I would have immediately sabotaged this entire thing; I could never in good conscience have subjected you guys to.. well.. this.

But alas, now I’m stuck narrating an American who is going to get me killed.

Unless… Unless there’s a loophole. My parents were lawyers, so I excel at finding those.

The rules are, you have to stay with your hero and narrate their adventure. How an American turned out to be one of the heroes, I know not, it must be a glitch in the system. But I’ll be fucking damned if this glitch gets me killed. Literally. So! Once the hero, inevitably, dies, you’re free to go. There’s nothing much left to narrate afterwards. And since Jake is closer to the horde of blobs coming our way than I am, as soon as he’s bowled over I’ll sprint. To the side, like a smart immigrant would do. Not straight back, because then the blobs’d just follow me and kill me, so the only logical conclusion is to circle around them and see if my apartment is still intact. I didn’t finish my cream puffs and I really don't want them to melt.

They’re getting closer. He can hear their squelching, and the chicken nuggets in his stomach churn unpleasantly. There’s bits of goo flying off them in all directions, and when said goo makes contact with something it immediately disintegrates that unfortunate something, leaving nothing behind. Is this really the fate that’ll befall him? Is this how the world ends?

Well, death by disintegration it is then. Oh, he can’t wait to brag to his boys about this.

Oh, wait, no, that’s not right. He’ll be dead.

And, in the last few moments before the blobs reach him, he reconsiders. There’s still so much this cruel world has to offer, and he never took advantage of any of it. Nor was he ever grateful for much of it. 

He suddenly feels a new feeling. Determination. He will destroy every single one of these vile creatures, and he WILL come out of it intact. He has to. 

With new resolve he scrapes together the last of his strength and raises his trusty sword over his head, every nonexistent muscle tense, ready. They’re getting closer. Closer. 50 yards. 30 yards. 20. 10. Just a few feet.

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes dramatically. Swings his sword.

And is immediately squashed with the most sickening squelch there could ever be.

Ew.

Should I run?

I should probably run.

Yeah, I’m gonna run.

[becomethevoidstuff]

Commission #1: Trust Goes Both Ways

Series:  Naruto / Boruto

Scenario:  The Hokage realizes he needs to step up his game. Believe it!

Genre:  Romance

Themes:  Angst, Slice of Life, Fluff

Word Count:  2000

Dedicated to:  KH, my first commissioner ♥

Akito was determined to sleep in and cuddle her man for hours this morning.  As she drowsily stretched her fingers to the other half of the mattress, only cold sheets greeted her grasp.  She sat up and yawned while rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with a frown.

He never came home.  Again.

The woman huffed and shoved her luscious locks out of her face in frustration.  She muttered continuously, “He may be Hokage now, but that doesn’t mean leaving me hanging!”

Her irritation steadily increased as she sipped her green tea.  She glared at the clock over her mug.  Instead of more anger, she became exuberant once she noticed the time.  Lunch is approaching, and with it, an opportunity to shine!  She began to dig around for the ingredients she needed for her plan to work.

~ ~ ~

After lots of sweat and a few tears, her final product was safely packaged and ready for transport!  She scrambled to get dressed in time for Naruto’s lunch break – she had one chance and did not want to blow it!  She hopped into her pants and fixed her sports bra.  Her fighting style focused on speed and maneuverability versus strength and power, so she fixed her clothes accordingly.

After carefully balancing the package in her hand as she slipped on her shoes and locked up the apartment, she was ready to continue her operation:  the Hokage’s office.  Akito gave the usual brief greetings as she strolled through the village.  Yet, her focus remained entirely on the task at hand.  To a passerby, she sounded quite rude.  But to friends and colleagues?  Eh, it’s just Akito.

As she passed a newly constructed building, a loud bark in the distance caught her off-guard.  A familiar white dog barreled towards her at full speed.  Not today!

As the dog drew near, she carefully sidestepped while holding the package close to her chest.  A guy ran up close behind the animal, rubbing the back of his neck apologetically.  “Sorry about Akamaru, Akito! He hasn’t seen you in forever!”  He chuckled as he concluded with his signature grin.

Akito scoffed, “Yeah, if forever counts as yesterday!”  Her free hand went over the dog’s ears attentively.  He adored the attention.

Kiba crossed his arms and briefly looked her up and down, “You look particularly hot today, Akito.  Want to get a drink later?”

She was so focused on rubbing Akamaru’s back that she barely heard his request.  “Sorry, but I have to meet up with Naruto. See ya!”  After one last scratch under the chin, Akito left them to carry on.

She soon huffed in annoyance.  “Now, how to get his attention this time?”  An epiphany made her grin mischievously as she scaled the Hokage building, barely able to contain her excitement.  Her fingers gripped the too familiar side window as the other hand continued to clutch her precious cargo.

Akito shoved with her shoulder to pry the window open.  She exclaimed dramatically, “Knock knock, your favorite person with your favorite food!”

Naruto jolted awake in surprise, now completely consciousness.  “Akito!”  His signature grin made her heart go pleasantly aflutter.

“I come bearing a special gift made by yours truly,” she pointed to herself with her thumb as she positioned her package in the only spot on his desk free of paperwork.  “Dig in!”

He opened the travel container in earnest. The aroma immediately hit his nose.  He felt drool building up from just the smell and looks alone.  He clapped his hands together and bowed his head in thanks before digging in with his chopsticks.  As he slurped his noodles, he nearly cried from joy.  His entire being exuded happiness as he ate its deliciousness.  Akito leaned on the desk nearby and sported a smirk of triumph.

While holding the bowl to his lips and gulped down the broth, the office door swung open.  The visitor held up a couple papers as Akamaru dove for Akito.

“Well, we just keep finding each other today, huh?” Kiba grinned as he tossed his mission report on the table.

Akito snorts as she rubbed Akamaru’s belly, “Yeah right.”  Naruto almost choked in shock.

Kiba approached Akito, a mirror of their previous encounter.  He brushed a long strand of her hair behind her ear as he repeated his offer.  Her eyes narrowed as she stopped patting the dog, thinking over his words and confirming that she did not mishear.

Before she could reject him however, Naruto stated, “Inuzuka, I have received your report. Dismissed!”  The atmosphere in the office grew cold very quickly, enough for the huge canine to whine and bump his head on Kiba’s leg.  The man in question growled in annoyance yet formally nodded to Naruto in acknowledgement of the order.

Akito crosses her arms, bristling from a building agitation.  “What was that for, Naruto? Kiba was just in the area while I was on my way over! Akamaru loves me!  I don’t see anything wrong with this whole –“

“Akito.”  The way Naruto said her name made her blood run cold.  He sounded so angry and devastated all at once.  She could not understand why he changed attitudes so suddenly.  His tone both terrified and infuriated her.  She wasn’t too sure which one was the dominate emotion though.  What was he not telling her this time?!

She placed her hands on her hips and gave her man an intense glare, her stance completed with her tone of voice.  “What is it, Lord Hokage?”  Her speech dropped to such a monotone that Naruto had to suppress shudder.

But he refused to waver.  “Kiba asked you out on a date. He’s always been crazy about you, and you just said it yourself that Akamaru loves you. Do I need to be worried?”

Akito’s glare hardened as she leaned over the massive desk.  “Of course not. Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

Naruto blinked a few times before saying, “What are you talking about, Akito?”

“You’re always here, in this big office, so far from home,” she turned in a circle with her hands up to emphasized her point, “Shouldn’t I be worried about you having some special friends over in my absence? You never keep your word anymore so you letting me down like that honestly wouldn’t faze me, Lord Hokage.”

The tension was thick in the air.  Neither of them refused to back down.  But Naruto soon hung his head in shame, wondering how this train of thought even started in Akito’s mind.  She knew he was busy here.  Was she just aggravated, or is this what she really thought of him now?  What was he supposed to think about this?  He began to tremble as tears slowly rushed down his cheeks and he did not try to stop any of it.

Akito huffed after her rant, feeling particularly overjoyed that she finally let everything out.  She was not about to apologize either!  She crossed her arms in triumph at finally telling the man she loves what went through her head for once.  After all, she is not able to talk to him much anymore!

However, her confidence quickly faded as she noticed that Naruto had not said a word.  He always has something to say.  She stepped closer to him, being cautious for once.  This was worrying her, more than it should have.

She touched his shoulder gently, “Naruto?”  Then, she heard it.  And it broke her heart immediately.  He was crying.  Naruto, the hyperactive knucklehead ninja she fought on the front lines with, the man she fell in love with, her Hokage, was crying his eyes out because of her.

Naruto tried valiantly to rub his eyes dry.  He hiccupped, “W-what is it, Akito?”  His tears wouldn’t stop, no matter how hard he tried.

Akito knelt down to become eye level with him.  She bit her lip to fight the squeamish feeling that was building in her belly as Naruto continued to look at her. She eventually sighed and put her hands on his cheeks, her thumbs softly brushing away the tears.  “Naruto, I am only going to say this once, because you mean a lot to me and I’m not about to lose you again because of my stupid decisions.”

He exhaled shakily and nodded.  She continued, “I was not trying to hurt you.  I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while now, just us.  Not work, the bills, or the village.  Just me and you.  I love your stubborn butt.  I’m very proud of you for going for your dream and never giving it up.  I don’t want to give us up.  I don’t want to push you away anymore.  I’m sorry.”

Her words, though direct, rang true.  Naruto knew she was sincere.  He knew her long enough to not be bothered by her particular word usage.  He placed his hands on hers, both still on his face.  He sighed and slowly began to smile.  “I’m sorry too.”

She grinned back, “So, my dear Hokage, what do we do now?”

~ ~ ~

Akito left the office through the window, the biggest smile on her face once again.  The two of them finally talked!  Naruto mentioned that he had to back get to work, understandably.  Being Hokage is a job stuffed to the brim with work.  But he just snickered and kissed her nose.  Her nose had scrunched up instinctively, which then made him laugh out loud.  He winked and promised that he was going to make everything up to her later.  She doesn’t have a clue how he’s going to do that, and she doesn’t care!  She’s just happy to actually have the opportunity to be alone with him that isn’t the Hokage office.  She heard Shikamaru and Sakura outside the door, but they did not dare enter until she left. Wise choice.

She held the empty ramen container with pride and a bounce in her step.  The food definitely helped her today.  It brought positive results in the end!  She’ll have to do this another time soon.

After a while, she drifted into her own world and thought about her time at the ninja academy forever ago, not paying attention to her surroundings.  It was only after her face was in the dirt she realized she was on the ground.  An excited bark brought her back to the present.  She rolled over onto her back as she sniggered.

“Wow, Akamaru!  You’re not giving up today!” she laughed more as she rubbed his furry belly.

The dog’s ninja partner showed up soon after she stood back up.  Kiba just smirked and called Akamaru to his side.  “Fancy meeting you here, Akito.”

She just rolled her eyes.  “Whatever you say, Kiba.  I have to go home now.”

“What about that drink though?” He pouted for a moment.

“I’ve never liked alcohol.  I’ll see you two later!” She turned around and then decided to add chakra to her feet to help her speed home before it got dark.

Eventually, she arrived home and immediately kicked off her sandals.  She wiggled her toes with excited delight at being back home.  She looked up and dropped her package from shock.  The table was set, complete with the lights off and candles glowing in the dark.  Food and flowers lay on the table in a special arrangement.  It was messy but beautiful all the same.  As she made her way through the apartment, she noticed that the bedroom door was ajar, another soft glow emitting from the room.  She cautiously walked in, not sure what to expect.

There, on the bed, lay Naruto, holding the torn yet still bright orange uniform he grew out of years ago.  Akito snuck behind him and held him close to her chest.  He looked up as she nuzzled his neck softly.  No words were needed between them this time around.  The silence was more than enough to finally feel content in their shared space at long last.

[scully-eats-sushi]

Untitled MSIV Post-Ep Ficlet

Chapters 1 and 2

A little bit of angst, a lot of fluff. Rated PG-ish.

---------

Skinner had survived, they learned from two police officers guarding the scene. He had been taken by ambulance, unconscious, in very serious condition, to the closest trauma hospital. For the time being they couldn't do anything to help him, so they decided by unspoken agreement to head for home. They left Norfolk with heavy hearts, holding hands in the car until Scully fell asleep.

Mulder glanced over at her repeatedly as he drove. She was exhausted. He wasn't surprised that she had passed out so quickly on the ride home. He glanced over again at her beautiful face. Her face seemed to be full of pain. He thought she might be dreaming. Pregnant. Jesus. At 54 years old, she was pregnant and they were going to be parents. Again. But, not again. Painful. Leave it alone. 

How could this have possibly happened? What barren woman goes for the better part of two decades with barely a thought about birth control...? And then, at 54, to be miraculously pregnant? He couldn't fathom it. She was early into menopause, it was true, but how often did a woman her age get pregnant? 

As he turned onto the street that led to their house, he looked over at her again. God, how he loved her. He had missed everything last time. This time he would be there for every minute of it. And surely it would be even more critical for her to have support now, expecting a baby in her mid-fifties. His thoughts turned bitter. Didn't matter that he had missed it all, as it turned out. William wasn't even his. The pain. All these years, dreaming of his son. He had held it in, the longing and regret, to stay strong for her. He closed his eyes, teared up.

He heard a soft cry from Scully. Reaching the end of the driveway and parking next to the house, he looked over at her. She appeared to be in distress from her dream. 

"Scully, Scully, wake up."

"Mul, Muh..., Mulder!" She woke up with a start, looking around frantically. 

"Mulder, ohh God, William is alive! I saw him! I think he sent me a message. He survived and he came up out of the river. I don't know where he went, but he's alive! Our son is alive!"

"Scully..." he started quietly, sadly. "That's, that's wonderful. I believe you. I'm so glad he survived. But...he's not our son. He's your son."

"NO, Mulder. That bastard may have done something to me, somehow engineered it, but we still conceived William together. Oh my God, did you think I was telling you that you were not his father? Mulder..."

He couldn't believe it. They were both in tears. She leaned over, her forehead resting against his. 

"Mulder, when I was pregnant and you were gone, I considered every possibility. The timing with us was the only thing that made sense. I ran tests. Later, when you were on the run and everyone was coming after him, I did the DNA tests again. I can tell the difference between a brother and a father. YOU are William's father. He may have alien DNA from both of us but he's ours."

"God, really? Scully, I can't believe...I was so devastated. Are you sure?"

"You didn't believe the first time either. You came back from the dead and thought I was having a baby without you. Do you remember? Mulder, we still have William's hair in a vial. I will take it to Quantico and test it again for you if it will convince you. That is, if we still have jobs." They huffed out a little laugh. "But I am 100% certain."

"On the dock, I said 'What am I now if I'm not a father?'" 

"Oh, Mulder. I thought you were talking about losing William, like I was. I couldn't deal with the grief. I didn't get to be a mother to him for long enough. You didn't get to be a father at all. We both believed that eventually we might see him again. I was so...heartbroken at the thought that he was set up as an experiment that I wasn't clear. I still feel like I failed him. But he is alive. And he's no less ours."

"And you're pregnant?"

She nodded, crying. 

"How did this...? How could this possibly have happened?"

"I can't explain it. This is going to be so hard, Mulder. I'm too old. There are risks. But I want this baby."

"Scully, I'm going to be there for every minute of it this time. I'm going to be such a pain in your ass for the next nine months."

They both chuckled through the tears. "Closer to seven months now. Even less, maybe," she replied. "I think we might have gotten lucky on the first try. Or maybe the second..." They laughed. She looked into his eyes, leaned forward. They kissed once, slowly. Came back again. They kissed for several minutes, just sitting there in the quiet car. Finally, pulling back, she said, "I love you so much."

"I love you too, Scully. I still can't believe this. I'm not ready for this. But I intend to get ready."

"Good, cause I'm not going anywhere and we're doing this together." She yawned.

"You're exhausted. We need to go inside and you need to get some sleep. I will call the hospital and see how Skinner's doing. If you're up to it, tomorrow or the next day we can go and see him in Norfolk."

"Yeah, okay. Come on..." 

-------- The next morning, Mulder woke up and quietly went down the stairs. He wanted to serve Scully breakfast in bed. Yesterday had been long and exhausting, and she could use the rest today. He pulled the eggs out the fridge but then thought better of them. From what he remembered hearing some time years ago, the smell of eggs sometimes bothered women who had morning sickness. She had told him yesterday that she had hid the morning sickness from him for a few days because she didn't know if she was ill and didn't want to worry him. On a whim, she had bought a pregnancy test, but she hadn't expected anything. And then she was shocked to see a plus sign. 

Mulder decided that oatmeal was a safer choice for breakfast in bed, at least until she told him what would bother her and what wouldn't. He heard the upstairs bathroom door open and close, and then again a few minutes later. Guess he'd better get up there with her breakfast.

When he arrived in the bedroom with her tray, she was sitting half-propped up on two pillows, looking a little pale. 

"Scully, are you okay?" he asked, worried.

"Yeah, Mulder. It's okay. I just need to eat a little something to help with the nausea."

"How's oatmeal?"

"That's perfect. Mmm, thank you. Tastes good. Oh, and tea, too, thanks. I could probably use some saltine crackers on the nightstand here. We'll have to go out and buy some. They really helped the first time...eighteen years ago. God, what are we getting ourselves into?"

He chuckled with her. 

She finished up and then started to get up from bed. "Where are you going?"

"Relax, Mulder. I'm just going to brush my teeth.”

"Sorry, Scully. I guess I'm going to be nervous for a while."

"S'okay. I like that you worry about me." She walked over to the bathroom.

"I'm going to call the hospital soon to check up on Skinner," he called out to her from the bed, making sure she could hear him from the bathroom. She finished up. As she returned and approached Mulder, who was sitting on the bed, she unbuttoned her pajama top.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to seduce you," she responded with a grin.

"Really?”

"Really. I've missed you the last few days. And I’m feeling a little better right now." She smiled at him, biting the edge of her lip.

"Is it safe?" He touched her belly, looking down at it while she stood still between his legs.

"It's quite safe now. Nothing will happen to the baby. Now kiss me."

They sank back on the bed, the call to the hospital temporarily forgotten. -----------

Fluff to be continued...

This is my headcanon.

There, I fixed it for you.

[reflectionsforalostsoul]

Time just slips away...

TRIGGER WARNING

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TW Suicide

I’m just not really sure sometimes. Some days I feel okay, and the others I get sad again. My memory loss has affected me greatly. 

I will find a note on my phone or something on a piece of paper that I had deemed important, maybe a moment of inspiration or a message to Ronnie and I no longer have any idea what I am talking about. I found some lovely story notes yesterday that I had written a couple of years ago. I only know the time frame because I like to send myself messages on Facebook so I don’t forget things and happily I stumbled across messages where the names matched up to some of the notes in the notebook. I had been fretting because at the time I wrote the stuff down I had used abbreviations instead of names at times. One I saw repeatedly was MC, which I assumed stood for main character. A logical assumption, right? Yet another I couldn’t figure out. Repeatedly I saw a ™ referenced. Docs keeps correcting this to a trademark symbol (facepalm). 

It has been bothering me a lot. I had done a lot of work and I obviously cared about this character, but couldn’t glean from the notebook what it stood for. I hate writing things by hand, and evidently thought it wasn’t necessary to fully write it out. If I focus really hard I can vaguely recall the inspiration. It is of course mine, there are usually recurring themes in stories that I plan to write. But what did it mean?

Then today in messenger I had typed it out. Swype keyboards are so much faster than writing in pencil, thank god!  Taxi Man. How did I forget that? You obviously don’t know what Taxi Man means, so let me explain it to you, as best my memory can allow. 

My childhood was kind of rough. 

My family was quite poor and my parents didn’t have what you would call a happy marriage. My Father was abusive to everyone in the household. Both mentally and physically. When he was home sometimes it felt like being in a literal nightmare. You know that prickle of terror you feel on the back of your neck in a nightmare sometimes? Or those moments where you were so terrified that when you tried to scream no sound could escape your lips? It was like that sometimes. My Father was prone to mood swings, drank, and abused drugs. He had a myriad of problems, and refused to work. Just to give you some background on my state of mind when I first encountered the Taxi Man. 

So, to say I suffered from depression would be too simple. I was 14 years old and also dealing with normal hormonal changes. Ah..puberty. It will wreck you emotionally. Compound that with irregular periods and you have a recipe for disaster. 

I often thought of suicide. I didn’t really want to die, but I wanted my life as it was currently to end. I was tired of my life. Tired of the abuse. Tired of feeling alone. I cried constantly and did anything I could to avoid going home. My Father and I butted heads frequently. I was the only one in the house who dared stand up to him. 

This wasn’t what you think normal teenage drama is like. I was not rebelling because I wanted a late curfew, this was literally, “How fucking dare you put your hands on my Mother!” I had been terrified of him as a child, but there are only so many times that you can be hurt and pain still work as a fear tactic or parental deterrent. It wasn’t always in defense of my Mother either. Sometimes it was for my little sisters’ sake. 

My Father had quit working when I was about six and a half years old. He was trying to get disability for carpal tunnel, so my Mother got a job full time. My sisters were 2 years and 6 months old, respectively. If you thought my Father was going to change diapers or maintain the house while my Mother worked you’d sadly be mistaken. 

I am not complaining. I was never resentful. I had always been what my Mom called a Mother Hen. I loved my little sisters. So, I changed diapers, gave baths, brushed their hair. I dressed them, tucked them in, and tried to teach them stuff. How many times did I work on ABCs or counting? The situation was a bit confusing for them though. My youngest sister called my Mom frequently, and even the other made that mistake at times. I know it broke my Mother’s heart. She had missed out on the most important time for development in my youngest sister’s life, but there wasn’t anything to do about it. She had no family close by and I think was still trying to maintain appearances about her relationship with my Father. 

My Mother broke my heart. To me she was the most magnificent woman. I knew that I had the prettiest Mom. She had a beautiful singing voice. She was smart. Well read. But so painfully shy. She was that kind of person who couldn’t ever speak up for themselves. I remember being frustrated going to stores with her when I was young because she was too shy to ask an employee for help if she couldn’t find something. We would instead wander for what felt like hours until she managed to find the item she was looking for, or something that would just have to do. I am a protective person, it is just my nature, hence why Mom called me Mother Hen. So eventually I would stop a store employee and ask for her. She never would have asked me to do such a thing, and maybe this embarrassed her at times too. But to watch your parent struggle over such a simple task is heartbreaking. I couldn’t fathom why she had such difficulty speaking. 

But I loved my Mother and would do anything for her, so I decided to be her voice. I was always a rather take charge kind of person. 

So, of course I argued for her sake. I argued for the sisters that I loved in a deeper motherly way. I couldn’t stand how he treated them. It is one thing to pick on someone who can defend themselves, but my Mother and little sisters could not. That was our life. I could go on and on, but it is enough to give you an idea of why I had suicidal ideation. 

So, let me tell you how I met the Taxi Man. It was in a dream. The dream started with me sitting in the front passenger seat of an old fashioned Taxi. From the 1940’s, with pronounced fender flares. 

It was nighttime and we were traveling down a winding road with open fields for as far as the eye could see on either side towards a forest. In the driver seat sat an ancient man wearing a top hat. His shoulder length wispy grey hair was disheveled. A tag hung from the band of his hat, though I don’t know if it said anything at all. It was probably too old to have anything legible on it. His suit was tweed with patches on the elbows. He had a dingy white cravat that I imagine would have fluttered hauntingly if the windows had been cracked. Definitely someone interesting that you would have tried to absorb every detail of, but I was beginning to panic at not knowing how I got there.

“Where are we?” I asked, panic rising in my throat.

That is when he turned and reached towards me. That is when I saw it.

He had no eyeballs. 

His eye sockets were empty aside from small flames. You know that prickle feeling I mentioned earlier? It was happening now. He did not answer me, nor did he touch me. He instead reached past me, opened the glove compartment, and returned his hand to the wheel. I turn from him and look inside and am surprised to see a small television screen. 

It clicks on, and I am unable to look away, for I see myself in my own bedroom. I am sitting on the floor with letters scattered all around me. Mascara courses down my cheeks as I sob uncontrollably. I am unsure. I don’t remember this ever happening. Then the screen darkens again. That is when the Taxi Man spoke. 

“You killed yourself. That is why you are here.”

I quickly glance around and see that we don’t seem to be any closer to the forest, though the car has never stopped moving. The small television blinks back on and I see a funeral. There is a church, my family, and even classmates standing in groups talking quietly. My Mother stands by my casket crying into a scarf. She looks devastated and broken. My sisters are holding her hands, but their heads hang down. They do not lift their gaze even when someone stops to offer condolences. 

Then I see my ex-boyfriend walk in by himself, carrying a white rose. He pauses at the back of the room, the prospect of my casket seeming too much for him to handle. 

“It has not been decided yet.”

“What hasn’t?” I gasped. 

“Where you are going. You’ve killed yourself. I cannot take you to Heaven. So you will have to wait while it is decided. It is going to feel like an eternity.”

Again I noted that the car was not any closer to the forest, though the car kept a steady place. It suddenly made sense.

“Is this purgatory?”

The Taxi Man just nodded, his lips curving slightly. Was it an attempt to smile? I didn’t sense any malice from him. Just eternalness, and maybe… Maybe this was his way of trying to comfort me. The thought of an eternal wait, with your very soul hanging in the balance is quite frightening. 

It was an important dream to me. It felt so real. Like I had been given a warning. I thought of the Taxi Man frequently throughout the years, even sketched him a couple times. I just cannot forget him. I even dreamt of him more recently, though the interaction was not always pleasant. So, how did I not realize what ™ stood for in my notes? It is a frustrating thing. Though I never stay sad for too long. I always forget and move on to some other train of thought. Thanks for listening.

[assbuttyourlife]

When We Were Young - Chapter Thirty

Pairing : Misha/OFC

Warnings : Language, Fire, trauma, PTSD, family members death (including child), therapy, flashbacks (not in every chapter), injuries, cheating. Sexual content. Violence. Non Con/Threats of rape. Long fic. Angst, fluff, Smut. Mention of suicide.

Words : 3522

Summary : After her grandmother’s funeral, Lily must return to the place she lived in when she was young and has to confront the ghosts of her past. She will run into an old friend that she thought was lost forever.

This story is also available on AO3

Tags : @jhudawnareeves

Drop an ask if you wanna be tagged :)

CHAPTER 30 - DEJA VU

Northfield – June 29th 1990

The sun just appeared at the horizon, offering a stunning show of colorful waves among the foliage.

In the cabin near the pond, Lily had just woken up, gently pushing Misha's arm away from her waist so she could get up and admire the beautiful morning light. She yawned and looked down at him, he was still sleeping silently. She smiled... he was so beautiful. She was so damn happy.

She walked out of the cabin barefoot, stepped on the cold and moist wooden pier, walked all along and sat at the very end, putting her feet in the chilly water.

It was one of those summer mornings, at the time of the day when the air was still a bit cold and humid on her skin, and when the nature was waking up. The frogs and the crickets were getting more silent, but the birds were chirping louder all around her already.

It was safe and peaceful. She was so, SO damn happy.

She stretched, extending her arms as high as she could, then she laid back down on the pier, observing the colorful sky above her with a smile, breathing the fresh air deeply. It would be a great day today, there was not even a single cloud to stain the perfect sky.

“Stunning view!” she heard Misha's sleepy voice behind her. She sat up and looked back, he had just woken up and was slowly walking towards her on the pier, barefoot too, wearing only his boxers, his eyes still red and puffy from the night, his hair in a great mess as always, but damn was he beautiful! Anybody else would've wondered who the hell was that boy and what he was doing in this property looking like he was out of the woods after months living like a hermit, but for Lily, no one could make her happier at this moment, and there was no one else as handsome as he was in her eyes.

That thought made her laugh.

“Yeah.” she smiled at him. “I wanted to see the sun rising to celebrate the beginning of summer vacation. It definitely is stunning.”

He walked right behind her and crouched to quickly kiss her lips.

“I wasn't talking about the sky.” he confessed in a whisper.

She scoffed and turned to face him, allowing him to take her in his arms.

“Lily, you're cold! Go get dressed.”

“Says the half-naked guy... I'm fine.” she protested snuggling in his warmth.

She was dressed… kinda. She was wearing a T-shirt and her panties, that was supposed to be enough for a summer day. Misha rubbed his hands over her bear arms giving her goosebumps.

“Come on Lily, you wouldn't want to get sick for summer, would you?”

She huffed a laugh. “I'm a big girl, don't worry, daddy.”

“You teasing brat.” he gently pinched her waist making her giggle. “Are you ready for today?”

She sighed. She'd forgotten about today...

“Do I really have to do this today?” she whined.

“Lily... you promised me.”

True... she promised she would tell her mother that they were engaged. But really she didn't want to. Not because she didn’t love Misha enough to make it official, it was quite the opposite actually, but she was terrified because she knew exactly how it would turn out, what she would say (or scream…), and it would probably end in tears, with both women pouting, not talking to each other for weeks because she’s insouciant and blinded by love and too young and blabla blahh.

“Can't we do it at the end of summer? Before going back to school... if I'm grounded at least it won't ruin my vacation. She will get insane, I know it.” she asked him hopeful, still hidden in his chest.

Misha pulled away to study her. He knew Lily’s mother would not be surprised since actually, she already knew and was just waiting for her daughter to trust her enough to talk to her.

“Why would she? She knows me, right? I know I'm not the ideal step-son for her daughter but still... or... maybe... is it because you're having second thoughts? Or you said yes just to please me but you weren't serious... you can tell me, you know. I'll understand.”

There... she did it again. She hurt his feelings because she was a coward…

“Nooo!” she framed his face with her hands, looking into his saddened blue eyes. That same dark, deep, hurting sadness she always saw in him since he was nine years old. The feeling he wasn't worthy, or good enough to be his friend, boyfriend... or husband. That shameful, self-loathing look that always made her want to slap herself for being so selfish.

“Misha, no.” she declared with a firm voice, squeezing her hands a little on his face to prove her point. “I am serious about this, and I definitely want to be your wife.”

She pulled his face closer to kiss him deeply.

“I love you. Don't you ever doubt that.”

He swallowed but finally smiled. “I love you too.”

She sighed closing her eyes. “I'm just terrified of her reaction. That's all.”

“You sound like she's evil... don't you think you're overreacting here?”

He knew the answer to that question already. Lily was the champion of overreaction. The queen. Plus he definitely knew that Mary was already aware of his proposal since Mr Adams went to tell her when he surprised him carving the tree. She was totally okay with it, just waiting for her daughter to talk to her. Obviously she wasn't that trustful at the moment...

“Why wouldn't she be happy for you? For us!”

“Because we're barely sixteen, we even haven't finished high-school yet, and she will say it's too young to take such a huge commitment. Ugh! I can already hear her in my head!”

“And that's why we're waiting after college. No big deal. Do I have to remind you that your parents got married at 18? And that you were born when she was only 20? Maybe you should… I don’t know… trust her a little more?”

He was right. He was so right... How come Misha was always right? That wasn't fair! Still she couldn't find the guts to tell her today, the day was too beautiful for that.

“Okay... I'll tell you what: she has to drive Ryan and Sasha to Greenfield today, but tomorrow we've planned to go dress-shopping together. I'll tell her then, deal? Not today. Please Misha... not today.”

She hugged him tight, fearing his reaction too now, but was relieved when she felt him sigh in defeat.

“Fine. But if you don't talk to her tomor-”

“I will. I definitely will. Cross my heart!” she smiled and kissed him one more time, slowly leading him back to the cabin.

She didn't know that this beautiful morning would be the last she would spend in Misha's arms for a very long time. She couldn't figure that this would be the last day she would see her mother, that it was her last chance to tell her she had found the man she would spend the rest of her life with before her whole family, her house, her dreams, her hopes would turn into a nightmare of flames and ashes.

**********

Northfield's cemetery –  June 29th 2017

When she dreamed about her wedding day, Lily pictured it at the farm, she of course dreamed Misha would be the one, and her family would be here with her, happy for them.

But dreams don't always come true, or at least not exactly the way we picture them.

She didn't think a second she would be here, in front of her family's grave, the day before she would marry Misha, to bring flowers and talk to them through a tombstone, more than two decades after they got engaged.

She wanted to say a million things, mostly that she loved them and she was sorry, but she felt a bit stupid here, standing alone before that... piece of stone. She wanted to tell them how much she missed them, how she would give everything to have them here with her tomorrow, how happy she was to marry Misha but how devastated she felt not to have them with her to celebrate.

Misha's family was already here. But hers... she had none. Not a single soul left to walk her down the aisle. Oh how she wished she could grip her dad's arm tomorrow! How she wished her mom and nanny could be here to get her ready, to take pictures... but no... she would have no pictures of her with her family on her wedding day.

And Ryan... how would Ryan look today? Would he be married too? She could even have nieces or nephews today if only...

“Hey.”

She jumped from her thoughts.

“Sorry, I didn't wanna scare you. You okay?” Misha walked next to her and Lily immediately fell in his warm embrace, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

“Yeah... yeah I'm good. It's just in moments like these that-”

“I know. I wish they were here too.”

She looked up at him and smiled tenderly, her chin resting on his chest, her arms firmly squeezing his waist.

“You were right, Misha... I shouldn't have waited that long back in 1990. I would give anything to be sixteen again and tell my mom we're getting married.” she confessed. “I would love to hear her scream at me that I'm too young and that I need to think about my education first.” she laughed bitterly. “She would also have yelled when I would've told her you'd want to be an actor... my god I can hear her saying it's not a safe job, that it's reckless and dangerous to live like that...”

Misha chuckled “reckless? You're loaded! You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth! Where the hell is the risk?”

Lily feigned being shocked, her mouth hanging open.

“Who's gonna walk you down tomorrow?”

“Sorry….” she smiled and kissed him teasingly. “No spoiler”.

“Okay I get it, I'm too curious. Do you need more time here or do we go back now? My dad can't wait to meet you.”

She looked back at her family's grave and sighed, brought two fingers at her lips before brushing them against the golden letters carved in the tombstone. “Hagen's Family”.

“I love you”. She whispered to them and looked back at Misha with teary eyes. “Let's go.”

He rubbed a hand on her back affectionately and led her to the car.

Time to meet papa Krushnic.

***

Lily always thought Misha got his goodness side from his mother, but meeting his father made her realize both his parents were true angels on earth.

She met Richard Krushnic at the farm, where everybody was staying until the big day tomorrow. He was so nice it was almost hard to believe. They talked for a long moment in the backyard, just the two of them, mostly about Misha's childhood.

That was a delicate subject to speak with Misha when he was young. Lily knew he was hurt by the fact his parents were so far away from each other, not talking, and the few times they did, they were mostly fighting.

Maybe that's why Misha was so close to Lily's grandfather, always at his house doing any kind of work or out in town to go shopping with him, or outside just hiking. He needed the father figure, and he knew it was impossible with his own father living so far away from Northfield. He just needed the stability, the “normalcy” of her family. At least until Mr Hagen died when they were 13, which literally broke Misha's heart.

Richard even apologized to her for not being here when his sons needed him, but he was immensely grateful her family had been.

“You're here now, that's what matters, right?” Lily had said when she saw his eyes getting red. “I know he’s grateful for that.” She gave him a hug and just like that, Richard understood why Misha was unable to stay away from her, and why his life crushed when he thought she'd died.

She never realized, but Misha had quite a big family. Thank God the farm was restored enough to allow a lot of people to stay. Lily and Misha were staying in the cottage.

Once more, it made the void of her own family even bigger. Richard was here with his wife and his two daughters, Misha's step-sisters (that she also never met before, just saw a few pictures.) No need to say the whole property was full with kids running everywhere, people greeting and laughing all around her. It was even a bit overwhelming.

Darius was here with his wife and kids, Sasha of course (who was naturally Misha's witness and best man), with his family too. Jensen, Jared, and Cliff, were of course present with families and kids, among a few other friends that she didn't even know yet. Even Vicki stopped by to leave West and Maison at the farm and went to stay in town with Rachel despite Lily's protests. She would be here tomorrow though, and again, she thought there couldn't be a more amazing woman on earth.

On Lily's side though… it was only Katie and David. With no kids yet... but Katie was now 7 months pregnant so it was a matter of time. And that was it right now... two people. Three if you counted Dr Dorville who was supposed to arrive on the evening. Three people that changed (and probably saved) her life after she left this place completely broken.

Four if she counted Darius, who was one of her best friends too when she was young (despite the fact that he was always messing with her and Misha!) so technically he was here for both of them.

“And finally I found the bride. Everybody's looking for you.” Katie's voice resonated among the quietness of the pond where Lily went to find some peace.

She looked up from her reverie and smiled at her best friend, her sister, walking towards her on the decorated pier. There were flowers and ribbons everywhere, among lights that were not lit yet, because this was the place Misha and her chose to get married. It made sense, it couldn't be somewhere else. Lights that of course Lily insisted would NOT be candles despite Katie's vigorous protestations!!

When she stepped near Lily at the end of the pier, she laboriously sat next to her to sink her feet in the water too.

“Oh my God this was not easy with that freaking whale belly.” she panted making Lily chuckle. “Eww it still smells like vase in here.”

“I kinda like the smell now.” Lily confessed. It reminded her of good times.

“You’re aware Misha is looking for you everywhere and he's ready to call the cops, the FBI and the US Air Force, thinking you disappeared again, right?”

Lily rolled her eyes “And he wouldn't think of me being here? Come on it's the first place he would check, you're exaggerating Katie.”

Both women turned at the same time when they heard Misha's voice behind them:

“Barely, I just hung up with Mister Secretary of Homeland Security. He’s on his way.” he slowly walked toward the women, an amused look on his face.

“Ladies...” he greeted them with a nod and crouched down “am I interrupting?”

“You are!” Katie whined “I just got here and it took me five minutes to sit down here so don't you dare tell me I have to go for you two to talk alone or I swear to God I'll cry.”

Misha chuckled “Take it easy Katie, I just wanted to make sure everything was fine since nobody saw her for a while.”

Lily placed her hand on Misha's “I'm fine. I just needed time away from the constant screaming of kids. I'll be back soon.”

“Okay. I'll be in the farm. Everybody's ready for dinner. Love ya.”

“Love you too.” he left a quick peck on her lips before getting up and walking away from them.

“Aww you twoooo!” Lily turned to look at Katie who was now... crying?

“Katie! what's wrong? Are you in pain? Don't you dare deliver your baby too early on my wedding weekend!”

“Nooo I'm fine! You two are just so cute I can't! Stupid hormones are making me emotional! Ugh, I'm not gonna survive tomorrow...”

Lily scoffed looking down at her feet swaying lazily in the water. “I might not either.”

Katie's look darkened.

“Lily-Bee what the hell? Did you just lie to your future husband saying you’re fine when you’re actually not?”

“No I just... Everything's great it's so not usual. I can't help thinking that if Misha and I were torn apart 25 years ago it was maybe because we were just not meant to be together, that something will come up between now and the wedding and it will ruin everything, that Vicki will stand up to stop Misha from ruining his family, or that Mr Adams will show up from behind the trees to kill someone else... I just wish I could stop thinking for 24 hours, that's all.”

Katie burst out laughing.

“Oh my God and I'm the one exaggerating? Do you hear yourself?”

She grabbed her friend's shoulders so she would face her and looked at her in the eyes.

“Listen to me closely now: You were torn apart because a psycho in love with your mother was blinded by hate, rage and jealousy. That very old psycho is now stuck in a wheelchair and can't move so he won't show up. That shit is over. There are no people more made for each other than you and mister cute butt Mish-Mish over there, and I won't even talk about Vicki because that woman is ridiculously perfect so you can relax and shove your fear up your ass.”

she rolled her eyes before Lily replied.

“Yes!! That's exactly what I mean! She's ridiculously perfect so why in the-”

“Oh no no no! Stop it now!” Katie stood up (again very laboriously) “I know exactly what kind of crap you're gonna say and I won't let that happen. Misha chose you when he was nine fucking years old, and that won't change, period.”

“Actually-”

“Nope! Not a word! Now you're coming with me...” she grabbed Lily's arm to get her up. “We're going to go to the farm, eat too much, drink wayyy too much too... except I can't but you'll do it for me, then you'll go back to the cottage with your fiancé and I don't even wanna know what you'll do to him and after a good night sleep you'll come back here in your pretty dress to marry him and spend the rest of your life happy. That's all you have to think about right now. I won't allow anything else, trust me.”

Lily smirked, taking her best friends hand in hers. “I knew you were the perfect maid of honor.”

They both chuckled, Katie put her arm around Lily's shoulders and they headed to the farm together.

***

It was nice having so many people at the farm after so long. They had to put tables outside because it was really too many people to stay inside, plus it was a nice summer night so they thought they would enjoy the yard and the stunning view it had to offer, especially when the sun went down and the fireflies' lights started illuminating the trees around them.

After dinner, most of the adults were a little drunk (Darius a lot!), and the kids were over-excited to go camping all together near the woods right behind the farm.

Misha and Lily went back to the cottage after everyone went to sleep, and no need to say they were more than happy to celebrate their last night being not married without West and Maison constantly trying to go in their bed.

They both fell asleep late that night, but they were happier than ever, knowing they would be finally married a few hours later.

And at 4 am that same night, Misha's eyes flew open when he smelt a very familiar scent... smoke. And just like that, everything went spiraling again. He woke Lily up with a super panicked voice knowing his children were out there sleeping in tents, and when she smelt it too, her heart stopped and she knew she was right earlier when she was talking to Katie, when she was terrified something bad would ruin everything.

Obviously, sadly... she was right.

[lthrotter217]

Friendship and My Life

As I looked at my life, I have come to realize that I really have very few friends.  I have lots of acquaintances.  I have friends at work, at church, and in my activities, but I have no friends that I can spend time with on a regular basis.  The friends that I have had in the past; however, they were shared friends with my ex-partner.  Most of them were much closer to him than they were with me.  Over the past few years, about 95% of those people have drifted out of both of our lives and neither one of us sees them or communicates with them, let alone spend time with them.  While my ex seems to be ok with that, I am not.  However, my perception of my friendship with those people is that those people were friends with us because of him and not because of me. I was just along for the ride. And that ride was when I was most happy. I had people in my life.  That is what I dreamed of.

I am not an overly out-going individual.  I find it difficult to have a conversation with people until I get to know them. But getting to know them is difficult because I don’t deal well with starting or keeping conversations going. It’s like a vicious circle of loneliness.  Now I can keep conversations going using online chat apps, sometimes to a fault. I tend to get started and don’t know when to quit.  Some respond well to that, others get really annoyed and quit talking.  Again, a vicious circle.

My partner and I are no longer a couple.  We decided to “redefine” our relationship about 3 years ago and become best friends instead of life partners.  Was I devastated?  Not incredibly.  I have watched my ex become a different person than the person I fell in love with. Although we still share a lot in common, those commonalities have dwindled to where the things we do share are no longer shared together.  That is what I miss the most about our relationship…sharing activities and friends together.  My biggest fear?  Losing him completely.  It has seemed that every friend that I have ever had either drifts out of my life or I lose contact with them.

About 2 years ago, I decided that I needed to begin to embark on a friend-finding mission.  It has been an extreme struggle.  What were my “qualifications” for a friend?  I wanted people who were gay.  I wanted people who shared some of the same interests as I do.  I wanted individuals who I could talk to and hold a conversation with them.  I wanted people who allowed me to be myself.  I wanted people who would accept the task of bringing me out of my shell.  I also wanted friends who were younger than I was.  I wasn’t sure of what that meant, but have discovered that the best fit for me is probably 5 to 15 years younger than I am. (so in the range of 35 to 45. I would turn down friends that are older than I am either, but I also don’t want to be left alone again later in life.  I know younger doesn’t necessarily guarantee that, but logic tells me that the odds of that happening would be diminished.

I also made a decision that I wanted to become a more sexual individual.  I also decided that I wanted friends that I would be able to share all of the above things with and also have sex with.  You may ask why?  My partner had imposed a rule within our relationship:  “You do not fuck friends.”  I always found this rule ludicrous, but I went with it because of my love for him.  Now the challenge was to prove that it could happen and be a good thing.

As part of this “sexual conquest,” I determined that I wanted to explore things that I had never experienced.  I decided that I would explore the leather community.  This was due to many factors, but mostly because of the fetishes that were involved in that community and their openness to accepting HIV-positive individuals.  I figured this would be a way for me to discover some of the things I wanted in my life and a way to begin adding things that I have always wanted in my life.

Here’s what I have experienced thus far.

Friends.  Yes, I have made a few, however none are really within the age range I want.  Most are about 20-25 years younger.  A couple are within the range I have found to be ideal.  However, here’s the rub.  Most guys that age are only interested in friends for what you can give them or how you can benefit them.  They only contact me if they want something.  And that something isn’t sex!  Most of the time it is money or a ride somewhere.  And what about the sex thing.  Have we had sex?  Yes, but never more than once.  I am unclear if it is because the sex was that bad or if it is just lack of interest.

The sexual conquest?  Almost like the friendship thing.  God knows I have tried.  I’ve tried being subtle.  I’ve tried a more forward approach.  Yes, I have sex more now than I have in the past 10 years, but I have never had sex with anyone more than twice.  Here again, is it bad, or do they lose interest.  God knows, typically I don’t lose interest.  I’ve even had one guy call me a “bad fuck” to my face.  Well, I wasn’t the one that had to stop and take a Viagra before finishing!  I guess the best part of it all is in the last 9 months, I have had sex with about 15 different men and the longest time I have had between times is about a month. There was two-day period around the 4th of July where it was with 4 guys!  Some people may be turned off by that, but when you consider where I was before, that is amazing.

Still, no regular takers. :-(

Also, most of the sex I have had is when I am out of town.  I look for sex mostly on apps or sites.  Scruff, Grindr, BBRTS, A4A mostly.  All are the same.  I get more attention from guys that live 75 to 5,000 miles away.  No one locally even talks, let alone fuck!  I’m starting to think that it is this area that is hindering me.  But with my job and life, I’m pretty much stuck here until I retire, which is anywhere from 8 to 11 years from now. 

I have tried to break into the leather community alone.  No luck. I have tried asking for people to help me.  While I have had people offer, they aren’t in my area.  The distance makes becoming part of the community difficult if not impossible.  Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard if I were more out-going, but I’m not so convinced that is it either.

Why does it have to be this hard?  It has done very little for me other than raise my frustration level even higher than it already was.  It has undermined my confidence, which wasn’t real high in the first place.  I have had a couple very good confidence builders, but they are usually short-lived once the experience isn’t repeated.  While I am grateful for the fact that I am getting out there more and I am having some great sex (or at least great to me…which may be a sign that I have only known bad sex before!), it still is not meeting up to my expectations. How hard should it be to find a regular fuckbuddy or a friend with benefits.

I don’t know what the answer is.  There are times I have thought about going back into my sheltered world of chastity. That thought usually lasts about 5 minutes, because I don’t want to go backwards.  The last 8 years of my relationship with my ex was sexless.  And in the time where our relationship was open (which was about 13 of the 14 years!), I had sex on average once every 6 to 9 months.  Definitely don’t want to go back there.  

I will trudge ahead. But it is the times of frustration that I need to get past.  What triggered this time?  I met a guy about a month ago.  We have met up twice…a new personal record.  We were supposed to meet again today and I was stood up. A glimmer of hope snuffed out?  I hope not, but I have the feeling it is done.  And when this happens, what do I never get?  An explanation or constructive criticism as to what is missing or what needs to improve.  Given that these are gay men I am dealing with, that will probably never, ever happen!

[gadgetgirl71]

Amazon First Reads for July 2020

I’m so excited about this months Amazon First Reads as Prime Members are able to pick not just one book but TWO books this month. Also this month there are Nine books to choose from not the usual Eight. I really an excited about this. It’s always the small things that I enjoy. So what books will you choose?

This months books are:

Historical Mystery

Stealing the Crown by T P Fielden,  Pages: 320, Publication Date: 1 August 2020

Synopsis: Britain is at war—but the greatest threat to the Crown might be within the Palace walls.

London, 1941: Major Edgar Brampton is found shot dead in his office in Buckingham Palace. All signs point towards a self-inflicted tragedy, but when Palace authorities hurry his body away and order staff to stay silent, fellow courtier Guy Harford’s suspicions are raised.

While the outside world faces the onslaught of war, within the Palace walls a curious mystery unfolds. Rumours swirl about Brampton’s relationship with the Queen, and there’s talk of other plots involving those closest to the King.

To get to the bottom of what really happened, Guy joins forces with some unlikely allies—Rodie Carr, a beautiful East End burglar, and Rupert Hardacre, a postman with a past—but time may be running out…for him, for the King, and for Britain. Someone has their eye on the crown, and they’ll do anything to get it.

Can Guy solve the case before more blood is spilled on the royal carpets? Or will he be the next victim?

Contemporary Fiction

Rival Sisters by Louise Guy, Pages: 413, Publication Date: 1 August 2020

Synopsis: Tragedy pushed them apart. Can troubled times bring them back together?

Hannah and Nat were teenagers when their mum died in a terrible accident. The pain of it tore them apart, creating a rift that they’ve never been able to bridge. Neither is able to understand or appreciate her sister’s perspective, each quick to be riled by the other.

Both women have been indelibly shaped by the tragedy. Hannah is controlling, desperate to protect her loved ones in a way she failed to do with her mum. Meanwhile, Nat is forever running from the ‘selfish daughter’ label that she was marked with after the accident.

Now secrets in both women’s lives threaten to bring them down. Help may be close at hand, but neither can see it. But with life falling apart and the truth in short supply, can they finally see past their differences to the bond that could bring them together?

Thriller

Her Final Words by Brianna Labuskes, Pages: 343, Publication Date: 1 August 2020

Synopsis: A shocking thriller by the bestselling author of Girls of Glass.

It seems like an open-and-shut case for FBI special agent Lucy Thorne when Eliza Cook walks into the field office. The teenage girl confesses to murdering a young boy. Disturbingly composed, she reveals chilling details only the killer could know. Beyond that Eliza doesn’t say another word, leaving a vital question met with dead silence: Why did she do it?

To find the answer, Lucy goes to the scene of the crime in the small Idaho town of Knox Hollow. But Lucy’s questions are only mounting. Especially when she’s drawn deeper into the life of the victim. Then a combing of the woods yields unsettling evidence that Eliza isn’t the only one in this close-knit rural community with secrets.

Getting to the truth is becoming Lucy’s obsession. And it’s a dangerous one. Because for the good folks of Knox Hollow, hiding that truth will take more than silence.

Suspense

Trust No One by Debra Webb, Pages: Publication Date: 1 August 2020

Synopsis: A double homicide and a missing woman lead a detective to unearth disturbing secrets in this gripping thriller from USA Today bestselling author Debra Webb.

It’s the worst possible time for Detective Kerri Devlin to be involved in an all-consuming double-homicide case. She’s locked in a bitter struggle with her ex-husband and teenage daughter, and her reckless new partner is anything but trustworthy.

Still, she has a job to do: there’s a killer at large, and a pregnant woman has gone missing. Once Devlin and her partner get to work, they quickly unearth secrets involving Birmingham’s most esteemed citizens. Each new layer of the investigation brings Devlin closer to the killer and the missing woman, who starts looking more like a suspect than a victim.

But just as answers come into view, the case twists, expands, and slithers into Devlin’s personal life. There’s a much more sinister game at work, one she doesn’t even know she’s playing—and she must unravel the truth once and for all to stop the killer before she loses everything.

Book Club Fiction

The Last of the Moon Girls by Barbara Davis, Pages: 397, Publication Date: 1 August 2020

Synopsis: A novel of secrets, memory, family, and forgiveness by the bestselling author of When Never Comes.

Lizzy Moon never wanted Moon Girl Farm. Eight years ago, she left the land that nine generations of gifted healers had tended, determined to distance herself from the whispers about her family’s strange legacy. But when her beloved grandmother Althea dies, Lizzy must return and face the tragedy still hanging over the farm’s withered lavender fields: the unsolved murders of two young girls, and the cruel accusations that followed Althea to her grave.

Lizzy wants nothing more than to sell the farm and return to her life in New York, until she discovers a journal Althea left for her—a Book of Remembrances meant to help Lizzy embrace her own special gifts. When she reconnects with Andrew Greyson, one of the few in town who believed in Althea’s innocence, she resolves to clear her grandmother’s name.

But to do so, she’ll have to decide if she can accept her legacy and whether to follow in the footsteps of all the Moon women who came before her.

Crime Thriller

White Out by Danielle Girard, Pages: 361, Publication Date: 1 August 2020

Synopsis: From the bestselling author of the Annabelle Schwartzman series comes a chilling story of a woman with a forgotten past and a town with dark secrets.

After surviving a car accident on an icy road in Hagen, North Dakota, Lily Baker regains consciousness with no idea where or who she is. Scattered Bible verses and the image of a man lying in a pool of blood haunt her memory.

The same night of the accident, a young woman is murdered and tossed in a dumpster. Kylie Milliard, Hagen’s only detective, doesn’t immediately recognize the victim, but Kylie soon discovers that Lily and the dead woman share a dark past…if only Lily could remember what it was.

Lily and Kylie both want answers. But Kylie has to play by the book. Lily has to play it safe. And the more Lily learns about her identity, the more she fears the truth.

Historical Fiction

Across the Winding River by Aimie K Runyan, Pages: 301, Publication Date: 1 August 2020

Synopsis: A woman unlocks the mystery of her father’s wartime past in a moving novel about secrets, sacrifice, and the power of love by the bestselling author of Daughters of the Night Sky.

Beth Cohen wants to make the most of the months she has left with her elderly father, Max. His only request of his daughter is to go through the long-forgotten box of memorabilia from his days as a medic on the western front. Then, among his wartime souvenirs, Beth finds a photograph of her father with an adoring and beautiful stranger—a photograph worth a thousand questions.

It was 1944 when Max was drawn into the underground resistance by the fearless German wife of a Nazi officer. Together, she and Max were willing to risk everything for what they believed was right. Ahead of them lay a dangerous romance, a dream of escape, and a destiny over which neither had control.

But Max isn’t alone in his haunting remembrances of war. In a nearby private care home is a fragile German-born woman with her own past to share. Only when the two women meet does Beth realize how much more to her father there is to know, all the ways in which his heart still breaks, and the closure he needs to heal it.

Memoir

The Son and Heir by Alexander Munninghoff, Translation: Kristen Gehrmn, Pages: 279, Publication Date: 1 August 2020

Synopsis: A prize-winning Dutch journalist’s unsparing memoir of growing up amid the excesses, triumphs, and devastation of post–World War II Europe.

What can a son say upon discovering that his father wore a Nazi uniform? Reporter Alexander Münninghoff was only four when he found this mortifying relic from his father’s recent past in his attic. This shameful memento came to symbolize not only his father’s tragically misguided allegiance but also a shattered marriage and ultimately the unconscionable separation of a mother and son.

In this revelatory memoir, the author confronts his parents’ complex past as he reconstructs the fortunes and disillusions of an entire family upheaved during the changes of twentieth-century Europe. The Münninghoffs were driven by greed, rebellion, and rage. An embattled dynasty, they were torn between the right and the wrong side of history. Their saga haunted Alexander’s life for the next seventy years.

Only in reconciling with them can this man find the courage to move forward as son and heir to the startling legacy of a flawed yet grand tradition.

Children’s Picture Book

Clover Kitty Goes to Kittygarten by Laura Purdie Salas, Illustrator: Hire Nakata, Pages: 41, Publication Date: 1 August 2020

Synopsis: Clover Kitty does NOT want to go to kittygarten! Although she might like a friend to play with, kittygarten feels overwhelming for a sensory-sensitive kitty like Clover. And when she arrives, it is exactly as she fears: her classroom is too loud, the lights are too bright, and everyone comes too close. So Clover throws a fit…and decides to quit kittygarten. But when a classmate comes to check on her, she begins to reconsider. Maybe it’s time for Clover to give kittygarten another chance.…

*** Which books will you choose? I think I know one of the books that I’m going to choose but I can’t make my mind up about the second book. What do you think? ***