#Literally need the lightbulb to go on in their heads when they figure those men arent joking

[xoxo-teddybear]

The Bakugou Kids - Bakugou Katsuki

(Dad)Bakugou x (Mom)f!reader

Warnings: Fluff, Crack, Cursing

Summary: Bakugou and Y/N love their son with their entire beings, but sometimes, parents need a break. Especially when those parents are responsible for creating a literal demon spawn. He is kind, well behaved, and cute of course! But he does have Bakugou blood in him. With Y/N already away on a girls trip, Bakugou has to find out how he’s going to deal with his (now) many, many kids.

A/N: You passed down your duplication quirk down to Katsuo.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” You asked your husband as you stood at the doorway. “Katsumi may be a calm baby but she’s still a baby. And Katsuo’s quirk just kicked in and it is mine. I would know how difficult it can be to manage.”

“Stop worrying, Babe. It’s just a duplication quirk. And he’s only 5, how powerful can it really be?”Katsuki said, wrapping his arms around you. “Just go on your little girl’s trip with Ponytail and Racoon Eyes. I can handle the brat.”

You looked at your husband with a raised brow and smile before rolling your eyes and giving him a kiss. “Alright then. I’ll see you in a few days!”

With that, you walked out of the house and into the cab to meet your friends at the resort. Katsuki chuckled before walking back into the house to find his son napping on the couch. His spiky, blonde locks were all messed up with bed head while his E/C eyes he inherited from you remained shut. Katsuki walked over to his newborn daughter and picked her up while he took a seat next to Katsuo’s sleeping form, rubbing at his soft hair until he woke up.

“Can’t be all that bad, right Katsumi?”

The baby girl merely cooed with sparkling ruby eyes that mimicked her father’s.

—

Wow. Wrong. He was so wrong! It had only been 2 days since your departure but things had already gone so wrong! When you said your quirk was difficult to manage, Katsuki thought it would be difficult for Katsuo to manage. Not him!

Katsuki should’ve known his son would’ve taken the opportunity to act out while his mother was away. He had always been your little angel while Katsuki saw him as his little gremlin. With Y/N gone, Katsuo has been pushing all kinds of limits. Limits that had Katsuki beat.

Katsuo had been fortunate enough to inherit a quirk. And not just any quirk, but your quirk. Duplication. Basically, he can create copies of himself. When you were his age, you could only create 4, max. Katsuo was different though. He had Bakugou blood flowing through him. He was advanced the second he was born. So now, Katsuki was stuck looking after Katsumi, Katsuo, and Katsuo’s 16 other copies.

“Aye! Number 15, you’re gonna break that lamp! 11 and 8! Don’t wrestle in the mud! Go take a bath! NUMBER 3 GET OFF THE KITCHEN ISLAND! KATSUMI!” The adult blond screamed, looking for his infant daughter, eventually finding her sleeping in her little rocker on the living room floor. “Oh right, you don’t talk yet.”

Katsuki sighed as he slumped down next to his daughter, and leaned his back against the couch. He looked around the room and saw the 17 Katsuo’s making a ruckus around the house. All he could do was question how the hell is 3 month old daughter could possibly sleep through all this.

Katsuki almost lost all hope for humanity until a knock was heard on his front door. Knowing exactly who was there, he quickly got up from his place on the floor and ran to the entrance. “You idiots are finally here!”

Katsuki pulled in his 3 friends, the boys of the Bakusquad, and slammed the door shut. The 3 friends all stood in shock at the sight of the house. Not that it was overly messy or anything. It’s just that there were about 16 more figures in the house that aren’t usually there.

“You gotta help me!” Katsuki said, running infront of them, shaking his best friend’s shoulders. “I love my kids! I do! I love Katsuo, I swear! BUT I DIDNT SIGN UP TO BE A FATHER OF 18 FREAKING DEVILS!”

“Okay! Okay, relax man. We’re here.” Kirishima said, patting his friend’s shoulder as he wept. “How the hell are we gonna take care of 17 little Bakugous?”

“Right? We thought 1 Kacchan was a lot. Then you brought another one into the world, who apparently brought some unannounced friends.” Kaminari joked.

“They’re demons!” Katsuki exclaimed. “This has to be some fucking Karma for the shit I did. I knew I should’ve listened to my old hag better. Now shits came back to bite me in the- HEY! PUT YOUR SISTER DOWN! SHE’S NOT A FOOTBALL!”

Katsuos number 7 and 5 placed a sleeping Katsumi back in her rocker with an annoyed pout before running off to play something else.

“Welllll, there’s nothing that 3 cool uncles can’t fix!” Sero enthusiastically said. “Hey kiddos! Who’s ready to have some fun?”

All the mini blondes stopped their movements, some freezing mid-air, and looked to the slim man. They all shouted in joy at the sight of their uncles and ran to pounce on the 3 men, including their father. From the point of view of the boys in the Bakusquad, it looked like a Bakugou stampede.

“Run, run, RUN, RUN, RUUUNN!!!!” Kaminari screamed as the boys all ran for their lives to escape the herd of Katsuos. This was going to be an interesting day.

—

Safe to say after the day had passed, the boys of the Bakusquad were completely exhausted. Sero had half his clothes torn, Kirishima’s hair fell from it’s great spikes and even lost some red hues, Katsuki’s eye bags had never been heavier, and Kaminari was just straight knocked the fuck out. They were all thrown across the couch as Katsumi rested in Katsuki’s arms.

“What do we do?” Kirishima exclaimed.

“I don’t know.” Katsuki said, looking at his scrambling son(s). “There’s just too many.”

“And we’ve already lost a soldier.” Sero said pointing to Kaminari’s sleeping form. Katsuki and Kirishima followed his gaze and bowed their heads in respect towards the defeated Kaminari.

“Well now what? Is Bakugou just supposed to live like this for the next 3 days?” Kirishima asked.

“Hell no. If I do, there’s not gonna be anymore Katsuki. I’ll just be some body without a soul because my damn gremlins sucked it outta’ me.” Katsuki said with his head dropped down.

“Well how do we get them to calm down?” Sero questioned.

“I don’t know. They’re all mini me’s. Nobody could get me to relax.” Katsuki said in defeat, but that’s when Kirishima had a lightbulb go off for him.

“Except for Y/N!” The red head said, popping up from his seat on the couch.

“Uh, if you haven’t noticed Shitty Hair, this all started because she’s away on her trip.” Katsuki said with sarcasm as he looked at his friend as if he was an idiot.

“I know that! But Y/N wasn’t the only one to tame you, Bakugou!” Kirishima said in excitement.

“So then who else?” Katsuki asked.

“You know,” Kirishima smirked. “Denki’s favorite person. Y/N and.........”

It took Katsuki a second before his eyes popped when he finally got it. “No!”

“Yes!” Kirishima said.

“No way! We’re not going to her!” Katsuki complained.

“Who?” Sero asked.

“Nobody!” Katsuki screamed.

“Oh it’s somebody alright! Somebody who was able to tame the beast in Bakugou the second he was born!” Kirishima said.

“Who?” Sero asked. Katsuki finally sighed before he gave in, realizing this was his only hope for sanity. He grabbed his phone and made a quick call before explaining to his dark-haired friend.

“The demon of all demons...”

—

The door opened to reveal a tall standing brunette and an elder feminine blonde.

“...My mother.”

—

The boys of the Bakusquad all sat lined up on the couch as Mitsuki stood at Katsuki’s end and smacked her son’s head.

“You idiots! Y/N leaves for 2 days and all hell breaks lose?!” Mitsuki screamed at the 3 young men.

“You old hag! Quit hitting me! Ima’ grown man for crying out loud!” Katsuki screamed as he rubbed his head. Masaru simply bounced the sleeping Katsumi in his arms as he watched the scene play out.

“Well if you’re such a grown man then why can’t you manage your own kids without your wife’s help?!” Mitsuki argued, leaving Katsuki silent as he grumbled. The eldest blonde sighed before continuing. “Alright listen, I’ll watch these little devils for the next few days until Y/N comes back. I’d love to spend some time with my grandbrats. Why don’t the 3 of you go take a break and-“

“THANKS! Let’s go losers!” Katsuki said dragging his friends to the exit. Mitsuki and Masaru only laughed at their son’s behavior as they began tending to the kids.

The boys of the Bakusquad all quickly walked out of the house and headed for their cars as they all walked together.

“So, where to?” Sero asked.

“We could go head up that new resort in Tokyo!” Kaminari suggested.

“Naahhh. That’s where Y/N’s having her girl’s trip. Wifey would kill me if she saw me there instead of at home with the kids.” Katsuki said with his hands in his pockets. Kirishima raised his brow at this.

“Oh? So then, maybe we should go back and-“

“You know, on second thought,” Katsuki said with wide eyes once Kirishima made the suggestion. He took his hands out of his pockets and placed them behind his friend’s backs to keep them moving. “Maybe she won’t kill me..if I’m lucky..and wish..upon a shooting star....a million times over. Hah.....yeah. TO THE RESORT!”

As they walked, Kaminari attempted to look at the house once more, prompting Katsuki to turn his friend’s head back around. “No, no, no, don’t look back, they can smell fear.”

[h2bakugou]

『 𝗵𝟮𝗯𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗴𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗸 』 ✦  𝗮𝗴𝗲𝗱 𝘂𝗽 𝟭𝟴+ 𝗮𝘂 ; 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗿𝗸𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗮𝘂 ; 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗢𝗥𝗦 𝗗𝗡𝗜

𝐈𝐕. 𝗯𝗮𝗸𝘂𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗮𝗱 ✦ 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀-𝗼𝗻 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴

𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ; between you and izuku’s relationship, sex was always something to touch on later, both literally and figuratively. so when you go to your closest guy friends seeking advice on how to please your boyfriend, they give you much more of hands on lesson than you had expected.

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 ; katsuki bakugou, eijiro kirishima, denki kaminari, hanta sero x reader

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ; 18+, smut, swearing, porn with plot/little plot, cheating, dub-con, virgin!reader, virginity stealing, oral (male and female receiving), overstimulation, orgasm denial, thigh fucking, cum play, spit play, spanking, fingering, bukkake, orgy, split roasting, biting, mentions of porn, partial revenge sex, sub/dom dynamics, praise kink, degradation, masturbation, double penetration, recording

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 ; this came to me on a whim, i really needed to just get this out of my head. i’ve been in a weird headspace and this prompt just kinda came up and stuck with me. apologies for any spelling/writing errors, this piece was not proofread!!

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 ; 6.7k

✦  𝗻𝘀𝗳𝘄 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁 ✦

Wanting to be the perfect girlfriend for your ever so lovely boyfriend was becoming more of a challenge. Izuku was an angel, and heaven-sent. He was as sweet as he could be. And you loved him for all that he did for you.

Helping you study for your college classes, taking you on cute picnic dates to watch the sunset. 

You were lucky to have a guy like him. But having a perfect guy like him meant you could also lose him. And you didn’t want that at all.

The two of you had never dabbled much into sex and all of its activities. There was the time you’d grinded against his lap, or made out while he jerked off under you, but you’d never done anything with him, just like he’d never done anything with you.

You were both nervous, but you wanted your first time together to be something special. Something you could both cherish. You wanted it to be perfect for him. 

Since porn was the last place you wanted to take advice from, you swallowed your nerves and bit the bullet, asking your best group of guy friends if you could hang out at their flat for a bit.

And of course, in the group chat, you were all in together, they welcomed you over with open arms.

You settled on their couch instantly recognizing the neutral grey walls as your second home when you weren’t pacing around your own flat. 

“So what’s up girlie?” Kaminari asks, already laying his head in your lap like usual.

“I have a really big favor to ask you all.” You stare worryingly at the floor, just past Kaminari’s head.

“What is it? You know we’re here to help.” Kirishima chimes in, honestly expecting some bad news.

“Don’t tell me that shithead Deku’s causing problems.” Bakugou grunts from his spot beside you on the couch.

“No, no. It does have to deal with Deku, but er...” You pause, swallowing the lump of nerves in your throat before spitting it out.

“We keep having these sexual moments, and I just wanna please him but I don’t know where to start so I thought I would ask you guys what feels good for men.” You suddenly feel as if the world has caved in, your frame much smaller than anyone else’s in the room.

As if a lightbulb had flicked on simultaneously in the male’s heads, they all gathered around you.

“Well, I know for a start, I like it when they look at me when they blow me. Makes me feel in control.” Kaminari grins.

“Yeah it’s the only time you’re in control.” Sero jokes. Kaminari slaps the ravenette and rolls off of your lap, sitting up beside you.

“So you want to have sex with Izuku finally?” Kirishima asks. You nod sheepishly, still embarrassed to be so open about your sex life, or lack of one, with some of your best friends.

“Have you ever had sex before?” Bakugou asks bluntly. Your silence speaks volumes as the four men around you all seem to get the same idea yet again.

“We can give you some tips!” Kirishima’s words aren’t supposed to have a double meaning, but in a matter of seconds, Bakugou’s standing right in front of you, gazing down at you with lust-filled eyes.

“Take my belt off.” He speaks clearly.

“W-wait you guys are just supposed to teach me-”

“We are. Hands-on teaching seems to show the most progress does it not?” Kaminari butts in, his hands creeping up on your sides, dipping under your arms to undo the buttons on your blouse.

“We’re gonna help you understand what feels good for us! We can teach you better this way, so pay close attention.” Sero stood behind Bakugou, slinging his arm over Bakugou’s shoulder.

“If this is gonna help, I guess it won’t be too bad.” You mumble, your timid hands reaching for Bakugou’s belt.

“Look at me.” Bakugou’s voice ushers for your gaze. Your eyes travel up his clothed chest to his crimson eyes.

“Good girl.” Bakugou grinned, watching as your eyes widened.

“Bet stupid Deku doesn’t praise you.” Bakugou huffs. Your hands eventually undo his belt and now you stare at his abdomen. Bakugou tugs his shirt off over his head, revealing his toned chest. 

You’re in awe.

“Izuku doesn’t look like that.” You think out loud, figuratively drooling over your best friend. Bakugou feels a strong sense of pride as he glances at Kaminari, who’s finally able to tug your shirt off and reveal those pretty tits he’s beat his dick to at night.

Photos of you in swimsuits, or teasing clips you’d posted to your instagram stories late at night in a bra or some sort of revealing top while you hung out with your girlfriends, Denki kept them all in a hidden folder and let out embarrassing moans when his hand jerked his cock at them.

“So pretty.” Kaminari mumbles, biting your shoulder as he unclamps your bra, finally seeing them in person, unobscured.

“Deku’s so fucking lucky.” Kaminari hisses, grabbing them roughly, kneading them in his hands harshly.

You whine, whether in pain or pleasure is unsure, the feeling of Kaminari’s hands kneading your tits like their just dough is making your cunt throb. And it suddenly feels so much hotter in the room when your eyes widen at the size of Kaminari’s bulge as you glance over at him.

“Does he touch you like this?” Kaminari whispers, his fingers twisting your nipples, tugging them between his thumb and forefinger as the rest of his hand continues to cup and massage your breasts.

“N-No. He’s never touched me.” You whine, your head hanging on your shoulders, embarrassed to be so turned on by this. This was wrong-

“Get my cock out. It’s time for you to learn how to suck someone off.” Bakugou places his hand on the back of your head and yanks your hair back, forcing you to look at him.

“Go on, or you won’t like when I do it myself. I’ll use your throat like a fleshlight.” Bakugou’s voice drops, watching as your hands find their way back to his pants.

“How come he gets to get blown first?” Kirishima mumbled to Sero, the pair gradually undoing their own pants, slowly palming over their clothed erections.

“Because I hate Deku the most.” Bakugou grunts.

“Oh fuck.” You curse, staring at Bakugou’s cock in awe. 

“I’ve never seen one in person before...” You babble, completely shocked by the pure length and girth of the cock that’s twitching in front of you. Bright pink cockhead, with a prominent vein on the underside, he’s fucking huge. And for a second you wonder if you can even open your mouth wide enough to take even the head of him in your mouth.

But you get your answer soon enough.

“So innocent.” Sero’s ashamedly turned on by your innocence. The way you stared at Bakugou’s cock like it was the only thing in the room was enough to make him excited. He wanted to steal every moment from you. He wanted to ruin you.

“Open your mouth. Tongue out.” Bakugou instructs. You do as you say and you can see Bakugou visibly tense. His shoulders relax as he grips the base of his cock and slaps the head of it on your tongue.

“Rule number one. No teeth. Ever.” Bakugou makes this rule very evident as he taps his dick against your tongue.

“If it’s too much, tap me three times.” Bakugou says in a slightly gentler tone, almost as if he knew you were going to need to tap out. 

“Well, it’s not gonna suck itself.” Bakugou huffs, smirking down at you. You try to think straight but nothing’s working. You search in the dirtiest parts of your brain, trying to remember all the magazines you’d seen telling you how to suck a guy to make him cum, but as you took Bakugou’s cock into your mouth, just past the tip, your jaw was already starting to ache.

Kaminari’s hands had traveled down to your shorts, teasing your bare skin as he slid his fingers under the waistband of your panties.

“Holy fuck.” Bakugou murmured, glancing back at Kirishima and Sero, who had now whipped their cocks out, stroking them while their pants sat pooled around their ankles.

“Is she good?” Sero asks, glancing over Bakugou to look down at you. You were clearly struggling, your hands resting in your lap awkwardly, not sure of where or what to do with them.

“Here, get on your knees down here.” Bakugou pulls his cock from your past your lips with a small ‘pop’ sound, his strong arms tugging you down off the couch, leaving Kaminari alone up there.

He quickly hops down too, sitting down behind you, taking the chance to play with your tits some more, biting and kissing your neck and shoulder.

Sero and Kirishima stand on opposite sides, now trapping you between all four males, one on each side of you.

You gaze at Sero’s cock. It was long, and lean, a significant curve set his apart from Bakugou’s. It was a bit thinner but still looked like it could do some serious damage.

Kirishima, on the other hand, seemed to outweigh them both. His cock was fat and hung along with the biggest balls you’ve ever seen-note you’ve seen three pairs so far.

It was thick, long, and veiny. And you were scared. If you could barely fit Bakugou’s in your mouth, you knew for a fact his wouldn’t fit at all.

“Such a needy little thing, aren’t ‘cha?” Kirishima teased as your hands daintily reached up to stroke Sero and Kirishima’s cocks. Something you’d seen in a porno once, where a girl was in a position similar to yours.

“Where’d you learn that one?” Kaminari teases, licking your shoulder.

“P-porn.” You stutter out.

“Oh.” Sero laughs.

“What a dirty girl you are.” Kirishima’s hips thrust forward, allowing your hand to complete the first stroke from the tip to the base.

You lean forward and take Bakugou’s cock back into your mouth, staring up at him as he grunts. His hands find their way to your hair, forcing you to take his length.

So much for going in slow and easy.

You’re sure you see the heavens for a moment. Your vision blurs with tears as Bakugou’s cock hits the back of your throat. Your hands stop moving on Sero and Kirishima’s cocks as you take a moment to adjust.

You mewl, your voice reverberating against Bakugou’s cock, the vibrations sending chills down his spine. He takes control, using your mouth as his own personal fucktoy.

And you were completely helpless. Besides the tears on your lashes and the ache in your jaw, your hands returned to jerking off the men beside you, your eyes still set on staring up at Bakugou as he smirked pridefully at you.

And then you felt it. Kaminari’s hands had slid down into your panties, his fingers just barely ghosted over your clit before you forced yourself down to the base of Bakugou’s cock, your hips jerking from the sensation alone.

“Woah there.” Kaminari pulled his hands out, giggling.

“Someone’s never felt that before.” He teases. You tap Bakugou’s leg three times and he pulls out, almost disappointed.

“Are you alright?” 

“Does it feel good to be touched down there?” You ask your hands reaching to remove your shorts.

“I think you’re talking to the wrong crowd for that.” Kirishima jokes. 

“Dumbass. Of course, it feels good. Don’t tell me you’ve never-”

“No! No! I’ve tried I could just never, make myself...” 

“Oh my god.” Kirishima and Sero give each other an almost pitiful stare.

“And Deku’s never pushed sex so I always thought something was wrong with me. What if I can’t cum? How can I please him if I can’t-”

“Hey. Why don’t we help you out? Clearly touching you there evoked some sort of reaction, why don’t you relax and let me see if I can work something out of you.” Kaminari offers, rubbing your sides. You nod shyly. 

Spreading your legs similarly, your movements are slow and timid as if you're scared to make a wrong move. Kaminari glances up to the others as they quickly picked up, Bakugou kneeling down to help remove your shorts and panties, which had a small damp spot, one Bakugou didn’t miss.

“You’re already soaking your panties. You’re enjoying this.” Bakugou retorted, staring in awe of your glistening cunt, one his childhood best friend had claimed before him.

It ate away at Bakugou daily. Seeing the two of you walk to classes together, or whenever you’d post snaps of you laying on his chest after he fell asleep during a movie night.

Or the way he’d call you baby in front of all your friends. It pissed Bakugou off. He was in love with you.

But oh was Bakugou going to take this chance by its reigns. He was going to show you exactly what you were missing being with that stupid nerd.

And even more so. Bakugou was going to take your virginity away from you, and away from the guy who you clearly thought was going to.

“Damn Deku really is lucky.” Sero whispered, his eyes locked tight onto your dripping cunt. It was beautiful. Sero had his fair share of one-night stands, and hookups, but he’d never seen one that looked like yours. God, it was captivating. He wanted to feel your tight, plush walls hugging his cock as he fucked into you from behind.

And then there was Kirishima, who stared in awe as well. His eyes wandered your naked body and wondered if you were truly the same girl going out with Deku. 

Part of you being in a standing relationship was so enticing. Kirishima was nothing short of respectful, but wanting to destroy any sort of expectations you had for your first time with Deku sent his brain and cock into overdrive.

And there you were, legs sprawled out, cunt dripping your essence onto the soft carpeted floors, your back pressed into Denki's chest as his fingers reached down and spread your pussy apart.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you felt like you were going to implode. Your senses were heightened, and the slightest touch between your thighs made you squirm. Denki chuckled as the other males salivated over you, picking their jaws off the floor was the next step.

"Go on, why don't you find her clit." Bakugou crossed his arms over his chest with an evil grin.

"Oh shut the fuck up." Kaminari's fingers moved from the lips of your cunt to the hardened bud, and with one tiny little touch, you let out an embarrassing whine. Denki grinned as he moved his fingers in a slow circular motion over your clit, watching how you quickly clamped your legs together.

"Awe no, let them see just how good I am with my fingers." Kaminari cooed in your ear, using one hand to pry your legs back open, Sero bending down and grabbing the other, forcing them apart. You whined in pleasure as his fingers worked wonders against your clit, your back arching against his chest. 

"Denki!" You cried out, feeling something building up inside of you. Kaminari grinned but Bakugou wasn't having it.

"Oi, enough. I wanna cum down her throat." Bakugou grunted, yanking you up to your feet from your forearm.

"Sit on his face and suck my cock, slut." Bakugou spat, your eyes widening. You nodded, glancing back at Kaminari who was already moving for you to do so. You were nervous, feeling awful for sitting on his face, but you didn't regret a thing when you felt Kaminari's tongue swipe through your folds. 

The cold steel of his tongue piercing made you shiver as his tongue flicked across your clit making you whine. 

"'m ready." You choked out, glancing at Bakugou.

"Us first." Sero stepped in, gripping the base of his cock, tapping it against your lips, similarly to how Bakugou had done. Kirishima stepped up and nudged his cockhead against Sero's, the two unphased by it.

"I-I can't take both-"

"So take turns." Bakugou said bluntly. You glanced up at Sero and Kirishima, worryingly trying to take Kirishima's cock into your mouth first. You made it just barely past the tip of his fat cock, before you realized your attempt was futile. You brought a hand up to help, stroking the base of his cock while your mouth worked past the tip. Your free hand returned to jerk Sero off, your ego racing as you heard his own grunts of pleasure.

"She's a quick learner." Kirishima grins, his hand resting on your head as he guides you gently to take more of his cock into your mouth. Kirishima is saddened when you stop and switch to try and do the same for Sero.

Halfway through the transition, Kaminari's tongue prods through your entrance, making you stop. Your shoulders tense up and you freeze, quickly hunching over, grinding your cunt against Kaminari's mouth, the tips of his nose brushing against your clit.

"Fuck!" You cry, feeling yourself lose control. Your mind turns white for a moment, and all the pleasure begins to hurt as you want to leap off of Kaminari's tongue. But his strong arms wrapped around your thighs holding you in place stop you from doing so.

"It-it hurts! Please." You pant, your lips parted as you mewl against his face.

"He fucking did it. He made her cum." Sero groaned. Your head shot up, staring at the ravenette.

"T-that was-"

"A female orgasm? Yeah. Felt weird and tingly, and when he kept going it hurt. Fun huh." Sero grins. 

"Dude, let her explain it." Kirishima sighs. 

"It felt good. Really good. I've never felt anything like that before." You go to continue your job of blowing Sero, but he stops you. 

"Let's take this to Bakugou's room." Sero smirks. 

You're on your feet in a matter of seconds until the boys toss you onto Bakugou's cozy bed, the one you've crashed on multiple times while he was away or while he slept on the couch.

This time, Sero was quick to take control of the situation, ushering you to the edge of the bed where your head hung off. Sero smiled down at you, tapping his cock against your lips again as you eventually opened it for him. Before sliding it in, Sero leaned down and spit into your mouth, cutting any possible complaints off by shoving his cock down your throat.

"Fuck." Sero dragged out, watching as Kirishima took the opportunity to plant himself between your thighs, his tongue diving into your cunt. Your moans were silenced by Sero's cock as he fucked your throat raw. Kaminari was the only one who hadn't been inside your throat. But he was doing just fine, teasing himself with his hand, forcing himself to stop every time he felt like cumming at the sight of you being used by his friends.

"She tastes so good. Want more." Kirishima muttered against your cunt, using one hand to spread you open as his tongue wrecked your clit, his other hand dipped a single finger inside your tight entrance.

"She's so fucking tight." Kirishima commented, rubbing his middle finger along your folds, his knuckle just barely grazing the fleshy walls of your hole.

"I bet." Bakugou muttered.

"Can I fuck her thighs?" Kaminari asked, eyes bright with excitement. It was something he'd dreamt about doing. Feeling your plush thighs squeeze his cock, all while gripping handfuls of your tits, cumming on your tummy. It was a thought he could get off to over and over again.

"Shit. Gonna cum!" Sero groaned, sliding his cock past your lips once more, his cock twitching as he shot his hot load down your throat.

The next few seconds were fuzzy. Sero pulled out and shot up, cum leaking from past your lips. You couldn't swallow it. Shamefully spitting up, feeling horrible, it dropped onto your stomach and began to leak and make a mess.

"Awe, poor thing. Never had anyone cum in your pretty mouth before huh?" Sero patted your head, tilting it back so you could look up at him. Your lips were glossy and glistening with spit and cum, but your eyes were watery.

"Sorry! I-"

"Don't apologize. I should've just cum all over this pretty face instead." He smirked, leaning down, pressing a rough kiss to your lips. Kirishima decides to add another finger, and you're gone, moaning into Sero's mouth, hands gripping the sheets with enough force to turn your knuckles white.

Your thighs clamp over Kirishima's ears, and you find yourself grinding against his tongue and fingers, back arching off of the mattress. Bakugou just stands in awe, whipping out his phone to record the whole scene.

"Alright let Kaminari have his fuckin' turn." Bakugou groans, tugging Kirishima away, watching how your legs twitch as you cum for the second time. You're so sensitive and you don't know why. For the first time, after Sero pulls away, you see Kaminari's cock.

It's a little larger than average. It's pretty and slightly fatter at the head than at the base, and much like Sero's, as a pretty curve in it. Kaminari is eager to sandwich his cock between your thighs, watching how he smiles as he leans down to paw at your tits.

Just as he slides through your thighs, you feel the friction of his cock glide against your cunt, and suddenly you're awakened to yet another new feeling. Your back falls flat against the mattress again, your eyes floating back up to Sero who hovers over you. You go to reach for his cock but he shakes his head and yanks Kirishima over to his spot.

"Be a good girl for Kirishima, he likes to fuck pretty little mouths like yours." Sero grins evilly. You stare at the monster cock above your lips and you hesitate. How does he fucking live with a cock like this? Your cunt throbs just looking at it. You can imagine it buried in your cunt, your legs shaking as you cum over and over again on it.

Kaminari panted as moaned as his cock fucked your thighs, his hands still kneading your tits as Kirishima forced his cock down your throat, this time much slower than Bakugou or Sero had done. Your jaw ached in a much more intense pain. But you squeezed your eyes shut, ignoring it.

"That's it, take my fucking cock down your throat like the stupid little fucktoy you are." Kirishima degraded you. You let your hand travel down between your legs, forcing it to your cunt while not disrupting Kaminari's pleasure.

"Aw look, she wants to cum again." Kaminari quickly snatches your frisky hand back up, slowing his ministrations and slowing the friction of his cock grinding against your cunt.

Kaminari and the rest of the men hear your failed attempt at a whine as you struggle with Kirishima's cock in your mouth. Kaminari's hips move slowly and smoothly, humping your thighs like a needy pup.

Pining your hands to the mattress as he grinds his cock between your thighs, Kaminari lets out a huff before pulling himself away from you.

Kaminari groans and slinks over to Bakugou, whispering something in his ear which only elicits a smirk on his lips. Bakugou passes the word onto Sero who passes it onto Kirishima like a game of telephone.

Suddenly Kirishima's drawing his cock from your mouth and Bakugou's tugging you up.

"Get on your knees." Bakugou instructs, forcing your face down into the mattress, hiking your ass up into the air. Bakugou's palm comes down against your ass, the sound echoing in the full room. You whine into the sheets as he does it again, this time letting his hands grip your cheeks, spreading you apart.

"God, you're fucking dripping." Bakugou's not worried about the mess you've made smearing Sero's cum over his sheets, he'll have to wash them after what's going to happen.

Bakugou leans down into his mattress, tasting you for the first time. You clench the sheets between your hands, mewling in pleasure as his tongue flicks across your clit and scoops up your juices, most of it dribbling down his chin. He's eating you out like he'd been starved. You're cumming in a matter of seconds as he continues.

"'s too much! Please!" You cry out, your cunt aching in overstimulation. Kaminari had denied you once, and it didn't take much for the need to cum to overtake you.

"Gonna have to fuckin' punish you for that. Did I say you could cum, bitch?" Bakugou pulls away, spanking you once more.

"N-no!" You cry.

"'m sorry!" You apologize, hoping your efforts would spare you humiliation. But oh how wrong you were.

A searing pain rips through you as Bakugou's cock pushes past your entrance. Your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth hangs open, a small cry ripping through your throat.

"It hurts!" You cry. Suddenly, the searing pain stops. Bakugou has pulled out, sighing as he moves onto the bed, waving for the guys to join.

Bakugou guides you down onto his cock, however, this time it's more like sitting on his lap. He's propped against his headboard, and you ease down as best as you can. It hurts, but Kirishima and Sero coddle you, kissing on your neck and chest, leaving Kaminari to suck on your nipples, flicking his tongue across your the hardened buds.

Bakugou bottoms out inside of you and all you can feel is the stretch. It hurts, more than anything you've ever felt. It's overwhelming and you can't think at all. Bakugou doesn't move. He rests inside you until you give a weary moan.

"Better?" He asks softly.

"Y-yeah." Your arms sling over the shoulders of the redhead and ravenette attacking your shoulders and neck with kisses and bites.

Bakugou's hands rest on your hips and help you up and down as you begin to bounce on his cock, the tip nudging against a spongey spot inside you, forcing moans to spew from you like a shook-up soda.

"Her moans are so fuckin' dirty." Kirishima speaks against your skin, sinking a hand down to your cunt, his fingers beginning to work at your clit, making you spew even lewder sounds as your moans turn to mewls and cries of pleasure.

"Who knew she could moan like that?" Kaminari laughed, palming at your breasts. You feel embarrassed, letting these men rip you to shreds while trying to learn.

It then dawns on you how you'd ended up in this predicament in the first place. You came here willing to learn, hoping to bring back something to help Izuku, but you'd completely blanked. You couldn't really remember anything they'd taught you, or if they'd taught you anything at all. Once you sucked Bakugou's cock, it'd all happened so fast.

Sitting on Denki's face, stuffing your face full of Kirishima and Sero's cock, cumming on Bakugou's tongue while being face down on his bed. It was all a strange feeling.

And now as your mind began to turn blank, vision clouding from pleasure, you realized you were fixing to cum again, this time from Bakugou's cock. All your pain had melted away-though a dull ache still remained in your abdomen, and turned to pleasure. You were cumming.

You. Were cumming.

Bakugou had taken your virginity.

And Bakugou had come to the same conclusion. As your cunt squeezed and pulsed against his aching cock, so desperately wanting to spill his load inside you and see you plump with his kid, claiming you for his own, stealing you away from that stupid fucking nerd you were with, he realized he had been the one in the end to claim you, and your virginity.

It was a sick and twisted sense of pride, to really think he had any say-so over your body. But there was something so devilishly hot to say that he'd been your first.

"Bakugou!" You cried out, your nails digging into the skin of Kirishima and Sero. Bakugou's cock continued to thrust into you.

"Yeah take my fuckin' cock. Take it you fuckin' whore. Gonna fuck you until you're braindead." Bakugou muttered, reaching a hand up to grip your throat, forcing your back against his chest.

"I wanna see you full of Kirishima's cock. Think you could take it? He'd rip you apart." Bakugou grinned, setting his friend up next. You shook your head against his hand on your throat.

"It's too big!" You cried, hoping that he'd listen to you. But he didn't. Instead, you found yourself back on the mattress, this time on your hands and knees. Weakly you kept yourself upright as Kirishima positioned at your entrance,

"Gonna use you like the little cocksleeve you are." Kirishima chuckles, watching as you squirm as the tip grazes your tight hole. Your cunt is dripping, every little touch seems to make you whine, and you can't tell if you've peed yourself or if you're just that wet. You think the former would be less embarrassing, but you decide to just stop thinking about it, and instead, you thank your body for all the natural lubrication it's making for Kirishima's cock.

Kaminari takes your mouth, sliding his cock inside and finally getting to feel what everyone else had. You can't speak, you can barely make any sounds with how raw they've fucked your throat. And you're painfully aware that they hadn't even bothered to slap on a condom. Not that you'd minded, they'd shown you time and time again that they were clean, and you were happy they'd taken the steps to have safe sex with any partner they had.

Kirishima's fingers leave bruises on your hips, gripping you with force. He sheathes himself inside you and you swear you feel yourself ripping in half.

It's so much, all at one time.

"Holy shit she fucking took you all." Bakugou says shocked, almost as if that was something to be proud of.

"He sent a chick to the ER. That phone call was awful." Sero teases the redhead for one of his mishaps.

"I didn't purposely hurt her! I was just trying to have fun, didn't think my cock was capable of tearing her fuckin' vagina." Kirishima feels a bit awkward talking about a terrible sex story while he's plowing into you, especially since you're too cockdrunk to even realize what's happening.

"Would you two shut up?" Kaminari's grabbing a fistful of your hair as he tilts your head back, sliding his cock down your throat, smiling down at you.

"You're doing such a good job. So fuckin' cute swallowing my cock like that." Kaminari praises. His praises make you feel warm and fuzzy, and you think for a moment, this is what it's like to be loved. But then images of Deku cross your mind. And your gaze drops, and you feel ashamed. You feel dirty.

You repeat to yourself that this is just a learning experience and nothing more. You'd never do this because you weren't satisfied in your relationship. No. You were doing this for Deku. You wanted to show him you knew what you were doing. You wanted to show him he could fuck your throat and make you cum with his tongue.

Kirishima grunted, his cock stretching even further, reminding you of the pain Bakugou had put you through the first time he'd entered you. It burned, but it became tolerable after a while.

"Shit, she's so fuckin' tight. Wanna cum inside." Kirishima groans. Your ears perk up at his words. You want to tell him no, but you can't. You don't. He pulls out before he gets the chance to and you're relieved.

"Sero, your turn." Kirishima trades places with Sero who was stroking his cock watching you get dicked down on both ends. Sero's cock takes you down an undiscovered path.

It seems every time he slides into you, his cock nudges against that spot inside you, making you cry in pleasure as Kaminari swaps places with Bakugou, his cock rammed down your throat once more.

Things become blurry, and all you remember is cumming again and again. When Sero nears his climax, he swaps places with Kaminari and Kirishima takes his chance to fuck your throat.

Kaminari's pace is different from Kirishima, Sero, and Bakugou's. He has no restraint. He fucks you fast, and hard, sending your body forward with each heavy thrust. He might be a bit smaller compared to the males, but he surely makes up for it.

"Out of everyone here, Kaminari has the most experience." Sero chimes in, patting his shoulder while he huffs, pounding into you until you're cumming around his cock, your milky white juices leaking out everywhere.

"She's making such a mess. How pitiful. So how fucked out are you, gorgeous?" Sero asks, watching as Kirishima pulls his cock out from your mouth, drool and saliva dripping past your lips as you choke out a moan.

"Feels-s so good." You babble, your head hangs on your shoulder as you bury it into the mattress, moaning as Kaminari fucks you into yet another orgasm. His stamina is incredible considering you thought he was still new to sex. Sorry Kami.

"She's fuckin' out of it jesus christ." Bakugou mumbles, pulling Kaminari out from between your cunt. Bakugou flips you onto your back and stares at you in amazement. Your legs are shaking and you're still making noise, whining about how you want more and how empty you feel.

"Please, fill me up." You whine, staring at the boys.

"With a face like that, how could we resist?" Kirishima grins, slapping Sero on the ass. Sero rolls his eyes and joins you on the bed.

"Think you can take two at once gorgeous?" Sero coos, laying down beside you, ushering you to lay on top of him. Your mouth drops open as you lower yourself onto him and lay back, watching as Bakugou saunters around to the front. He grins as he lines his cock up at your entrance, just barely pushing his tip inside.

"Kirishima stretched her out good for us to use her like the little whore she is. God, she's so fucking good at this I almost don't wanna give her back." Sero whines against your back, kissing your bare skin as Kaminari watches in amazement as Bakugou sinks his cockhead inside your already full cunt.

"So full. Want your cocks inside me." You manage to blurt out as Bakugou grips your thighs, shoving his cock into your stuffed pussy. It wouldn't fit all the way, but it threw you over the edge.

"Maybe she needs that filthy mouth of hers full of cock again." Kirishima's hand strokes his cock, eyeing Kaminari. Kaminari eagerly hops onto the bed, his knees hitting against Sero's arm as he taps his cock on your lips.

"Come on angel, wrap those pretty lips around my dick." Kaminari smiles, watching as your mouth lolled open. Sero's arms wrapped around your tummy, holding you against him as he fucked up into you, his cock rubbing against Bakugou's inside of you, both cocks rubbing against your walls, making you feel insanely good.

Kirishima was not going to let this moment go to waste. Snatching Bakugou's phone, he began to record, calling you a slut for them.

"Look at this cockdrunk whore. Stuffed full of three fuckin' cocks." Kirishima laughed, holding the phone near your pussy, making sure to record how Bakugou and Sero abused your cunt.

"What would Deku do if he got this nasty little clip huh? Bet he'd call you a slut. Watching his friends fuck your little virgin cunt until you're braindead." Kirishima grinned as he moved and set the phone up to continue recording for the rest of the session.

"Wanna fuckin' fill you up." Bakugou grunted.

"Teach that nerd a fuckin' lesson about how to fuck a woman." He continued.

"She's making such a mess, look at that pretty pussy. So sloppy." Kaminari moaned as your tongue swirled around the head of his cock, trying your best to take him into your mouth. The angle was a bit awkward but you managed, eventually pulling him into your mouth.

"God let's hurry this up, I can't take much more of her cunt squeezing me." Sero huffed into your back. He was going to cum again if he kept going. He wanted to fill you up like everyone else did, but he wanted to see his cum all over your pretty face.

Bakugou pulled out first leaving Sero alone inside you. You let out a strangled moan as Bakugou tapped his cock against your sensitive clit, your cries no longer silenced by Kaminari's cock since he too had pulled his cock from your mouth.

"Get down on the floor, on your knees." Bakugou instructed. Hazily you lifted yourself from Sero's cock, slightly amused by the moan he let out as he slid out of you. You stumbled onto the floor, sitting patiently on your knees as they gathered around you, this time smushing themselves to all have a view of you in the front.

"Can't wait to see you covered in cum." Kaminari spoiled the surprise, his hand jerking his cock. You stared up at Bakugou. Leaning in you licked the tip of his cock, watching as his eyes rolled back. You took turns swapping between the males until they were all helping you out, stroking their cocks at fast paces until Bakugou came.

Hot ropes of cum stuck to your face and chest as Kaminari came second, Sero third, and Kirishima fourth. It dribbled down your chin as you stared up at them, each of them smiling proudly at you.

"So fuckin' slutty. Look at her, so fucked out." Sero said breathily. They all rushed to grab their phones, snapping pictures of you covered in their cum. You just sat quietly, staring up at them as your chest heaved, your cunt throbbing.

"So what'd you learn?" Bakugou leans down, a handful of your hair holding your head back so he could look into your eyes.

"I-I like being stuffed full of cock." You babbled. Your cheeks were stained with his cum.

"Whose cock?" Bakugou's eyes narrowed.

"Yours." You parted your lips, still miraculously trying to catch your breath.

"Good girl." Bakugou praised. The other boys gathered around you, leaning down with towels to help clean you up.

It took about fifteen minutes to clean you up entirely, but afterward, they helped dress you and treated you to some dinner. You were nothing but smiles the entire time.

Before you left their apartment, Bakugou pulled you aside.

"Record your time with Deku so we can give you another lesson." He whispered into your ear, an evil smirk on his lips. You pulled away from him shyly, nodding.

"Thank you for teaching me." You thanked the men as you walked toward the door, an obvious limp in your step.

"Do you need a ride home angel?" Sero asks, ready to hop in his car and drive you over to your shared apartment with Deku.

"I think I'll be okay. I drove here anyway." You giggle. Sero smiles and glances at the others. Visions of your face covered in cum plague Sero's thoughts and he wants to slam you against the front door and fuck you all over again.

The same image is running through everyone's head as they stare at you as you leave, wanting you to stay. But it's too late when the door shuts and they're left alone as if nothing had happened.

"What happened doesn't leave this fuckin' apartment." Bakugou states, trudging off down to his room to put his freshly washed sheets on the bed.

When you arrive home, Deku's happy to see you. He doesn't question where you'd been, he knew you were with the boys hanging out. He smiles when you kiss him, and he's nothing but unaware of what had gone down.

He doesn't know about the cocks that had been stuffed inside your cunt, or a spot or two of dried cum that the towel might've missed that you'll clean up in the shower soon. He doesn't know about how dirty your mouth got and how it was filled with his friend's cocks only hours earlier.

He cuddles you sincerely until your hand begins to wander, palming him through his boxers.

"I'm ready." You smile sweetly, ready to put all that you had learned to the test.

✦ 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ✦

[wednesdaywrites]

leon and ryan have their first encounter with a licker and retrieve the second medallion.

leon s. kennedy x oc

warning: canon typical violence

lowercase is an aesthetic choice

masterlist

before they could even turn to leave the safety deposit room, they heard something slamming against the door.

        it busted open and a walker shambled in at them.

        “where did you come from?!” ryan demanded in exasperation.

        ragh! was the only response she got as the walker lunged at them.

        she raised the shotgun and boom it's head exploded.

        “nice shot!” leon said. “let’s get out of here.”

        “on our merry way we go, officer friendly.”

        they exited the safety deposit room, checking around the corner to make sure they had no unexpected visitors. 

        “clear,” she announced, progressing down the hall. 

        they went up the stairs to find the body that had been sitting there now up and walking around.

        “we don’t have time for this!” ryan exclaimed, grabbing the walkers arms and using the momentum from its lunge to throw it over the railing. 

        “we have guns. . .”

        “i’m impatient!”

        they went down that hall to the men’s locker room. it was dark as hell and musty.

        “i don’t suppose you have a spare flashlight?” ryan asked.

        leon shook his head. “sorry, we're limited to this one.”

        he slipped past her and opened one of the lockers, yelping in a mix of shock and disgust when a body fell out at him; he pushed it to the side and it hit the floor hard.

        she tried really hard not to laugh, but he saw her poorly suppressed smile when he turned to look at her.

        “poor bastard must have been trying to hide. . .” 

        she nudged the body with her foot. “this whole place is a goddamn nightmare.”

        “what was that written on the board downstairs?”

        “cap. . .” she responded, stepping over the body to stand beside him.

        “c. . . a. . . p. . .” with a click, the lock popped open. “am i a wizard, too?”

        she sighed, shaking her head, though she couldn’t mask her smile. “yes, leon, you’re a wizard, too.”

        “damn right,” he said, opening the locker. “shotgun shells.”

        “mine!”

        she took the shells and dumped them into her pouch. 

        “hey, get that handle out. . .”

        she slipped off her backpack, setting it down and digging through it to get the red handle out; she handed it over to leon, who fit it on the bolt on the pipe. he turned the handle and the steam stopped spitting out of the pipe.

        “great job!” she said. “lemme check the rest of these lockers and then we'll go.”

        open. shotgun shells, nice. open. nothing, rude. 

        “huh?”

        she gently tore a paper off the wall, scanning it as best as she could in the dark. 

portable safe instructions

press a button to light up its corresponding lamp. light them all to open the safe.

the buttons must be pressed in a certain order. pressing a single button out of order will cause all of the lights to go out and you will need to start the sequence over again.

        “what portable—” she looked up. “oh.”

        she took the tiny thing off the rack, inspecting the buttons.

        “can i get a light?”

        leon came up beside her, shining his light on the thing. “what’s this?”

        “a safe of some kind. . .” shake, shake, rattle, rattle. “there’s something in it. . .”

        she pressed one of the buttons and, as promised, a light lit up. she pressed another, frowning when the previous light went out and another lit up.

        “this may take a while. . .”

        leon looked behind them. “can it wait?”

        “ugh.” she put the thing in the side pouch of her backpack. “lead the way.”

        they walked back to the shower room, where they found a hole blown into the wall.

        “what is it with this place and broken walls?” she asked, pausing momentarily at the sight of a hunched over figure in the next room.

        leon raised his handgun. “i don’t want to find out. . .”

        they approached slowly, each growing suspicious when the figure didn’t move. 

        “touch it. . .” ryan whispered.

        leon gave her an odd look over his shoulder, poking the figure's shoulder with his hand gun. 

        they both breathed a sigh of relief when the body slumped over.

        “onward we go.”

        leon nodded. “yeah. onward.”

        she stuck close behind him as they progressed out the door to their left.

        the corridor was dark, but the shine of a flashlight at the other end combined with leon’s allowed her to see a bloody corpse laying on the floor. downpour coming in through a broken window spread the blood halfway down the corridor.

        they moved slowly, both on edge.

        ryan gasped in shock when something moved on the ceiling, and a large appendage of some kind sprouted from whatever it was and impaled the body below, pulling it up to the ceiling. leon shined the flashlight up, showing a fleshless being tearing into the corpse.

        he froze, eyes locked on the thing. “what in god's name. . . ?”

        “what the hell is it?” ryan asked in a petrified whisper.

        “i don’t know. . .” leon said quietly. “but i don’t think it knows we're here. . .”

        she suppressed a gag at the sound of the thing’s relentless feasting. “let’s keep it that way. . .”

        they crept along slowly and this time she didn’t stop herself from grabbing onto his arm.

        right when they were just a few feet from the carnage, the beast dropped the body; ryan bit her tongue to suppress a noise of fear. 

        leon nudged her and pointed to their left.

        thank god. . . a door!

        he opened it as quietly as possible, ushering her in and closing the door behind them. 

        an office. lovely.

        “if we see one more of those things. . .” ryan went to one of the desks and slumped into the chair, “i’m literally going to kill myself.”

        leon started wide-eyed at her, shocked by her statement.

        “i—” she sighed. “nevermind.”

        he shook off whatever concern he had. “i’m gonna look in here. stay there.”

        “i don’t particularly have anywhere else to go. . .” she said as he went into the smaller office.

        she watched him through the window as he looked around for anything useful. 

        “hey,” he called softly. “i found a battery. maybe it’ll fit in that detonator we found.”

        “ooh, bring it.”

        he came out and tossed the battery to her; she barely caught it.

        “rude. i’m not sporty.” she shrugged off her backpack and rummaged through it for the detonator. “’kay, battery in.”

        she set the detonator delicately on the desk.

        “hope we find what that’s for soon,” leon said, going over to the computer sitting unlocked on a nearby desk. 

        she nodded. “me too. whatcha doin'?”

        “checking something. . . damn, need a dongle key. . .” he turned to her. “think that thing's still out there?”

        “probably. . .” she paused for a moment. “give me something to throw. i have an idea.”

        he looked to his left and she practically saw the lightbulb go off above his head. he reached over a grabbed a trophy of the nearby shelf, holding it up questioningly.

        she grinned. “perfect.” 

        she stood and pulled her backpack back on, trading him the trophy for the detonator. she moved to the door, pushing it open slowly. leaning out the door, she swung the trophy back and forth a few times before chucking it down the hall. it crashed to the floor at the end of the hall hard, and the creature screeched and scrambled toward the noise.

        she looked over her shoulder at leon with a mouthed “now!” 

        they scurried out silently—with ryan stopping and grabbing the flashlight laying on the bench on the way—and snuck the rest of the way down the hall.

        “this door here needs a diamond key. . .” she whispered. “what about that one?”

        leon moved closer. “it's bolted from this side.”

        “nice, let’s go. . .”

        leon turned the lock and opened the door. “clear.”

        she ducked in and he stepped in behind her, closing the door after them.

        looking up, they were met with the unicorn statue. before she could even ask, leon handed her the notebook.

        “you seem to like to do all the heavy lifting,” he said.

        she smiled, taking the notebook. “makes me feel useful.”

        she went to the statue and put in the symbols. the statue rumbled and out came the medallion.

        “two out of three. . .” she turned back to him, holding up the medallion with a proud smile. “we're almost out of here—what?”

        leon shook out of his trance—she had to convince herself she didn’t catch the faintest hint of a blush on his cheeks—flushed from all the running around, is all, she told herself—and smiled sheepishly at her. “nothing, nothing. . .”

        “hey are those maps. . . ?” she walked up the two steps to a podium with a bunch of pages on them. “they are. . . c’mon, officer friendly, looks like we can get out through the library. . .”

[mooshs-crack-headcanons]

Hey. Could I request headcanons of shanks' s/o feeling invisible and lashing out due to the bitterness that surrounds feeling invisible and Shanks comforting them and spending a day focusing on them to help lessen them feeling invisible? Hurt/comfort with fluff at the end? Thank you. Love your writing.

(I hope this came out okay ☺️)

It's really hard to feel confident about your strength when you're in a Yonko crew. 

Literally everyone around you has unhuman-like strength, and enough power to conquer a piece of the New World.

And especially with the Red Haired crew, who had the smallest crew out of all four emperors, was considered by many in the Grandline to be arguably the strongest with that fact alone. 

And also that fact the captain in his hay day was able to stand equal to the strongest swordsman in the world there's that too.

Without a doubt you had love and admiration for every single member of your crew, all of them were incredibly down to earth and especially kind, your captain being the most passionate out of all of them, one of the main reasons you fell in love with him. 

But you always found yourself envious of all of them.

You weren't necessarily a fighter, sure you would willingly be ready to up arms once trouble came but not strong enough to eventually find yourself being saved time and time again. 

Every time it made you sick to your stomach and disappointed in yourself, why were you a part of a Yonko crew when you couldn't even fight like it?!

So came a day when one of these fateful rescues took place. 

The crew faced down some cocky group of pirates fairly new to the New World, and stupid enough to go after a Yonko (*cough cough* it's fucking Kid *cough*) 

In the battle you twisted your ankle and began to tumble down and the same moment one of the pirates saw an opening, and in the moment of pure panic Shanks, who normally would stay out of your fights knowing your complex, dashed over and with a clash of his sword, he looked back at you before calling Roo over to get you back to ship. 

You laid in the med ward for days refusing to speak to anyone. 

The rest of the crew would pass by worried but Shanks gave the okay that you'd be okay in a few days.

Though the fact you even refused to speak to him did worry him a bit. 

Then came the day you finally recovered. You made your way out to deck where the crew sat and drank and partied, you know, the normal. Shanks sat at his seat and his eyes immediately lit up as they fell on you. 

"(Name)! Good to see you out of bed so soon, I was worried that 'ya'd find the bed in the ward so comfortable that you'd refuse to sleep in ours ever again!" His contagious laugh caught with the rest of the crew around him. 

You shook your head as you began to make your way to your shared cabin. Seeing this, Shanks immediately rose to his feet, dashing over to you and grabbing your hand to stop you from leaving. 

"Come on, love! You know I'm just joking around." 

"Yeah I know, Shanks." You tried to pull your arm out of his grasp. 

"Come on, have a few drinks with us. After all you've been through, you need it." A frown made its way on your face. 

"I'm not in the mood, Shanks." Already aware of what's up, he gave you a small smile as his grip on your hand slightly tightened. 

"Come on, I'm sure a few with the boys will make you feel-" 

You finally yanked your hand from his, your cold expression already crackling with everything you held inside, the Yonko already regretted his choice of words. 

"I said I'm not in the mood! I'm not in the mood to go over there and be reminded that you and all of those men would be damn fine without me! Now if you'd excuse me, I'd rather go somewhere where someone weak and normal like me can go and not need constant protection." 

He watched you trudge away back to your shared cabin with a heavy smile, the soft secure smile he put on just for you quickly fading away. 

"Looks like someone's in the doghouse." Fucking Yasopp. A loud blunt force echoed from his head.

“Yewouch! Benn! The hell is your problem?!" 

Shanks clicked his tongue, undecidedly. He could go in there to comfort you, or (most likely) get slapped and thrown out on his ass. 

“You'll never learn to shut your mouth, will you?" 

The Yonko reflexively reached up for the top of his hat, but only to touch the top of his head. Oh yeah, Luffy. He turned around to look back at the rest of his partying crew, who seemed to have no clue what had happened. 

He grudgingly trudged back over to his original seat, the image of your broken expression still fresh in his mind 

Oh he needed to fix this. 

Then the relationship saving lightbulb went off his head. 

Oh he had just the right solution to solve this. 

At exactly 5:02 am did the loud knocks on your bedroom door yank you out of sleep. The early morning light filled the room, but your fresh out of sleep eyes couldn't make out what the fuck was happening and what was making that ungodly noise. 

After a few long waking moments did you finally piece it together and after glancing at the time did you throw your legs out of bed to get yourself up to get to the door. 

"Either Yasopp better be dead or the ship's bring hijacked to be an excuse to get me up at this ungodly-" 

You opened the door to meet a tall figure. 

"-hour…" 

Benn stood in your doorway, the vice captain scratched at his nose biting down nervously at the cigarette in his mouth. 

"Benn?" 

"I uh...overhead your outburst yesterday, and I uh...wanted to ask if you wanted to go out to town with me today?" 

Benjamin 'I show no signs of weakness' Beckman was acting nervous. 

Benjamin 'My only love is my gun' Beckman never is nervous. 

"We uh...docked not that long ago."

This immediately tipped your suspensions. Something in the back of your mind told you a certain Red Haired bastard had to be behind this.

"Sure Benn, I'd love too. Around what time do you want to set off?" 

Something in him seemed to be caught off guard, he looked around before biting the slightest bit tighter on his cigarette. 

"Around nine." You gave him a smile and a nod. 

"Well, see you then." 

You gently closed the door back. You sighed as you took a step back. 

Shanks, what were you planning? 

At 9:15, the two of you met on deck to set off. As you went to get off ship you took note that every member gave you a warm smile and a gentle greeting as they all carried large barrels out of the ship's storage, which really wasn't all that ordinary since the barrels all contained alcohol and your crew was nothing but a bunch of alcoholics. 

No what was another tip off was not only was Yasopp not being a piece of shit towards you. He actually gave you a kind hello and said something along the lines of that Shanks went off to take care of some business earlier in the morning. (That didn't stop him from making the in the doghouse joke and about the deck not being very comfortable) 

Benn then took you to the small port town, Benn letting you decide to go everywhere you wanted. The two of you went shopping, saw a street performance, went and got dinner at a small restaurant, and rode on some small rides at the visiting carnival (Which Benn wasn't a big fan of.)

You might've even regretted your decision of choosing Shanks as your boyfriend (but the Red Haired bastard already had your heart for too long) 

Around the evening did the two of you decided to head back to ship, the deep dark thoughts of you being an unneeded part of the crew, while still there, was pushed back to the farthest part of your mind. 

As soon as your feet hit the deck of the Red Force, did another tip off went through your mind. 

No one was on deck. Not a single drunk soul.

Benn lit up a cigarette next to you and shove his hands in his pockets. 

"Well that's strange. Where'd everyone go?" 

You looked around, looking for any signs of your lover. He had to be behind this. 

Benn made his way to the door of the mess hall. 

"Maybe we missed dinner?" You cocked your eyebrow. Yup, he's leading you. 

You followed Benn into the mess hall. 

What time of surprise party shit were you going to find yourself in?

The moment your feet left the stair and landed on the planked floor did the scene in front of you bring tears to your eyes. 

Shanks stood in front of you, flowers in his hand as the rest of the crew held up their mugs of alcohol to you and a shitty made banner with your name on it in your favorite color hung from the ceiling. 

Shanks walked closer to you and handed you the flowers, his only arm wrapping around your waist to press a kiss to the top of your head. 

You felt your heart thump happily in your chance as he looked back to you to give you a small loving smile. Your arms wrapped around him to bring him into a kiss and you could barely hear the whistles and cheers around you as he was the only thing your mind became focused on was him. 

He pulled back with a laugh and lifted you up and spun you around. He leaned close into your ear. 

"I love you, (Name). I'm really sorry about yesterday and that...that you feel not that appreciated that you should be...I'm sorry." You felt your cheeks tinted as your arms wrapped around his neck, his red hair tickling your arm. You smiled. 

"It's fine, Shanks...love you too."

The two of you ended up in Shanks' captain seat in the mess hall. His hand with a mug of whiskey wrapped around you, and you with yours in his lap. 

The crew around you laughed as they drank. 

"Oh! And there was that time (Name) saw one of Kaido's ships! If it wasn't for them we all could've been food for Sea Kings!" 

"No wait, the best thing I can recall (Name) doing was saving Yasopp's ass in that territory raid two years ago!" 

"If it wasn't for their observation haki, we would've never made it out of Big Mom's territory!"

"Oh I remember that! Didn't they flip off what's his face...uh…the candy cane guy! One of Big Mom's older children."

"Charlotte Perospero."

"Yeah, that guy!"

The crew all laughed and you found the big smile on your face still hadn't left as the crew helped boost your confidence.

"Men, men. We can all agree (Name) has done many great things for us all." 

The Red Haired crew looked back at their captain excitedly. 

He looked at you with a knowing smile, you covered your face with your hands knowing what was coming. He raised his mug in the air, whiskey sloshing out of the brim.

"To (Name)!"

The crew raised up their mugs.

"To (Name)!"

The crew broke into a loud laughter and cheers as you shook your head. The Yonko let his chin rest in the dip in your shoulder as the two of you watched your crew having a good time. He then pressed multiple kisses to your cheek. 

"I just hope you know that you mean the whole world to me. Weak and normal, Love, none of that matters all that matters is that every single person on this crew sees your strength, sure that might not be physical, but you've done so much more than just battle strength wise, you've brightened up crew so much and we all can't wait to continue on with you at our side." 

[urlocalfrogmammy]

hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have, but i have it—ronald speirs

inspired by

(and my 12-1am contemplation)

@yeahcurrahee : Hey! I was wondering if you could do a Ronald Speirs imagine with the prompt “you can’t keep avoiding your problems!” “i avoid you well enough!”? Thank you!

when your feeling utterly lost, speirs shows you a side you're not used to seeing.

literally started writing this as sOON as i got the request because i was listening to the song and i was like 👀. not re-read it, not cut it down. my pure, unfiltered 12am thoughts. word count 2k because i don't know where to stop at this time. i hope u enjoy it <3 thank u for the request

there was a soft breeze that blew the sheer curtains. the doors to the balcony had been left open the night before, you couldn't be bothered closing them before slipping into your silk sheets. now, the rays of sunshine cast a heavenly glow on the marble floor of your room, and believing in a god no longer felt foolish to you. you, however, were not exactly feeling like you belonged in the paradise of that austrian hotel room. you'd spent your night tossing and turning, stripping layers of clothes off in cold sweats between nightmares. you now lay wearily in your bed, wondering why you couldn't sleep as well as everyone else. you were a lieutenant, for christ's sake. you were supposed to be training the men to go to war once again. but you were haunted by the images of the war. you'd seen almost all your friends injured or dead. chuck grant with his head shot, bill and joe with their legs missing, gordon paralysed, hoobler bleeding out, jackson in that dingy basement, skip and penkala being blown up—

breathe, you told yourself.

now you could barely look your men in the face without feeling guilty for sending them off to the hell you'd experienced. you had the points. you could go home. but you knew in your heart you'd forever feel ashamed if you left now. your head, being wiser, knew that you'd forever feel guilty for leading these men back into combat, after they'd earned long and happy lives.

instead of worrying about your inner conflict, you lay and stared up at the lighting fixture. there were three lightbulbs, surrounded by tulip-shaped lampshades. they were edged with gold, and they reflected in the light. you stared and stared, until your eyes began to drop. a bang on your door startled you, and you called: "i'm naked!"

ron speirs came barging into the room. "lieutenant what the hell are you playing at?"

see, the awkward thing was that you really were naked. you grasped the sheets to pull over your bare chest and a small squeak cane out of your throat. "i told you i was naked sir!" speirs awkwardly stood in your room like he was lost in the middle of a jungle and had stumbled into a foreign camp. he slowly prowled towards the dresser, lifting up a jewel encrusted brush you'd snagged and holding it up to the light. the reflection was cast on the wall opposite, leaving a glowing pattern on the cream walls. you sat up onto your elbow and stared at your captain. you weren't blind, you knew he was handsome in a sort of rugged way, but the delicate light from those french doors radiated a celestial glow onto him, making his appear angelic. you watched as speirs fumbled with the silver box of pins, trying to figure out how to open it. a soft click confirmed he'd succeeded and he peered inside, unimpressed at the contents of the box.

you wanted to scream. you wanted to tell the man to get out your room. but instead, you just observed him as a glint from your bedside table caught his eye. slowly approaching both you and the bedside table, he lifted up the best thing you'd snagged. a diamond necklace, four diamonds thick, with tendrils of diamonds hanging down from it. you knew it was worth a small fortune, because it was one of the most luxurious pieces of jewellery you'd ever seen. looking down on you, ron leaned down and held it up to your bare neck. "it's pretty."

"thank you." your voice was breathless, ron had taken that away. standing back up and letting the necklace clatter on the glass tabletop, ron's demeanour returned to normal. "are you going to get dressed?" you simply pointed to behind the door.

ron's footfalls were the only thing heard in the room as he grabbed the silk robe from the back of the door and chucked it at you. you caught it with one hand, and ron turned around to give you some privacy. he heard you place yourself back on the bed before telling him you were decent. as he turned back around to look at you, he swore he'd never seen anyone as ethereal as you in that moment. your hair was down, something he had never seen before, and it caught the light. your eyes gleamed as the looked at him, sparkling with something he couldn't recognise. your cheeks were flushed and your lips looked soft. “you’re not sleeping.”

“of cour—”

“you’ve got dark circles.”

he watched as you scoffed, walking over to the dressing table mirror and peering into it. “maybe i’d get less stressed if i was tested less.”

picking up the hairbrush, you slowly began to pull it through your hair. ron watched your reflection in the mirror. “why are you here, captain speirs?”

“why aren’t you with your men?” you paused, hissing as you got to a knot in your hair you couldn’t untangle, right at the back of your head. ron felt an insatiable urge, and indulged himself in it. taking the brush from your hands, your hair was like silk in between his fingers. he dragged the hairbrush through your hair slowly, and your head tilted back towards the movement of the brush.

“you never answered my question, lieutenant.” you hummed in content at the soothing feeling of having your hair brushed, and looked up at him in the mirror. “just let me enjoy this. this is the best things that’s happened to me since nixon brought me that bacon sandwich.” ron chuckled at the statement, and continued to brush your hair with a softness you hadn’t expected from him. the gesture was very out of character, but you accepted it with open arms. maybe you just didn’t know your captain as well as you thought you did. there was a clank as ron set the brush back down and you turned on your stool to look at him. he looked down on you with a look you couldn’t decipher, so you stood and padded over to the bed again.

"the men need someone else." ron stared at you from across the room. arms crossed. "i can't do it."

"why?"

"because..." you couldn't articulate what you were feeling. "i... i can't watch another boy die. screaming for the medic, or their mother, with blood coming out of their mouth and—" you cut yourself off abruptly in order to stop yourself from crying in front of the captain. he approached you, crouching down until he was at your eye level. "aren't you just happy that the war's over in europe?"

you scoffed again. "don't ask if i'm happy."

"why?"

"you know that i'm not." your traced your fingers along the silk of the creamy sheets, stained with your sweat and a reminder of all the images you'd had in your dreams. "at best i can say i'm not sad." you glanced fleetingly at him, with a half smile on your face. you wondered how your captain would ever understand how you were feeling. ronald was ruthless, to the point. he acted as every solider should, no second thoughts, no remorse.you wondered if he ever understand the guilt that hung heavy on your conscience, like a plaque that read i've murdered more people than i can count.

ron sat on the bed next to you. "you're a good leader, y/n."

"yeah?" you tucked your hair behind your ear.

“yeah.” he smiled, something you hadn’t seen properly before. ron had always been stern faced or shouting, but it was worth it for the smile. his eyes crinkled, twinkling like the constellations in the sky. you looked away from him and shrugged. “i don’t know. maybe.” you stood back up, collecting your clothes off the floor, and dumping them on the bed. “y/n.” you ignored him, picking up your army pants and folding them leg to leg. “y/n, you can’t keep avoiding your problems.”

“really? because i avoid you well enough.” a neatly folded shirt now joined the pants. speirs walked behind you, and you could feel the warmth he radiated on your back. his hands captured your wrists. “stop.” you turned your head to look at him, and his lips met yours.

at first you froze, and then you jumped back. ron felt a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. had he read the signs wrong? “y/n, i’m sorry i—”

“no. i’m sorry. i panicked, i...” you turned around properly, “spilling my guts with... drunkards who don’t care about me... is the only love i’ve ever known.” he felt a pang if guilt, that someone as beautiful as you had never experienced what love really was. he looked down on you and murmured: “let me look after you.” you wrapped your arms around his neck. ron’s hands found your waist, and he pulled you back in for another kiss. this time, it was reciprocated. softly, gently, and with feeling. lifting you up and sitting on the bed with you in his lap, the kiss continued with more compassion and care. you pulled away.

"wow." your laugh was breathy and shaking. ron just grinned, hair ruffled and chest heaving under you. easing yourself off him, you could feel your legs trembling. "i should... probably get ready." a sudden wave of guilt slammed into you. you were enjoying yourself, and you should have been out there training your men. the men you were responsible for. your chin wobbled and you turned away from your captain, unable to stop the tears welling in your eyes. "hey, y/n look at me." ron lifted you chin up to look at him. "everything is fine. you have done your very best. just..." his voice softened, "hope for the best." you sniffled, and he told you he'd leave you to get dressed. as he was about to open the door, when you answered him. "hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have," you said softly. he turned to look at you, "but i have it."

he left you alone to your thoughts as you got dressed. your ike jacket was a little loose, you didn't have the broad figure expected, and your hair could barely stay in its pins, but you looked a lot better than you had done for a while. your face wore a smile. going down the luxurious stairs of cream marble to meet the other officers, you were greeted by a slightly drunken lewis nixon at the bottom of them. "captain nixon."

"lieutenant y/n. nice lie in?"

"shut up." you shoved him with an elbow and he just giggled that dumb giggle. he held his hands up in mock surrender, "i'm serious, y/n. you're looking a lot better than when we got here." wrapping an arm around your shoulder, nix guided you into the glass room with the huge wooden table and sat you down on it. ron was stood at one corner, drinking coffee and consulting his map. you smiled shyly at you, and he smirked back. lewis seemed to pick this up, and he handed you a teacup and saucer and winked at you. you couldn't help but smile at the gesture, shaking your head and glaring. you sipped your tea and almost gagged on it. “christ nixon! stop drowning everything in alcohol!”

“sorry! thought it would be a good pick me up!” you stood up, leaving the teacup where it sat.

“i’m going sorting third platoon.”

“alright kid. have fun.”

speirs smiled and nodded as you lit up a cigarette. you felt pride swelling up in your chest. he was proud of you. and you were proud of you too.

[lindsaylouus]

7 Swans a-Swimming 🏊‍♀️🏊‍♀️🏊‍♀️ (Monsta X - I.M)

A/N: Back to the inaccurate emojis. Can you believe there isn’t a swan? (Spoiler for the 6th day, there’s not a goose either).

Just wanna say, I love Changkyun, you love Changkyun, we ALL love Changkyun

Boxing Day is always a weird one, right?

You’ve had Christmas Day, and all the build up before it. Now, there’s this massive come down. 

But usually, you’re still super festive, refusing to let the Christmas spirit leave you and gripping onto it for dear life.

This year though, was different. You didn’t feel like holding on to that joyous nature, and Changkyun had noticed.

You sat on the park bench, staring into space. You could feel the Christmas hangover in the cool air, hear children excitedly chatter to each other about what they got the day before and see loved up couples on swan boats, sailing carefree along the river.

However, when usually you’d be filled with other people’s joy, all you could focus on was your own pain.

Ugh, brooding much? But you couldn’t help it. 

Comes to something when you’re looking at the real swans paddling away in the water, and you’re jealous of them for not having relationship problems, or no relationship at all, now.

Your boyfriend had left you on Christmas Eve. Yeah. Christmas Eve. For another girl. It was still so raw, you’d been going out for almost two years, and out of the blue this happens. Well, not exactly out of the blue.

Changkyun hadn’t heard from you in almost 24 hours, which was very out of character for you, and instantly knew something was up.

‘Y/N, what the Hell, where have you been?!’ He’d finally tracked you down, knowing you always came to the park to clear your head. 

He figured he’d find you here at some point. He even thought about heading to your house on Christmas Day, but he thought better, leaving you to spend time with your family, and him.

You looked up at your friend, and slowly turned away again. You didn’t want to talk about this with him, yet there was no one else you’d rather talk to about it.

It didn’t take a genius to work out that your best friend was not the biggest fan of your boyfriend, and never had been. It wasn’t without good reason, either. 

Not long after the two of you began dating, Changkyun and his friends invited the both of you to their New Year’s Eve party. They wanted to meet your new man, and size him up, as friends do. Especially Changkyun. He was always wary and protective whenever you started dating someone new. 

You wanted to confront him face to face while you had the chance. You loved him, but he just never seemed to approve of your choice in men. 

He was retrieving beers from the fridge before the party kicked off, just you and him in the kitchen, this was your chance.

‘You’re young and naive, Y/N,’ Changkyun had said in response to your question.

‘I’m older than you, dumbass,’ you retorted, pinching his cheek. You were forever winding each other up, ever since you met a few years ago. A chance encounter involving a shopping cart and a rather angry shopkeeper.

It’s a long story.

‘Maybe in years, Y/N, but not in mind,’ he continued, lecturing you like a rebellious teenager, ‘I’m just doing my job as a friend, and filtering out the dogs for you.’ He winked and gave you a look that screamed, you’re welcome.

‘What does that even mean?’ You pinched a beer from his arms.

‘See? Where would you be without me?’ He tried to make a get-away, but you blocked his path.

‘Why do you always talk in riddles when I ask you about this? Do you not trust me? I could really do with your support, instead of your judgement for once, Im Changkyun.’ Oh yeah, you pulled out the big guns using his full name.

Changkyun’s tongue was firmly in his cheek, before he responded.

‘It’s not you I don’t trust,’ he began, ‘and I am supporting you, by making sure you’re not being taken advantage of!’ His voice started to grow in volume.

‘Another lover’s quarrel?’ A voice said from the kitchen doorway. Kihyun had appeared behind you. ‘Why don’t you two just kiss and get it over with?’

He began to gather up a variety of covered plates to take through to the living room, as per, enough food to feed an army. Or seven hungry mouths.

‘Not you as well,’ you rolled your eyes and knocked your beer bottle on the kitchen counter, opening it.

‘So you’re the reason we have dents in this!!??’ Kihyun stopped in his tracks, extremely unimpressed by yet another small nook on ‘his’ counter. You froze, but at least it took his mind off teasing you and Changkyun.

He huffed and left the kitchen in a flurry, tutting at you both.

You giggled at each other. One thing that united you more than picking on each other, was picking on Kihyun. 

‘Changkyun, can you please, just try to be nice. Just this once, for me. I really like this guy and I don’t want to screw it up.’ You’d resorted to begging.

Changkyun saw the pleading in your eyes, ‘OK,’ he huffed, ‘but I’m doing it for you, because you asked so nicely.’ He mimicked you and swayed out of the kitchen. You wanted to both laugh at him and strangle him, all at once.

The night had been going pretty well, laughs, jokes, pleasantries, you were impressed. Especially with Changkyun, he really was trying. He’d been chatting to your boyfriend for a while now and they seemed to be getting along. Just the idea of him liking your new man, put a huge smile on your face.

If only it lasted. That same night, whatever positive thoughts you had, were eradicated.

‘I SWEAR Y/N, I wouldn’t make this up!’ Changkyun grabbed your wrist, as you tried to turn away from him.

‘ENOUGH CHANGKYUN! I don’t care what you think you heard, OK? I don’t care, I’ve literally had enough!’ You escaped his grip and stormed down the stairs.

‘Y/N, please! You have to believe me!’ He rocketed down the steps after you. Both of your voices were reaching volumes that others were noticing, including your new boyfriend.

You turned suddenly, stopping him in his tracks, your voice lowered, almost as a warning. ‘Just stop, Changkyun, please. I can’t do this with you anymore. Something always comes up, there’s always a reason. Always. I don���t want to lose you. But, I can’t do this.’

With that, you and your date left.

You couldn’t help but cry that night. You just couldn’t win. Since when did this friendship become so hard?

As time went on, you and Changkyun reconciled. You couldn’t not be in each other’s lives. You agreed to turn the other cheek, and not force Changkyun to get on with your boyfriend. In turn, he agreed not to talk about him at all when he was with you. 

Not an ideal arrangement, but it was worth it if it meant you two could just hang out.

Now you were both sat on the park bench, trying and failing to think of what to say.

‘I’m sorry, Y/N. It was a long time ago now..’ Changkyun was sat about a foot away from you, legs stretched out, hands in his lap.

‘But you were right. All that time I thought.. I don’t even know what I thought. I guess part of me always knew you were right, that he was seeing someone else. I just didn’t want to believe you.’ You sighed heavily and finally looked Changkyun in the eyes.

Those eyes. Eyes that you trusted more than anything else in the world. Even if you didn’t act like it. 

Looking back, he’d always been right. Whenever he had an inkling, a hunch or any kind of negative vibe about someone, he’d always been right. So annoying.

He let his mind wonder back to that party two years ago. He’d overheard your new boyfriend talking to another girl on his phone. Changkyun had stuck around long enough to know for sure and immediately relayed it to you.

He knew what would happen. He knew he’d been quick to judge your other dates in the past, but this was different. But he had to step back, it was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. It’d been a long couple of years. But it confirmed one thing for sure. He was completely in love with you.

Shocker.

Changkyun finally met your eyes, and neither of you looked away.

‘I’m so sorry, Changkyun,’ you meekly said, as tears were brimming in your eyes.

He quickly wrapped his arms around you, saying nothing, not needing to. He was your friend first and foremost and he wouldn’t let anything threaten that. He also knew that there was only one way to react in this situation.

‘I don’t want a lot for Christmas...’ 

Your eyes shot open, was he singing?

‘There is just one thing I neeeeeed.’

Oh Lord, he’s singing.

‘I don’t care about the presents, underneath the Christmas Treeeee.’

Why is he singing?

‘I just want you for my own, more than you could ever knowwww.’ 

He was getting progressively louder.

‘Make my wish come truuuuuuuuuuuueeee, ooooh ooo ooooh.’

He’s too into it, you’ve lost him.

‘All I want, for Christmaaass, iiiiiiiiiisssssss YOOOOOOOOUUUUU.’

You wiggled out of his grip, and before he could utter another note, your lips were on his.

Changkyun’s eyes opened, his arms were out by his sides. He couldn’t quite process what was happening. As your hands held either side of his face, he decided to just go with it. He relaxed and closed his eyes, but placed his hands on his own thighs. 

He didn’t want to kid himself that this would go further than a park bench.

To you, something about this felt right, yet so weird at the same time. I mean, this is Changkyun, your friend, the dude who sings loudly in public to make you laugh, he was your confidant, your emotional support...

Wow, he’s everything that other guys hadn’t been. Woah, serious lightbulb moment.

You broke the kiss and pulled away, but still remained close enough, that you could feel his warm breath against your face.

‘I’m so sorry Changkyun, I.. I.. I’m so freaking stupid!’ Realisation had hit you like a tonne of bricks.

‘Can I get that in writing please? Or I can record it on my phone, if that’s easier?’ The smallest of smirks appearing on his face. A face that you had forced yourself to be blind to for the last three years.

You hit him on the shoulder and he dramatically fell back on the bench, feigning injury.

You smiled for the first time in two days.

‘I don’t deserve you,’ a solemn truth in your words, hung in the air.

‘No, Y/N,’ Changkyun lifted himself up to look at you once more, ‘you deserve better than what you’ve been settling for.’

You stared at your friend, wide eyed, things continuously falling into place.

‘Ahh, I’m so cheesy,’ Changkyun giggled, there he was, forever unchanging, ‘but it’s the truth.’

‘So.. what now?’ You looked at him expectantly, everything was so up in the air.

He takes a deep breath, ‘I’ll be your friend for as long as you need me to. And, if you ever need more than that from me, I’ll be right here.’ 

You couldn’t believe how lucky you were. The friend who’d stuck by your side, who loved you, who had to sit and watch you make a complete fool of yourself for years, still wanted you.

‘But for now,’ he continued, ‘we go on one of those.’ He pointed to one of the large swan boats you’d been looking at earlier.

‘Really?’ This guy was just full of surprises today.

‘Yep, you’ve always wanted to go on one of these, but all your previous suitors were all scrooges. Not this guy. Consider it a Boxing Day gift.’

Changkyun stood up and offered his hand to you.

You take it, and don’t let go. Before walking off to the boats, you place a soft kiss on his cheek. You never felt worthy of someone like Changkyun, you didn’t think you’d be good enough for him. He was such a special guy, you felt like you had nothing to give in return.

And yet, settling for others was what could’ve torn you apart. Turns out you were the dumbass, not him.

He smiles at you again, before saying, ‘let’s not tell Kihyun about this, we’ll never hear the last of it.’

‘Agreed,’ you replied whole heatedly, good old Kihyun, reuniting you once again.

[master-sass-blast]

Questions and Answers.

*grins* It’s time.

TIME TO VALIDATE MY PARKING, HOLY SHIT!!!! I SPENT TWO WEEKS WRITING THIS FIC AND THREE DAYS EDITING IT!!! IT’S 13.6K WORDS LONG!!! I REFERENCED EVERY SINGLE OTHER FIC I’VE EVER WRITTEN FOR THE CHC IN THIS FIC AT LEAST ONCE!!!

I’m gonna toot my own horn, dammit. I worked hard on this, I know it’s good, but for the LOVE OF CHEEZITS PLEASE I WANT THE COMMENTS AND INTERNET LOVE!!!

No summary, because that would literally give everything away --but I would hope the title makes everything evident.

Rating: T for language, implied sex, mentions of sex, nudity, mentions of abuse, mentions of angst, and a literal buttload of fluff.

Set after everything that’s been written for the CHC thus far.

Special thank you to @leo-writer for proofing this for me.

Taglist: @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @super-darkcloudstudent, @girl-obsessed-with-things

Your morning alarm goes off on your phone, pulling you out of your slumber and into a brand-new day.

You flail around aimlessly, eyes squeezed shut, until you manage to find the wretched device and shut the alarm off. You sigh when the bedroom you share with Piotr falls silent once more, then roll over so you can see out the balcony windows and open your eyes.

It’s a beautiful late spring morning. The sky is a flawless shade of blue. Golden light streams through the windows –Piotr must’ve opened the curtains when he got up, since he knows it helps you wake up.

Speaking of which, Piotr’s not in bed with you. Which isn’t all that unusual, admittedly. He’s a consummate morning bird, and often takes advantage of the early hours of the day to work out, draw, handle official X-Men business, or spend time grading and working on lessons. There’s been plenty of mornings where you’ve woken up to an empty bed and a text or two on your phone, reminding you to eat breakfast and letting you know where to find him if you need him.

Except there aren’t any texts on your phone this morning.

There is, however, a large white envelope on Piotr’s nightstand, addressed to you. It’s propped against the lamp, and your name is written on it in thick, bold letters –Piotr’s handwriting, from the looks of it.

And that is unusual, because both of you know that your tendency to overlook basic details of your environment makes leaving physical notes a bad idea; texts, on the other hand, are safe because you always keep your phone on you.

So, the deviation from the norm, plus the way the card has obviously been staged to get your attention, means that Piotr is definitely up to something.

You pick up the envelope and rip it open.

Inside is a handmade card with a picture of a little forest scene on it –you’ll recognize it later as the scenery outside the sunroom in the little house Piotr stays in on his art retreats—which further confirms it as Piotr’s handiwork.

You open the card and start reading it.

Myshka,

Happy Anniversary.

You blink, then check your phone’s calendar function. Shit, how’d that happen? It was last fall, like, two seconds ago.

I wanted to do something special for you today, so I hope you will not mind that I planned scavenger hunt of sorts for you. There are several envelopes like these around the house, and they will lead you to each place on journey. (I recommend you follow in order, instead of looking at random; it might be confusing otherwise.)

You smile broadly; it’s just too damn sweet.

And completely on the nose for you, because you definitely would’ve searched the mansion at random for the cards if he hadn’t told you to go in order.

Anyway.

Unfortunately, to make sure everything runs smooth, I will not be able to join you. I will see you at end of day, when you have finished your journey. (If there is emergency, you can always reach me on my cellphone.)

All of my love to you always,

Piotr

You have to take a minute to process it all; it’s so unbelievably sweet and thoughtful and Piotr that it makes your heart ache. How did I get so fucking lucky?

You take a deep breath to calm yourself, then read the line of text at the very bottom of the card.

Hint: Most important meal of day.

You grin at the card, then bound out of bed, course set straight for the kitchen.

 ***

 There’s a plate of food waiting for you when you arrive –chocolate chip pancakes, bacon, fruit, the works.

The kitchen’s empty, but the food’s still hot. There’s no sign of anyone else around, so whoever cooked your breakfast –most likely Piotr, considering he’s not one to make others do extra work for his own ideas—must’ve started cooking at the last possible second, then booked it when they heard you coming down the stairs.

There’s also an envelope next to your plate, addressed to you in Piotr’s handwriting.

You get settled in the dining room –also conspicuously empty—with your plate, then open the envelope.

Myshka,

I think one of ways I am most blessed in our relationship is being able to eat my breakfasts with you. Whether we are talking about the future we want to have or I am taking care of you after a wild night, starting my days with you helps me put myself in proper perspective. Your positivity, resilience, and humor reminds me of what is truly important, and forces me to consider with which mindset I want to handle my day.

I have always said breakfast is most important meal of day, but I do not think that became completely true until I could spend them with you.

Love,

Piotr

You have to take a minute to collect yourself because holy shit Piotr. You feel caught off guard and overwhelmed and so unbelievably loved.

Before you can overthink it, you pick up your phone and dial your boyfriend’s number.

He answers on the second ring. “Privet.”

“You’re not allowed to make me feel soft and vulnerable like this,” you whine, making sure he can hear your smile in your voice. “You can’t just turn me into a puddle of mush with your notes and compliments, Piotr. I have a reputation of being a badass to maintain.”

He chuckles. “My sincerest apologies, moya lyubov’ –thought something tells me you are not actually complaining.”

“Not in the slightest,” you confirm with a grin. “I just… I feel bad because I don’t have anything for you. Definitely not anything like a scavenger hunt.”

“No feeling bad,” he says quickly, albeit gently. “Today is as much for me as it is for you. Trust me, I have had much enjoyment planning all of this.”

“I don’t doubt it, but it doesn’t seem fair.”

“It will be. You will see.”

You sigh. “Well, alright. You’re the world’s greatest boyfriend, you know that?”

“I do not care much for being world’s greatest boyfriend, just yours.”

“Well, you are my world.”

You hear him let out a little breath over the phone, and you know you’ve managed to touch the soft parts of his heart with your words. “Thank you, msyhka. I… I can only hope I am worthy of it.”

“You are,” you say with utter conviction. “There couldn’t be anyone worthier.”

He lets out another little breath, and you can hear his smile in his voice when he speaks again. “Thank you, myshka. Have you eaten breakfast yet?”

“Not yet. I wanted to talk to you first.”

“You should eat breakfast. It is—”

“The most important meal of the day, I know,” you finish with a grin. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“And I love you, dorogoy.”

“I’ll see you at the end of the day.”

“Khorosho.”

You hang up, then smile at your phone for a moment before setting it down so you can start in on your pancakes and consider the next hint for your scavenger hunt.

Hint: I could not hide anything from you.

This one’s a little more cryptic than the last one. You furrow your brow as you munch away at your pancakes, trying to think of what Piotr might possibly hide from you.

The trouble is, of course, that Piotr’s never hidden anything from you. Everything about him and who he is stems from his trustworthiness and honesty; his teaching, his role as a mentor, his art, his identity—

A lightbulb goes off in your head and you grin like a maniac. Of course. You chuckle to yourself, satisfied, and set the card down so you can finish eating.

You know exactly where you need to go next.

 ***

 As soon as you finish eating, you head to the library –and sure enough, there’s an envelope addressed to you waiting for you on one of the tables.

Actually, it’s on the same exact table Piotr had been sitting at when you saw him out of defense mode for the first time.

You have to take a moment to smile and appreciate his attention to detail before you rip the envelope open.

Myshka,

At risk of sounding sappy, I think of moment we shared in here often. I had waited so long for you to know how I felt –and to know if you felt anything for me—that receiving any sort of confirmation… it was great relief, to say the least.

I hope you know how much I cherish every day I have spent with you –those we have been together and those we have not—and how precious these past years have been to me.

Love,

Piotr

You can’t help but smile at the card and take a moment to sit back in one of the chairs. I’m gonna die from a sweetness overload today, you realize. I’m gonna read one of Piotr’s notes and just keel over from how sweet and kind and thoughtful it all is.

There’s no better way to go, in your opinion.

You take a deep breath, do your best to calm down, then pick up the card again so you can read the hint.

Hint: you may want to get dressed for the day.

It says something about Piotr that he knows you well enough to know you’re still in your pajamas.

You chuckle to yourself and head back to your room.

***

 Illyana’s waiting for you, sitting in Piotr’s desk chair when you walk in.

You blink, shocked. “What… how…” You stare at her, synapses short-circuiting as you try to figure out just how she’s here and why she’s not in Russia. “…Hi.”

She smiles. “Hello.” She holds up a white envelope with your name on it. “I was told to give this to you.”

Which is automatically suspicious –not because you think she’s lying, but because Piotr isn’t the type to have other people do his work for him.

And if he has his family here, that means he’s got something big planned.

“Uh, yeah,” you finally say. You gesture with the other cards –you’ve stuck them back in their envelopes for the time being—that you’ve been carrying with you. “He’s been doing that today.”

“That he has.” She stands, hugs you briefly, then hands her envelope to you. “Happy Anniversary.”

You stare after her as she leaves, then close the door before opening the envelope.

Myshka,

One of the things I appreciate most about you is your impish nature.

You stop reading and roll your eyes –while smirking, albeit—because of course he’s bringing that up, of course.

Whether it is goading me into spending more “quality time” with you when lights have gone out, playing in corn mazes, coming up with fun ideas for all to participate in, embracing your inner child, or getting back at Wade, your zest for life and good times never cease to leave me amazed. You help me appreciate the moment instead of worrying about the future (even though it gets me into trouble some times). I will forever appreciate the lessons you have taught me about living life to fullest and appreciating those around you.

Love,

Piotr

You’re misty-eyed; granted you wouldn’t call it “goading” or “getting into trouble,” but you’re genuinely touched by his reflection on your personality and what he appreciates about it –and has learned from it, which is going to take some time for you to wrap your head around.

You press the card against your heart for a moment, silently appreciating your wonderful, sweet mush of a man, before holding it out again so you can look at the next hint.

Hint: Go to the place where it all became official.

You frown. What the hell does that mean?

There’s a lot of places that have “official” meanings to them since you’ve gotten into a relationship with Piotr –hell, since you first came to the Institute.

Okay, think. This is your anniversary. It’s going to be a place where some sort of specific milestone happened.

That, admittedly, does narrow down the field of options –but not by much.

You chew on your lower lip as you mentally wade through various possibilities. Okay, this is Piotr we’re talking about. It’s going to be from his perspective. What goes into making something official, if you’re Piotr?

Your brain immediately jumps to communication. Piotr’s a stickler for good communication; he likes making sure that everyone understands what’s going on, that everyone’s had a chance to give their say in a situation, to express their feelings, to agree or disagree…

Okay, so understanding the situation, giving your say, expressing feelings, agreeing and disagreeing, in the context of our relationship “being official…”

You almost gasp out loud when it hits you.

 ***

 After you get dressed, you head out to the property behind the mansion.

Specifically, to the tree that you and Piotr had sat under, later on the same day that you’d seen him out of defense mode for the first time; it’s the spot where he’d confessed his feelings to you, and it’s the spot where you two agreed to be in a relationship.

Official.

You step around the tree to where the bench still sits –and nearly fall flat on your ass when you see your uncle sitting there.

He grins up at you. “Hey, punk.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” You wrap your arms around him as soon as he stands, then poke him in the ribs when he laughs. “Be nice! I had no idea you were coming! Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s cool,” he says as he lets you go. “Just thought I’d drop by for a quick visit.” He pulls a white envelope with your name on it out of his pocket and hands it to you. “Your guy asked me to give this to you.”

You narrow your eyes at the envelope, then squint up at your uncle. “What the hell is going on?”

“I’m giving you an envelope.”

“No shit. I meant –why? Why are you here? Are you …in on whatever’s going on?”

“Because that’s how it works.” He smirks and ruffles your hair. “Happy Anniversary, punk.”

You stare after him as he strides off towards the house, then sit down on the bench and open the envelope.

Myshka,

I think this is one of my most favorite memories with you. Though I cherish every single memory I have with you, this is one I return to whenever I feel sad or lost. I am not sure if there is good explanation for why. I suppose, to me, knowing my feelings were reciprocated is what started this long and wonderful journey of sharing life with you.

Or, perhaps, reason why I reminisce does not matter. I know I love you, and you love me. That is enough.

Love,

Piotr

You can’t help but smile; the confession under this very tree is one of your favorite memories, too.

Hint: Go back to our bedroom.

You frown. You’ve already been to the bedroom once; it seems weird that you’d backtrack your steps –but, then, you aren’t the one in charge of setting up this scavenger hunt.

You slide the card back into the envelope, jam it into your pocket with the others, and take off across the back lawn.

***

 The changes are immediately noticeable as soon as you step over the threshold to yours and Piotr’s bedroom.

First, the bed is made; you’d forgotten to do it after you’d gotten dressed.

Second, your pajamas are in the clothes hamper, instead of on the floor.

Piotr’s been here, you realize. He’s still at the house.

Something about the thought of your boyfriend sneaking around the mansion to avoid being spotted by you and watching you follow his trail of clues makes you smile.

There’s an envelope with your name on it on top of your pillow.

It’s considerably larger than the other ones, almost stuffed to the point of being unable to close.

You open the envelope –which doesn’t take much effort, considering it’s about ready to pop on its own—and withdraw several sheets of paper.

Myshka,

I like to think of our room as our little sanctuary. Sometimes, in a house full of other people, it is easy to feel that you have no privacy, or to feel overwhelmed by everyone else. However, when I step into our room, I feel at home.

You feel the same way.

We have shared so many memories in our room, yes? Your first Halloween (and you telling me you wanted to marry me), taking care of each other when ill, comforting each other from nightmares, even just moving into together; there are so many memories, it is hard to count them all.

Sometimes, when I cannot sleep, I wind up watching you rest while I contemplate our life together until I can rest as well. I do think myself blessed for every moment I get to spend with you, but remembering such nights brings me a unique sense of peace and steadiness.

Granted, not all memories we have here are… pleasant ones. I think it pointless to pretend that our relationship has not come with struggles; every relationship has difficulties, and while memories of fights we had do not bring me joy, I will confess I do not feel any particular shame about them (aside from what my own behavior and actions contributed, of course).

We have had to learn a lot about each other and how to work together –or how to work with each of our family’s… unique circumstances. I know I have –from learning about your uncle (and struggles leading up to that moment), to arguments about responsibilities, to learning to not let my fear control me as it relates to you, or even in moments when you worried nothing would change or you were caught in an internal spiral, I know for certain that my relationship with you would look entirely different if we had not faced those moments together.

Is it wrong of me to say that I do not regret having to face those struggles (aside from what my own behavior contributed)? I would never say they were pleasant, but I know you so much better and deeper from having gone through them –to say nothing of myself; you have challenged me to be better person –whether it relates to myself, my family, you, or others—countless times that I honestly feel that I am better person for having gone through all of it. If had to chose between facing those hardships or never facing them at all… I would still choose to face them, even knowing consequences they bring.

I am more grateful than words can say for knowing you and having known you. I would not be man I am today without you.

All my love,

Piotr

You’re crying –and you’re grateful that you opted to not put on makeup when you got dressed, because it all would’ve been ruined after reading that letter.

You can barely fathom that Piotr is grateful for all the hell the two of you have gone through together; you know he’s not lying to you, that if he says he feels that way, he does, but…

It’s rare enough to find people who stick with you through the good times and the bad, but to find someone who appreciates the bad times and struggles because they were able to learn about you and themselves?

You dial Piotr’s number before you really even realize what you’re doing.

“Privet.”

“You know you’re the single best human on the planet, right?”

He catches on quick to the fact that you’re crying. “Myshka, is everything alright? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just my heart’s in pieces after reading that letter,” you say with a laugh as you try to dry off your cheeks. “I just… I just wanted to let you know that I feel the same way. I wouldn’t trade the struggles we’ve had to go through, either. Some of it sucked, but… it’s worth it. And I feel like I know you a lot better for having gone through all of it, too.”

He goes quiet for a moment, then sucks in a shaky breath that tells you that he’s tearing up, too. “I love you very much, Y/N.”

You sniff and continue the –largely unsuccessful—process of trying to dry your face. “I love you too, Piotr.”

“Are you okay? Do you need me to come see you?”

“I’m alright,” you reassure him, smiling. “I just wanted to let you know how I felt. And to say thank you for sticking with me through everything.”

“You do not need to thank me,” he says, “though I am equally grateful for your staying with me.”

“Quite the impasse, huh.”

He chuckles. “Da. Very.”

You chuckle with him. “Alright, I’m gonna check the hint and figure out where I need to go next.”

“Khorosho. Call me if you need anything.”

“I will. I love you, Piotr.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

You hang up after saying good-bye, then reach over to your nightstand for some tissues. You blow your nose, dry your face, then scan the bottom of the last page for the hint.

Hint: Go to the place where future finally started.

You sigh as you stare down at the line of text. What the fuck? Okay, okay, think like Piotr. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Protein bars. Four or five moments. Language, please.

You snicker to yourself, amused, then buckle down on figuring out what the hint means.

The phrase “finally started” seems to imply some sort of beginning –maybe a milestone or goal of sorts—that couldn’t –or wouldn’t—get going for some sort of reason. So, a milestone or goal in your relationship that was a frustratingly long time coming… a location attached to said milestone or goal…

You nearly smack yourself upside the head when it hits you. Of course.

 ***

 Admittedly, you’re not as sure of your guess on this hint as you are the other ones –but this is Piotr you’re dealing with, the antithesis of “pulling a fast one” if ever there was one.

Which is how you find yourself quietly padding through the medical wing at the mansion, counting off the rooms there until you find the right spot –the room where you’d gotten your diagnosis after the whole ordeal of getting hit in the head with Mikhail’s energy burst and recovering the repressed memories.

It’s empty –which is fortunate in multiple senses—save for one very blue, very furry Doctor Hank McCoy.

He looks up at you and smiles when you knock on the doorframe. “Y/N.” He picks up a white envelope with your name on it and holds it out to you. “I’ve been told it’s yours and Colossus’s anniversary.”

“It is,” you say as you accept the envelope. You gesture with your other hand, which is holding all the other envelopes you’ve collected. “He’s been sending me on a scavenger hunt.”

“Well, good luck and happy anniversary.” He pauses at the door as he heads out. “One of the healers will let you know if we need this room.”

And just like that, he’s gone.

You sit on the edge of the bed –there’s not really anywhere else to sit—and rip the envelope open.

Myshka,

It struck me that several points of our relationship have happened in medical wing. Between injuries from missions, other incidents, and aspects of your recovery, we have spent a great deal of time here.

I will admit now that I hope we do not continue this trend in the future.

You snort.

I know diagnosis was long time coming, and that we talked much about what it meant for our future, together and as individuals. However, I hope you know that my end-goal in our relationship has always been your –and, by proxy, our—well-being. I have always truly been happy to be your partner, whatever that looks like, regardless of whether you found diagnosis or not.

You smile softly and press your hand against your heart. I’ve always known, baby.

All that said, I am very happy you were able to find diagnosis –not just for what it means for our future, but for you as well. You are happier and more confident now that you are receiving best treatment, and I love you more every day as I watch you heal and grow into best version of yourself.

I love you and all your versions. Always.

Love,

Piotr

You have to wipe a few tears away from your eyes by the time you’re done reading the card. He’s such a mush. My mush.

It’s borderline staggering to think about how far you’ve come over the past few years. You went from being a kid trapped in their room to being an adult woman in charge of her own life and future –one who kicks a lot of ass, at that. You have friends, a family, colleagues, a job, a partner…

You’ve come a long way; you’ve got a lot to be proud of.

You smile to yourself for a moment, then scan the bottom of the card for the next hint.

Hint: go to gazebo.

You smirk. Well, at least this one’s easier to figure out than the last one.

***

 There’s a little white gazebo towards the far reaches of Xavier’s property. It’s a popular spot for teenaged residents to hook up at –and also a spot that you and Piotr have shared a couple picnics at. You know he likes to draw there –there’s some good views of various trees and flowers from the benches in the gazebo—so it’s not surprising that he would’ve tacked it on the list of “places to have Y/N go on during scavenger hunt.”

What is surprising, however, is that Mikhail’s sitting on one of the benches when you walk in.

He greets you with a slight smile and gestures with a white envelope. “I was told to wait here.”

“When did he tell you to wait here?” you ask with a short laugh.

“Earlier than necessary.” Mikhail hands off the card with a rueful chuckle. “I am supposed to say ‘happy anniversary’ also.”

“How many times did he remind you to say it?”

“Seven.”

You make a noise that’s somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “Well, I mean, it worked. You didn’t forget.”

Mikhail grunts. “I think I will not forget for next fifty years.”

“Sorry.”

He shrugs. “Could be worse. Anyway, I leave you to it.” He gives you a little wave, then promptly teleports away.

You shake your head –you’re still not used to that—then sit on one of the benches and open the envelope.

Myshka,

I know we have not shared many moments here, but there were two in particular that held enough significance that I felt need to include this spot on your little journey today.

You frown at the card for a minute until the “specific moments” he’s referring to hit you. Shit.

The aftermath of your nasty encounter with Dwight and the aftermath of the incident during the end of year school trip. Not exactly easy things to forget.

I know they are not pleasant memories, but to me they are important because when I was at my lowest moment, you were there to keep me from falling. You helped me find my sense of self and resolution to whatever internal conflict I was feeling; there are no words to describe just how grateful I am for that.

I think the reasons these memories stand out so strong to me is because I know you feel… you feel like do not bring your own merit to our relationship. That all I do is take care of you.

I just want you to know that you help me as much as you say I help you. You have helped and supported me so much in these past years, even if you do not see it. I hope one day you can see yourself how I see you: strong, confident, beautiful woman, with heart whose size is only rivaled by her spirit.

Love,

Piotr

You’re back to feeling overwhelmed and soft and so loved all over again.

You’ll never understand how you got so lucky; you’ve always felt so raw and feral around most of the X-Men, all sharp and rough edges and a little wild behind the eyes. Compared them, you’re a broken heap of junk, battered and fragile from years of abuse and mistreatment.

And then the sweetest, kindest, gentlest, most decent man that ever existed came along and saw a person worth loving instead of a junk heap.

You’re not entirely sure whether that makes you a person worth loving or a junk heap, at the end of all of it. Your self-esteem has improved by miles since arriving at Xavier’s –more so since starting therapy—but there are still days where you can’t look yourself in the mirror for fear of what you might see.

But Piotr is honest, in words and actions. If he refuses to put faith in a person –or even consider putting faith in a person—then that person has to be the most despicable, unredeemable piece of shit to have ever walked the face of the earth.

And if he loves you…

You have to step back from that train of thought before you get too overwhelmed and focus instead on what the next hint says.

Hint: go to chair outside Alyssa’s office.

You frown. It’s not hard to see why he would include a location in reference to your being in therapy; it’s been integral to your recovery –to say nothing of your relationship with Piotr—but he’s always so conscientious about keeping the boundaries between therapist and patient clear. You can’t imagine that he would ask Alyssa to hold onto an envelope for you…

Well, except the hint says the chair outside her office. Not Alyssa herself.

You get up off the bench with a grunt and head towards the house.

***

 There’s no envelope propped in the chair when you reach the area where the handful of counselors’ offices are housed.

For a moment, you panic that someone’s taken it –but Piotr’s more careful than that. He would’ve considered that this area of the mansion is open to multiple residents, and that placing a random envelope on the chair would leave it liable to be taken or get lost.

You slide your hands between the frame of the chair and the cushion, then underneath the cushion itself.

Nothing.

You frown. Where the hell is it? Did someone pick it up for me? Or throw it away?

You’re half-tempted to call him and ask him where he put it, but the stubborn part of you wants to figure this out all by yourself.

Okay, Y/N, think. If I were Piotr, and I was trying to leave a note where only one person would find it in an open space, where would I put it?

There’s not an obvious answer. Piotr is the antithesis of being secretive; even when he’s trying to surprise you, it’s still pretty easy to get at what he’s doing most of the time.

Okay, you tell yourself. His mom is in the mafia, formerly an assassin. Some of that has to have rubbed off on him –least of all knowing how to hide something.

But that doesn’t yield any fruitful answers either. The inner workings of an assassin are ultimately a mystery to you –intriguing, but not something you can identify with.

You almost give up before it hits you. I’m thinking about this the wrong way.

Today is about your relationship with him. If Piotr’s hiding something for you to find, then he’ll have hidden it in a place he knows you’ll look.

Okay. If I was going to hide a letter on a chair, where would I put it?

That’s an easy answer: you’d tape it to the underside of the chair.

You crouch down on all fours and peer under the chair –and, sure enough, there’s a white envelope with your name on it taped to the underside of the seat.

You pry it free, then retreat down the hall from the counseling offices until you feel like you’re a respectable enough distance from the space to read the next note.

Myshka,

I did not want to make it through today without mentioning your journey with therapy. I know it was scary for you at first, and watching you grow more comfortable with it and face down your problems leaves me so proud and inspired every day.

I also appreciate when you bring the knowledge you learn from your sessions into our relationship. I enjoy learning from you, and being able to grow with you is greatest privilege.

Love,

Piotr

You smile and sigh happily, feeling warm and loved from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. You text Piotr a slew of heart emojis –and grin when he texts several back to you—before moving on to the next hint.

Hint: we got busted here.

Why can’t they all be “go to this place?” you ponder as you puzzle over the cryptic line of text. Why do I keep having to work for everything?

Truly, life’s greatest mystery.

Well, fortunately, there’s some strict limits to what “busted” could be. Piotr’s pretty strict about following the rules, and since it says “we,” that means you both crossed some sort of line.

You flip through your mental rolodex of times you managed to convince Piotr to break some sort of rule. What could it be?

You outright guffaw when it hits you, then take off for the jet hangar.

 ***

 It takes a couple tries –the X-Men have more than one jet, because apparently Charles has untold troves of wealth—but eventually you find an envelope addressed to you in one of the cockpit seats.

You smirk and take a moment to savor the memory –the one time you’d managed to convince Piotr to fuck you on a flight back from a mission—before opening the envelope.

Myshka,

I admit I still do not understand your desire to have sex in public spaces –though it does keep you quiet, so perhaps there is some benefit after all.

Your jaw drops. You have to reread the first line twice to be sure of what you’ve just read, then let out a shocked laugh as you dig your phone out of your pocket. “You little shit,” you say when Piotr picks up. “I’m sitting in the X-Jet –Piotr, you’re such a little shit—”

He bursts out laughing on the other end of the line, evidently immensely pleased with himself. “I mean, I am not wrong.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re so fucking clever,” you continue, grinning broadly. “I am gonna get you back so hard. You have no idea. You’re in for it, buster.”

He chuckles. “Have you read rest of note yet?”

“No. I was too shocked by your opening. I had to call you.”

“Evidently.”

You can practically hear the smug smile in his voice; you roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Vengeance is coming, Piotr. I will find a way to get you back.”

“Of that, I am certain.” He chuckles again. “I love you, myshka.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“I do not doubt it.”

You say good-bye, then hang up and finish reading the note.

Obviously, there is more to our relationship than intimacy –nor do I think intimacy as most important thing. However, I do appreciate intimacy I have with you. Aside from obvious payoffs, I appreciate the trust you place in me. I believe there is something inherently vulnerable in sex, and the fact that you are willing to share that vulnerability with me says I am doing something right, in my mind.

Even if you want to be vulnerable in… strange places.

Love,

Piotr

You can’t help but roll your eyes, but it is sweet. You do feel touched. “Honestly, it’s not that weird, Piotr. You’re the weird one.”

Whatever. He’s the weird one. Not you.

Hint: We celebrated an anniversary and Valentine’s Day here, and planned our first date here.

You grin, then dart out of the jet and in the direction of Piotr’s art studio.

***

 It’s not something you say often, but you love Piotr’s art studio. It’s quiet, it’s calm, and it’s so full of color and light and life that it’s impossible to not love.

But it’s more than that. Anyone who knows Piotr would know that his art studio is almost a direct look inside his brain. The way he organizes his pencils by hardness, color family, and purpose in little jars on the bookshelf next to his easel. The way he keeps his paints similarly stored, but in a drawer so they don’t get overexposed to heat. The way he keeps a few miscellaneous pencils and pens in a jar directly next to his easel, always within reach if he needs to start a new project.

Attention to detail. Making sure the space is functional, both for him and for the needs of his equipment.

It’s how he keeps his favorite, final pieces hung on the walls in perfect rows, right next to the pictures his students have drawn for him. How his regular desk is veritably stained with different colors and nearly overflows with supplies –they’re all organized, it’s more of a quantity thing—because he uses an angled desk for all his serious drawing so he doesn’t strain his back or arm.

He’s meticulous, yes, but that doesn’t detract from the fact that he’s truly passionate about his art.

It’s the fact that he has three wastebaskets for the room –one right next to his drawing desk, for pencil shavings or scrapped concepts, one next to the regular desk for random trash, and a larger one tucked in the corner for paint rags and drop cloths that need to be washed.

He’s practical –and a little anal at times, if you’re being honest.

You love him so much.

Ellie, Russell, and Yukio are all waiting for you in the art studio when you walk in. Ellie has a white envelope, Yukio has your purse, and Russell’s playing some sort of game on his phone for the two girls to watch while they wait for you.

Yukio beams as soon as you walk through the door. “Happy Anniversary!”

“Thanks.” You nod at your purse with a grin. “I take it I’m gonna be needing that?”

“Yup,” Russell confirms, popping the ‘p’ as he stows his phone away. “It’s already got everything you need.”

“Thanks, guys. I don’t suppose you know what’s going on at the end of the scavenger hunt?”

The three of them exchange a look, then all attempt to smother smiles with varying degrees of success –or lack thereof.

Ellie does the best job at it, unsurprisingly. She just stands and hands you the note. “Obviously.”

“Figured as much. I guess you’re not gonna tell me.”

“Nope.” She latches onto Yukio’s hand once her bubbly counterpart passes off your purse and heads out the door. “Happy Anniversary.”

“Happy Anniversary,” Russell chimes in, closing the door behind him.

You huff out a little laugh and shake your head, then sit down in the armchair Piotr keeps in his studio before tearing the envelope open.

Myshka,

This studio has seen many important memories; I think among my favorites are celebrating our anniversary here (the effort you went to still amazes me to this day), making costumes for your first Halloween, and planning our first date here.

It is not something I ever mentioned, but I was deeply excited to take you on our first date. I had known by then that I loved you deeply, so much so that it was difficult to take things slow –not that it was any hardship to me. I knew even before we got together that you would need time to heal and come into your own, and every single minute it has taken has been worth it to know you are happier and healthier.

What I mean to say is that I knew from beginning that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. I knew from that date that there would never be anyone who compared to you or made me feel the way you did. Every single day with you is precious to me, more than you could ever know.

Happy Anniversary, my love. May we have many more.

Love,

Piotr

You sigh deeply and smile at the note, then dig your phone out of your pocket.

You: Every day with you is precious to me, too. I hope we have many more anniversaries in the years to come.

Babe: <3

You pocket your phone again, then flop back in the chair.

You wish that he would spend the day with you. This is your anniversary after all, and it only seems fitting that any activities or celebrations should include the two of you.

But he did say that he’d see you at the end of the day. And you know he’s still at the mansion –or that he’s been popping out for stuff and coming back.

You check your purse on a whim.

Your sunglasses are tucked inside, as is your wallet, chapstick, a little pack of tissues… and your car keys.

You check the bottom of the card for the next hint.

Hint: go to car.

You’re leaving the house, then, which implies that he needs you out and very distracted for a while; he’s definitely planning something big.

He brought his family and my uncle in, you think, chewing on your lower lip. He’s getting me out of the house. It’s our anniversary. Is he…

You tamp down the hope brewing in your chest before it can manifest into a full thought. You don’t want to start obsessing over anything, especially if it turns out your guessed wrong.

But it could…

You tuck the thought away before it can go anywhere, instead focusing on tucking all the envelopes into your purse. You extract your car keys and sunglasses –in hindsight, you should’ve done that before you put the envelopes in there—then head out to the garage.

 ***

 Sure enough, there’s an envelope waiting for you in the driver’s seat of your car –you almost sit on it by accident, but that’s neither here nor there.

Myshka,

I know we have not had many opportunities to travel together, but you are my favorite co-pilot.

Unless you drink Red Bull.

You really should not drink Red Bull. It is not healthy. It does not even taste good.

Love,

Piotr

Hint: Last stop on our first date.

Well, that’s plenty easy to figure out.

You make to the put the card and envelope in the purse with the others, but stop when you notice a tiny note on the other side of the envelope.

First date, car.

You blink. What the… oh.

It’s a reminder, a little note to help him remember what the hint was about and where the card needed to be placed.

It’s definitely very Piotr, because you would’ve forgotten to do anything like that if you’d been in charge of all this.

You snort and shake your head, then stick your key in the car’s ignition. Alright, I’ll need to fuel up—

Except your gas tank is already full –and your oil’s been changed, which you’ve been meaning to do for… well, you’ve been meaning to do it.

You: Did you fill up my tank?

You: And change my oil?

Babe: Oil light was on for seven months. It needed to be done.

You grin; he’s just the sweetest.

You: <3 Aw thanks

Babe: Of course. <3

You: Wait did I really forget for that long?

Babe: Yes.

You wince. You could’ve sworn the oil light only came on… maybe a few weeks ago?

You: Shit.

You consider leaving it there, but you can’t resist the opportunity to rib him a little bit.

You: Also, vegetables don’t taste good either.

You: Just saying.

You grin when he sends back a laughing-face emoji, then put your phone back in your purse and drive out of the garage.

***

 The little spot –technically it’s just the historical part of a larger city, renovated and restored to be a tourist spot—that Piotr took you to for your first date has been a frequent fixture of your dates since then. It’s quiet, it’s beautiful, and there’s plenty do to there regardless of the time of year.

You stroll through the park that leads into the area with all the shops, admiring the greening trees and scads of flowers. It’s still the bare beginning of summer, meaning that everything’s still growing and coming back to life –and that it isn’t unbearably hot, which is always a win.

You do make a beeline towards the chocolate shop Piotr had taken you to at the end of your first date once you reach the street, though. It’s almost noon, you’re hungry, and chocolate strawberries sound like the perfect pick-me-up. You’re a woman on a mission, and nothing is going to stop you—

Except Neena is waiting for you outside the shop, eating chocolate covered cherries out of a paper bag and looking cooler than everyone else in a two-mile radius.

Which, admittedly, is worth at least pausing for.

She grins when you walk up to her and pulls you into a hug. “Hey! Happy Anniversary!”

“Thank you! And hey yourself!” You raise an eyebrow at her when you step back. “I’m guessing you have an envelope for me?”

“Yup!” She pulls an envelope out of her purse and hands it to you. “Have you been enjoying the scavenger hunt so far?”

“I have!” You smile softly as you run your fingers along the top edge of the envelope. “It’s kind of like taking a walk down our relationship’s memory lane.”

“That’s awesome.” She pops another chocolate covered cherry into her mouth, then straightens up and stretches. “Well, I need to get on the road. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Alright.” You exchange hugs once more, then watch her go, replaying her words over in your head.

“I’ll see you later, okay?”

Which seems to imply that Neena might be around at the end of the scavenger hunt, whatever that is. And that, combined with the fact that your uncle and his family is here…

Your stomach growls, jolting you from your reverie. Right. Food. Specifically chocolate covered strawberries.

Piotr texts you after you’ve made your purchase and are on your way out of the shop.

Babe: Do not just eat chocolate for meal.

You snort –but you can’t pretend to be offended, considering that had been your whole plan.

You: Fine.

You: But only for you.

Babe: <3

You swing by the sandwich shop that he’d taken you to for your first date; you get a sandwich and a drink to go, then walk back through the park.

And then you see the bench the two of you had sat on after stopping at the chocolate shop, and –well—it just seems too perfect.

You send a picture of your sandwich to Piotr.

You: Proof that I got real food.

You: Also I’m sitting on the bench we sat on at the end of our first date. :)

You: I just wish you were here with me.

Babe: I am very happy you have real food.

Babe: I wish I was with you also.

Babe: We will see each other later. I promise.

You tuck your phone back in your purse, then tuck into your sandwich.

It’s a little weird being out of the house without Piotr –or someone else, at least. Given your track record for getting kidnapped –not that it was your prerogative to get kidnapped—or into general trouble, you rarely leave Xavier’s; if you do, it’s always with someone, if only to make sure you aren’t being stalked or aren’t in danger.

But this is an area Piotr knows well; it’s as safe a place for you to be as anywhere else, all things considered.

That, and he probably figured you would’ve been pissed off if he’d assigned you a babysitter for the day.

Which, admittedly, you would’ve been.

Besides, there isn’t even a modicum of suspicious activity in the park today. Kids are playing on the playground, parents are watching from nearby, the odd jogger or dog walker are strolling along the walking paths. It’s completely normal.

You’re also sitting at a highly visible point that isn’t easy to sneak up on, and have the ferocity of the average badger. That, and I can just stomp anyone who tries to mess with me. No way in hell I’m getting kidnapped on my anniversary. No way, no how, no doing.

You take a deep breath and focus on your environment for a moment to bring yourself back to the present. You’re safe, and you’ve done everything you need to do to stay safe. No need to obsess on it to the point of freaking yourself out.

You tie into the strawberries once you finish your sandwich –Piotr’s habit of “saving treats for later” still hasn’t rubbed off on you—then wipe your hands on a napkin when you’re all said and done before opening the envelope.

Myshka,

It goes without saying, but I truly enjoy our date time. Whether we are going out to for day or staying in to watch movies, any time I can spend with you is wonderful.

I truly value your companionship. You make my days brighter, regardless of what happens. I am looking forward to spending many bright days with you in years to come.

Love,

Piotr

You smile down at the card –despite the fact that the passersby probably think you look a little nuts—and sigh happily.

You love him. You love him so much it hurts.

Hint: You were impressed when I took you here for dinner.

You chuckle to yourself and toss your lunch trash in a nearby trashcan before heading to your car. Yes, darling, I was very impressed.

***

 The drive out to Grant’s restaurant takes a decent chunk of time; it’s mid-afternoon by the time you arrive, and you haven’t managed to figure out who you’re supposed to meet between leaving the place where you’d gone on your first ever date and arriving at the restaurant.

You know Grant is an old friend of Piotr’s, and it makes sense that he might want his friend involved in today in some way, shape, or form; you, however, don’t know Grant all that well. Everyone that you’ve gotten envelopes from today have been people you’ve known for a long time or Piotr’s direct family.

That, and you can’t see Piotr asking Grant to help while the restaurant was open. Your boyfriend’s courteous to a fault at times, and you know he wouldn’t want to throw a wrench into Grant’s workday –especially if something went wrong or you got caught in traffic.

You suppose it might be possible that Piotr would leave the envelope with a hostess, but that seems to contradict the whole “using people we both know” things—

And then Nikolai and Alexandra get out of their car the same time you get out of yours, which completely answers any questions about what the fuck you’re supposed to be doing right now.

“Hi!” You exchange hugs with Alex, then Nikolai. “I didn’t realize you two were in town as well!”

“Surprise visit,” Nikolai says with a smile. “We were told to keep secret.”

You raise an eyebrow; that only confirms that your boyfriend is up to something, and that he’s got some sort of surprise waiting for you when you finally head back home, whenever that is. “Do you two know what’s going on?”

“Of course,” Alex says with a grin. “Medvezhonok sent us here for lunch date.”

You can’t help but smile. Sweet and thoughtful in everything he does.

“Oh.” She withdraws an envelope from her purse. “And to give you this.”

“Yeah.” You open your own purse and show off your growing collection. “I’ve been getting several of those today. Am I close to the end of the hunt?”

Alexandra smirks and shrugs, while Nikolai makes a bigger show of not knowing the answer.

“Alright. I get it. That’s for you to know and for me to find out.”

Alexandra chuckles. “Basically.”

“Well, I hope you have a good lunch date. The food here is amazing –oh, and Piotr did the artwork here for his friend. You’ll be able to see it in the dining room.”

Both of the Rasputin parents express their delight over the new knowledge before exchanging hugs and goodbyes with you and heading inside.

You opt to head back to your car and open the envelope as you plop down into the driver’s seat.

Myshka,

I admit that it took me time to adjust to your not liking being spoiled –at least, not with overly grand gestures. Perhaps I am dated, but I do believe that it is man’s duty to spoil woman he loves. Which, of course, is not to say that women cannot spoil their partners, or that gestures of affection should not be mutual effort. However, after watching my father love and take care of my mother growing up, I knew that his behavior –generosity, romantic, unabashed kindness—was something I wanted to emulate; I like to think it has not led me wrong.

And though I am sensible –as you so often call me—I do like charm and romance of grand gestures. I enjoy planning and anticipation that goes into such things. I enjoy watching your face light up when you realize what I’ve done. I am happy to tailor my ideas to your comfort and preferences, but I do appreciate when you let me “pull out all stops,” as it were.

At any rate, I hope you will not spend today worrying over whether you have done enough for me. My pleasure today truly comes from watching you be happy… and possibly later, if I know you as well as I think I do.

Love,

Piotr

You snort and pull your phone out of your purse.

You: You’re definitely right about later. ;)

Piotr: I will keep that in mind. ;)

You chuckle and shake your head as you put your phone away, then sit back in the driver’s seat to think for a minute.

He’s right that you’re not one for grand gestures. There’s something about over-the-top dates or lavish gesture that just… make you feel like collapsing in on yourself until you disappear from view.

Well, that’s not completely right. You don’t mind doting on Piotr. It’s being doted on that makes you feel uneasy.

If you were to guess, you would say that a lifetime of feeling like you weren’t worth anything and always feeling subpar in the eyes of everyone probably damaged your self-esteem to the point where any sort of gesture –romantic or otherwise—made you feel uneasy and unworthy, and that the grander the gesture, the more you feel convinced that the person doing it will realize that you’re not worth it and abandon you, and… ah, shit.

You take a deep breath and make a note on your phone to talk to Alyssa about it in your session, then do some meditation to calm yourself down. Existential revelations can wait, dammit; today is your day to be happy.

You open your eyes once you’re feeling calm and positive again, then check the card for the next hint.

Hint: Not best day we had, but I still appreciated my time with you here.

You frown and start racking your brain. Does he mean personal? Did we go on a date that ended badly?

That’s what makes the most sense, considering that the scavenger hunt clues have all tied into your relationship or locations that feature heavily in your relationship –but you and Piotr haven’t really had any bad dates. The only one that stands out is…

Is the movie date where you were both kidnapped and taken to Dwight’s lair.

It’s possible, but something doesn’t feel right about it. You know that event was deeply, deeply scarring for Piotr. You seriously doubt that he’d take you back to the theatre where you were both taken; that, and the card said “day,” which implies that the bad event was limited to a single day. The two of you had been in Dwight’s clutches longer than that, which would further rule it out.

You spend several minutes racking for your brain, but the movie-date-turned-kidnapping is the only bad date you can think of. You can’t even remember a date where the two of you had a fight or an argument; you tend to keep things contained to the mansion, specifically your shared bedroom so you don’t upset any of the other residents. Any time the two of you get to spend alone together is sacrosanct, and you’re both careful to keep it that way.

When you don’t come up with something after a few more minutes of fruitless pondering, you give in and call Piotr.

“Privet.”

“Babe, I can’t figure out the most recent clue. I’m trying to think of any bad dates we’ve had, but all I can think of is the movie date where we got kidnapped by Dwight’s goons?” you explain. “Am I forgetting another really bad date we went on, or is that what you meant?”

“Nyet, nyet, nyet,” Piotr exclaims quickly –which was the response you expected. “Absolutely not. No, I meant beach. Where we took kids, and residents disliked my being Russian.”

“Oh! Duh.” You can’t help but laugh. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.”

“I think it was hint. I worded it poorly. I was considering making it ‘you dropped me in water here,’ but I was not sure if you knew what I meant…”

“No, I would’ve guessed that right away,” you say when his voice trails off, grinning impishly. “I can remember all the times I punked you, big guy.”

“Impressive, considering you do it so often.”

You cackle. “Hey! I’m not that bad!

“Konechno net. You are model resident.”

“Exactly. I never break the rules.”

“…”

“I don’t hear you agreeing, baby.”

“Lying is unethical, myshka.”

You laugh along with him. “Very funny.”

“I try.”

“And you succeed.” You stretch your back, then jam the envelope and card in your purse along with the others. “Alright, I’m gonna get going. I love you, Piotr.”

“And I love you, Y/N.”

You hang up, then start your car and pull out of the parking lot outside Grant’s restaurant.

You’ve got a lot of driving ahead of you.

***

 You reach the beach a couple hours later –you have to stop and refuel along the way, which adds a little time to your trip.

You inhale deeply as you step out of the car. The smell of salt in the air is strong, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore is deeply soothing.

You take a minute to lean against the hood of your car, enjoying the breeze and the scenery. So far, everyone you’ve need to meet up with has found you or been in plain sight. You can afford to take a minute to relax and stretch your legs.

And sure, enough, you don’t have to wait long to figure out who you need to talk to next. Before you can start to wonder if you should get up and look around, you spot Wade and Nate strolling along the beach, hand in hand.

You grin, hop of the hood of your car, and traipse across the sand so you can greet them. “Hey, guys!”

Wade pulls you into a massive hug. “‘Hey’ yourself, crackerjack!”

Nate hugs you from the side once Wade sets you down. “How’re you doing, kid?”

“Really good. It’s been a fun day.”

Wade waggles his nonexistent eyebrows at you. “And it’ll be more fun once you and Metallica are finally alone together.”

“Yeah, well, that’s for me and me alone to know, dorkus.”

“Gasp!” Wade presses his hand against his chest, feigning offense. “See if I give you the next step in your scavenger hunt now!”

You laugh and roll your eyes. “You do realize I could just take it from you, right? I’ve won nearly every fight we’ve ever gotten in.”

“Prepare to get your ass kicked, little sis.” He pulls a white envelope out of his hoodie pocket and holds it above your head. “Boom! Whatcha gonna do now!”

You give him a flat look, then hover up until you’re at eye level with his hand and pluck the envelope from his fingers.

“Dammit! Forgot about that!”

Nathan just chuckles. “It was a good try, handsome.”

“Define ‘good,’” you tease as you drop lightly onto the sand.

“Fine! See if I share my Gushers with you from now on!”

“I take everything back.”

Nathan shakes his head and smirks. “You’re both insane.”

“And?” You and Wade ask simultaneously.

“You’re dating me,” Wade adds. “And you basically adopted her.”

“Pretty sure that makes you the crazy one,” you agree with a nod.

“Whatever.” Nate latches onto Wade’s hand and squeezes gently. “We ought to head out.”

“Yup,” Wade concurs, popping the ‘p.’ “We’ll let you read your little love note in private; we’ll see you back at the mansion.”

“See you there.” You make your good-byes, then watch them walk towards the parking lot next to the beach, contemplating where to read your latest note at.

You could always sit in your car again, like you did at Grant’s restaurant, but… it is a really gorgeous day out…

You spy a picnic bench a few yards away and decide to sit there so you can better enjoy the sun, sand, and surf. Once you’re comfortably seated, you open the envelope and start reading the card inside.

Myshka,

During years I have known you, I have come to appreciate you in many ways –especially your ferocious love for those you care deeply for.

Perhaps it is because I am more passive, but your tenacity and protectiveness astounds me. I so often worry over offending others or taking wrong steps in confrontation that I forgo it altogether –which, as you have seen, does not always result well. You are so unbelievably brave and bold, and I admire you so much for it.

I hope that, as we go through life together, I can learn from you how to be braver and bolder myself.

Love,

Piotr

You can’t help but smile –part soft and part shocked—and lower the card so you can process everything you’re feeling.

It’s difficult to wrap your head around, to say the least. You’ve never felt particularly brave –bold, yes, but that doesn’t always put things in your favor. At any rate, there’s a lot that still scares you. You still have regular nightmares about your childhood, and while your anxiety is better, it’s still a daily struggle you have to work through. “Brave” is far from the first word you would use to describe yourself.

But, then, you’d probably default to words like “dumbass,” or “dork,” so maybe your opinion isn’t the end all, be all in this situation.

And, just maybe, there’s some truth in that. The perception and opinion of self is important, sure, but maybe there are times where you aren’t the best authority on your defining features. After all, how long have you called yourself “worthless,” and yet Piotr can see so many amazing qualities in you?

Piotr, whose honesty is one of his most defining qualities. Piotr, who invests in everyone around him and works to help them find the best in themselves. Piotr, who loves you and adores you despite your flaws.

Maybe… maybe you’re not as bad or “worthless” or “monstrous” as you think you are –as you’ve been told you are.

You sigh as you reflect on how far you’ve come and how hard you’ve worked to improve. I don’t know about brave… but I’ve made it through a lot. You smile to yourself. I guess I’m pretty tough, at least.

Tough’s good. Tough means endurance, and you’ve definitely got that in spades.

You let out a quiet, giddy laugh, then lift the card so you can read the hint.

Hint: Come back home.

Excitement sparks in your gut, and you tap out a quick message to Piotr letting him know you’re coming home before springing up and running to your car (well, as much as you can run on sand).

It’s time to see what your darling boyfriend’s been up to.

***

 It’s mid-evening when you pull into the gravel drive outside the mansion –and you’re immediately greeted by all the students, Ellie, Russell, and Yukio included.

You park your car a couple yards away from them. “Hey, guys,” you say as you step out. “What’s going on?”

“Mr. Colossus said to take you to the back yard,” Timothy says, grinning excitedly.

“You have to close your eyes though,” Kitty adds, lips stretched into a similarly enthralled grin.

You raise an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. And you all are gonna help me get to the back?” You chuckle when you get a chorus of “yeahs,” then close your eyes and hold out your hands. “Okay. Just don’t run me into anything.”

Several little hands latch onto your arms, and then you’re being half-guided, half-led away from the driveway and –presumably—towards the back of the Institute. Most of the kids are shorter than you and don’t understand anything about “walking calmly,” so it’s a little jerky and stuttered, but eventually you come to a stop.

“Can I open my eyes now?” you ask.

“Yup,” Ellie says. “Go ahead.”

You open your eyes –and immediately gasp out loud. “Oh my gosh!”

The backyard directly behind the house has been completely transformed –you almost don’t recognize it.

There are tables draped with soft white tablecloths, lined with white folding chairs –the nice kind that you’ve seen at expensive, catered events—and decorated with vases of small, pink flowers off to the side.

Twinkling fairy lights are strung everywhere; someone –several people, actually, there’s no way one person could’ve done all this—has put up delicate metal trellises and draped the lights over them, thus casting the space in a soft, almost aethereal glow.

Everyone’s here, too. The students, the teachers and staff, your uncle and found family, Piotr’s family, the other residents. There’ll all standing or sitting at the edges of the lit space, smiling at you as you take in all the changes.

And, at the other end of the space –a little further back so it doesn’t pick up glare from the fairy lights—is a projection screen.

“Here.” Ellie takes you by the elbow and moves you so you can see the screen better. “Stand here.”

“What on Earth is going on?” you ask, whipping your head around as a few people chuckle. “Where’s Piotr?”

Ellie just nods at the screen. “Watch.”

You turn your head back to the screen as it lights up. Soft guitar music players from speakers set up somewhere, not that you can find them—

And then a picture of you and Piotr flits onto the screen –specifically, one of the two you dressed as Persephone and Hades for Halloween.

Your face splits into a giant grin.

A slide show starts, slowly flipping from picture to picture, charting the course of your relationship.

There’s one from the first time you’d ever carved pumpkins; someone had managed to get a shot of Piotr watching you with an adorable, lovestruck expression on his face.

Another from your first Christmas season away from home –it’s of the two of you making snowmen together.

You grin when one of the pictures Wade had taken of the two of you kissing under mistletoe pops up; it’s still one of your favorite pictures of all time.

There’s a selfie Piotr had taken of the two of you early in the morning where you’re kissing his cheek –and one at the end of your first stay with him at his art retreat house where you can see a hickey peeking over the collar of your shirt, and oops that’s kind of scandalous.

The slideshow is as much of a walk down memory lane as the scavenger hunt; each picture brings crystal clear, golden-hued memories to your mind’s eye, dragging you further and further into a sea of lovestruck nostalgia.

You’re smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

The slideshow also shows the extent of Piotr’s picture taking prerogative –obsession, whatever. There’s at least a hundred pictures, from the incredibly mundane –the two of you in your pajama, eating bowls of cereal—to the more elaborate –a more staged ‘end of the year’ picture that you’d both dressed up and posed for.

You cackle with everyone else when the picture Wade had taken of the two of you “doing” Seven Minutes in Heaven shows on the screen. Oh, no way in hell Piotr put that in there. Holy shit.

The slideshow ends with the last picture Aiden had taken of you and Piotr kissing –the one where he’d been completely armored down and had cupped your face with his hands.

You smile happily as you wipe away a few tears from the corners of your eyes. You’re beyond speechless, even as the screen goes dark; you can’t remember the last time anyone did anything this nice or elaborate for you, even for something as important as an anniversary.

A large hand settles on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “Privet, myshka.”

You whirl around and immediately pull your boyfriend down into a passionate kiss.

His hand comes up the back of your head, while his arm wraps around your back –he’s got something in his other hand, not that you can be bothered to care right now—effectively holding you to him.

You can’t remember the last time a kiss has felt this good –which isn’t to say that all the other kisses you’ve had with him have been bad. But between the anticipation of wanting to see him all day, the excitement of not knowing what’s going on, and the emotional journey of the scavenger hunt and the slideshow… you’re in a state, to say the least.

Piotr, fortunately, picks up on your extra emotional –and hormonal—state and breaks the kiss before you can start wholesale undressing him in front of everyone. He strokes the swell of your cheeks with his thumb, smiling broadly, then pulls his arm away from your back. “These are for you.”

You gasp at the sight of the massive –and it really is, holy shit how much did he spend on these—bouquet of roses he’s holding out to you. You have to sling your purse strap over your shoulder so you can hold all of them properly. “Piotr –what—”

“Happy Anniversary, moya lyubov’.” He helps you get the flowers settled in the crook of your right arm, then kisses your temple gently. “Have you had good day?”

“Yes. Oh my goodness, it’s been amazing. How did you do all of this?”

“Much planning.” He smiles, clearly pleased with himself and the situation. “Did you enjoy scavenger hunt?”

“I loved it, Piotr. It –this is all so amazing. I don’t deserve all of this –I don’t even have a present for you—”

He shushes you gently, wiping a stray tear off your cheek. “Tische, myshka. I told you today was about you. That I would get my joy later.”

“Okay, but—” Your brain starts processing again, and you finally realize that he’s dressed up in a suit.

A nice suit. Crisp, perfectly tailored (which isn’t easy, considering that he is Large), and black, with a white button-down shirt and a blue and purple tie that makes his eyes pop.

You sputter –your brain’s working, but your mouth isn’t, evidently. “W -why are you wearing—” you gesture haphazardly at him with your free hand “—why are you wearing a suit? Why does the backyard look like this? What’s even going on?”

He grins, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Happy Anniversary, myshka.”

And then he pulls a black velvet box out of an inner jacket pocket and gets down on one knee.

You gasp and clap your free hand over your mouth.

“Y/N L/N,” Piotr says, voice shaking a little but undeniably overjoyed and excited. “I have waited for so long to have opportunity to do this –and it has been worth every single minute. You are beautiful, intelligent, funny, kind, and you own my whole heart. I knew from moment that I told you I loved you that I wanted to spend my life with you. I knew that this journey would be difficult, and we might never reach this point—” he stops to take a breath and lets out an excited giggle “—but here we are. I love you. Will you please be my wife?”

You’re crying. You never thought you’d cry when Piotr proposed –several years ago you never even thought you’d be getting proposed to—but you’re definitely crying now.

You love him. You love him so much. He’s the universe’s gift to you, a reparation for everything you’ve had to suffer through to get to this point.

There couldn’t have possibly been a better gift, which is why there’s only one possible answer to his question.

“Yes,” you eke out amidst a steady trickle of tears and nervous-energy laughter. “Yes!”

Piotr’s eyes light up while everyone else cheers. He stands, pulling you into a hug and kissing you like you’ve given him the most precious thing in the world.

Which, you suppose makes sense, considering he’s just done the same for you.

He breaks the kiss again –though it takes him longer than before, which you count as a win—then delicately plucks the ring out of the box and slides it down your left ring finger, and—

It’s gorgeous. A sparkling solitaire diamond on a gold band. Big enough to look nice, but not so big that you won’t be able to get your flight gloves over it. It’s clear he put a lot of thought in making sure it would integrate well into your life and mesh with your tastes.

You kiss him again. And again. And again. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

This is your forever.

***

 There’s a party afterwards with everyone at the mansion –catered by Grant, no less.

“My second-in-command’s got it,” he says when you ask him about his restaurant. “We do catering gigs all the time, we’ve got it figured out. Besides—” he nudges Piotr in the side “—I couldn’t say no to this one.”

Aiden and his team are present as well; apparently, they were taking pictures of you during the slideshow, then of you and Piotr during the actual proposal. Not that you noticed –though you did have a good reason to be distracted, in your defense.

They keep taking pictures throughout the evening –between rounds of helping themselves to the food at Piotr’s instruction, since “it is dinnertime; not good to skip meals.”

You get hugs and-slash-or congratulations from everyone –including Scott, which is proof positive that he can, in fact, act like a decent fucking human being every now and then.

Wade hugs you so hard that your ribs hurt. “Oh my Francis! This is even better than three mini-lion robots coming together to former a super lion robot.”

You laugh as he sets you back down. “Damn. That’s a pretty high standard to meet.”

Nate’s far more gentle. “Congratulations, kid. You two are great together.”

“Well, I certainly hope so.” You raise an eyebrow about him. “How long did you know about this for?”

Nathan smiles and shrugs. “A while. He asked for my permission, so I had a pretty decent head’s up.”

Something warm and tender settles in your chest, and you have to clear your throat a couple times before you speak again. “Does that mean you’re walking me down the aisle?”

His smile softens further and he nods. “I’d be honored.”

Piotr’s family is similarly excited. They flock around the two of you, overjoyed and more than a bit emotional—

Well, three out of four of them are overjoyed and more than a bit emotional. Mikhail’s default setting in any emotional setting seems to be “snark.”

Then again, Mikhail’s default setting in general seems to be “snark.”

“Well, that was disgustingly wholesome,” he says with a smirk –which earns him a pinch in the side from Illyana (which is definitely a punishment, considering how strong her hands are from playing violin).

You can already tell that the comment’s ruffling Piotr’s feathers in the absolute wrong way, but you can also see where Mikhail was trying to be funny and fell flat.

You decide to respond with humor before your boyfriend –no, he’s your fiancé now—gets too prickly. “Don’t worry, we’ll be back to the regularly scheduled debauchery as of nine tomorrow morning.”

Mikhail laughs, then seems to finally notice Piotr’s icy expression –or, more likely, Illyana gave him a psychic tip off that he done hecked up—and switches course immediately. He clasps his younger brother’s shoulder –and actually has to reach up to do so, which is a little amusing to you—and gives Piotr a genuine smile. “I am proud of you. Happy for you. You picked good one.”

That seems to soothe Piotr, at least a little. He smiles down at you and squeezes your hand in his. “Best one there is.”

Your uncle comes up last, once the crowd has thinned a little –though it’s worth noting that Aiden an his team don’t try to get any pictures with him in it (when you ask Piotr later, he explains that he forewarned Aiden that your uncle didn’t like having his picture taken and made sure that Aiden and his coworkers would be able to work with that).

His eyes are noticeably misty –heck, yours are too—when he pulls you in for a hug. “Proud of you, punk. So fucking proud.”

“I’m proud of you, too,” you say as you hold him tight. “We’ve both come a long way, huh?”

“Yeah,” he concedes, swiping at his eyes once he lets you go. “We have.”

Eventually, the party comes to an end. Grant and his team pack up their equipment, Aiden’s and his coworkers put away their cameras, and the youngest students are sent to bed while the other residents head off to do their own things.

As for you and Piotr, the two of you head off to your shared room for some well-deserved one-on-one time. You wind up snuggling in bed –though, admittedly, that’s not the first thing the two of you do.

Because neither of you had been kidding about finding pleasure at the end of the night.

You admire your ring and the way it sits on your finger for the umpteenth time as Piotr traces gentle, slow circles up and down your bare back. You wiggle your fingers back and forth, then giggle, giddy and overjoyed.

Piotr’s lips press against your forehead. “Happy?”

“Very.” You tilt your head back to kiss him properly, passionately. “I love you, Piotr.”

“And I love you, Y/N.”

You wriggle a little in his arms so you can see his face better. “How long did you plan all this for? And how did you keep me from finding out?”

“I knew how I wanted to propose… since our first anniversary,” he says after a moment of thought. “I did not start making cards until your diagnosis, though. I did not want to run risk of you finding them and panicking that I would leave you if we could never get married.”

You smooth your hand over his shoulder. “Yeah, there was probably some prudence there.”

“As for keeping everything secret, I just kept it all in my art studio,” he explains with a smile. “I figured you would not look there.”

“Yeah, well, you were right. Not that I would’ve gone snooping through your stuff, but yeah. I would’ve never looked there.”

He kisses the top of your head. “Did you like everything today? I was worried it would be too taxing or obnoxious—”

“It was perfect,” you reassure him, and his responding smile makes you feel warm and fuzzy all over. “I loved it. I just feel bad that I didn’t have anything for you. Honestly… I kinda forgot that today was our anniversary until I read the first card this morning.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “No worries. I enjoyed today immensely.” He smirks, then kneads the flesh of your hip with his hand. “Besides, I knew I would get mine later.”

“Well, yeah.” You sling your arms around his neck and smile excitedly. “We’re gonna get married.”

His responding smile is equally excited. “Da. I know.”

You kiss him and let out a happy sigh. “I love you.”

His arms wind around you. “And I love you.”

“Happy Anniversary, sweetheart.”

He kisses your cheek sweetly. “Happy Anniversary, myshka.”

[gwenbrightly]

Elements

Oh look! My brain decided to create a random drabble about elemental powers instead of focusing on OMAC… Oops. I guess Misako's appearance will have to wait… All the headcanons and stories I've been reading lately that mention Lloyd's powers acting up when he gets emotional made the temptation to write this too great. So yeah. This one shot can probably be considered a part of Of Milk and Cookies, and takes place just after the chapter titled Awkward. I hope you enjoy!

Elemental powers are weird, Lloyd muses early one morning not too long after their visit to Darkley's Boarding School. He can control his now – sorta – and the others can do some pretty amazing stuff with theirs – like being able to lift a sports car with your pinkie. Or spark fire with a snap of your fingers (literally). Or charge your phone using only your own energy. Or meditate inside of a freezer for hours on end without getting cold (okay, maybe he hadn't been around for that). All those things are incredibly cool, and Lloyd's not complaining, because someday he'll be able to do all of that too, which is super exciting. He can't wait, really.

But sometimes... Sometimes having powers isn't exactly the best. He's been around this weird, dorky family of his long enough to notice that there are days where things get a little out of wack. Where Kai or Zane get emotional and the temperature around them suddenly changes to the extreme, or any number of other bizarre side effects. Just last week, Lloyd walked into their skimpy apartment only to feel his hair immediately begin defying gravity due to the sheer amount of electricity filling the air. Puns involving shocking had most definitely been made. Cole and Jay's latest argument (See: whether or not pineapple is an acceptable topping for pizza) had gotten a little... heated, and the master of lightning's powers had acted up as a result. It wasn't the first time this sort of thing had happened, and the blonde is pretty sure it won't be the last. Still, he has to admit that it's a little (a lot) unnerving to deal with the aftermath of an elemental outburst... Especially... now that he's experienced his own for the first time... Okay, he'll admit it – that's the real reason he's up right now – not because he was craving poptarts. Which is what he plans to tell the others if they question it. Not that they're awake, so he's safe. For the time being, at least. Maybe he can get this glass cleaned up and replace the lightbulb before anyone finds out? If he's lucky. Lloyd slips over to the meager set of cupboards that they've installed in one corner. They have to be keeping some extra lightbulbs around here somewhere... Honestly, given what's happened during training, he really shouldn't be surprised that his latest nightmare ended with him blowing up their light source – it had been so vivid, and just… he'd woken up terrified. He hates feeling like that. He'd stared at the mess for quite some time, too shocked to do anything about it at first, but. Having all that power running through his veins was guaranteed to catch up with him eventually. He knows that, but it doesn't make attempting to quietly remove broken glass from the floor any less of a struggle. Carefully picking up the largest piece of what used to be a lightbulb, Lloyd shoves it in the garbage. Bit by bit, the debris begins to disappear. The green ninja has managed to dispose of most it by the time someone else wakes up (it's impressive that it took this long, to tell the truth). It's Nya, of course, trying hard to cover up the fact that she isn't a morning person (at all). The girl seems to have some sort of magical sensing abilities that activate whenever he's in trouble. She gives him a concerned look before wordlessly grabbing a fresh lightbulb from a shelf too high for him to reach. The samurai drags their one whole rickety stool over to the socket and screws it in with a large yawn. Then, Nya gives the floor a quick scan, looking for any remaining hazards that might exist. There are none.

"So. I earned some extra cash at the autobody shop yesterday. Wanna go get some donuts?" The girl asks her adoptive brother, eventually.

"Huh?" Lloyd stares at her, not fully processing the question. She shakes her head with a sigh. Clearly today's gonna be a rough one. He really could stand to get away from the apartment for awhile – to decompress and all that therapeutic stuff you're supposed to do when you're dealing with emotional triggers.

"Donuts, Lloyd. You know, those pastries police men are so obsessed with? I'm leaving in five with or without you." His mind may not immediately get what she's saying, but his stomach certainly does. Growl.

"That's a yes, then?" Nya says, smirking.

"Sure. Okay." He replies with a shrug, because donuts do sound awfully good, now that he thinks about it and. He's not gonna pass up the opportunity to eat something other than off brand cereal for breakfast. That would be completely out of character, no matter what the reason for doing so is. They slip out of the apartment, careful not to wake the others (though Cole's definitely going to be offended if he finds out about it later) and wander down the sidewalk. As it turns out, the nearest donut shop is less than a block away. The smell of freshly fried dough greets the pair as they push the door open. Mmm… It's only when she notices the distinct lack of customers inside that Nya realizes how early it is. A glance at her phone (which she probably should've checked before they left) tells her it's not even 5:30 yet. Oh well, if the place is open, it's not like they're intruding or anything. Lloyd perks up noticeably when she lets him pick out his own donut – a questionable decision, since he immediately chooses the one with as much frosting as humanly possible and a thick coating of rainbow sprinkles. It even has gummy worms on it. A part of her wants to scold him for being so unhealthy, but the grin on his face. She can't. So, she selects a donut of her own (powdered sugar with raspberry filling) and hands the drowsy cashier a bill. They find themselves a booth near the windows lining the front of the store and enjoy their breakfast in silence for a few minutes before Nya says anything to Lloyd.

"So. Nightmare?"

"Yup." He tells her in a small voice, playing absent mindedly with one of his gummy worms.

"I kinda figured." She comments wearily, "You gonna be okay?"

"Dunno. Hope so."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"I-I…. Don't really remember much about the dream itself… Just… It was so freaky to wake up with the light going crazy… and then it exploded, and I've never had my powers go out of control on me like that and…" Nya wraps a comforting arm around the blonde's shoulders. He leans against her, regretting having been woken up so early, and perhaps still a little shaken by the events that transpired earlier.

"I'm sure it was pretty freaky… You know you can always wake on of us up if you need to, right?" Lloyd nods unconvincing. There are no tears, surprisingly, which Nya takes as a good sign.

"I know… And I was gonna. Eventually. But I wanted to take care of the glass first – so nobody stopped on it. Thanks for helping. With the lightbulb. Being short sucks sometimes."

"Course it does. But it's gonna suck even more someday when you finally stop being such a pipsqueak and end up taller than me." Asserts the samurai. He giggles weakly.

"You don't know that that's what's gonna happen… maybe you'll get lucky?"

"I guess you have a point there. But seriously, if you have any more issues with your powers, I'm here to help. And so are the others. I mean, Kai accidentally set his bunk on fire when he first got his true potential… Maybe you should talk to him about this – I'm sure he'd understand…" Kai is a pretty okay listener from what Lloyd's seen at this point. He probably wouldn't have convinced himself to revisit Darkley's without him.

"M'kay. I'll think about it." He decides through a mouthful of donut, "Not right now though? I kinda just wanna forget about the whole thing…"

"That's valid. This can be our little secret. Betcha the guys aren't even awake yet." The girl agrees, figuring he'll share more when he's ready. She's not gonna push him. This time.

"They're really missing out. This donut is delicious." Lloyd tells her, clearly done talking about powers, nightmares, or anything related. Life's really not so bad when you've got an awesome older sister to buy you junk good. Even if it is only because your elemental abilities went haywire in your sleep.

"Totally. But they don't need to know anything about that. You, on the other hand, will be taking a nap as soon as training is over for the day. And I don't meaning laying around reading comic books. Actually sleeping will be expected." Nya stated, giving him a pointed look.

"What? But that's not fair! I just got a new one!" Lloyd groans indignantly.

"And I'm sure you find plenty of time to read it eventually. However, you also need your rest, so that's gonna have to be a priority for now." Deep down, he knows she's right. He just doesn't plan on admitting it. So, he decides to focus on what's left of the mound of pastry, frosting, and sprinkles instead. He feels better now, anyway.

" So, that happened?" Lloyd says one day, several years down the road, as he stares at a soaking wet Kai. He's not even sure where that much water could possibly have come from.

"Uh... Oh my gosh, Kai, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to..." Nya apologizes, attempting to use her abilities to draw the moisture away from her brother.

"I mean, we all knew it was gonna happen eventually. S'not that big of a deal. But you do owe me a new tube of hair gel..." He shrugs, not particularly concerned. The reason for their... Disagreement isn't important anymore. Things have been tense for everyone since the battle with Morro. He just wants her to be okay. She's not exactly the biggest fan of her elemental powers in the first place.

"Yeah. That's fair." She agrees after a second, looking sheepish.

"Happens to all of us." Lloyd reminds her, "Wanna go get some donuts?"

[setaripendragon]

So I’m just... sitting in a weird creative rut at the moment. Like, I’ve got all these half-baked ideas that aren’t going anywhere so I can’t write them, so I can’t get them out of my system so I can’t come up with any more solid ideas. I feel like I’m standing in the middle of a room and someone’s just dropped three crates of interesting knick-knacks on the floor. Like, this is all so colourful and shiny, but... there’s so much? and they’re all so tiny? what do you want me to do with these???

SO. This is me venting. (And also throwing fic recs out into the void because I need someone to scream with about Supernatural, none of my irl friends have watched more than a few episodes.)

I got back into the Supernatural fandom recently, and I’m... god, it feels like heresy to even say it, bored with Destiel. Like, I still love them, I’m still eagerly awaiting Cas’s debut in my rewatch, but I’m also, like, looking at these thousands on thousands of fics about them, and I feel like... ‘yes? I know? God, I know these two are fucking soulmates?’ It’s how I usually get about canon pairings (that I like, anyway), actually. I just... don’t get invested (so much) in the fanfiction because, well, obviously.

On the other hand, I could really, really do with some good Dean/Cas/Gabe fics that aren’t The Nature and Kynde of a Lyon, or Frate, non far: ché tu se' ombra, e ombra vedi. (If anyone has an recs, send them my way, please, god.) I love that OT3 like you wouldn’t believe. (I should rewrite their entry for my OT3 drabbles series, cause I didn’t do them justice at all)

I want to write my own story about them. I want to write a fic where Gabe helps Dean deal with the trauma of Hell, where Gabe and Cas circle each other so, so carefully because Gabriel’s afraid of caring too much and then losing and Cas has ages old abandonment issues to deal with, I want to write Gabe shoving Dean and Cas’s heads together and being all ‘now kiss’, and Cas telling Dean and Gabe repeatedly that they are ‘very much alike’ when they each observe how much he cares about the other, and Dean being all insecure and bitchy because Gabe and Cas can relate to each other on a level he could never, and both of them having to come together to reassure him that, no, really, it’s not right without him.

I also really really really want Crobby-centric fics. It’s so hard to find them on Ao3 because it’s usually a side pairing to Destiel. And... it’s not like I don’t ship Destiel. I still love it. So I can’t just ‘exclude Destiel’ because... because then I wind up with side-pairings I don’t like? I just... I wish Ao3 had a ‘main pairing’ tag category, and a ‘side pairing‘ tage category, because what I really want is main pairing Crobby with a side of Destiel. I only have one Crobby fic rec, and that’s A Handful of Dirt.

I want to write a fic where Bobby and Crowley end up being really domestic together, and like, six months in, Bobby’s just like ‘lightbulb’ and then ‘damn, I can’t believe we coulda been having sex this entire time’. And then I want to write a Dean PoV Crobby centric fic where Dean has to face his internalised homophobia because of the Crobby, and has his own queer crisis, and Bobby is a Good Dad and the big emotional climax is Dean and Bobby having a chat (stilted and gruff because that’s just how they are) about it all, and Dean just... can’t say it out loud because he’s got John fucking Winchester’s predictable reaction in his head, and Bobby just claps him on the shoulder, gives him a little shake and is like ‘it’s alright, y’idjit’

(And in the epilogue Crowley surreptitiously slaps a ‘Not gay as in happy, but Queer as in FUCK YOU!’ bumper sticker on the Impala and Dean throws an epic shit fit and figures out it was Crowley and yells at him ‘you don’t go fucking defacing someone else’s fucking car, you hellspawn!’ and Crowley holds up his hands all ‘alright, alright, I’ll take it right off’ and Dean glowers at him and snaps ‘don’t you fucking dare’, because, hey, he does like the sentiment. It feels like something that fits him and his life more than cutesy little flags and all those weird-ass labels Sammy likes to throw around like the nerd he is.)

I so, so badly want to write (or read) a modern AU fic where Dean, Benny, and Charlie are Queer BFFs together. (Benny is Ace, fight me.) Maybe even a Leverage AU? Charlie is obviously the hacker, Benny’s the hitter, Dean’s the thief. (Bela is Charlie’s girlfriend, who they call when they need a grifter.)

Which reminds me, I need to go look for some Charlie/Bela, because I ship that so hard, you have no idea. I love them to pieces individually, they’d be so amazing together.

I also really want to write a fic where Dean and Sam get punted somehow into an alternate universe where everything is just... WEIRD. Like, a verse where the Men of Letters were still a thing, maybe even where John was one? Where John and Mary didn’t die, but got divorced, and it was messy and traumatic, and Dean has to confront the fact that the idyllic apple-pie childhood he remembers was a four-year-old’s rose-tinted recollection, not the truth. (I want Dean, Benny, and Charlie to be BFFs in that world, too.)

And Sam is married to Princess Mia, because I know it’s a crackship, okay, I know it was a fucking stupid ass joke on this stupid ass hellsite, but god do I ship it so hard. They have so much in common. They’re both ‘normal’ kids who got saddled with a ‘special destiny’ at birth (or close enough), which comes with a hell of a lot of responsibility (and a few perks), who keep trying to hold onto their freedom, and are actually super soft decent people who just wanna be happy and loved. (I am so very torn on whether I prefer it if it’s a literal world-merge and Sam is marrying actual European royalty, or if it’s an AU where instead of ‘surprise you’re a princess’ Mia gets ‘surprise you’re from a family of epic hunters’ (Julie Andrews as a badass hunter matriarch? Yes please.))

And I really, really want next gen shenanigans. Ben, and Claire, and Krissy, and Jesse, and Patience, and Jacob, and hell, even Lucas. (Instead of that weird ass ‘we’re being inclusive look women’ spin-off they tried to pitch) I want Ben and Claire bonding as not!sibling because their not!dads are totally gay for each other and being stupid about it. I want Ben and Claire getting into petty fights about who Krissy likes more because they both took one look at her and got massive life-ruining crushes on her. I want Claire and Jesse being BFFs, and Ben and Patience.

I may make a seperate post about the series I want to write about these kids. (It will be an epic post-season-8 fix it. Maybe I should turn it into an original series...)

I want to write a psychic wolves AU. I want to write a Daemon AU. I (do not) want to try and figure out a Hogwarts AU. I’m remembering my old crossover with Charmed that I had planned (doesn’t Patience just give you Charmed vibes?). I want to write time-travel. I want to write time-travel OT3 with Mia/Sam/Jess. I want to write time-travel where the next gen end up zapping themselves into the past for some reason.

God, wouldn’t that be fun? The kids trying to deal with teenage Dean and Sam? (I give it three minutes in the man’s presence before Jacob tries to eat John’s brains.) Or even have them older, and land just before the start of the series?

As you can see, I’ve got all these ideas, but there’s no real substance to them? Nothing that goes ‘yes that’s a story I can tell’ just... premises and moments and nothing really coherent.

[thebrotherswholoved]

unconditionally

summary: A short lil’ drabble in which Sam and Dean have a teenaged kid who reveals a secret to them.

words: 1.7k

read on ao3 (please)

⇣ ⇣ ⇣

Sam and Dean’s daughter comes home from school one day with a black eye, bruises, and a limp, making it difficult to sneak past her overbearing dads unnoticed. Her arm is probably broken given the deformity in her wrist, but that’s not what really hurts—no, it’s now how those kids beat her up, it’s why. Her secret is killing her, now literally as well as figuratively.

When the fifteen year old tries to get through the door after walking from her bus stop, she doesn’t expect her fathers to be home. Her dad works as a forensic analyst down at the police department and her papa is a medical assistant, so they rarely get home before five o’clock even if they work the same hours. So when she stumbles into the foyer like a fawn learning to walk, wincing with every movement because god, those kids fucked her up, she’s surprised to hear a concerned gasp and footsteps running toward her weakened body.

“Jenna, what the hell happened?!” Dean asks as he takes his daughter into his arms, trying to be as gentle as possible with her while he carries her to the couch. A Maury Povich rerun is still playing onscreen from seconds earlier when he and Sam were snuggling together on their break, but he drowns out the results of Donna whatever-her-name-was’s paternity test to take care of his little girl.

Sam hustles in from the powder room with a hospital-worthy first aid kit in hand and joins his husband and daughter on the sofa to get a better look at her wounds. She’s got bruises running up and down her arms, a laceration on her forehead, a sprained ankle, a black eye, and a fractured wrist (that would have to be determined by a doctor, but he’s basically one, right?)—a whole mess of blood and hurt.

“Oh, baby…” he pushes her hair back and hisses at the dried blood staining her skin, “what happened? Who did this to you?”

Jenna, scared to death, attempts to stand up and ‘walk it off’ only to be ushered back to a sitting position between the two men.

“Uh…” she winces at her split lip, making it incredibly difficult to talk coherently, “these kids, four or five of ‘em I think, ganged up on me. I’m fine, though; you don’t have’ta baby me.”

Dean shakes his head and tries to remain calm, even though every fiber of his being is telling him to track those bastards down and make sure they’ll never come after his little girl again. “Jen, you got hurt pretty bad. If Sammy can’t fix you up, we’re takin’ you to the hospital.”

The teen shakes her head in an adamant plea, tears coming to her emerald eyes. “No! Please, no. That’ll just make it worse.”

“Hey, we’ll only go if we have to.” Sam assures the brunette in his arms, knowing full well that she hates hospitals. In the fourth grade she had to go in for an emergency appendectomy, and she passed out when the nurse put her IV in. “Can you lift up your shirt a little, bug? I’m not gonna look, I’ve just gotta check your stomach.”

Her face goes pale at this, but she reluctantly nods her head and pulls her flannel shirt up to expose her abdomen. To his relief, Sam finds no hardness or tenderness when he presses around her midsection, instead becoming perplexed at another finding. When he pulls her shirt back down, his finger brushes against something that feels like an ACE bandage.

Biting his lip, he looks down at her as she places an ice pack over her left eye. “Did you try bandaging yourself already, Jen? ‘Cause I thought I felt a wrap around your ribs.”

Jenna looks like she’s going to be sick with anxiety. Ignoring all the pain in her body, she begins hyperventilating when she tries to speak, and Sam holds her tight to calm her down. Dean works her through her breathing—4, 5, 7—and they wait until she had enough control over herself to finish her thought.

“N-no, I—that’s for s-something else.” She’s crying now, borderline hysterical: a sight that makes her fathers want to start weeping as well. They look at her and silently ask her to elaborate, but she bites her bloody lip and shakes her head. “I don’t…I can’t tell you. I just can’t. You’ll be pissed and hate me forever.”

Her papa takes her hand in his and looks her in the eye. “Bug, you can tell your dad and I anything. We’ll never judge you, ever.”

“We promise,” Dean chimes in. “I mean, your papa and I were literally in a sanitarium for, like, a week. Right, babe?”

“Yeah.” Sam nods with a chuckle. “So, whatever you need to tell us, we can guarantee that we’ve heard and dealt with worse.”

These words seem to help Jenna compose herself and conjure up the courage needed to reveal this part of her identity she’s kept secret for so long. It’s been so rough lying to her dads since she discovered that she is who she is two years ago and she’s exhausted. Maybe, just maybe, they’ll be alright with it.

“Okay,” she whispers, lowering the ice from her bruised eye. “You know how there are some kids who…I dunno, they don’t feel comfortable in their bodies, I guess?”

The younger brother thinks for a moment then nods like a lightbulb went off in his head. “Yeah! Those teens with gender identity disorder and stuff. I worked with a girl who had that, got her on estrogen.”

Dean smiles at his husband’s comment and ponders the correlation before turning back to Jenna, thoroughly confused. “What about them?”

The fifteen year old is fumbling with the hem of her shirt now. She’s barely been able to come out to her best friend, and now her parents? That’s a huge leap. But, she’s hidden for long enough—she won’t let this kill her. Not like how it’s killed so many others. “I…I’m one of those k-kids. I’m sorry, Dad…Papa…”

Sam sits in silence for a few seconds before he hears crying from beside him, the figure in his arms shaking violently. He locks eyes with his husband, who nods with a small, understanding smile, and clears his throat.

“Hey, don’t cry,” he cooes, running his fingers through the long hair rubbing against his arm—that will probably have to go. “This doesn’t change a damn thing, bug. Your dad and I love you more than anything else in this world, and something this isn’t going to change that. You don’t have to be our Jenna for us to love you.”

“If it’s any consolation, I didn’t agree with your papa when he chose your name,” Dean leans in to mutter, earning him a bitch face from Sam and a small chuckle from the ball of emotion beside him. “Do you want us to call you somethin’ different? I can’t promise that I’ll get it immediately, but I’ll try my best.”

The teen looks up at him with reddened eyes and smiles a bit. “Jack. I like the name Jack…is that okay?”

“Sure thing, Jack,” Dean kisses his son’s head and feels his tears wet his Led Zeppelin lounge shirt. He’s not alarmed, though; he knows that these tears are happy ones. “Alright, now that you’ve got that off your chest…get it?”

His husband snorts a bit and Jack laughs from beside him, now confident in his choice to tell the two idiots he’s proud to call his dads.

The older man coughs and carries on talking. “Now that that’s aired out, how ‘bout we watch Maury Povich while Papa patches you up, yeah?”

No longer hesitant, the boy nods and doesn’t really feel his physical pain over his emotional exuberance. Sam moves to grab some antiseptic but stops himself, first turning back to Jack and nodding at his chest.

“Will you take that off? It’s bad for your lungs and ribs,” he asks in a gentle voice.

The teen frowns to himself but still nods his head, reaching to his side to undo the clips fastening the bandage wrap around his chest. Once it ceases impairing his ability to breathe, Jack exhales and stretches his back, still grimacing at the feeling of his breasts against his shirt. His papa notices and pats his leg.

“I’ll order you a real binder online tonight, I promise,” he murmurs while Dean is fully indulging in his talk show obsession.

Jack beams and mouths a ‘thank you,’ which is answered with a ‘no problem, son.’ At that moment, Jack can’t remember why he was ever hesitant about telling his dads at all. They’ve always said that they’d be there for him through thick and thin, bad and good, no matter what—and they’ve come through time and time again.

”Hey, you wanna know a secret?” Dean asks his son in a whisper. Jack nods with a skepticism head tilt—damnit, Uncle Cas—and the father smiles. “When your Papa and I found out we were expecting you, I made a promise. I swore I’d always love you no matter what happened, and that I would do everything in my power to protect you and make sure you’d never be afraid to tell us anything.”

Sam sheds a tear at his lover’s words, taking his hand and looking at their son, who they’re meeting for the first time; god, he already looks so much happier and full of life than their daughter. “He did. I was there, he thought I was asleep. I made the same promise, Jack. We’re always in your corner,- nd we’ll never stop loving you.”

Jack sobs and embraces his dads. He’s never been happier than at this moment, getting his injuries nursed by his overprotective Papa and having his Dad nudge him to point at the TV and laugh at something dumb. Little does he know, his Dad is gonna come after those kids that beat him up with a BB gun and chase them off, all while screaming: “this is for my son, Jack!”

Everything is going to be alright, and he knows it. Family don’t end in blood, and he’s proud to be Jack Winchester.

[keep-calm-ask-the-librarian]

The smell of coffee and scrambled eggs had lured him down, but they were nowhere near as compelling as the sight of his wife, dressed in PJ bottoms, a sweater and a pair of fluffy slippers. Quietly crossing the kitchen he came to stand behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Immediately she relaxed back against him, her body intuitively knowing it was him and he bend down his head to kiss the sensitive patch of skin behind her ear.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice still hoarse from sleep.

Giving the eggs a last shake and turning the burners down, Olivia turned around in his arms, her smile radiant.

“Good morning,” she replied, wounding her arms around his neck.

Instantly he captured that smile with his mouth, groaning softly as she slid her hand up into his hair, pulling slightly at the strands.

“I love you,” he whispered against her lips.

“I love you too,” she breathed back, rubbing her nose against his.

It had been weeks since they had first declared their feelings for each other, but he would never grow tired of hearing her say it, or say those words to her.

“I thought you were going to sleep in this morning,” she admonished him gently, worry written clearly over her face.

The previous night he’d arrived home far past midnight after helping Larry out with a tricky situation and he was definitely feeling how few hours of sleep he’d had. But going back to bed wasn’t an option.

“The bed was too empty without you in it,” he replied, stealing another kiss.

Against his lips, she giggled. “You’re an impossible flirt, Jacques Snicket.”

“I’ll turn in for a few more hours after you and the kids are gone,” he compromised. “But now that I’m up, we might as well have breakfast together.”

Minutes later they were joined by the children and they all sat down at the breakfast nook to enjoy their scrambled eggs together.

With Esmé captured and safely behind bars it was as if a weight had been lifted off the Baudelaire children. There had been this tension that they’d been carrying with them for all those months and that had become so much ingrained with them that neither he nor Olivia had realized it had been there until it was gone.

But now, with only three weeks until Christmas, they were finally at peace.

As the children chatted around him, Jacques took a mediative bite of scrambled eggs and reflected on how much his life had changed since the night Olivia had been abducted.

In the days that had followed their ordeal, all of his concentration and focus had been on the wellbeing of his family.

Olivia, although not seriously injured, had been in a lot more discomfort than she had anticipated herself. When she woke up the following Friday she’d been barely able to move her limbs and he’d spend days drawing her hot baths, applying hot cherry pit pillows to her sore joints and very gently massaging the knots out of her strained muscles.

The children, albeit relieved, were still shaken, which resulted in the return of nightmares, especially in Violet’s case.

It had taken a week before everything had settled down somewhat and by that time, Jacques was ready to make the decision that he’d been contemplating in the back of his mind for months. Even though recently most of his V.F.D. related missions were already contained to assignments around the city, he’d still been away from home in all hours of the night far more than he felt comfortable with. And even with Quigley Quagmire now being find and reunited with his siblings, there would always be other fires, both literally and figuratively that needed his intervention as a volunteer.

So the solution had appeared to be a very simple one: it was time to step away for once and for all.

And all things considered, he was ready to take that step. His life was so different now from what it had been a year ago. He was once again part of a big family and to him that was more important than anything else in the world. He was tired of missing weekends and dinners with Olivia and the children, or arriving home at all hours of the night, too exhausted to function.

And then the most amazing thing had happened. After discussing his decision with Olivia, he had driven to the V.F.D. headquarters in Mortmain Mountains to hand in his resignation to Captain Widdershins. The Captain, not known for being the most flexible of persons, or enjoying any type of surprise had instead made him a counter-offer.

Instead of completely quitting the V.F.D., Widdershins asked him if was interested in task of rewriting ‘The History of Secret Organizations.’

Now that most of the fire-starting side was either dead or locked up, it was time to, quite literally re-write the book on how the organization should function.

The job would involve a lot of research, a lot of pouring over ancient documents and manuscripts and a lot of cataloging for which he would need the aide of a very skilled librarian.

It had taken one phone call to the Snicket Townhouse for him and Olivia to decide that they were more than eager to tackle this challenge together.

Apart from that he also agreed to become a mentor to new volunteers who were to be trained in the city and to his surprise he quickly discovered that once word got out that he was available in that capacity he was flocked with requests for advice and counsel, other volunteers apparently valuing his opinion and expertise a great deal.

At the moment he was still tying up a few lose ends, but with the start of the new year he would put away his gravity boots and wall-climbing equipment for good, while still remaining a volunteer.

Once breakfast was finished and everyone was dressed, Olivia and the children gathered their coats and bags to gear up for a day of Christmas shopping with Kit and Jacquelyn.

Ever since the night of the abduction the friendship between his wife, his sister and his now sister-in-law had grown with leaps and bounds.

He knew they had always liked and admired each other, but in the last few weeks their bond had become near unbreakable. They met up every other day for tea and Jacques never knew if they were exchanging innocent gossip or plotting world-domination.

He opted not to know.

But for today’s plans their friendship was a great help, because when Kit had suggested the shopping excursion for today, Olivia had readily agreed, not expecting any ulterior motives.

He had of course let the children in on his secret - he didn’t think Klaus would have otherwise agreed to spend his free Saturday shopping with five women - and they were every bit as excited about the plan as he was.

After handing Olivia the keys to the taxi and crossing his fingers behind his back as she made him promise her he go back to sleep for a couple of hours he waved them all off and remained by himself in the foyer, waiting nervously for the arrival of his compatriots.

Only a minute later a sizable van pulled up in front of the house and Larry’s cheerful face appeared in the window with Lemony in the passenger seat. “Good morning, this is Larry-your-flower-delivery-person!”

Hurrying outside to help them unload the van, Jacques looked at them anxiously. “Did you manage to get everything?”

“Every flower of the flower district,” Larry reassured him with a smile as he opened the backdoors of the van with a flourish.

And Jacques had to admit, Larry had outdone himself. The back of the van was packed with buckets and buckets of flowers. There was an abundance of Snowdrops and Lily of the Valley’s, Primroses and Gypsophila, but he had also managed to get his hands on roses of varies colors and even some orchids.

Behind the buckets were about a dozen boxes stacked and Jacques gave Lemony a hopeful look.

“Your wife has a magnificent obscure taste,” his brother commented, approval written all over his face. “But I did manage to get everything from the list.”

They spend the next hour bringing everything inside and as Larry went outside one last time to park the van, Jacques checked his watch.

“We have about four hours to put everything together…” he said, nerves coiling his stomach.

Lemony rolled up his sleeves. “Then we better get started.”

They barely gave themselves time for lunch, the three men working tirelessly to put everything together just as Jacques had envisioned it.

He would have never been able to pull this off just by himself, but knowing that their children, friends and family were involved actually made it all the more special.

It had been Klaus who had compiled an extensive list of all the books that Olivia considered to be her favorite and who had stayed in communication with Lemony as he had tried and succeeded to track each and every single one of them down.

Violet had invented the strings of fairy lights that he was currently putting in place, every lightbulb sparkling and twinkling brightly.

And it had been Sunny who had averted Olivia’s attention every time they needed to discuss something to make the surprise perfect.

With only half an hour to go before Olivia and the children were due home, Jacques hurried upstairs to get changed. Suddenly his shaking, nerveless fingers were useless for properly knotting his tie and it was a very good thing that Lemony was there to assist him.

“You know,” his brother told him as he put the tie around his own neck to knot it properly before giving it back. “It’s not like she is going to refuse you… you’ve been married for almost nine months now.”

“I realize that,” Jacques replied, pulling on the tie so harshly that he almost managed to choke himself.

“It’s not about her accepting me…” he continued once he was able to breath again. “It’s about her knowing how much she means to me… how important her happiness is to me… I want her to feel special…”

“How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height,”

Lemony quoted, before looking at him critically. “Give me that tie again, you’ve ruined it.”

Grumbling Jacques pulled and plucked at the knot until it finally gave away. “Elizabeth Barrett Browning said that.”

“She did,” Lemony deadpanned. “She would also tell you to get a different tie because this one now is a wrinkled mess.”

“A black tie goes with this,” Jacques protested.

“Don’t you have an ochre one?” Lemony asked. “It goes better with the ring anyway.”

“We have five minutes…” Jacques managed, breaking out in sweat as he dug though his drawer in search of the other tie.

“Which is enough,” Lemony answered matter-of-factly. “Just… give it to me and don’t touch it anymore once I’ve put it on.”

Within seconds the tie was properly fastened and Jacques breathed a sigh of relief.

“Everything will be fine,” Lemony told him. “You’ve married a wonderful woman. And I should know… I knew another absolutely wonderful woman once… I recognize those qualities immediately…”

Overcome with sympathy, Jacques reached out and hugged his brother. Lemony would probably love Beatrice for the rest of his life. In his heart and in his mind there simply wasn’t room for anyone else. But the bitter heartbreak was gone from his eyes and had been slowly fading in the past couple of weeks. And it had everything to do with the wonderful woman he’d married.

Lemony genuinely adored Olivia as a sister and the feeling was entirely mutual. Olivia, in her own, affectionate way had taken the blanket that was their family and wrapped it firmly around his younger brother, including him pointedly in all sorts of family events.

Lemony was fascinated by Beatrice’s children and went out of his way to get to know them. To the children he was a source of fresh information about their parents and the lives that they’d never known about and Lemony had already spend many evenings relating everything he remembered about them.

There would always be a Beatrice-shaped hole in Lemony’s heart, but the rest of it was steadily filling up with the renewed affection of his expanded family and he was slowly mending because of it.

As Jacques steadied himself and made his way over to the library, he knew there were a million reasons to propose this afternoon.

They’d had a wonderful day strolling through the city, gazing at festively decorated store windows and getting some of their shopping done, but as she carefully drove the taxi home, Olivia realized that being surrounded by her ever-expanding family was the best gift the past year had given her.

Jacquelyn was next to her on the passenger seat, practically sitting backwards as she was discussing the use of various nifty V.F.D. gadgets with Violet, who was in the backseat, slightly squeezed in next to Klaus, Kit and Sunny.

To her great amusement, Klaus and Kit were really hitting it off lately and Olivia contributed that mostly to the fact that they had a very similar, rather sarcastic sense of humor. All three of the Baudelaire children had little patience with foolishness and hypocrisy, especially after they had endured both of that in abundance from various adults and guardians in the past eighteen months. Olivia often felt that Klaus was most irked by this, but had always been too polite to actually say something unless the situation really called for it. Kit had no such scruples and managed to help him get out of his shell more and more.

They boy was definitely growing in confidence. He had, after endless preparations and practice sessions finally competed in the vocabulary olympiad two weeks ago, managing to bring his team to victory when he had been able to flawlessly give the definition of the word: crepuscular.

It truly had been a moment of victory, not just for Klaus and his team, but for their little family as well. After everything the children had endured in the year and a half that was behind them, they were still standing strong. Olivia hadn’t known that he was able to feel so much pride, but in that moment her heart had almost felt too big for her chest as he watched Klaus triumphantly  lift the trophy into the air wile she, Jacques, Violet and Sunny clapped their hands red.

After a few difficult weeks and assisted by the guidance of Dr. Jack Jackson, Violet had decided that she really wanted to follow in her parents (both biological and adoptive) footsteps by becoming a V.F.D. volunteer. To both her and Jacques’ relief she wanted wait for another year so she could finish school, but after that she would be recruited.

And since her stunning inventing skills were already legendary within the organization, there were a great many volunteers extremely eager to become her mentor.

And even little Sunny had big changes ahead of her. In the new year she would start pre-school and out of all of the changes in her children’s lives, Olivia had to admit she was most nervous about that. Sunny was brilliant and resilient and she had no doubt the toddler would thrive in an environment where she could play and explore to her heart’s content, but Olivia would definitely miss having her around all the time.

Once Quigley had settled in with his brother, sister and aunt, the Baudelaires were quick to arrange another meeting to finally get to meet the third triplet, whom they’d heard so much of. The bonds of friendship between the Baudelaires and the Quagmires had become unbreakable with everything they had endured together and Olivia had a sneaky suspicion that in the future they would be a force to be reckoned with within the V.F.D.

Seeing the six children together, safe, reunited and cared for had also done wonders for Jacques’ state of mind and Olivia couldn’t help but smile as she thought of her husband.

He was her husband now in every sense of the word and the past weeks had been filled with more  happiness and tenderness than she could have ever anticipated. Jacques absolutely doted on her and Olivia, who hadn’t had anyone dote on her in her life, hadn’t been prepared for how safe and special it would make her feel.

Jacques Snicket had shaken her quiet, lonely, well-organized life completely upside-down, but once they had finally admitted their feelings for each other, they had embarked on the greatest adventure of all: their own lovestory. And it was everything and then so much more than she could have ever imagined.

It was waking up with a thrill of excitement every morning because they were together. It was lying in his arms, late at night, wrapped up securely in his embrace and still not wanting to go asleep because she didn’t want to miss a second of being with him.

It had taken her a little over thirty years, but now she had all the family and love she could wish for.

When she drove up to the townhouse she immediately noticed something was out of the ordinary. The steps towards the front door seemed to be bathing in a soft light, but no matter how much she squinted, she couldn’t quite make out what was causing it.

Around her the car had become very quiet.

Once she had parked the taxi in front of the house and she was able to get a better look she blinked in surprise at the glass jars filled with flowers and lights that were placed all the way up to the front door, leaving a path for someone to walk through.

“Right, there has been a slight change of plans,” Kit announced, her eyes dancing with excitement. “You need to hand the keys of the cab to Jacquelyn. We are going to take the kids out for pizza, a movie and an insane amount of ice-cream and you should go inside.”

“But how… what…?” Olivia stammered, her mind running a mile an hour. Jacques had mentioned  a surprise, but what on earth could he have planned?

“Just go!” Kit urged. “Knowing Jacques, he’s probably ready to combust from nerves… he’s been planning this for weeks, driving everyone up the wall with his perfectionism…”

“You’re going to love it,” Violet added.

“I… all right…” With shaking hands Olivia opened the door and slipped out of the car, the cold air of the afternoon welcome on her suddenly flushed cheeks. Five faces were pressed against the window, waving and urging her on and she took a few shaky steps towards the house.

The softly sparkling lights amidst the flowers gave the whole scene something magical and as she slowly walked up the path she could feel her heart fluttering nervously. The front door was slightly ajar and once she’d pushed it open fully she gasped in shock at what she saw. The flowers and lights outside had only been a little prelude to what was waiting for her inside.

The entire hallway was filled with flowers of all shapes and colors. They were arranged in tall vases and small jars, interspersed with sparkling, twinkling fairy lights that were glowing softly. The air was filled with a sweet, flowery fragrance and Olivia inhaled deeply, tears already stinging her eyes.

The flowers were arranged in such a way that they were creating a path that she followed slowly, turning around in circles every now and then to take it all in. The path lead to the stairway which was also completely covered in flowers and lights. Ascending carefully, Olivia realized this must have taken Jacques hours and hours to put together.  

Halfway up the stairs she noticed that books were starting to pop up between arrangements and she gasped in delight when she recognized her very favorite titles. There was Jack London’s ‘To build a fire?’ and several books by Samuel Beckett, an author she’d only just recently come to appreciate.

When she arrived on the second floor the path of flowers, lights and books led directly to the library and picking up her pace she hurried forward, her heart suddenly beating furiously.

The inside of the library looked more like a garden than an actual library and Olivia paused on the threshold, completely gobsmacked, trying her hardest to take everything in. Books were placed artfully in colorful displays of flowers and attached to the ceiling was a canopy entirely constructed out of flowers, fairy lights and books.

Underneath that canopy stood Jacques, wearing a dashing tuxedo and a nervous smile.

“Jacques!”

Suddenly she couldn’t get to him soon enough and she rushed forward, almost tripping in her heels.

He reached out to catch her, his arms coming securely around her and she looked up into his face, feeling light-headed and giddy.

“What’s all this then?” she asked breathlessly, grinning so hard her cheeks ached.

Smiling at her he bend down and brushed his lips against her, the affectionate gesture making her stomach flutter.

“I got to plan a surprise for you, remember?” he asked, his voice low.

Twisting slightly into his arms, Olivia looked around the room once more, trying to take in as much as possible.

“It looks amazing…” she said quietly. “All those flowers… and the books… they’re all new, aren’t they?”

Her gaze fell on a beautiful, hardcover edition of ‘Waiting for Gadot’. She had borrowed Jacques’ copy a few weeks ago after he had told her it was his absolute favorite book and she had instantly agreed with him that it was indeed brilliant.

Reaching out, she gently stroked the spy, almost as if she were petting the book.

“You deserve a copy of your own,” Jacques told her, before taking a deep breath, clearly steeling himself.

Immediately all thoughts of books were miraculously gone from her mind and she stared at him wide-eyed, her heart beginning to hammer furiously as he took her hands in his.

“Olivia, the first time I saw you, running after that trolley outside of Mulctuary Money Management I knew instantly just how special you were. And of course I messed up straight away…” He gave her a rueful smile and she blinked at him in surprise.

“I was supposed to approach you and show you a picture of a baby,” Jacques explained. “That’s how we usually recruit adult volunteers. But instead of braking, I accidentally hit the gas pedal when I first saw you and instead I almost ran you over…”

She couldn’t help but laugh at that, letting go of one of his hands so she could stroke his face. “I never knew that…”

Laughing as well, he turned his head to kiss the inside of her wrist. Then his expression became more sober. “Yes, well… my point is, I loved you right from the start and I know you don’t want me to say it anymore, but I hate that I ever made you feel, even for a moment, that I was indifferent towards you.”

“Oh Jacques…” No matter how often she told him that they had both made mistakes and that they were both responsible for the crossed wires in the first months of their marriage, Jacques was still having a hard time letting go of that guilt.

“I love you more than I have ever loved anyone before in my life,” he continued, his voice turning slightly hoarse.

And in that moment she was done for it. The tears that had already been so close started to roll down over her cheeks, their paths interrupted by the creases of her smile.

“You’ve given me a home and a family again and I swear that I will treasure you always. In the past few months I have thought on a few occasions that our story was over…” his voice caught at the last word and then there were tears on his face as well.

“I thought it was over but…” his voice cracked again and ended on a dry sob and he shook his head and clasped her hands tighter.

“I had a bit more speech prepared,” he confessed, chuckling through his tears. “Bear with me, this might take a while…”

Olivia was crying openly now, her vision blurring with tears.

Taking another deep breath, Jacques managed to go on: “I know now that we have only just begun. And I am so happy that we get to write a new chapter every day that we are together. Of course I realize that I never actually asked you if you wanted that, so…”

He let go of her left hand and reached into his pocket and Olivia’s eyes went wide as she realized what he was about to do.

From the inside pocket of his tuxedo he pulled a square, black velvet box and as he popped it open, he sank down to the floor on one knee.

The ring, with its citrine gemstone on a band of gold was  absolutely gorgeous and Olivia was instantly in love wit it. But more than anything else she was aware of the man kneeling in front of her, his dark eyes trained on her face, his hand firmly clapped around hers.

“Olivia, you’re the love of my life and I want nothing more than to make you happy. So I’m asking you, will you let me? Will you let me be your husband and will you be my wife?”

He was actually looking nervous, as if there was even the slightest possibility that she would ever refuse him.

“Yes!” She was laughing, crying and sobbing at the same time and she must look like a mess, but at her answer Jacques’ face split into the biggest, most wondrous smile she’d ever seen on him. Taking the ring out of its cushion, he very carefully slid it on her ring finger, the ring fitting as if it was made for her.

Then he was coming up just as she was falling into his arms and she buried her hands into his hairs as his lips hungrily sought hers.

He loved her. And with his arms around her and his mouth pressed against hers Olivia knew without a trace of a doubt that he would always love her.

Just as she would always love him.

Their story was far from over yet.

[oldguardaudio]

Rush Limbaugh tells us why 90% of Americans Support Trump’s Infrastructure Stimulus

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rush-limbaugh @ Old Guard Audio

Mar 9, 2017

  RUSH: We have a couple of surveys out here that have a lot of people stymied, and one of them is from Quinnipiac University. Ninety percent of the people surveyed favor Trump’s trillion-dollar infrastructure spending bill. Ninety percent. Ninety percent of Republicans. Ninety percent of Democrats. Ninety-one percent independents. Ninety-two percent men. Eighty-eight percent women. Ninety-two percent white college graduates agree.

So it’s overwhelming. And there are people out there trying to figure this out ’cause it doesn’t jibe. Republicans, 90% favor trillion-dollar government stimulus. This is not just Trump voters. This is everybody. And it doesn’t make sense, because all of these years everybody has assumed that it’s Republicans and conservatives who would oppose this in numbers close to 90%. And yet here they are supporting it. It’s not a surprise that 90% of Democrats would support this, but that 90% of Republicans, slash, conservatives has got people pulling their hair out.

CNN with basically the same question. Seventy-nine percent approve of the government spending a trillion dollars on infrastructure. Seventy-two percent Democrat, 79% Independent, 87% Republican approval in the CNN poll. Why do you think this is? ‘Cause a lot of people are saying, “This doesn’t make any sense. Look at the numbers of Republicans that opposed Obama’s stimulus.” Now, I think it’s easy. I think the explanation here is easy. And it’s one of the reasons that people are rock-ribbed ideological miss what’s happening.

Some of these rock-ribbed Republicans and conservatives are still trying to figure out how Trump won. So they’re still in a state of confusion over that. Well, let’s compare the two stimuli. The Obama stimulus, otherwise known as the Porkulus bill, was never going to be spent on the claims Obama made: rebuilding roads and bridges and schools. Everybody knew, on the Republican side, because they know who Obama was and is. Obama is a Big Government liberal, and when Big Government liberals spend Big Government money, it’s usually spent on welfare or similar type things.

In the case of Obama’s stimulus, most of it went to union groups state by state by state. They weren’t any new roads built, other than those already scheduled to be repaired and built. There weren’t any new school repairs, and there weren’t any bridges. None of the things that Obama got the money for actually happened. But Trump has been very specific about what he wants to use this money for. He wants to rebuild roads, bridges, and he makes a point of airports. And he talks about how dilapidated they are compared to other modernized airports in other places around the world.

And I think all this reflects is a realization on the part of American people. The American people, many of them, and particularly on the Republican side, think the country is falling apart in a whole bunch of different ways. We’re falling apart culturally. We are falling apart in our politics. We’re falling apart politically. And I believe it’s nothing more complicated than people actually do think that we need to modernize some things in this country. And I believe that if you would deeply ask these people, if you would find these people that make up the people saying 90%, say, agree with the premise, you would find that the vast majority of them think that this is a legitimate responsibility for government, state and federal combined, to make sure that the airports are modernized and not falling apart, to make sure bridges are not gonna collapse down the road, to make sure dams are okay. The stuff that people assume government does anyway, that’s government’s responsibility, state and local.

I mean, the private sector gets hired to do these projects. That’s another aspect of this. You’re gonna spend a trillion dollars, but who’s gonna get it? It’s gonna go to jobs, it’s gonna go to contractors, it’s gonna go to people who get hired to build and rebuild and refurbish these various projects. This money is literally going to end up — I think people trust Trump on this — this money is literally going to end up in the economy. It’s going to end up as commerce. It’s going to create jobs. It’s going to have demonstrable upside results.

I think it’s just a simple matter of trusting Trump when he says this is what he’s gonna do, plus he’s a builder. And they look at Trump’s properties, they see the buildings and other things that Trump has built, and they are all modern, and they’re all state-of-the-art, and they all look cool. And this is what Trump’s expertise is. And I think people agree with Trump when he runs around complaining about the state of infrastructure in this country.

As he points out himself, you can’t drive along the FDR, head up by Yankee Stadium on your way to the George Washington Bridge, you can’t help but look up at some of those tunnels and bridges and wonder how many days they’ve got left before they start to fall apart. They’re rusted out here. You can’t miss it just looking at it. You go through the Lincoln Tunnel, the Holland Tunnel and you see whole sections where the bricks have fallen, and you wonder, did they fall on a car driving in front of you? What happened? Where are those missing tiles?

Those bridges and tunnels, the tunnels particularly, have been there for who knows how long. In some cases, yeah, you gotta go back to Robert Moses who got the Triborough Bridge built and all these things in New York. In some cases it’s a hundred years for some of these things and there hasn’t been any modernizing. People see this each and every day. You go to the airports in this country, and it’s a ditto.

You know, I’ve got Apple TV, and Apple TV has a bunch of screen savers. If you put the setting to download new screen savers every month, then you get new ones, and what they are are 4K — well, you can’t get 4K in the — They’re high-definition, slo-mo drone footage of some of the most beautiful places in the world. That’s the screen saver for Apple TV. And I noticed in the last three weeks that there are cities and airports that I’ve not seen. I take pictures of these and try to find, where is that? And most of them are in Asia. Many of them, some of the stuff in Hong Kong, some of the stuff in the United Arab Emirates, Abu Dhabi, Dubai.

We have nothing like it in this country. Skylines of cities in Malaysia put us to shame. Now, don’t misunderstand what I’m saying. I’m saying it’s patently obvious to anybody who observes that we haven’t modernized a whole lot of our infrastructure in many, many years, and yet people are very aware of how much money has ostensibly been allocated for it. Then you add the experience people have at the airport with the TSA and with the hassle it is to get to the gate, get on your airplane, and what you have to walk through to get there and so forth.

I think it all resonates. I think 90% of the people in this country are common-sensical and realize that we have fallen way behind on simply maintaining the status — you know, the Golden Gate Bridge, I’m fascinated with the Golden Gate Bridge. I have been to the top of the South Tower. When I lived in Sacramento, I on the air expressed the desire countless times, especially after I saw the movie A View to a Kill, which they ostensibly staged a fight scene on top of the North Tower. They did, actually. And I met somebody in the highway patrol who arranged for me to get to the top of the South Tower of the Golden Gate Bridge.

And the way you do it is this. You drive down there to the bridge and you go to the bridge authority office and you get in the golf cart. They know you’re coming. It’s all preset. Get in the golf cart, and they drive you out to where the South Tower intersects the bridge, and you go in a hatch like you would find on a submarine, and inside there is an elevator that holds two people. And it’s not a luxury elevator. It’s a construction elevator with a floorboard and not much on the side or top.

I had a little video camera and I had to put my camera on top of my head and hold my arms up for the other people in the elevator to have room. It goes very slow. You go up there, and you can hear the bridge moving with the traffic and the wind. It’s dark. Every 10 or 20 feet is a 10-watt lightbulb. And you just keep going and going, because it’s slow. When the elevator stops, you’re still not there. You have to climb a 30-foot ladder to get to a hatch that opens like a literal hatch at the top of a submarine that’s wide enough for one person to go. Then you finally climb up to that ladder, 30 feet, 20 feet, whatever it is. It’s a straight-up ladder. It’s not a stepladder. It’s a ladder built onto the side of some wall in there. You climb up there, and there you are, you’re on the top.

I looked at this and I imagined building this in the Great Depression. And they got it done, along with the Bay Bridge, in four years. And it has withstood everything the world’s climate has thrown at it. It’s painted every day. It’s constantly painted. They never are not painting it or doing maintenance on it. It requires it, all the fog, the rust prevention that they have to do. I got an education on just how many cables, the strength of the cables that are anchored on both sides of the bridge in the earth to support the cables and the roadway that’s supported by the two towers.

It just impressed upon me how difficult building that bridge was, especially with the technology we didn’t have back in the 1930s when this was done. And that bridge has been maintained. That bridge is every bit as functional and as new, modern as it was when it opened. But look what it takes for that. But you can’t say that about a lot of the other infrastructure in the country. I’m only focusing on the Golden Gate Bridge ’cause I’m fascinated with it. I’m sure there are other places just as good, just as maintained, not trying to slight anybody here. I’m sure the George Washington Bridge — well, no, I’m not. (laughing) I’m not. But that’s only because I haven’t studied it. And the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge is even bigger than the Golden Gate, even longer than that.

But I just think people are very attuned to the fact that the United States is not keeping pace. And yet they’re aware of how much money this government spends on stuff. And then they read the other day where California just spent a hundred million dollars in legislative bills on fairness? And, meanwhile, they’re worried the Oroville Dam is not gonna hold up, but we’ve spent a hundred million dollars on fairness? Believe me, more Americans than you would know are aware of this kind of stuff and think it’s long past time the United States got its act together and modernized airports and made sure that bridges were shored up or were not gonna plummet or collapse. Same thing with potholes in highways.

Look at New York City. How many people live in a block? You have a couple skyscrapers, condos and apartments. Thousands of people living in a block. The streets ought to be paved in gold with the tax revenue just for the block! They aren’t, obviously. But a trillion dollars to make America great again, people in this country think that’s a valid investment. But a trillion dollars to buy votes for the Democrat Party, no way. That isn’t gonna help them.

BREAK TRANSCRIPT

RUSH: Somebody here wants to weigh in on the stimulus and why 90% support it. This is Klein in Des Moines, Iowa. Welcome to the program. It’s great to have you here, sir.

CALLER: Thanks Rush. I just wanted to mention that the first thing that popped in my head when you mentioned that 90% is most people understand that Trump’s gonna get three times more done with that money than any other politician would have.

RUSH: Do you really think that? I mean, that’s a specific thing to say. You think people are confident Trump is going to actually get three times the value for that trillion dollars?

CALLER: Yeah, I do. And it’s actually gonna get done. You know, right now they do so many surveys and studies and spend half the money, and then a year later it’s yet to be even started. And I think Trump’s actually gonna —

RUSH: Well, that’s true. The lawyers get their share, and then the environmentalists get their share, and there’s a whole bunch of different hands in any kind of allocation or spending, appropriation, and by the time you end up with a net amount, it’s way below what has actually been appropriated, ’cause so many people are taking their cut out of the deal. Well, anyway, thanks. I appreciate it. It’s interesting.

I don’t doubt that people are confident Trump will get it done. That’s why he was elected. He’s a builder. I don’t doubt that people believe it’s needed. But the real thing here, folks, maybe I should emphasize this again. Let’s go back to what the traditional ideological divide in the country is. You would think that the automatic response to this by Republicans and conservatives would be to oppose it. “Government? Trillion dollars?” In the first place, they would ask, “Where we gonna get the money? We don’t have the money!”

The second thing they would say is, “It’s not the government’s job, for crying out loud, we’ve spent our whole career, we’ve written, we’ve established think tanks, whole identities predicated on the fact that we oppose this kind of stuff and now all of a sudden you’re for it?” So they’re scratching their heads trying to figure this out. It boils down to one reality, and that is most people are not ideological, sadly. They’re not.

But I think the reason why those old rules of thumb don’t apply here, and the polling data, if we choose to believe it, indicates it doesn’t apply, how in the world can 90% of Republicans and 91% of independents support the government growing by a trillion dollars? Which is essentially what we’re talking about here. And I think it boils down to substance. I think people have certain beliefs in the role of government. What is it for? And in many cases, it’s kind of like definition of federalism, which that word causes most people to misunderstand what it actually is.

Federalism actually is the system where the states and local communities do the vast majority of things under the belief that people closest to a situation should be the ones to deal with it, to resolve it, repair it, fix it. The other part of federalism is that by virtue of our founding, the federal government’s supposed to be distant and involved in as little as possible.

The federal government is only supposed to do the things no one else can do, such as wage war. The states cannot wage war. There would never be unity. The federal government has to wage war. The federal government has to provide for the national defense. The states can’t do that. But when it comes to things like bridges and highways, well, the national highway system, the Interstate Highway System, that again was the federal government. The states could not have done that themselves unless all 48, 50 would have gotten together. I’m sorry, 57 had gotten together. But the federal government can get it done, design it and so forth.

Federalism is where anything the federal government shouldn’t do or can’t do, the states do. Well, that’s the opposite of liberalism. Liberalism wants to give as much as possible to the federal government. There was a story the last couple of weeks, transgender bathroom bill. Trump signed an executive order taking the federal government out of the equation. He sent it back to the states and he said you people figure this out.

If the people in Minnesota want anybody to be able to use any bathroom because they identify as a boy or girl on a given day, you decide. The governor of Minnesota was livid. He didn’t want it. He wanted some distant capital mandating it, taking the heat off of him. He wanted transgender bathrooms, but he didn’t want to be on the hook for it. He’s a liberal Democrat governor. He wanted Washington to mandate it.

This is the difference. Liberals want Washington mandating as much as possible. Federalism says, nope, the federal government you don’t even see if it’s a state or local issue. Well, you know as well as I do that the federal government is involved in so much that you can’t shake a stick at it. And it’s gotten way big, too powerful, and so forth.

Now, this proposal of modernizing roads, bridges, airports, I think these are the kinds of things that most Americans think the federal government’s gonna have to direct it to get it done. But you’re saying, “Rush, airports are not national, and bridges are not.” Which I think offers up something else fascinating. Trump has said that there’s going to be a mixture of federal and state and local private revenue. And people start hearing that, they shake their head, “Well, what? Private revenue?” Yeah. “How’s that gonna work?”

Well, Trump hasn’t explained it yet, but we might be able to imagine what it would be. Partial equity for helping to rebuild a building or a bridge or a road or modernizing a portion of an airport. The point is, it isn’t all gonna be federal money by the time Trump gets around to actually proposing what this is. But I think most people that voted for Trump, and apparently a lot of people that didn’t, really believe this is necessary, bottom line really think that it is a proper role for government.

Now, if you take the trillion dollars and you just start pork barrel spending it, that 90%’s not gonna stay 90%. I think it also means that people do not yet associate Trump with traditional Washington behavior, among things at the top of that list would be pork barrel spending. I think they genuinely believe that Trump is a get in, get out, and fix it, move on to something else kind of guy. I don’t think they see Trump as a traditional politician. That’s why he was elected.

But you have some lifelong Democrat like Obama come along and propose this, and the suspicions are immediate because of experience guided by intelligence. We know what Democrats do with all this big money, and we never see anything modernized, we never see anything fixed. All we see is constituents of Democrats paid off and strengthened.

It’s like the story we had last week. Do you remember when I passed on to you what happens to most of the corporate fine money under the Obama administration? Corporation X commits a crime or a violation, such as BP oil, the oil spill in the Gulf. And so here comes the Obama administration. And after they’re found guilty, the Regime sends the DOJ, the attorney general out to send a message: Okay, we’re gonna fine you. You got two options here. You can pay $50 billion — I’m picking a number here — $50 billion to the United States Treasury or you can pay $20 million to Planned Parenthood.

Well, if you’re BP oil, what are you gonna do? You mean $50 billion to you or $20 million to plan? Yep. I’ll send the $20 million to Planned Parenthood. The Obama administration was using fines to underwrite left-wing, extremist, radical groups. It’s one of the reasons they sought corporate violations. Corporations would roll over. I mean, the federal government comes calling, the Department of Justice, you’re all over. It’s easier to pay ’em the money than to fight ’em ’cause they’ve got all the money they need to hire lawyers ’cause they got a printing press. Corporation doesn’t, they got stockholders.

I don’t think people associate anything like that with Trump. They take him seriously so far. They think he’s being straight with ’em. And when he says he’s gonna modernize this, he’s gonna build a wall, whatever he’s gonna do, they trust that he’s gonna do it. That’s why this health care thing is kind of important, and he’s out there tweeting (paraphrasing), “Stick with me on this. First Phase, it’s gonna be beautiful when we’re finished with it. It’s gonna be wonderful. Don’t doubt me.” He’s tweeting this out to conservative groups and others who are not cool with this health care reform bill as they know of it right now.

BREAK TRANSCRIPT

RUSH: We had an audio sound bite on the program yesterday from Salena Zito, the reporter and columnist for the Washington Examiner. She’s written in the New York Post, the Pittsburgh Tribune Review. She made a name for herself during the campaign by going into all of the small towns that she could in interior Pennsylvania and Ohio, many traditional Democrat states, and she saw nothing but Trump signs.

She found people, Democrats, independents, just could not wait to vote for Trump. She, therefore, believed Trump was going to win even before the convention. She thought Trump was gonna win in September 2015, based on the people she was talking to. And she’s continuing to go back and talk to these people. And they haven’t changed. They have not soured on Trump. They have not softened. They have not lost any enthusiasm.

And in fact she has a column that ran the New York Post yesterday about all this, and this goes to why so many people that voted — actually it’s people that didn’t vote for Trump, too, in the Quinnipiac poll who support to the tune of 90% Trump’s trillion-dollar infrastructure bill. The headline of her piece: “Trump’s Voters Have High Hopes Even if They Don’t Expect Miracles.” And I think that says it all. They’re not expecting miracles. And this is where the anti-Trump forces are missing it again.

They think Trump is gonna have to hit a grand-slam home run and come through specifically on every promise he made or else Trump voters will abandon him. That’s what they’re hoping on and counting on, and they are wrong. And they’re wrong because they still do not understand the people who voted for Trump. They still hold those people in contempt.

And they’re not interested in getting to know them, they’re not interested in understanding them. They don’t want them to win ever again. They don’t care what those people think. There’s nothing to learn from them. They’re just the nameless, faceless rabble that make up the population of the country, but that’s all they are to the Washington establishment.

“Trump’s Voters Have High Hopes Even if They Don’t Expect Miracles.” And her date line here is Mingo Junction, Ohio. Just one of the countless places that she toured during the campaign, and now as I say she’s going back to these places.

“Many people living in this town of used-to-be’s don’t expect their community will ever return to its glory days. They don’t anticipate the return to a downtown of bustling businesses patronized by a well-paid middle class working at the Wheeling-Pittsburgh Steel plant. They want a little fresh paint on the vacant buildings, to cover up the sorrows lining the main business district’s ironically named Commerce Street.

“And they’re not expecting magic from President Trump. ‘All we need is to invest in ourselves with some small businesses up and down the street, and we’ll be fine,’ said Rich Grimm, a retired steel worker. Grimm is aspirational, pragmatic about the return of steel or coal jobs, and determined.”

All these people are Democrats. She makes it a point to speak to mostly Democrats. These people just want a change in direction. They just want America to be what it was when they were growing up. They want to live in a place they think is getting better all the time. They want to live in a place that even though there’s drastic change, that there is adaptation to it, the opportunity to adapt.

Okay, so Main Street shuts down, but what’s gonna take its place? Why does our community have to die? We don’t want our community to die. And in Trump they believe that he has them in mind when he talks about making America great again. So again, the strict ideological analysis of this is people are gonna miss the boat if that’s how they continue to look at this.

And, look, folks, it’s tough. I mean, I know some rob ridiculous conservatives who love Trump who are still, “What is this trillion dollars, I can’t get any arms around it. We’re not supposed to support this. I don’t get this localism. I don’t get this partnership, government, what do you mean, user fees? How is all of this gonna work? It doesn’t make any sense. I don’t understand the government spending a trillion dollars. Why are we for it? I don’t understand.”

And the confusion there is all rooted in this is just not something we Republicans or conservatives we’re supposed to automatically reject this because the result of this is not something we support, government getting bigger. And I think that’s also the key. If this money is spent outside Washington, how’s Washington getting bigger?

I’m trying to tell you how I think people are looking at this. And I think part and partial to understanding this, understanding public opinion on this, is being honest with what people outside Washington actually think of it and have thought of it for a long time. They don’t trust it. They don’t like it. They don’t believe in it. They don’t think they have any impact on what happens there. Along comes Trump. Boom. In their minds, things have changed.

BREAK TRANSCRIPT

RUSH: Just got an email. I’m not gonna mention the airport. “It’s like going to the Third World. English is the second language!” Yeah, I know. I know; that’s exactly my point.

Rush Limbaugh tells us why 90% of Americans Support Trump’s Infrastructure Stimulus Rush Limbaugh tells us why 90% of Americans Support Trump’s Infrastructure Stimulus Mar 9, 2017 RUSH: We have a couple of surveys out here that have a lot of people stymied, and one of them is from…