#I’ve watched this movie like five times already and I’ve cried every single time

[hello-galad]

Sometimes a family is two gay knights and their thousand year old shapeshifter trans daughter 💗

[cuteniaarts]

Fanny, my sweet, beautiful girl

17.11.2012 – 14.04.2019

[erodasfishtacos]

harry adores yn with his entire being and i can tell that she loves him just as much but the poor thing is just so scared, and by what you have showed us she has a fair reason to have struggles

Through Hell and Back

warnings: cheating, mentions of domestic violence, this could just be overall triggering if you have experienced trauma or family struggles.

this is a very important blurb to understand dynamic and history of the characters.

PLEASE let me know your thoughts.

—

Harry’s out at a bachelor party for his friend, Jack, at a noisy bar downtown where there is a mechanical bull and half-naked waitresses.

His phone rings at two-thirty in the morning, he already knows who it is and why she’s calling him so late.

He steps outside the noisy bar, “Hi puppy, y’alright?”

Harry already knew she wasn’t.

Her voice is shaky, “Er, are you still out at the bachelor party?”

If he says yes, she’ll just try to say have fun and was just calling to check in - a lie because she felt like such an inconvenience at all times.

“No, just got home,” He lied smoothly, he could hear her trying to hide a sniffle - she must have had a bad dream.

Every since she started trauma therapy, they’d been getting worse, as she worked through her struggles with a therapist.

—

“I-I don’t want to g-go in,” YN whimpers as she sits in Harry’s passenger side outside the clinic, “I can’t talk about it.”

“Baby, you need to do this. You need to talk to someone who’s trained to help you, okay? You promised you’d try it f’me,” He hums, rubbing a thumb over her wet cheekbone.

She shakes her head stubbornly, “It’s all going to come back.”

“Yes, it will. Because you didn’t work through it, you repressed it. There is a difference, okay?” Harry’s heart feels like it’s being ripped in two as YN looks like a caged animal.

YN squeezes Harry’s hand so hard it hurts but he doesn’t mind, he can feel her fear being shared through the rough touch.

She wipes her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater, “Please, H. I don’t want to remember.”

He sighs softly, “I would never force you to do something you don’t want to do. If you really want to leave, we can.”

YN searches his eyes, sees his sadness and she knows she has to push through because she loves him so much, “Will you walk me in?”

“Of course, s’fucking proud of you. My strong girl,” Harry praises, kissing the top of her head, and shutting off the car.

He walks her in, watches her as she hesitantly goes back in with her new therapist, and sits in the waiting room for the hour and a half until she comes out.

He does that every week without miss.

Drives her, walks her in, sits in the waiting room, and then drives her home.

She doesn’t usually talk much after the sessions, her eyes swollen and puffy which is a telltale sign she cried during the appointment.

Harry holds her hand on the ride home, sometimes draws her a bath or tucks her in for a nap under his covers.

One day, after therapy, they crawled into his bed together. She hadn’t said one word since she walked out of the office but she looks tiredly at Harry.

“Why?”

Harry frowns, “Why what?”

She hides her face into the fluffy pillow, words mumbled, “Why do you want me? I’m so broken.”

“Hey,” Harry responds loudly, pulling her up and giving her a serious look, “You are not broken. Even if you were, I’d love every broken piece, okay? I want you because I’m so in love with you it doesn’t make sense.”

YN shakes her head, “I don’t deserve you. You-you have to drive me to therapy every week, leave work early, have to make it up the next day.”

And well, his heart breaks a little because she truly believes that.

Harry grips her jaw, gently, “If you need to go to therapy for the rest of your life, I’ll drive you until I’m ninety. I’ll drive you five days a week if you need it.”

He continues,“I don’t deserve you, sweet girl. Strongest, bravest, most resilient person I’ve ever met. You are my soulmate and I believe that wholeheartedly.”

“I want to nap now,” She whispers, crawling back into her shell where she’s safe from the world, from facing her fears.

Harry just stares at her, the girl he’s had a crush on since fourth grade, the girl he’d been in love with since ninth.

When she felt broken, well so did he.

—

“Mum, I want to do more for her,” Harry cries to his mother one night at dinner after school.

“I know you do, Harry. There is only so much you can do. She has parents tha-“

“Those aren’t parents, mum! You know that!” He shouts angrily, “I need to do more for her. Help her!”

Anne looks at him with a soft, understanding expression, “You’re doing all you can, Harry.”

—

He was still doing all he can.

“I wa-was wondering if you wanted to come over and watch a movie?” YN acts casual despite the tremor but he won’t call her on it - on the phone at least.

“I’d love to pup, I’ll be over on a tick,” already walking away from the busy bar.

Harry can hear the relief in her voice when she says, “Okay, I’ll see you soon.”

When he uses his key to open the door, she sat on her couch with all the lights in the house on, not one off.

“Oh, pet,” Harry murmurs, all the blinds were drawn shut and he knew she’d already triple checked that the windows were locked - despite the state of the art security system he had installed for her.

“Um, so are we feeling a scary movie or romcom?” She ignores his words, picking up the remote, and pulling up Netflix.

He flicks a couple of the bright lights off until it’s normal dim and he sits next to her on the couch, taking the remote and turning off the television.

“Talk t’me,” Harry coaxes, unraveling her from the heavy weighted blanket, and tugging her into his chest.

“M’fine,” YN lies on a choked whimper.

“Y’safe, you know I’d never let anythin’ happen to you . Please puppy, tell me,” He’s not to manly to beg for her to open up.

He allows her to nuzzle her face into his neck, “He cam-came back an-and he -,” her voice drops, “broke in here and I wo-woke up as he was opening my door.”

Harry holds her for a very long time that night.

-

With Harry and her therapist’s constant encouragement she’d been able to be more open and up front with Harry - which made him feel unexaplainably proud of her.

Anna almost fucked everything up, all the hard work without even realizing it.

It was nearly three in the morning this time.

Harry was stuck at Anna’s house with her and her friends for a movie night.

He’d gotten up to go to the bathroom when his phone rings.

Anna sees who it is and picks it up, “What do you want? Harry’s busy and doesn’t have time for you right now. You know it’s not all about you, right?”

Then she hangs up, all of her and her friends giggling at how she just treated YN.

Harry is unaware of the call for a few minutes when he gets back until he gets a text from YN.

I’m sorry I bothered you. I am okay. Have fun tonight x

He scrolls through his phone in confusion until he sees the call, he glares over at Anna, “Did you answer my phone?”

She has a cocky look on her face, “Yeah, I told YN that the world doesn’t revolve around her and to leave us alone.”

All the friends are giggling - but that comes to an abrupt halt when Harry stands up, knocking over the little table of drinks with his anger, “Where the fuck did you get the idea that you could touch my phone, let alone answer it?”

All of them are quiet.

He scoffs, “Now all you annoying prats are going shut up? Get the fuck out of my way,” he orders to Anna who’s pouting.

“C’mon, it was a joke. Don’t leave,” She whines, grabbing at Harry’s arm which he instantly rips out of her grip.

“Don’t touch me. I can’t fuckin’ stand you,” He tells her honestly before storming out of her house without a look back at her teary face.

-

When he arrives at YN’s house, a book is automatically been hurled at the front door when he opens it, then another.

“Hey, puppy, stop tha’. S’just me, you’re okay. S’just me,” He coos, rearming the security system to make her feel better.

She is only in one of his shirts with the company logo on it and soft cotton boy shorts, hair frizzy atop her head.

“Y’have another nightmare?” Harry asks softly, all the lights were on again, every single one.

YN clenches her jaw, “No.”

He hardens his expression too, “I was in the bathroom when she answered that call. As soon as I found out, I came over here. Don’t be sour with me.”

“I didn’t have a nightmare.”

“I know y’bloody lying because your legs are still tremblin’. Now cut the bullshit and talk t’me, we’re not going backwards,” Harry tells her seriously, with all firmness he can muster.

“I love you.”

It takes him aback. YN told him how much she adored him but it was something that didn’t come easy for her.

To hear it flat out, well….he nearly almost melted on the floor into a pile of goop.

“I love you too, puppy.”

She takes a deep breathe, “It’s been that same nightmare, but it’s not really a nightmare? It’s a flashback to…”

YN swallows before she continues, “Remember when….when I ran from my parent’s house to yours and my dad came and found me…”

Harry doesn’t want to remember but he does.

—-

“Harry, he-he just pulled up,” YN cries, peeking out his window, “I don’t want to go home.”

“Harry, he’s screaming at your mum. I have to go.”

“Harry, I have to go before he does something stupid. I’ll be okay, I promise.”

“Harry, don’t cry. I’ll be fine, he’s just really upset. I’ll just deal with it and it will be over before we know it, okay?”

——

“I remember,” He wavers like he normally doesn’t, feeling like a helpless sixteen year old again.

It was moments like this were no matter how hard he wanted to be angry or scream at her for making their relationship so difficult, that he couldn’t be.

How could he blame her for her commitment issues?

Why she struggles to trust?

Why she never feels good enough?

“I’m sorry to bring that up-“

“Do not apologize,” Harry interrupts, “I want to know everything you experience or feel no matter how traumatic or upsetting.”

YN despite her own struggles, when she heard Harry say things like that…well she knew full heartedly that he loves her with no conditions.

She knew this was so hard on him, “I am so in love with you, H.”

His eyes automatically soften and he reacts like he’s being praised. His face lights up without him even knowing it does.

“I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen, thank you for being my person. I appreciate everything you do for me.”

It was something she had been also working on in therapy, expressing gratitude- specifically to Harry.

And it works because Harry actually starts tearing up, eyes watering with emotion, “I love you. I’d walk through hell and back for you.”

He would and he has.

[leascorner]

j.b.b. | Marley

Summary: Eventually, Bucky gave his deepest secrets away and you let him know yours. Her name was Marley.

Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x single mom!reader

Warnings: Mention of past and present relationships, parenting, mention of food

Word Count: 3.7k

a/n: This is my first story posted on here. I’ve been writting for +12 years now but for the last couple of years, I couldn't finish a single story. Turns out Bucky Barnes was all I needed to get over my massive writer’s block. Feedback is greatly appreciated. (Also, english is not my native language so if you spot any grammar mistake, please let me know!)

Masterlist

It all began with his friend, Sam.

On a night they were out for drinks, he had made it his mission to find someone for Bucky. Someone or anyone for the matter. He talked to everyone in the bar that night, while Bucky drank his beer, sitting at the counter. When it was clear enough that nobody there that night would keep grumpy Bucky company, Sam turned his attention on the dating app his friend had downloaded on his phone some weeks ago. He probably went through a dozen of profiles, sometimes showing the phone screen to Bucky, to what he would just respond by rolling his eyes and drinking some more beer.

That was until Sam showed him your profile. Bucky stared a second longer to the picture displayed on his phone screen than for the others. He couldn't tell what that was: the smile on your lips, the wrinkles at the side of your eyes or simply your eyes; but he couldn't get his eyes off it. Sam immediately started typing a message for you to what Bucky obviously protested. He did not need company because he was just fine on his own.

Despite his super-soldier abilities, he wasn't quick enough to take the phone from his friend's hands. The smile that appeared on Sam’s face annoyed Bucky even more. "What are you afraid of, though guy?" Sam had asked and Bucky eventually backed off, letting him do whatever he was planning on doing. There was no point in stopping Sam. He knew you wouldn't be interested anyway... To be honest, who would be? Bucky got his phone back along with a smirk from his friend. There was no answer after that, and Sam eventually found another topic to annoy the heck out of Bucky.

When he woke up the next morning, your reply notification was patiently waiting for him. For a second, he thought of deleting it, without having a look first. What did he have to lose? Gathering his courage, he opened it. Your words were as genuine as your smile and it made him grin like an idiot, though he made a mental note to later murder Sam for his poor choice of pick-up line. It took him the whole morning to be able to type an answer and another afternoon to press the ‘send’ button. It was the first text of many. Eventually, a lot of texts turned into calls; that turned into meeting up in your favorite French bakery; that turned into movies and restaurant dates.

    This was nearly one year and a half ago.

Your relationship with Bucky was cautious and steady. He liked how you would give him his space, but still being right there for him. He liked that you let him stare at you in total awe or that you always had small kind thoughts for him like when you made his eggs the way he preferred in the morning and that everything was so simple - obvious even - by your side. Eventually, Bucky gave his deepest secrets away and you let him know yours.

Her name was Marley.

If Bucky was being honest, finding out you had a two and a half years-old daughter was quite the shock. Not that he couldn't have seen that coming; you would always make plans, your handbag was always full of snacks and hand wipes and for some reason, you would never be available between five and eight p.m. That was also what he liked about you. The stability.

The idea of being involved in a relationship with somebody that already had a child did scare him off. If he decided to continue the relationship, it would not only be a matter of breaking your heart in the process – and well, maybe his too - but breaking a child's heart too. And that more than anything, he was refusing to assume the responsibility, but he owed you that much. You knew his deepest secrets and still, you didn't run away from him. Worse, you trusted him to be around your child.

You both had a lot of discussions about him meeting Marley - Bucky even seek advice to Sam. And as for the rest of your relationship, you took it slow. It started with Bucky showing up to your Sunday walk in Central Park, feeding up the ducks and sharing snacks. You also spent some time at the carnival where he would watch you two on the carousel – sometimes joining the ride too - and he would help Marley win at pick a duck or buy her popcorn. Eventually, he would spend more time with the two of you. It started with spending at least one evening per week at your place, making dinner while watching you playing with Marley in the living room. One evening turned into two, three, five evenings per week. He still could step out if he needed. You still could spend time with your daughter where he wasn't there. You still spent time just the two of you, when Marley was asleep at night or he would take you on date nights. The routine you three put in place was nice, but Bucky wasn't planning on taking Marley’s dad place. God, he would never see himself as a dad and Marley already had one - though in Bucky's opinion, he would not be awarded father-of-the-year.

    Today, Bucky was picking Marley up from daycare.

He had done it a million times already, but this time was a little bit different. He was doing it on his own. The babysitter stood you up and you were stuck in an endless one-day meeting. You had called in utter panic, asking him to pick Marley up from daycare and taking care of her until you would be home. He had assured you he would do it and it would be fine. Now that he was standing in front of the building, he was doubting himself. He didn't know if he could do it on his own.

Another shaky sigh and Bucky entered the building. The childcare workers greeted him when he showed up at Marley's room. She was sat at one of these tiny tables making some kind of collage crafts. He planned on waiting for her to finish, just staring like he always did, before announcing himself, but Marley spotted him the second his figure appeared at the door.

"Bucky!" Marley cried out, leaving everything behind and running towards him.

"Hey Mar-Mar," he smiled. She always seemed happy to see him and Bucky wondered if she would eventually grow tired of him being always around.

After they hugged each other, Marley was called to put away her crafts and Bucky encouraged her to go do it. In the meantime, he collected her stuff - her panda backpack, shoes, and coat - so he could get her ready to leave. And he did just that when she got back to him.

"We are taking the train home. I'mna carrying you, is that okay?"

She wrapped her little arms around his neck in response and he lifted her up from the floor. After sharing goodbye to the childcare workers, they were heading home.

    On their way to the station, Marley explained in every detail what she had done at daycare that day; Bucky was listening carefully, sometimes asking questions - Carol, she is the one with the curly hair, right? Was Mark mean to you again? - but mostly he was just nodding along. They made it to the station just in time to take the 5:17 p.m. train. It was rush hour and Bucky mindfully chose to hop on one of the cars at the end of the train - the ones he knew would be the less busy at this time of the day. He had only seven stops, so he didn't sit and stood against one of the train windows. By that time, Marley had finished reporting on her day, and she was just watching around, smiling at anyone she would make eye contact with.

After the second stop, her eyes caught the sight of the dog tag around Bucky's neck. She fiddled it through his T-shirt, probably wondering what that was, before taken it out to have a closer look. In her tiny hands, the metal tag seemed to be huge. She looked up at Bucky, with bright eyes and he swore, he would do anything for these eyes.

"What is that?"

"Uh- " Bucky wasn't sure how to explain it in a way a three-years old would understand. "-Every soldier has one. It uh- has my name on it and some other information."

"Is it if you get lost?" she asked, her little eyebrows raised high on her forehead. She did understand a lot of the world around her for her age. "Mommy put a card with her name and her phone number in my bag."

"Yeah, it's something like that."

Marley smiled at him and returned her attention on the letters’ reliefs on the metal. By the fourth stop, she was resting her head on his shoulder while he was still firmly (but not too much) holding her with his left arm. She kept holding his dog tag in her tiny fist and was patiently waiting.

"She is very sweet," the old lady sat on the seat in front of them said to him before leaving the train.

He nodded shyly and looked back at the little girl in his arms. Marley looked so much like you. Her face had still some baby features, she just turned three after all, but she had the same nose and her eyes had the same color as yours. They were the same piercing eyes that when they’d look at him, he felt like they could read his soul. And she did not just look like you. She had also some of your habits and personality traits. She would always be smiling to people she didn’t know. She was always saying ‘thank you’ or ‘sorry’. She was obsessed with any kind of animal; the Sundays walks would last forever if she could pet all the dogs she encountered.

The rest of the ride was quiet, and Bucky got off the train on the seventh stop as planned. At the station, people turned on them as they passed. Maybe this was an odd sight: a man in combat boots, dark jeans, and a black leather jacket, carrying a small child in his arms. Especially knowing the kid in question was wearing white leggings, a red fluffy coat, and a stuffed panda backpack. Bucky didn't mind and continued his way to your place.

    Marley stayed quiet for the five minutes’ walk to your place, but once Bucky had turned on your street, she wriggled to be freed of his hold. Once her feet touched the ground, she directly ran towards a car parked not far away. She squatted down and started clicking her tongue. A ginger cat immediately came out from underneath the car.

"Careful," Bucky called out. He knew it was not recommended interacting with stray cat as they could be sick with all sorts of disease. And to be fair, it got him a little worried the cat was getting this close to Marley. He could already see her getting bitten by the cat, getting rabies, and losing her arm, or worse: dying.

"That's Gus, he lives at number 7," she said pointing at the building they stopped in front. It had the number written on it.

Gus started rubbing itself against Marley's shins and she gently petted his back. The cat then went to rub on Bucky's combat boots, also greeting him even though they never encountered before. And it continued his way to the building's porch, where it lazily lay down.

"Mommy said we could have a cat when we get a house."

"I've got a cat," Bucky stated and Marley cried out in excitement. She asked him about a hundred questions. What was its name? What was it looking like? Was it friendly? Was it sleeping in his bed with him at night? Bucky never failed to answer one of her questions and they talked about that until they made it in front of your apartment door.

    Marley was already on her way to her room when Bucky turned around after locking the door. She had removed her shoes and coat on her own and left them behind without putting them away like you would always request it.

"Uh-uh, we go wash your hands first, okay?"

After that was done, she ran to her room for good this time. Bucky went back to the living room and focused on what he could do to help you. He knew you would get home exhausted from your day at work and he did not want to have you do all the chores you usually did. It was the least he could do.

Somehow, your place was always tidier than his, and he lived on his own. In the kitchen, he found breakfast dishes in the sink and the dishwasher full of the dishes that had been cleaned the night before. That was where he would get started. He put away the dishes easily; he had been around your kitchen a lot those last months and he knew exactly where everything was. He even knew where you were hiding away the chocolate and candies; somewhere Marley didn't have access to.

"Hey Bucky, can I have snacks?"

A look at the watch sitting on his right wrist, she had still a good hour and a half before dinner and he replied positively. He wiped his hands on the dish towel resting on his shoulder and took one of these bamboo sectioned plates he just washed. He was reaching out to the first cupboards in front of him when it suddenly appeared to him, he had no idea what he could give her.

"What does your mom usually give you?" He asked Marley, turning back to her.

Marley shrugged. "Carrots and hummus." And Bucky swore this kid was eating healthier that he ever had.

He started by the fridge, looking for anything he could give to Marley. Thankfully, she wasn't a picky eater so it would be easy for him. Tonight's dinner was in it, along with some vegetables and fruits. He chose grapes because it was the only food, he could see himself eating at that time of the day.

"Grapes and uh-" he looked at the cupboards right next to the fridge "- crackers?"

Marley nodded. Bucky prepared it all on her plate, making sure there was just enough for her to be full but not too much so she would still eat dinner, and handed it to her. She carried it carefully to the living room, Bucky following behind. She had laid out all her crayons on the coffee table next to her Paw Patrol coloring book. He knew about this cartoon because it was the only one Marley ever wanted to watch, she was literally obsessed with it, and she did make him watch some episodes with her. He knew that, when she was playing alone in her room, she would usually pretend she was saving the world with them.

Bucky sat on the carpet, next to Marley, stealing one grape from her plate. She threw him a death glance but offered him some more if he would help with the coloring. He happily complied.

    Before dinner was normally bath time. Thankfully, you had said over the phone you would deal with that in the morning. For some reason, Marley did not like baths. A little bit of water in her eyes or ears was too much for her to handle and he wasn't sure he could deal with her being so upset on his own.

He still got her changed in her pajamas - she obviously chose the one with the dalmatian puppy from Paw Patrol you had agreed on buying a few weeks ago; washed her face with a cotton pad and some cleansing lotion, brushed her hair and tried the best he could to tie them in a low ponytail. You would normally braid them for the night, but this was not something Bucky mastered at all - he made a mental note to watch some tutorials on YouTube to learn though.

"Will you and mommy get married?" Marley asked out of nowhere while Bucky was carrying her back to the kitchen to have dinner.

"I don't know," he said, confused. "Why do you ask?"

"I prefer you over my real daddy," Marley admitted. And it broke his heart. Bucky knew how her dad forgot about her third birthday and missed most of his custody days lately. He didn't really understand how somebody could have a child and knowingly decide not take care of them anymore.

The child in his arm was so precious. It amazed him every day how much she could comprehend of the world around her. She was smart, creative, kind. She knew what she wanted, would be very stubborn about it and would do anything to get it – you always said you didn’t understand where she got her fierce mind and Bucky laughed every time because he knew exactly from whom she had gotten it: you. You did such a good job raising her on your own. He also knew you would always choose her over him, and he had to admit, it made him fall in love even more with you.

"Even if I'd marry your mom, I still wouldn't be your daddy officially."

"To me, you would," Marley concluded as if it was as simple as that.

Living with you two permanently. Marrying you. Bucky never thought of it. He liked how this relationship was working: the kindness, the trust, the love. He loved the movie dates with you, the Sundays walks, and the evening just the three of you. He loved how simple it all was and how it made him just happy. Happiest he had been in a long time. And he wondered if he wanted more. The way his heart was fluttering in his chest made him realized, he did. He didn't know if he was ready though.

    Back to the kitchen, he put her down on her seat before getting the casserole of potato gratin out of the oven. He put a small portion in her plate, next to some chopped carrots and apple sauce he already prepared. He put it down in front of her and sat next to her.

"Will you eat with mommy?"

"Yeah, is that alright?"

She nodded, rubbing her eyes. They had stayed coloring her books a little too long and it was nearly her bedtime. Smiling softly, he encouraged her to eat. She did while asking some more questions on his cat in between each mouthful. How old is it? Why did you name it Alpine? Has mummy already met it? Do you think she'll like me? Turned out this little one never run out of question.

After dinner, Bucky gave her a small portion of chocolate from the special cupboard and they agreed it would be their little secret. Then, he carried her to the bathroom to brush her tiny teeth. It was started to be late for her and she was clearly fighting against sleep, the lack of it upsetting her.

"I want to see mommy," she cried, lips trembling and eyes full of tears.

"I know Mar-Mar, she'll get there soon," Bucky tried to comfort her. You hadn't text yet, meaning you weren't on your way still. He knew Marley would be asleep before you got home. "We can read a book in your bed while we wait for her, yeah?"

Marley nodded and let Bucky carry her to her bed. She had her head rested on his right shoulder the whole time. She crawled under the covers the moment her body was dropped off on the bed. She let Bucky choose the bedtime story and he chose the one he knew she liked so much.

He laid beside her gently and she immediately reached out closer to him. He wrapped his right arm around her, and her hands somehow found his dog tag again. A small kiss on her forehead and Bucky started reading the book in his left hand. Marley was listening carefully, helping him by turning the page.

At the end of the story, she was fast asleep against him, his dog tag still in her tiny fist. Bucky did not dare moving, afraid he would wake her up if he did. He observed the small child against him and listened to her soft breathes. She looked so peaceful and it made him thought of the way she had welcomed him into her life. Just like you, she had taken him as a whole; with his trauma, his insecurities, his quietness, and his staring habits. And now, she had him wrapped around his little finger. He knew deep in his guts he wouldn't let anything happen to you or your daughter. He realized that now. That made him think some more: maybe he was ready after all. And this time, he would not let happiness slip away from him.

  Bucky stayed like that until twenty minutes later, when you showed up on your daughter’s room doorstep. You looked exhausted yet still radiant. A smile had formed on your lips at the sight in front of you. It made you melt right on the spot.

"Hey," Bucky greeted you softly.

You came closer, walking on your tiptoes, careful of not waking up your daughter. You laid besides them, kissing your daughter little fist, and tucked yet another strand of hair behind her ear. You looked back at Bucky, who was intensely staring at you. His left arm was already wrapped around your shoulders, bringing you close. You kissed his jaw, making him smile gently. "Thank you for taking care of her. Did it go okay?"

"More than okay." He kissed your forehead while you snuggled closer to him. His heart could burst of the feeling of having you two near him forever.

He wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

[mandareeboo]

SU Music Rankings

Bc I can and I wanna start some Disk Horse rip. These are all in order of preference, with explanations, etc. It’s a long bitch. That said, I’m not counting little short jingles or small joke songs like Little Butler. This is the meat and potatoes of SU music- just under 30 songs. I might do the rest if people like my takes lol.

I scored it mostly on three bases- how dear it was to my heart, how much/often I relisten to it, and also what it means to the plot. That said, little fun songs don’t automatically go farther down than big, plot-heavy songs either! It’s a strange little balance.

Special Note: I don’t dislike any of this music! I love SU and that includes its bumps and glitches. I just pick favorite children lol.

1.) Change

Was there ever a more Steven moment than when he wiped the blood off his face and kissed it into sparkles? I think not. 

If “Be Wherever You Are” is an ode to young Steven, then this is teen Steven’s. Talking about change, and how much and how little it can do. How he holds his arms up for Spinel to hug him, so trusting. How he seems able to just. Break into soft tears at will, and not to be manipulative- it’s just his kind nature. The warmth in his voice. Fuck yesssss.

2.) Change Your Mind

This song is only fifty five seconds and it’s EVERYTHING to me. It really felt like someone was speaking the words I’d always held deep inside of me, unsure of how to say. It feels like a goodbye to someone who never really loved me. 

As much as I enjoyed Future, if this was the finale of SU, I would’ve been perfectly okay with that.

3.) Drift Away

This song gave me legitimate shivers the first time I heard it, and it still haunts me to this day. Spinel stayed, and waited, and all she got was a transmission thousands of years later. Fuck.

4.) Here We Are In The Future

THE MOVIE IS SU AS ITS BEST AND I WON’T BE SWAYED ON IT. Steven being a teen who loves his weird family but is growing just a bit sarcastic to their drama. The adorable love he and Connie share. His slow realization that he will always be working, always have things to do, is both somber and real. The Crystal Gems won’t be safe with one epic battle. They’ll be safe with years of hard work and love. HIS LITTLE HANDSHAKE WITH AMETHYST.

This is a helluva bop and a great way to summarize the main character’s backstories.

5.) Let’s Only Think About Love

Did ya’ll know that Zach Callison killed his throat with that last note? He gave his all for this performance in a vocal range he no longer comfortably do and by god did it SHINE. The FLAIR. The FORESHADOWING. All of the Gems all being awkward about Rose and Steven trying to bring them to the present. Peridot having a mini-existential crisis in a cute yellow dress. I love Zach Callison’s normal singing voice but man is that a fucking bop. Nothing will ever beat it.

6.) Here Comes A Thought

This bad boy helped me out a LOT with some mental issues I was dealing with in high school. I was unmedicated, unsupervised, and full of anxiety. I’d have break downs when I tried to speak about certain things. I couldn’t function. This song inspired me. It helped me feel okay with my intrusive thoughts.

And the episode! -chef’s kiss-. Once again bringing up the morally gray area of training child soldiers. Connie expanding her social group. Steven’s trauma hauling ass in that second half. The ANIMATION. Stevonnie’s gorgeous singing voice. GOD yes.

7.) It’s Over Isn’t It?

Just barely squeaking above Stronger Than You, this ballad is everything gorgeous. The whole episode is. I think Mr. Greg stands in the top five of my episodes for the entire show. It even got nominated!

There’s just so much about this song that I love. The gentle melancholy of Pearl’s voice. How the crew had to redo the shots for this bit bc Deedee went so fucking hard. The hard cuts between Pearl, remembering the love of her life, and Steven, who has begun to feel like he took her away. I’d recommend this song to anyone, regardless of what they do or don’t know about SU, simply bc it tugs so many heartstrings of love, loss, and responsibility.

8.) Stronger Than You

Did you realize this episode aired SEVEN years ago? This bitch was what got me into SU! Hearing about Ruby and Sapphire made my little gay heart so happy inside, and then getting a whole song confirming that they were a couple, that their love powered the strongest Gem on the team? Aaaaaaaaa

To this DAY I get excited when I hear Estelle start singing. This song is timeless. This song will live in media history. God I fucking love this song.

9.) Other Friends

I’m not the biggest musical person, so I hadn’t heard of Sarah Stiles before her casting as Spinel, but JESUS CHRIST the lady went hard. She went SO fucking hard. Sarah Stiles started on 100 and somehow just kept CLIMBING. You can just hear the sheer manic energy building in her voice, the anger and resentment. 10/10 Sarah Stiles is a queen.

10.) Independent Together

This made the list entirely bc the crew was like “you’re gonna get a himbo ass Steven-Greg fusion singing with Opal while Garnet flies across the moon on Lion while floating” and I am forever thankful to them for it

11.) Who We Are

Bismuth deserved more songs. ‘Nuff said.

12.) Peace and Love (On the Planet Earth)

It Could’ve been Great is EASILY one of my favorite s2 episodes. I love the entire concept of this song. Of Steven making music to reflect how much Earth means to him and his family. Of him teaching Peridot some self-care. Also Peridot’s singing voice is really cute and squeaky. 

I know it’s silly, but I would’ve really enjoyed a flip around of this in Future! Like Peridot reminding Steven how much he loves music, that he needs to take time to relax for himself, maybe with a new verse or just a remix of the original song!

13.) Something Entirely New

I watched this episode as it aired, and I legitimately almost cried. I love Charlyne Yi’s voice so much ya’ll- her raspy, not perfect singing voice against Sapphire’s deep soothing lull is great.

And to have Ruby and Sapphire’s meeting be the way it was- for Ruby to bemoan Sapphire losing Homeworld, to being stuck with a single Ruby, while Sapphire is a noble who has always been taught everyone in her “caste” is vitally important (and has, in her own mind, taken that to mean every Gem, as she should) and how they come together and make each other happy. Good shit good shit.

14.) I’m Just a Comet

The fact that Greg’s music career never really blasted off pisses me off to this day bc Tom Scharpling’s voice is fucking BUTTER. Also the song really feels like a jab at his parents now that we know the kind of dynamic he had growing up. “This life in the stars if all I’ve ever known” is definitely him wiping away their existence after reminding them (and himself) the things they used to say about him.

15.) Do It For Her

This episode. This fucking episode. This episode got me permanently hooked on SU. I’d just binged season 1 and was kinda meh about it overall after the bop of Stronger Than You. “Oh,” I thought to myself, foolishly, “I’ll probably just casually watch this from time to time.”

Like three days later Sworn to the Sword aired and that was it. I was hooked! Pearl’s gentle training song turning darker and darker, Connie’s accompaniment from nervous to determined to fully into such a toxic mindset. The fact that SU had the BALLS to discuss the repercussions of training child soldiers, now and later. This episode was everything to me, STILL is everything to me.

Six years and well over 100 fanfics written later, I think it’s safe to say this show swallowed me whole and never let go.

16.) System/Boot.pearl_final(3)

I debated putting this on the list because it’s not anything crazy important, just a way to show things are Wrong, but I had to do it entirely bc Pearl is so damn SALTY.

Like telling us about the Gems makes sense, she felt like she was given a duty, but she went so damn petty. WHY is that Ruby alone. Gross. This Amethyst is a trash dump. Wtf are you people.

17.) Full Disclosure

This episode really feels like a turning point for SU. Before, the show had its dark moments- but now we’re in the thick of it, and it’s not going away. Full Disclosure felt like an rebuff to the idea of returning to any normal we’d established in season 1. Gems are actually a giant species now. Gems tried to kill us now. There’s this Yellow Diamond bitch who got namedropped. Something about a Cluster. 

The song itself is BALLER, with its ingenious use of Steven’s ringtone and photos as he tries to decide whether to clue in Connie on all this nonsense. Meanwhile we, the audience, already know damn well Connie about to yeet some common sense into him.

18.) What’s the Use of Feeling Blue?

I’mma admit it- I’m a Yellow Diamond stan. I’ve always loved her- her anger, her poise, her hardworking nature. I actively argued against the “Yellow Shattered Pink” theories back in the day. But, man, when this arc leaked? I got so overexcited I was too jittery to watch it for like two days. It’s easily my favorite arc of the series. The sheer alien nature of the zoo, the Famethyst, and absolutely Patti Lupone’s beautiful ballad. Goddamn. Yellow singing to Blue to try and help her regain her old status, the warble in her voice as she reminds Blue she misses Pink too, the movement of the bubbles as she talks about attack. It gives me shivers to this day. FUCK.

19.) Tower of Mistakes

This is, fun fact, that only SU song I have completely memorized. The story itself is kinda funny! See, we lost internet at my house for a solid 5 to 6 months when these episodes aired, so I only got a very brief window to view them all. But this was the first Amethyst song in a long while, and I didn’t want to forget it! So I keep replaying it in my head for ages. And that’s still definitely a thing.

Anyway will never not be sad that this entire song was about making it up to Garnet for Amethyst’s perceived slights with Sugilite (which was a two-way road), only for Garnet to pressure her into fusion later when pissed and never discuss it again bc Garnet probably never thought twice about it and Amethyst has the emotional openness of a clam that’s just been told its ugly. Helluva way to make someone feel like shit, G. Helluva way to bottle that shit, Ames.

20.) On the Run

I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times: Amethyst! Needed! More! Songs! 

The dichotomy between Steven’s play and Amethyst’s honest desire to run away from home is so well-done, especially when you consider a lot of Steven and Amethyst’s actions are playing together. The song is also near and dear to me simply bc it’s my favorite Amethyst episode to exist (well, maybe second to What’s Your Problem, but not by much). Moments like these are all the proof I need that they were right to fuse first.

21.) Be Wherever You Are

This tune really just feels like an ode to who Steven was as a kid. Trapped on an island with no way home, and he’s just happy to be with his friends. The stars are beautiful and not oppressive. Also that one animatic with Lars and the Off Colors playing in the Homeworld Kindergarten to this music was iconic and made this song get stuck in my head for a solid month.

22.) Familiar

I ADORE how the crew use bright neon colors to show how alien Homeworld can be. And Steven recognizing that the Diamonds treat him how the CGs used to, and how prepared he is to “fix” a broken family. It’s a soft, gentle tune about melancholy. Also the Pebbles are beautiful.

23.) Let Me Drive My Van Into Your Heart

Such a cute little love ballad, but every time I listen to it now I just imagine the heart attack Rose must’ve had at the line “And if we look out of place/Well, baby, that's okay/I'll drive us into outer space.” like there’s a Vietnam war flashback if I ever heard one

24.) What Can I Do?

I’m kind of neutral on this one? Rose and Greg both have great voices, but the song itself lacks many lyrics. I think it was definitely a good way to show Rose’s flaws in thinking.

Also, I’m shocked they managed cram that much vaguely sexual innuendo into two minutes, followed by how Not Hetereo that dance between Rose and Pearl was, and not get their asses chewed by it. You go guys.

25.) Cookie Cat

I love a lot of the vibes this song has. The lyrics are so damn prophetic, but they also sound like the kind of weird 90s commercials I grew up on. It’s been like two decades since I saw the Shirley Temple commercial but I’ll be damned if I don’t remember “Animals crackers in my soup! Monkey and rabbits loop-de-loop.”

26.) Giant Woman

I am. NOT the biggest fan of Steven’s original singing voice. I feel bad saying that, since it was just Zach Callison as a kid, but he never jived well with me for some reason. So I wouldn’t listen to this on the fly. 

The song itself is still really good though, with all sorts of fun animation of Amethyst and Pearl being bitchy to each other. It’s a bit sad in hindsight to see tiny Steven trying to get his moms to get along. Ahh, season 1.

27.) Strong in the Real Way

This song has SUCH a strong start. Pearl reflecting on Sugilite’s problems, but the show making sure to show us that Pearl’s lack of enthusiasm towards her also lends itself to jealousy as well as just general malaise. How much she cares about Steven, and wants him to grow up strong. 

And then Steven just kinda. Ruins it? I appreciate his enthusiasm for tryna bulk up but to take what was starting as such a rich, personal song and broadcasting it to random strangers just makes me a bit sad. Almost a bit angry on her behalf?

28.) That Distant Shore

I KNOW this is gonna create some discourse, but I’m just not the biggest Lapis stan. I love her voice. I love the visuals of the song. And I get why she felt afraid and needed to flee.

But Lapis never got to take responsibility for her own actions. And, in the end, the song feels hollow to me- because we all know she’ll never talk to anyone about it, know she’ll burst back in and destroy the barn, and no one will ever question it. I like Lapis a lot, but I feel like her arc never was fully finished. She never got help. She never learned to feel safe.

29.) Dear Old Dad

I’ve yet to meet a single human being who likes this episode tbh. There’s some great discussion about what kind of parent Greg is from it, and what kind of dynamic he has with the Gems that he felt he had to fake an injury to hang out with his son. Honestly the first half was fine and dandy. It’s just that then they Greg just went out of his way to drag Steven away from missions and such. It never jived well with his character before or after.

Also, is it just me, or does Zach himself sound like he hates the song as he sings it? There’s no passion or heart in his voice. It sounds like they told him to read off cue cards and he did. Tom Scharpling’s best attempts didn’t save this one for being a skipper. But the episode, unfortunately, isn’t, so it gets a spot on here.

[all-my-love-for-harry]

Not the future you want.

summary: You don’t want kids and that’s a deal breaker for Harry, until it isn’t.

word count: 3.3k

warnings: angst, happy ending tho.

a/n: long time no see!! I missed writing for y’all SO much but lately i’ve been so busy, here’s a little something i wrote after finishing all my homework, please tell me what you think!

You can find the rest of my masterlist here.

///

Y/n didn't know how they got here.

Not even ten minutes ago they were wrapped around the covers of Harry's bed after making love, both still naked and sweaty from the previous activities. Harry was showering her with kisses all over her face, paying special attention to her nose and lips. The silence that covered them was comfortable, warm.

Right now all she felt was cold, iced silence filling the room as Harry stared at her with startled eyes. Suddenly, the once safe space they had to feel comfortable being naked in front of the other, was long gone and replaced with an awkwardness in the air. Y/n pulled the covers up to her chest, sitting down on the bed as she watched Harry do the same.

"What did you say?" He said. Although he heard it the first time she said it, he wished with all his being there was some kind of misunderstanding and he got it all wrong.

"Are you upset?" She asked cautiously. "Because you sound upset."

"No, I'm... Fuck, Y/n, I'm not upset." He passed a hand through his face. "Excuse me for being a little offended you don't want kids with me."

"I don't want kids with anyone, Harry." She said, growing upset. "Don't take it personally." Y/n started to look for her clothes that currently were laying on the floor, knowing what was going to come.

"But... baby, why? wouldn't it be nice to have mini us running around?" He sounded out of breath like someone just kicked him right in the stomach. He figured he could at least try to convince her otherwise. "Imagine how cute our babies will look. They'd have your adorable nose, maybe my eyes..."

"H, I'm sorry... kids have never been in my plans, it isn't something that I want." She said slowly, not knowing how Harry will take it.

"Wouldn't you willing to at least try?"

Sighing, she shook her head. "I don't want to do that to my body. I've worked so hard to look the way I do and, honestly? Pregnancy takes a toll on you both mentally, and physically and I don't want that." Y/n got out of the bed dragging the covers with her as she grabbed her clothes and started to get dressed.

At that moment Harry didn't know that, what came out of his mouth next, would either save his relationship or end it for good. "That's so... shallow." He practically spat.

"Yeah? Try carrying a human being inside of you for nine months!"

"If I could I'd do it since you're being this selfish!"

"Am I being selfish?! Listen to yourself! I don't owe you any explanation regardless of what I want and don't want to do with my body!" She finished putting her clothes on, silently thanking herself for wearing a dress and make it easier to get dressed in between all this mess. "I am not a baby machine, Harry. I don't exist just to get pregnant and be a fucking mother. If you want a baby so badly, then find someone who does as well!"

"But I love you!" He said, not realizing he was being childish.

"Then we can get a pet! It's the same responsibility."

"I can't believe you just compared a human being to a pet, Y/N! Don't be so stupid!" He threw his hands in the air.

"I honestly don't know what you want me to tell you." Y/n crossed her arms across her chest. "I'm sorry that you feel that way but I'm not changing my mind. I understand if..."

"I need time to... think."

"H..." She tried taking a step closer to him, but he backed off.

"Leave, please."

She didn't know if that was going to be the end of their relationship, and she hoped it wasn't. However, guessing by the look on Harry's face, this was it.

//

Harry's been miserable. He thought he'd only feel like these the first months after breaking up with Y/n but as the fifth month rolled in, he realized there was no way he'd ever get her out of his head... and out of his heart.

Even though he stopped crying in the shower in month three, he was still unable to go to the same places he used to go with her, his heart hurting too much for all the memories that hit him right in the face as he walks into the coffee shop they used to go to every Friday, or the place on the park they used to sit on after buying ice cream from the lovely old man who always gave Y/n a flower. He was slowly losing his mind and everyone around him could tell exactly what was happening. He missed Y/n.

The problem was, he took way too long to realize he made a mistake, probably the most tremendous one of his entire life. He couldn't stop thinking that, if he answered those calls he declined from her, the love of his life would most likely be wrapped around a blanket in his living room, watching the notebook for the millionth time as they cuddled closer and closer to each other. She always let Harry chose the movie, despite she always knew what his choice would be and although she used to get bored at the movie, after a few times watching it with Harry, she grew to like it.

That was who she is. She's always pleasing everyone else, often growing upset when she can get the people around her what they wanted. And that included Harry. She used to put him and whatever he wanted first, always. If Harry wanted to go out, they'd go out. If he wanted to stay in, they'd stay in. And deep down, Harry knew that the reason why he lashed out at her he way he did seven months ago, it was because he knew Y/n wouldn't be able to fulfill the one dream he wanted the most. Or at least, the dream he thought he wanted the most because when his anger went down and he was able to see clearly, he realized there wasn't anything in this world he wanted more than to be with her, and that if he ever went and married another woman just to be a father, that baby wouldn't be half the love of his life, therefore nothing would be perfect and his life wouldn't be as happy as he was when he was with Y/n.

"You have to get out of bed, H." Gemma said as she opened the curtains of the bedroom, making him let out a groan. "Although you're an asshole, it hurts me to see you like this."

"Thanks for the pep talk, Gem." His words came out muffled as his face was still pressed to the pillow. The one from the side Y/N used to sleep on.

"That wasn't a pep talk, knobhead." She sat at the edge of the bed. "I'm just tired of seeing you like this, Har. You fucked up, stop mopping around and own your mistake."

"She hates me."

"She has every reason to," Harry gave her a dirty look. "but, I don't think she does. You know her, she loved you more than anything."

"Yeah, she really did." Harry's eyes filled with a new wave of tears and he choked a sob. "I was so wrong, Gem. I can't believe I yelled at her the way I did." He cried. "I had the love of my life and I made her leave." Now he sobbed.

His sister sighed. Although it was very clear who's fault was, she couldn't help but feel bad for his baby brother. Everyone could see how happy they made each other, always saying they were it for the other. And they were true. That was, of course, until Harry fucked up.

"I'm telling you this because I love you," She started. "You have to move on. It's been five months, H. You made it very clear you both wanted different things, and that's okay. But you have to accept that."

"I don't mean it anymore!"

"It doesn't matter. You meant it back then, and you're not gonna change anything staying in bed and crying all day."

"You're right." He suddenly sat up, pulling the cover off of him. "I should go see her."

"No, that's not-"

"You're a genius, Gem." Harry cupped her face and gave her an obnoxious kiss on the cheek.

"Ew!"

"I will get her back!" He jumped out of the bed and trotted to his walk-in closet, stripping out of his pajamas and into whatever pants and shirt he found. "I'll apologize and she will understand, right?"

"Baby brother, I think you're being a little too optimistic." Gemma stood up and walked towards him. "Don't be stupid, an 'I'm sorry' will not fix anything. Also, you don't even know where to find her, or how is she... or who she's with." Harry narrowed his eyes at her. "What? You have to consider all the options."

"I check her Instagram every day, she's not dating anyone."

"She can hide posts and stories from you, dumbass." She crossed her arms. "And every day? Creep."

Harry sticks his tongue out at her. "I also check her friend's profiles, believe me, she's single. And I'm gonna win her back."

"Harry," Gemma started, but he was already out of the run and running down the stairs. "Wait! Where are you going?"

"To her house!" He yelled back from the bottom of the stairs, grabbing his keys.

"Hang on, I'll take you!"

"What, really?" He stopped his tracks, turning around to face his sister.

"If you suffer from humiliation, I have to videotape it." She smirked, grabbing her purse and opening the front door.

"You're horrible."

"Chop, chop! Let's go, Romeo."

//

"I..." Hiccup. "I hate..." Hiccup. "... Men." Hiccup. "But I love you, Nolan."

"Alright, It's three in the afternoon, Y/n/n. Cut the tequila."

"What?!" She gasped. "It's never too early for tequila." She raised her finger at her best friend.

"C'mon, darling. Let's get you into the shower. Hannah should be here soon too."

"I love you guys." She said as Nolan practically carried her up the stairs and to her bedroom. "And I love Harry."

He sighed, finally entering the room, sitting Y/n on her bed where he immediately collapsed. "I know you do, sweetheart. Now, I want you in the bathroom."

She groaned, extending her hands at him. Nolan rolled his eyes but grabbed her hands to pull from her. He didn't know how she managed to get this drunk at three o'clock, but then again after five months of pretending to be okay, a breakdown was meant to happen sooner or later.

"You're the bestest friend ever."

"Mhm, repeat that when you're sober." Closing the door behind him, he helped her take her clothes off.

"Is Marcus mad at me because you left him to come here?" She asked, pouting. Marcus was Nolan's boyfriend.

"Of course not, don't be silly. He wants to take you out tonight though."

"Yes! Thousand times yes. Count. Me. In."

"What you want is your head on the toilet all night, don't you?" Y/N stepped into the shower but let out a squeal when she felt the cold water hit her skin.

"Let me out, let me out."

"Nope, we need to sober you up so you stay there." He leaned on the wall, waiting for her with a towel in his hands.

After a quick shower, Nolan wrapped her in the fluffy towel and left the room to go downstairs, he figured Y/n could handle herself for a bit while he waited for Hannah to arrive with food. He hasn't seen her this drunk since the day she and Harry broke up, so she still had a lot to let out.

There was a knock on the door and Nolan hurried to open it, thinking Hannah was finally here. To his surprise, instead of their blonde friend being there with loads of food for them to eat, Harry Styles was waiting on the other side of the door, holding the biggest bouquet of pink roses he's ever seen before.

"No, handsome. Go back to where you came from."

"C'mon, Nolan. Is she home?"

"Nope." Nolan crossed his arms, trying to look more intimidating. "She's out there, living her best life."

"Then why are you here?"

The blonde man opened his mouth then closed it again. "None of your business. Look, Harry, let it go. Do you seriously think showing up here five months after with a huge bouquet of flowers will magically fix everything?"

"I need to talk to Y/n, please. I-I messed up, okay? I was horrible to her and I know it, but I want to make it right."

He sighed. "Right now is not a good time, trust me." Harry frowned. "Do you want my advice? Move on."

With that, he closed the door on his face and returned to the living room. He was not going to allow his best friend to get her heart broken all over again over a pair of pretty eyes.

//

"When you said we'd be going out, I thought you meant to get fucked up, not to sing karaoke." Y/N said as she took a long sip of her drink, resting her cheek on her palm.

"Who says we can't do both here? Besides, I'll be fun." Marcus said.

"I don't sing, my loves. I came for the alcohol." Hannah finished her drink and stood up to walk to the bar to get another one.

"You're alcoholics, both of you."

"I call it, drown in your own sorrow."

"Cheers for that."

After a few rounds, Nolan was up serenading Marcus, completely out of key but no one cared since they were all already a little bit tipsy. Y/N was having a great time with her friends, completely forgetting the reason why she got drunk at three in the afternoon. No one knew what she did to not be hungover right now, but nonetheless, they were glad she was there having fun too.

That was until Nolan noticed Harry walk into the bar.

"Pst, Han." He whispered. "Wait ten seconds then turn around."

She did what he said. "Oh, so he did come."

"Wait, what?!" he whispered-yelled.

"I told him we'd be here." She shrugged.

"Why the hell would you do that?"

"Because they need to talk." Nolan rolled his eyes. "Cut the crap, you know I'm right. Y/n deserves an apology and Harry has one, easy peasy."

"You forgot the part where he broke her heart."

"Hey, I'm not defending him. However, they're crazy for each other and unless they talk things out, we'll have our best friend become an alcoholic."

"What are you two gossiping about?" Y/n said, returning to the table after going to the bathroom.

"About how I need another drink!" Hannah exclaimed.

"Ugh, me too. I'll go this time." She got up again.

"Wait!" Nolan grabbed her hand but Hannah kicked him under the table, making him groan.

"Are you okay?"

"Uh, yes. Can you bring me one too?"

"I got you, babes."

She walked to the bar while humming the song someone was singing up there. "Oop." Y/n tripped over her own feet but before she could fell face down on the floor, someone wrapped a hand around her forearm. "Oh, thank you..." She looked up to see the stranger who saved her and her breath hitched when she saw him. "Harry."

"Hey, love."

"What... how-? Wait, don't call me love!" She crossed her arms, annoyed.

"Y/n, wait, please. We need to talk."

"Oh, no, no. We-" She signaled the space between them. "Have nothing to talk about."

"Listen to me, please. I know you don't have to, and I know that I was horrible and behaved like a proper dick five months ago, but I want to apologize to you, I'm begging you."

She sighed. She looked into his eyes and saw a flash of hurt and regret, his hair also looked a mess and he looked like he hasn't shaved in a while. Maybe he's been feeling as bad as her. Deep down, she hoped he has.

"Five minutes, then I'm gone."

Harry wasted no time and pulled her towards the bathrooms, entering the ladies one and double-checking it was empty before locking the door. "First of all, you have no idea how much I've missed you." She opened her mouth, probably to throw a sarcastic comment but he interrupted her. "Let me finish, please. Last time I saw you... I wasn't nice, at all. I lashed out at you for no reason, honestly. You were right, I've got no say in whatever you want to do with your body. I was a brat and I was mad at... honestly, I don't know what I was mad about. I'm sorry it took me so long to realize this, but I don't need anyone else if I have you, Y/n. You're the love of my life and-" He grabbed her hands. "I love you with my whole heart. If kids isn't something you want, then we don't need it, baby."

"Harry, you don't know what you're talking about."

"Excuse me?"

"You love kids! I know you've always wanted to be a father, and you'll be a great one, one day. You deserve to have the future you've always dreamt of having." She offered him a tiny smile. "I'm not the future that you want, H."

"Y/n, listen to me, you're my dream. You, no one else."

"If we stayed together, one day you're gonna wake up and realize you missed your opportunity of having a family of your own and you're gonna hate me forever."

"Of course not." He said, offended. "How could you say that? I could never, never hate you. I'd hate my life if you weren't in it."

"We want different things. And despite me knowing that, I still walked into this relationship because I was selfish. Selfish because I thought you... you would change your mind."

"You're the most selfless person I've ever known, my love. You're not selfish, I'm an asshole. I didn't listen to you because I always want everything to be my way. But we're a team, we got each other. We don't need anything else."

At this point, Harry was ready to drop on his knees and beg for forgiveness. He was trying so hard to not start sobbing right there, but Y/n looked like she's made up her mind and he felt like his heart was breaking more and more as the minutes passed. He didn't know what else to say to convince her to be with him, and that terrified him.

"I don't know..."

"Please, give me one more chance. Please, baby."

Y/n was really trying to think this through. On one hand, she missed him more than anything, and she's been miserable these past months without her, no matter how much she tried to put on a happy face for everyone around her. On the other hand, she felt like she needed to let Harry go so he could be happy with someone else, someone who shared the same dreams and plans as him. Her blood boiled at the last part, feeling jealous of even thinking about Harry, his Harry, being with someone else.

She had him right in front of her on a silver plate, ready to rebuild their relationship because he loved her too much to let her go.

"I really missed you." She finally collapsed into his arms, holding him tightly. "And I'm so scared of losing you."

"You're not gonna lose me. Not now, not ever. You're stuck with me, okay?" He cupped her cheeks, looking at her straight in the eye. Her eyes were filled with tears but a little smile was forming on her face. "My pretty baby. I love you so so much and I'm so excited to spend my life with you."

"I love you too, I can't wait to be with you forever."

[soda-pop-kandy-krush]

so this is a tiiiny bit longer than the drabble i set out for it to be... clearly i have no chill and get carried away far too easily. also, i wrote most of this whilst incredibly hormonal/sleep-deprived, so please excuse any mistakes. i will probably go through and proof-read it at a later date. maybe. in the meantime, enjoy! <33

-

(Prompt Post)

12: Come cuddle!

17: I’ve never been more embarrassed in my life...

-

Knock, knock.

“Vee? Are you in there?”

 Virgil’s brow furrowed a little, but he didn’t look up from his switch screen as he fiddled with the buttons to reorganise his inventory. “Who is it?”

 “Your favourite dad!”

 A tiny smirk pinched at the corners of his mouth. He wriggled into a more comfortable position on his beanbag, lifting the console closer to his face. “You can come in, Pat.”

 Patton pushed the door open, scanning the room for his son. A beaming grin appeared on his face when he found him, and he made an immediate beeline towards the pile of cushions on the floor. 

 “Hey, kiddo!” He flopped down right next to Virgil, pulling him into his chest so that he could wrap him in a bear hug. 

 Virgil grunted in surprise, dropping his switch in his lap as Patton squished his arms to his sides. He squirmed a little, trying to sit up, but Patton only held him tighter, smushing his cheek against Virgil’s soft, purple hair. “Can I help you, Pops?”

 He could feel the excited hum of his words vibrating through his scalp. “Come cuddle!”

 Virgil squinted. “... Is that not what we’re doing right now?”

 Patton giggled. “No, silly! I meant in my room! I’ll bake cookies, and I’ll build us a pillow fort- oh!” He bounced on his knees. “And I’ll even let you choose what movie we watch! As long as it’s not the scary one from last week, with all of the monsters in it.” Virgil rolled his eyes fondly as Patton shuddered. 

 “The Nightmare Before Christmas isn’t scary, Pat.” He wriggled one arm free and used it to pick up his switch, going back to his game. “Why don’t you ask Princey? I’m kinda busy right now.”

 “Oh, come on, kiddo. You can put down the video games for a couple of hours to spend some quality time with your old man, can’t you? Plus…” Patton leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “We both know how much you love your cuddles.”

 A choked scoff escaped before Virgil could stop it, his ears turning pink. “I- you- I do not-”

 Patton giggled, blowing warm air on the back of his neck. “Yes, you do!~”

 “No, I don’t!”

 “Don’t lie, Vee. I’ve seen you in action. You’re really not as slick as you think you are, cuddlebug.”

 Virgil’s face was so red he thought he was about to burst into flames. He didn’t realise the others actually noticed the way he slowly migrated towards whoever was sat on the other end of the couch during their movie nights, curling his legs up on the cushions so that he could worm his way under their arms and bury his face in their chest. Or how he would drag his beanbag into the common room and plop it in front of anybody in there, sinking down and not-so-subtly leaning back to rest his head against their knees so that they would play with his hair and let him drift asleep. Patton had caught him out, and he’d never been more embarrassed in his life.

 In his final attempt to hold onto the last, tattered shreds of his dignity, he turned to the only sensible option left: sulking like a child. He folded his arms with a petulant huff, glaring at the ground. Patton couldn’t help but laugh.

 “Awww, what’s wrong, kiddo?” He teased, wiggling a finger under his chin. “Where did that little smile go?”

 Virgil’s scowl immediately flattened out, the corners of his mouth twitching as he scrunched his shoulders. Intrigued, Patton repeated the action, grinning delightedly when Virgil made an ‘mmph’ noise, his hand coming up to push him away.

 “Wait a second... Is somebody ticklish?” 

 He pulled Virgil into his lap and tweaked the curve of his waist, earning a loud squeak as the dark side lurched away from the attacking hand, struggling to hide what was unmistakably the beginnings of a flustered smile.

 “Oh my goodness,” He gasped, spidering his fingers up and down Virgil’s sides. “This is the most adorable thing in the whole entire universe!”

 Virgil whined, premature giggles already beginning to bubble up as he batted at Patton with one hand, burying his burning face in the other. “Shut uuuup!”

 Patton chuckled. “Oh-ho, I would watch what I said if I were in your position, Mister.” There was a devious lilt to his voice that wasn’t there before. Virgil’s stomach dropped. “The tickle monster really doesn’t take kindly to that sort of language.”

 He would deny the way that he shrieked when Patton reached down to poke his belly until the day he died. Virgil’s hands immediately shot down from his face to protect himself- but unfortunately, that was exactly what Patton was betting on.

 “Uh oh! We’d better get those-” He caught both of Virgil’s wrists, pinning them against his chest so that he was effectively trapped in Patton’s embrace. “-out of the way. There we go!”

 Virgil whimpered, nervous giggles spilling out as he tugged uselessly at his arms. “No! Pat, plehease!”

 “Please what, Vee?” Patton grinned mischievously. “Pleeease… Give you all of the tickles?”

 “No!”

 “Yeah?”

 “Nohoho!”

 “Aw, kiddo! All you had to do was ask!”

 Ten wiggly fingers suddenly dug into the spaces between Virgil’s ribs. Combined with the teasing and his current helplessness, it tipped him over the edge just far enough that he couldn’t hold back the bright, child-like laughter that spilled from his lips. It was the sweetest sound that Patton had ever heard- and it was coming from Virgil!

 Oh, yeah. He was never letting this go.

 “I can’t believe that you kept this a secret from us!” He moved to pinch Virgil’s lower ribs, chasing the cluster of sweet spots towards his back that had him squealing and arching away. “Oooo, that was a good spot, huh?” Patton chuckled, reaching over to his other side and repeating the action.

 “Ahahaha- Pat! I cahahaha-!” Virgil collapsed against the moral side, his laughter tinged with hysteria as Patton’s fingers started poking his all of ribs randomly, making him squirm so much that he was now practically laying flat in his lap.

 “What was that? You can’t believe how much fun you’re having?” Patton cooed, grazing his midriff using his fingertips. “Well, aren’t you just the sweetest! And don’t you worry- we’ve got plenty of other places to explore before we’re anywhere near finished~”

 Virgil groaned as Patton lifted his wrists above his head, allowing him to catch his breath. He screwed his eyes shut, preparing for another attack, only to jump when he felt Patton’s hand cup his cheek, gently stroking the soft skin with his thumb. He blinked and looked up to see the moral side smiling back down at him.

 “You okay there, kiddo?” He chuckled.

 Virgil flushed, leftover giggles spilling out as he panted. He was giving him a chance to escape. Asking him if he wanted to continue. Making sure that he was actually enjoying himself.

He knew that he liked it... And he was okay with it?

 Swallowing, Virgil nodded. His timid smile morphed back into a wide grin within seconds as Patton’s fingers scribbled their way down his neck, his collarbones; looping over his shoulders before they wormed their way into his armpits, scratching at the taut skin and causing Virgil to fall right back into loud laughter.

 “Ehehehe- gehehet out of there!” He cried, pulling at his arms. Patton laughed along with him, still reeling from his wonderful discovery. The sight of a happy, squeaky, ticklish Virgil was a million times cuter than he could ever have imagined.

 “Huh? You mean here?” He wiggled a single finger right in the centre. “Okay, sure!” Patton switched to the other side, vibrating his fingers deep into the hollows. 

 Virgil squawked, promptly falling into uncontrollable cackling. By this point, he was so weak with laughter that he could barely even fight back. Not that that was such a terrible position to be in, but he’d be damned if the others ever figured out that he liked this, as well. Having the resident goofball know was bad enough, but he’d never hear the end of it if word spread around the rest of the mind palace.

 However, Virgil didn’t have much time to sit on it, as all comprehensive thoughts evaporated from his head as soon as Patton started to graze his fingernails up and down the underside of his left bicep.

 “Nonono-nohoho!” He pleaded, curling his arms around his head, not unlike a baby hedgehog. “Pat! Pahahat! Lemme gohoho!”

 Patton laughed. “Oh, I’m afraid it’s too late for you now, stormcloud. I’ve got you trapped, and you’re mine forever!~” He booped his nose gently before moving to the other arm, his lips curling up into a playful smirk. “Plus, I couldn’t possibly let you go before finding your worst spot.” His fingers slowed to a halt. Virgil felt a shiver run down his spine.

 “And I’ve got a feeling I know exactly where it is…”

 Virgil immediately broke down into nervous babbling, wriggling and giggling desperately as Patton trailed his fingers down the length of his body- stopping whenever he found a particularly ticklish spot to give it some attention- before he arrived at his middle. Slowly, dragging out the process as much as he could, he lifted Virgil’s shirt, the soft material brushing against his skin and lighting up every nerve in his torso, sending the poor dark side into fits of anxious giggles.

 Patton tittered amusedly. “Well then, it looks like I guessed right, huh, Vee?” And with that, he used all five fingers of his free hand to form a claw, spidering across the sensitive skin of his stomach.

 Virgil shrieked, bursting into loud laughter and kicking his legs out. Drained of his strength and hopelessly giddy, there was nothing left to do except lay there and take it as Patton’s tickly fingers crawled all over his belly, pinching and squeezing and scribbling every tiny, hidden spot until Virgil was sure he’d go insane. It was completely unbearable, and he never wanted it to stop.

 “Gitchy-gitchy-goo! Tickle-tickle-tickle!” He cooed, scribbling at the skin beneath his bellybutton. “Gee, kiddo, I think you’ve got to be the most ticklish person on the planet!”

 Virgil’s laughter dialled up even further, blushing so hard he could feel it in his ears. Oh, God, not the teasing! He was pretty sure whatever was left of his brain had now melted entirely, leaving him a loopy, flustered mess. 

 He scrambled around to try and pull together a suitably snarky comeback, when Patton began to scratch at the sides of his stomach and he finally, finally lost it.

 “Nahahaha! Stop! Stohohahap!”

 Patton gradually slowed down, eventually stopping and pressing the palm of his hand firmly into Virgil’s abdomen, rubbing away the phantom touches that lingered on his sensitive skin. His head lolled to the side, resting against Patton’s hip as he gulped down air, hiccupy laughter bubbling up in between each breath. 

 Patton chuckled. “You alright there, giggles?” He ran his fingers through Virgil’s hair, mussed up from all of his wriggling. 

 Virgil, with the remains of a dazed grin still stuck on his face, nodded, nuzzling against the soothing touch. He let his eyes slip shut, the occasional, solitary giggle escaping. The moral side smiled warmly.

 “I’m glad. You definitely needed that laugh.”

 Leaning forward, Patton switched off his gaming console from where it had been abandoned on the floor, before carefully scooping him up into his arms to carry him back to his room for the snuggles he was promised. Just as he was about to close the door behind him, a quiet voice interrupted him.

 “Thank you…” Mumbled Virgil, sleepily.

 Patton chuckled. “You’re welcome, kiddo.”

[imlovethomassanders]

Eyes are the Windows to the Soul(mates) - Chapter 2

You can also read on ao3

Again, thanks to @strongindependentcheesecake for beta reading

This work is complete, and will be updated every day until completion:

Chapter 1 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 (FINAL)

Summary: The lucky few who have a soulmate are born with heterochromia, with their left eye being the color of their soulmate’s eyes and their right eye being their own color. Not only was Virgil one of the lucky few to have a soulmate, but he was given four. His left eye changed colors every time he blinked, rotating between his four soulmates’ eye colors. His rotating eye colors caused him to be a bit of an outcast growing up, but when he finally leaves for college, things start to fall into place. This is the journey of five strangers finding each other.

Pairings: DLAMP with background Remile

Warnings: None I believe

Words: 2692

Taglist:  @touchstarvedvirgil @lamp-calm-sanders @ninjago2020 @confinesofpersonalknowledge @secret-novelisthost18 @phander-sides @sherlock-lives-on-bakerstreet @bookbingingproblem @viana-dascolli @sharktryingtofly @crofters-n-falsehoods @turnedthefreakingfrogsgay @little-kat07

That Saturday morning Virgil started the long drive up to Patton's house. The plan Patton arranged was for Virgil to meet him at his house and that evening meet their other soulmate. Patton had planned Virgil's arrival to coincide with his mom's work hours, so he knew that they'd get a few hours alone.

The more Patton gushed about their other soulmate, the more nervous Virgil felt. Patton refused to give too many details, though, saying he wanted Virgil to learn them himself.

Virgil finally pulled into the driveway and groaned as he stretched his legs, since he refused to stop once during the drive.

Virgil hadn't even knocked on the door before Patton swung it open and pulled Virgil inside.

Virgil was caught off guard by the suddenness of it but quickly relaxed under Patton's grasp and hugged him back tightly. Patton took a shaky breath before separating to look up at Virgil. Virgil gingerly wiped away a tear that fell down Patton's cheek. Patton smiled before going in to kiss Virgil and Virgil leaned down to meet him halfway.

Though the kiss was soft, there was still an underlying sense of urgency. That had been apart so long, after all. Virgil moved his hands to Patton's neck while Patton tried to pull him closer, though they were about as close as they could be.

Once the two finally separated they moved to the couch, Patton's legs thrown over Virgil's lap as he clung to his side, and Virgil had his arm securely around Patton's waist.

Patton had a movie playing on Netflix, but neither of them were really watching.

"How's your summer been?" Patton asked.

"Boring."

"Same here. Well, until recently," Patton beamed, and Virgil couldn't help but smile.

Virgil and Patton were planning to go to a coffee shop near Patton's house to meet their soulmate later in the evening. As the time grew closer and closer to when they needed to leave, Virgil's anxiety grew and grew. Patton could tell Virgil was getting anxious and started to rub circles into Virgil's back, something that never failed to make Virgil melt and basically turn into putty under Patton's hands.

After talking through two Netflix movies, it was time. Patton hopped off the couch and offered his hand to Virgil. Virgil took it and the two were out the door.

With every step Virgil took, his heart rate increased. This was it. Virgil was about to meet another soulmate. They entered the coffee shop and his heart rate grew even faster. They sat down and he felt his breathing start to grow a tad bit shallower.

There were too many people making too much noise. All the movement of the people around him was just too much and he tried to focus just on his and Patton's joined hands, watching as Patton rubbed circles on the back of his hands with his thumb.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw someone approach their table. Patton let go of his hands to stand up. Virgil took a deep breath and looked over, and the world that was just going too fast suddenly stood still.

He was gorgeous. He was taller than Patton and probably taller than Virgil. His posture was perfect and his dark hair was slicked back without a single strand out of place. He just radiated this sense of sophistication that would have intimidated Virgil had Patton not just thrown his arms around him, causing him to stumble back a little bit.

Virgil's breath hitched as he looked behind the glasses to see that next to his deep blue eye was Virgil's own gray, which faded into dark brown once their eyes met.

"Virgil! This is Logan! He's our soulmate!" Patton exclaimed as he ushered Logan into a seat between them.

"Hi..."

"Salutations."

"Patton glanced between the two, smile growing even larger.

*

"So you actually lived here your whole life, too!?" Patton exclaimed. Logan nodded.

"Up until recently. I live out of state now, near my university. I'm just here to visit my parents this month."

"So we could've met a long time ago," Patton said, a hint of sadness in his voice.

"We could have, yes."

Seeing Patton's troubled expression caused Virgil to jump in.

"So what are you majoring in?" Virgil asked. Patton was holding one of Virgil's hands under the table and was back to rubbing circles in the back of his hand.

"Chemical engineering."

"Damn."

"Patton told me you're majoring in art like he is?" Logan asked as he went to sip his coffee.

"I am," Virgil nodded. "But I'm stuck in a dorm cause I'm only there on scholarship."

"From what I've heard, this university doesn't offer many art scholarships. You must be quite good," Logan said. Virgil felt heat rise quickly onto his face.

"So how'd you meet Patton?" Virgil asked quickly, wanting the attention off of him.

"He literally ran into me."

Virgil snorted.

"That sounds like Patton."

Patton just shrugged.

"He offered me his hand to help me up, and that's when I saw his eyes," Patton continued.

"He was so surprised, he accidently let go of my hand, causing him to fall again."

Patton grinned sheepishly as Virgil laughed.

"He then pulled me onto the ground to hug me. I first pushed myself off of him and tried to walk away, but he grabbed my hand to explain we were soulmates."

"We actually came and talked in here," Patton said. "That's why I decided to bring you here to meet him, too."

Virgil smiled.

*

After a couple more hours, Virgil noticed Logan repeatedly glancing at his watch. His leg started to shake lightly and he'd regularly run his hand through his hair.

"You okay, Logan?" Virgil asked.

Logan hesitated for a moment before sighing.

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I must go now. I'll call you in the morning, okay?"

He got up and started putting on his jacket.

Patton frowned and followed.

"Hold on, please," Patton said once they walked out the door. "Is something wrong?"

"Everything is fine," Logan assured. He went to walk away, causing Patton to reach for his arm but quickly pulling his hand back when he saw Logan flinch away. Logan sighed.

"This situation has been a tad bit overwhelming, that's all."

Patton's frown deepened. "What do you mean?"

Logan sighed again, this time more agitated.

"I just met my first soulmate a couple days ago, and now I'm already meeting another one. I do not exactly know what to make of all this."

Patton said nothing.

"I'm not sure what I expected. For us to immediately fall in love? For everything to work perfectly at the very beginning? I don't know what I expected, but those things didn't happen. "I am not the best at this whole 'emotion and romance' thing. You both seem like wonderful people and I'm sorry to disappoint, but I need some time to get adjusted to this whole soulmate and relationship idea."

Patton nodded. "O-of course. We'll see you soon, yeah?"

Logan nodded before walking away.

Patton took a shaky breath before grabbing Virgil's hand and quickly walking back towards his house.

Patton didn't say anything but by how often he wiped his eyes and his sniffling, it was obvious he was trying to keep from crying.

"I just don't understand!" Patton finally cried out once they got home. "We connected so easily. I don't know what went wrong."

"Patton."

"I mean, I get if he's nervous but why did he not connect with us?"

"Patton."

"We basically fell in love almost as soon as we met!"

"Did we, though?"

Patton froze.

"What?" he squeaked out.

'Can you say with one hundred percent certainty that the first time we said we loved each other that we truly did?"

"Of course! We-"

Virgil gently grabbed Patton's face.

"Really? Can you say we truly loved each other back then like we do now?"

"I-I-"

"We were more in love with the attention we received than each other. We barely knew each other."

Patton was quiet.

"I can say for sure that now I am crazy in love with you," Virgil said as he lifted Patton's chin so he could look into his eyes. "But we were young and lonely and desperate for anything, so we went way too quickly."

Patton took a shaky breath and nodded.

"You're right. Let's make sure we do it right with Logan this time."

Virgil leaned down to kiss him. He felt Patton take another shaky breath, and he knew tears were falling down Patton's face. He separated just to wipe the tears away before kissing him again.

Patton wrapped his arms around Virgil's chest and pulled him as close as he could, whimpering slightly as their bodies pushed against each other. Virgil moved his hands to Patton's hair, feeling Patton melt under him.

Eventually Patton pulled away, hair mussed up and pupils dark.

"I love you," Patton whispered. "So much."

Patton reconnected their lips and Virgil couldn't help push Patton against the wall, earning a surprised squeak from Patton that turned into a moan as Virgil bit his bottom lip.

"I love you, too," Virgil replied against Patton's lips in that husky voice that never failed to send shivers down Patton's spine.

Virgil's hands found their way around Patton's waist. Their kiss grew from fast and desperate to slow and gentle. Tears were falling down Patton's face again and at this point Virgil's arms were the only thing keeping him standing.

"I love you," Patton said softly between gentle kisses. "I love you I love you I love you."

"I love you, too," Virgil whispered back. "Let's sit you down, yeah?"

In one swift motion, Patton's legs were around Virgil's waist as he walked them back to the couch. He sat down with Patton straddling his lap, Patton immediately burying his head into the crook of Virgil's neck.

Patton took a shaky breath.

"Everything will be fine. Logan will be fine. We will be fine," Patton said, voice tired yet adamant.

Virgil couldn't see Patton's face, but he knew that Patton's eyes were bright with a passionate determination. Those eyes that let Virgil know everything was going to be okay.

*

The next day Logan did call. He apologized if he upset Virgil or Patton, and they responded with assurances that everything was okay.

Patton asked if he still wanted to go to the museum he mentioned a few days ago, and they could hear Logan's excitement over the phone.

Logan was busy with his parents that day, but they agreed that tomorrow they'd meet back at that cafe for lunch before going to the museum.

Patton was basically shaking with excitement after they hung up.

*

When tomorrow finally arrived, Virgil made him and Patton leave early due to his anxiety about being late. That combined with Logan's insistence on not being late to anything meant they met around thirty minutes earlier than scheduled - not that they minded.

"Heya, Logan!" Patton smiled as he sat down.

"Hello," Logan said as he put down his phone. "How are you two doing?"

During lunch, Logan was making a clear effort to get to know them, but he was still very clearly tense and uncertain of what he should do. This attitude continued as they climbed into Logan's car. Patton was trying to show Logan he could relax and everything would be okay, but Patton was growing desperate as time went on.

All that tension was gone once they walked inside the museum.

Logan quickly led them through and talked almost the whole time. Virgil and Patton could barely get a word in. He rambled about astronomy and physics and quantum theory and all these other things Patton and Virgil could barely understand. They rarely needed to read anything, as Logan would explain everything in greater detail than the plaques in front of them held.

While Patton and Virgil barely understood a word he said, they loved every second. His eyes had finally lit up and he seemed to relax. This was the Logan they wanted to know.

They stayed until closing. Logan drove Patton and Virgil back to Patton's house, and Patton invited Logan in. Logan hesitated, but agreed.

Logan sat on the couch with Virgil while Patton went off to go make tea.

"That was really fun," Virgil said as he shrugged off his hoodie.

"Yes," Logan nodded. "It was very enjoyable. Much more so than I expected," he admitted as he ducked his head. Virgil smiled.

"Hey, why can't you trust atoms?" Patton asked as he came in with mugs of tea.

"What?"

"Why, Pat?" Virgil asked.

"Because they make up everything!" Patton beamed. Virgil smirked as he brought his tea to his lips while Logan just stared.

"...What?"

"You'll get used to the jokes soon enough," Virgil promised.

After talking again for a couple more hours (this time the talking was much more balanced between the three of them), Patton offered to make dinner and was pleasantly surprised when Logan agreed to stay.

"And that's how I kept a cat in my room for a month without my mom knowing," Patton grinned.

"But you told me you were allergic to cats," Logan said incredulously. He and Virgil were sitting at the table while Patton cooked.

"I am," Patton said. "I just took a love of Advil."

"So what happened to the cat?" Virgil asked.

"She lives with my neighbor now."

"Wow."

Time passed far too quickly. Not long after dinner, Logan said he had to head home.

"Virgil's still in town for a few more days," Patton said as they stood in the front door. "Do you think you'd like to get together again?"

"I... I would like that very much," Logan said. "I enjoyed myself immensely tonight. I would like to apologize for my behavior yester-"

"Oh, hush," Patton interrupted. "You have nothing to apologize for. We know meeting your soulmate for the first time is overwhelming."

"We like a lot already, Logan," Virgil said. "Patton and I want to go at whatever pace you feel comfortable with."

Logan couldn't help the blush growing on his face. "I believe I can see myself growing quite fond of you two as well."

Patton beamed.

"I'll call you tomorrow," Logan said.

"Text me that you get home safe," Patton said.

"I will. Goodnight, Patton. Goodnight, Virgil," Logan replied before walking towards his car.

"G'night, Logan," Virgil said at the same time Patton called out "Goodnight!"

*

Virgil extended his stay by another week, but he did eventually have to go home.

Over that week, Virgil swore he was falling in love again. Logan was incredible.

He remembered feeling this excited giddiness for Patton, when everything was so new. The uncertainty of it all had been terrifying and yet so endearing at the same time. Virgil was ready to go on that journey with Logan - the wanting to know everything about this person, the wanting to grow to trust this person, and the wanting to have this person in your life.

That journey had been almost horrifying with Patton. They claimed they loved each other after only a couple of weeks. The two were so inexperienced they felt they had to say it out of necessity - that they had to because the universe told them so.

Now, two years later, Virgil knew he really did love Patton, and Virgil was ready to go along this journey right with Logan. Not going too fast, letting everything fall into place naturally.

Logan was smart, and he knew he was smart and was certain about nearly everything. He was blunt when speaking and never tried to hide his true opinions.

Virgil loved it.

While Virgil loved Patton dearly, he was always so optimistic and cheerful. And while that was by no means a bad thing, having a figure that was so sure and grounded soothed something inside Virgil that Patton's optimism couldn't.

They were two extremes that provided a balance Virgil hadn't been aware he needed.

It was perfect. Logan was perfect. Patton was perfect.

They were perfect.

[thebluesideofmyworld]

What Nico Remembered

Summary:

The five things that Nico remembered about Will. And one thing that he would never forget.

Word count: 3400 words || Rating: Teenage and Up Audiences || Read on AO3

Notes:

1. My small contribution for the Nico di Angelo Birthday Event 21, held by @solangeloweek ​ on Tumblr. I hope you enjoy this one :)

2. One of the scenes in this one-shot, the (#5) is inspired by a fanart created by @anxiousstar that you can see here.

(1) This was what Nico remembered:  the feeling of skeletal butterflies doing some stupid dancing in his stomach. It felt so foreign, but if Nico had to be honest, it wasn't unpleasant.

As he sat on the cot in the infirmary, he tried telling those butterflies to calm down. Will was sitting on the chair next to the cot, jotting things down on the writing board that he had.

“So what is it that I have to do during this three-day stay, then?” Nico asked, trying to keep his scowl while at the same time, trying not to get distracted by the way Will’s golden curls fell over his head.

“Rest, of course,” Will answered, and lifted his eyes up from the board. "Sleep is, of course, our first priority. A well-balanced diet is next on the list."

Nico raised his eyebrows. “You have a list?” He asked in disbelief, this time managed to hold his eyes at Will’s blue eyes.

(That was another thing that Nico remembered: Will’s blue eyes)

Will’s lips curled up a little into a small smirk. “Of course I do, Death Boy.”

“What’s next on the list, then?”

“Well,” Will tapped his chin with the pen that he was holding, pretending like he was thinking hard about something. “Considering that based on your answers, you were practically an old man-“

“And thus you have to show me more respect that you’re doing now”

Will ignored Nico’s remark and continued. “And those years that lost on you while you were in The Lotus Casino means you have a lot to catch up with some cultural stuff.”

Nico snorted. “What, you mean like fine art and paintings and stuff?”

Will laughed. He leaned forward just a little. “Well, I’m not talking about that kind of art.”

There it was again. Those stupid skeletal butterflies were doing that stupid dance again in his stomach, as Nico stared at the ink of freckles on Will’s face.

“What are you talking about, then?”

“I’m talking about Star Wars.”

Nico scowled. “Isn’t it the movie with the… the light swords and that dude in a black robe?”

Will’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh? So you have watched it?”

Nico shrugged his shoulders. “No,” he said. “But I think I’ve heard about it.”

“Well, then,” Will leaned back on his chair. His grin was wide and there was this excitement in his eyes. “It is decided then. The next thing on your to-do list while you’re here is having a Star Wars marathon.”

So the fact that Will loved Star Wars was one thing that Nico remembered. But the thing that he also remembered, was the way some stupid skeletal butterflies danced in his stomach, when Will fell asleep with his head on Nico’s shoulder, in the middle of Attack of The Clones.

***

(2) This was what Nico remembered: Nico didn’t ask Will to stay.

It was December. Nico had always dreaded the cold that December brought. And ever since Bianca passed away, December felt like the epitome of misery for Nico.

It was December. Nico lied down on his bed. It’s way past breakfast time, but Nico just didn’t have the energy to get up, let alone go out of his cabin.

When he heard the knocking, he wasn't exactly surprised. He had a pretty good guess on who's knocking and why. Also, he knew that the person knocking on the door would stubbornly refuse to leave anyway. So Nico sighed, and forced himself to sit down on his bed, leaning his back on the headboard.

“Come in,” he said and closed his eyes. He heard the door opened, and a second later it closed again with a soft thudding sound. He could hear Will’s footsteps but he kept his eyes closed. The footsteps stopped right next to his bed.

“Hey,” Will said, voice much gentler than usual.

Nico opened his eyes but stared at the dark wooden wall in front of him. He took a deep breath and sighed.

“What do you want?”

Will didn’t say anything for a while. The silence hung heavy between them. Nico turned his head to Will.

“What do you want?” He asked again.

Will slipped his hands into the pocket of his jeans. He bit his lower lip and looked hesitant for two seconds.

“Listen. Annabeth told me that this… this particular day might be hard for you.”

Icy cold feelings stabbed Nico’s chest. He could feel tears formed in his eyes. He turned his head away from Will, trying to blink away the tears.

“And?” He asked sharply, as he turned his head back at Will. “What you are going to do about it?”

“I want to make sure that you know that it’s okay-“

“No, it’s not, Solace! I lost my sister, do you think it’s okay? Do you think I’m okay with it?”

Will didn’t say anything. He didn’t look like he wanted to say anything. He just kept his eyes at Nico’s, with a look that Nico couldn’t understand.

Nico looked away again, hating himself for starting to cry again. Hating himself for shouting at Will. Hating himself for…everything.

“It’s not okay…” he whispered to the silence of the room, this time letting a tear fell down from his eyes.

“It’s not.”

Nico turned his head again, staring at Will.

Will slid down to sit on the floor, right next to the bed. He folded his arms on the bed.

"It's not okay. It hurts. To lose the people that we love. And it feels so unfair, isn't it?"

Will paused for a moment. “But, I mean… It’s okay to feel that way. To think that it’s not okay. To think that the world sucks.”

It's unexpected, to say the least. To hear those words coming from the Apollo's son who always seemed to see a silver line in everything. But at the same time, it made a thought cross his mind.

Maybe Will would understand.

Nico chewed his lower lip, still staring at the dark blue sheet covering his bed. He took a deep breath and let it out in a shaky breath.

“I miss her,” he whispered. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Will nodded.

“I’m sure you do.”

Silence again. But this time, it felt just a little bit lighter.

“Can you tell me about her?”

Nico turned his head slowly to Will. “What?”

There was this soft, gentle smile on Will’s lips. “Tell me about her. About your sister.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s an important person to you. Because you love her. Because I want to know about her, more than just a name.”

It didn’t make sense to Nico. It didn’t make sense and Nico didn’t know how to.

Then again, when Nico closed his eyes, he could see her smile. He could almost hear her voice, laughing as they ran through the alleys back in Venice.

Nico slowly opened his eyes back. “Bianca’s favorite color was green,” he started.

He didn’t know why and how but he kept on talking. He kept on talking about Bianca and pieces and fragments of memories that he remembered. He kept on talking to Will, who was sitting on the floor, arms folded on the bed, listening to every single word tumbling down from Nico.

At one point, Will’s hand crept down to hold Nico’s hand.

Nico didn’t hold his hand back. He just kept on talking about Bianca and the song that she used to sing and her favorite gelato in Venice.

But Will kept on holding his hand and he kept on listening to Nico’s words.

And that was what Nico remembered. Nico didn’t ask Will to stay, but Will stayed anyway.

Nico also remembered another thing: he didn’t hold Will’s hand back. But Will didn’t let go, and kept on holding his hand.

***

(3) This was what Nico remembered: Will Solace cried in silence.

Nico stood at the doorway to the emergency room in the infirmary. Will was there, totally focusing on the girl lying on the cot.

But now, Nico had his eyes on Thanatos, who was standing in the other corner of the room.

He stared at Thanatos, with pleading eyes.

But he knew it was useless.

Thanatos shook his head, a grim expression on his face.

Nico took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second. When he opened his eyes again, Thanatos already stood just two steps away from him.

“I’m sorry, My Prince,” Thanatos said, bowing his head a little.

“Well...,” Nico said. “You’re just doing your job.”

“Some death-“

"Cannot be avoided. Yes, I know that, Thanatos," Nico cut him sharply. His eyes quickly darted to where Will was. The healer didn’t seem to hear their conversation though (nor did he seem to care about anything else other than the girl on the cot, for that matter).

Thanatos’s lips thinned into a line, but he gave Nico a single nod.

Nico let out a small shaky breath. He knew that. He already knew that death was a certainty, anyway. But knowing how much it hurt Will to lose another patient? That’s another thing.

Nico made a small dismissive gesture with his hand. “Just… do what you have to do. Please make sure that it’s…in the least painful way for her.”

“She will no longer be in pain, My Prince,” Thanatos assured him. And with that last remark, he disappeared, leaving only a small trace of black smoke.

Nico took another deep breath and slowly let it out. Carefully, he made his way to the cot. When he was only a step away from Will, he stopped.

He watched the way Will’s chest moved heavily for a few silent moments. Then Will leaned forward, to gently closed the girl's head with the pale blue blanket.

Nico carefully placed his hand over Will's shoulder, squeezing it just a bit.

“We lost her,” Will said in a shaky whisper. “I lost her,” he added, voice even lower.

A steel fist clenched Nico’s heart. He squeezed Will’s shoulder again. The blond still had his eyes fixed on the body on the cot, now covered with a blue pale blanket.

“It’s not your fault, Will,” Nico said. There was a growing lump in his throat, but he forced himself to say it again. “It’s not your fault.”

Nico felt Will’s shoulder trembled as he took a deep, shaky breath. He kissed the top of Will’s head, mumbling against the curls again, “It’s not your fault, Tesoro. It’s not.”

Oh, how Nico would keep on saying it again and again, until Will really, truly believed in those words.

They burned the body the next morning, so early, the sun was nothing but pale purple light in the sky. Nico watched the fire burned the black and green shroud, Will stood silently next to him

And that was what Nico remembered: Will cried in silence. He didn’t weep, not even a sob. He cried by schooling his face into a blank canvas. Will shed no tears, but the color of his eyes turned into a dull shade of blue.

***

(4) This was what Nico remembered: Will tasted like strawberries with a touch of mint.

“Here, eat some,” Will shoved the bar of Kit Kat into Nico’s hand.

Nico raised his eyebrows but quickly unwrapped the chocolate bar. Will took a seat next to the cot, where Nico was sitting with crossed legs.

“Wow,” he said. “So McDonald’s chicken nugget is bad so you’re telling me to eat chocolate bar instead? Are you trying to give me a sugar rush or something?”

Will huffed. "McDonalds' gives you high blood pressure and a bigger risk of stroke and heart diseases. Kit-Kat, and chocolate bars, for that matter, are quick sources of energy. Exactly what you need after shadow-traveling."

Nico nodded, mouth still full with chocolate.

“You know what? I am not complaining. And maybe we should do more research on that.”

“On what?”

“Which kind of chocolate bars is the best one to give me after shadow-traveling,” Nico proposed, and took another bite of the Kit Kat.

Will chuckled, but his eyes softened. “Yeah, that sounds like a very intriguing research indeed.”

Nico continued eating the chocolate, but the way Will was staring at him almost made him squirmed.

“What?” Nico asked.

Will blinked. “Huh? What?”

Nico huffed. “You’re staring at me. Do I have chocolate on my face?” Nico’s index finger flew to his cheek and rubbed it.

Will smiled. And somehow, it’s not that brilliant smile that he usually had. This was different. This was a soft, gentle smile. A smile that made Nico forgot how to breathe for a second.

“You’re cute, do you know that?”

Nico’s heart skipped a beat. He could feel heat rushing into his face, burning the back of his neck.

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” Will insisted. He leaned forward a little, bringing his face closer to Nico’s. This time, there was a glint in his eyes, the smile turned into a playful smirk.

Nico huffed, trying his best to look annoyed. But inside, his heart was beating so fast, so fast with something he faintly recognized as a mix of nervousness and excitement.

“Oh yeah? So what?”

“So maybe it makes me want to kiss you.”

It wasn’t like Nico has never imagined this before. It wasn’t like Nico has never spent too much time wondering whether he read it all wrong. Then again, really hearing the words coming from Will instead of just some imaginary dialogues that he had in his mind still caught Nico off-guard. Nico inhaled sharply but he couldn’t seem to look away from Will.

“So maybe you should,” he said, half-whispering. He was almost proud that his voice was just a bit shaky, even though his heart was jumping like crazy in his chest.

For just a second, Will seemed surprised, like he didn’t expect Nico’s reply. But then the soft smile returned to his face, his blue eyes like a clear morning sky. He leaned forward even closer.

“Well, then maybe I will,” he whispered.

Nico closed his eyes as Will leaned even closer, his breath warm and light, a faint tickle over Nico’s skin.

The next second, he felt Will’s lips over his, a warm, sweet pressure that lingered for a short, fragile moment.

Will pulled away, and Nico opened his eyes. They stared at each other in silence, both breathing heavily. And it was Nico who spoke first.

“Hey, Will?”

“Hm?”

“Can you kiss me again?”

Will smiled and leaned forward again. He cupped Nico’s cheek in his hand that felt warm on Nico’s skin.

“Do you want me to?” He asked, his blue eyes gentle, sparkled with glee.

Nico hummed, and gave him a single nod. He didn’t even realize that the tips of his lips curled up into a small smile.

“Okay, then.”

Will kissed him again, and this time, Nico kissed him back. He let his fingers buried between the soft curls of Will’s golden hair and he let himself lost in the kiss.

Will slowly pulled away, only to gently pressed his forehead against Nico’s.

“You taste like Kit-Kat,” he said.

Nico chuckled. He pulled himself a bit from Will, and carefully traced Will’s lips with his finger.

“And you, Solace. You taste like strawberry and mint. Must have been your toothpaste.”

And that was what Nico remembered. Will tasted like strawberry, with a touch of mint.

***

(5) This was what Nico remembered: Will felt like home.

Nico walked out of the shadow to the coolness of his own cabin. He put his sword under his bed, and with wide steps, he made his way to the door. The afternoon sunlight was warm on his skin as he walked to the tree near the strawberry field.

Will was sitting under the tree, sitting cross-legged with a book on his lap. It was probably one of those medical textbooks that Will strangely enjoyed so much, as he didn’t seem to hear Nico’s footsteps. Nico stopped, and took a moment to stare at Will. It was almost ridiculous, that even with that hideous orange t-shirt that he was wearing, the sight of Will still made Nico strangely breathless.

“Hey,” Nico called.

Will looked up. When his eyes met Nico’s, the blue eyes sparkle as a smile light up his face.

“Neeks! You’re back!”

“Hmph.”

Will closed his book and put it aside.

“I’m tired,” Nico said, half-whining as he plopped himself down to sit right next to Will.

Will opened his arms invitingly, his eyes as warm as his smile. “Rest, then. Just lay down here on me.”

“Say no more, Solace,” Nico said. He scooted even closer to Will, and rest his head against Will’s chest. He closed his eyes as Will wrapped an arm around him. Nico let himself melt into the familiar warmth of Will’s embrace. As he started drifting off to sleep, he felt Will’s fingers gently going through his hair.

“Welcome home, darling,” Will whispered softly, and Nico felt Will’s lips gently pressed on the side of his head. “Now rest. You’re here now. You’re home. With me.”

And that was the last thing that Nico remembered before he fell asleep: He’s home now, in Will’s embrace. Will felt like home.

***

(+1) This was what Nico would never forget: he loved Will.

It was dark inside Cabin 13. A sliver of moonlight sneaked in from the window and fell on Will's hair. With the soft moonlight illuminating it, the golden curls looked more like silvery strands between Nico's fingers.

Playing with some strands of Will's hair, Nico let himself enjoyed the sight of his boyfriend, lying peacefully next to him. Will's eyes were closed, but there was a small, barely-there smile on his lips. And Nico knew that behind those eyelids, Will's blue eyes were smiling too.

Will opened his eyes, and shifted so now he’s lying on his side, facing Nico.

“It’s past midnight now,” he said softly.

Nico hummed. “And?” he asked, pulling his finger away and started tracing Will’s jawline.

“And it means that you’re officially 18 now.”

“Technically-“

Before he finished his sentence, Will already pressed a finger on his lips, shutting him down.

“Nope. None of that born-in-the-30’s shit now. Let me just enjoy the fact that it’s my boyfriend’s birthday now.”

Nico rolled his eyes. Will pulled his finger away, then leaned forward to place a soft, gentle kiss on Nico’s lips. He pulled away just a little, and placed another gentle kiss on the soft skin near Nico’s ear.

“Happy birthday, love,” he whispered. Nico shivered. The genuine sincerity in Will’s voice made him felt warm and giddy and just so inexplicably happy.

He cupped Will's cheek. Will was staring at him like Nico was the only thing in the world that he cared about. But he knew that he's also staring at Will in the same way.

“Kiss me again? As a birthday gift?”

Will smiled and even in the dim, soft light of the moon, that smile made Nico’s heart skipped a beat.

Will leaned forward again, kissing him again. Nico kissed him back, fingers buried between Will’s soft curls. And for a while, the whole world was reduced into just the two of them and the kiss that they were sharing.

For a while, there were only the two of them and nothing else mattered. Nothing could hurt them as long as they’re together like this, lost in the kiss.

Nico pulled away. Slightly panting, he stared at Will. Will smiled, and placed a quick, chaste kiss on Nico’s nose.

“What else that you want for your birthday?”

“More birthday with you. More days and years to spend with you. More memories to be made with you.”

Will laughed. He wrapped an arm around Nico, and pulled him so Nico was half-lying on his chest. He kissed the crown of Nico’s head.

“I love you so much, you know that, right?”

Nico looked up. “And I love you too. You know that, right?”

Will hummed, and wrapped his arms around Nico, enveloping him in his warm embrace.

There were a lot of things that Nico remembered about Will. And there was this one thing that he would never, ever forget: he loved Will. And Will loved him back.

***

Author’s Notes:

1. Thank you for reading :D

2. Any notes (likes, reblog, replies or a message to me) are cherished so much

[crying-in-a-stall]

Incorrect Sanders Sides

Virgil: Who the fuck added me to a fucking group chat? Roman: >:O language Patton: Yeah watch your fucking language Janus: OKAY WHO TAUGHT PATTON THE FUCK WORD? Roman: 'The fuck word'. Logan: Are you stupid? You guys use the f word all the time Roman: Oh my god they censored it Remus: Say fuck, Logan. Virgil: Do it, Logan. Say fuck.

Virgil: Well, aren’t you all a rag-tag group of adventurers with unclear goals and good hearts! Oh, let me guess: you’re out to save the world! Roman: Well, actually, that sounds like a pretty fair assessment. Janus: More or less, I guess... Patton: That sounds awesome! Let’s do that! Remus: I’m new here, but I am open to the concept. Logan: I thought that’s what we were doing, guys, come on!

Roman: Hewwo. Patton: Hihiiiiii! Logan: Greetings, Humans. Janus: Three kinds of people. Virgil: I want pudding. Janus: Four kinds of people. Remus: WHAT’S UP FUCKERS? Janus: Five kinds of people.

Logan: Just be yourself. Virgil: 'Be myself'? Logan, I have one day to win Roman over. How long did it take before you guys started liking me? Patton: Couple weeks. Remus: Six months. Janus: Jury’s still out. Virgil: See, Logan? Virgil: 'Be myself'. What kind of garbage advice is that?

Virgil: Croissants; dropped Roman: Road; works ahead Remus: BBQ sauce; on my titties Patton: Shavacado; fre Janus: Miss Keisha; fuckin dead Logan: Logan, grumpy: I didn’t understand a single word of that and I hate every single one of you.

Patton: We need to distract these guys Remus: Leave it to me Remus: Centaurs have six limbs and are therefore insects. Discuss. Logan, Roman, and Janus: *Immediately begin arguing* Virgil, watching in horror: Oh this. I don’t like this. I don't like this at all.

Virgil: Rules are made to be broken. Logan: They were made to be followed. Nothing is made to be broken. Patton: Uh, piñatas. Remus: Glow sticks. Janus: Karate boards. Roman: Spaghetti when you have a small pot. Virgil: Rules. Logan: …

Logan: Dumbest scar stories, go! Roman: I burned my tongue once drinking tea. Patton: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and burned it. Remus: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade. Janus: I was taking a cup of noodles out of the microwave and spilled it on my hand and I got a really bad burn. Virgil: … Virgil: I have emotional scars.

Logan: Anyone d- Virgil: Depressed? Roman: Drained? Patton: Dumb? Remus: Disliked? Janus: Distrusted? Logan: -done with their work... what is wrong with you people …

Patton: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the items you have lost throughout your life Virgil: Self-esteem, haven't seen you in years! Janus: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this! Roman: I knew I lost that potential somewhere! Remus: My moral code, is that you? Logan: ... Patton: I was just gonna show you this cool trunk my mother left me but do you guys need a hug?

Janus: Nothing in life is free. Patton: Love is free! Roman: Adventure is free. Logan: Knowledge is free. Virgil and Remus at the same time: Everything is free if you take it without paying.

Patton: What does 'take out' mean? Logan: Food. Roman: Dating Virgil: Murder Remus: IT CAN MEAN ALL THREE IF YOU'RE NOT A COWARD.

Remus: I’ve done a lot of dumb stuff. Janus: I witnessed the dumb stuff. Virgil: I recorded the dumb stuff. Patton: I joined in on the dumb stuff. Logan: I TRIED TO STOP YOU FROM DOING THE DUMB STUFF!!!

Janus: What did you guys get in your yearbook? Roman: 'Prettiest Smile' Patton: 'Nicest Personality' Remus: 'Most likely to start a bar fight' Virgil: 'Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one'

Logan: There are seven chairs and ten kids. What do you do? Virgil: Have everyone stand. Patton: Bring three more chairs! Janus: The most important ones can sit down. Remus: Kill three.

Logan: Good morning. Patton: Good morning. Roman: Good morning. Thomas: You all sound like robots, try spicing it up a bit. Virgil: MORNING MOTHERFUCKERS

Patton: What if the person who named Walkie Talkies named everything? Remus: Pregnancy tests are Maybe Babies Janus: Socks are Feetie Heaties Virgil: Forks are Stabby Grabbies Remus: Defibrillators are Heartie Starties Virgil: Nightmares are Dreamy Screamies Janus: Stamps are Lickie Stickies Logan, annoyed: You are disappointments Roman: Why isn’t the statue smirking at me? Logan: It isn’t smirking at anyone, they’re all just imagining it. Patton: Three of us saw it, Logan. How do you explain that? Logan: *points at Janus* Sleep deprivation. *points at Virgil* Paranoia. *points at Remus* Delusional personality disorder. And you just believe everything, Patton.

Janus: Favorite horror movie? Remus: It Logan: Saw Roman: Annabelle Virgil: High School Musical. After watching it I spent all my middle school years terrified that the entire school would start singing something and I’d be the only one who didn’t know the lyrics

Virgil: We need more help. Maybe I should call my friends. Remus: ... Your what? Virgil: My friends. Janus: Are they saying “friends”? Remus: I think they're being sarcastic. Janus: No, no, no, this is delirium, they've cracked from being awake all night. Hey, Virgil! All of your friends are in this room. Virgil: I have other friends! You asked me to make new friends, I made new friends! It was a task. I complete tasks.

Patton, trying to convince Virgil to join the group: You know... I thought it'd be good to have someone come along who's really... strong! Roman: And grumpy! Logan: And oblivious to reality! Virgil: …

Roman: You lying, cheating, piece of shit! Virgil: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD Roman: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING PATTON WITH ME Logan, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

*Patton is cooking* Roman: Any chance that’s for me? Patton: It’s for Logan. I’m planning on making some bad choices tonight, and I need them on my side. Virgil: I never realized the forethought that went into being a disappointment.

Patton: Hey, is Roman sleeping or dead? Virgil: Hopefully dead, I hated their guts. Logan: Yeah, so did I. Roman: Okay first of all, fuck you-

Virgil: Is stabbing someone immoral? Janus: Not if they consent to it. Remus: Depends who you’re stabbing. Logan, who was dragged into the dark sides meeting: YES?!?

Janus: Self care is actually getting into fights with randoms in dark alleys. Patton: No, self care is stuff like taking a bubble bath, or putting on a lot of makeup if you like it, or taking a nice warm nap! Logan: Self-care is any necessary human regulatory function which is under individual control, deliberate and self-initiated. Janus: Self care is the burning heat when rage washes over you!! Virgil: Self care is when you feel the bones crack under your powerful fists!! Roman: Self care is the fear in your enemies’ eyes!!! Remus: Lmao self care is taking your birthday cake just so I can eat the frosting. Patton: If you touch my birthday cake I’ll make you eat your hands.

Roman: You are now one day closer to eating your next plate of Nachos. Logan: That's the most hopeful thing I've ever heard. Virgil: But what if I die tomorrow and never eat any Nachos? Patton: Then tomorrow is nacho lucky day.

Roman, banging on the door: Virgil! Open up! Virgil: Well, it all started when I was a kid... Logan: No, they meant- Patton: Let them finish.

Janus: Come on, I wasn’t that drunk last night. Virgil: You were flirting with Remus. Janus: So what? They're my partner. Remus: You asked me if I was single. Virgil: And then you cried when they said they weren't.

Store Worker: Would a ‘Janus’ please come to the front desk? Janus, arriving at the desk: Hello, is there a problem? Store Worker: points to Remus and Virgil Store Worker: I believe they belong to you? Remus and Virgil, simultaneously: We got lost :( Janus: I didn’t even bring you guys here with me-

Janus, driving Remus and Virgil: So how was your day? Remus: We almost got surprise adopted! Janus: What? Virgil: We almost got kidnapped. Janus: Oh, okay. Janus: *slams on the breaks* WAIT WHAT?!

Janus: Sometimes I drink milk straight out of the container. Remus: The cow??? Janus: What? Virgil: Remus, W H Y?

Roman: Virgil, my old arch enemy. Remus: ... I thought I was your arch enemy? Roman: I have a life outside of you, Remus.

Remus: How's the sexiest person here~? Janus: I don't know, how are they~? Remus, flustered: I- Virgil, from across the room: I'm doing great, thanks!

Patton: Are you the big spoon or the little spoon? Virgil: I'm a knife. Roman, from across the room: They're the little spoon.

Roman: So, what, now I’m just supposed to do anything that Logan does? I mean, what if they jumped off a cliff? Patton: If Logan were to jump off a cliff, they would’ve done their due diligence regarding the height of the cliff, the depth of the water, and the angle of entry, so yes. If you see Logan jump off a cliff, by all means, jump off a cliff. Roman: You jump off a cliff! Patton: Gladly. Provided Logan did first.

Janus: I know you snuck out last night, Remus. Virgil: Play dumb! Remus: Who's Remus? Virgil: NOT THAT DUMB!!!

Roman: Fitness tip, never stop pushing yourself. Logan: Some say 8 hours of sleep is enough. Why not keep going? Virgil: Why not 9? Why not 10? ]Janus: Strive for greatness. Roman: Next time you’re working out do 15 push ups instead of 10. Run 3 miles instead of 2. Patton, from the background: Eat a whole cake instead of just a slice. Remus from the background: Burn your ex’s house down. Roman: You can do it. I believe in you. Thomas: There were so many mixed messages in that I can’t-

Remus: I can’t believe you live nearby, and you won’t let anyone crash at your place. Virgil: You people already know too much about me. Janus: I know exactly three facts about you, and one of them is that you won’t let any of us crash at your place.

Virgil: Janus, can I talk to you for a second? Janus: Yeah, what’s up? Remus: Lemme guess. You and Roman are having problems and you want me to teach you how to kiss? Virgil: What? No, stop that. I know how to kiss. I’ve read books.

Remus: In my defense, I was left unsupervised. Janus: Wasn't Virgil with you? Virgil: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised.

Remus: Okay, help me please! Virgil: Got two words for you. Janus: I bet they won't be helpful. Virgil: Your problem. Janus: I was right

Virgil: So are we flirting right now? Roman: I AM LITERALLY STABBING YOU Virgil: That doesn’t answer my question

Patton: Where are you going? Remus: To get ice cream or commit a felony, I’ll decide on the way there Patton: Can you get me a strawberry cone? Janus: Can you kill Virgil? Virgil: Can you kill Roman? Roman: Can you kill Janus? Logan: Can you not commit a felony?

Logan: It’s dark in here Patton: Don’t worry fam, I got this Patton: *Stomps their feet* Patton: *Sketchers light up*

Logan: So what do you do? Janus: I work in genetic research, and I'm currently trying to eliminate all Cancers. Logan: Wow, impressive. Janus: Then I'll move on to Leos.

Remus: Don’t worry, I have a few knives up my sleeve. Roman: I think you mean cards. Remus, pulling knives out of their sleeves: No, I do not.

Virgil: We went through an entire character arc during quarantine Janus: We all became more evil if you’re curious Patton: We're still in quarantine, don't worry, there's time for a redemption arc still! Remus: I’m going to get worse on purpose

Patton: Am I in trouble? Logan: Take a guess. Patton: No? Logan: Take another guess.

Patton: Oh just so you know, it's very muggy outside Roman: *holding in a laugh* Logan: Patton, I swear, if I step outside and all of our mugs are on the front lawn... Virgil: *Sips coffee from bowl*

Virgil: You kill people for money?! Virgil: Can I pay you? Janus: Virgil no- Remus: And all this time I’ve been doing it for free like a chump!

Roman: What are your goals? Thomas as Patton: To pet all the dogs. Logan: No, fitness goals. Thomas as Patton: To be able to run fast enough to pet all the dogs.

Patton: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them. Virgil: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.

Virgil: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my paranoia. I'll wait. Patton’s Card: FAM - ILY Virgil, tearing up: Okay.

Logan: I actually have a black belt. Roman: In what, karate? Logan: No, from Gucci.

Remus: Am I going too far? Janus: No, no, no. You went too far about seven hours ago. Now you're going to prison.

Patton, motioning to a Halloween display: All these ghosts! All these ghosts! I still can’t find a boo. Logan: Babe, I’m right here.

Remus: You think I really give a fuck? I can’t even read.

Virgil: Okay okay stop asking me if I'm straight, gay, bi, whatever. I identify as a FUCKING THREAT. Roman, from across the room: You tell ‘em, babe!

Roman: You can de-escalate any situation by simply saying, 'Are we about to kiss?' Remus: Doesn't work for getting out of speeding tickets, by the way.

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

I’ve Been Looking for the Sunshine

For @baloobird (@friendly-neighborhood-exchange)

Rating: G

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, May Parker, Ben Parker

Summary: Eleven years after the death of his parents and two years after the death of his uncle, Peter finds comfort in Tony Stark.

Prompt: Peter has a rough day at school so Tony picks him up early and finds a way to cheer him up.

Tag List: @justrepostandlove @gasplaughgasp @canonismybitch @shadedrose01 @baloobird @whatisawilltolive @a-liddell-alice @you-know-i-larb-you-3000 @hold-our-destiny @lyssismagical @spideygirl2003 @make-the-stars-stay @pj-hermes-tonystark-obsessed @iron-loyalty Read on ao3

Richard Parker was twenty four years old when his wife handed him a pregnancy test with a pink plus sign on it. He felt his face break into a wide grin and he scooped her into his arms with a laugh.

He was twenty five years old when he held his baby boy for the first time and he fell instantly in love. Up until he held his son in his arms, he had been nervous that he would be a terrible father and that he had no idea what he was doing. But looking down at little Peter, Richard knew that he’s mess up a thousand times, he would never be the perfect father, but as long as Peter knew he was safe and loved, it didn’t matter.

When a baby is born, there’s a few days before it really seems like they’ve gained consciousness. Richard got to witness that moment. He leaned over Peter’s crib and saw his boy looking back up at him. Peter’s face broke into a wide, gummy smile and blinked happily up at his dad. Richard was honest enough to say he cried and immediately called Mary into the room.

“Mom and I will just be gone for a few days, okay?” Richard asked. Peter nodded. “Remember to be good for Uncle Ben and Aunt May.” Another nod. “Good boy,” Richard patted Peter’s cheek affectionately. “We’ll be back before you know it.” 

Peter frowned, “Promise?” 

Richard smiled, “I promise.” He pulled Peter into a hug, pressing a kiss to his son’s curly mess of hair. When Peter pulled back, Richard did as well. He pressed another kiss to Peter’s forehead. “I love you, buddy. I’ll see you on Tuesday.” 

Ben Parker was twenty six years old when he got a phone call telling him his brother and his sister-in-law had died in a plane crash. He was twenty six when he became the legal guardian of his nephew, Peter. 

It was no surprise to May or Ben that Richard and Mary’s death hit Peter hard. But with a child suddenly being put into their care, they couldn’t afford to put Peter through any sort of grief counseling. Many nights a week, Ben would sit with Peter in his bed, trying desperately to get the kid to fall asleep. Often times only for Peter to wake up in the middle of the night asking for his parents through thick curtains of tears.

When Ben was thirty three, Peter turned thirteen and Ben realized that he had now been Peter’s guardian longer than Richard had been his dad. 

When Peter was fifteen years old, he watched his uncle die. He watched rain spread the blood down the pavement, making the wound almost look clean. But Peter knew better. He held his uncle’s hand while he died, ambulance sirens roaring from blocks away. 

With his last moments, Ben reached a hand up to Peter’s cheek and said painfully, “You’re going to be okay, kid.” 

Peter clutched Ben’s hand to his cheek. He wanted so desperately to apologize, to thank him, to say anything, but Peter couldn’t find the will in him to make more than a strangled sound as he desperately hugged his uncle. 

Ben was gone before the ambulance even reached them. 

Peter is seventeen years old and he doesn’t know if he can manage to pull himself out of his bed. 

But he hears May moving in the kitchen and if she can do it, so can he. She was the one that really knew them, not Peter. So with a heavy sigh, Peter sits up and pulls open his blinds. The sky is covered with a thick layer of clouds. Good, Peter thinks, he doesn’t know if he could have handled sunshine today. Peter takes his time getting ready for school, fog weighing heavily on his mind. 

When he makes his way into the kitchen for some breakfast, May stops where she’s pouring herself a glass of water and envelops Peter into a hug. On days like today, Peter wishes he hadn’t had his growth spurt so he would fit perfectly into her arms. But he settles for just putting his head on her shoulder. When they pull apart, May gives him a sad look. 

“You sure you want to go to school today?” May asks. 

“Yeah,” Peter shrugs her worries off. “It’ll be good to get out of the apartment.” 

“Okay, baby.” 

Peter walks slowly to school, barely making it to first period in time. Both Ned and MJ give him supportive smiles as he sits down. The first part of the day passes like a blur, Peter couldn’t say a single thing that happened to him. He knew that Ned was constantly a pillar at his side, squeezing his hand occasionally. And for all her snark, MJ was taking care of him too. It didn’t escape his notice that she was taking notes for him in all of their classes. 

That is until Peter finds himself alone in the hallway, Ned and MJ having split off to their respective classes, leaving Peter to find his on his own. He just ducks his head and keeps walking, muscle memory taking him to his next class. Out of nowhere, someone shoves him and slams him up against the lockers, keeping him there with their forearm. 

Flash looks at him with a smirk, “What’s wrong with you, Penis?” 

Peter sighs, “You ask me that every day. What do you want to make fun of me for this time?” Peter asks, his voice almost dead pan. “I’m scrawny? I’m smart? I’m ace? Pick your poison.” 

Flash looks at him in confusion, but before the bully can say anything, Peter shoves Flash off of him, using just enough of his super strength to make him stumble. With that Peter walks down the now empty hall. But before he can get very far, someone grabs on to his backpack, yanking him backwards. 

Peter lets out a noise of surprise as suddenly a fist collides with his cheek. Normally, Peter’s spider-sense would warn him of something like that, but not in this moment. The punch impacts Peter more than he expected and he goes crashing back into the lockers. Some sick part of Peter’s mind tells him that he deserves it. 

Peter sees the second punch coming and dodges out of the way. At this point, Peter is far too mentally exhausted to deal with any more of Flash’s shit so he jumps to his feet and runs straight out the front doors of the school. 

He thinks about calling May, but Peter decides against it and instead plops down on the cold stairs. The sting of the punch is already fading back into the dull numbness he’s been feeling all day. Peter doesn’t know how long he sits on the steps of the school. No one approaches him and no one passing on the street spares him a passing glance. 

The cloud breaks after a little bit, allowing the sun to pass over the city. Peter sags a bit further, of course the sky is taunting him. But he is pulled from his thoughts only moments later when a sleek black car rolls up in front of Midtown and from the driver’s side steps out Tony Stark. He gives Peter a wave and beckons him over. 

Peter goes eagerly and sits in the passenger seat, shoving his backpack by his feet. “What are you doing here?” Peter asks once Tony is sitting back down. 

“May called, said you were probably having a rough day and she wanted me to pick you up early.” 

“Oh.” Peter pulls his feet up onto the seat and tucks his knees to his chest. He glances over at Tony and sees an expression of pity and concern on his face. “She told you what today is, didn’t she?” 

“Yeah, kid.” Tony reaches over and squeezes Peter’s shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Peter shakes his head and looks out the window, “All I want to do is not exist.” 

Tony sighs, “I understand the feeling, kiddo. But I’m afraid that’s not possible with our current technology. Would you settle for some ice cream and maybe a movie or two?” 

“Cookie dough?” Peter asks quietly, glancing back at Tony.

Tony smiles, “What other flavor is there?” A faint smile crossed Peter’s lips. 

Once they get to the tower and up to the living room, Tony lovingly forces Peter to sit on the couch while he goes and gets the ice cream from the freezer. Peter immediately tugs the softest blanket into his lap and toes off his shoes. When Tony sits down beside Peter, the boy instantly curls into his mentor’s side, resting his head on Tony’s shoulder and his knees against Tony’s stomach. Six months ago Peter never would have fathomed being this openly affectionate with Tony, but now Peter couldn’t imagine doing anything else. Tony wraps his arms around the boy’s shoulders and hugs him closer. 

As Peter takes his first bite of ice cream, he suddenly feels just a little bit better. The cold ice cream starts to clear some of the fog from his mind. 

While Peter eats, Tony picks a movie. It’s something animated, light and not too deep. Perfect. It doesn’t escape Peter’s notice that Tony has the volume just low enough that if Peter wanted to say something he could. 

While the opening credits roll, Tony reaches up and begins to run his fingers through Peter’s hair. Peter preens into the touch and sags further into Tony’s side. Peter says nothing for a while, but it’s clear that he’s clearly thinking deeply about something.

“Tony?” Peter asks softly when the movie’s almost over. 

“Mmhm?” 

“Do you think my parents are mad at me?” 

Tony frowns and rubs his arm, “Why would you think that, buddy?” 

Peter shugs, “Because I don’t remember them. They died eleven years ago and all I could do today was try to remember them. I only know what they look like because May shows me pictures sometimes, but I don’t remember the sounds of their voices and I don’t remember anything we did together, I-I don’t even remember the last thing they said to me. I-” 

Peter cuts himself off with a sob that tears Tony’s heart in two. Tony immediately sits up and crushes Peter to his chest. Peter clings to his mentor just as tightly, sobbing into his shirt. “I’ve got you, bambino.” Tony gently runs his fingers through Peter’s hair, rocking him slightly back and forth. Tony whispers words of comfort to the boy. 

After a few minutes, Peter lifts his head, wipes his nose on his sleeve and murmurs, “Sorry.” 

“Hey,” Tony squeezes his shoulder, “you never need to be sorry for crying, okay?” Peter nods shakily and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. “Can I tell you something?” Peter nods. “I don’t remember much about my mother either. I have a few memories, but I know that my mother would never be upset with me for not remembering. I think she’d be happy that I’m moving on with my life. I didn’t know your parents, or your uncle, but I know that if I were to die, I wouldn’t be upset about people forgetting me. I’d be happy that they kept living.” Tony gives Peter a sad smile. 

“Listen, kid, when someone passes, the last thing they want is for the people who love them to stay in their sadness forever. I bet that your parents and your uncle are so proud of the person you’ve become.” Tony squeezes Peter’s shoulder. “It’s okay to be sad and it’s okay to still feel grief over their deaths, but it’s also okay to keep living. Because the people who’re gone aren’t really ever gone, right?” Peter nods tearfully and tucks himself back into Tony’s arms. 

Tony leans back, pulling the kid to rest more on his chest. “It’s going to be okay, bambino, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.” 

Richard, Mary, and Ben are gone. They’re gone but they’ve never stopped loving their son and their nephew. They’ve watched Peter grow up and start to change the world around him. And though they wish they could be there with him to hug him and tell him it’ll be alright, they know that in time they’ll all be together again. And while they wait for him, they’re content to know that Tony Stark is taking good care of him. 

[moonknightly]

and you keep me holding on : santiago “pope” garcia x reader (four)

Word Count: 5.3k

Excerpt: “He cries and he screams and he curses every higher power he can think of until his voice is strained with the effort. He bargains, he pleads. He prays, and then he curses again.”

Warnings: Blood, violence, gun violence, cursing, meh

[SERIES MASTERLIST] 

OCTOBER 20TH - DAY FOUR

The precinct is busier than usual when Santi walks in the following morning. There are twice as many people, twice as many noises, twice as many reasons for Santi to be annoyed.

So many FBI agents. So many sounds. It’s complete sensory overload.

He stops after taking only a few steps off of the elevator, shaking his head, trying his hardest to push his irritation down. He’d been livid when Cameron announced that she was no longer letting the squad work on the case, and he hadn’t been the only one to let their anger show, but if Santi is being completely honest, he knew it had been coming.

It didn’t make it any easier, though. It felt like giving up in a way, even though that was the last thing he was willing to do.

Giving up would never be an option.

And fuck, the idea that it would one day be expected of him made his blood boil.

Santi takes a couple of deep breaths. He lets his eyes fall shut for just a moment, willing himself to stay calm. He shakes his head once, twice, and then starts to move towards an empty desk Cameron was letting him use. He can hear bits and pieces of the different conversations going on around him as he walks, but he can’t bring himself to actually pay attention to what’s being said.

He plops himself down into his chair, and before he has even a moment to make himself comfortable, he feels someone come up behind him and stop just a few feet away. He twists in his chair, spinning it around to face whoever has decided to sneak up on him and was surprised to notice that it wasn’t one, but two people — both agents.

“Need something?”

Santi doesn’t mean to sound so sarcastic, and while one of the agents chuckles a little bit, the other looks rather unimpressed with his attitude.

The second one — the one wearing a glare that quickly morphs into a arrogant smirk — shoves his hands into his pockets and tilts his head curiously at Santi.

“Maybe.”

Yeah, he fucking hates this guy.

Santi waits for the agent to continue, but several seconds pass in silence and he can’t stop himself from slowly raising an eyebrow in question.

“Okay…” Santi mumbles, dragging out the “y”, still waiting.

“I’m Agent Barnes, and this is Agent Graves.”

Santi glances towards the other agent, Graves, who smiles gently at him and gives him a quick nod. He definitely likes this one better.

Barnes rocks back and forth on his heels, still smirking to himself as he says her name under his breath. “We’d like to talk to you about her disappearance, if that’s alright with you.”

Santi can’t help but flinch at the cold way in which Barnes says her name. He can tell the sudden movement piqued Barnes interest, but he isn’t about to explain himself, doesn’t feel the need to.

“Sure, I’d love to talk about my wife,” Santi responds, eyes narrowed and lips upturned into something that resembles a grimace.

Barnes takes a few steps forward and comes to lean against Santi’s desk while Graves stays where he’d been standing. Pope folds his arms across his chest.

“When was the last time you saw her?” Barnes asks, looking down at Santi, his eyes staying trained on his face. Santi holds his gaze, taking it like some sort of challenge almost.

He absolutely loathes the bastard.

“On the sixteenth. She stopped by after she left the hospital and I walked her downstairs.”

“And at what time was that?”

“At about eight,” Santi answers, shrugging his shoulders gently. He hadn’t been looking at the clock, he’d been looking at her.

“And why didn’t you go home with her?”

“I had a lot of paperwork and she was tired. I needed to stay and there was no reason for her to.”

Barnes nods his head once, seeming to think over the information Santi just gave him in a way that makes him roll his eyes again.

“And what time would you say you made it home that night?”

“You know, I’m starting to feel like this is an interrogation, not an interview. Look, I’ve already told all of this to-”

“It’s just a simple question.”

Santi is frustrated, because all of the times, all of the facts, they’re all written down in her file, and he’s positive that the agents had already looked through the notes.

“About fifteen minutes after midnight.”

The passive expression Barnes is sporting quickly morphs into a smirk — one that honestly makes Santi want to deck him but also makes him so sick to his stomach at the same time.

“How long does it usually take for you to get home?”

“Twenty minutes, give or take.”

“That’s funny.”

Santi furrows his eyebrows, ready to slam his hand down onto the desk and demand Barnes just get to the fucking point, but before he can even blink the agent is continuing on with his words.

“You scanned out of your office at eleven that night. Only twenty minutes home...”

No. There’s no fucking way he’s about to-

“That leaves almost an hour that you have unaccounted for.”

Santi is completely and utterly floored at what Barnes is implying. He can only stare in shock for several seconds, jaw slack, tips of his ears turning bright red as heat flooded his body.

“You think that I killed my wife.”

It isn’t a question, but rather a statement — a statement that Santi never imagined he would find himself saying. He scoffs and shakes his head in disbelief.

“We don’t-” Graves starts to say, but his partner quickly cuts him off, silencing him with a simple wave of his hand that only pisses Santi off even further.

“I didn’t say that,” Barnes says, voice lacking any distinguishable emotion.

Santi scoffs again and quickly stands, feeling like it gave him some sort of advantage even though he was several inches shorter than the other man.

“I would never do anything to hurt my wife.”

“I’m not saying that you did, but maybe,” Barnes starts, that damn smirk returning full force. “Maybe you and Nathan...”

“Okay, now you’ve gone too far,” Santi fumes, taking a step closer to Barnes, getting ready to wind his arm back so he can just-.

“Garcia,” Cameron calls out from where she’s standing, about ten feet away.

Santi hadn’t noticed her approach.

“Do you hear this bullshit? Did you hear-”

“Santiago,” she interrupts, effectively silencing him. She rarely calls him by his full name, and when she does, it was used as a form of comfort that Santi didn’t even know he needed until just now. He swallows the lump in his throat and glances towards his feet, trying to push his anger away, giving way to the shame at the fact that someone could ever think he’d hurt her.

“I wouldn’t hurt her. You know I wouldn’t do that.”

Cameron places her hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle yet firm squeeze like she’s done so many times recently. “I know.”

Of course she knows. Santi loves her more than any person had ever loved another. She is, and always will be, his entire world, his reason for getting out of bed in the morning and his reason for breathing, and Cameron can’t understand how someone could even insinuate that he might be involved in her kidnapping. Santi has a temper and that’s no secret to anyone, but he would never, ever do something to hurt his wife, not even in the midst of the most heated argument would he imagine laying a single finger on her.

“I wouldn’t.”

Santi looks towards Cameron with such hopelessness and desperation trapped in his irises. He’s pleading with her, begging her to just believe him. He’s convinced that she agrees with Barnes.

“We all know.”

She squeezes again, and after her words have a few seconds to settle in, it seems to be enough, at least for the moment.

Santi’s shoulders seem to relax, just a fraction, and he sucks in a sharp breath. He nods his head once, solemnly so, and mumbles something that sounds like an excuse under his breath before retreating towards the locker rooms. No one follows, he doesn’t want anyone to. He just needs a few seconds to himself, a moment to push the nausea and the nerves and the worry away, even though he knows they would only return.

What Santi really needs is for this to all just be some sort of twisted, fucked up nightmare.

What Santi really needs is her.

OCTOBER 21ST — DAY FIVE

Cameron makes Santi take the rest of the day off. He tries to argue with her, giving her the same reasons he had before, but nothing seems to convince her to let him stay. Ideally, she didn’t even want him to leave Jay’s apartment the next day either, and this time, he decides to just shut up and listen.

She wants him to sleep in until noon, watch as many movies as he possibly can, call his mother back, and actually eat something more than a few bites of whatever fast food or microwavable meal he’d been forced to buy.

Normally, Santi wouldn’t complain about doing any of those things, but today is different. He needs something to focus on that will keep his mind quiet. He feels that he needs a distraction today more than any other day so far.

Because today is their two year wedding anniversary, and he is losing his mind by doing nothing.

It’s just after six p.m., and he’d woken up at five in the morning with no possible chance of getting back to sleep. The TV is turned off, and Santi has no desire to stand up and find the remote, and even if he does turn something on, he knows he won’t be able to properly focus on it. The bagel he’d made that morning is still sitting half eaten on the coffee table, and he didn’t even bother to make himself lunch.

Nothing Cameron wanted him to do came even close to being done, but Santi just can’t bring himself to do anything other than play a word game on his phone.

But he knows that he needs to call his mother back. He still hasn’t spoken to her, and she’s still calling him a few times each day, leaving message after message each time she’s met with the familiar “beep” of his voicemail. His father had started to do the same, even going as far as to send him a text message that read “If we didn’t know any better, we would think you’re missing too”. He deleted it right after opening it.

He just needs to get it over with

Santi sighs gently, closing out of his game and pulling up his contacts, scrolling until he found his mother’s name. He hits the call button, his stomach flipping as he waits.

She answers after the first ring, the worry in her voice sounding in Santi’s ears, the guilt of not answering any of her hundreds of calls suddenly weighing on his shoulders. He didn’t mean to cause her any sort of panic or grief, but what did he think ignoring her calls would do, especially in a situation like this?

“Hey Mamá,” he mumbles into the phone, voice hoarse from not having used it all day.

The relief in his mother’s voice after she hears him speak instantly makes that guilt grow into something that nearly swallows him whole, and his chest tightens as he listens to her cry in what he hoped was ease after finally hearing from him and not hurt because she just now heard from him.

About five minutes pass before the conversation moves from Santi’s apparent inability to answer his phone to what he knows his mother has been calling about, and what has been the only thing on his mind for the last five days.

“Have you found anything?”

Santi feels a lump form in his throat, and he suddenly loses the ability to speak properly. This has been his reality for the better part of a week — talking about her and thinking about her every second of every day, which really isn’t any different from normal except for the fact that it now made his heart ache rather than fill him with joy.

He briefly tells his mother what happened in Princeton and Allentown, though he assumes she’d already heard. If you turned on the news for even two minutes, you would see her name and her picture flash across the screen, accompanied by Nathan’s, which never failed to make Santi’s rage blossom all over again.

“At least I know she’s alive,” Santi mutters after a brief pause where neither of them could find the right words to say, thinking back to the picture from the other day. “The amount of blood...Mamá, I was so fuckin’ scared that she was de-”

Santi’s voice cracks, and he can’t bring himself to finish his words. Saying that he’s afraid out loud is probably the most candid he’s been since the start of it all. He still hasn’t let himself cry, not really, but the one tear that fell down his cheek is all it took for the dam to break loose.

He pulls the phone away from his ear, but he doesn’t hang up. He simply lets it fall to the couch beside him as he brings his other hand up to his mouth, covering it as a broken sob passes his lips. His mother continues to listen on the other end, and her heart shatters for her son as well as his wife. She recounts an almost silent prayer just as Santi curses God’s name, and she can’t even bring herself to chastise him for using such language. She would’ve done the same if she were feeling even half of what Santi is.

All of Santi’s emotions continue to pour out of him in a violent downfall, like a storm that held no mercy, leaving a gaping hole in his chest that threatens to swallow him whole. He cries and he screams and he curses every higher power he can think of until his voice is strained with the effort. He bargains, he pleads. He prays, and then he curses again. His mother listens the entire time.

Several minutes pass like this, and once he’s sure that there are no more tears left for him to cry, after he feels like he would pass out if he shed even one more, he picks the phone back up slowly, though he stays completely silent. After several seconds, his mother says his name gently.

“I’m here,” he mumbles, no emotion left in his voice at all.

His mother seems to be thinking about her words, choosing them carefully as to not upset him any further. “Maybe you should think about coming home for a few days.”

Santi doesn’t respond, and after another moment spent in silence, she speaks again. “You know, I just don’t think you should be alone tonight…”

“You remembered,” he grumbles quietly, his voice hardly audible.

“Of course I did Santiago, but regardless of whether it’s your anniversary or not, maybe you just-”

“You know what Mamá,” he interrupts, cutting her off. “I, uh — I actually have plans tonight.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, Jay just got this new video game and we were gonna order a pizza or somethin’ for dinner,” he lies, though there was absolutely nothing in his tone to give him away. “I won’t be alone, promise.”

She seems to accept his answer, and doesn’t question him any further. She even sounds slightly enthusiastic about it, saying that it sounds like the kind of distraction Santi needs. He has to physically bite his tongue in order to keep himself from scoffing.

They say their goodbyes shortly after, and Santi throws his phone onto the couch cushion beside him, a deep sigh escaping his lips as he stares at the floor for what feels like an hour when it was probably only two minutes.

He and Jay don’t have any plans.

There’s no video game, no pizza. He feels slightly bad for lying to his mother, but a larger part of him just wants to save her the worry and trouble.

He quickly stands from the couch and switches out his sweatpants for a pair of jeans, but can’t find the effort to change out of his old PT sweatshirt, the one she always stole from him. He runs his fingers through his hair, not bothering to style it. He hasn’t shaved in a few days and he’s sporting a decent beard that he knew she would love.

He grabs his wallet and the spare key Jay’d given him, picked up his phone and sent him a text, also lying to him about his location and his plans, and set out the door.

Not ten seconds pass before Jay is texting him back, telling Santi they’d caught a case and he wouldn’t be home until later that night anyways.

Santi doesn’t think twice about it, and simply shoves his phone into his pocket before heading to the subway.

Their apartment is dark when Santi arrives a half hour later. He doesn’t bother to flip on the light in the entryway, and takes a moment to just stand there, his back against the wooden door, fingers tracing each groove.

It almost feels normal, like any other day. It feels like Santi had just gotten off work for the night and he’s taking a moment to decompress before he would make his way to the bedroom, where he would find her curled up under the sheets, her head on his pillow as she waited for him to come home to her.

But she always made sure that the lamp in the living room was on for him, and she had a habit of leaving the TV running until he got in. Neither are on, and only silence and darkness and solitude surround him.

Santi kicks his shoes off by the door before pushing away from it, taking a few tentative steps into the apartment. The room is slightly illuminated from the glittering lights of Manhattan, just enough for Santi to see around the outlines and shapes of things. It’s strange — everything looks the same, smells the same, but it feels so completely different. So completely foreign.

Lifeless.

A few things are out of place, like the blanket they kept on the back of the couch, now on the floor, and the couple of books they kept stacked on the coffee table are shifted a few inches to the left. Santi folds the blanket and puts it back in its place, moves the books back, and then walks slowly into the bedroom.

The smell of her perfume instantly hits him upon entering, and he has to grip the doorframe to keep himself from stumbling backwards. He sways on his feet, and closes his eyes for just a moment, taking a deep breath to, hopefully, steady himself as he reaches to his right to flip on the light. He keeps his eyes tightly shut for another moment before slowly opening them to finally take in his surroundings.

The bedroom is far worse than the main living area. The pillows from the bed are tossed to the floor, the sheets and comforter twisted together in a knot that Santi knew he would struggle to get out. There’s a small strand of yellow police tape on the floor that Santi doesn’t understand why it’s there, as they had only blocked the front door with it. Both of their bedside drawers are still pulled open, and he can see that the bathroom light is still on.

The bathroom.

Santi moves without intending to do so, and he feels his feet carry him towards their ensuite almost as if he’s on autopilot. He reaches the threshold in just a few short seconds, and at first, his brain doesn’t exactly process what he’s seeing, doesn’t fully make the connection and he only stands there, confused and bewildered.

No one’s been by to clean up yet, and blood still covers every surface Santi chooses to set his eyes on, only now, it’s dry, and more brown than it is red. The shower curtain had been taken away by the crime scene techs, as had the bathmat and the various hand towels that had been covered in crimson. Santi is almost positive that there isn’t as much glass on the floor as there had been before, which made sense — the techs would have taken some of it as well. But the floor and the walls and the counter...it looks like the kind of murder scene one would see in a grotesque horror film.

There’s even a handprint on the side of the tub that Santi knows belonged to himself. He’d used the tub to hold himself up, to keep himself from collapsing further after falling to his knees. He looks towards the cabinet under the sink to find a second handprint, right where he knew it would be. He had caught himself there, too.

He stands in the doorway for what must have been five minutes at least, staring at the blood and the glass and the wreckage, and he feels absolutely nothing. If anything, he feels completely and utterly numb to it all. Part of him can’t believe that what he’s looking at is real, and the other part won’t allow his brain to connect the dots.

He knows it’s her blood, in their cozy little apartment in Manhattan, and yet, he still feels like he’s standing in the middle of any old crime scene, where any old victim had been murdered by their enraged boyfriend. He’d seen it so many times before, back when he was a detective. It doesn’t seem any different now.

He tries to make sense of it in his head, tries to use sound logic and the knowledge of what he’d learned in his psychology classes throughout college to figure out why he’s feeling the way that he is, but nothing made sense. He just feels so entirely disconnected.

Another few minutes pass before Santi is finally able to turn his gaze away from the carnage. A small bout of nausea hits his stomach, but he chooses to ignore it. He’s learned that if he doesn’t pay attention to it, the less likely he is to lose what little his stomach holds at any given time. He wipes a stray tear away from his cheek, one he wouldn’t have noticed if the cool air from the vent hadn’t hit his face, and steps away from the bathroom.

His next destination is the closet. Nothing in there has been touched or moved to his knowledge, and for some reason, he feels comfort in that. He sighs gently and grabs an empty bag from the corner. This time, he’s more careful when choosing what clothes he would bring with him, because he has no plans on returning to the apartment anytime soon, not without a stack of moving boxes and a U-Haul at the very least. He decides right then and there that he’s breaking the lease early and finding somewhere else to move immediately. Just having the apartment in his name makes his skin crawl and he wants out, wants nothing to do with it. And not only that, but as well as he knows his wife, he knows that if-

When they find her, she won’t want to be anywhere near the apartment.

But he also knows that there’s a part of her that will want to keep it just to prove a point, to show that she’s more than what had been done to her, and the thought of that makes him smile just a tiny bit.

“Stubborn ass,” he mumbles under his breath, a small, sad chuckle following just after.

He needs to get out of there.

Santiago gathers all of the clothes he figures he’ll need and turns to leave the closet when his eyes catch a familiar flash of gray, just like they had five nights before.

Nevada is still where Santi had dropped him, just lying on the floor, forgotten. She would’ve been so upset had she seen him just tossed aside like that, and that thought also causes Santi to grin to himself. She loves that damn wolf more than anything, would often swear that she loves him more than she loves Santi but he’s always thought it was so adorable how attached she was to the stuffed animal that he doesn’t even mind. She’d always treated Nevada as if he were a living, breathing thing.

He walks over to him, gently kneeling down to take him into his hands, his smile growing slightly as he feels the matted “fur” against his fingertips.

Santi slowly flips Nevada over, finding that her rings are still shoved onto the tail, just like they had been before. At first, he didn’t think that he would find them there, and he can’t exactly explain to himself why. He gently pulls them off, letting the cool metal settle in the palm of his hand.

All he can do is stare at them for several seconds, and it feels as if a rock settles and grows in the pit of his stomach the longer he he holds them. He closes his fist around the two rings, mumbling something that sounds like a promise — a promise that he’ll find her, and that he’ll bring her justice no matter the outcome — before shoving them into the pocket of his jeans.

He glances at his own wedding band for a moment, sitting on his ring finger, the silver glistening in the light, just like it had every single day since they said “I do”.

Two whole years to the day.

He’d planned to take her away for the weekend to celebrate their anniversary. It was supposed to be special, romantic, just the two of them alone in Boston without a care in the world. He’d had it planned for months now.

Does she know what day it is, wherever she is? Does she remember, or even realize how many days have passed?

Fuck that. Santi hates himself for even wondering, because it made him feel so completely selfish.

And he hates himself even more when he reaches to slide his wedding band off of his finger.

He failed her, he doesn’t deserve to wear it. He doesn’t deserve to call himself her husband.

When-

If they find her — which also makes Santi hate himself, because he’s beginning to pay attention to the numbers and the statistics and he’s starting to look at it as a recovery instead of a rescue — will she even want to still be married to him?

Will she still love him? Or will she hate him for letting this happen to her?

He slowly drops his hand, leaving the band on his ring finger. He’s sure he’ll never be able to take it off. Even if he never sees her again, he was sure the band will remain on his finger until he’s rotting in the ground (like he deserved, but he pushed the thought away, not wanting to wallow in his own self loathing).

He will always be her husband, unless she explicitly tells him that it’s no longer what she wants.

Santi shakes his head and tries to turn his brain off. He doesn’t want to think about that right now.

He shoves Nevada into his bag, zips it close, and makes his way out towards the foyer. He turns off every light in the apartment before leaving, locking the door behind him without looking back once. He can’t stand to be in there any longer, not liking where his mind is headed while standing in the middle of all that had once been theirs.

He arrives back at Jay’s shortly after, expecting him to still be gone on whatever case he’d been talking about, surprised when he finds the other detective standing in the middle of the living room. It looks as if he’d been pacing, his hands on his hips and a blank expression on his face that Santi can’t read.

“What’s up?” Santi asks, throwing his bag onto the floor by the door, deciding he would worry about finding a spot to put it away later.

Jay stays silent for close to a minute, seeming to be lost in thought before he finally speaks, voice low and eyes looking everywhere but at Santi. His tone sounds cold yet so full of emotion at the same time.

“Nathan emailed you a video tonight. Your account is being monitored and we intercepted it before you could see it.”

Santi’s blood runs cold, and he feels frozen in place. He wants to ask Jay what it is, but he can’t make himself speak, doesn’t remember how to use his voice. Instead, he just swallows the lump that had formed in his throat and looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

It takes Jay several seconds to speak again, and when he finally does, Santi is sure that he would’ve preferred for him to just stay fucking quiet.

“Santi, Nathan shot her.”

Jay has tears in his eyes, and Santi still can’t move. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t fucking move move. Can’t speak, can’t think, can’t process the other man’s words. He can’t do anything.

“They’re working on tracing the email but we...the FBI said they have enough reason to believe that she’s-”

Jay can’t bring himself to finish his sentence, but Santi understands. He understands perfectly, though he wished he didn’t.

Nathan shot her, and they have enough reason to believe it was fatal.

But it doesn’t sit right with Santiago.

Something about it feels off, feels wrong. He was sure he would’ve felt something in his gut, like people say they do in books and movies when someone they care about is hurt or in trouble. But then again, he hadn’t felt anything out of the ordinary when she had been taken. But if she had been killed, he was almost certain he would have felt something — some instinct in the back of his mind, anything.

“She’s not,” Santi snaps, voice hard with emotion though it broke on the last word at the same time. “She’s not dead.”

“Santi,” Jay chastises sternly, exasperation evident in his voice.

“She’s not dead.”

“You didn’t see the video!” Jay yells, sliding his hand down his face as the pain and anger takes over his entire body. “You didn’t see it and you should be thankful that you didn’t have to.”

It’s obvious that what Jay had seen in the video traumatized him, and was enough to make him think for himself that she’s dead, but Santi just can’t accept it. He doesn’t know if it’s the denial talking, or if what he’s feeling is actually real, but after repeating himself for a third time, he feels the world come crashing down around him, he feels everything stop.

Santi’s knees give out, and he crumples, eyes rolling into the back of his head. Jay catches him before he can hit the floor.

Everything is black.

Santi’s heart, his world — it’s nothing but black.

[keanureevesisbae]

The alluring charm of Henry Cavill - Epilogue

Summary: A few months have passed. How are Adelaide and Henry holding up? 

Henry Cavill x Adelaide Park (ofc)

Wordcount: 2k

Warnings: None

Masterlist // Previous chapter //

‘Hello everybody,’ Henry says into the camera.

His beautiful girlfriend sits next to him on a chair, but since she is so short, her legs are dangling off the chair, while he has planted both of his feet on the floor. He looks to the side, simply to take in her beauty, even if it’s just for a short time. ‘My name is Adelaide Park.’

‘And I am Henry Cavill and we are doing the Wired Autocomplete Interview.’

Henry watches these types of interviews religiously and he always wanted to do this. And now he gets to do it with his gorgeous Adelaide.

They recently starred in a new romantic comedy: I’m sorry I hit you with my car. It’s about a woman named Jazz Mitchells, who accidentally hits one of the top attorneys in the country Declan Stanford with her car.  Because of the impact, Declan permanently loses his vision. Jazz feels so guilty, she decides she should become his assistent, since she has a law degree, but due to personal matter hasn’t used it. Obviously—it’s a romantic comedy—they fall in love with one another, though Declan has never seen Jazz. It’s hard on him, since he—surprise surprise—is extremely superficial and only cares about looks.

When Henry read the script, he was slightly intrigued, however when Adelaide was sent the script as well, because the director wanted her as Jazz Mitchels, he was more than intrigued. Starring alongside his crazily talented girlfriend made the experience worth while. People already speculated they are dating again, however they have yet to go public. They made up nine months ago, but keep their relationship pretty under the radar. They started out in the public eye and that went south. Despite the two of them not being involved in reality tv, they wanted to take it slow, without the hot and demanding breaths of the fans and paparazzi in their necks.

Henry holds the board for Adelaide, as she peels off the sticker to reveal the first question. ‘Is Adelaide Park Korean?’ She nods as she looks into the camera. ‘One hundred percent.’

Henry can’t help but stare at her and when her eyes meet his, she flashes him a lovely smile. He’ll never get tired of seeing that smile.

‘Is Adelaide Park related to Park Jimin from BTS?’ She starts to chuckle. ‘No, but I wish. Wouldn’t that be super awesome? If that were the case though, I’d rub that fact into people’s faces everywhere I go. Okay, next one: is Adelaide Park tall?’

Henry can’t help but snort. ‘She is everything but tall,’ he says, before she gets the chance to answer it.

She pouts as she looks his way and his heart swells at the sight. ‘No?’

‘Sorry, Addy.’ He bumps his knee against hers.

‘Is Adelaide Park Lara Croft?’ Adelaide’s smile becomes brighter and brighter. ‘Well, I’m going to portray her very very soon. I’m so excited, because this will be my first action packed movie.’

Henry looks to the side again, as he watches her beam with pride. When she got the dreading phone call she had been waiting for and the director told her she got the part, she kept it very professional over the phone. However, the second she hung up, tears filled her eyes and she stood in the middle of the kitchen, as she cried with happiness. For the first time she was going to broaden her movie horizon, something she wanted to do so for such a long time. Adelaide is already training pretty hard, so she’s got a more athletic appearance.

He loves the way she is, but the determination she has for this movie, is something he recognizes instantly. Besides, he loves spending even more time with her, as he goes to the same gym as her and together they work out. He even came to the point where he threw everything remotely unhealthy out, so he can eat healthy with her. It’s hard enough already to eat healthy, let alone when he is going to eat his usual snacks right under her nose.

Adelaide has reached the end of the board already and Henry hands it to the woman who gives him the next board. His girlfriend pries the board out of his hands, so she can hold it for him, just like he did for her.

‘Okay, let’s see,’ he says, as he peels off the top sticker. ‘Is Henry Cavill Superman?’ He looks to Adelaide. ‘Am I? I’ve heard I look like the actor, but I don’t really see it.’

She studies his face. ‘Hmm… No, Superman is way hotter than you.’

He spots the mischievous smile on her face that he has come to love. She sticks out her tongue and he can’t help but smile at her.

‘Is Henry Cavill a nerd? I think I qualify as a nerd.’

Adelaide’s eyes widen. ‘You think? You are the biggest nerd I have ever encountered, you dork.’

Henry bumps his shoulder against hers. ‘Is Henry Cavill dating Adelaide Park?’

After they talked about it over coffee and took a swim, they have been on multiple dates and it didn’t take long before they simply fell into their trusted routines. He moved into her apartment when filming and promoting became a daily routine for awhile and the second he stepped in, he realized he was home.

Not long after that, he met her parents. Adelaide is a copy of her dad, look wise and personality wise.They have the same smile and share the same adorable traits; when they eat, they pout, when they watch a movie, they frown. Her mother on the other hand, is a lot more serious and continued to threaten him. She told him multiple times in an ice cold way how she’ll run him over multiple times with her electrical wheelchair if he ever hurts her again.

He is not doubting her at all, but he can guarantee he’ll never do something that idiotic again. He loves Adelaide more than anything in the world and he would be an absolute moron if he ever let her go.

When they were casted for this romantic comedy together, it was such a magical moment. Despite him playing a blind man for seventy five percent of the movie (minus the beginning and the multiple flashbacks), during certain scenes he couldn’t stop staring at Adelaide. Taking in her beauty was becoming so normal for him, that not doing that felt wrong.

During their sex scene, the director wanted to put the focus on him taking in her beauty with his touch, instead with his sight. Touching her wasn’t a problem for him, because he loved touching her, but not getting turned on by her was the hardest part of it all and let’s just say he had to drag her to his trailer afterwards.

‘I am dating Adelaide Park,’ Henry finally says with a disgusting grin on his face. ‘I know a lot of people have been suspecting it for awhile now, but I can confirm that as a matter of fact, we are indeed dating.’ He holds her hand and she starts to blush, because he looks at her, probably with heart eyes, since that always makes her blush. ‘And I’m so incredibly lucky.’

◎ ◎ ◎

When they are home, Adelaide kicks off her shoes and rushes to the couch. With her eyes closed, she is sprawled out on the cushions. ‘Henry,’ she calls out for him, causing him to walk over to her. He sits on the edge of the couch and she holds out her hands for him. ‘Can I have a hug?’ she asks with a slight pout. ‘I don’t feel too good.’

‘Why, love? What’s wrong?’ Henry asks, placing her hand on her cheek.

‘I think I’ve got that nasty flu,’ she says. ‘I felt a little funny during the interview, but now I can finally relax and I feel even worse than before.’ Adelaide sighs and closes her eyes again. ‘Please? That hug?’

He gets on the couch with her, lifting her on his chest and wraps his arms tightly around her. When Henry gently kisses her forehead, he notices she is already heating up a bit. ‘Ah, my love, I think you might be right. Good thing I love taking care of you. You’ll be better in no time.’

‘We need to cancel my parents,’ she mentions. They were supposed to meet them tomorrow, but knowing Adelaide she doesn’t want her mother coming down with this, something that he completely understands, though he is a bit disappointed they are not going to her parents. Spending time with the Parks, is always nice and he loves her parents as if they were his own. Hearing their stories from pre-actress Adelaide are both heartbreaking and encouraging. They love one another in a way they’ll know they can rely on each other. ‘How about we’ll prepare the couch, so it’s a bit more comfortable for us and I’ll make you some chicken broth? You want to watch some tv or a movie?’

She looks up at him with glassy eyes, a clear sign she is indeed coming down with something. ‘I know you wanted to hang out with David tonight and you can still do that. I’m a big girl, I can manage.’

He was jealous of what Adelaide and David had. They were very close friends and a simply look was enough for them to tell each other a lot. Now David Castañeda is one of his best friends and he loves it when they can hang out together. ‘Not when you’re sick. David will understand.’ He lets his hand run over her cheek. ‘I’m sorry you feel like this.’

She shrugs. ‘There have been plenty of moments where I was all alone when I was sick. Now you are here with me, that makes it more doable. Besides, I took care of you and your upset stomach a few weeks ago. It’s only fair that you take care of me right now.’

He chuckles. ‘It’s my absolute pleasure, love.’

After he prepared the couch for her, even helped her changing into something more comfortable and removed her make-up, he heats up some soup for her, as she is watching television. He has already called off David, who actually has come down with a bit of a sore throat himself and rather hangs on his mother’s couch, so they’ll simply reschedule.

Henry plops on the couch again and Adelaide maneuvers herself between his legs, her back against his chest, as she eats her soup.

Henry prizes himself lucky every single day that he is dating this wonderful woman, who has shown him so much. He fucked it up once, but that is not going to happen again. They are in this together and they are going to stay in this together. The movie industry can be a tough one and at first he dreaded the times that he would be in LA, missing his family dearly. However, now he is with Adelaide and no matter where they are, as long as they are together, they are home.

His phone vibrates and he sees he has a message from his brother. He quickly opens it, discretely so Adelaide won’t see it.

Piers: I can finally officially tell you: the arrangements are made. Good thing you told me this far ahead, because that place is booked when it comes to proposals.

Piers: You sure you can wait nine months before you propose to her?

Henry smiles at his phone, before he presses a kiss in Adelaide’s nape. ‘I love you, Addy,’ he whispers to her. ‘You do know that right?’

‘Of course I know that,’ she says as she looks to the side. ‘I love you too.’ When she focuses back on the movie again, he quickly types back a message.

Henry: I can wait, no matter how hard it may seem. I love her a lot, Piers and I’m not letting her go.

Piers: I know you do. Now when are we going ring shopping?

◎ ◎ ◎

A/N: I can’t believe this is the end of this fic 😭😭 Adelaide and Henry are amazing, but I think this is a good place to end the story. I wanna say thank you to everyone who read this. You are fantastic and thank you for the kind words 😘

[dreamypeaches]

don’t wake up pt. 6 | rafe cameron x reader

summary: after the night at the kegger, you and rafe tend to your broken hearts

warnings: alcohol use, cursing, drug mention, angst

word count: 3.9k

a/n: okay, so, i know i said this would be the last part, but it was getting so long and I had a great stopping point so there will be one more part after this. enjoy :)

series masterlist

Heartbreak is not a  physical sickness, but it can consume a mind like nothing else. As you lay in your bed, your mind constantly filters through every moment, every word, every touch over the course of your relationship with Rafe, trying to figure out if there was something more you could have done. It had only been about two months, but love can feel like a lifetime. And you could very safely say that you were in love with Rafe Cameron, even if he did break your heart.

Three days had passed since the Kegger and you had yet to leave you and your sister’s shared room. It was pathetic really, laying there in silence staring at the wall. You had at least two playlists that you used when you were sad, but even music reminded you of Rafe now. He had called, texted, left voicemails, but you refused to even read or listen to them. It was too much right now.

The Pogues had tried to console you, comfort you in anyway they could but you could hear their thoughts beneath the soothing tone of their voices. That’s what you get when you date a Kook. Especially Rafe Cameron.

Your sisters tried to comfort you too, to the best of their ability, but they were both busy with work, so most of your days were spent with your nephews and niece. Your niece, Jones, was the oldest, five years old and acted more mature than she should, but that was how it was on the Cut. She could tell something was wrong, and cuddled with you on the couch while the four of you watched Disney movies on repeat. You had called into work, not wanting to face anything for the rest of time.

It was lunch time, you were busy in the kitchen making sandwiches for the little ones. There was a knock at the door and all three of the children raced and wrestled each other to be the first to open it. You heard someone talking, but couldn’t make it out.

“Aunt Y/N, there’s a boy here,” Jones appeared at your side with a concerned look on her face, “and he looks like a Kook.”

You dropped the knife you were using to cut the sandwich, a quiet bang echoing through the kitchen. There was only one Kook who would show up at your door. You took Jones’ outstretched hand. She led you to the door where your two and three year old nephews were glaring up at the man standing there, the older one punching him in the leg. They learned early not to trust a Kook.

“Kelce?” You asked, furrowing your brows at the Kook in your doorway. He was grinning down at your attacking nephew, but the grin faded at the sound of your voice. He looked suddenly solemn, giving you a weak smile. You noticed a small box in his hands but couldn’t make out what was inside

“Can we talk?” You nodded, prying your nephew from Kelce’s leg and urging them inside and back to the living room. You turned back to Kelce who looked so out of place you almost laughed. Crossing your arms across your chest, you surveyed Kelce, waiting for him to say something.

Rafe had always spoken highly of Kelce, the nicer of his two friends. Before you had dated Rafe, Kelce had always been the Kook you were least intimidated by. Sure, he was still a dick to your friends, but you had never seen him throw a punch or heard him shout some horrible name at you. So you were ready to hear him out. If it had been Topper, you would have let your nephews bite his leg off.

“You need to talk to Rafe,” He said. You scoffed.

“I don’t need to do shit.”

“Please, Y/N! I know he hurt you and he does too. I’m not saying you need to forgive him but at least listen to him. He’s a mess. I’ve known him my whole life and he’s been bad before but this time…” Kelce trailed off, looking down at his feet and shaking his head.

“Just call him, please. You don’t even have to talk, just listen to what he has to say.”

“Did he send you?” You questioned.

“No, I’m just here as his best friend. He fucked up, bad, but he loves you.” You scoffed again. Kelce held out the box to you and you took it hesitantly,

“I found him this morning, passed out drunk. He’d been holding these. I thought you should see.”

He gave you one last nod and turned, walking down the path to his car.

You waited until he had driven away to go back into the house. Returning to the kitchen, you set the box down on the counter. You looked up at your niece and nephews, who were happily eating their sandwiches and watching PJ Masks. You looked back at the box and took a deep breath, having absolutely no idea what you would find inside.

A sob worked it’s way up your throat as you removed the lid to find a rainbow of scattered sticky notes filling it up. You recognized your doodles and handwriting covering them and slapped a hand over your mouth to quiet your cries, not wanting to disturb the kids.

After your first night with Rafe, it became a habit to leave the notes for him. You felt bad sneaking away in the morning, leaving him all alone after the night you had. They were stupid, just something to remind him of you. You hadn’t known it then, but you were already falling hard for him. You had no idea he had kept them. Every. Single. One.

Jones suddenly appeared at your side, staring up at you with a worried look.

“I’m okay, sweetie, don’t worry,” You said, smoothing a hand over her hair. She wrapped her arms around your waist and smashed her face against your side. You accepted the little girls comfort gladly, holding her close to you with one hand while the other sifted through the notes. After the last time you saw Rafe, you had been sure your feelings had been unrequited. How could he do that to you if he really did feel the same? But now, you weren’t so sure.

The moment your older sister got home, you retreated to your room with the box. You looked through every note, picturing Rafe as you did. You thought of how the morning light filtered in through the window, illuminating his bare back. The peaceful look on his face as you sneaked through the door. Then you remembered another Rafe, a Rafe who was already awake by the time you were. An arm thrown around you waist, a sleepy smile on his lips, hair sticking out every which way. Good morning, Angel. A deep and consuming kiss on your lips.

Tears were still silently pooling at the corners of your eyes as you opened your phone, finally opening your text conversation with Rafe.

I’m so sorry, Angel

Please answer me. I fucked up.

Is JJ okay?

Please, Angel, I need to hear your voice.

Y/N, I know I fucked up but please just answer me.

Are you okay?

Please. I need you to know something.

Please answer your phone

The waiting tears spilled out as you read through the several texts he had sent over the past few days. Taking a deep breath, you tapped on his name and held the phone up to your ear. He answered almost immediately.

“Y/N!” His voice was deep and scratchy and desperate. You wanted to reach through the phone and give him a hug.

“Angel, please say something, I need to hear your voice.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, half of you wanting the end the call and through your phone in the ocean. The other half wanted to drive down to Figure 8 and hold him in your arms.

“Just say what you need to say, Rafe.”

You hear him sigh, half relieved half terrified. Then he starts crying

“I-I’m so sorry. I fucked up so bad and I hurt you, and I can’t forgive myself. You shouldn’t forgive me either. I know Kelce came to see you and showed that box. I hope it helps you realize how much you mean to me because…fuck…you mean the world to me Y/N. You may not think so because of what happened the other night, but you are the best thing that ever happened to me. Before you found me on the beach I though I would never be happy. That I didn’t fucking deserve to be happy. But you changed that. You loved me so much that I had to believe I could be loved. ‘Cause if someone like you loves someone like me,” He laughs and you choke back a sob, “than I must be pretty great.”

You barely hear him over the sound of your own sobs. Trying to picture him here, right in front of you, you see a dumb smile on his face. That dumb, dopey smile that always appears when your with him. He’s giving you that look. That look he gave you that night at the beach and again that night in the kitchen and again and again every day after. That sparks sits in his voice as he speaks, willing you to understand that it was still there.

“I love you, angel. I fell in love with you under the stars and fell into an endless hole because I will never stop falling. I don’t deserve forgiveness, but I just needed you to know that I am in love with you. I couldn’t go another minute without telling you. What I did was terrible and you should hate me for it. But if I can get even an ounce of your forgiveness, that would be enough.”

Your sobs were still coming, but had decreased in the harshness. You could hear Rafe breathing on the other side of the phone, interrupted every now and again by sniffling. With scotch tape and white glue, your heart was slowly being put back together. It was messy and fragile, but it was a heart nonetheless, put back together by Rafe’s shaking hands and words of love. Taking a deep breath, calming yourself down enough to speak.

“Rafe.” You hear him let out a breath of air.

“Y/N…” Your name is like a prayer

“I love you completely. But you fucked up and you hurt me so…I’m going to need some time.”

Silence. Sniff.

“Okay, angel, whatever you need.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You hang up the phone and throw it to the edge of your bed. Emotions wash over you like a wave, pulling you under and pummeling you against the current. You let out a final sob as you sink into your bed, snuggling into the pillow that quickly became soaked with your tears. The bedroom door creaks open and tiny feet creep in. Jones stands in front of you dressed in her pajamas and clutching her stuffy.

“Do you need a hug?” She asks. You nod vigorously and open your arms to welcome the girl. Her arms circle your torso and squeeze you as hard as five year old can. Giving her a kiss on the head, you hold your niece tight and try to ease your recovering heart.

Jones falls asleep quickly. Laying there, you stare up at the ceiling where glow in the dark stars sill lingered from when you were a child. Rafe runs through your mind like a wild fire, igniting every thought that wasn’t about him. Decisions race through your mind behind it, flashing through quickly, but only one stands out.  

You detach from Jones’ Koala like grip and grab your phone.

To: Sarah Cameron

I need your help.

To say Rafe missed you was an understatement. His life felt different without you, empty. He was so used to you being there everyday. A call, a text, a kiss away. No longer having that luxury made his heart ache. The only thing getting him through the day now was the possibility that he would have another chance.

After your phone call a couple days before, he had clung to the notion like it was the only thing that kept his head above water. You still loved him. You just needed time. Time. Rafe hated time, the cruel bitch. But he would give you it. He’d give you anything.

As Midsummer grew closer, Rafe felt the ache in his heart grow and grow into a numbing pain. That was supposed to be your night. Everyone would know that Rafe Cameron was the luckiest man on Earth. He would sweep you off your feet and tell you he loved you like it was a god damn fairy tale. If only he hadn’t fucked it all up. If only he hadn’t turned to drugs. If only his dad wasn’t a dick. If only he could control his anger. If only.

“Maybank.” Rafe walks up to where the three male Pogues stand on the dock. JJ’s face is black and blue, one lip split, an eye swollen almost shut. Rafe somehow looks worse than him. Dark bags under his eyes and eyes rimmed red from lack of sleep and crying. You still hadn’t called him.

“Fuck off.” JJ spits.

“I’m sorry.” JJ is suddenly convinced Rafe killed him that night. This couldn’t be real.

“About your face I- um - it was uncalled for and…uh…yeah, sorry.”

JJ laughs suddenly, his one good eye glaring.

“Are you fucking serious? You come over to apologize so I can put in a good word with Y/N, is that it? So you can break her heart again?”

Rafe flinches at the malice in his words, dropping his head to look at his feet.

“No, actually, I would prefer if you didn’t tell her I came. I just wanted to try and make things right. I also just need to know…is she okay?”

Despite the colors painting his face, making it unrecognizable, the hate on JJ’s face was evident. The other Pogues noticed JJ steaming and pushed him back, whispering something to him. Pope stepped forward, a similar look of hate in his eyes, but his exterior was cooler.

“No, she’s not. For some reason, she really liked you. She’d been so happy these past couple months and we had no idea why. Now, she’s the saddest we’ve ever seen her and we know exactly why. The only reason I won’t let JJ smash your face in is because we don’t want to upset her even more. Just leave us alone. Leave her alone.”

With that, the boy stepped back into the boat and floated away.

He should have listened to Pope’s words and left you alone. But you had called him and he couldn’t stop himself from pouring his heart out to you. Every word he’d wanted to say spilled from him, just the sound of your voice being the last crack in the dam before it broke. Rafe was selfish and in love with you and he didn’t know what he would do if he lost you completely. So he would wait as long as you needed him to, even if it meant waiting forever.

But as he woke up the morning of Midsummers, the fact that you weren’t beside him tore him to pieces. He didn’t want to go, didn’t want to move from his bed, not when this was supposed to be the day that he showed you just how much he loved you.

He woke up late, only pulling himself out of his bed when Wheezie came in, jumping on him while saying he needed to start getting ready. He showered and slinked into his closet, trying not to look at the dress bag hanging beside his suit as he changed.

He’d spent so much time picking out the perfect dress for you, agonizing over every piece of fabric he came across because it had to be absolutely perfect. He’d even gone as far as to ask Sarah for help, being extra careful not to let her know who he was buying it for, and he would be forever grateful to her for it. She helped him find the perfect dress, it was almost like she knew it was for you. Simple and but beautiful, not too flashy because he knew you hated that. But, as much as he loved the dress, he had been more excited to get it off of you and reveal the matching lingerie set he had bought underneath.

Rafe pulled his suit on and staggered down stairs to find Topper and Kelce waiting for him, passing him a flask as he approached. He saw Sarah, John B, and Kie outside by the pool, the Pogues looking uncomfortable in their formal wear.

“You alright, man?” Kelce asked slapping him on the shoulder. Rafe just nodded, taking another swig from the flask.

“Forget about that Pogue for the night. Have fun, get shitfaced. There will be plenty of girls willing to help you get your mind off things, if you know what I mean,” Topper said with a smirk.

“Y/N.”

“What?”

“Her name is Y/N, Topper. Not ‘that Pogue’ and I don’t want to forget about her,” Rafe snapped. Topper held is hands up in defense, taking the flask from Rafe’s hand and taking a large gulp.

“Whatever, dude,” He said, putting an end to the conversation.

By the time they make it to the club, however, Rafe is ready to drown his sorrows in booze and coke. His mind is adamant on torturing him with images of what could have been. He imagines you by his side as you walk up to the door, arm wrapped around his own. Before you walked in, he would lean down and kiss your cheek, whisper to you about how beautiful you looked. You would blush and tell him to shut up, but he wouldn’t. He would have worshipped you the entire night (and every day after).

As the group is about to enter, Sarah grabs his arm and pulls him back, allowing the others to on ahead.

“Can you just wait here moment?” She asks.

“Why?”

“Just do it! I promise, you won’t regret it.” And with that, Sarah turns and hurries after her friends. Rafe huffs in annoyance, fingers tapping against his leg as the need for some sort of substance grows stronger and stronger. He’s about to turn and go inside and drink himself silly, but is suddenly frozen to the spot.

“Rafe.”

Had he woken up this morning? Was he still laying in his bed wasting his life away? There was no way this was real. He turns and your image only adds to his belief that this was a dream. The orange light of the sunset surrounds you, adding to the already heavenly glow that follows you everywhere. You’re wearing the dress he had bought you and you look a million times more beautiful than in his dreams. A crown of daisies sits atop your head like a halo. Rafe had always called you angel, because that’s what you were. An angel that walked the Earth and graced him with your presence. That nickname had never been more perfect than in this moment, because Rafe was sure he had died and gone to heaven.

“Y/N,” He stumbles towards you, hands reaching out hesitantly. He wanted to hold you, kiss you, touch you in anyway he could. Deprived of your touch for so long, he craved it more than any drug. But he doesn’t want to overstep. You’re here, but he doesn’t know how close you really are, how close you want to be. He let’s you make the first move and he doesn’t have to wait long.

You hand moves to his cheek and cups it, thumb stroking across his cheek bone as you smile up at him. He covers it with his own hand, grasping on and allowing himself to believe that this is real. You stand like that for a moment, off to the side of the walkway to the club. People glance and whisper, wondering who that girl is with Rafe Cameron, but neither of you gave two shits.

Tears begin to well up in Rafe’s eyes as it sets in that you are here and you’re smiling at him and touching him and the dawning realization that he hadn’t lost you overwhelms him. Your other hand cups the other side of his face, pulling him closer to you. He collapses into you, wrapping his arms around your waist and drawing you into his chest. His grip is firm, refusing to let you go ever again. Burying his face in your neck, he speaks a mantra, hoping that it sinks through your skin and lets you feel every ounce of his apology.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” He repeats over and over again until you shush him, running your fingers through your hair and planting a light kiss below his ear.

“I know, baby,” You pull away, holding his face again and looking into his eyes, “I’m still working on forgiving you, but I want to be with you. We have a lot of shit to work through, but we’ll work through it together, okay?”

Rafe takes a deep breath, pulling away slightly to wipe the tears from his cheeks. He nods and you smile at him and kiss his cheek.

“Tonight, though, I just want to be with you. I’ve missed you like crazy. And I believe someone promised me an incredible night. Which means no crying,” You say, wiping away your own tears. Rafe grins at you, extending a hand to aid you. It’s your turn to soak op his touch. You lean into it, missing the comforting warmth of his palm.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Rafe says with a disbelieving laugh.

“Just what I said! I was promised a wonderful night and I am not going to pass it up! I asked Sarah for help and told me about the dress and stole it from you. She helped me do my make up and hair and whatever and now I’m here.”

Rafe grasps your head between his hands, holding you like you were made of glass. The gaze he has on you is filled with so much love and joy and pure adoration that your stomach begins to flip.

“You’re here. And you’re so fucking beautiful.”

A few seconds of gazing at each other, taking in every inch of the other’s face, passes before you speak.

“Rafe?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

The hesitancy from earlier vanishes as Rafe pulls you into a breathtaking kiss. It’s wild and messy loving, just like Rafe. He literally sweeps you off your feet, his arms rapping around your body to lift you, pulling away as he sets you down.

Rafe feels his heart soar. None of his dreams could ever compare to the euphoria he felt, nor any drug. For the first time, he looks into her eyes and speaks the words, “I love you.”

And for the first time, with a smile on your face, you speak the words back, “I love you too.”

taglist: @teenwaywardasgardian @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless @obxmxybxnk @butgilinsky @juliarose21 @bluesiderudy @ilovejjmaybank @diverrdown @diverdcwn @mdlyncline @https-luna @broken-jj @nqbmf @ityagirljay @downbytheouterbanks @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @trinnwazheree

[the-fiction-witch]

What the ever loving hell!

MOVIE MAZE RUNNER DEATH CURE

COUPLE NEWT X READER

RATING ADORABLE AF

I sat with y/n at one time the only girl I knew in the world, she was always sweet as sugar back in the glade and even though the horrors we had all insured she never completely lost that sweetness. She sat on the rocks as we watched the water, doing some repair work for some clothes as she always did. I kept my eyes on the water trying not to think of minho and what those bastards could be doing to him. 

"Fry? You seen tommy about?" Newt asked as he came over his hands in his pockets 

"He was with Brenda last I saw him" I shrugged

"These gone of with Brenda. For a drive" y/n giggled

"Alright, thanks" he waves before heading back to whatever he was doing, I smiled a little see y/n and newts faces flash red when they spoke to each other. Newt and y/n have been smitten on each other since the moment they saw each other, when she came up in the box one chilly rainy morning, and newt climbed in to get her. But as soon as she arrived alby became very harsh in his rule of no dating gladers, so the two of them never really did much about it, even if everyday I would sit listening to his much of a crush she had on him and every evening listening to him go on about his crush on her. Newt did say he was going to tell her the night before we left the maze but he chickened out. Since then they both just sort of lived with it even if they both clearly liked each other very much. 

"Talk to him" I told her 

"I do talk to him" she says 

"Y/n, properly talk to him. Why don't you tell him? There are no rules now, no wicked around."

"I can't"

"Why not?"

".... He doesn't like me"

"Y/n. Trust me newt likes you I've been telling you this for the last two years that he likes you. Go on give it a shot" I told her 

"Your right fry" she giggled putting her work away "I'm gonna do it! I'm gonna walk right up to that blonde boy and I'll… uhhh I have no idea what I'll do."

"Tell him, tell him everything you've told me" 

"Okay, see you later" she giggled giving me a hug before she ran off to find newt. 

I laughed watching the water, he'd probably have a heart attack knowing she likes him back, and she'll go all giggly, or he'll pick her up and cuddle her and give her a thousand little kisses, or get in one knee and propose on the spot, or maybe run off to his hammock to make up for lost time. I thought I'd leave them too it no matter what happens.

I finished up dinner and was about to go see Thomas to see what him a Brenda got up to today, but I should really check up on y/n and newt, now where would they be? Maybe in newts hammock cuddling and kissing or maybe y/n's tent talking about all the things they told me when they where apart. But as I looked around I saw newt. 

So I went over, "hello lover boy" I laughed

"What?" He asked sounding a lost as he turned to see me "what are you bloody on about fry?"

"Where Is she?" I laughed

"Where's who?" 

"Y/n"

"Oh." He said the colour draining from his face "how should I know?" He said avoiding my question and my eyes 

"Ooohh? Relax I won't tell anyone you who's secrets safe with me" I laughed

"No fry" he snapped 

"Newt… what happened?" I asked a little worried forcing him to look at me, he was pale, his cheeks had tear stains, he looked like he was fighting back tears as he stood there 

"Nothing. I just… I don't wanna talk about y/n. Okay" he says pushing me away and matching off to his hammock 

I went as quickly as I could across camp to y/n's tent the moment I was outside I could hear crying, I went in and saw her on her bed in tears, 

"Y/n? What happened?" I asked her sitting beside her pulling her into a hug 

"Newt… newt said, he has never liked me, that he'd never be with someone like...like me," she cried I held her close as she cried doing my best to make her feel better, I was so confused what on earth was going on! Once I did my best to comfort her I got up and marched with purpose across camp to the little meeting room, empty but newt sat looking over things I slammed the door going over to him and slappihis stupid blonde head so hard he fell of his hair 

"OWW! what the bloody hell fry!" He complained

"What the ever loving hell!" I yelled 

"What?" 

"What the hell did you do to her!"

"Look fry it's complicated…"

"No, newt straight fucking answers what did you do to her!"

"Nothing…"

"Nothing! Then why is she in tears you british idiot!" 

"Look I can explain"

"Explain! You broke her fucking heart! Her sweet sugary little heart! And you've smashed it! All those nights you kept me up passing around telling me how much you liked her, how you'd sell your soul for her, give anything to be with her, and you go ahead and break her heart!"

"You think I don't know what I've done!" He yelled tears slipping down his cheeks "you think I wanted to. You think I'm happy she's crying because of me. You think i can bare to watch that girl cry"

"Then why'd you do it"

".... I had to"

"What the hell is going on with you newt?"

"Its complained fry."

"Newt. Everything is fucking complicated. Just tell me" I said sitting down and offering him the other chair, he took it wiping his tears and sniffling "straight answers okay?"

"Okay"

"Did you really like y/n?"

"Of course I did"

"Do you still?"

"Of course I do… fry. I love her."

"Then why did you break her sugary little heart?"

"Because I love her. Because I love that girl more then anything, and I can't bare to watch her suffer for anything."

"You can't bare to watch her suffer? She's in tears newt!"

"I know. But I had to."

"Why did you do it?" I asked him "If you love her, then why did you break her heart?"

"Fry. What I tell you… can't leave this room?"

"When has anything you've ever told me. You know I can keep your secrets"

He nodded and pulled up his sleave showing the crawling black vains climbing up his arm I was in shock, frozen unsure how to react. "Turns out. Not all of us where immune. Some of us where just to tell the difference, I'm infected fry. Badly. From my estimates I've got about nine months before I loose everything , before I turn and become one of those nrewing, biting, screaming shells of people." He explained "less before I start to lose my mind" he explained "I'm already getting wild mood swings" he says 

"So you… you broke her heart-"

"So she doesn't have to watch me turn. So she'll forget me. So it won't shatter her when I turn. So she doesn't have to suffer through this with me. I broke her heart… so she can move on, a beautiful girl like that deserves to be happy, to have someone who loves her, and will be able to be with her, and raise a family with her. And… and I can give her that. Even if I want to… she deserves much more than I can give her. So… I'll let her go. So she can move on, and have a happy life without me" he explained

"Newt… we, we could cure you."

"There is no good damn cure fry. Too late anyway, even If there was a cure I've hurt the only girl I care about too much to want to be alive. I wouldn't want to still be around having hurt her this way" he says 

"Newt… did. Do you mean that?" I heard and we saw that the door was y/n. 

"Y/n!.... I uhh I umm" he stuttered

"Please newt, did you mean all that?"

"Every word. Y/n… love I've adored you since the moment I saw you, dreamed of you, admired you from a afar to stave off albys rage, I passed for hours thinking about you, I was worried sick when they took you away from us, I didn't eat didn't sleep until we found you again. And… if I could, I would spoil you, and make you smile every single day, i'd do anything you asked of me for the rest of our lives, make you my wife, give you a house, children all the things you've ever wanted. But… but I can't. I'm dying y/n. I can't bare to put you through it, for you to care about me while I turn, to abandon you, you deserve better then that… better, then me" he explained taking her hand 

"Newt. I don't want any of that, I just want to be able to spend time with you, to hold you and kiss you like I've always dreamt of. I don't care if we have an hour, a week, a year or the rest of time so long as I get to spend it with you"

"It's not fair of you to love me, when I'm destined to go insane, to infect you too, to break your heart and abandon you"

"Let me be the one to decide that. Not you." She says 

"I can't ask you to be with me, when I know I'll have to leave you" 

"We'll figure it out, and I'd you do have to go. Then… I'll see you again, eventually." She giggled

"Are you sure? You could ever love a crank like me?"

"I already do" she smiled hugging him tightly 

"I'll leave you two alone" I laughed heading out, and as I did I spotted Thomas across the way so I headed over "hey Thomas? You know how Brenda is like… basically fine now?"

"Yeah?" He shrugs 

"What happened in that tent?" 

"Wh… what tent" he said sheepishly 

"The one at right arms first camp you idiot"

"Oohh. I thought. Nevermind, yeah she took some blood mixed some blue goo and infected her with it now she's fine"

"Could you if we got Vince to help do that again?"

"I don't see why not? Why?'

"Because, newt's infected and him and y/n finally figured out they love each other" 

"Took long enough, yeah sure let's go get him" he shrugs getting up so I lead him back to the meeting room where I left them but they where stood cuddled up together kissing and slightly crying "should we shop them?"

"I'd give them another five minutes" I sighed "come on let's go find vince maybe by then they can bare to part each other for five minutes" I laughed

[artificialqueens]

Me and You Together, 4/10 (Taywhora) - Ortega

fic summary: The cardinal rule of having flatmates is that you Do Not Catch Feelings For Your Flatmates, because everything inevitably goes to shit and gets made horrifically awkward. A’whora and Tayce both know this, but being in first year of uni and making good decisions have never really gone hand in hand.

a/n: fam this response is crazy it really is…thank u all so much for the love, kudos and comments, i’m so sorry if i’ve not managed to reply to urs yet but know that i’ve read them all and cherish every one and i will get round to replying and yelling some love and thanks at u soon!!! pls enjoy this chapter in which A'whora does not possess the flat’s shared brain cell at any point. that being said, i wish all the readers of this fic a very pleasant italicised ‘oh’ xo

last chapter: January-Tayce and A’whora still had unfinished business from a night out and a hungover morning in December.

this chapter: October- The gang make plans for their first year together, Tia gives everyone plans for the evening, and A'whora has a realisation that will change the dynamic of her friendship with Tayce forever.

***

“Bimini, what is it you’re actually doing?”

A’whora’s intrigued by the way her flatmate’s sitting on the sofa: legs crossed, notepad in one hand and a cigarette in the other, and looking deep in thought. They’ve not long since stretched over the smoke detector with a sock, having long since established nobody in the flat minds them smoking indoors as long as the windows are open. Lawrence is beside them on the other end of the sofa having been to all the lectures that’re required of her already today and has got a bright pink, blue and purple-flecked ball of yarn hanging from two knitting needles, with which she seems to be knitting some sort of cosy accessory. It’s a wholesome picture that’s playing out in front of A’whora, one that’s miles away from the raucous, drunk nights they’ve all shared in the first month of uni so far.

“Okay, here’s what it is,” Bimini starts, clicking their long nails together. “I am making us a freshers bucket list, and I want your input.”

“Ooh!” Lawrence perks up beside them, and A’whora, interest piqued, picks up the bowl of pasta, butter and cheese she’s spent all of five minutes making and crosses the room to sit beside her flatmates.

She knows it’s only been a month so far, but she really loves everyone she’s living with. For a start, there are four of them that take classes at the art college (the ‘art hoes’, as Tayce calls them), so they all get to walk to lectures together and hang about between classes and workshops with each other depending on how their days are going. Bimini is almost always in the flat, with not a lot of contact hours making up their journalism degree, so they’re a comforting presence for A’whora to come home to at whatever hour of the day, always asking how she is and always offering to make her coffee. Tia is sweet and funny (if ever-so-slightly grating to her at first) and they’ve bonded over being the only two flatmates seemingly able to keep the place clean and tidy. Lawrence is endearing and big-hearted, if A’whora spends half her life hoping that her next prank isn’t involving her in some way (Ellie is usually the butt of them). Ellie herself is one of A’whora’s closest flatmates; they’ll often stay up half the night finishing prototypes or assignments together, all while watching a film which they have spookily similar taste in- they’ve agreed on 101 and 102 Dalmatians, Hocus Pocus, and The Wizard of Oz so far.

And then there’s Tayce, who A’whora thinks is both the absolute carbon copy of herself and yet also so different, the yin to her yang. Tayce has been her closest friend in the flat since day one when she booted the door to her room down and dragged her out of her emotional stupor, and that’s really what’s set the tone for the rest of their friendship; Tayce, upbeat and motivating, constantly and infectiously helping A’whora feel the same way even when she doesn’t want to go out, or doesn’t feel like dragging herself out of her room for a chill flat night with the others, or even when she just feels like a heap of shit. She’s such a fun and positive person to be around, relentlessly optimistic and goofy, and she brings out that side of A’whora too. As opposed to during sixth form and high school, where she’d put up a front to make sure nobody fucked with her, A’whora finds that at uni she can be the person she truly is and let her guard down a little.

This includes being open about her sexuality for the first time ever. She’s out to her family (for the better or worse), but nobody else back home knows (not even her friends) and she wants to keep it that way for now. But at uni things are different- nobody knows her here, nobody has these preconceived ideas of who she is and who she has to be, so she’d taken the plunge and been open about everything. None of the others had cared of course, in fact they’d all been too excited about the fact there’s not a single straight person in their flat comprised of four lesbians (Tayce, Lawrence, Tia and A’whora), one bi (Ellie) and one pan (Bimini).

“What’ve you got so far?” A’whora asks Bimini, sitting down on the sofa opposite her two flatmates.

Bimini reads off their notepad. “Casino night, bottomless brunch…get the train down to Newcastle, have a big night out, stay out all night an’ get the first train home-”

“Christ, that’ll be a challenge for me, you know I get sleepy around midnight,” Lawrence chuckles.

Bimini shrugs. “We’ll just get you an IV drip of Ellie’s Monster, you’ll be alright.”

“What else’ve you got?”

“That’s it so far.”

A’whora spears a pasta spiral, tilts her head in thought as she eats it. “Get drunk in a lecture.”

“Aw, good one!” Lawrence cries enthusiastically. Bimini, for their part, frowns with disapproval.

“Wait, no! Not a good one. Not a good one at all. It’s alright for you art school bitches, you’ve got some lectures together and you can coordinate, where does that leave me n’ Tia?”

“I guess that leaves you…downing a bottle of five pound chardonnay on the back bench of a lecture hall like a tramp with a drinking problem,” Lawrence shrugs, A’whora yelping out a laugh as Bimini shoves Lawrence with their foot.

Just then, there’s movement in the hall and as A’whora turns around she’s greeted by the sight of a tired-looking Tayce and Ellie walking into the kitchen. They shrug off their coats and take off their shoes and dump their bags on the kitchen table with a huff before they walk over to the others. Tayce spreads herself out over the sofa that A’whora’s sitting on, thudding her feet onto her lap without asking permission, to which A’whora instantly pushes them off her and gets a glare and a smirk in return.

“Lawrie, are you knitting?” Ellie laughs, sitting on the arm of the sofa beside her.

“Yeah? And?”

Ellie snorts in amusement. “Just didn’t realise we were living with a wee granny.”

“Well actually, bawbag! I was in the middle of making you a scarf because I can’t stand to listen to you talking shite about how you’re cold every time we leave the flat, but I can leave it if you want,” Lawrence explains. A’whora thinks it’s funny how Ellie backtracks immediately; she can’t tell if she’s blushing or just out of breath from scaling their block’s stairs. Bimini gains control of the conversation, tilting their head in intrigue.

“How were your lectures, huns?”

“Shit, thanks for asking,” Tayce groans, thudding her head down dramatically against the sofa cushions. “I don’t know, I just can’t concentrate when I’m getting talked at for an hour at a time. I need to be doing stuff, you know?”

“Feel that,” Ellie joins in, deflated. A’whora can sympathise- she loves the practical elements of her course, but not so much the lectures. She’s glad she shares a lot of them with Ellie, and the two of them can dick about and text each other and doodle designs in their notebooks while keeping one ear on whoever’s speaking.

“Well if you want to be doing something, you can help us with this,” Bimini suggests, explaining the bucket list they’ve been making.

The girls get settled and the ideas start to flow, Lawrence putting her speakers on for background noise as they all come up with new and increasingly more chaotic exploits. Ellie suggests trying every cocktail in Levels which gets scribbled down into Bimini’s notepad, and Tayce suggests going to Levels sober, which doesn’t get afforded the same appreciation. A’whora comes up with crashing the catered halls for breakfast one day, which they all agree is a good idea but the chances of it actually happening are low considering the earliest riser in the flat is Tayce and even she doesn’t waken up til half nine on a weekend.

“What’re some clubs we’ve not been to yet?” Bimini asks, shrugging. “Could put those down, try an’ visit every one in the city?”

Lawrence snorts derisively. “You go to Underground if you want your phone stolen, Velvet if you want to be bullied by fifteen year olds in the toilets, and Crystal if you want to subject yourself to painful misogyny and probably some light sexual assault.”

“So none of those, then,” Bimini murmurs.

“Those are all really het as well, though,” Ellie wrinkles her nose up in distaste. Then her face lights up as she gets an idea. “Oh! Put down Pride in July.”

“Nice one,” Bimini nods as they scribble down Ellie’s suggestion, the others making little hums of approval.

The conversation goes on for quite some time. Halfway through it Tayce seems to decide she’s bored of lying down and instead moves to sit on the floor between A’whora’s legs, asking her to play with her hair. They’ll do this sometimes- it’s a routine they fall into, A’whora being able to style Tayce’s endlessly long, straight hair and Tayce finding the whole thing therapeutic. They have a lot of little routines like this: they’ll sit close together on the sofa during a flat movie night and take turns leaning on each others’ shoulders, spontaneously give each other hugs at random points throughout the day, trace patterns into each others’ palms when the other seems stressed.

It’s nice. A’whora’s never really had a friendship like this, soft and caring and kind. In school her group was the kind that made catty jokes about each other then buffered them with a “love you!” afterwards and took kissy-face group selfies only to bitch about each other on a private group chat mere hours later. If it was a wolfpack then it was rabid and cannibalistic, and it had seemed like a full-time job ensuring she was never the runt of it. What she’s got with all her flatmates now- especially Tayce- makes her feel like she can finally breathe.

“What about the Centurion Challenge?” Lawrence suggests with a small gasp, breaking A’whora’s reverie as she expertly twirls Tayce’s hair into a loose and chunky French plait.

“Jesus Christ, Lawrence,” Ellie mutters in amusement.

“What’s the Centurion Challenge?” Bimini asks, pulling a face.

Lawrence gives a blythe shrug as she elaborates. “A hundred shots in a hundred minutes.”

A’whora ruins Tayce’s braid in shock, her hair untwisting itself from the braid as if it’s outraged too. The cry she gives joins in harmony with that of Tayce’s and Bimini’s. “A hundred shots? You’d fucking die!”

“Not of vodka! Obviously not of vodka! I know we all have one communal brain cell between us but Christ, can one of yous not use it?!” Lawrence protests. “It’s a hundred shots of beer. Don’t shit yourselves.”

“Aw, well that’s alright then,” Bimini pipes up sarcastically. “What’s actually wrong with Scottish people? Is your breastmilk spiked with whiskey? What d’you get instead of Cow and Gate formula, just cocaine?"

“Actually, a hundred shots of beer sounds more doable to me,” Tayce shrugs, and A’whora can feel her relax against her lap.

“I’d need to change it, I can’t stand beer,” A’whora considers. Ellie cocks her head in consideration.

“Well what alcohol do you like?”

“Fucking none of it,” A’whora laughs. “Cocktails. Vodka cokes. Anything where there’s juice to cover it up.”

Tayce twists her head to look up at her, a little twinkle of mischief in her eye. “I think the challenge ceases to be a challenge when it’s reduced to one hundred watered down shots of Woo Woo, Rory.”

As the others blurt out a laugh A’whora glares down at Tayce, but she can’t help but break out into a giggle too when Tayce grabs her knee and gives it a playful wobble, letting her know she was only joking without even having to say a thing.

A’whora’s not sure what time it is when she hears the front door swing shut and Tia emerges from the hallway, her long hair all messed up from the seemingly ever-present wind outside and almost obscuring the bright smile plastered on her face. “Hey, huns!”

“Oi oi,” Tayce greets her from her position on the floor. “What’s got you so smiley?”

“Nooothing,” Tia smirks, dragging the word out playfully. “Just got an invite to the night out of a very cute girl in my MT society…and she said you guys can all come too. Pres at her flat and then out to The Avenue. Evening plans sorted?”

“Oh, love that!” Bimini gives an enthusiastic clap. “Go on then, who’s the girl? Whose night are we crashing?”

“Her name’s Veronica,” Tia smiles bashfully. “She’s so lovely. Honestly, she wouldn’t mind you coming! She’s got one of the big flats over at Gourock Court so it’s not like it’ll be packed.”

“You don’t exactly want to go to a party that’s not going to be packed,” Ellie screws up her nose. She looks unimpressed and her tone is flat. “And even if it is, I don’t know if I’m in the mood for a flat party with a ton of new people, Tia.”

A’whora’s face drops and she locks eyes with Lawrence simultaneously, who’s got an equally incredulous look on her face. “Els, are you unwell? You never turn down a night out.”

Ellie shrugs quietly, not giving much away on her face. Tia, obviously keen to move to the girl she’s crushing on, carries on persuading her. “C’mon, Eleanor, don’t be such a fucking…square! It’s the musical theatre society, we’re just a walking Pride festival who all happen to be able to hold a tune. There’s loads of fit lesbians?”

“Well if I wasn’t convinced before, I sure am now,” Tayce purrs, a little smile appearing on her lips and a cheeky twinkle in her eyes. A’whora feels her laugh come out weakly. She doesn’t know why, but an odd, uncomfortable feeling lodges itself in her gut. She can’t quite put her finger on what exactly it is or why it’s put itself there.

“And there’s gonna be so many musicals on the playlist!” Tia continues to insist, despite being met with Ellie’s sour face. “I know you’ll love it! They’d probably even play stuff from Shrek if you got them drunk enough.”

A’whora can’t help but scrunch up her nose in distaste. “Hey, I’m only coming if they play fucking…normal people music as well. I’m not gonna be sat in a room with twenty white kids trying to rap to Hamilton or whatever the fuck it is.”

Tia rolls her eyes, plants her hands on her hips in exasperation. “Calm down, A’whora, you’ll still get all the top 40 dance-pop shit you love so much.”

“To be honest, it sounds class. And The Avenue’s always good,” Bimini cuts in calmly. A’whora does have to agree with that. They’ve not been there in a while- the bar across the road from the city’s most popular LGBT club- and its selection of early 00s pop princess tracks combined with its deal of two vodka mixers and a shot for a fiver makes it a guaranteed good night out.

“Well it seems like we’re all down, even if this stroppy cow isn’t,” Tia smiles happily, sticking her tongue out at Ellie for good measure. Ellie finally heaves a world-weary sigh, rolling her eyes dramatically as she relents.

“Ugh, fine! Fine, but this Verruca or whatever the hell she’s called better be the hottest bitch on the planet for you to drag us all out with your MT weirdos, Tia Maria,” she grumps. Tia ignores her bad mood and lets out a cheer which the others join in with, and A’whora resolves to interrogate Ellie about her Bitter Betty attitude later on. Preferably when they’re both drunk. That always makes things easier.

In the melee of excitement, Tayce twists round from her position on the carpet, folds her arms and rests them on top of A’whora’s thighs. “Right. You need to come help me choose an outfit if we’re going out. I need to look fit.”

A’whora smiles with pride. “Ooh, personal stylist duties? I’m honoured.”

“Well I’m hardly gonna ask Tia, am I?” Tayce giggles quietly, and A’whora joins in like it’s a little secret they’re sharing. “Or Ellie. She’d just send me out in one of her bodysuit/skirt combos. I swear to God that girl is like Marge bloody Simpson. Open up her wardrobe and she’ll have twenty sets of the same outfit. Serial killer behaviour, that.”

At this point A’whora is laughing so much that it draws the attention of the others, who eye them with suspicious stares. “What the hell’s so funny?”

A’whora gives Tayce a mischievous look. “Tayce just called Ellie a serial killer.”

Tayce yelps in outrage at having been called out, and as Ellie narrows her eyes Tayce leaps up from the floor and tugs A’whora off of the sofa with her. “That’s taking it out of context, you absolute hound! Come on, help me pick something.”

Tayce’s fingers stay curled around A’whora’s hand all the way down the corridor and into her bedroom. It’s a feeling that A’whora likes because it makes her feel close to her friend, and Tayce taking her hand is like an affirmation and a reassurance all in one; that she likes her, that their friendship has reached the level where hand-holding has become acceptable, that A’whora is worthy of being liked, of being someone’s friend- their real, proper friend. The validation sets her heart off like a flare. It’s nice to feel wanted.

A’whora perches on the edge of Tayce’s bed as she scrapes the coat hangers in her wardrobe and throws outfits onto the bed like a tornado, each more gorgeous than the last and all ones Tayce would look stunning in. That’s something that always strikes A’whora about Tayce; just how beautiful she is, how absolutely blessed with the God-given good genes. The way she looks serene and ethereal without makeup, walking to lectures in the morning with the sun hitting her face and giving her skin a glow. The way she paints for a night out and knows how to accentuate everything about her face that’s already perfect, a feat that would seem like an exaggeration if A’whora hadn’t seen it for herself to confirm it’s true. She frequently finds herself having to hold back from giving compliments to Tayce because if she started she’d never stop.

“Okay, first thoughts are…” Tayce announces unnecessarily loudly, and A’whora laughs at the way she’s talking as if she’s a stylist on a morning TV show. “…I’m thinking something black.”

“Of course you are,” A’whora interrupts with a laugh. “Tayce wearing black. How predictable.”

Tayce gives her a shove on the shoulder that’s too hard and makes her fall back against the mattress. “Shut up! I’ll wear something other than black when Lawrence wears something other than purple, how’s about that?”

The pair of them giggle at the joke as Tayce rifles through the clothes she’s shortlisted, holding up a black leather jacket and a black bralet with an intricate lace hem. The combination makes A’whora’s eyes fly wide open in appreciation.

“This?” Tayce raises an eyebrow at her inquisitively. The fact she’s obviously seen her reaction makes A’whora feel a little self-conscious and she doesn’t particularly know why. “Because I’m wanting to wear either my wet-look leggings or my black vinyl skirt with the zip up the front, and I don’t know if that’s too much leather effect stuff?”

“It’s too much,” A’whora nods, physically unable to help her honesty. “Also I think you should wear the skirt because you’ve got good legs and you should get them out any chance you get. But also the bralet won’t go with it because it’ll make your proportions all wrong.”

Tayce smiles appreciatively as she throws the bralet back into her wardrobe as if A’whora’s given her a command and not a suggestion. “See, this is another reason why you’re the queen of outfit advice. Bimini wouldn’t give me this level of honesty, they’re too nice.”

A’whora feels a warmth spread in her chest at the compliment, but she doesn’t show it. Instead she snorts, nods in agreement. “Yeah, because you could come out dressed in a pair of child’s pyjamas and they’d still say they love it. They’d say it’s very Y2K or something.”

Tayce lets out a cackle before holding up the skirt and leather jacket, humming in thought. “Okay, so you’re saying ditch the jacket but keep the skirt.”

“Yes.”

“And ditch the bralet.”

“Yes.”

“So you want me to go out in a skirt and a pair of heels and nothing else,” Tayce raises an eyebrow at her, and as A’whora bursts out laughing and protests she has to fight off a blush at the thought of her best friend topless in heels. Topless in heels and a vinyl skirt. Topless in heels and a vinyl skirt with a zip that could just be pulled down to leave her in-

The heat floods A’whora’s face like she’s been smacked and she shifts on the bed in an attempt at dissipating the feelings that’ve hit her like a tsunami. Inappropriate. Weird. Way too weird. Don’t do that again.

“What about the bright blue fur coat you’ve got? Because you could have an all black outfit with that as a bit of colour,” she suggests, shrugging lightly in an attempt to pretend that she hadn’t just been thinking about Tayce in the way she had.

Tayce’s face lights up and she points at A’whora with one hand and reaches into her wardrobe with the other. “Love that. Okay, top?”

“Are you addressing me? I’ve never topped for anyone,” A’whora attempts a joke. If Tayce can make jokes like that to her then she can do it right back.  

“That’s very clear, baby,” Tayce shoots in response without missing a beat. Before A’whora realises it, she’s flexing her toes. What the fuck is happening to her? She needs to steer this conversation back on track.

She thinks for a second. “You’re a size eight, right?”

“In theory. The amount of pot noodles I’ve been chucking down my neck since I moved in is very quickly rendering that a distant memory, I’ll tell ya,” Tayce says, as she leans against the door of her wardrobe and folds her arms.

“I’ve got a black lace bodysuit that would go with that. It’s a ten so it’ll fit. D’you want to try it?”

“Well despite the fact a skirt and a bodysuit was the very thing I just roasted Ellie for always wearing…that sounds lush. Thanks, Rory Roo,” Tayce agrees, the nickname-of-a-nickname setting off the click of a small pilot light in A’whora’s heart. She’s about to ask if she wants to come try it on just now when she hears both their names being yelled from the kitchen.

The pair of them head back through to find that Tia has changed the playlist on the speakers from the chilled-out, calm acoustic one that had been playing to her early 00’s tunes. Combined with Bimini half-singing, half-yelling along to Murder on the Dancefloor and the blast of the extractor fan as Ellie stirs something in a big metal pot at the hob, it’s a far cry from the calm, cosy scene that A’whora had witnessed in the kitchen some hours prior.

Ellie had been the one who had shouted on them, and she whips around from the cooker when she realises that Tayce and A’whora have come through. “I’m making dinner for me, Bims and Tia, you wanting some?”

“Depends what it is. Come on, talk it up, Ellie. Give us some options,” Tayce shrugs with feigned disinterest, and A’whora can’t help the bubble of laughter that bursts from her mouth as Ellie narrows her eyes at her.

“It’s spaghetti and meatballs, and your alternatives are fuck off or die,” she shoots back savagely, and the whoop of shock and laughter that goes up from the others soars above the music and the fan. Tayce laughs good-naturedly in spite of the barb.

“I’m joking, ‘course I’ll take some.”

A’whora wrinkles her nose. “You’re making meatballs for a meal that Bimini is gonna eat?”

“They’re not real ones, dipshit,” Bimini pipes up from over on the sofa. “It’s that Birdseye Green Cuisine shit, innit.”

“Birdseye Green Cuisine shit,” A’whora repeats disdainfully. “If you ever go on The Apprentice, Bim, Alan Sugar’s gonna shit himself at your selling abilities.”

Tayce snorts, tries and fails to cover it up. When her eyes rest on A’whora they share a little smile, and A’whora’s grows bigger when she thinks about the way they’re both so in sync all the time.

“They’re nice, I promise! Veronica’s talked them up loads, she told me she’s been trying to eat more veggie things,” Tia insists, with an entirely unnecessary namedrop of her crush. A’whora relents and says she’ll have a small bowl before jumping out of her skin as Ellie bangs the spoon against the pot somewhat aggressively with a face like thunder.

Before A’whora can ask Ellie about her bad mood, Tia speaks again as she scrolls her phone to change the song. “Honestly, Ellie, you’re a star for doing dinner. Thanks so much.”

“Aw, don’t be silly, doll! It’s nothing!” Ellie turns around from the hob and bats the compliment away, shooting Tia a dazzling smile in return. It’s funny the way her demeanour seems to instantly do a complete 180 at the praise, and it makes A’whora wonder what’s changed.

She’s distracted, though, by the way Lawrence enters in her dressing gown with her hair up in a towel, obviously having come straight from the shower. She pouts and whines in a very un-Lawrence way as she lingers at the doorframe between the hall and the kitchen.

“Guysss, does anyone have an ID they can give me for tonight?”

“What about your friend? Who was it…Rosé?” A’whora shrugs, and Lawrence fixes her with a wide-eyed stare of incredulity.

“Oh my God, A’whora! I never thought about asking the girl I’ve been borrowing ID from since the start of uni! Thanks for that!” she says sarcastically, Bimini giving a yelp of laughter and A’whora leaning off the countertops and swiping at Lawrence in retort. “She’s using it. She asked her girlfriend and her flatmates for me but they’ve all got plans. I felt like a fuckin’ daytime TV charity advert.”

“For just one pound a week, you could help an underaged child get blackout drunk on triple trebles,” A’whora puts on a dramatic, concerned voice, proud of the way it makes Tayce blurt out a laugh.

“It’s such fucking bullshit,” Lawrence huffs, leaning against the fridge and folding her arms. “I mean my eighteenth’s in five days and I’ve been drinking in parks since I was fourteen, how can I not just be let into a fuckin’ bar?”

“Grow up and order a fake one,” Ellie shakes her head with incredulity, smashing the wooden spoon against the pot again with a bang-bang-bang to get the excess pasta sauce off.

“Just you pipe down, hen, you shouldn’t even be at uni. In fact, have you even completed primary yet?”

The two girls stick their tongues out at each other, a mirror-image of petty bickering that makes A’whora laugh. Luckily Bimini steps in, shrugging as they open their purse.

“Here, babe. I’ve still got my course friend’s provisional from when she dropped it on Gordon Street when she was off her face. I ain’t given her it back yet an’ I’m sure she wouldn’t care if you borrowed it. She’s chill.”

Lawrence accepts enthusiastically, bouncing over to Bimini and thanking them gratefully. A’whora watches her face drop, though, when she takes a look at the photo.

“There’s no way this’ll work.”

Bimini tuts and shakes their head, the picture of casual composure. “It’s fine, babes, they never look properly anyway.”

Lawrence drops the hand that’s holding the license to her side and fixes her friend with an astounded glare. “Bimini. This girl is black.”

As the others screech with outrage and mirth, Bimini waves Lawrence’s concerns away blithely. “It’ll be dark! It’s fine! Asttina an’ you have both got similar…well…you’re both girls, an’ you’re about the same height. Give or take a few inches.”    

“Christ. I’m going to have to just forward roll past the bouncers, aren’t I? Then draw a fuckin’ club stamp on my arm in Sharpie.”

“Oh my God, stop moaning!” Ellie sighs from her position at the hob, bangs the spoon again for emphasis. “Look, I’ll ask Pippa from flat 2, alright? You both have brown hair, so…that’ll probably be enough.”

A’whora thinks it’s interesting the way Lawrence doesn’t shoot something back in her foghorn of a voice like she normally does. Instead she smiles warmly, dashes over to the kitchen where she hugs Ellie from behind, squeezing her tightly at the stomach and making her flinch in surprise.

“Thanks, Ellie-Bellie,” she sing-songs, swaying her aggressively from side to side until Ellie bats her away, flicking the spoon in a way that threatens to shower them both in marinara sauce.

“Right, that’s plenty. Don’t even do things I enjoy for that long.”

“When’s this gonna be ready, Els?” Bimini shouts through as Lawrence lets go. “ ‘Ave I got time to do my makeup before it?”

Ellie shrugs. “If you can do your makeup in ten minutes.”

A’whora kicks her leg out in Tayce’s direction and jerks her head towards the hall. “Do you want to try on that bodysuit before tea?”

Tayce nods enthusiastically in agreement, so they go back along the corridor with a shout to the others telling them they won���t be long. A’whora holds the door of her room open for Tayce and her heart sinks in embarrassment when she realises she forgot to make her bed this morning.

“Sorry about the mess,” she apologies, to which Tayce gives a cry of a laugh in response.

“A’whora, have you seen my room? You’re fine, kid, don’t worry.”

A’whora thinks that’s true- Tayce’s room is a state, but somehow it seems to suit her. Tayce’s room with the crowded bulletin board, desk covered in sweet wrappers and sketches, floor carpeted with clothes that need washed and outfits that didn’t make the cut. The cracked picture frame on her window-sill of the first selfie the six of them all got together on the first night of freshers and the huge cheese plant that sits next to her bedside table, Tayce’s pride and joy. They’re all little intricate shards that join up to form a perfect picture of her personality, and A’whora thinks it’s sort of perfect.

She looks out the bodysuit from its neatly Marie Kondo-d place in her wardrobe and hands it gently to Tayce. “Try it and see. It’s a small 10 anyway so it’ll probably be fine for you.”

Tayce accepts it gratefully and hooks a finger around both of the straps, letting the rest of the material fall out of its perfectly folded little parcel. She gives a little gasp of appreciation as she looks at it. “Oh yes, baby. I think this’ll do just fine.”

A’whora feels good- proud that she’s managed to find the perfect piece for Tayce’s outfit, to help her look as inevitably gorgeous as she knows she will. The smile on her face falters, though, when Tayce shoots her a wink and leans against the wall with her shoulder. “This is gonna get me someone I can pop off my acrylics for, I can tell. You’ve got the best taste, girl.”

“Are you actually going to try and get with someone tonight?” A’whora injects a laugh into her question that she’s banking on sounding genuine, otherwise it comes across as accusatory and that’s not what she means it to be. Or is it? She doesn’t know. “You know how messy nights at The Avenue always get. Last time we were there Lawrence got so drunk she told us she couldn’t see, remember?”

Tayce laughs her off with a shrug. “Well then I’ll just have to be careful with my drinks, won’t I?”

A’whora gives a false laugh, tries so hard to get it to meet her eyes. Why is she so pressed about this? She gets with girls on nights out too, she’s brought the occasional one night stand to the flat. Tayce is allowed to do the same.

So why does she feel ever so slightly gutted?

If her smile looks fake (which it is) then Tayce doesn’t notice, and she only shoots her a smile as she opens the bedroom door. “You’re an angel. I’ll pop this on then be back in five.”

A’whora takes the opportunity of Tayce having left to make her bed, and as she does so she feels lots of little thoughts dart around her mind like minnows, none of them staying in the same place for long enough to be able to be deciphered. She manages to catch a few before they flee away and she clings to them, turning them over in her head: why does she feel so bothered about the prospect of Tayce finding a girl at the party, talking to her and making a connection and laughing at her jokes? Why had it felt like a punch to the gut when Tayce was joking about doing so? Why does she have this part of her that feels like an idiot for setting Tayce up to look her best and knowing that it’s for the benefit of somebody else, somebody that doesn’t know her like she does?

And then her bedroom door opens and A’whora turns around and lays eyes on her best friend. Tayce in her high heels and bare legs and the skirt with the zip. Tayce with her baby blue fake fur coat and her straight, dark hair tumbling over its shoulders. Tayce in the bodysuit- A’whora’s bodysuit- with the lace and the mesh that clings to her chest like it was designed just for her. There’s something about the fact that she’s wearing something that belongs to A’whora that makes something inside her chest tingle, the fact it’s a little piece of her in Tayce’s jigsaw puzzle that seems to fit regardless of the difference.

“What d’you think?” Tayce smiles, all too aware of how drop-dead stunning she looks.

And then the realisation hits A’whora like a train.

Oh.

Fuck.

She’s screwed.