#and I had to take the coldest shower of my life I don’t even wanna kno how titanic felt

[ylove-bandaesthetics]

Alrighty my loves! So sorry for the lag lately! We’ve had a power outage where I live for nearly 3 days and it was absolutely terrible because the weather outside is freezing cold, we’ve been experiencing a lot of storms and its even started snowing here in Cali which is very rare! 🥶❄️

Anyways! I started working on random aesthetic challenge requests again today! Hoping to post them tonight/tomorrow! And speaking of that, today is the very last day to send them in while you still can! So make sure you guys do! LOVE YOU ALL DARLINGS! ✨🖤✨

[nuhogom]

That Dang Blue Shirt

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Warning: Cursing, Orgasm Denial

Member: Shownu

Prompt: Seeing Shownu in that shirt for their cover of My House by 2PM got me 🥴

Author’s Note: I originally wrote this for only my eyes to see, but after some contemplation I decided to use it! I hope you guys enjoy this fic ❤️

You sat to the side of the filming, enjoying watching you boyfriend in his element. Today was a calm schedule and so he decided to invite you. What you weren’t expecting was his outfit. He looked absolutely sinful as you pressed your thighs together. The loose, blue button up complimented his skin an unreasonable amount. The black slacks he had on were loose also, but you could see his well defined thighs through them. You watched the muscles in his arms flex as he rolled his sleeves up, exposing his tanned and muscular forearms. You eye him as he grabbed a worker’s wrist, pulling her along with the cameras to get that “boyfriend vibe”. You were maybe just a little jealous at his skin touching hers...just a little bit. You smiled at him as he looked over at you, his eyes crinkling with a smile in reply.

That man absolutely took your breath away in so many ways. The heat from today wasn’t helping your current situation either. You let Kihyun know you were headed to the bathroom, in need of some cooling off in two different ways. You reached the bathroom in desperate need, turning the water onto the coldest setting and splashing your face. You groaned as you looked at yourself in the mirror, not wanting to return to the sidelines. You sucked in a big breath, letting it go seconds later. You dried your hands, unlocking the door and opening it. You were greeted with your boyfriend casually leaning against the wall, his legs crossed as he played with his shirt. The sound of the bathroom door opening made him look up.

“Are you okay?” He asked, taking one stride towards you and being centimetres apart. You nodded, smiling up at him.

“Of course! I just needed a break from being outside. Too hot,” you replied. He nodded, looking down at you intimately. His hands wrapped around your hips, pulling your body flush against him.

“Babe! You’re at work!” You squeaked.

“Mhm. I know. I just wanted to give you a kiss. That okay?” He asked, hands squeezing your sides. You nodded and that was all he needed. His lips were quick on yours, massaging them and pushing his tongue into your mouth. You gasped at his forceful action, his tongue taking that moment to push deeper.

“Shownu?!” You heard Jooheon yell, looking for Hyunwoo. Your boyfriend pulled away, leaving you gasping for air.

“What the hell?” You whispered, trying to catch your breath.

“That sundress looks so pretty on you. I couldn’t wait another minute not touching you,” he mumbled, pressing tiny kisses to your jaw. You laughed breathlessly, hands sliding from his neck to his chest.

“Shownu? They need you!” Jooheon called again, his voice was closer. Hyunwoo completely ignored him.

“Okay, well. While we’re confessing here. That shirt looks very good on you,” you spoke. You slid your hands up to his shoulders and down to his biceps, squeezing them. He smiled against your jaw, pressing a wet kiss to it at your words.

“After this schedule I’m free today,” he said, his hands leaving your waist and rubbing at your arms soothingly.

“Mm. Then wanna go to mine tonight?” You asked.

“Bro! There you are! Stop making out! They need you for our kitchen scene!” Jooheon said, looking between you two. Hyunwoo let go of you, putting some distance between you two.

Hyunwoo bent down to give you a chaste kiss and mumbled an “I’ll see you at yours!”

You smiled back and nodded. “I’ll head home to clean my apartment a bit and freshen up, okay?”

“Broo!!” Jooheon whined.

“Just stay in that dress!” Hyunwoo commanded.

Jooheon scrunched his eyebrows together and held up a hand in disgust. “I don’t want to know!”

Hyunwoo and you both laughed, allowing Jooheon to pull you two apart. You quickly gathered your things, telling the other boys you had to run. Hyunwoo’s manager walked you to your car, per your boyfriend’s request. You thanked him before shutting your door and driving off towards your apartment. You needed to tidy up your bedroom and living room and then shower.

————

Three hours, a shower and cleaning later, you heard your code being punched in. You anxiously sat on your couch, mindlessly watching some random show.

“I’m home, baby girl!” You heard him call out. You smiled to yourself as you sprawled out on the couch. He rounded the corner and caught your eyes. You smiled at him seductively as he quickly walked over to you. He sat down, your legs already on their way to straddling him.

“Where’s your pants?” You asked. The slacks he had before were gone and replaced with some of his own black jeans.

“They wouldn’t let me take them! I begged to keep the shirt and they finally caved!” He giggled. You nodded and leaned back just a little to admire him in the shirt. You grabbed his hand, kissing his knuckles. He sighed at the contact, throwing his head to the back of the couch. Your lips kissed up his hand, his wrist and to his forearm. You squeezed at the thick muscle, his veins becoming even more prominent.

“Baby girl,” he said firmly. You smiled at him, quickly kissing your way back to his fingers. You took two of his fingers into your mouth, slowly wrapping your tongue around them and coating them with your saliva. His free hand pushed your dress up and away, giving your ass a harsh slap. You jerked, grunting at the sensation.

“You like that, huh?” He taunted. You nodded as you made eye contact, popping his fingers out of your mouth. He pulled your arms through the sundress’s straps, lips pressing feathery kisses to your skin. You moaned at the gentleness and began rocking your hips back and forth. He grunted at the friction, lips stopping and eyes meeting yours. “What do you want?”

You closed your eyes in contemplation. “Slow, but also rough?”

“You got it, baby girl!” He lifted his hips, unbuckling his pants and allowing you to slide them down past his knees. You grabbed his dick, pumping it quickly and collecting precome from the tip.

“You’re so wet,” he commented as his hand fell under your dress and began massaging your sensitive heat. After your shower you didn’t put any undergarments on, wanting him to have quick access. You were now grateful for that thinking ahead. You moaned and clenched your thighs, his thumb halting movements. You stood up on your knees, aligning yourself. He fisted at your dress, bunching it up to the side so he could watch himself disappear inside of you. You both moaned at the feeling, his dick easily sliding deep into you. You huffed and tugged your dress off your chest, allowing your breasts to be free. Hyunwoo licked his lips, attaching them to your nipples. You arched into him at the sensation, grunting at the burn his dick gave you because of the movement. He looked up at you as he licked a bold strip between the valley of your breasts, causing you to jerk. The cold air hit the wetness, causing goosebumps.

You swallowed thickly as Hyunwoo grabbed a hold of your hips, pulling his hips back as he slid out, pushing back in all the way. You melted at the action, his arms holding you up as he pushed into the hilt. You opened your mouth in silent pleasure, his dick hitting just the right place.

“Are you okay?” He grunted out. You were dizzy with pleasure as he did that action again, only pushing back in at a harsher speed. You choked on air, grabbing at your breasts. He hummed in satisfaction, pushing your dress up higher. He watched as he continued to disappear inside of you, your quiet apartment only filled with sounds of his skin slapping yours. He trailed his hand up your back, threading his fingers through your hair.

“Look at me!” He forced your head down, making you look at your slickness and him pushing in and out of you. You whined at the sight, clenching around him as he gave a particularly rough thrust. You looked away and leaned back on his thighs, afraid you’d come right then. Your hands gripped at his muscle for leverage as you pushed yourself down onto him. His free hand slid down your sides, his thumb pressing against your core. He rubbed slowly, your hips jerking at the new sensation.

“I’m so close,” you warned. He only kissed your chest in reply, pushing you closer against him. Your nipples barely touched his chest, causing a new feeling to pulse through you at the barely there contact. Your breasts bounced at your movements, causing a whine to escape your throat.

“Don’t come yet, baby girl. I’m almost there,” he moaned. You nodded, gripping onto his thighs for dear life. His thrusts slowed and deepened, causing you to squirm for more friction. “Shit, where do you want me to come?” You let go of his thighs, fully connecting your chests and taking control. You bounced quickly, your knees aching. You ignored it, wanting to get your boyfriend off as quickly as possible.

You didn’t answer, locking eyes with him. You couldn’t even think right now. You felt him twitch inside of you, throwing your hips down and feeling his dick go painfully deeper. You cried out at the feeling, nails scratching at his back. He looked at you with concern as he saw tears form in the corner of your eyes, hands going to wipe them away. You shook your head, letting him know you were okay. He didn’t have time to think about the possible repercussions of coming inside of you until it was too late. You moaned loudly at the feeling, his come seeping out around himself. He grunted at the sight, his thumb making contact with you once again.

“Please, let me come,” you whimpered.

“Not quite, baby!” He smirked. He flipped so he was on top, his hand gripping a thigh tightly as he held your legs apart. He pulled out, rubbing his come coated dick against you. You moaned at the action, wishing for him to keep pushing into you. He took the hint, pushing only the tip in. You moaned in frustration, trying to push your hips up in retaliation. His firm grip on your thigh prevented that as he barely pushed in.

“Babe, just make me come!” You begged. He smirked down at you, suddenly pushing all the way in, grabbing your hips and holding you against his. You screamed out, feeling his dick hit the best place as you came around him. You jerked and whined, feeling yourself throb around him in satisfaction. A wave of nausea hit you and so you covered your mouth with a hand in precaution. He continued to hold your hips against his as you came down from your high. After you settled down, he pulled out, causing you to whimper at the loss. He rubbed himself against your core, causing you to jerk from sensitivity. He hummed to himself, pulling away from you entirely.

“You do know you could get pregnant, right?” You smiled up at him, nodding.

“What the hell?”

“Hey! Don’t blame me! You didn’t pull out! I didn’t even answer you because I was too blissed out!”

He huffed and ran a hand over his face in contemplation. “Well, I guess we might as well prepare?”

You laughed and rolled your eyes at his dramaticness, pulling him down for a kiss. “Wanna go for round two?” You whispered.

“Only if it’s in bed because this is so uncomfortable,” he whined. You laughed and agreed, sitting up and fixing your dress for the walk to your bedroom.

Tags: This is @ahuu request ❤️ I hope you enjoy!!

@yoohaemki @niall-imagines2

[cathrrrine]

RUN | Pietro x Reader

Originally from my Wattpad

CHAPTER 13 - MASK

major tw! // panic attack scene, cursing, mild verbal abuse

----

Natasha's grip on me was firm and her gaze on the back of my head was unwavering. My feet moved before me, heading towards whatever direction she shoved me to. She put me in handcuffs the moment she laid her hands on me, but frankly, I don't blame her.

"You punch a bag full of iron everyday or something?" I quipped, taking yet another turn with her less than gentle push.

"What?"

"Your grip. It's not exactly a wonderful experience."

"Huh." I could basically hear the eye-roll in her voice, "No, just a bag of linoleum. It's lighter."

Thrown aback by her quick retort, I snickered delightfully. Who knew Natasha Romanoff could make me laugh a little?

"Well, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger."

"Look at you, quoting Nietzsche." Her grip on me grew tighter. "Then maybe you won't mind if I do this, right? Doubt it'll kill you."

I winced, barely, but it was there and I had a feeling she noticed it. "I wish it would."

We stopped before a dark blue door, and she punched in a code at the keypad attached to the wall beside it before pressing a big red button. I heard a click sound and Natasha pushed the door ajar.

I stared at the room before me. It looked like...well, a room.

"What? No cell for me?"

She raised an eyebrow interrogatively and sighed, "Your cell is unfortunately under repair. Sorry, but you'll have to make yourself at home here now, Your Majesty."

I smirked, "Eh, I guess I'll make do. It's not too shabby."

She led me inside and locked the door behind us. I looked around almost automatically, scanning the area. The room was a little small, but it wasn't claustrophobic. There was a single bed attached to the floor by the corner with white sheets and a white pillow over it, a chair also attached to the floor and another door that left me no clue of what it would open to...a closet maybe?

No windows. No vents.

"You're not going to find it." Natasha's voice cut through the silence, slicing through it heavily like a blunt knife. "Your escape."

I looked over my shoulder to see her standing with her arms crossed, "I wasn't looking for an escape."

"Thought you were done with lying?" I sensed the beguilement in her tone.

I shook my head slightly, "I was just wondering why you brought me to this...room."

"This isn't a room. It's a cell."

A cell? This comfortable? "Ha-ha. You're hilarious."

"Yeah, I am. But I wasn't making a joke, this is a cell."

Holy shit, S.H.I.E.L.D must be flowing with money and extreme stupidity for them to keep their prisoners this comfortable. "Where I come from, we don't give the bad guys cells that look like these."

I saw her shrug out of the corner of my eye. "It depends on who's the bad guy we're talking about. Plus, we rarely have to put anyone in these cells." She didn't have to say it for me to know what she meant. They don't bring back prisoners.

"Well, yippee, it's my lucky day." I deadpanned.

Natasha had been staring at me the whole time. I turned to face her fully, daring her to make eye-contact. But the redhead continued to stare, unaffected.

"Hydra left quite the dent. Turned half of this building inside out."

"Sounds like em'."

"Your cell took a big hit. They blew a hole right through it, through the walls."

I froze. Did they know I was supposed to be there? Did he...come here to kill me?

On sight?

"They were looking for you, I assume."

My gaze dropped from her eyes to the floor, staring at my blood-covered shoes. Why is it that every time I think about him I cower in fear like a fool? I'm far from a coward. I hate the fact that even just the thought of that...monster, puts me in distress. I feel like a child again, and not the woman I am now.

Natasha was observing me, prompting me to answer with the intensity of her gaze. But I didn't have any answers to give.

"Sit down."

I looked up at her, only to find her pointing at the metal chair in the corner.

"Sit." She repeated, and I followed without question. I had no upper-hand here, and I didn't really want to have it. As soon as I landed my ass on the chair, she gripped my shoulders and looked me straight in the eye. What is it with this woman and eye-contact?

"If you try anything at all, I won't hesitate to kill you. You know that." She emphasised the last part. "You said you wanna stay alive? Then don't do anything stupid."

I nodded once, lips pursed. She proceeded to walk behind me to free me from my handcuffs.

Time seemed to slow down as I thought of a hundred different ways to knock her out right now. Maybe it wouldn't be easy, but it wasn't impossible. I could jump up and kick her in the face, or maybe toss myself backwards and grab her gun from her holster, shoot her from behind. I could kick her legs from below her and smother her with the pillow, or use my handcuffs to choke her to death. Or I could just throw a really, really good punch.

But she was right. I wanted to stay alive.

So, I sat still.

She uncuffed me and as soon as she did, she grabbed me by the elbow and ushered me to the mysterious door. She entered in a code at a keypad beside it, much like before, and pushed the door open to reveal a small bathroom.

"Go. Take a shower. There's a change of clothes ready for you on the counter."

I stared, dumbfounded. "I've only just agreed to work with you guys just a few minutes ago and you're already trusting me to take a shower without trying anything?"

She shrugged, "There's nothing useful in there. No sharp objects, no vents large enough anyone to fit through and the mirror isn't breakable glass. You try to escape, alarms will blare out and the oxygen in there will be cut-off immediately. So, either you die in there by suffocating, or you die when I come in and shoot you in the head. I don't trust you, but I do trust our system."

Figures. Stark Tech.

"FRIDAY's monitoring you too, thermal sensors. Now, go. Before I make you."

She didn't have to tell me a third time.

As expected, she locked the door behind me as soon as I went in. I stepped out of my bloody shoes and I stripped down my bloody clothes. It's funny how spent my whole life on this job, surrounded with nothing but murder and gore and yet I still get tired of seeing blood on myself every time. As if I could avoid it.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror–true to Natasha's word, it was far from fragile–and I ran my fingers across my face and through my hair. I had blood, bruises and dust all over me, like I've always had all my life. But I didn't recognise the woman in the mirror. She wasn't me.

But who was I really?

I've kept on this appearance for too long. It was a disguise that was growing old. It felt like a mask that was slowly melting onto my face, and it was asphyxiating me, burning the skin underneath it.

I've never worn a disguise for this long. This wasn't me. This was Lisa. Or was it Yvonne? Katya, Mila, Eve? I felt an odd sensation taking me under, almost like I was drowning. I felt myself tearing up, but I couldn't feel anything but...panic. Rising in my chest, expanding like a balloon. This was a familiar feeling, a problem I've had for far too long, but I never really knew how to solve it.

And then it all started to sink in, and it was like my body decided to finally register the pain that had built up over the last few days. But my mind wasn't along for the ride. I was hurt all over but mentally, I was numb. Or was it too much for me to handle?

The same question kept burning at the back of my head and it was all I could do not to scream and pull my hair out.

Who am I? Who am I? Who am I?

I wanted to sink to the ground and pull my knees to my chest until my brain stopped screaming at me, but I couldn't afford to have a mental breakdown in a S.H.I.E.L.D bathroom made for prisoners. It wasn't exactly like I had all the time in the world.

I ran the back of my hand over my cheeks, wiping the tears that I hadn't even cared to realise were falling. God, I looked like a helpless, pathetic thing. Felt like one too.

I stepped into the shower, turning the knob to the coldest setting and let it flow over me, desperately hoping it would wash everything including the pain away.

Am I not as strong as I was before? I've gone through so much to keep myself alive and away from them. From him. Had it all been for nothing? I've thrown myself at the hands of a secondary enemy. It was a desperate decision, but a necessary one.

But was it really? Was it worth it?

I shook my head, splashing more cold water to my face. I couldn't lose my mind right now. Not when I've already put my guard down. Why do I feel so helpless? Why do I feel like I'm making the wrong decision? Why do I feel like I'm slowly falling apart, piece-by-piece, and I don't even realise it's happening to me? Why do I feel like...a failure?

Please, God, please...don't let me lose my mind.

———

"Have you lost your mind?"

A click of a gun. The stomping of his boots.

"I was only trying to do what you told me to do."

A pair of furious eyes, always the same blue ones. They're always either angry, stoic or blank.

"You are not supposed to fail. I did not tell you to fail."

The mission wasn't supposed to go the way it did. The plan went askew but I completed the job, I checked off my requirements. What did I do wrong?

"I didn't fail."

He slammed his fist onto the table next to us, growling. I shouldn't have said that.

"You shot one of them in the shoulder. Did you miss your aim, agent?"

Fuck. "No, I did not sir."

"So, you did it on purpose?"

I messed up. I messed up. "I...I was-"

"You were careless." He sneered, eyes boring into me as I quickly averted my gaze to the floor. "You were negligent. You left someone alive."

I didn't dare move a muscle. He turned around, his back facing me.

"The order was 'to leave no trace'. You did exactly the opposite. Hydra does not stand for failure."

"I understand, sir. But please-"

He whipped his head around to stare at me. His movements were always so robotic, just like his voice. It was always unnerving. The look in his eyes sent a chill down my spine, and it took everything in me not to scream and make a dash for the door.

"Why."

I gulped. "Why?"

"Why did you not shoot him in the head?"

I shut my eyes, blinking furiously at the memory. It was a reckless decision, one that was idiotic and inadequate. He begged me for his life. 'Wife and 2 kids' he said. I don't know why I did it. I don't understand why I let myself do it. I acted like a spineless fool.

"He wanted mercy." I whispered, knowing that it was going to cost me.

"Mercy?" He uttered the words like they were foreign, the two syllables coming out of his mouth with complete and utter disgust. "Mer-cy?"

I nodded once. "I understand I made the wrong decision."

He seemed to process it in his head for a while. Then after only a second or two, he straightened his back and broadened his shoulders. There it was again, the robotic movements.

I watched in horror as he turned around and announced to the room, walking away with his boots stomping under him, a noise I've always dreaded ever since I met him.

"It seems you are not fit yet for missions, agent. Take her to her cell. I will report this immediately."

The cell? No, no, no...not the cell. Please. "Sir. I apologise for my misbehaviour, sir. I'll do better on my next mission, just, please don't put me back in my cell."

He didn't turn around. I never expected him to, every time this happened. But my voice had a mind of it's own and it always seemed to escape me. How could I expect for him to show me mercy if he condemned me for it?

I wanted to scream and kick and cry. I didn't want to go back to my cell. I couldn't. I fought against the arms that bound themselves around me, dragging me to hell. "Please! I promise. I won't fail next time. It was a mistake-"

"You should shut up." The agent man-handling me muttered under his breath.

The agent was right. The soldier didn't appreciate begging. I should shut up, but I couldn't stand the thought of being back in there. I let out a guttural scream. "Sir. Sir, please!"

He didn't look back, never did. I watched helplessly as he shut the door behind him. The glint of his metal arm was the last thing that blinded me before the darkness did.

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Twenty One | It's Showtime! (Part 2 of 3 | His POV)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

Alternate Chapter Title(s):

Saint Behind the Glass** (Song Referenced)

or

The Extra Corny One With A Second Song Title Reference, Part 2½**

• • •

**This basically reveals Part 2 and 3 were meant to be Chapter Twenty-Two at one point (similar to how various chapters from the old version of FaiCom have been merged together here), buuut each chapter has essentially took place on different days in this version, so...

Let's keep that format, shall we?

• • •

Something's wrong.

That single sentence continues to repeat itself over and over as he makes it from Ruins to Hotland with the human, who remains quiet and distant during the entirety of the walk.

They're obligated to take off their jacket and reveal a sweaty tank top midway through, leaving their arms bare, these they try to hide from his line of sight by crossing them and glancing aside. He wonders why they do that at first, until he witnesses how hefty and soft-looking their arms are, a noticeable difference compared to the toned muscles he often saw from those who worked at the Royal Guard. Whether the human felt unconfident of their appearance or vulnerable as a cause of the nightmare he assumed to be related to, Sans wasn't completely sure of. Either way, he's aware it's best not to bring that up currently. The ups and downs to their health and body had shown greatly through these past few months, and though they were recovering little by little, they seemed to be facing some more frequent downs, as of late. Their call from a few days ago and the weak state they were in as they climbed into the back seat of Papyrus's car were just enough to make him fear there's something bigger going on.

"Shoulda worn shorts or somethin'," he comments, noticing they already seem to be affected by the heat. Frisk ventured through a variety of climates with no trouble at all, yet their parent was showing signs of fatigue in their body within a few minutes into their walk through Hotland. The place had grown about twice as hot since he last visited, though he doubts the human will believe him if he were to say that out of nowhere. They could likely take it as him trying to console them for their inability to be stronger than him; or their own child, for that matter -- someone meant to see them as a role model rather than a frail and dependent person. "Wanna borrow some of mine?"

The human stares at him like he's made the most absurd suggestion there is, similar to that of mixing water with cereal or cooking steak in a toaster. "I swear, you test your luck with me a little too hard sometimes."

"I mean it, though."

"...We're not even dating yet."

"Yet," he says, mirth in his tone. "As in, there's still a possibility for us to become official?"

"Oh, stop it." They frown and fumble with the keys hanging from their satchel; he notices their nails are stubby, and bits of dried blood can be seen at the corners of plenty. "I… I don't know when you're being serious with me or not anymore."

"I meant that, too," he states, chuckling. "Would it be late if I told you I got that punch at the bar, 'cuz I had my head way in the clouds -- thinkin' about you?"

Sans receives no comment or reaction other than (Y/N) looking elsewhere and moving aside to walk a bit further from where he's at.

As a consequence, he takes a step closer, catches them with a 'hey', and reaches for their cheek when they look down at him. "...What's the matter? Your face's burnin'."

"We're in Hotland," they retort, rolling their eyes and brushing his hand away. "Ice's frozen. Water's wet. The sun's scorching-"

"-Just like you."

They walk off again, albeit with some struggle now that the heat of Hotland has combined with their embarrassment.

"And I'm not gonna wear your shorts. It would be a waste of time for me to take a break just because of some heat -- I'm not weak."

"Not sayin' you are. Just sayin' I don't want you to die from a heatstroke."

"Either way, I overlooked my situation, and I failed to prepare for it." A solemn look falls on their face, coupled with a firm posture. "I should've kept in mind my health, so it wouldn't be right for you to try redeeming my lack of preparedness. I should've asked Frisk or you more about this." They take in a breath and sigh it out. "...even if you can adapt to it just fine, and even if Frisk didn't have as much trouble to adjust as me."

Hot-headed and fiery might just be the finest ways to describe the human's current attitude, yet he very well knows making another joke about their temper -- combined with their hotness and the place they're currently at -- would be far too much. It wouldn't surprise him if they decided to call off the tour halfway through. Patience wasn't quite their main trait, though they practiced a sufficient amount of tolerance when it came to confronting his constant coquetry for the duration of those two months one of their coworkers mentioned in the chat; he can hardly believe it's been that long, and even less how close he was to kiss them that one time on the couch. More than sixty days of dealing with his presence had to be considered an achievement of some sort, even if their feelings were mutual. The monster's completely aware of how tiring and exasperating he can be on the often occasion, so he finds it best to start rationing how much he can be at once; too much of something's rarely ever good or effective, after all.

"But... Alright. Risking it would only make it worse, either way." Their gaze turns soft and they concede with a quiet huff. "Wouldn't we have to go allll the way back, though?"

"Not exactly," he replies, winking.

Sans proceeds to unzip his jacket and reveal a folded bundle of clothing underneath it.

"I know you can be stubborn sometimes, so I came prepared." He turns it over and adds, "There's a full set of clothes there, in case ya wanna freshen up at Met's old hotel before we keep goin'." His hands brush with theirs as they take the clothing from him. "It's been abandoned for a short while now, but I'm pretty sure the water's still runnin' well, for the most part." His gaze falls on their belongings again, and he gives into a cheekier grin as he continues with, "I've noticed somethin' about you, by the way."

"And what would that be?" they ask, mouth straight and tone wary.

He observes the satchel again -- the more-heavy-than-it-looks bag they almost always seemed to carry along with them, be it for something as typical as their job to something as simple as going out for a walk. What made it odd was knowing what contents could be found inside, these he has a vague recollection from when he had no other choice but to organize their bag after having gone through it when they fainted at the bus. Sans can still remember having rummaged through layers of Frisk's clothing, school supplies, and even a few monster-aimed medicines before setting the first aid kit back to its rightful place. The only things he could recall to be truly theirs were their cellphone, wallet, keys, and eyeglasses case. Going back to that memory makes him wonder -- were their priorities in the format of a list -- what number they would label themself with.

"You usually carry stuff in that bag meant for other people -- not you." He eyes the pocket with a few contents poking out from it. "...Or am I Ied to believe that bright pink Husky hairpin's yours?"

The human looks confused for a moment, until their eyes cast down at their bag and assess the pocket his gaze is most focused on. Then, they come across one of the smaller ones, where the mentioned accessory stays clipped to. "It- It's not! That's just in case Frisk needs it." They take it and hide it away in one of the bigger, emptier pockets. "It's their favourite hairpin, and they use it more often now that their hair's getting longer."

"But they ain't here right now."

"Yes, but what if they need it later -- when I go pick them up?"

He can barely contain the joy their overly defensive expression brings upon his face.

Perhaps it's pure projection or coincidence, but they appear to resemble the same dog he mentioned with the stance they hold, not threatening in the slightest and charming at best, but still ready to attack -- figuratively, of course. Hearty laughter escapes him, though he covers it up with a harrumph. "I'm surprised you don't carry the whole house with you, at this point."

"It doesn't hurt to be prepared."

"If only you applied that thought for you, too."

They swat his skull with their hand and let out a chuckle. "Don't nag me, teddy bear." Nonetheless, a more serious look overcomes them as they sigh. "You're right, though." With how quiet it gets and how long that pause lasts, it appears as if they've become lost in their thoughts. "Not only did the social worker suggest it, but it's not fair for me to keep bothering you or anyone else because of my..." They scratch their throat and grin. "...consistently questionable life choices."

"Is that a promise I'm hearin'?"

"A big and definite one."

• • •

Half-open windows help bring some clear air into the stuffy room, as does the air conditioner set to the coldest temperature possible by lessening the dryness and heat of the wind. It's all paired up with the scents of the fresh cinnabunnies and iced coffee he carries in some paper bags, food he bought at Snowdin while the human showered. Sans sets the meal by the nightstand, covers it up with some aluminum foil, and -- finally -- wipes a layer of dirt away from the mirrored dresser before assembling some toiletries on it. Then, he sits down in bed, closes his eye sockets, and waits. The sounds of his soul beating, the breeze blowing the curtains, and the shower running are the only melodies to take over the quiet of the hotel. Turning on the radio by the nightstand further assists those noises and aids in transforming the room into a more welcoming and cozy spot, overall. The last thing on his mental to-do list is to wait some more by checking his phone and updating himself on any new messages, some few from (Y/N)'s coworkers wishing him luck. A grin's inevitable as he reads through these a second time.

The shower turning off and a door unlocking are the next changes he notices, along with the radio switching from music to news.

Sans feels his breath tremble when the human steps out. They're dressed to the nines despite their attire being composed of the simplest clothing possible: a new pair of his below-the-knee shorts, these fitting slightly above theirs as a result of their taller height; plus one of his baggiest shirts, now almost at belly button length for the same reason as the first piece. What makes such a common attire seem so complex and thought-out is how well they've adjusted it to their figure; it's either that, or he has his head in the clouds again. Regardless, they knew how to fix an outfit, and it wasn't that of much surprise if he compared it to the time they pulled the same trick when borrowing some sleepwear from Toriel's wardrobe.

Or, then again…

He was slowly becoming infatuated with them and couldn't avoid finding them attractive -- no matter the clothing worn.

At the sight of (Y/N) having their back turned to him while they perform their finishing touches by the dresser, he approaches them as quietly as he can, yet he lets himself be seen halfway with the reminder of the nightmare they had and how startled they could likely be if he tried anything extreme. He goes to hug them from behind when they catch him getting closer, though they say and do nothing in response. Still, his expectations of no retaliation are promptly shattered as they turn around, grab his hands, and twirl him once, preventing the hug.

"Nice try, teddy bear," they comment, smiling. "Do try again next time." They wink.

It's a knockout when the radio decides to switch back to music, inspiring in them what he assumes is an urge to take their current hold on him to lead him into an impromptu dance.

"So… You want to get flirty with me again?" they ask, grabbing his hands tight as they sway him left and right at a rhythmic but easy motion. "Then you've got to handle me flirting back." One hand holds his left one up while the other places his right one on their waist. Theirs then falls on his shoulder when he keeps his where they placed it at, this one he has trouble keeping still with how close he is to touch their skin, part of their waist now more exposed with their movements, showing the “love handles” he'd teased them about since he first flirted with them. A subtle but no less playful smile stretches their lips; their eyes soften, though mischief flares in their gaze. "I've made the decision to trust you," they comment, twirling him around once more. "So if you'd like us to be official, we can, but…" Their steps slow down as they trail off in their thoughts.

He treads in with, "You need to wait until the CPS thing's over with, right?"

They nod. "Unfortunately."

Their sorrow stays brief and their playfulness returns, replacing their momentary frown for yet another smile. "My memory might be a bit bad though, as I've never heard you say you like me before." To further increment the effects of their teasing, their lips fall close to his teeth but end up lower, kissing his jaw instead. "...In other words," they add, hands locking firm around his neck and bringing him closer to them. "Speak now, or forever hold your peace."

Sans feels his face turn about as warm as theirs felt, and he can tell they've noticed, based on the way their face lingers close to his -- waiting.

"...I like you," he says, far too quiet to be labeled anything but a murmur; even a thought could be considered louder than his words.

They land another kiss, much closer to his teeth. "Couldn't hear you."

"I like you, puddin'," he repeats, stronger this time. "Can you, uh… do that again, though? It felt nice."

They nod, lean in further, and press yet another kiss to his face. "Gladly."

With that, the human carries on with the dance. They sway him left and right and perform small circles across the hotel room, adding a twirl every few seconds -- sometimes with them taking the lead, and vice versa. "I like you, too, Serif." Despite the meaning and weight of their words, a frown arrives on their face. "But…" They hesitate. "I still have some doubts, and I think that dream I had confirmed that."

"Would you like to talk about it?"

A few seconds of silence remain and the song ends, dropping tension in the room.

"Not now, but… But maybe later?" They let him go. "If possible, I'd like to talk at the Judgment Hall -- where you last worked before leaving the Underground."

Despite his best efforts, the skeleton can't avoid commenting, "Want me to judge how good you look right now?"

The human sighs, loud and long. "...Babe?"

"Yeah?"

"Stop."

He lets out a resounding, jovial laugh at that.

Their tone's genuinely sad, as so's their expression.

They look a hundred and ten percent done with him, though they still push forward with a, "Be serious for a moment, please. I… I really mean it, and that dream I had…" Demurral returns to their words. "It involved one of my fears about Frisk's safety, and well…" They take a deep, shaky breath. "A- And my own safety when I'm around you."

The severity of their statement dawns on him, and his view distorts itself from an attractive human to a vulnerable one standing in front of him, weak and poorly prepared -- completely alone with him in a large, abandoned, and dilapidated hotel. They were easy prey from the viewpoint of an Underground Sentry. He could easily take them captive with their current state of health and their lack of knowledge in combat. Were he still assigned to that job, had (Y/N) fallen in Frisk's stead, and were finding that seventh soul still a priority, he could just as easily inform every other member of the Royal Guard to bring the human down to the Monster King's bidding. Unlike Frisk, they had little to no determination left in their soul; a quick and direct intervention meant danger for them.

And had he still that same mindset to this day, his agreement with Asgore to serve and protect (Y/N) would be something he could break -- something simple to deal with if he framed the blame on someone else. He could just as likely tolerate some jail time for failing to fulfill his part of that job with no protest. The only real obstacle would be (Y/N)'s child themself, knowing they were likely going to guard and care for their parent unconditionally. But even then, they were still alone with him presently; in other words, he could cover up any potential evidence of him being a culprit with time to spare. Perhaps Frisk was the hero of the story, but (Y/N) was still an NPC -- someone easy to get rid of with the right amount of caution and preparedness.

"You mentioned something about Karma before, and well…" They break the silence and snap him out of those thoughts. "I've made a lot of bad choices and awful mistakes, so that makes me wonder if, m- maybe…" Tears form in their eyes as they breathe in -- once, then twice. "If maybe I don't deserve any of this kindness or forgiveness that I've been getting recently, and… And that maybe I don't belong in this story, y'know? Frisk has done all the work here so far, and they've overcome plenty of obstacles, too. Meanwhile, I- I'm a weak, ill person with a dead-end job -- trying to keep a holey row boat afloat with napkins." They let out a shaky sigh and fail at a smile. "I get that you like me, and I can't deny or ignore my own feelings for you, but I'm… I'm an unworthy, ungrateful person. We've known each other for barely half a year. Th- There's stuff you don't know about me yet -- just as I don't know about you."

Their face shines with tears, these they can't bring themself to stop with how many pour down, and how fast these are. "I've already troubled and hurt Frisk enough as it is, and I've... I've troubled well-meaning family like Brenda just as much with my mistakes." They cover their face as they sit down in bed, trying to contain their sorrow. "...And then I have these awful, intrusive thoughts that seep in whenever I think I'm doing better. I don't want to bring trouble to you or any other monsters, either, but reminding myself of my past worsens these feelings, kn- knowing I might screw up again and again and again."

Feeling the situation's getting too rough not to establish some control over it, Sans sits down with them and grabs their wrists, tugging at these for them to look down at him.

Fear reaches their gaze as they stare at his irises, completely overcoming their bright and cheerful attitude from earlier.

"Breathe," he says, voice low as he loosens his grip on their wrists -- at the feeling of them shaking almost violently under his hold. "We'll go to the Hall in a few. But, first... I'm gonna need you to calm down a lil' more." He lets go.

They nod, close their eyes, and let a few more tears drift down before he dries the rest of these off with the sleeve of his jacket. "...Alright."

When they shudder, sniffle, and recover some sense of tranquility, they look at him again and smile. "And thank you for showing me patience."

He smiles back and brings them in for a hug -- long, tight, and strong. "That I've got plenty of, puddin'."

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

• • •

Tag List (Comment or message me if you want to be added to [or removed from] it!)

@the-simp-express

@nektotersh

@disastrous-l0vebug

@therealchickenjoe

@mintyflakes025

@pandaquick

@timelock97

@candle-creeps

@paperb9gs

@merak0

[friiday-thirteenth]

right right right c a m p

ok. ok so it was very long and I'm unbelievably tired but also my head says write it down so uh

day one- five hour bus ride. it was fun, bc the person I was sitting beside slept the whole time and I got to joke around with the guys, who were surprisingly chill. they only brought up p*rn once, which is like.... good for them all things considered lmao

then we had the tramp in. the campsite where we were staying at the first night was the farthest from base, and one group biked in while the other tramped.

my groups tramp took s i x h o u r s. no other groups went over five. we had to keep stopping bc a) one kid was feeling sick, b) one kid rolled her ankle and c) we weren't allowed to sprint off into the Bush and potentially die without an instructor with us.

so there were like, four of us who were constantly at the front, and they were: me, my crush, my crushes best friend, bitch-who-bullied-me.

twas interesting.

we got the campsite in the dark, after a river crossing in which my socks got soaked, as did my shoes, and the tents and food were already sorted for us so that was great. food was shit, though. mince that was half brown water and cold pasta.kept us going, though, and as became my motto throughout camp, food is food.

that night was the only time I cried. kinda sad, tbh, but it was bc on the 'girls' side (as we all know that if the boys and girls tents were together, absolutely everyone would just be going at it, of course (jfc they have a low opinion of year tens (we sorta deserve it though, stuff happened with last years year tens...))) everyone else was paired up and even the people in three person tents didnt want me in there 🥰🥰🥰🥰 really felt the love there, guys.... jokes on them I slept by myself each night and was ready within five minutes each morning. actually really glad they showed how much they didnt care abt me bc it was really nice being alone in the wilderness, and that's not sarcasm.

anyway. day two.

woke up, was ready within ten minutes bc I woke with the leaders, who wake ten minutes before we're meant to and get themselves and breakfast ready before we're up. (I'm really fast at waking up, but take ages to go to sleep. like, everyone has to stfu before my body's able to start shutting down, and as soon as there's people moving around I'm up like a shot.)

anyway. I had eaten breakfast and was washing up before anyone else came out. next kid out was my crush, and we bitched about people taking forever for a while, which was fun.

then we waited for ages for everyone else to get sorted out, blah blah blah, and we had the bike ride back. 11.5 kilometers, I think,mostly downhill for us.

it was fun! I'm not a brilliant biker, but I kept near the middle-front of the group, and i just. let go of the brakes going downhill. and these hills were bloody steep and gravelly, plus the dips and river crossings.

I didnt fall off the bike, but one kid did lmao. there was this sharp turn before a metal gate, and He saw the gate and started pulling kn the brakes, but he hit the front brakes and just. flipped. the bike crashed into me and he went to the ground.

it was funny in the afterwards, but the kid got rather grazed lmao. he's not dead though, so that's good.

we were at the campsite that was, in my opinion, the coldest that night. also I slept in a three person instead of a two person, and by myself that meant more body heat was going into the tent. brrr. but we also did the nightline activity(hold onto a rope and follow it through the dark forest while blindfolded and with a helmet on. highly recommend it. go do it with friends u trust lmao)

I was behind this slow kid and he tripped at one point so I just. went ahead of him. then I spent around half an hour walking through the dark by myself (I walked into five trees. each time I took a step back, glared at it through the blindfold fifty five seconds and then continued around it with a muttered bitch. I'm nothing if not dramatic.) before I crashed into my crush hehe. it was near the end and we just got to the end at the same time, where two others already were. it was chill, we talked for a while. bullied people who were going through it by whacking trees they were near with sticks and shaking the line as they tried to use it. (we were allowed to, dw)

the next day, we went canyoning and holy frick frack fuckedy fuck fuck, that was c o l d. freezing. I jumped into the water and nearly died (exaggerated) but my crush jumped through a fricken waterfall and couldnt feel his hands or feet for ten minutes. another kid was walking funny bc he'd waited in the water for five minutes, and this shit was cold enough that we were wearing wet suits and thermals.

once we were dry and dressed (we got to have showers. h e a v e n (I only took 10 seconds bc like, why tf would you need a longer one? people took fifteen minutes, like wtf)) we went rock climbing! which was brilliant, honestly. I liked the belaying more (I've got this thing where I prefer people trust me than me trusting them, hmmm I wonder why) but also climbed the hardest one! it was really fun, and I only fell like fourteen time at one point (lmao,the rope caught me each time but I looked like a fuvking idiot hehe)

then we slept at a campsite which had a fire kn the beach!! if was so much fun. we also did a solo, which involved us sitting in the wild for twenty minutes and reflecting upon camp. I lay on the ground and stared at the moon. it was lovely and peaceful, until two kids started talking.

side note, guys voices are lovely and deep and rumbly and very nice (in general) but girls are generally higher pitched and ugh, it can be v e r y bloody annoying when ur trying to contemplate life.

possums visited camp that night. woke up in the middle of it to a possum crashing into the side if my tent, and I just. stopped breathing for a minute while I listened to it. a possum growling sounds terrifying. look it up!

also heard cows that night. cows are good.

day four, we abseiled. holy s h i t, it was fun. just... sitting there and watching the river and and rock and dangling in midair.... god, I loved it.

then we went to the high ropes course. this was b r i l l i a n t. we'd done low ropes st some point, but high ropes involved more belaying, which involved, and then at one point, we did a thing called the leap of faith, which was around eight meters high and you climbed to the top of this cylinder of wood before jumping for a trapeze. I knew I wouldn't get it, so I jumped on two when they counted down for me, and I missed lmao. but it was bloody brilliant.

then we had to do a whole shitton of cleanup,which they don't normally get groups to do, but we were s p e c i a l (as in our school gets to clean things we dont even use, sigh) before camping one last night. I had go share with someone, it was gell, packed up at least four tents in the morning bc I was very good at that for some reason,before we hot back to camp and went to the bus and oh, that was brilliant.

I finished my book, chatted with the guys, chatted with my crush for .5 of a second, had that thkng happen where people see you talking to a guy and are like ooOOooohhHHHHHhhh they're dAtiNG bc we're all stupid year tens and it was fucking hilarious (I've never dated anyone, so peopke bloody obsess over pairing me up with someone and I'm just like??? fuckers I'ma child how abt no (sidenote there was a couple on camp and they were cute but uh. year ten relationships dont really last, according to my year 13 camp leader (she was chill af, and basically showed me a whole new perspective on being friends with guys and so in conclusion she's bloody brilliant))) anyway they came up with a ship name for me and the guy and I nearly pissed myself laughing bc its best to laugh along with it and it was really funny tbh

anyway. we also for some reason talked abt sex and porn a lot and it was weird but also kinda chill bc most of the boys are relatively respectful of the girls,in the sense that we all make dirty jokes to each other but don't cross the line, so it was pretty funny and chill. also guys apparently never stop making dick jokes and that type of shit and it was kinda funny tbh

then we got home, grabbed our shit, and legged it away from there.

now I'm gonna rant abt my crush hehe

he was like, oh who's this? when we were walking to dinner in the dark one night (I was in front of him and his friend and he couldn't see my face) and then fucking knew who I was from the way that I walked like mate, why tf do you know how i walk and how to describe it, hmm?

I flipped him off after he said that though it was fucking funny

also!! he just. stared at my eyes and was like, are your eyes different colors? and I was like yeah. and he just nodded slowly and we maintained eye contact for a while. twas weird.

we have staring contests a lot too?? like, he'll look at me or I'll look at him and then at one point he was like, you just stare at people and then tilt ur head, dont you! and I was like wtf dude,but also I kept eye contact bc its a Thing.

also on the bus ride home he just mimicked my facial expressions and it was really bloody funny and j broke out laughed and he smiled

yeah basically I'm hopelessly crushing on him bc he's smart and sarcastic but it never gonna happen so I just wanna be friends type thing. sigh.

ANYWAY. camp was kinda great, at some points it left me feeling like I was so bloody alone and also I felt really shitty mentally but I kept going and i really enjoyed it! yeah! also i nearly cried when i said goodbye to my instructors bc they were brilliant and I'm gonna miss them so bloody much, I'm sad I'll never see them again.

yeah.

[fleckcmscott]

Adjusting

Summary: Arthur moved in with Y/N nearly two weeks ago. It takes more getting used to than he’d thought.

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Smut

Words: 3,675

A/N: Another request by the wonderful @sweet-nothings04​. Thank you to the amazing @ithinkimawriter​ for beta-reading and her support!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

Arthur was pensive as he sat at her small, round dining table. (Their table. Theirs. When was he going to remember to use the right word?) Pen in hand, he sought relief. The multitude of changes since moving to 4A in Burnley, since moving in with Y/N about a week and a half ago, had kept his brain distracted enough to stop his negative thoughts, at least for a couple of days. But they were back in full force. It was discouraging - he'd believed the temporary break might have been permanent. It had been foolish to hope, though he couldn't have stopped himself from wishing it.

Y/N had taken Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday off to help him settle in. They'd been side-by-side for five days, the most time they'd spent together at once. It had felt close to what he'd imagined a honeymoon would be like, and every hour had strengthened that association. He'd cherished it deeply, but he kept it to himself. He shouldn't have been picturing himself the happy groom and her his blushing bride after only three and a half months of dating.

When she'd returned to work Monday, it had been unexpectedly difficult for him. And his unease had grown over the next days. It wasn't that he was alone - he was used to being on his own. But he found that without her there, he felt out of sorts. Almost like a guest in a fancy hotel, regardless of how often he'd been there before and her insistence that he wasn't.

His old place had been run down, and everything in it, from appliances to the mismatched curtains, was outdated. But it had been his home and he'd been comfortable there. With all the evenings Y/N had spent in 8J after Penny left to go to long-term care, his memories of it had started to be positive. When she'd had work to do, he'd rummaged around while she'd sat at his breakfast bar, reading court documents he'd snuck a peek at but hadn't understood. Their first Christmas together, the first holiday that had meant a damn to him, had been celebrated in his living room. They'd watched shows on the old color TV, with its dials and wooden casing. And he'd made love to her on the couch, that piece of furniture he'd spent lonely nights on most of his life.

Maintaining separate residences had meant that Arthur's space and what he could do in it were clear. He'd had his own household to run and had managed to keep busy between the occasional job. Now he felt lost. Y/N had told him to take his own actions, to not worry about upsetting her, that as long as he didn't do something drastic to the apartment, there'd be no issue. Yet, even with her reassurances, he felt as though he needed permission. He didn't want to ruin her nice office wear by laundering it with his own, faded clothing. And he was unsure if she'd like him rearranging the kitchen cabinets a bit (because coffee and sugar should be on the same shelf).

It wasn't her fault. She'd done and continued to do everything she could to help him feel at home. New towels had been hung up for him in the bathroom. They'd gone shopping together and picked up the dish soap he used, his favorite seltzer, and sheets to match his green blanket. He'd hooked up his VCR, too, and they'd watched one of his old movies, just like before.

But his mind was stopping him from enjoying himself, as usual. He'd tried picturing a big red stop sign, speaking the words aloud to sap away the intrusive thoughts' power, both techniques he'd recently learned from his doctor. They weren't working tonight, however. So he started writing. "I signed up for another open-mike night, but that's in to weeks - to whole weeks!" He pulled at a piece of chestnut hair as he continued. "I half Y/N all the time. Its good but she's going to get tired of me. I'm tired of myself. I want to feel fresh for her when she gets home. Which is in two hours, so I better hurry the hell up!"

~~~~~

The sun had already set and a deep chill was in the air. It wasn't a surprise; February was Gotham's coldest month. Arthur stood in the partially open doorway, watching the light snow fall onto the fire escape, the flakes illuminated by the streetlights and lamps of the living room. Journaling had helped, and nicotine tempered him mildly. Still, his brain was racing, so much so he nearly felt numb. Part of him wondered if moving in with Y/N had been a mistake. Yes, he was thirty-five and most men seemed to move out when they were eighteen. But he wasn't like most people. And though he knew he'd taken the right step, his doubts tightened his sinews and muscles.

He didn't hear the closing of the front door. Or the clink of her keys on the kitchen counter. His first indication that she'd come home was her loose grip on his sides. "How was your day?" she asked.

Hard. "Okay." Letting out a smoky breath, he took a step forward and stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray on the stairs. "Yours?"

"Long." She didn't move forward, allowing the space he'd created between them. "There are nine hearings on the trailing docket tomorrow. I'm going to be in court until five." Her bones popped as she stretched behind him. "What do you want for dinner?"

"I'm not hungry."

She pulled him inside and closed the door behind them. "Here," she said, then brushed her fingers through his hair. "You've got snow on you."

A small chuckle left him and he bent his head to help her. "Oh."

"Where did your pajamas and thermals go?" she asked as she patted his chest. "You're always so buttoned up." Before he could bring himself to stop her, she'd opened his brown cardigan. Her kneading of his bony shoulders, the care she was showing him, made him wince and look at the floor. How could he explain his troubles, his concern, without hurting her?

But then she relieved him of that burden by starting the conversation herself. "Change isn't easy," she said. "You miss your old place." When he grasped her hand, he folded their fingers together and swallowed. Her arm went around him. "It doesn't mean you love me any less."

Both annoyed at and thankful for her perception, he frowned. She'd gotten too good at reading him, better than he was at interpreting her. He was working on it, though. "It's silly." He waved, trying to dismiss his discomfort. Then he tucked his chin. "I don't want you to think I don't wanna be here."

She kissed the corner of his mouth. "I'll never think that, Arthur."

His forehead rested against her temple. "I'm trying."

"I know. Did you write any jokes today?"

His arms encircled her and pulled her to him as he nodded. "What's the difference between Arkham's patients and doctors?"

The hold she had on him tightened, even as her voice was light. This had become a pattern: sweet puns on good days, darker wisecracks on rough days. "Their types of files?"

The punchlines she gave were always too cerebral. Nestling in her hair, he closed his eyes. "The patients get better and leave."

Laughing, she pulled away from him. The grin he gave her was small, the stroking of her jaw short. But he hoped they were enough to tell her he was going to be all right. Especially with her by his side. Her cheeks turned pink in response. "I think I have a way to make you feel better," she said.

Eagerly, he let her lead him to the bathroom. It was with relief he watched her grab the soap from the sink, take out two new washcloths, and start the shower. They hadn't made love for eleven days; he missed it - it was a comfort to him. Her monthly had started right before the move, and, while he'd needed her, he'd been too tense to get in the mood since it had ended.

She helped him out of his sweater and hung it on one of the hooks he'd installed on the door. The white shirt he wore was undone hastily, both of them fumbling with the buttons. When she reached for the fly of his pants, he cupped her face and kissed her tenderly. He felt her smile as she nudged his nose with hers. Then she backed away and stripped out of her champagne blouse, revealing the plain, beige bra she wore underneath. She slipped out of her skirt, too, leaving it on the floor, and sat on the closed lid of the toilet to take off her pantyhose. "I've been wanting to do this for awhile."

Though his mind was still busy, the speed of his thoughts was decreasing. And she was cheering him up. He propped himself on the sink and took off his white socks.  "It's a little slippery in there," he said wryly.

"I'll have you know I'm a pretty good ice-skater. For a Southern girl, at least." That was an image he'd have to remember. Maybe they could try it out at Gotham Park before the end of winter. She removed her underthings and put on the radio, which was set to Arthur's favorite AM station, the one that played music from the thirties and forties. "Besides, I'll have you to break my fall." Then she stepped in the tub.

They hadn't showered together before. It reminded him of the night they'd lain in the bath, when he'd realized her love for him wasn't a trick. Would he feel the same closeness without laying in her arms? Sliding his pants and briefs down his legs, he got in beside her and shut the reeded glass door. The space was a couple inches narrower than his old one, but because there wasn't a curtain that would annoyingly cling to him, it felt bigger. It was a bit longer, too. And the shower head was at a good height, though he was still getting used to the higher water pressure.

The steam rising above them, the pelt of droplets against his back, the foot of space between them - he took it all in, peering at her, hands clasped in front of him. She was already rinsing suds out of her hair. Was he supposed to start washing in front of her? Pressing his lips together, he picked up his shampoo. But she stopped him and took the plastic bottle. "Let me."

"I can do it," he said, trying to grab it. Apparently ignoring him, she turned him around so his chest faced the wall, then got his hair all wet. It felt childish at first, but he realized that was silly. She'd never treated him that way, not once since they'd met. So he went along with what she was doing and tried to relax. The sensation of her massaging him made that easy.

She slowed as Lawrence Welk started playing, the song muffled by the humidity of the room. "This music is older than I am." There was a slight tugging on his scalp as she got caught in his loose curls. "You really like antiques."

"That's why I'm with you." He chuckled at himself when she swatted his bottom, proud of his quick comeback. But then his eye started to burn and he squinted. "Shit. Hold on," he said, lifting his face towards the shower head.

The rub of the washcloth across his shoulders, then lower and lower still, prompted him to look down. She'd stepped closer, one of her feet between his. "Are you feeling any better?" she asked, her fingertips ghosting over his heated skin. He found he could only nod. "Good." The cloth fell to the bottom of the tub, next to their feet, the impact splashing his ankle.

Her arms snaked around him, and he shut his eyes at the press of her breasts to his back . Her palm went to his chest, then glided down, teasing each rib until she reached his taut abdomen. He responded to her caresses, growing erect as she got closer to his dark curls. A huff left his parted lips as her fingers enclosed around his length, gently sliding up and down. The slick of the soap let her slip over him easily, and it felt incredible, even moreso because he'd yearned for it. It only took a few seconds for him to harden to the point where it was painful.

He bit his lip, her delicate grazes causing him to tremble. But then she started to withdraw, and he thought she'd mistaken his reaction. He grasped her hand and opened his eyes. "Don't. Please."

"Tell me what you want," she said against his shoulder.

What he wanted? He longed for Y/N to take his last name (even though it was far too soon to suggest that), to make it feel like it was his again after the lies he’d uncovered. He needed to accept that he belonged in her home, in their home, and stop doubting. And now, with their legs entwined under the flowing water, he wanted her to keep touching him.

Challenging himself, he watched as he slowly guided her over his cock. The eroticism of the sight halted his breathing. "Y/N..," he groaned, bracing his forearm on the dark blue tile wall. Her fingertips reached out and traced the edge of his swollen, red head, and he rutted forward. When her nails dug the skin of his thigh, he thrust into her touch again. Her breath was hot on his neck as her hips followed his. It was becoming too much too fast - he wanted to be inside her instead of spending all over their hands and the floor.

Spinning to face her, he clasped her sides and drew her flush to him, his eyes darting back and forth between hers. Her eyelids were heavy, her pupils dilated with desire. Drops ran down the plains of her face from her hair, over her brow and cheekbones. Unable to wait any longer, he tilted his head and pressed his mouth to her. The contact burned and he twisted them to press her against the wall, slipping his tongue between her lips. She took his erection, then, and brought it to her labia.

At first Arthur was surprised, believing her to be going too quickly for the intimacy he craved. But instead of taking him inside her, she slid his tip over her burning, wet folds, and he bucked towards her. Her giggle was wicked, but turned to a soft moan as she went faster and shivered. She was teasing them both, and every swipe of him along her core tickled the nerve endings up and down his shaft.

He hungered to taste her, and batted her hand away before kissing down the side of her neck, fondling her breast as he thumbed the peak of it. Her soft cry bounced off the glass door, and his fingers went between her legs, sinking into her  soft center. His open-mouth and tongue followed as he knelt before her. The musky scent of her filled his senses as he nuzzled the feminine curve of her abdomen. Just as he was getting into the right position, the spray of the shower hit the side of his face and ear unpleasantly and he flinched.

Y/N giggled and stroked his hair away from his forehead with sympathy, then inched down the wall towards the end of the tub, holding his arm as he followed on his knees. It felt slapstick - he had to laugh at his own awkwardness. But that faded as soon as he gazed up at her. One foot was situated on her side of the tub, opening her wide to him. Rivulets were trailing down her shoulders, the slopes of her chest, catching on her nipples. And she was smiling down at him, affection as clear as the water they were standing and kneeling in. "This was supposed to be about you."

"It still is," he rasped as he spread her lips with his thumbs, then licked a line from her entrance to her clit. Her response was immediate, rolling into his mouth and calling his name. He kept his eyes on her, watching the rise and fall of her breasts with each exhalation, and the way her head tipped to touch the tiles. One of her hands went to the ceramic soap dish on the wall, holding it in a white-knuckle grip, while the other went to his shoulder.

It was funny, he reflected, even as he laved at her. He'd fantasized about this act within the first week of meeting her. From what he'd seen and heard, women were supposed to like it. He hadn't expected to enjoy it as much as he did, though. The strength of her responses always made him feel good about himself - and turned him on beyond belief. And knowing no one else was allowed to do this to her, that she was his alone, satisfied him.

There was more of her slick with every sweep of the tip of his tongue, and he savored its taste as he closed his lips around her clitoral hood. Her grip tightened as she put more of her weight on him. She must have been having a hard time continuing to stand. His palms went to her quivering thighs and he pushed, anchoring her as her slight movements stuttered. With a series of soft cries and pants, she started throbbing against him, and he brought her tighter to his mouth, his licks tenderly persistent as he groaned into her.

Once her spasms halted, he stood and pressed his forehead to hers. With a smile on her face, she wrapped an arm around him. Then she reached between them and helped him ease up inside her. It went more smoothly than he had assumed. And he hadn't guessed it would be quite so comfortable, standing instead of laying down (which they'd always done so far). But the scorching stretch of her surrounding him felt wonderful, even at this angle.

"I missed this." Her breath brushed his jawline as the muscles around his cock tightened. “I wish you could stay inside me forever.”

A short, muffled laugh escaped him, then became an amused hum. "That's a long time." His frame shuddered as he grasped her rear, holding her as he withdrew a few centimeters. "I don't wanna go fast," he said, ending on a grunt, nuzzling her cheek.

She held the nape of his neck, her fingers tangled in his hair. "Fuck me like you kiss me," she whispered. A small, pleased hiccup caught in his throat before he locked his lips with hers. Where had she learned to speak so shamelessly? It drove him crazy. He bent his head, opening his mouth to deepen their connection. But the unhurried, shallow plunging of his hips, her walls repeatedly accepting him, enveloping him, soon prevented him from concentrating on anything other than the need to finish.

She was moving, just enough to meet him, still letting him control the rhythm. Blindly, he grasped at the wall, pushing his face to her neck as he screwed his eyes shut. The newness of this, the nearly two weeks without her, and the eager clutch of her body were fighting him deliciously. It was ending too fast, and the ability to slow down was slipping away.

Somehow he was still holding himself up. He thrust harder, deeper, striving for the few seconds of serenity he only experienced after losing himself in her. One final push and the pressure in him broke, and he gasped and spilled inside her. The music in the background faded, drowned out by the hushed moans and whimpers passing between their lips as he pressed her into the tiles. Stilling, he kept himself buried in her until the gentle waves of his climax ended and his muscles went slack.

Y/N was rubbing his back, kissing his shoulder, neck, then face. His pulse skipped at those tender touches, and he lifted his head to meet her eyes. “Feeling better?” she asked.

“Yes." He carefully left the grip of her entrance.

Cupping his face, she leaned her nose to his cheek. “Good.” Then she grabbed the washcloth from the tub, wiped herself off, and hopped out of the shower. Arthur shook his head, smirking as he cleaned himself. When he slid the door open, she was there in her sweatshirt and pants, and she gave him his towel. “I know you prefer these,” she said, putting his thermal shirt and pajamas on the sink. “I don't want to tell you what to wear. But you can lounge in our home. Plus,” she continued, grinning, “your arms look great in that shirt.”

He deduced she must have grabbed them while he was finishing up. A bashful smile broke across his cheeks and he ducked his head. "Thanks. You always know what to say." Shrugging, he shook his head. "You always do that. Make things better." Then he took her hand and pulled her closer, leaning into her. "I really am glad I'm here." Gazing at their entwined fingers, he gave a small squeeze. "I don't ever want to leave," he said quietly.

"Don't worry," she said, tone upbeat. "You're stuck with me for good." Y/N planted a kiss on him and walked out of the bathroom. "I'll start dinner. Join me when you're ready."

Even if it was something simple, Arthur enjoyed cooking with her. Hurriedly, he wrung out and dried his hair, then ran the plush cloth over his arms, torso, and legs. Not caring his clothes were getting wet, he pulled them on and ran out after her.

~~~~~

Lawrence Welk - The Moon is a Silver Dollar

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve​ @ithinkimaperson​ @sweet-nothings04​ @stephieraptorr​ @rommies​ @fallenstarsabyss​ @gruffle1​ @octopus-plasma​ @tsukiakarinobara​

[birth-fic-lover]

A snowstorm baby

For Kim it has been the coldest winter she had exprenced for a long time, she cursed herself for staying in this old flat. It’s single glased windows held no heat and the boiler was always breaking, it happened once again one day as she was getting ready to pick her daughter Mia up from school. Kim called the plummer, but unfortunatly she couldn’t get here till tomorow. 

As Kim walked she worried what she would say to her daughter, there was snow due and she didn’t want her daughter to get ill from the cold. As Kim waited for the kids to be let out she saw Alexia, the mother of her daughters best friend. Kim had known her since the girls started school together, they had natrally got on like a house on fire. Kim actualy didn’t mind picking her daughter up from Alexia’s house for playdates or when took forever to get ready as her and Alexia had some great chats about life.

Alexia is the known lesbain but Kim never see’s her part of any of the school’s LGBTQ+ groups or with a partner, which some may find suprising considering she has a daughter and was also heavly pregnant at the moment. As they waited they casualy chatted, Kim decided not to metion about there lack of hot water. She didn’t want Alexia to feel like she has to take her and her daughter Mia in, especally in Alexia’s condision. 

Alexia stroked her mountious belly as the children were releaced into the playground, “have a good evening” Alexia said.

As Mia joined Kim, she explained that the hot water was out again this evening. “Oh no” Mia said loudly “but what about my shower? I don’t wanna be all wrapped up all evening!”

Kim was about to reason with her when Mia’s best friend ran over to ask about the homework, of course little girls beimg little girls Mia instead told her best friend about the heating who ran to her mummy. Alexia then came over, “would you like me to take Mia for the evening? She’s due a sleepover at mine anyway, it may be her last chance to sleep at my house for a while”. Alexia held her belly as if to highlight the reason why.

Kim felt bad but Alexia made a good point, “well if it’s no trouble. You take the girls, I’ll drop by with Mia’s stuff.”

The girls cheered and Kim smiled to herself, she was glad her daughter wouldn’t be suffering tonight afterall. She put together a bag with a fresh uniform for the next day, as well as wash stuff and pj’s. She decided she would sort herself out once she returned home.

When Kim rang the doorbell she was greeted by Alexia who was covered in little flour handprints all over her belly, she just laughed. “Come on in, the girls were making mini pizzas and as you can see they got distracted when the baby kicked.”

Kim couldn’t help but smile, “I should get going, I still need to make dinner for myself and wanna get home before the snow gets thick”. It had been snowing since she had left her house with Mia’s belongings.

“I was thinking about it and you might as well stay over too, save you having to come back here. We all just got an email, school is closed tomorow as the snow is going to be so heavy. I’ll be honest I’d be suprised if your plummer comes tomorrow”.

Kim was tempted, “I’d have to go all the way back for...”

“You can borrow some of my stuff, you look like my size.. pre pregnancy of couse. It will be nice for that stuff to be used again haha” Alexia said winning Kim over.

“Okay, okay you win” Kim said coming inside, she joined the girls who were eatting there pizzas. Mia enjoyed her evening having a sleepover whilst Kim and Alexia had a nice pasta dish and chat, both single parents apprecated the grown up time. “I assume I’m in the guest room like I was for new years?” kim asked before blushing, that new years had been fun. The girls enjoyed counting down and Kim had been taken aback when Alexia gave her a bit more then a peck on the lips but never questioned it. 

“Oh unfortunately this little guy has already moved his stuff into that room, but you don’t mind bunking in with me do you? I don’t have any spare blanket and anyway you don’t wanna be on the sofa” Alexia said smiling.

Kim nodded and maybe it was her imagination but at that point it seemed to be Alexia goal to get the girls washed, teeth brushed, story read and tucked in for the night. Soon we were sitting on top of the covers of Alexia’s bed watching tv, Kim was suprised how normal it felt. It was so nice as Kim would occationally watch Alexia’s shirt ride up as she lazy rubbed her globe like belly, at one point Alexia caught her and smiled. “Sorry, this time of night I love how calm he is. Have a feel” she offered Kim, “He will spend the rest of the night wide awake keeping me up with him”.

Kim hesitated and Alexia not wanting to push the matter continued talking, “I can now feel the head right in my pelvis, makes climbing those stairs”. To Alexia’s suprise Kim nodded and found herself rubing Alexia’s low hanging belly gently. At first running her hand along the bottom, then slowly pushing her fingers back up along the top near her breasts. She stopped as she realised what she was doing, this was not meant to be getting aroused as she felt for the baby. But to Kim’s suprised Alexia said softly “oooohhh that really felt lovely”, Kim suposed both of them must not get much attention. 

Kim was right, Alexia practically had to hold in a moan of delight. She hadn’t been touched for so long, so just that touch made her nipples became hard beneath her maternity bra. When she noticed they had risen and could be seen though her shirt Alexia then got up to use the bathroom. 

She got changed and on her way back passed Kim some clothes to sleep in, as she goes and gets changed in the bathroom Kim takes the chance to take a breather. She knows that she has always classed herself as straight but she can’t stop thinking about Alexia, but she assumes that Alexia wouldn’t be sharing these feelings. Alexia has a daughter and a unborn child to think of, Kim has her daughter. Kim puts the soft nightdress on, she is suprised that Alexia would pick this for her. 

As Alexia waited for Kim to return she felt an as an odd sensation within her womb, but she put that down to the arousal she was feeling for Kim. She knew that Kim was a forbidden fruit and she knew better the to go after a straight girl, but this was all just a bit of fun. She couldn't help image those were blushes of attraction.

While in the bathroom Kim notices all the birthing supplies, from the look of it Alexia was having a home birth. Even a clamp for the cord and a at home fetal heart monitor. Kim tried to remember how far along Alexia was, would she be due soon?

But as she joins Alexia in the bedroom Alexia seems to be taking her all in, before hiding her glance and looking down. Alexia turns off the light as soon as Kim is in the bed, after a moment she asks “mind if I remove my nightdress, I’m not used to all this body heat in my bed” dispite it being the middle of winter.

Kim is glad for the darkness as she blushes, “of couse, this is your home”.

Alexia clicked her lamp on and took off her clothes, Kim couldn’t help rolling over so she could catch a glance of Alexia’s naked chest. Her firm milkfilled breasts hung from from her chest like 2 ripe fruits, her nipples were erect Kim assumed from the slight chill in the air. Without any clothes Kim could see her orb like belly in it’s full glory, she thought about the donor who didn’t even know how lucky he was to have such a beautful woman carrying his seed.

Kim then wondered if it was an anonymos donor or someone Alexia knew, maybe Alexia used the same donor as last time. Suddenly Kim was wracking her brain to work out if Alexia ever mentioned using a known donor or not. But then Kim caught herself not liking how much she suddenly cared. 

Still she found herself watching the rise and fall of Alexia's breasts, she had forgotten to rub lotion over the curve of her bump so was now doing so. Kim wondered if Alexia knew what she was doing to Kim as she feely lay there naked stroking her soft skin. As Kim shuffled she realised she was wet between her legs, again she blushed. 

She looked over and Kim saw hard her nipples were, she wondered if it ment Alexia was aroused too. "You don't have to be embarrassed" Alexia said "we don't have to do anything if you don't want to, but if you would like to have a bit of fun... then".

"I can't" Kim said "I don't want things to get awkward if I'm.... I don't want the girls to not be affected by my.."

"Relax Kim, it's a snow day. A one off day, I know that because we are not used to the snow we may find it an exciting adventure and I won't judge how you play in the snow". 

As she finished talking Alexia felt a tightening inside her womb stronger then before, but just wrote it off as a braxton hick. She thought about telling Kim but just then Kim sighed,"what if I don't want it to be a one off?"

Alexia leaned over and kissed Kim on the lips, "why don't we see how you feel after the snow day before you think about moving to colder climates."

"Stop saying your snow when you are actually so hot" Kim said before kissing Alexia, both ladies slid down the head board and Alexia lay on the mattress Kim on top. They passionately kissed, Kim's free hand exploring Alexia's belly. The baby kicked against Kim's palm, awoken by it's mothers racing heart. Kim's hands explore further down the sides of her body, stroking her butt there breasts pressed against each other. As they sat up Alexia removed Kim's nightdress, then moved her hand downwards. "Oh wow you were wet".

"Yes" Kim whispers "I'm wet for you". She started kissing her neck then down to her heavy sensitive breasts, she slipped her lips over one of her nipples. Alexia let out a soft moan, spurred on Kim swelled her tounge around. Whilst she put her hand over the other breast squeezing the nipple between 2 fingers and pulling at it. Kim found it wonderful she swapped to the other breast, Alexia's moans increased.

After a while she moved her mouth away from her breast, Kim started kissing her way down to her belly. She made a fuss of Alexia knowing that she would appreciate soft kisses across her gravid belly. "I thought this belly would make me less sexy" Alexia moaned, "but thats certainly not the case".

In response Kim slide her hand down and started to stroke Alexia's folds, she then slide a finger tip inside her. "May I?" Kim asked.

"Ohhh" Alexia moaned "you may". Kim then slide two fingers inside, she had always had a fantasy of pleasuring a woman the way she had never been. She started pumping slowly at first, then sped up feeling Alexia’s inner walls react. "Ohhhhh" Alexia moans holding her belly. "No no carry on, it's just been so long" Alexa reassured. But she felt the tightening again, she knew it wasn’t a ushal sensation for her. But this may be her only chance and tried to hide the ache she felt.

"I could always use my mouth?" Kim offered lowering her head and licking and sucking her clit, Alexia moaned and her hips thrusted along her breasts beating her belly like a drum with each thrust that Kim's fingers were still doing. Both ladies felt Alexia building up, her walls contracted and she gave a long moan her belly hardening as she came.

As Kim removed her fingers Alexia pulled her closer still on her back, she held Kim close no words spoken between them. Alexia put her hand on her belly, Kim joined in caressing the mountain that was now her belly. It was so full of life, she knew it shouldn’t but it turned her on. “Do you want me to...” Alexia started to offer but Kim shook her head, all this was turning her on enough. Alexia caught on and said “do you want to feel me down there again?”

Kim didn’t need to be asked twice, she slipped her hand between Alexia’s thighs reached down and began massaging the clit slowly but with lots of pressure this time.

"Gaaaaaah hoo hoo" she moaned unsure if it was from the plesure or another tightening, her breasts rise and fall as she tries not to explode from the sesations. But then suddenly the sensation grew into something worse and a contraction gripped her hard. “Gaaahhhhhhhh ohhh stop stop” she said cluching her belly. 

“Oh my god are you okay? Did your waters break?” Kim asked looking for fluid.

“No hoo hoo but I’m in labour” she still felt the pain, Kim held her until Alexia relaxed, she remebered that Alexia had looked like she was having a homebirth from the stuff in the bathroom.

"Do you want to call your midwife?" Kim asked her. Alexia nodded and Kim got her phone to her, but the snow had got heavyer. Alexia could tell that her midwife was doubtful she could make it, and said she should go to the hospital once she was more dilated. 

Alexia agreed but knew she wasn’t going anywhere, the snow wasn’t safe to drive in. Plus she wanted a homebirth, so that was what was going to happen. She climbed off the bed and made her way to the bathroom, Kim followed "is there anyone you want to call, I’m happy to watch your daughter.”

“Let the girls sleep, hopefully when they awake there will be a new member of the household to enjoy” Alexia said as she started filling up the birthing pool she had already set up in her on suite bathroom.

“You’re not thinking of doing it by yourself?” Kim asked wondering how much she could convince Alexia this wasn’t wise.

“My midwife won’t come because it’s not safe on the roads and it’s gonna take forever, I’m not risking my unborn child by going outside” Alexia said simply. She wondered how much Kim would fight her, but Kim seemed to just take a second and then started helping her set up and fill the pool.

Alexia then felt her next contraction, she tried to hold it in not wanting to wake the children. “What do you need?” Kim asked both about the pool and the pain Alexia was in.

“Gaah just stay by my side” she said reaching out to her, Kim was more then happy to do so. Over the next 2 hours Alexia contractions got worse, but Kim was there holding her and swaying the pain away when needed. 

“Who would of been here if I wasn’t?” Kim asked couriously.

“The midwife, I kinda only have my daughter and my son when he arrives” she said softly, Alexia rubbed her belly whilst Kim was silent. She started to sway again trying to get the pressure off her hips, but then her grip on Kim tightened her other hand supporting her belly. “Naaaaggggghhhhh hee heee naaaaaghhhhhh” she groaned as her contractions were getting more intense, she just wanted to start pushing. 

Alexia’s laboring belly was so tight, it looked like it was about to burst. Kim was shocked how watching Alexia go though such a moment made her so attractive, but she was so powerful going though this without even gas and air.

Alexia found herself wanting to sqaut, Kim got on her knees to join her. Alexa’s belly hung low, heavy with her unborn child who’s head was pressed right upto the entrance to Alexia’s birth canal. Alexia could feel it, she checked her dilation wishing her water would break soon. “I’m at 8cm, 2 more till I can push”. But the sqauting did help at least.

Kim held her, “your my hero, I was a wussy when my mia was born”.

“hooooo I bet you were” Alexia teesed as a contraction hit and she held onto Kim. She then finally felt the pop she had been waiting for and her water broke, as the fluid hit the floor she felt the urge to push. “Naaagggghhhhhhhh” she moaned, she was not wasting any time.

“Should I help you in the pool?” Kim asked, but Alexia ignored her. As she pushed she felt the head begin to move down into the birth canal easily. She could tell here body was ready to eject her son. 

“I can’t move outta this sqaut” Alexia said once the contraction was over. Kim nodded and comforted her, until Alexia felt the urge to push again. “NAAAGGGGHHHH” Alexia moaned loudly, she was glad they had closed the door to both the bedroom and the en suite so hopefully they wouldn’t wake the girls. As she pushed Alexia felt herself progressing, she spread her legs wider to componsate for her son being fully in her birthcanal.

Kim moved her position so she would be able to guide the baby out, on Alexia’s next push her folds parted and a tear drop gap was present. As the baby decended out of her Alexia was sure this baby dispite being early was huge, she felt the buldge between her legs growing. “Gaaaahhhh nnnaaaggghhh” she moaned as the baby crowned, she thought she was going to die from the pain. “ohhh god OHHHH I’m so scared”.

“No you got this Alexia, come on you are so close” Kim encoraged, and with that Alexia kept pushing till the head popped out. Kim thought she was going to rest but Alexia kept pushing till the shoulders popped out and the baby felt into her hands.

But at first the child didn’t cry, Kim saw the cord round his neck, with quick shaking hand she removed the cord from her neck. The colour flooded back into the baby’s face, then he let out a cry. Alexia put the baby though her legs and onto her deflated belly. She looked up at Kim and something in them both knew this wouldn’t be the first birth they would expreience together.

[mysleeplesswriter]

Escape...

The dark forest continued on for more than a ‘a few kilometers`, and Gemma increasingly became more and more drained. She became irritated at her English teacher, she had said this wasn’t even going to take that long, she had been relentlessly walking for the past two and a half hours. The Dark Oak trees that surrounded them were of great size and looked elegant as the danced with the light winds.

“Were nowhere near the cabins, are we? You said this aint gonna take long, miss.”, Gemma grunted as she unraveled herself from a vine of branches. Gemma wasn’t those people who liked to go outside. She always rather to sit and stay at home snuggled up in her blanket and sipping on her overly sweet hot chocolate. Besides, she was an introvert and stayed to herself.

“Now Gemma, when I said this wasn’t going to take long, I meant it,” her teacher smiled, “The cabins are a half an hour walk away.”

The whole class complained when they heard it.

It was now practically lunchtime and Gemma wouldn’t let that pass, even if she was in a deep, creepy forest. Her classmates took refuge under the trees.

“Miss d’know that its lunchtime, an’ I aint gonna let that pass. I don’t care if we half an hour away. I'm gonna eat, if you wanna continue walkin’ then fine by me. Aint me who gonna lose their job.”, she said as she grabbed her sandwich from her bag and sat down on a tree branch.

Gemma's teacher sighed and shook her head and let the children eat their lunch.

“Hey Gemma?”, yelled one of her classmates, “Did you get forced to come out ‘ere ‘cos I know you hate the outdoors ‘cos your lazy.”

The rest of the class snickered.

Geez they never appreciate anything, she thought, why do I even bother to help ‘em.

After they finished their lunch, they continued their trek through the forest. Birds chirped their afternoon song and flew high in the sky. The blue atmosphere open and bright.

Finally, they arrived at the cabins. They were insignificant and wooden. Lined up like soldiers along the gravel ground. There was a wooden campfire sitting in the middle. A big cabin for the teachers (unfair) and another for an eating quarter. Everything was made of wood and it hurt her eyes. Too much wood.

The sign at the entrance read, Pine Wood Camps.

They all went to the eating quarters and everyone sat on tables, well almost everyone, Gemma was the only one standing up because there weren't any extra chairs apparently.

I think everyone hates me, even my English teacher. Really, I think everyone Is set out to ruin my life, she muttered.

At the end of the meeting everyone was assigned to cabins and to her absolute trouble she had to SHARE cabins, why couldn’t the others just sleep outside? She was taken to Cabin 3, along with Stephanie, one of the sporty girls, who were popular. Angel, the nerdy one. Katie, the annoying one, she keeps on rambling on about her short-lived career of being the face of a toothbrush company. Gemma despised her. How could she ever live with these three, in a small dusty cabin for a MONTH?! She had to leave. But they were stuck on an island in the middle of nowhere. Where did Mrs. Magel even find this place, probably from her shady husband who keeps saying that when the police are around be on high alert, because he always is. There are rumors that say he is an escaped felon. Gemma didn’t care, right now. All she wanted to do was leave. And she was going to!

As they unloaded their bags in silence, Mrs. Magel came in and passed them sheets, they were chores sheets. They had chores to do?! Ok, Gemma had to find a way to escape! The nights were too dark, but in the day, everyone was out. Evening would be right; she would finish dinner early and get back onto the track through the forest and by the dock. The boats came by whenever you pressed a button, letting them know that someone was waiting at the island for a boat. The journey all together would take at least seven to eight hours. It would be almost daylight when she gets back to the land. From there she would have to take a taxi into the city, take the next train back into central New York and then another train back home. To Gemma that was way too long, so she decided to stay for a few days to chart out the place and try to find the quickest way out of this misery.

“I aint doin’ this,” Gemma said as she tossed the piece of paper onto her bed.

“You gotta be kidding me Gemma, you have to do it.”, Katie laughed.

“You aint my mama, leave me alone. I do what I wanna do. Got it?”

“Ok... but if Mrs. Magel finds out you aint doing your chores, you're gonna get into trouble.”, smirked Katie.

Gemma growled at Katie before turning back to unpack her bags.

By the time they were done, it was dinner and they had to go outside to eat. Who eats dinner outside, in the dark? It was WINTER for god sake! Still, she stepped out the door and into the eating quarter. It had been decorated with beautiful lights and string decorations, it looked nicer than it had before. When you climbed up the few stairs to get in, there was a buffet of food. Heated, smoking pasta, warm rice, and spaghetti. Along with sides, desserts, drinks, and sauces. Maybe camp wasn’t so bad?

Erase that, the food is good, camp is bad.

Gemma took her seat on a table and grabbed up some food. Pasta was her favorite so she got that with some sides. The desserts bar was not open yet, so she waited as she ate up her dinner. As everyone else piled in to get their food, Gemma went to the bathroom. Dinner, for her was done.

As she opened the door of the bathroom, she found out that it was a one-person room, there weren’t any cubicles. She locked the door and sighed. Finally, some peace and quiet. The toilet was cold, but she was indoors, and the heater was on. That’s weird she thought. The mirror on top of the sink was small, and a little high. But not too high. She could still see herself.

Tired and messy…

Bright golden lights hung above her, making the lighting in the room look beautiful, in spite of her looking not her best. Putting the lid of the toilet down and resting on it, she thought about her scheme.

Wait! Before they came to camp, whilst they were in the forest Mrs Magel gave everyone a map of the forest and what camp will look like. She remembered that she put it in her hoodie pocket, so she grabbed it. Delighted, she opened the sheet and stared at it, searching desperately for a speedy way to get into the forest and outside of it. The sheet in her hand shook, as excitement grew inside of her.

A knock at the door, made her jump.

“Hello? Who’s in there? Are you okay? Its Mrs Magel.”

“Oh its-err- Gemma. I’m fine miss, I’ll be out in a sec.”, she said panicking.

“Ok, the dessert bar is open now, so if you want some, come get it before the others finish their dinner.”, she smiled.

“Yeah, yeah. I will.”, Gemma got up and pretended to wash her hands, she hadn’t used the bathroom. She unlocked the door and  outside she met Mrs Magel, who used the toilet after her.

Gemma walked to the dessert bar. What should she get? There were different types of cakes, puddings, pies, and custards. Ice cream too. Who’s kidding? She grabbed two pieces of each dessert, except the apple pie. She didn’t like apple pie, it made her feel sick and want to throw up. Putting her desserts on plates and bowls, she stumbled away to her room, balancing the treats carefully on her hands and arms. Lucky, Gemma didn’t choose the top bunk and so she clambered onto her bunk. Putting some of the desserts on the bed around her and on the floor.

Angel didn’t have dinner and so she had already gone to bed; well, she was reading. They intelligent girl was sleeping on the opposite bunk and spotted how much Gemma had bought with her from the buffet.

“Hey Gemma? What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be having dinner?”, she put her book behind her and climbed down the bunk ladder. Slowly, she walked to Gemma’s bed.

“I had dinner before everyone else came, the dessert bar opened a few minutes ago, so I grabbed pretty much everything and ran away.”, she laughed.

“Can I have a piece of chocolate cake?”, Angel asked.

“Yeah, sure you can have a slice. Just remember that I love my dessert so only a slice!”, Gemma made it clear. Angel nodded and grabbed a piece.

Quickly, she grabbed the map from her pocket yet again. Scanning over more routes, she got her notebook and started to pinpoint them. Angel stopped munching on her piece of cake and gave her a perplexed look. Gemma looked up but disregarded her.

“What- err-what you doin’ there?”, she raised her head to see.

“Oh-er I’m just looking at different places in camp. Yeah.”, nodding her head, she stuffed the notebook and map back into her backpack. Together they ate the rest of the desserts.

As they finished up the other girls came. Katie and Stephanie, walked in and got dressed for bed, not even saying hello to Angel or Gemma. Why did she have to share a cabin with the two coldest humans?

Angel thanked Gemma for letting her eat the treats together and went straight to bed. After a while, Stephanie walked in from the bathroom, followed by Katie. And they both went to sleep. Gemma, however, was still awake. She sat up on her bed. Staring into the cabin’s darkness. She still hadn’t changed out of her clothes and didn’t take a shower when they had arrived a few hours ago.

Suddenly, she became aware of one fact she hadn’t considered all day- this was the first time she was away from home. Far away from home. In shock, she got her slippers on and went outside. The cool night air brushed against her straw-colored hair. The saplings waved around in harmony with the wind. It was a friendly, breezy night. The silence made her sigh deeply, it was the first time in a while she was able to breath freely. She smiled. Staring into the murky, deep-rooted forest that startled Gemma she shook her head because suddenly, something caught her eye. A movement in the woods. Then the loud sound of leaves crunching. The peace had been ruined.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”, she shouted out into the air, confused about who could be out at this time at night.

Nothing......

“Hello? Michael is that you? I’m not scared y’know!”

Gemma sighed and started to walk toward the woodland. It was just Michael. Right?

Gemma’s bear arms were freezing as she got closer. Her messy hair following the direction of the wind, which was now getting stronger.

Another crunch. A twig- SNAP!

It echoed around the whole camp. That wasn’t Gemma… Maybe it is just an animal. It must be. Who else would be walking around in the creepy woods at midnight? Cautiously entering the woods, her eyes darted around, trying to make out what was making that noise.

“Hello?!”

SNAP! With that leaves fired up into the air, the- whatever that was- started to run. Run fast. Inhumanly fast. If a human doesn’t run like that then it’s safe to say it’s an animal. Or so she thought…

Jumping at the sound, she hit the tree with her foot. Now she was scared. Turning to walk away, she noticed something that she hadn’t before. A shoe. A Nike shoe. Whoever or whatever that was, was wearing shoes. Maybe this isn’t an animal after all.

“Hello?! I aint gonna hurt ya’. Why you runnin’ from me?”

Suddenly, whoever that was stopped. Froze. More twigs snapped. More leaves crunched.

“What?”, a quiet voice croaked. It was so quiet that if even there was a breath, she wouldn’t have been able to hear it.

“Hello? What your name?”, she grabbed a ring light her mum gave to her and shined it in front of her.

“Camila.”

Gemma walked closer and smiled.

“You didn’t come with us when we were on the trip. I know we don’t have a Camila in my class. What you doin’ ‘ere?”

“I was left behind from my other class. I have been living inside the cabins until you came.”

“Do you wanna come back to the cabins? I’ll tell miss that you need somewhere to stay.”

“No, it’s okay. She will think I’m suss.”, Camila shook her head and walked off.

Nothing seemed fishy about Camila. Gemma chased after her. She was going to let her stay. Whether Mrs Magel wanted her to or not. After she caught up with Camila, she agreed to come back to the cabins and stay with her. In the morning they would talk to Mrs Magel.

They walked back to the wooden cabins. Talking about what they should do the next day.

As the early morning rose, the teachers came to wake everyone. Going from cabin 1-20. As Mrs Magel came to Cabin 3, she jumped at the sight of Camila.

“Who is this?!”, she asked as she grabbed Camila by the arm.

“Mrs Magel, that aint how you say good mornin’ now. This is Camila. ‘Er other school left ‘er behind and she’s been takin’ shelter in the cabins, but when we came, she ‘ad to go to the woods. She has nowhere to go. Just- miss look at ‘er.”, Gemma continued to tell her teacher how she found her. Despite her getting into trouble for being outside alone at night, Mrs Magel hesitantly agreed to let Camila stay.

Little did they know that Camila was not who they thought she was, instead a manipulative demon…

Camila became popular when she was introduced to the rest of the class. Everyone was all over her, asking questions like the nosy news reporters back at central New York. Camila didn’t seem to be fazed by the others and answered them like a pro. Had she been discovered by other students from other school, who were rude enough to just leave her alone? Or was she one of those popular girls at her old school, who knew?

As the day continued, Camila and Gemma stayed together and helped with everything. They began to become close friends. And by the end of the day, Camila knew everything about Gemma and Gemma knew everything about Camila.

Mrs Magel called everyone outside into the greenspace. They were going to play a game, to reward them for their work during the day. (Today was just a working day, getting the campsite cleaned up).

“All right everyone before we play the chosen game for today, I have some exciting news,” she smiled happily that it seemed scary, “Tomorrow we will be going a hike through the woods and up into those hills!”

She turned to point at the far away green hills. You could barely even see them as they were hidden behind a few long pine trees. The class groaned.

“That sounds lie fun, why are you all moaning?”, Camila spoke up.

“That’s the attitude. Well done Camila.”, the teacher praised her.

Camila smiled. She had told Gemma that she loves the outdoors and wouldn’t complain if they were going on hikes. When Gemma told her that she was the complete opposite they laughed.

“Ok, today we are going to play a game of catch with a twist. During the game you must be silent and quick. When the ball is thrown to you, if you catch it your fine but if you miss the catch you aren’t out yet. You have a chance to still be in the game. If the ball has been passed to more than three people, whilst you run around the circle, you are then out. Remember if I hear you, even just a whisper, your also out.”, Mrs Magel started the game by throwing the ball to Camila.

The game went on without anyone dropping the ball and so the teacher tried to make it harder. Finally, after some time, the ball started to be dropped.

As the game continued to go on for a few more minutes Camila kept winning every round so Mrs Magel had to take her out for a few rounds. Once other people started to win, she put her back in, but as soon as she passes the ball to another student their hand seemed to be freeze. Ice growing out from their fingertips and grew around their palms. In a few seconds, their whole hand was covered in an ice block. Teena who had been the victim of this mysterious incident screamed when saw what happened. Mrs Magel shrieked out and took her to the First Aid Room.  

“You continue on playing,” she gave Camila a strange look and continued to take Teena.

“What the hell was that?”, Michael stepped forward and picked up the ball.

“I don’t know that was weird.”, Gemma replied.

Everyone turned to look at Camila, what had she done?

“Do you have powers or somethin’ ‘cos that was strange? Your weird.”, someone in the back said, it was Katie.

“Excuse you, don’t talk to me like that!”, then she threw herself on top of Katie.

They started to fight each other. Shrieking and arguing.

“Camila! Stop that!”, Gemma shouted.

“Shut up!”, she cried.

Gemma grabbed Camila off the floor and pushed her to the side. Camila brushed herself off and stormed off to the cabins. Gemma chased after her.

  Camila

 I ran away from the others. Who did that girl think she was? Ugg if it hadn’t been for Gemma, I would have KILLED HER! Slamming the cabin door open I sat down on my friends’ bed and unrolled my sleeve. Good, its still there. I am lucky I didn’t change. Staring at the blank wooden cabin walls, Gemma came in. Quickly I rolled my sleeve back up.

“What was that outside?”, she said.

“Leave me alone! I haven’t been around others lately.”, I got up of the bed, “I didn’t do anything to Teena, I don’t know what happened out there, but I didn’t do it.”

“I believe you but its not about that. You threw yourself onto Katie!”

“Don’t you not like her anyway?”

“Yes, but you shouldn’t have done that. Like her or not.”

Suddenly I felt a tingly sensation in my arm, uh oh I was going ti change. I do not know why I can’t control it. If she sees me, I must kill her.

“Sorry, I need to go. Ill be back in a few minutes.”, my voice lowered, and Gemma gave me a puzzled look and nodded. Quickly I ran out of the room and ran into the woods behind our cabin. I liked it when I changed though. I roam around killing. I was going to kill Gemma when I saw her the other night but when she offered me to stay in the cabins with her and meet the other students then I knew it would be the perfect opportunity to do some work. The dark clouds began to spill out rain.

“HLEEO WAHT ARE YUO DINOG HREE? I JTSU WNANA PALY. FLOLOW ME!”

I stood in front of the little girl. So, her name was Katie. She was a thin girl, brown hair. Pretty eyes, too. My hand tightened as I squeezed the air out of her, like a helium balloon, what fun! My long nails digging into her arms, I want to inflict as much pain I can as possible.

“DNOT CYR IST OLNY GNONA HRUT A LTLTIE BTI.”, I laughed.

Now was she scared? If she was lying before then now, she was.

Katie dropped onto the floor, weak and lifeless. I got my sharpest nail and sliced her neck off, clean.

“Goodbye Katie.”, and with that I turned back into Camila. An innocent girl, who secretly found joy in killing not just enemies but friends too.

Walking out of the woods, I took good care to clean myself off and for no one to see me. When I walked back into the cabins, I saw Gemma had gone. I went out the front door to see where she had gone, but there was no sign of anyone.

Eventually I found them all in the First Aid Room. This was bad, if they found Katie’s body out there, they would know somethings up. So, I blended in, everyone didn’t even notice that I had been gone for the last half hour.

Aww, they were all worried about poor Teena, I thought sarcastically, pathetic humans.                  

             Gemma

 As soon as Camila left in a hurry, Michael walked into the room. Quickly, she turned around to see what he was doing.

“Why are you here?”, she asked.

“We are all gonna go check on Teena wanna come?”

“Yeah, sure I’ll be there in a sec…”

“Alright.”, then he went.

Gemma sat down, she felt sick to her stomach suddenly. Then she noticed something, when Camila left, she noticed something weird about her friend. Before she left, her voice changed. Like…it was getting deeper or something. She didn’t know. Shaking her head, she left the cabin, trying to keep herself stable, and went to the First Aid Room. When she walked in, she saw Teena’s hand being stuck in a boiling pot of water. Teena was screaming, not in pain but in sheer fear. Fear that her hand would be stuck in an ice block or boil and pieces would clump off. She had seen it before…

“It’s okay. Teena all you need to do is stop-stop screaming it is okay.”, Mrs Magel encouraged.

Gemma didn’t want to look anymore. She turned around.

A few minutes later, around twenty minutes or so, Gemma noticed Camila had returned but acted as if she hadn’t seen her. Maybe she was still upset about it.

“Hey, Gemma, can I talk to you for a sec?”, her friend asked.

“Yeah sure.”, grabbing her arm tightly she led her out of the door.

When they stepped outside the wind suddenly brushed up the leaves in the direction of the woods, where Katie’s body lay lifelessly on the ground.

“What’s wrong Camila?”

“I-I I don’t know how to explain it but I kindaaaa……”

“Kinda what?”

“I kinda- might have something to do with the freezing of Teena’s hand,” she said as she darted her eyes around                 and played with her fingers, “I’m not saying I did it, I just might have like broken her hand and then because of the cold weather I thought, ‘hey it might be funny if I put water on the ball and see if it freezes her hand.”

“Ok? Why are you tellin’ me this now?”

“I just wanted you to know.” She smiled.

Gemma smiled back and together they walked to the cabins. She then told her about how she couldn’t bear to watch Teena anymore. Camila offered for a walk in the woods, apparently, she had seen a swing in there and they probably could fit on it, both. Agreeing they set off to the woods.

“It should be near here somewhere, it’s kinda deep in.”, Camila said.

“Ok.”, Gemma was excited, she liked swings, but she didn’t tell anyone because everyone would think that she was a baby or something. Slowly they continued walking deeper and deeper into the forest. As they got closer to the said swing, they stumbled upon something sinister. Something that scarred Gemma. Lying on the floor of an oak tree was a body, a body Gemma definitely knew.

Katie’s…

Her head was cut off, her arm scratched deeply by something that looked like claws. Blood was still pouring out of her, spread around the tree and dirt. Gemma felt sick to her stomach. Camila helped her as she ran a few trees behind to vomit. Before she chased her, Camila grabbed Katie’s beheaded head. She smiled at her and spoke. “Have a great day in HELL!” and ran after Gemma.

“Are you okay, I’m so sorry I didn’t even- “

“Its okay…okay…”, she breathed heavily.

Straightening herself, Gemma suggested they should go back and inform Mrs Magel about their discovery. Camila said no!

“We can’t, not yet. I think we must keep it a secret. No one can know, got it?”, Gemma nodded in response and together, trying to ignore Katie’s decomposing body, and walked back to camp.

Gemma’s lips quivered in fear, she was the only one who knew, (apart from Camila), and she just didn’t know how she could ever keep this a secret. There was a murderer among them.

As the minutes went by, the students in the First Aid Room were piled out as the ambulance came and collected Teena.

Gemma had to leave now no matter what!

Dinner wasn’t the same as it was on the first day, everyone was confused about the events of today. Gemma was affected the most, she had seen something she had never seen before. But Camila, on the other hand, seemed fine. As if it was normal to see a dead corpse on the ground of a creepy forest. Gemma had guessed it was because she just killed animals all the time, so she wasn’t that troubled by it.

At the end of dinner, Gemma grabbed some sweets and went into the bathroom, she had to relax. She had to take time and think about what she had just seen. Gathering up all her thoughts she opened the door. The toilet was dark, unlike it had been before. Probably the light just wasn’t automatic like she thought it was. Walking into the room and closing the door behind her, she searched for the light switch. Maybe it was outside, and she had missed it but when she had checked there was no switch. Gemma gave up completely and then realized there was a small amount of light coming from the full moon outside, so she used it to her advantage.

Now, where was she? Oh yes, she had to plan her escape and she was going to bring Camila with her now. They had to leave now, more than ever.

The scrunched-up map was still in her jeans. Pulling it out slowly she sighed deeply. What was going on?

No-one needed to use the bathroom, so she was in the whole time, planning out everything perfectly. Sadly, there was no signal at camp and Mrs Magel had taken away all the phone when they arrived.

Wait, what time was it?

1:30am?! Sitting inside the bathroom, she had completely lost track of time. Getting up in a panic, she tried to open the door, but it was locked tight. Fumbling with the doorknob, she banged at the door. Oh, for god’s sake, she had stayed behind after dinner Mrs Magel had locked the door! Oh no!

How could she get out now? Helplessly panicking she prayed for someone to save her. To need to use the toilet during the night. To wake Mrs Magel from her sleep.

“HELP! HELP! CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?! IM STUCK INSIDE THE TOILET? CHEF? MRS MAGEL? CAMILA? ANYONE?!"

Continuously she banged at the door all night, but no-one came to save her. Giving in she sat back down and put her laid her head against the wall. What was the point anymore?

Her mum had told her, “Sometimes you need to give up and just go home. If you know there’s nothing for you there then just go!”, it wasn’t the best of advice and Gemma didn’t really know why it had popped into her head now. She had also said, “Stop looking for the answers look at what Is given or in front of you.” Then her face lit up, searching a for a way to go. For a way to leave. If she wanted to escape, she had to be able to escape a small bathroom, right? Maybe she was being tested, tested for her strength.

Darting her eyes around the room, they set on a small thin window on the roof, Gemma was small enough to fit through it. Grabbing the edge of the sink bowl and placing her leg on the cupboards, she was able to mount herself up and stand straight. The window wasn’t open but through it she could see into the woods and the other cabins just in the corner. Grabbing the window handle, she pushed it with all her strength. Falling forwards, she almost fell off the counter.

“I just needa wriggle out here, slowly…”, whispering, she pulled herself up and through the window. Now she was half in and half out. Suddenly, looking at the gravel ground made her dizzy, she wasn’t even more than 2 meters high and yet she felt as if she would faint, and that was exactly what happened…

  In the morning, she woke up to the loud noise of shouting and murmurs of other students. Although she was aware of people and could hear voices, they were all blurry and muffled. She shook her head and found herself in the First Aid Room. How had she been teleported from being stuck in the middle of the toilet window to lying in a sick bed?

Then it came to her realization that she had fainted and been rescued by Mrs Magel when she was doing night cabin check. She had forgotten all about that. Gemma hadn’t slept all night and maybe that was the reason she had fainted when she had. Her head throbbed and everything was swirling around. The noise in the room grew louder and louder until it became to loud to even bare to hear.

“Now, now get out let’s give- “, she could make out a few words from her teacher.

“Where-? Where am I?”, she said getting up from the sick bed and sitting up.

“Oh, Gemma your awake,” Mrs Magel turned her head.

Nodding her head, she rubbed the bridge of her nose. Suddenly, her back started to ache. Like she had hit it hard or something.

“Are you alright?”, her teacher asked, looking at Gemma like she was crazy.

“Yeah, yeah im fine. How did you- how did you find me?”

“Well, I saw you lying in the ground and got some help from the nurse. You fainted. How long where you stuck inside the toilet and what were you even doing?���

“I ermm-“, what was her best excuse?, “I erm- I slept. Yeah, I slept in the toilet I was really tired. Didn’t get no sleep last night, you know what I mean?”, she laughed nervously.

“Oh ok, just rest. You need it.”, her teacher turned halfway before turning back to face Gemma, “Have you seen Katie by any chance?”

OH NO, they are onto them. Camila said if anyone knew there would be a big problem. But she couldn’t lie to her teacher, (she had lied to her multiple times but this wasn’t a time where it would be any fun or good to lie, this was a genuine and creepy problem.)

“No, sorry haven’t seen her", and with that answer Mrs Magel nodded and left.

Gemma spent the rest of the day in the First Aid Room being constantly checked over by the nurse and her teacher. As the night rolled in the visits became less frequent until they stopped completely.

A scream. A scream that shrills in the night. It grew longer and longer.

Gemma woke up, and dashed straight out of bed. However, was screaming was still screaming and they would still be alive, right? Grabbing her slippers, she slid out of the room. Surprisingly no-one had woken up. Where was the scream coming from?

From inside the forest. She didn’t dare to go in by herself but she had to, find out who was screaming and what was going on. Was it the murderer who had killed Katie??

Cautiously approaching the Woodlands, passing through the high standing trees. Gemma walked slower and slower as she walked deeper into the forest. Searching her pockets for a possible flashlight she found a small ring that had a light, her pockets really did have everything! The light was small though not enough to see in front of her but she had to make do. She switched it on and continued walking.

The scream was still going and now it started to sound closer. Finally she was getting closer but then at that moment she felt as if the scream was almost- fake. Like there wasn’t really somebody out there needing help or in danger. But she had to shake that feeling off, there was someone is there who needed help and she had to do, she just had to…

When

Like no one was screaming and there wasn’t anyone in danger or needed help. Gemma had to shake of the feeling though, who other than a human can make a scream like this one.

When she reached the spot of where she thought the scream was coming from she found someone on the ground, lying in the cold on the edge of a wooden log. Who was it?

“Hello? Who are ya?”, she asked tilting her head to the side to see who could possibly be out here screaming.

“He-help… Gem-Gemma?”, a croak voice answered, it was Camila. She needed help.

Quickly Gemma walked over to help her friend.

“What happened Camila, “she noticed a big gash in her stomach and her hands we blue, they were freezing up! She was left out here to bleed. To die!

“Gemma I-I can’t be fixed, just leave me out here…”, Camila was getting weaker and weaker there would be no way for her to carry her back I into camp. She had to find help, but, where could she? They were deep inside the forest. So, she had to try another way:

“Help!! Hello?? Camila is-", her scream was cut off by Camila's hand covering her mouth. But Camila can’t stand up because her stomach was cut open! Wait…

“Shhh-shhhhh….”, she whispered.

“What are you doing”, her voice muffled.

Suddenly Camila started to transform into something inhuman. Something that looked like it came out of your nightmares.

White colored piercing teeth, like needles. Her hair became pale, just utterly white. Her hands and nails began to extend and soon they became so pointed that if you unintentionally touched her your head would chop of, which was what exactly happened to Katie…

“Cam-Camila? What are you…you?”, Camila took her hand of her mouth and put a finger on her lip, silencing Gemma again.

“TIHS IS A FNU GMAE INST IT”, she smiled and as she did her mouth unhinged dropping down and her teeth scratching against her chin.

“No-no not fun, not fun at all”, Gemma replied horrified.

Camila dragged her sufferer to the log and told her to stay put. But Gemma wasn’t just going to linger around for her to kill her she was going to make a run for it. Nodding her head, she watched as the monster walked into the trees and around them again… she was playing the waiting game. As Camila went back around the tree, Gemma saw it as her chance to run, to dash and leave. Leave forever and never come back to this hell. Camp really was the worst.

Gemma shot up and sprinted into the darkness. Weirdly, Camila wasn’t chasing  after her, she just waved her goodbye and continued on circling the trees, this wasn’t right. Why wasn’t Camila chasing after her?

Then she found out…

Camila was incredibly fast. Super-fast that when she ran you couldn’t even see her. Seizing Gemma by the neck she dashed back into the forest.

“HELP! HELP MEEEEE….”, she screamed into the night air but it was no use the monster has frozen her lips shut.

She smirked.

When they arrived back to the log, Gemma was becoming weaker and weaker. It was time to finish her. Time to end Gemma’s life of nothing but misery and sadness…

  Camila

 Finally, my plan was coming together, and her plan was failing, she was the last one left… the last one I needed to kill. I couldn’t wait to see the blood pour out of her and the ice cube turn a beautiful dark red color.

 Raising my hand I paused, I had to tell her something,

“I ARLEDAY KLELID EVYREOEN SO TREHE WSA RALELY NO PONIT IN SOTPIPNG YUO” and lowered my hand. Slicing her neck in half, I froze her head it a huge ice block.

My job here was done.

Turning to walk away, I looked back at Gemma, her body lifeless and blood pouring out of her neck, filling the ice block around her head with frozen blood. It was beautiful and now I knew I was capable of more than just murder.

I walked out of the woods and back to the first place I saw the class walking into the camp, right into my trap…

Now I sit here, watching and waiting for you to come,

Trust me when you’ve met me there’s nowhere run,

My freezing hands,

Will ruin your camping plans,

As I slice your neck,

I’ll make you a wreck,

Now I sit with you, you don’t know who I really am,

And when I show you my true self,

You’ll become a prize on my iceshelf.

Goodbye Gemma… :)

[chromecutie]

Not A Ghost - part 34

A/N - Multi-part fic. Colossus x OC where OC has come home after being wrongfully imprisoned in the Icebox. Warnings for whole fic - references and flashbacks to harsh prison environment, including various types of abuse. Takes place shortly after events in Deadpool 2. Whole thing will end up on my AO3 eventually.

Masterlist on my profile!

Taglist: @emma-frxst  @ra-ra-rasputiin  @holamor ​  @empressme-bitch  @marvel-is-perfection  @hazilyimagine ​ @marvelhead17 @rovvboat @angstybadboytrash ​ @whitewitchdown ​ @master-sass-blast ​ @mori-fandom @mooleche @dandyqueen @emberbent @leo-writer . Wanna be added or removed? Holla at me.

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

As Cable zipped his bags and hefted them to his shoulder in the hangar, he heard someone call behind him. He turned to find Russell hurrying up to him.

"I want to come with you," he said, "to help Wade."

Cable was struck by the earnestness in the boy's voice. But just because they had managed to stop him from killing that headmaster just months ago didn't mean he couldn't pick up a taste for killing some other time. "Wade wouldn't want you going back to the Icebox," Cable said. "It's gonna get ugly--"

"I can use my fire to keep things clear for us!” he urged. He patted his palms on his chest and forced a smile, “I can help! Ellie and Yukio are going."

"I'm not sure they are," Cable hedged. "Even so, they're X-Men. Fully trained. You’re still a student." He started to turn away.

Russell wilted. "Can't I do anything to help?" 

Cable sighed and turned back to the boy. "You already have," he assured him. "You helped confirm the layout." When the furrow in Russell’s brow deepened, Cable’s own frown softened. It reminded him too much of telling his wife and daughter goodbye before missions. He gave Russell a variation of the promise he always gave his daughter, “Hang tight, kid. We’ll have them home as soon as we can.” He turned again, and had to dodge Ellie and Yukio running to the jet.

Yukio was on her girlfriend’s heels as she bounded to the jet’s ramp. Freshly showered and without her usual makeup, Ellie’s hair was unstyled and fluttered in short pieces around her eyes. “Colossus!” she shouted. Her hands were set in hard fists.

Colossus strode down the ramp, palms plaintive. “Negasonic,” he answered, “We have been through this--”

“I’m a full member of X-Men,” Ellie snapped, “and you can’t tell me not to volunteer for a mission!” She set a packed duffle bag on the ramp and crossed her arms.

It was time to get moving. Colossus shook his head impatiently, “Rhonda was clear. She does not want you two to see the Icebox.”

NTW’s chin jutted forward. “She’s not here to stop me.” When Colossus didn’t relent, she scoffed, “Did you forget who helped you take down the Juggernaut?” For not being Rhonda’s biological daughter, she certainly had her stubbornness. 

“No one is doubting your capabilities,” Colossus assured her as he shifted his weight. He thought of all Rhonda’s scars, and how many new ones she might be coming home with, and the risks posed to younger, less experienced X-Men. “It’s not only the DMC officers we have to worry about - the other inmates are just as dangerous, if not more so.” 

Ellie rolled her eyes. “They have collars--”

Yukio tried to mediate, black and pink ponytail swinging as she swivelled her head between them, “You have Cable, Domino, Beast, Storm, Kurt, and yourself. Maybe that’s enough for all the officers, but the inmates? Like you said, collars or no collars,” she gave Ellie a pointed look, “they’ll be dangerous too. You could use more help. Our help.”

Colossus countered, “We will have Rhonda and Wade, once we get their collars off.”

Ellie and Yukio shared a look. Ellie’s shoulders drooped slightly. “When this happened before, I was too young to help. But now,” her voice cracked and she huffed a sigh, "I've never called her 'Mom,' but you know what she is to me. I'm not just standing by when I can help."

He briefly clenched his jaw, then his demeanor softened. "You two will stay close together?"

Ellie gave an indignant frown, but before she could make a retort, Yukio interjected, "Yes, and we will stay close to you. Give you cover." She elbowed Ellie, who nodded.

Finally, he relented. "If you promise to stay together and stay close…" he jerked his head toward the interior of the jet, turned, and went to strap into a seat for takeoff. The young women hustled after him.

--

The solitary unit was kept in the coldest part of the Icebox. No windows, dim lighting, and cold enough for an inmate to see their own breath. The blood on Rhonda's forehead had dried, the scrape above her eyebrow starting to scab over. She hadn't bothered to wash her hands, and Calhoun's blood crusted under her fingernails. Her eyes still burned and watered, but less severely. She couldn’t feel her nose or fingertips. Resigned, defeated, she stared at the ceiling until she could see shapes moving like clouds. The new X on her arm had a long tail wrapping around her forearm because of how she'd rolled away from the hand making it. It was swollen and red. Already infected.

There were shuffling footsteps and the squeal of a rolling cart's wheel that halted in front of Rhonda's solitary cell. A tray scraped along the floor through the slot in the door. Rhonda made no move for it, or even turned her head to look, staring listlessly upward from her cot. 

"Guestbook, darling," a familiar voice murmured gently, "you did so well. You only had to incapacitate Calhoun, but I don’t mind him being dead. You gave me what I needed. And then some."

Goosebumps already pebbled Rhonda's flesh, but a new chill sank into her bones. "Mimi?" 

"With Calhoun dead,” she spoke softly, “that means Burton will be stationed at the yard. And Sinclair will be moved from the cell blocks to Burton's spot in the mess hall. Macias will be moved to cover the cell blocks, which means the control office will be stationed by my very own Robinson."

Tendrils of hope crept up Rhonda's throat. "Are you here to let me out?" 

Mimi chortled, and it made Rhonda’s stomach turn with dread. "You killed a guard. I can't get you out. You'll have to wait for your friends. If they're actually coming."

“Wait--” but the squealing wheel started again, fading as Mimi brought the other isolated inmates their dinner. Rhonda took a shaky breath as tears stung her eyes.

--

Wade still had the torn sleeve wrapped around one fist as he forced down his dinner. When Mimi rolled the cart back in from the solitary unit, he brought his tray to the dishwashers and said with a gritty whisper, “Where is she?”

Mimi rolled her eyes, “Where is who?"

"Your favorite feral raccoon," he retorted, "Rhonda." When Mimi gave him a bored stare, he groaned and resisted the urge to kick the cart over. He rolled his shoulders and popped his neck once and amended, "Guestbook."

Mimi started unloading empty trays from the cart for the dishwashers. "Who are you again?"

Wade took a deep, sharp breath. "Captain Deadpool." A pause. He rolled his eyes. "I came here with Rhonda?"

Mimi flicked her forked tongue and feigned sympathy, "Oh, the pooooor separated lovers.” She let out a hissing laugh and shook her head as she continued stacking the empty trays by the dishwashers.

He struggled not to cough as he demanded, “Why did you get her thrown in solitary?”

The reptilian was blunt, “So they wouldn't kill her.”

“Then…” Wade laid a hand on the last tray to halt her. “Why save her life? I thought you’ve had it in for her before.”

Mimi jerked the tray from under his hands with a frosty glare. “Walk and talk,” she growled. Wade followed her as she waved off a few Vicious 13 members who tried to approach them. “I never tried that hard to have her killed, just made a show of it. Because, honestly? I like that dramatic bitch. If I’d known her while I was working corners, we might have been friends.” She went to the duty roster on a large whiteboard in the mess hall. “If your girl’s in solitary, no one else can take a swing at her until we take the office and let her out. Good enough for you?” She smiled grimly, but it was a challenge.

Wade opened his mouth to speak, then closed it and blinked. “So it’s protective custody. Well...can I go tell her that? I get a feeling you didn’t.”

“Solitary doesn't get visitors,” she returned with raised eyebrows and a shrug. She checked off the duties she had completed and leaned against the board, crossing her arms.

His scarred and pocked face split in a wide grin. “That’s why you did the meal run. Thought that seemed a little beneath you. You’re more of a Trunchbull type to me.” He started eyeing the duty roster. “What about...an errand or something?”

Mimi rolled her eyes. “You don’t need to get in there. She’s not going anywhere.”

An inmate with red hair and an abundance of freckles leaned between them to check off their task on the duty roster. When they left earshot, Wade leaned close to Mimi and said, “I need to know she’s alive, and good enough to fight when it’s time.”

She heaved an annoyed sigh, flashing teeth that were narrow and hooked like a python’s. She took the marker that was velcroed to the board and updated the duty roster with Wade’s name on a new task. “Go tell the dramatic bitch everything will be fine. And get some rest. You better be ready when the moment is right.” She flicked her forked tongue. “You any good with a mop?”

--

The yellow janitor bucket almost matched the yellow of the Icebox inmate jumpsuits. Both were a bad shade of yellow to begin with, a little faded, and full of greenish, brownish, and black marks from scuffs and dirt. Wade barely mopped the hall enough to keep the appearance that he was on janitorial duty. He swished and swiped a sloppy path to the cell number Mimi had told him. He didn’t care if the cameras caught him. If they did, it would take the guards a few minutes to come down here and pull him away anyway. 

“Guess whooo?” Wade said at the door. Silence. “Hey,” he insisted. “Rhonda?” Another beat of silence.

There was a soft sigh and a voice mumbled, “What, Wade?”

“Ohhh thank god you’re alive,” he chuffed a relieved laugh. “I did not wanna have to explain to Colossus, ‘Sorry buddy, wifey lost her shit, wrecked wholesale ass, and then died!’ Haha...ha.”

“Day’s not over yet,” she said flatly. “I still might.”

Wade heard the despair in her voice and let out the longest sigh. “They really hit your head, huh? Well the good news is that Mimi landed you in solitary so nobody can make you disappear before the team gets here.” He crouched and checked the slot for the tray. The food and small carton of milk were still untouched. “Listen to me,” he said firmly as he groaned his way back to his feet, suppressing a cough. “Go to your tray on the floor and pour that milk on your face for the pepper spray. How’s your shoulder?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

The mop slapped on the floor with a little splash as Wade grunted in frustration. “It’s gonna matter soon. If you--” he broke into a fit of coughing. It took him a wheezing moment to catch his breath. He finished with a somber tone, “Depending on how the next couple days go, you might have to fight out of here on your own. Good looks and a great sense of humor only go so far against a bunch of fucking tumors.” He swished the mop around near the next cell and prompted, “You hear me?”

There was a rustling of fabric in Rhonda’s cell. Her voice sounded closer to the door when she said, “Even if they get here before we’re both killed, there’s no way he’ll let me go back. Not after what he sees here.” 

Wade sighed and leaned against the wall by her door. He heard a particular flavor of heartbreak, dread, and self-hatred that was only too familiar. “Look, Colossus sees the best in everyone, and that’s why he’s got that fucking stupid rule about no killing. But it’s also why we love him, right? You wait, he’ll--”

Rhonda’s voice was strained, “This is different.”

“Well,” Wade plopped the mop back in the bucket and started rolling it. “Let’s get through this and find out.”

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

Urchin

Summary: Lift a few bags or starve? For Sam that’s an easy choice to make. Though, sometimes easy choices can change the course of your whole life.  

Warnings: Some gross smell stuff. Nothing too wild. 

A/N: I feel bad that I haven’t had a fic update in a minute but I thought I’d share that the reason is because I’m focusing more on my own content. Def. not leaving fic just what little creative energy I have is going mainly to things not fic related (still getting bits and pieces in here and there though). 

To try and make up for it I thought I’d share some with y’all. This was an exercise that’s turned into a possible prologue for a story I’ve been sitting on for a long time now. I hope y’all like it and would love any feedback you want to share. [Also, I don’t expect any feedback at all since I know y’all are here mainly for fic and not original works.]

Love you pumpkins! 

Lungs burning with effort, feet flying over the steaming concrete, Sam runs faster than she has in her short life. Funny enough, the gnawing beast of hunger that drove her to this place has faded to a low hum, leaving only adrenaline behind.

A giddy laugh trips across her lips as she barely dodges a cluster of tourists. Maybe she was delirious - the situation at hand was dire at best, far from funny, yet still, she laughs. Honestly, she hadn’t felt this good in a long time. 

Gripping a lamp post to keep her worn sneakers from skidding out on the wet pavement she takes a hard left. Her haul, slung over her shoulders and stuffed into the pockets of her ratty cargo shorts, jostles with each stride. The weight of the designer bags and wallets feel like a full belly and maybe even a shower. They feel like some kind of freedom. 

“Get back here you little shit!” A man with a strong Long Island accent screams from somewhere behind her. Well, they would feel like freedom once she shook these assholes. 

Shouldda’ paid more attention, Sammy, she scolds herself silently. Had she seen the PD patrolling the venue she would have picked a different mark… Maybe. 

A row of Peking Duck in a window makes the hunger override everything for just a second. All of Chinatown’s intoxicating scents suddenly plotting to distract her. Before she can be too mesmerized, a far from appetizing smell brings her back to her current predicament. 

The seafood on the sidewalk vendor’s tables looks fresh enough. Down the alley next to him though, something else entirely was happening. 

Sam hears the telltale shuffle of the crowd and immediately sprints into the stench thinking to cut down the alley and behind the buildings, hoping the smell would lead the officers to keep running. 

“Fuck,” she chokes out, slamming into a near palpable wall of stench. Panic bubbles to the surface along with whatever her empty stomach could spare. There wasn’t time for any of that. 

Covering her mouth, forcing the bile back down, she tries to think. This alley was blocked off, if she headed back onto the street she was almost certainly going to get caught - that was simply not an option. 

Looming like a great beast is the source of the smell coating the insides of her nose. It’s a large dumpster, mystery ooze seeping from one corner like blood. Steeling herself, Sam opens the lid. 

Certainly, the waste inside had once had more form than what was there now. Unfortunately, the August heat and afternoon rain had worked a kind of dark alchemy transmuting it into the stuff of nightmares. 

Shouts from far too close seal her fate. With a breath of far-from-fresh air, Sam pulls the neck of her t-shirt over her nose hurling herself into the deepest part of the dumpster’s maw. 

Back pressed into a corner, eyes watering from the heat and overwhelming stink, she listens. 

“Jesus fucking christ!” A man audibly gags. “Ain’t no way she’s down here, Hardy.” 

“Did you see her out there?” Hardy asks, his Long Island accent making him sound all the more put upon. “Cuz I didn’t,” he lets out a breath. “Nowhere else for her to be.”

“Alright, you look. I-” Another gag cuts him off. “Nah. I’m done.”

“The hell you are, Jackson!” 

“You wanna find her so bad you go down there and look!” 

“I don’t wanna have to tell the Sergeant-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jackson grumbles. His steps are muffled but clear enough to make Sam’s heart jump. 

After a minute he huffs, “Nothin’. Just like I said. No one but us is stupid enough to come down here.” Silence hangs. 

“What about there?” Hardy asks. 

“What about- you’re joking right?”

“We need to thoroughly search-” 

“Thoroughly search… Man have you lost your mind?! No way in hell. No. Report me I don’t give a damn.” Jackson’s voice seems to fade as he speaks, clearly heading away from the dumpster. 

“Goddamn kid,” Sam barely hears Hardy say, fairly certain he’s not talking about her. “Nobody said this was supposed to be an easy beat,” his voice closer and closer. 

“If you’re scared of a little garbage,” he pauses to take a shaky breath in front of the dumpster, the smell clearly getting to him. If Sam hadn’t already been holding her breath she would have started. “You should probably go get some suburban gig.”

“You keep stalling old man. Open that beast if you’re so hard,” Jackson taunts from the mouth of the alley.

With a huff, Hardy opens the opposite side of the dumpster. “See it’s-” 

Even though Sam can’t see the man from her position she can feel the moment the stench hits him. With a clatter, the lid falls back in place followed by the clear sound of someone violently hurling. She fights to hold in a laugh. Jackson, however, lets loose. 

He whoops, “Oh, I’m gonna be smelling that shit for a week but it’s so worth it!” 

“Fuck you,” Hardy grunts between retching.

“You find your perp?”

“Fuck,” he gulps in air, “you.” 

Hardy’s boots fade away, “Like, you said, ain’t no one there. Let’s get the fuck outta here.” 

Sam doesn’t move for as long as she can stand it, wanting to be sure they’ve given up their pursuit. Finally, she slithers out of the abyss.

When her eyes spot the place Hardy lost his lunch she can’t hold in the laugh. Sure, she might smell like rotting fish for the rest of her life, but she wasn’t in cuffs and those assholes had to tell their boss they lost to a girl. 

Making her way through the city she feels like Moses, the sea of people parting around her. For once she doesn’t bother keeping her guard up, no one wanted to fuck with someone who looked and smelled like they crawled out of the bowels of the Hudson. 

Carefree, she calculates what she’ll need to do in order to make anything off the bags, hoping there was at least some cash in a few of them so she could eat. Not even the stink could chase away the ache of hunger now. 

Suddenly, Sam finds herself sprawled on the pavement. 

“Oh,” a woman with a foreign accent Sam can’t name speaks, “sorry about that.” Quickly Sam rights herself, looking back to the voice. 

The woman stands from the small sidewalk table she’d be at to pluck her umbrella from the ground. She’s not an overly pretty woman but the kind of person that’s desirable based on their presence alone. Also, with a chilling realization, Sam knows she’s seen her. The clutch in her left pocket suddenly seems very heavy. 

An almost mischievous smile curls the woman’s pale pink lips. “If you’d be so kind as to return my Channel to me I will happily buy you dinner.” She sits, waiting for Sam to respond. 

Maybe Sam was actually turning into a fish, her mouth opening and closing with nothing coming out. The chances of running into this same woman in a city of millions was… impossible. This was impossible. 

“It isn’t very easy to get the drop on me, you know. I can’t even be mad - even though, by the looks of you, that clutch will need to be burned.” With one patent leather pump, she pushes out the chair across from her. “Sit, girl.” It’s not until Sam is already in the chair that she bothers to wonder why she’d simply obeyed. 

Across from her, the woman grins, extending her hand. Sheepishly, she reaches into her pocket for the clutch, decidedly less filthy than the bags across her shoulders though still filmy with that unnamable goo. 

“Thank you,” the woman sets it on the edge of the table and Sam removes the rest of her haul from her shoulders, setting them under her chair. 

A waiter comes up, only barely glancing at Sam. 

“Ah, yes,” the woman beams at the man who appears utterly charmed. “I will take a glass of your best and coldest white and my friend here will have- Hmm,” she seems surprised by something. “I’m not sure. What would you like, darling?” 

“Uh,” what kind of drinks were there, she seems to have forgotten. “I guess a... Coke?” She finally responds after a painfully long pause.

“Excellent,” the waiter nods, disappearing inside. 

The woman studies Sam with unnerving intensity in absolute silence. With each passing moment, Sam inches closer to exploding. When the waiter arrives with their drinks she’s pretty sure she’s never been so happy to see someone. 

“Also, for you,” he holds out a plate with a warm damp cloth. 

“Oh, thanks…” Sam feels her cheeks heat under the grime. She wipes the cloth over her face, trying not to be horrified at the stain left behind. 

“What is your name?” The woman asks, taking a sip of wine, clearly savoring the taste. 

“Sam.” 

Her eyes narrow, “Not a Samantha, I think.”

“No,” she shakes her head. “Samara.” The sweet Coke chases away the taste of rotten fish for a glorious moment.

“Samara,” the woman echos, the syllables sounding much prettier on her tongue. “That’s a beautiful name.” She takes a pensive sip, “It means guardian, did you know that?” Sam shakes her head. 

“It’s good that you do now. Our names are powerful things, Samara. They hold secrets about what fate may bring our way.” 

Sam holds in a bitter laugh. If that was the case then fate had a sick sense of humor when it came to her. Once again the woman studies her in silence. 

“So…” Sam swallows hard, “What’s your name?”

The woman smiles slowly, “I told you names were powerful.” Sam nods. “You do not give away powerful things for free, my dear.” 

“Please,” the woman gestures to the menu before Sam, “pick whatever you’d like.” 

Half of the menu looks like it’s the type of food you finish in two bites and leave still hungry but gloriously, there is a burger. Sam orders that, with an extra patty and double the fries, her mouth watering so hard at the prospect that she has to fight to keep from drooling. 

“I can see only two explanations to our earlier exchange, Samara,” the woman pops a piece of bread in her mouth - Sam had already shoveled half the basked down her gullet. “Either, I’m getting old and rusty-” honestly, the woman could be anywhere from her mid-twenties to her 40’s, she certainly didn’t seem old- “or you are one hell of a little thief.” Sam fixes her eyes on the tablecloth. 

“You misunderstand me, Samara.” Sam looks back up at her. “I don’t mean that as an insult. Given that getting rusty is a very bad thing in my line of work, I’d much rather the latter be true than the former.” 

The waiter arrives, the prospect of food distracting Sam from the woman’s odd statement. Though she wants to maintain some form of decorum she can’t help but apply herself to the plate in earnest. It had been so long since she’d tasted anything half as good. To her credit, the woman doesn’t bat an eye. 

After Sam made it through half her plate she asks, “Are you alone in the world, child?” Her somber tone slows Sam’s pace. 

She feels she should be more afraid of this peculiar woman. After being on the street for a couple of years, it was impossible to not have heard the stories of girls being lured into trafficking rings or a pimp’s clutches by women who tried to gain their trust. Sam liked to think she was too smart for that. Only weak people fell for that kind of bullshit. And yet… 

“Yeah.” 

“It is a hard world for women. Even harder when we are alone.” Sam’s french fries almost get stuck on the lump of tension in her throat. “Yet you have clearly gained the skill you need to survive. That’s something to be proud of.” 

This time Sam can’t help but laugh, “Sure. Proud.” She shakes her head, “Lady, I’m covered in fish viscera because I had to hide from two incompetent cops in a dumpster today. I don’t think pride is the right word.” 

“You outsmarted two grown men,” the woman’s smile seems genuine. “Trained law officers - whatever that’s worth,” she raises a brow and Sam laughs once more. “You did what most wouldn’t have thought of or been willing to. On top of successfully pulling off a pretty impressive mark.” 

Was she honestly congratulating Sam on her delinquency? The absurdity of it all was too much suddenly and if she was being honest with herself, it was also unnerving. 

“What’s this all about, lady?”

The woman steeples her fingers before her, “I have a proposition for you.” She gives Sam a moment before continuing. “Someone with skill and a will such as yours is bursting with potential. I know people who can help you tap into that potential.” She opens the clutch and removes a card holding it across the table. Sam hesitates before accepting. 

A familiar lion in profile graces the front of the card beside text reading New York Public Library. Flipping the thick cardstock over Sam sees a name, number, and the address of the main branch. Nothing strange. 

“You inviting me to join your book club or something?”

“Something,” the woman’s smile is slow, knowing. She stands, picking up her bag. 

“Bring that card to the library anytime. Ask for, Rita.” She takes a few steps away before turning back. 

“I will not promise you that what you’ll find after will be easy. However, you’ll have a full belly and something more than just survival to strive for. I think sometimes, that is enough.” 

“Hold up!” Sam stands, sending the chair skittering across the concrete. 

“Good evening, Samara. Perhaps fate will allow us to meet again.” In moments the woman disappears down the street. 

Sam considers chasing her but instead collapses into the chair, staring at the business card until the waiter returns

“Here you are,” he sets the bill on the table. Given everything that just transpired, Sam expected to open the little black folder to find some hidden message, or instructions to meet a stranger under the bridge, honestly, anything but the check which was dangerously close to the triple-digit mark. 

That bitch, Sam thinks before a much more pressing issue pushes her anger to the side. As if he can sense the situation the waiter hadn’t stepped away from the table, instead, he stands expectantly for her to magically produce some method of payment. 

Given her appearance, the prospect of rifling through several bags until she produced said payment seemed like a sure way to make her earlier endeavors to maintain her freedom worthless. She smiles up at the man, hoping she looks like an innocent - though filthy - little urchin and not the subway rat she actually was. 

Taking a deep breath, Sam grips the side of the small bistro table farthest from the waiter. With one heft she sends it toppling into him. Ignoring the protests echoing down the street she bolts into the fading evening light, the bags from earlier forgotten in a tangle and the business card clutched tight in her hand. 

[sambergscott]

the lowest of the low (but i like you anyway)

Summary: Jake Peralta is a cop. Amy Santiago is a defence attorney. Surprisingly, they hit it off. 

Jake’s day has already got off to an exceptionally crappy start.

First, his alarm didn’t go off. Then, when he woke up with five minutes to get ready and get out the apartment, he remembered he forgot to pay his bills and had to take the quickest (and coldest) shower in the world. If he had time he’d call the Guinness Book of World Records. (It’s his childhood dream to be in the Guinness Book of World Records). But he doesn’t have time. He has to be in court in -- he checks his phone -- two and a half minutes.

Speaking of court, the final nail in the coffin of his terrible day -- Rosa Diaz, the defence attorney assigned to his latest case, the only defence attorney he can tolerate enough to have a beer with after a long day of questioning, decided to take a three month trip to Argentina to find her boyfriend, an ex-cop by the name of Pimento who went slightly insane after a long undercover op. Meaning he has to deal with one of Rosa’s colleagues all day. He shudders at the thought. He hopes it’s not that slimeball Rosa refers to as ‘The Vulture’, aptly named because he swoops in and steals all her dopest cases. Or Hitchock, who is totally incompetent and has famously never won a case in his entire forty year career. Nobody knows how he still has a job.

In fact, he hates pretty much every defence attorney he’s ever had the misfortune of coming up against. They’re the lowest of the low. Jake’s job is to catch the bad guys. Defence attorneys let them go free. Even when it’s obvious they’ve done the thing they’re accused of.

There was that one attorney last year though -- Sophia Perez. She was gorgeous, smart and loved Die Hard. They dated for a few months, but it would never have worked out long-term. Cops and defence attorneys are simply incompatible.

He’s sweating when he arrives at the court building, having ran about fifteen blocks because there was some protest on the Subway and of course traffic was a nightmare on the one day of the week he didn’t have to be at the precinct and actually needed to be somewhere on time.

There’s a dark-haired woman in a grey pantsuit waiting for him in the foyer, presumably Diaz’s replacement. He’s never seen her before so she must be new. Desperate to make a good impression so she won’t be too hard on him in there, he paints a friendly smile onto his face.

“Detective Jake Peralta,” he introduces himself.

“Amy Santiago,” she responds, shaking his hand and wow, her handshake is firm. “I took a seminar,” she explains like she can read his mind.

He suddenly has a million questions. Where do you take a seminar on handshakes? Why? How long did it last? Etc. etc. But before he can ask any of them, they’re being called into court and they’re suddenly enemies. Rival sports players staring each other down. Animals fighting over food in the wild. His only mission is to send her client to prison.

Which, as it turns out, is a lot more difficult than he thought.

She is very thorough. She’s combed through every detail of the case (an impressive feat, considering she was only assigned last minute), picked out the gaps in the evidence, presented the jury with a new alibi and even underlined Jake’s spelling errors with red pen. As she questions him, he begins to doubt whether he even believes the case he built up against this guy anymore and finds himself wishing Rosa had stayed in the country. Hell, Santiago is so good, he wishes Hitchcock were here.

Inevitably, she gets her client off scot-free and Jake would be appalled if he wasn’t so impressed (and, to be honest, a little turned on).

Then he remembers she’s a defence attorney, which means she’s basically Satan, and he can’t have sex with Satan. He forces himself to remember how it ended with Sophia, how she broke up with him after he said “I love you” and she told him she didn’t love him back. It was cold-blooded.

He heads to the nearest bar, in serious need of some Scotch to forget about his crappy day, his crappy love life and the crappy defence attorney who wiped away several days of tough police work.

Of course she’s at the bar when he walks in.

And of course the only free seat is next to her at the bar.

Cursing the universe, he sits down, orders his drink and tries to ignore her. He really does. They both know her client was guilty. But she somehow used her slimy lawyer ways to convince the jury that the evidence wasn’t enough to prove, without a shadow of a doubt, that he did it. It was deplorable. Yet, for some reason, he can’t ignore her.

“I don’t like defence attorneys,” he says, setting the record straight nice and early. “I think you all suck.”

“I think cops suck,” she responds, valiantly sticking up for herself. “You’re corrupt, you arrest innocent people, you’re way too trigger-happy and you’re always late to court.”

He rolls his eyes. “Today was an exception. My alarm didn’t go off.”

“You don’t have a back-up alarm?” She scoffs. “That’s just asking for trouble.”

He rolls his eyes again. 

“The rest of my points stand.”

“The NYPD has its issues. Lots of them,” he agrees.

“Then why did you become a cop?” She probes. It’s not hard to see why she’s so good at her job. She’s easy to talk to and he finds himself opening up to her, about being raised by a single mom and wanting to protect her.

“Also I love Die Hard,” he adds at the end of his heartfelt speech.

Now is Amy’s turn to roll her eyes. “Alright, John McClane, I was about to say how sweet your reason for becoming a cop was and you ruined it.”

“Damn,” he curses half-heartedly.

She laughs, tucking her hair behind both ears at the same time.

“Why did you decide to join Satan’s Army then?” He questions, nudging her playfully.

“My parents are cops. My grandfather was a cop, too. My brother David joined the Academy my Senior Year of High School and I don’t know, I just... wanted to help people in another way, you know?”

“I get it,” he replies. “I mean, I don’t get it. Your job is literally to reverse everything I do, but I get that you’re doing the right thing. Like a necessary evil.”

“Thanks. I suppose I should buy you a drink since I kicked your butt back there. You’re probably thirsty.”

“My butt would love another drink,” he grins, making her laugh again. And even more so than the alcohol, he loves that sound. He wants to hear it again. He wants to hear it again every day for the rest of his life. Which is crazy because of their jobs and what happened with Sophia and the fact that they’ve only just met, but it also feels right. Really right. “My butt would also love to go on a date with you,” he bites the bullet and, of all the ways he’s ever asked a pretty girl out, mentioning his butt is a technique he’s never used before, but Amy’s smiling, which he takes to mean it has been successful.

“My butt would like that, too,” she confirms.

“Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool,” he murmurs, sipping the drink the bartender just slid his way.

They end up hanging out and chatting and laughing until the bar closes and the security guy has to tell them to leave.

It turns out, for a defence attorney, she’s not that bad. In fact, she’s actually pretty great. He discovers that she has seven (seven!) brothers, is Cuban and is deathly allergic to dogs. He explains to her why he loves Die Hard so much, that the Mets are the second love of his life and that he is allergic to bees and wasps. He reminds her how much he dislikes defence attorneys every second sentence.

Outside the bar, she rises to her tiptoes and kisses him. “How do you feel about them now?” She asks coyly, biting her lip.

“You’re certainly changing my mind,” he teases, leaning in for another kiss. Feeling bold, he asks if she’d like to come back to his place. “If you wanna take things slow that’s totally fine,” he quickly amends because he thinks this could be Good and he doesn’t want to ruin it already.

“Normally my boring lawyer brain would tell me to take things slow, but,” she pauses, then repeats his words, “you’re certainly changing my mind.”

As they climb into a taxi, grinning at each other like idiots, he can’t help but think his exceptionally crappy day has turned out... well, not crappy at all.

[starkerforlife6969]

Secretary Peter, Boss Tony. With a twist ;)

Tony’s the best goddamn salesman in the office. Hell, in Wallstreet. He can move stocks, he can sell stocks, he can throw a life raft to the drowning man or sink the ship himself. 

He’s charismatic, handsome, and about as in style as his tailored three piece suits, which is to say- very and always in style. He’d graduated from desk jockey to cubicle drone to glass corner office in three short years and he has a floor full of people desperately in awe of him, vying for scraps of attention or pieces of wisdom. 

And Tony loves his job. He loves talking to people, he loves working his charm, he loves winning and he loves money and he loves not having to answer to anyone. 

And he doesn’t answer to anyone, except from- aside from that one pesky exception- in Nick Fury. 

He owns the whole company, so technically Tony reports to him, but Nick’s practically never here so Tony’s the one in charge. 

Apart from this week, apparently, because when he walks in on Monday morning it’s to see Nick in his office, that trademark furious glare that’s really poorly concealed behind what Tony supposes is meant to be a welcoming smile. He doesn’t break stride though, just saunters into his desk and grins. “I see you helped yourself into my office.” He says cheerily. 

“It’s not your office, Tony.” Nick growls, closing the door and standing in front of it like he thinks Tony might run out. “They’re all my offices. Every thing in this building is mine, do you understand that? Even those ugly ass lion statues in the lobby, they’re mine.” 

Tony sighs and eases into his leather desk chair. “That’s unfortunate. Maybe give ‘em to charity or something.” 

“Stark.” Nick’s tone is flat, unamused, and Tony looks up at him with his best ‘I’m listening’ face. “I was able to just waltz into your office because I notice- you don’t have a PA.” 

Tony’s eyes flicker to the desk just outside his office. Sure enough, it’s empty. “I wondered why I wasn’t getting any messages.” 

Nick is, again, unimpressed. 

“Pepper’s off on maternity leave,” Tony shrugs, tossing his stress ball into the air and catching it again. “I can go without a PA for a year, Nicky.” 

“Don’t you ever call me that again, and no, you can’t. Do you know why I’m here-” 

“-I’m sure you’re about to enlighten me-”

“I’m here because none of your sales have been recorded and stored, none of your hours, none of your billables. I haven’t had a hard copy receipt of any of your transactions and that makes you liable, Tony. And you may be one of my best workers, but I do not give a shit about you. But you being liable, makes me liable, which makes my company liable. And we wanna work as a team, don’t we?” 

“That seems like a rhetorical question.” 

“You are so backed up and you don’t even have a clue.” Nick growls, massaging his temples like he’d very much like to annihilate Tony right on the spot. 

Tony feels a little bit bad. He may have forgotten about those pesky little paper trails. “It’s not like I’m breaking the law, Fury, c’mon-”

“Oh, I’ll just tell the bank that you’re not breaking the law and send them on their merry fucking way, shall i? Or, should you get a secretary?” 

“Hire me one, then,” Tony rolls his eyes, bored with the conversation and reaching forward to grab a random sheet of paper off his desk. He peruses it idly. It’s a shopping list, and scanning the items, he’s not entirely sure what for. A baby shower? There’s too much alcohol for that- someone’s birthday? Whose list even is this? Is it in here by mistake?

“Do you know how many secretaries you went through before Pepper, Tony? Over a hundred. You have to hire one yourself. I do not want to be sued for abusive language again-”

Tony looks up sharply. “She was being an imbecile, Fury, and I stand by what I said-”

Nick lifts a hand to cut him off. “Hire a secretary before the week is out, Stark, or it won’t be such a friendly visit next time.” 

He leaves in a whirlwind of leather and disapproval and Tony stares bemusedly. 

He doesn’t even have to touch his phone before it buzzes and he sees the text from Pepper. Heard someone got a nasty visit. I’ll have someone for you before Friday. 

Tony smiles softly. He misses her, he should buy her something- 

suddenly, he remembers what the shopping list is for.  

When Tony gets into the office on Friday morning, he’s riding on a bit of a high. Everything’s been going so well recently. He’s signed more clients than ever in a three day span, one of his biggest competitors missed a big meeting and Fury hasn’t left any menacing phone calls. Pepper had liked her presents, people still stare after him, and- life all around is good. 

He’s in his office, just taking a moment to savour how triumphant and successful he is, when he reaches out for a sip of his coffee. 

It’s a fucking delicious blend. Expensive and Italian and the stuff that you can only get from a very pretentious cafe on the other side of New York and-

He pauses in his drinking. 

He never got himself coffee. 

He looks at the cup in his hand and lowers it marginally. It’s hot and just the way he likes it. He looks around his office then too, and suddenly all the differences appear and slap him in the face. His desk is clear- not just clear, clean, and his laptop keys are shiny and polished like new. His papers are organised and there are highlights and annotations and his certificates are hanging on the wall and not crammed into a box in the bottom drawer of his filing cabinet where he left them. In fact, his whole fucking office looks professional and goddamn nice. 

His dry cleaning is hanging neatly in the corner too. He gets up, and looks at the desk outside his office. 

Sure enough, there’s someone sitting there. 

A male from what Tony can see, with short brown hair and a headset on. He's typing into the computer and diligently scribbling onto a notepad. He looks like he knows what he’s doing. 

Who the hell is he?

Tony’s laptop pings and he looks down to see a new email from Fury. 

Well done, Stark. Everything looks to be in order. I knew you could be reasonable. 

He clicks on the attachments, already knowing what he’s going to see. All his backlogs, all his logged hours, all his receipts, ordered and neatly filed and chronologically placed and there are even little notes underneath each one with extra details and- how the fuck does his new secretary know that yes, actually, the Milton case had required an extra emergency meeting when they’d discovered a conflict- Tony hadn’t made a note of it anywhere. 

Curiosity truly peaked now, he takes his perfect coffee and saunters out, walking around the front of the desk. 

His new secretary looks up and Tony’s penis twitches a little. Okay, yes, Tony Jr approves. He’s young, maybe twenty, with brown hair and big brown eyes, cream skin and a delicate nose. He’s slender, but in shape, in a white shirt with the top few buttons undone, giving a lovely view of those sharp collarbones. He’s wearing black trousers and the the microphone wire against his cheek and in his hair contrasts nicely with his pale skin. 

He looks up at Tony and smiles pleasantly. “Mr Stark, is there something I can help you with?”

Tony spots a calendar on the corner of the desk. He picks it up and flips through it. His meetings and deadlines for the next six months are all neatly pencilled in. The most important ones are starred with a red pen. He sets it down carelessly and watches as the young man straightens it without a word. “So, how long have you been here, Mr...” 

“Peter Potts, Sir.” Peter says, and ah, this makes sense. The only way Peter could be so clever was if he had the Potts gene. “I started on Tuesday.” 

Tuesday, fuck. No wonder things have been going so well. “Pepper’s little brother?” 

“Half brother,” Peter corrects, “and soon to be uncle.” 

Tony can see the resemblance. The soft skin, the sweet eyes. “Well, Peter and Pepper. That’s cute.” 

Peter doesn’t say anything to that, but his pretty pink lips twitch in amusement. 

But Tony doesn’t have any qualms. Peter is quite clearly capable, he’s related to Pepper, he’s eye-candy, and he’s gotten Tony his favourite coffee. So, the older man simply tips his head and goes back into his office. But as soon as he’s sitting down, his curiosity flares up again. He presses the button on his intercom and clears his throat. “You go to college, Peter?” 

He watches through the glass as Peter’s chair swivels around, and the boy talks into the microphone with an intrigued smile. “Yes, Mr Stark. Top of my class at Harvard.” 

“What did you study?” 

“I majored in Engineering with a minor in Journalism. Graduated last year.” 

An early bird then, Tony can relate. That Potts gene really is something else. “And what have you been doing for the past year?” 

“Odd jobs,” Peter says evasively. “But when Pepper said she needed my help, I was all too happy to oblige. I’m a very big fan of yours, Mr Stark. There’s no bigger name in Wallstreet.” The phone rings and Peter shoots Tony an apologetic, but polite smile, as he picks up the phone. “Tony Stark’s office.” He nods, turning to the computer as the person talks. “Yes, I can see that here. No problem. Thank you. Yes, yes, Mr Butler, I will let him know.” Peter chuckles and Tony stares: amazed. “Alright. Thank you, goodbye.” 

“Mr Butler?” Tony shakes his head, “That was Jerry on the phone?” 

“Yes, Mr Stark. Would you like me to get him back on the line for you?” 

Jerry Butler is the coldest man in the world. He doesn’t laugh with secretaries. He’s no reason for any smile ever. But Peter had chuckled like he was talking to an old friend. Not even Pepper had achieved that. “No, no.” Tony frowns, “you carry on.” He clicks off the intercom and strums his fingers against his desk thoughtfully. Something doesn’t feel quite right- if something seems too good to be true...his mind warns. 

Maybe the catch is that he can’t sleep with Peter and the more he talks to the boy, the more he wants to. 

He does his best to ignore it for now. 

Things continue to go brilliantly. Life is even more effortlessly amazing than it was before. Nick even drops the hints of a promotion in the future if things keep going like this. When Tony gets to work, his favourite coffee is waiting, sometimes even a bagel or a croissant like Peter magically knows when Tony hasn’t had breakfast. He eats or drinks in his office as he checks emails, before Peter comes in with a notebook and a rundown of the days events, and then Tony gets to work. Peter comes in throughout the day, silent and unobtrusive and sets down water or coffee or occasionally- an apple- and sets it by Tony’s elbow and leaves again. 

When Tony steps out to meet a client for lunch, he sees Peter taking his lunch break at his desk- his headset is still on, and he’s still scribbling away, but it’s into an old worn science textbook. In his other hand is a sandwich he’s nibbling on. 

Tony prods at the book as he pulls on his coat. Peter had it dry cleaned specially and waiting in his office before Tony even knew he'd be out for lunch. There’s probably already a cab waiting downstairs. “What’s this?” Tony asks, trying to peek at the cover. 

Peter lets him easily. “It’s a bio-chemistry textbook. I’m thinking about taking some night classes. Work towards a masters, or if I don’t qualify- a second degree.” 

Tony may not have much pull in the science world, but his father sure did. He knows that name and money can go a long way, and Peter’s been exceptional. “I can get you in for a Masters anywhere you wanna go.” He assures, and Peter looks up at him with wide eyes. 

“Mr Stark-”

“It’s not a problem. Now, who am I meeting?” 

“Mrs Aberelle. She loves shrimp and it was her granddaughter’s birthday last week.” 

Tony’s not sure whether he wants to ruffle Peter’s hair or give him a filthy kiss on the mouth. He settles for neither. 

Mrs Aberelle practically gushes and swoons in her seat when Tony orders her the shrimp platter and asks how her granddaughter’s birthday was. She makes a higher bid than Tony even asked for. Peter’s a godsend. 

The next day, the CEO of of another major competitor comes down with the flu, and Tony’s pitch goes down brilliantly. 

He’s on cloud nine. 

Careful, a voice warns, when you’re this high, there’s only one way to go. 

It sounds suspiciously like his father, but he listens to it. “Hey, Peter,” he greets one morning as he strolls in. Peter’s in his office, just setting down his coffee and a- fuck, a danish pastry. He might be in love. “I got you a little something.” 

Peter blinks in surprise, but smiles sweetly, and crosses his hands in front of him as he waits. Tony sets his briefcase down and clips open the gold clasps and lifts out a brand new, just released bio-chemistry textbook. Peter takes it with wide, disbelieving eyes. “Mr Stark...” he whispers, shaking his head, “this was- I know for a fact that this was over a $100. I can’t accept this-”

“Kid,” Tony chuckles, shaking his head. “It’s pocket change. Besides, I’m not giving it to you for nothing.” 

Peter’s eyes flash to his and Tony’s a little surprised by what he sees. Peter looks almost-fuck, almost dangerous- but it’s gone in a flash, replaced with that sweetness and hardworking, subtle smugness that’s usually there. 

“I want you to attend the meeting with Lawson tomorrow. As a sit in, alright?” 

Peter nods immediately, but frowns. “Is there any particular reason why, Mr Stark?” He’s clutching the book to his chest almost reverently. 

“Not really,” Tony admits, rubbing his chin, “just wary. You up for it?” 

“Always.” Peter murmurs, and Tony thinks he must be imagining the demure little almost-wink he gets. 

It doesn’t stop him from thinking about it again that night. 

He shakes Lawson’s hand in the morning as the man and his associates sit opposite him at the large oakwood table. Tony and Peter on one side, Lawson and his men on the other. Peter has his notebook out and is writing away- he always seems to be writing, Tony has no idea what- and then they start talking. 

Tony’s not sure what he was worried about. The contract is brilliant, more lenient than expected and has nothing but benefits for both sides. He’s giving Lawson a hard time, but that’s just part of the game, and he’s about to seal the deal when-

Peter slides a piece of paper over to him without looking up. Tony frowns at him, but Peter doesn’t make eye-contact, continuing to write, and Tony looks down. 

He’s lying. Don’t sign. 

Well fuck, that’s a fucking thing to write. What is Tony supposed to do with that? He sets it down and tries to look unaffected as they keep talking but when Lawson’s side slide over the contract, Tony pauses with the pen in his hand. Peter isn’t making a sound. 

“Let me just talk to my secretary real quick,” Tony grins, wearing his best winning smile, “why don’t you fine gentlemen wait outside, take five, catch a breather, and then we can come back and sort this out.” 

They look a little confused, but they leave and then Peter and Tony are alone. 

“What the hell is this, Peter?” 

Peter looks up bravely, his jaw locked. “I don’t trust him, Mr Stark. There’s something not right-”

“I’m gonna need a little more than your hunch, kid. No offence, but I’ve been in this game a lot longer than you. You don’t know the contract, it’s a good deal-”

“It’s too good a deal,” Peter insists, lifting the thick contract up. “I’ve read through it, Mr Stark. I read through all the contracts you’re about to sign and there’s something about this that doesn’t add up. Why would they offer such a beneficial claim with us? Why not one of your competitors?” 

Tony shrugs a little smugly. “My competitors haven’t been stepping up to bat, lately.” 

Peter shakes his head. “I’m serious, Mr Stark. When things or people are too good to be true, they usually are.”

There’s something in his tone. Something...something Tony’s unsure of. 

“Did you see anything in the small print that can back up- what is at the moment- just a feeling?” 

Peter’s shoulders slump in defeat, and he shakes his head. “No, Sir.” He whispers. 

The older man sighs, rubbing at his eyes. Only Pepper or Peter could ever make him feel like this- torn between the rational, sensible option, and listening to their fucking hunches-

“He knows!” A voice outside the door hisses, and both Peter and Tony look up sharply. 

“He doesn’t know, Lawson-”

“He must know! Why would he tell us to leave like that? He knows about our deal with Oscorp! I knew Norman couldn’t make this go away, the dirty son-of-a-bitch-”

“There’s no way Stark knows, just calm down-”

The voices disappear again, down the hall, and Tony stares in amazement. Peter just looks earnest. “Do you believe me now, Mr Stark?”

“How the hell did you know?” He whispers, collapsing into one of the chairs.

Peter bites his bottom lip. “Sometimes i just get these feelings,” he says, as he scribbles on the paper in front of him. 

Unfortunately, knowing that Lawson has a back door deal with Oscorp is not something that can be easily proven, and when Fury finds out that Tony blew would could be one of the biggest contracts of the year, he reacts with, what is understandably, a lot of anger. 

Tony does his best to get Peter to screen all his calls as the two of them work all night to try and find a way to prove what they heard. Tony wants to think that maybe his word will be enough, but Nick’s always been a stickler for the rules and Tony...has not. 

Even as absorbed in papers and numbers as he is, Tony can still appreciate Peter here beside him. The kid’s saved him a huge one here. And he’s still here, when he should probably be at home sleeping or watching Netflix, helping Tony try to prove the unprovable. He’s smart and quick and for someone who’s never worked with stocks like this before, he sure knows his way around it. 

“Hey,” Peter whispers when it hits three am. “I bet they keep a hard copy of all their emails in a data storage room.” 

Tony looks up and rubs the bleariness from his eyes. “Really?” 

“Yeah,” Peter breaths, getting to his feet, more energetic now, “a lot of stock companies do it. It’s an automatically backlog, it can stop you getting into a lot of trouble. All we have to go is get in.” 

Tony shakes his head, but gets to his feet, knees groaning. “How? I’m the most recognisable face in Wallstreet.”

“But I’m not.” Peter insists, already heading for the door. Tony’s hot on his heels. “I can talk my way in.” 

“Not that I doubt your ability, because you’re a Potts, but do you really think you can just waltz in and-”

Yes, as it turns out. Tony just stares in awe as Peter plays the apologetic, desperate intern who just has to get this work done for his brutal boss Norman Osborn. Tony’s hiding behind a potted plant as he watches Peter’s performance. “I’m so sorry,” Peter weeps, eyes shining with tears as the large, female security guard clutches at her heart through her shirt. “I’m such an idiot, and it’s only my first week and I forgot my keycard and- I’m gonna get fired and I deserve it and-”

“Oh, no, honey,” the security guard croons, already unlocking the barrier for him. “No, baby, it is not your fault, okay?” 

Peter sniffles, eyes red and smile grateful. “Thank you so much, I-you have no idea what this means to me and-”

She blows him a kiss. “Go, honey. Go.” Peter waves at her, and jogs around the corner. 

They have to wait about fifteen minutes till she goes to the bathroom, before Tony runs out and Peter lets him through. “How did you- wait- how did you even unlock the door-”

“I pickpocketed her,” Peter whispers, as they get into the elevator. Tony stares at Peter in shock. 

“Shit, kid. Where’d you learn to do that?”

Peter gives him a look. “We’re breaking into one of the most famous companies in the world, Mr Stark. I don’t think now’s the time.”

“Sure- I guess-” Peter grabs his hand and tugs him out of the metal doors as soon as they get to the right floor and shit- how did Peter even know what floor- before Tony knows it, Peter is picking the lock of a storage room and- seriously, what the hell-

and then he’s hacking into a computer and downloading a memory stick onto it. 

Tony is staring in slack-jawed awe. “Seriously, Peter.” He whispers, as Peter scans through emails. “What the fuck?” 

“Tony,” Peter murmurs, a little irritated, as his eyes flicker across the screen as he scrolls rapidly. “Not the time.” 

“Not the time? You- you cried on cue. You knew all this stuff about me, you pick-pocketed her- you got into that locked room, you just hacked into a computer and a memory stick, are you- were you a criminal or something? Like a tech-whiz kid? You can tell me, I won’t judge-”

“I know you won’t,” Peter says softly, and suddenly there’s that doe-eyed, cocky secretary who smirks whenever Tony ends up liking whatever weird type of sushi Peter brings him when he’d insisted he wouldn’t. “But not right now. Later, I promise- ah! Look!” 

There’s the email. It’s not explicit, but it’s interaction between Norman and Lawson which can’t easily be dismissed. Peter sends it to the printer and the two of them are waiting for the damn thing to connect, when footsteps sound along the carpeted floor around the corner. 

Peter shoves Tony into a stationary closet and Tony watches through the crack as a middle-aged man comes around with a stack of papers to photocopy. The man blinks at the sight of Peter, surprised, and Peter half smiles. “Hey,” he greets casually, and Tony is seriously in awe of this kid’s acting. “All nighter for you too, huh? Osborn’s a real dick.”

The man chuckles, nodding, and comes to join Peter by the printer. “Yeah, I know. I’m Barney,” 

Peter takes his hand. “Lucas,” he says easily, “It’s nice to meet you. You couldn’t help, could you? The damn thing’s not working.”

Lucas peers at the printer, and smiles good-naturedly. “You have to enter your user access code.”

Tony pales and if Peter panics at all, he doesn’t show it. “Fuck,” he sighs, smacking his forehead, “I forgot mine. I keep it written down on this post it- shit, I’ll have to run downstairs, unless-” he looks up at Barney hopefully, “I could use yours? Save me the run.” 

Barney looks torn. “We’re not supposed to...”

For a second, Tony thinks Peter might pull the same crying act he used with the security guard, but he doesn’t. 

Instead, Peter steps forward, lifts his chin and catches his plush bottom lip between his teeth. 

Shit. Shit. Tony and Barney are both hypnotised. “Maybe we could forget the printer altogether,” Peter murmurs, his hands drifting to Barney’s belt as he fiddles with the loop. “Working for Norman gets me so stressed, you know? Sometimes you just want some-” he sighs a little, and the sound goes straight to Tony’s dick. “-some stress relief. You ever feel like that, Barney?” 

Barney looks utterly besotted, and he doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. 

Peter pushes impossibly closer, tilting his head up more. “You can touch me, if you want,” he says, barely above a whisper, “I want you to. Right here.” He grabs one of Barney’s hands and places it on his perfect ass. 

Tony’s leaking in his pants. 

Barney grunts with desire, grabbing at Peter’s ass gracelessly, his other hand coming to do the same as Peter presses their groins together. “What’s your access code?” He whispers into Barney’s ear, palming at his crotch. 

Barney looks like he might cum any second. He’s probably a virgin, Tony thinks. Or maybe Peter is just that hot. Either one is plausible. “A-ah, it-it’s 4598-”

Tony lets out a cry of surprise when Barney falls heavily to the floor. 

Peter turns and taps in the code to the printer as Tony bursts out of the closet. “Holy shit,” he whispers, staring at the man. There’s no blood which is...a relief? “Is he dead?”

Peter rolls his eyes as the printer starts chugging out paper. He grins victoriously. “No, Tony, he’s not dead. I don’t kill people. He’s just unconscious.” He gives Tony a look like the older man is acting a bit slow. 

There’s a wet spot on Barney’s pants, Tony feels for the guy, but there’s more pressing matters. “Peter, what the fuck, seriously-”

“Oh, come on, Tony.” Peter snaps, whirling on him with righteous indignation. His pupils are blown wide and Tony wants him so bad it hurts, but he’s also- he’s also confused out of his mind. “You’ve known this whole time. What- you think it’s coincidence that all your competitors have been missing meetings? Falling sick? You think these new clients are just falling into your lap? I’ve been doing all of this for you. You know that.” 

Jesus Christ. Tony stares. “I-I don’t- how-”

“I like seeing you succeed. It gets me even hotter for you than I already am.” 

Tony can’t form words. 

“I know you like me too. I’d have to be blind not to- aha!” He lifts the papers happily, all printed and sorted. “As much as I’d love to have you fuck me right here on this printer, we need to leave.” 

Tony’s pretty sure he’s forgotten how to form words, but fucking Peter is something he’d very much like to do. 

“We’re gonna go back to your office, and you can do me right up against the glass, okay?” 

Tony has to pinch his arm to not cum right then and there. Peter notices, and smirks, tiptoeing to kiss him lightly. 

“Come on, Mr Stark,” he grins, his eyes twinkling with a satisfying mixture of innocence and mischief, as he guides them towards the door. “You have work to do.” 

[cherrywade]

Sir, That’s My Emotional Support Sibling

(this fic is dedicated to @diego2hargreeves for inspiration and for just being great! i hope you like it!!! <3)

They’d been in the past for…a few weeks now. Five had found them a safe place to stay. No one asked where or how he’d found it. They were working on their trust. Or maybe no one really wanted to know how he’d found it, or gotten it. Either way they had a place to lay low while they figured out what exactly they were going to do now.

All Vanya knew was the she wasn’t locked up anymore. She wasn’t sure if it was because the house they were staying in didn’t have a sound proof room, or if was because of the yelling she’d heard after they’d first gotten here. She’d gone up stairs to take a shower, they always calmed her. She’d turned the water off and heard their voices echoing off the walls and carrying up to her.

She didn’t try to be quiet on her way down. She was tired of tip toing around everyone, had been doing that her whole life. She was done with that. She was one of them and she decided she was going to act like it. No more sneaking around. She was going to walk around like she owned the place, like she belonged there. Because, in both respects, she sort of did.

The last voice she heard before she walked in was Klaus’.

“I swear to god Luther!” his face was red when she came around the corner and walked through the doorway. There was a vain in his neck that she’d only seen once before, maybe twice. He looked like he was about to punch Luther in the face. Diego looked about the same, standing beside him, but he covered it better when Vanya walked in. Klaus saw her, took a deep breath and turned away from her. She watched him take another breath, wipe his hand down over his face, and walk off. Vanya smiled to herself. He was always so careful about trying not to genuinely upset people. He could be an ass, sure, but he didn’t like hurting people.

“Are we talking about locking me up again?” She made sure her voice was calm. She didn’t want them to think she was going to explode on them. Even if her insides were roiling with emotions, but she could feel them now, and she could tell when it was her power and when it was her. She smiled and shoved the feelings down a bit. Further away from the surface.

“No.” Klaus answered, a split second later.

“Absolutely not.” His voice was cold, but he wasn’t looking at Vanya, he was looking at Luther. His eyes the coldest Vanya ever remembered seeing them. He turned to her and his whole being softened. He swallowed hard and began walking toward her.

“That’s never happening again.” His eyes were tearing up now, his lip quivering. Vanya opened her arms a bit and he dashed into them.

“I’m so sorry. Are you okay? How are you feeling?” he breathed into her shoulder, the words mumbled against her shirt. His arms wrapped around her in a vice grip. She held onto him tightly and looked up to see Diego smiling at her. She smiled back.

“I’m okay. I think I’m feeling better.” She rubbed his back between his shoulders and smiled at him when he pulled back and smiled at her, sniffling but looking happy.

“Ben says hi.” She blinked in confusion and then the memory slammed into her.

“You channeled Ben.”

“Yeah.”

“He was like, here here!” she felt the excitement in her and saw the chandelier above them begin to sway. The excitement turned to fear and she pulled away from Klaus, or at least, she tried to. He wouldn’t let go of her. His fingers wrapped around her arms where he’d rested them after their hug. He held her tight and pulled her a bit closer. She struggled, not wanting to hurt him. The lights grew brighter as the fear grew inside her.

“Let it happen. Don’t fight it. It’s a part of who you are.” Klaus’ voice was soft.

“Are you kidding me Klaus?” Luther’s voice was not soft, it was a whisper, but it wasn’t soft. The lightbulb behind him burst. Klaus’ hands moved from Vanya’s arms to her face.

“Hey. Shhh…it’s okay. I’m not afraid of you. You shouldn’t have to be afraid either. Just let the feeling happen. Feel the emotion. And then let it go. Don’t focus on it. Just feel it.” Klaus’ thumb moved against her cheek, soothing. She focused on how that made her feel. She didn’t want to feel the fear. She thought maybe focusing on how Klaus was making her feel was safer. She took a deep breath, let herself feel the comfort he was giving her, and then felt the surging emotions calm. The lights dimmed back down, the chandelier stopped swaying, she opened her eyes, and saw Klaus smiling at her.

“How spectacular are you?” he laughed, pulling her into another hug. She laugh/cried into his shoulder. It hadn’t felt the same as when Leonard, or Harold, or whoever he was, had given her complements. It was different. It felt more there, more real. And she realized then that she’d believed Allison all along.

She’d known, at least deep down, that he wasn’t who he said he was. Her eyes found her sister and she felt more tears. She pulled gently away from Klaus and went to Allison. Allison pulled her close. The lights grew bright and then ebbed away again as Allison held her through her sobbed apologies. When she calmed a bit, they went into the kitchen and found some food. The five of them eating and laughing together, like they had when they were kids and dad wasn’t home. Luther was nowhere to be seen.

~***~

They were getting along better than Vanya ever remembered from when they were kids. Her and Klaus had both been practicing their powers. It turned out that summoning Ben fully had, so far, been a one-time thing. They were out in the back yard, in the woods really, the house Five had found them was out in the middle of nowhere, but still somehow so unlike the place she’d gone with Leonard. Both of them trying their best to work on their powers. Klaus made a weird strangled noise, yelled something unintelligible, and threw a stick.

“This is ridiculous! This is never gonna work! Are you even trying to be corporeal or is this completely one sided? Cuz I know how it’s feeling and I’ll tell you what it doesn’t feel like you’re trying at all!” Klaus was flailing his arms and yelling at the empty space next him. Vanya laughed and he looked at her.

“Ben?”

“Yes.” He said, venom in his voice. He looked back to the empty space.

“She can’t even see you and she knows it’s you cuz you’re being an ass- don’t make that face at me!” he gasped and turned to look at Vanya, exasperation written all over his face. She smiled again and shook her head. She pushed herself up off the log she’d been sitting on and walked over to him.

“Maybe your power is connected to your emotions too. What were you feeling at the theater when you summoned him last time?” she put her hand on his shoulder, trying to respond to him with the kind of affection that he gave to everyone else. She read somewhere that people reach out in the ways they wished people would reach out to them. She thought maybe there was something to that when he relaxed under her touch and shook himself, like he was trying to relax and clear his head.

“I uh… I was scared. I though we were all gonna die. I didn’t wanna get shot. And ya know I don’t really have a good way to replicate that emotion without delving into some heavy emotional shit and I’m not really in the mood for that right now so maybe we could work on your power for a little while?” he drooped and looked at her, looking more like a puppy the bigger his eyes got. She stared at him, trying to break his sad composure. His eyes just kept getting wider and wider until she sighed and gave up.

“Fine.” He did a weird little dance and ran over to the log where she’d been sitting.

“Okay perfect, let’s see, where did we leave off last time? Oh right you almost crushed me with a tree! That was a fun time! So I’m thinking maybe this time, a little less anger maybe a bit more excitement?” he crossed his legs and looked at her, his fingers drumming on his chin. She watched him for a moment and then burst out laughing.

“What is this? Why the laughing?” he waved his hand at her.

“You’re ridiculous.” She shook her head at him.

“Ah, true. But it made you smile so I think it’s working.” He held up his finger.

“Touché.” She said, giving him a little mock bow.

“Fancy. I like it. Now back to your training number 7.” His best mocking dad voice making her smile again.

“I’m seriously thinking that your power is gonna be a lot like baking.” He was rubbing at his chin seriously now.

“Baking?” she drummed her fingers on her thigh and looked at him.

“Yeah. We’re gonna have to find like, the exact right emotions to mix together to get it to work or the whole thing goes caput. So, think of it like a baking show, were you have to do everything exactly right, or the whole world explodes.” He said flatly.

“No pressure then.”

He smiled at her.

~*~*~

They’d been practicing for about half and hour when Luther came out to see them.

“I see Klaus is already “resting” from his training.” He walked down the steps on the porch and crossed his arms. Vanya felt something boiling up inside her. She let it pass through like Klaus had coached her to do, the leaves above her rattling and then settling gently.

“He worked really hard on it for almost an hour and half. He deserves a break when he wants one.” She hadn’t really been getting very good at speaking up for herself yet. It was hard breaking the habit of being invisible. But she was finding that sticking up for others was easier.

“I’m just saying, without practice it’s not gonna get easier.” He shrugged, dismissing his disdain and treating it like it was nothing.

“Yeah well maybe, if he’d had support before, it’d be easier now. So instead of coming out here and telling him what he’s doing wrong, maybe you should ask if there’s anything you can do to help him figure out how to do it right?” her hands were clenched at her sides but the leaves above her remained still.

“I was just saying-“

“I know what you were saying. And frankly, I’m tired of hearing what you have to say. When all you have to say to him are things that make him feel like he’s not good enough. Just because he coped with his powers in a way you don’t approve of, until you want to be numb yourself, doesn’t mean that you can treat him like he’s useless.” She stared at him, waiting for him to respond, he dropped his hands to his sides but stayed silent.

“So if you don’t have anything constructive or helpful to say, maybe you should just go back inside.” She crossed her arms over her chest and watched him open and close his mouth before turning and going back inside. He left the door open as he stomped through it. Vanya lifted her hand, flicked it, and watched as a small wave of energy floated toward it and closed it. It didn’t slam. It didn’t shatter. It just…closed.

She took a deep breath. He legs were shaking. She looked at Klaus, he was sitting on the log, his eyes moving from Vanya, to the door, and back again. Seconds later he was on his feet, yelling in excitement and running to her. He picked her up and spun her in circles.

“That was amazing!” he set her down and looked at her, his hands on her shoulders.

“You did it! And you told Luther off! You are so. Cool.” He laughed. And Vanya laughed because Klaus’ laugh is contagious and then she gasped when she saw him.

“Klaus.”

“Yeah?” he was still laughing, but it was fading now, the look in Vanya’s eyes clearly making him nervous.

“Look.” She pointed behind him. Klaus spun around and stumbled back a step.

“Holy shit.” He whispered as he stared at Ben.

“So can I get in on this excited hugging thing we’re doing or what?” he asked, pointing at them and smiling his crooked smile.

“Fuck yes you can buddy. Bring it in!” the glowing blue form of ben ran at them. They both caught him, he was cold. But it didn’t matter. He was there. And Vanya was touching him. And Klaus had done that. Klaus had brought Ben through.

“You did it.” Vanya squeezed Klaus’ shoulder.

“Told ya.” Ben said.

“Oh shut up.” Klaus snapped, but he was ginning in the sunlight shinning through the trees.

~***~

He’d finally fallen asleep when someone starts shaking him awake again.

“Nooo.” He whines and smooshes himself deeper under his covers. The shaking gets harder and he’s confused because no one is speaking. Not even the dead that have seemingly taken up residence in his bedroom. He peeks out of his blankets and sees Allison, she looks scared.

“What? What is it? Oh for- you can’t talk, alright alright I’m coming lead the way.” He throws himself out of bed and follows her down the hall. It’s takes him a minute to realize the house is shaking.

He grabs Allison’s hand, she looks at him.

“Vanya?”

Allison nods frantically and he runs past her. He almost falls down the stairs, flashbacks to his jaw being wired shut flash before his eyes and he steadies himself. He throws himself into the kitchen and finds Vanya, sitting on the table, he head in her hands, rocking back and forth, that eerie white glow filling the kitchen.

“Vanya!” he has to shout over the noise. Everything is moving. The whole house is shaking, and out the window Klaus can see the trees swaying wildly.

“Hey! What happened? Look at me Van. Tell me what happened.” He moves closer, one of the chairs at the table slides toward him and then darts to the left and slams against the wall. He keeps going. Knowing that he can help her if he can just get to her.

“Vanya?” he takes two more steps and puts his hand flat on the table. She looks at him. Her eyes are white. He smiles at her.

“Hey there. It’s kinda breezy in here, you wanna talk about it?” he moves his hand to her foot. Her hands fist in her hair and her eyes squeeze shut.

“He was in my dream! He was screaming at me!” she yells when she gets like this. Klaus is pretty sure its because of all the noise in her head. Like when you go to a concert and you can’t hear anything after, so you just yell for hours until you can hear again. He nods at her.

“Okay. Well he was a dick. So that seems right. But he’s not here. Okay? He’s gone. It’s just you and me. In the kitchen. You’re on the table, which is my spot by the way but I won’t hold it against you, and I’m on the floor, in my underwear and a shirt, because Allison was in a panic and I didn’t grab any pants.” He saw her lips twitch and the trees outside calmed a bit.

“Oh yeah, real funny, you’re having a breakdown and I’m freezing my balls off. Everybody’s having a good time.” She full on smiled at that and the trees outside stilled completely.

“There we go. You got it. Just keep breathing Van you’re doing great.” He moved his hands to her shoulders and kept looking at her. She opened her eyes again, they were still white, but she wasn’t glowing anymore.

“Hey, do you remember that time I came home blind drunk and high off my ass? And dad was there waiting and he made all you guys wait with him. And he just scowled at me. And said some shit about how disappointing I was, and that he hoped all you guys would be better. And do better and blah blah blah. And he tried to make me feel all guilty? And I just laughed at him. You remember that?” Klaus knew she did, she was smiling again.

“You- you puked on his shoes.” Her voice was strained, but she was trying so hard, Klaus could see it, she was trying to focus on him and his voice instead of the ocean of hell inside her.

“I did. But that’s not even the best part. Wanna know the best part?” he squeezed her shoulders gently, trying to ground her and drown out the noise. She nodded and looked at him, her eyes faded back to normal.

“I did it on purpose. I didn’t need to puke. We were what? 15? I’d been drinking for ages. I could hold my liquor. He was just…such an asshole. And I really wanted to ruin his day. So I puked on him.” Klaus smiled at her, his tongue poking out between his teeth. She looked at him for three seconds and then burst out laughing. The house stopped shaking. The lights faded, and Vanya drooped on the table.

Klaus crawled up next to her, holding onto her so she didn’t collapse and roll off. She was still laughing, her head shaking against Klaus’ shoulder. When she stopped laughing, she just laid there. Letting him hold her up, her energy gone. He got that.

“You’re good with her.” Klaus opened his eyes when Ben spoke, he hadn’t known he’d closed them, his brother was smiling at him.

“Thanks.” He held her tighter, his arms around her shoulders.

“Hi Ben.” Vanya’s small voice said before she fell asleep on Klaus’ shoulder. Ben waved at her, even though she was sleeping, and then he was gone. Klaus sighed, smiling to himself, he let his eyes fall closed again, resting his head on Vanya’s. The kitchen door creaked open and the others poked their heads in.

“Is she okay?” Five was rubbing his eyes like he’d just woken up, looking every ounce a thirteen year old.

“She’s alright.”

Allison lifted her notepad, “What happened?”.

“Bad dream.” Klaus moved his hand slowly over her hair.

“Is this gonna happen every time she has a bad dream?” Luther sounded worried, but he also sounded annoyed, and that was annoying and Klaus was too tired to deal with his shit.

“I don’t know Luther. I guess we’ll live and learn. Now carry her back to bed so she can get some rest.” He waved Luther forward. He took Vanya carefully, Allison held the door for him and then followed him out. Five waved sleepily and followed close behind them.

“How do you do that?” Diego was standing in the door way, looking at him. Klaus rubbed his eyes and sighed.

“Do what?”

“You calm her down. It doesn’t work when we try. Not ever.” He had his arms crossed but didn’t look angry about being woken up, he looked curious.

“Do you want the family friendly happy answer, or do you want the real answer?” Klaus rubbed at his face and watched Diego walk closer.

“I’d like the truth. But if you’re gonna be an ass about it I’ll take whatever answer I can get.” Klaus laughed and patted the table. Diego rolled his eyes and climbed up next to his brother.

“It’s because you’re all afraid of her.” He looked at Diego. Diego frowned.

“We’re not-“

“You are. And it’s okay. We’ve talked about it. She understands.” He patted Diego’s knee.

“And you’re not? Ya know, afraid of her?”

“Not so much no. I’m usually more scared for her. But I think, it’s mainly because I’m not afraid to die. Ya know? That’s what it comes down to, I think. She can see the fear in your guys’ eyes when you look at her. And she can feel it inside herself. And when I think about dying all I feel is peace. So maybe it comes through.” He looked at Diego, not smiling though he wanted to, but he knew it made Diego uncomfortable when he smiled and talked about death so he resisted the urge.

“So… she can feel that peace inside you or whatever? And it calms her down? Because you aren’t afraid of death so you aren’t afraid she’ll kill you?”

This was something Klaus loved about his brother. He could ask you six different questions about something you’d said, and not one of them made you feel like he was making fun of you. Every time Diego asked a question, a genuine question, you could always tell that he was really trying to understand you.

“Pretty much yeah. And I make her laugh. Or at least I try to. It’s not always easy when she gets lost like that.” He lulled his head to the side and smiled tiredly at his brother. Diego watched him for a moment and then nodded.

“I’m glad you’re here for her. I’m glad she has you. You may be a mess, and I mean that. But you’re good with her.” He patted Klaus’ shoulder and pushed himself off the table.

“Thanks. And hey Diego?”

Diego stopped and looked back at him.

“You wouldn’t wanna carry me back upstairs would you?” He held his arms out to his brother, making grabby hands at him, giving him his best sad puppy look. Diego stared at him.

“Please?”

Diego sighed and walked back over to the table, leaning in close to Klaus.  

“I will do this once. And you will tell no one. Or I will smother you in your sleep.” He turned around and Klaus wrapped his arms around his neck and his legs around his waist.

“Best. Day. Ever.”

“It’s the middle of the night. And I can still change my mind.”

“Shutting up.”

They were halfway up the stairs when Ben popped up, he was sitting on the stair railing, smiling at them.

“That looks comfy.”

“Hush.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing. Sorry. I wasn’t…talking…to you.” Klaus said, grimacing through his answer. Diego stopped walking.

“Then who were you talking to?”

“I- uh…nobody.”

“Ben’s here, isn’t he?” Diego sounded annoyed.

“No! No he isn’t I swear. Just me and you.” Klaus felt Diego letting go of him, he scrambled at his shoulders but ended up on his ass on the stairs. Diego stomped the rest of the way up.

“Noo! Diego come back! I didn’t tell him! I didn’t want him here he just showed up!!! Come back! It’s so cold out here!” Klaus called after him, sitting forlornly on the stairs.

“You were warned.” Was all he got back before he heard Diego’s door shut. Klaus took a deep breath and looked at Ben.

“You enjoy this don’t you? Ruining good things for me?”

“Yep.” Was all Ben said before disappearing again.

“Asshole!” Klaus yelled to thin air and then crawled the rest of the way up the stairs and dove into bed. The voices of the dead pleasantly quiet, the house pleasantly still.

[peraltasames]

your love is bright as ever, even in the shadows

for @jameshalpert who wanted a fic about jake and amy cuddling after the january 6th flashback bc of course they cuddled on the coldest night of the year

also for the anon that requested this kiss prompt: 36. Starting with eskimo kisses before moving on to soft kisses.

alternative title: i have a lot of feelings about how in love these two dorks are and the fact that amy’s favourite moment of their entire relationship was a simple act that proves how much jake cares for and loves her and jesus fucking christ will i ever again write something that isn’t just jake and amy cuddling in bed

read on ao3 :)))

Six days into the new year, Jake wakes at an ungodly hour to the feeling of arms wrapping around him from behind and warm breaths tickling the back of his neck.

It’s been six days since they threw their first New Year’s Eve party as a married couple, complete with gold streamers and champagne flutes and fireworks to be seen from their window over the Manhattan skyline.

It’s been six incredible, glorious days spent mostly indoors to avoid the cold, both of them taking the entire week off after being forced to work through most of the holidays - crime does not take a break on Christmas, much to Amy’s dismay (Jake is...less than upset that they miss the Santiago family Christmas to work an awesome drug case, but he tries not to let it show).

Much of this week off has consisted of drinking hot chocolate, watching movies in pajamas and obscene amounts of cuddling. It’s the most time they’ve had the privilege of spending together since their honeymoon, and he’s savoured every moment.

The ring of their alarm clock in less than five hours and their reluctant return to work are looming, but Jake turns to face his wife with the faint hope that she’s awake and not just burrowing into him in sleep as she often does. He’s desperate for just a few more minutes of their cocooned vacation bliss before their return to reality.

Her eyes are open and full of adoration when he rolls over, her arms remaining around him. He returns the loving gaze and slides his hand around her back and under her worn-out t-shirt, his nails lightly scratching her skin until she breathes a sigh of contentment.

“Hey,” he murmurs with a gravelly, sleep-heavy whisper. “You warm enough?”

She fell asleep earlier than him tonight, wanting to get sufficient rest for their first day back, and couldn’t resist taking a break from playing games on his phone to climb out of bed and grab a warm pair of socks for her feet after seeing his wife shivering slightly right beside him. His body temperature is always a little higher than hers, it seems, but even he can feel the wrath of winter at its peak just outside their window.

She’s beaming at him now, and though he can’t quite ascertain why she’s looking at him like he hung the moon and stars and maybe the entire solar system, it’s certainly a welcome sight. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Jake nods, satisfied with the knowledge that she’s comfortable, and shifts marginally closer to her.

“It’s freezing out there.”

“Coldest night of this winter so far, according to the news this morning,” Amy supplements, squeezing his torso. “Good thing my husband is like a personal heater.”

Jake feels a surge of warmth in his chest - he does every time she calls him her husband, still in utter disbelief and awe that out of all the people in the world she’s chosen to be with and love him forever. He’s hardly the philosophical type, but he knows he must have done something right in a past life to deserve this.

“It’s one of my many amazing talents,” Jake sighs, grinning to himself.

“I don’t know if I would say many...”

He looks down at her teasing grin and shakes his head, smirking as he prepares a rebuttal.

“I don’t think you felt that way on New Year’s after our guests left.” A slight blush creeps into her cheeks as she fondly recalls the night. “Or the other day on the couch, or this morning in the shower-”

“Fine, I take it back.”

She’s laughing now, so close to him that their noses touch. He brushes his nose against hers, making her laughter taper off into soft giggles of contentment. She presses her lips gently to his after a moment, and they fall into a blissful silence as they continue to kiss softly in the dark. He guides her on top of him without escalating the intensity of the kisses, his hands settling on her back.

“I don’t wanna go back to work,” Jake says after pulling away with a soft groan.

Amy furrows her eyebrows. “You love work.”

“Yeah, but I love cuddling in bed with you and watching movies all day and ordering takeout for every meal so we don’t have to go outside significantly more.”

She smiles reverently, cupping his face from where she hovers slightly above him and leaning down for another quick peck. “I could get on board with that.”

“Although I’m pretty sure you would get bored of me eventually.”

“Not possible, Peralta,” she says with an eye roll overpowered by the cheesy grin that’s spread across her face.

This time, he hides his rosy cheeks by burying his face in her neck as she settles back into his side. They don’t always sleep this close, but there have been a fair number of nights between the beginning of their relationship and now that they’ve huddled together, either for warmth or out of sheer refusal to let the other go throughout the night. After he returned from Florida and prison, she maintained physical contact with him each day for as close to twenty-four hours as life and work would permit.

“It’s gonna be a really good year,” she hums against his chest once they’re half-asleep again.

She said the same thing roughly a year ago, when they were still engaged and prison still haunted his recent memory, and though he was reluctant to indulge himself in the possibility of a perfect year after the torture the last few had put them through, she was as right as she is about nearly everything. The mere fact that he married Amy Santiago last year makes it the best one of his life thus far, but compared to many others in his past it was, on all fronts, relatively free of conflict and hardship.

So, this time, it’s a bit easier for him to believe her. He’d be willing to bet, in fact, that every year he gets to be married to her is going to be just as full of love and joy and excitement as their first.

“I think so too,” he murmurs with a kiss laid on top of her head. “Love you.”

She smiles confidently as she says “I love you more,” the element of competition not wavering in their relationship even in the moments bursting with raw affection, and Jake is reminded of his beautiful, intelligent partner who annoyed him daily, was the only one to ever challenge his status as the best detective at the precinct, and for whom he fell harder than he’d ever dreamt of falling before. The woman that is now, and has been for longer than he realized, the best thing that’s happened to him in thirty-eight years on this earth. The person he’s going to spend every day he has left with if he has any say in the matter.

He smiles back at her and says with more certainty than he’s ever said anything in his life:

“Not possible, Santiago.”

[pastelgrungewrecker]

Fathers and Well-Wishers

{Semi-Direct Sequel to This}

There are moments that the words don’t reach. There’s a grace too powerful to name.

“I’m DONE TODAY.”

Whirl sighed, disappointed, as Mimi gathered her crutches with grinding teeth and situated them under her arms. The heavy sounds of unsteady and new steps was loud in his ears as she passed through the back door into the house.

He shook his head.

It was more of the same through the day.

It was Perceptor and Mimi reduced to a screaming match because “You need to be ACTIVE Froggy- sedentary activities could have disastrous side-effects and I don’t want you suffering anymore than you have!”

It was Drift and Mimi snarling at each other when he told her to listen to her father because “He has your best interests in mind, and you need SOMEONE to look after you!”

It was Brainstorm trying his best to be gentle, and ending up being heavyhanded enough for Mimi to shakily get up on new prosthetics and limp away from him with a stormcloud expression.

It was Ratchet knocking on her shut bedroom door, and getting no answer but the sound of a dresser being shoved in front of it.

It was Whirl, after Mimi had stalked in and set off the house, shaking his head and rubbing his temple from the headache that had formed. Ratchet sat in his usual armchair, Perceptor perched on his thigh while Drift lounged on the floor in his feline way.

Brainstorm paced angrily, wracking his brain for a solution to a problem that was still clouded in his vision when Cyclonus returned along the sound of rampaging feet. The gathered adults looked up at the kids who ran in, only to tip toe down the hall and listen at the door for a moment.

They watched, and Quickdraw knocked softly.

“Hey Mimi? You okay in there?”

“I’m fine.”, was the sighed answer, “Just... having a day, okay?”

“‘S all good, sis. We’ll be playing a couple rounds on the tv in my room, if you wanna join later. You want first shower tonight?”

“I’m fine, QD.”

“Okay.”

Ratchet raised an eyebrow as Quickdraw shepherded his siblings away from Mimi’s bedroom door with hushed tones.

Cyclonus looked over the silent living-room gathering, and frowned deeper as his gaze froze over at the visible stress on each face. Perceptor breathed a sigh of relief when Cyclonus’s back went ramrod straight, and he stepped silently to Mimi’s door.

Tap, tap, tap. Overlong nails, perfectly kept, rapped on Mimi’s door.

“I am coming in, little one.”

He pushed against the door, and frowned at the weight for a moment until the sound of furniture sliding on the floor was suddenly loud in the air. The door opened to show a glimpse of Mimi pulling herself back onto her bed, prosthetics left beside it, and then Cyclonus closed the door behind him.

“He’ll talk some sense into her.”, said Perceptor matter-of-factly, “It’s a specialty of his with the kids.”

“Not sure about that, Perce.”, said Brainstorm, “His expression didn’t exactly say Not In My House.”

“Then what do you think he’s going to do?”, snorted Whirl as Ratchet chuckled.

Brainstorm glanced back at the door, “The look on his face was like an angry hen discovering their brood’s been messed with.”

Cyclonus was in Mimi’s room until night fell. The moon had begun to rise, the other children tapping on Mimi’s door and softly calling their “G’night!” even though there was no answer.

Once again, worried parents gathered in the living room, television playing but the volume too low to bother noticing. Ratchet’s foot tapped a rapid two-time tempo out on the carpet as the door finally opened, and Mimi stood with Cyclonus’s arm around her shoulders.

His face looked like thunder and lightning; like hurricanes and hellstorms as the crags and sharp cliff-edges of a long life stood in stark relief.

He led her out; gentle in his touches but still shaking with anger.

He sent a look from parent to parent, before he growled his words like a dragon breathing fire.

“I have never seen so stupid and insensitive a group in my long life.”

Stunned silence. Cyclonus held Mimi closer, letting her arms go around his waist and her face bury itself against his side as she murmured, “Don’t be upset, Papa-Cy-”

“Your eldest has lost her LEGS. She has lost her sense of SAFETY she has sacrificed the only DUTY that MATTERED to her... And the lot of you do nothing but poke and prod and pinch at her. She has been home from surgery for LESS THAN A MONTH.”

The sea of shocked and paling faces simply ramped Cyclonus’s anger higher.

“YOU ARE ALL AN EMBARRASSMENT.”

He looked to Brainstorm, “When you were tearing your hair out over that Quark fellow- what did the ones around you do?!”

“N-Nothing, really they-”

“They let you be, they let you realign, did they NOT?”

Brainstorm squeaked softly at the sharp uptick in Cyclonus’s barked words but nodded.

Cyclonus looked to Ratchet, “And you, old medic- when your hands were damaged, when you were lamenting your loss of importance- were crewmates hassling you to work more, work harder after experiencing pain?!”

Ratchet said nothing, but gave a short shake of his head.

Cyclonus looked to Drift, and narrowed his eyes, “I will not mention the coddling you received from Rodimus- I still find it distasteful; if, in the end, necessary. And yet you did not afford your CHILD the same respect. Pathetic.”

And then to Whirl, “You, who knew firsthand how being disregarded felt; how could you, Whirl. How could you simply ignore what she was working through in order to sate your desire for The Way Things Were.”

Perceptor opened his mouth to speak- a terrible decision as it were. Cyclonus rounded on him, in highest of tempers and coldest of rage.

“I didn’t need so much time after I lost-”

“You refused to ACCEPT such time, Perceptor; and we all know how that colored your treatment of Mimosa for HOW LONG exactly?”

A killing blow, as the color drained from Perceptor’s face rapidly and all who gathered looked to the shivering young woman clinging to Cyclonus’s side.

He spoke again, “This is not wartime. This is peace, after a fashion. This is new- and so is she. You have all blinded yourself with your dependency on her active showing of love. Blinded yourselves to the point where you forgot one simple thing.”

He looked at them all, disgust and some kind of disappointment on his face.

“She is a child, compared to us. She may be the eldest of the younglings but for Primus’s sake she is a CHILD. She is far younger than any of us were when we experienced this kind of LOSS.”

“She is no wide-known scientist. She is no premier CMO. She is not a star Aerial Corps member turned Clockmaker,  no artisan defiled in his decline.”

He rubbed Mimi’s arm, gently murmuring comfort to her a moment before continuing, “She is no deahtbringer wounded in battle. She is no nightmare turned hero. She is our Mimi, and she has not yet graduated school- She is our eldest daughter, and she has experienced a sudden and painful loss.”

His eyebrows tilted down.

“How dare all of you deny her the chance to MOURN.”

Whirl stared at his metallic hands; oddly fingered and scuffed and remembered how long it took him to accept them as part of himself. He winced, remembering as he berated Mimi to simply “Get with the program, Froggy- they’re your legs now, no going back!”

Brainstorm covered his trembling mouth as he looked back on his “well-meaning” prodding, seeing it a new and nagging light and turning his back on Cyclonus.

Ratchet let his exaustion and worry show, trying to say his apologies for looking away from behaviors he had known shouldn’t happen, shouldn’t be promoted- and yet were allowed under his watch.

Drift gnawed his lip and hung his head, hugging his knees for a moment before he remembers seeing Mimi trying to do the same in the hospital while he sat by her bed- remembering hearing her fidget and begin to sob and realizing what she had tried to do, what she had realized had been taken, “...You tried to... You cry when you hold your....”

Perceptor was stunned, silent; Mimi looked at him, and looked away. All this time he had thought he had been comforting her, consoling her, when- He simply had assumed it was his place to...

“Thankfully, our other children respect such things. And act accordingly. I am glad to know our eldest raised them right.”

The room was heavy and silent; pained and regretful. Cyclonus nudged Mimi to give him room to move, and took her face in his rough hands before kissing her forehead.

“I am sorry, for what has happened. Take the time you need, youngling- I will be here when you are ready. Now... Go wash up, tomorrow is yet another day. If you would like; you may come with me to the Primal Temple, and see the gardens, or pray if you like to.”

She nodded, “...Yeah, yeah I think I’d like to do that, Papa Cy.”

“Very well. Get ready for bed, little one. It’s late.”

No eyes followed her as she limped; as her slow steps took her away- unsteady as a fledgling and measured as a mourning widow.

When the bathroom door closed, Quickdraw stepped out and shot a glance at his fathers, and he shook his head; tapping at the bathroom door and murmuring loud enough for Mimi to hear that if she needed help, to call for him.

Cyclonus nodded his approval, turning once more to the silently gathered.

“She is proud, and strong, and resilient. But she is not untouchable. She has experienced a new kind of pain- a pain we all may be familiar with, but a pain we were given time to deal with.”, he said, low and level and calm, “I am ashamed of you all right now, that you would act this way. I expect every last one of you to apologize to her; it is the least you could do.”

And with that, he walked away. A pause by the bathroom, listening to be sure Mimi was not having difficulties, and then he continued- safe in the knowledge that the second she was in trouble, Quickdraw, at least, would answer her call.

And for the night, the house was quiet.

When Mimi awoke the next morning- it was not to her normal blaring alarm clock; the sun was long up, the house quiet, and Cyclonus gently shook her shoulder with a tiny smile.

“Come, the gardens await you- and, perhaps, peace on some level.”

Mimi paused, listening for the usual calls of her name and giggles of her siblings and heard nothing. She blinked, and laughed weakly.

“...Papa Cy?”

“Yes?”

“....Can you... Can you help me grab some clothes? I still haven’t rearranged things to make them... easier to get.”

“Of course, little one. When we arrive home, perhaps that will be something that can be taken care of- if and only if you feel up to it. Otherwise, I would happy to start on it for you.”

“That... That would be really helpful, actually.”

She dressed in immodest silence, leaning on Cyclonus when she needed to and teaching him the way she adjusted the straps on her new legs. The door creaked, and she looked up.

Brainstorm waved slightly, his smile tight and his eyes averted.

“Hey kiddo- I... I brought some things, to help with the pressure of the, uhm. Legs. I know Whirl mentioned they can rub pretty bad.”

“...Thanks Bee.”

“Of course. You two have a good day, okay? And... And I’m sorry. For not understanding.”

Mimi looked down, holding padding and covers for the ends of her thighs, and nodded, “...It’s okay.”

“It’s... It’s really not.”

Brainstorm stepped closer, kneeling down and putting his hands over hers as she set aside what he brought, “I always brag about how smart I am, and here I am making some really stupid decisions for my own dumb reasons. It’s okay to be hurting- it’s okay to be sad and it’s okay for all those things to be confusing and hard to deal with. I’m sorry for not giving you a chance to do just that. I’m sorry for trying to make everything be what it used to be. It’s okay for things to change- it’s not your fault; but some of this stuff? The blame falls right on me- on all of us.”

“Bee, it’s okay, really, you and all the dads are only human-”

“You’re human too.”

Mimi jolted, looking to meet Brainstorm’s gaze before blinking away the dampness in her eyes, “... Thank you.”

“You go see those gardens, okay? You and Cy make a day of it. We’ll hold down the fort here.”

He kissed her cheek, making a grand and goofy display until she cackled and whined “Beeeeeee!” before he ruffled her hair.

With a nod to Cyclonus, he got to his feet, smoothed out his rumpled shirt, and took his leave. 

Mimi sat for a moment before trying to push herself to her feet and huffing when it was hard to get it just right- And two iron hands came into her vision. Cyclonus raised his eyebrows, his smile widening slight as Whirl stood in his just-awake glory. Mimi looked up to him. 

He smiled weakly, tired, apologetically.

“C’mon, I’ll anchor ya, ‘kay?”, he rumbled, “It’s tricky, gettin’ used to new balance.”

“So you’ve said.”, she mumbled, almost bitter but mostly tired.

A wince, and a sigh, “...Yeah. It... It takes a while to get used to but- if you decide you want me to, I’ll help ya figure things out. When you’re ready.”

She got up slow, Cyclonus following, and stumbled onto her still-new feet and landing against Whirl’s chest. His arms went around her and he kissed the top of her wavy mop of hair as he hugged her tight. She was still for a moment, then returned the embrace.

The moment passed, and then Whirl released her and stepped back- his hands cold but gentle on her shoulders, “You have a good day with Cy, m’kay? The kids are already off to school- Perce and Ratch’ll get ‘em in a few minutes. They’re on half days for a bit longer. Drift is on dinner duty, and Brainstorm’s got dibs on homework hour.”

Mimi nodded.

A careful squeeze of her shoulders, and he was gone. Cyclonus offered his arm to steady her, and they walked through the quiet house and out the front door.

Mimi’s alarm clock sat silent- the digital face dark. The cord hung limp, unplugged from the wall.

Later, it would be replaced by a small envelope. Marked with shakily written glyphs for Dri, filled with words he had never been good at saying.

She liked the Primal Temple’s gardens.

They were quiet, they were calm. They were walled and lonely in all the right ways....

They were safe, to someone who’s dreams felt the exact opposite.

[orangeoctopi7]

Polar Bear Swim

@stanuary Week 2! This one doesn’t follow the theme really, but... uh, Stan had to travel to California to visit the kids! Yes! Nailed it!

Behold! Vaguely implied Pines Family Headcanons!

This is based on one of my own family traditions, just replace California with southern Arizona.

“This sure beats spendin’ the holidays in the Arctic, eh?” Stanley grinned.

“The weather certainly is more pleasant here in California.” Stanford admitted.

“And you wanted to stay on the boat.”

“I did not!”

Even though it'd been barely over a month since they saw the kids over Thanksgiving weekend, the younger twins had insisted their Grunkles come back to visit for Hanukkah and Christmas. Ford had complained for all of five minutes about having to come back to civilization just as they were getting used to life on the sea.  He'd been kidding, of course, he was ecstatic for another excuse to see his wonderful niblings again, and more importantly that their parents didn't think the elder twins were too dangerous to be around the children. But Stan just wasn't going to let him live it down.

They weren't even halfway up the walkway when their playful argument was cut short. A pair of adolescent-shaped rockets shot out the door and charged right into the old men. Luckily the blow was softened by some very puffy coats.

“You're here!!” Mabel squealed, clinging onto Ford's arm like a monkey on a vine.

“So we are.” Ford agreed, not sure how else to respond.

“What's with the coats?” Stan asked incredulously, “It's like a million degrees out here!”

“It's 63 and breezey. That's cold.” Dipper defended.

“Heh, maybe in California.” Stan scoffed. “Y'know when Soos called me earlier he said they got another six inches of snow last night. And… how cold was it when we left Reykjavic?”

“3 Celcius.” Ford answered. “That's actually warmer than it's been in Gravity Falls, it's above freezing.”

“Yeah, well, it's been way below freezing on the Stan'owar II the last few weeks. What I'm tryin’ to say is, you two're wimps.”

Dipper and Mabel giggled fondly. Typical Stan.

“Well in that case, the Polar Bear Swim should be a cakewalk for you two.” A voice called from the door. The two sets of twins turned to see Shermie standing in the doorway, grinning conspiratorially.

“What's a Polar Bear Swim?” Ford asked, his curiosity piqued.

“It's this really fun family tradition we have!” Mabel explained eagerly, “on the coldest day of winter break, we fill up the swimming pool and the hot tub! You have to jump in the pool first and go all the way under, then you get to go in the hot tub!”

“Just a few seconds in the pool and then ya jump straight into a hot tub? Easy.” Stan said confidently.

“We didn't bring swimsuits.” Ford pointed out. “I mean, I do have our wetsuits for diving, because I wanted to watch pillow lava forming while we were in Iceland, but it's insulated and

that seems to defeat the purpose.”

“Don't worry, I've got some extras.” Shermie assured them, “ I think they'll fit. Might be a little tight on Stan, but…”

“Hey!” Stan grunted.

“That's not for another two days anyway, let's get inside and have dinner!” Dipper changed the subject impatiently. He was shivering despite his puffy coat.

They all headed inside for dinner, but that wasn't the last they heard of the Polar Bear Swim.

*Line break*

The next day Shermie's son, Micha, was filling up the pool, and the elder twins were helping by setting up the hot-tub. It wasn’t particularly large and was typically empty through the winter. But as small as the pool was, the hot tub was miniscule. It was just deep enough to come up to a grown man's neck if he crouched as he sat, and barely wide enough to cram three grown men into, if you ignored any need for personal space.

Stan scratched his head as he compared the size of the hot tub he'd just inflated with the pool set into Micha’s back yard.

“Uh, I'm not the math wiz here…” he started.

“Don't sell yourself short, Stanley.” Ford chided him, “You proved to be more than proficient in math when you rebuilt--”

“I'm tryin’ to make a point here, Poindexter.” Stan rolled his eyes. “I was sayin’, we got one big pool to fill with cold water, but just one little hot tub. No way all of us are gonna fit in there. I'm sure you an’ Debbs enjoy gettin’ intimate when it's just the two of you, but I don't think you wanna get squished in there with a couple of old geezers.”

Micha gave a short evil laugh. “Ahaha, that's the trick, isn't it? Limited space in the hot tub means you've got to be fast enough and smart enough to claim your space before it runs out. And if you're too late, what will you do? Force your way in and try to crowd the others out? Bargain? Lie? Or just give up and fall victim to the elements?”

“That sounds like a good way to start a family feud.” Ford said bemusedly.

“Well, I understand if you two don't want to participate.”

“Pch, are you kiddin’ me? After the freezing cold of the Arctic, this is nothin’.”

“Did you ever jump into the ocean though?” Micha asked, “Cold water and cold air are completely different animals.”

“No, we actively avoid that.” Ford said wryly. “Although, there was a time I jumped into a frozen river to save a drowning hinterlupe pup.”

“Oh yeah? Well I’ve had to cross a river in the middle of the winter to ditch the mafia tailing me, twice!”

“Yes, well, once I was on the run from bounty hunters and had to spend an hour submerged in hyperdrive collant.”

“Well one time I was smuggling canadian bacon across Lake Superior in the worst storm of the century…”

Micha could only watch with wide eyes as his uncles continued to one-up each other with more and more ludicrous stories of how they’d survived longer and in colder conditions. The worst part was, he couldn’t be sure what was an exaggeration and what was true. For all he knew, it could all be true! They were all so caught up in it, not one of them noticed Debbs had come out to the back yard to join them.

“Boys, boys, this isn’t a suffering contest.” She scolded them playfully. “It’s just a little bit of family fun!”

“Yeah, with a fight to the death over who gets the hot tub at the finish.” Stan grunted.

“Or you could just go take a hot shower afterwards, like a sane person.” Debbs suggested.

“Aha! But there are only two showers!” Micha grinned maniacally.

“Hon, stop messing with them.” She turned to the Stans, “He used to rile the kids up like this every year, but they’re old enough now they don’t scare like they used to.”

Ford gave small, sheepish smile. “I imagine there are a lot of things that don’t scare them anymore.”

“I’d say that’s a good thing.” She replied simply. “Now let’s get to work, it’s getting late and it’ll only get colder after dark.”

*Linebreak*

“Uuuuugh, I hate the waiting part!” Mabel complained. She was already in her swimsuit. “Let’s go jump in now!”

“Mabel, it’s barely past 11.” Dipper said. “Give the sun some time to warm up the water!”

“I thought the whole point of this was to jump in while it’s cold?” Stan asked.

“Well, yeah, but, within reason.” The boy responded.

“Well what difference is one hour gonna make when it’s cloudy?” Mabel replied, “It’s already as warm as the forecast says it’s gonna get. Besides, if I go now, I get dibs on the hot tub!” With that, she got up and ran for the door to the back yard.

“Wait! Mabel, no fair!” Her brother shouted after her, dashing into his room to change.

“And they’re off!” Micha announced cheekily, bolting for his own room. Debbs was not far behind him.

“Nobody jump in until I’ve got the camera!” Shermie shouted, “I want to test my new GoPro!”

“They take this pretty seriously, don’t they?” Ford commented. When he got no response, he turned to see Stan had already left. “Hey!”

“Every man for himself, Sixer!” the old con man yelled from the guest-room.

*Linebreak*

The elder twins got to the back yard just in time to see Mabel jump in with a shriek. She swam to the other end and resurfaced. “C’mon Dipper!” She called to her brother, who was sitting on the little diving board, testing the water with his toes. “You know it’s better to jump in and get it over with!”

Dipper suddenly stood and stared at the water for a few long seconds, took a deep breath, and jumped. He screamed like a banshee when his head came back up out of the water, and he quickly swam to meet his sister at the end of the pool.

“Ok, that was great, now let’s do it again with a shot from a different angle!” Shermie called.

“Grandpa!” The two complained at his teasing, getting out of the pool and running straight for the hot tub. They both sighed loudly once they were in.

Stan was climbing onto the little diving board when Micha suddenly burst out of the house and dashed to the pool, jumping over the side like a penguin hopping into the ocean.

“One of these days,” Debbs shook her head as she just walked down the pool steps and submerged herself, “you're gonna slip and hurt yourself. And as long as you're not hurt too badly, I'm gonna laugh.”

Back on top of the diving board, Stan had noticed something. “Hey Shermie, where's your swimsuit?”

“You're wearing it.” Shermie reminded him.

“Oh, so you expect us to jump into the pool in the middle of the winter, but you're gonna stay high and dry!?”

“Well, someone's got to document this!”

“Isn't that camera waterproof?”

“Yeah, dad's a little old for this thing. He hasn't done it in a few years.” Micha explained as he climbed out of the pool and into the hot tub.

“But we're sixteen years older than he is!” Ford protested.

“Well, legally, yes, but it's actually closer to six years what with the time--” Shermie muttered.

“You both seemed so eager to prove that you were tough enough to do it.” Micha smiled innocently.

“We are tough enough!!” Stan steamed. He turned to Ford, “Ladies first.”

Ford smirked “We'd both better go, then.”

Stan chuckled and punched his brother's arm. It was very tempting to push Ford in, but he could tell by the conspiratorial glint in his brother's eye, they both had their eyes on a bigger prize.

“Get in close so you can take a good video, Shermie. I wanna show generations to come we didn't wuss out.”

“Fine, fine.” Shermie agreed, taking a step closer to the diving board.

Standing atop the diving board, the elder twins could feel a chilly breeze they hadn't noticed on the ground. Stan hesitated. The diving board was higher up than it looked, and he knew this was going to be COLD. He could feel Ford hesistate too for a fraction of a second. The tiny rational part of his brain told him to get back inside and into some propper clothes.

Stan had never paid much attention to that part of his brain.

With a whoop, the two brothers sprang into the water, carefully aiming to splash as much as possible onto Shermie. A giant wave washed over the old camera man.

It was so cold that Stan didn't really think about his prank, or anything really, except for getting out of that pool! He'd known it was going to be cold, but it seemed no matter how many times he'd had to jump into cold water, his body was never going to get used to it. He almost didn’t have the presence of mind to remember what he was going to do. Almost.

Stan and Ford surfaced right next to the edge where Shermie was standing, still gasping and spluttering from the wave that had splashed him. He didn’t notice two pairs of hands grab him and pull him into the water until it was too late.

“Hahahah! How’s that for an action shot?” Stan asked triumphantly, his teeth chattering with cold.

“Guh-gonnna drown you j-j-j-jerks!” Shermie stammered, shivering and pulling himself out of the water.

“I can’t believe you actually fell for that!” Ford chuckled.

“You three must have emptied half the pool!” Dipper cheered.

Between the lack of glasses and the dripping water, Stan could barely see, so he followed the sound of the boy's voice and blundered into the hot tub, not caring if or who he sat on. Ford was not far behind him. Shermie at least stopped to make sure his camera was ok. It was.

“Ooookay, I think I'll join your mother in the shower.” Micha decided when the old men started to crowd him out.

“Eeeew!” Mabel and Dipper cringed.

They felt instantly better once they were in the hot tub. Nobody had been in the cold pool long enough to lower their core body temperature, so they all warmed up quite nicely. Stan wiped the water out of his eyes and took a look at Shermie, who looked like nothing so much as a wet cat.

“Grandpa, I think we can all agree that qualifies you for the hot tub.” Mabel told him.

Shermie's only reply was to climb in beside her.

“You're getting in with your clothes still on!?” Dipper asked in alarm.

“They're already soaked, and I not taking the time to peel them off.”

Mabel and Dipper gave up their spots for their Grandpa. They figured they'd had enough time to warm up.

“Wasn't that fun?” Mabel asked.

The three brothers shared a bemused look. Fun was not the word they'd use to describe it.

“Y'know, Shermie, maybe we are too old for this.” Stan admitted.