#and this kids is why my vitamins need to live on the kitchen table and not the counter

[sketchs-trashcan]

lads, if you're constantly exhausted and not even a nap can fix it, think about whether or not you've been getting enough iron lately

[addictedwritingg]

Hate Means Love Ch.1

Jenna Ortega x Male Character.

Summary: Jenna Ortega shares a house with her roommate's, one of them being a male she can't stand, in other words, hates. He loves to tease and feed her hatred just to watch her for his pleasure (wink wink).

Warnings! - inappropriate language, teasing, arguing, and I think that's about it!

I walk into the house coming back from the gym wearing some gray sweatpants with my shirt off and thrown over my shoulder. I look over to Jenna who was starting at me with her annoying brown doe eyes as I walk to the kitchen to get my smoothie.

"If you want me to send you a picture of me, I can do that" I tease her as I tilt my drink back taking a swig.

"Shut up" She scoffs "You look fucking ridicules."

I laugh at her comment knowing I definitely don't look ridicules, I mean not to be cocky, but I work very hard on my body every day, and I'm built and healthy.

"Can you two please not start today, you might as well be married at this point." our other roommate/friend Trina says to us as she comes out of her room.

"Mmm married, let's do it Jenna." I tease her, carrying on my antics.

Jenna rolls her eyes at me and sighs with an annoyed breath. I walk over to the couch and sit across from her on the other couch and get on my phone scrolling through Instagram. I finish my smoothie and set the cup next to me on the side table when Devin our other roommate and friend walks inside.

"Yooo my boy, Devin, looking sexy." I joke with a laugh.

"Thanks honey, you are too." he winks playing along.

"You ready for tonight?" I ask standing up to throw my empty smoothie bottle in the trash.

Devin gives me a "wait" look before i finish my sentence, causing me to look at him.

"What you guys got planned?" Jenna asks curiously.

"Ohhhhh, you didn't invite them?" I laugh tossing my drink in the garbage.

"No, no that's not it, I haven't told them yet, there both coming, at least I hope" he says as he puts his groceries away.

"Where too?" Jenna ask.

"Party tonight, at one of Devin and I's friend's house."

"No arguing tonight guys!" Devins yells as he walks to his room out of sight.

Jenna is leaning against the kitchen counter cornered into the corner of the wall with her arms crossed. I walk over and hover over her as I was much taller than her, and lean over her, just inches from her face.

"You hear that? try and be a good girl tonight." I grin as I reach behind her and grab my vitamin's she was in the way of.

She pushes me and walks away as I laugh out loud to myself. Why Jenna and I never got along, I couldn't say, we have never clicked. She says I'm a condescending dick and I say she's a total bitch, but here we are, living in the same 4 walls.

Jenna's POV.

"UGHHHHH Andre (male characters name) is so annoying!" I yell plopping down on Trina's bed as she does her make up in her mirror.

"You guys have been like that since you were kids, it's got to be like angry sexual tension now that you guys are adults." Trina says making me jump up in shock with my mouth hanging open.

"Ew, I would never, I just hate him so much." I say in disgust at the thought of it.

Trina rolls her eyes followed with a laugh at my actions. She sets her make-up brush in her brush cup making a clink sound and turns to face me.

"I want to have a good time tonight, and so should you Jen! you need too!" She says grabbing my hand and giving me a warm smile. "Here, I have the perfect outfit you can wear, but you will have to grab some hair clips because I can't find mine." she says getting up and heading to her closet.

I get up and walk to my room to get some of my hair clips, before I open my door, I walk into Andre who is coming out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist, and then my eyes follow down to his bulge beneath his towel and I couldn't help but stair in surprise.

"My eyes are up here" he says placing his finger under my chin gently lifting my face up, causing me to slap his hand away seeing that stupid grin on his face.

"Don't touch me dumbass" I scoff opening my door and walking into my room.

He laughs and follows me leaning against my doorway.

"So, you can look at my dick, but I can't advert your eyes?" He laughs crossing his arms.

"I was not looking at you're di- Andre get out I'm busy." I say cutting myself off not wanting to deal with his shit.

Andre's POV.

I walk away to my room with a grin on my face to get dressed and ready for the party. I take my towel off and slip on some Calvin Klien black underwear and some simply black Nike socks when I'm interrupted by Devin.

"Yo bro, think I could borrow you're Jordan 1s?" He asks with his head hooked around the door peering in my room.

"Yeah, go ahead man, just not the white and gray ones, I'm wearing them tonight." I say pointing to my closet full of my shoes.

He nods at me, thanking me as he heads towards my closet, and I continue getting ready.

*Time skip*

All of us are in the parking garage heading down to the building for the party when I hand Trina my phone and ask her to snap a picture of me to post on Instagram later.

"Thanks Trina, looks great." I say taking my phone back and shoving it into my pocket.

We get down the parking garage and walk across the street to enter into the building. I'm greeted by all my old friends, and I couldn't be happier. As I look around the room, I notice all the hot women walking around hanging off their friends and talking loudly from the alcohol they have already consumed. I head over to the drink table and grab a red solo cup and fill it to the brim with Captain Morgan, because I'm getting wasted tonight. Jenna approaches from behind me and I look at her taking a sip out of my cup.

"Jesus, are you a damn alcoholic?" She says grabbing a cup, noticing how much pure alcohol is in my cup.

"It's Captain Morgan, here try some." I lift her chin gently with my fingers and tilt her head back bringing my cup to her lips, sliding my thumb to her bottom lip to pull it down so I could gently pour some into her mouth. I wipe the access liquid from her bottom lip and suck it off my finger. "See, it's good" I say with a grin leaving Jenna at the drink table.

Jenna POV.

I stood there as my stomach burned with a feeling I've never felt from that damn boy I hated so much, But I knew he only did it to get a reaction out of me and holy fuc- I was cut off my Trina coming up behind me placing a hand on my shoulder.

"Uhm, that was hot as fuck, and I don't even think of Andre that way."

"Trina!" I say slapping her hand playfully. "He did that shit on purpose, why he did it, couldn't tell you."

Trina rolls her eyes and grabs my hand to drag me into the other room. "Come on there playing do or drink!" she says with a giggle dragging me like a bad kid in the store.

We sit down across from Devin and Andre on a couch and pick our cups up so everyone can take a shot to start the game. I look over to Devin who seems to already have a girl for the night as she's sitting on his lap with her arms wrapped around him, which should be fun to hear the antics tonight.

"Alright, I'll go first!" a man with blonde hair says grabbing a card and proceeds to read it. "Who are you taking home tonight? or drink 2 shots" He laughs after reading around the room and then scans the room to see. "I'm going to take her home tonight!" he says pointing at this blonde girl across the room making Devin and Andre laugh in unison. I continue to drink on my cup feeling light and fuzzy, but in a good way and that's when I hear Trina tell me it's my turn. I grab my card and read it out loud. "Sit in the persons lap directly across from you for the rest of the game or drink 5 shots." I say with a smile looking up to only notice its Andre directly across from me making my smile slowly fade and turn into an irritated expression as I see his stupid grin growing. "You got to be fucking kidding" I say to myself looking at my cup and then back to him. I sigh out loud and walk to him as he slouches in his seat making room for me to sit. I snatch a pillow from the drunk blonde and place it on Andre's lap too avoid any contact with him. I sit on the pillow and look at him visible annoyed.

"You smell good but look like shit." he says with a stupid chuckle.

"Please, I don't want to sit in your lap at all, but 5 shots are way too much." I roll my eyes.

He yanks the pillow out from under me making me yelp and tosses it to the other couch.

"That wasn't part of the rules, no cheating" He grins.

"Asshole" was all I could Munster to say as I turned away from him to ignore him.

About 10 minutes go by and I've just accepted my situation at this point and leaned back into him as it hurt my body sitting so stiff for so long. I finish the last little bit in my cup and Trina offers to get me more since she was getting up to get herself some. I then suddenly feel Andre's hand snake around me and sit on my upper thigh close to my region but not close enough to touch. His hand is huge and practically covers my whole upper thigh. He squeezes it and leans up to my ear, I can feel his warm breath on my ear making me sit closer back to him as the sensation was intoxicating. He squeezes my thigh harder, hard enough to leave a bruise, but in the best way possible as this boy was intoxicating me with arousal.

"You know." His lips brushed against my ear making my back slightly arch, just a little. "For someone who hates me you sure aren't acting like it right now."

I sit up and look at him and scoff, I don't know what the fuck I was doing but I wasn't going to let it keep happening.

"Your such an asshole, stop talking to me." I say annoyed.

and then I look back at him.

"I could say the same thing for you considering you legit have a boner, from me." he laughs and takes a drink out of his cup.

"Stop moving so much on my dick then, I'm sure if you took you're underwear off you would be we-" I cut him off and got off him.

"I'm going to get a drink, your stupid." I say standing up to go find Trina.

End of Chapter 1.

A/N: I'm sorry if this chapter is kind of all over the place or even kind of slow, I'm trying to give a good view of the relationship they have together. Also, this is my first fic I've written and I'm by no means good at it all, chapter 2 will be out very soon! I hope you guys liked it!! and PSA, there will be LOTS of smut in this story very very soon.

[chibinightowl]

Tim tells himself he won't do it again. The first few times were accidents and definitely not done on purpose (those were the more recent incidents). It's just--Jason is so nice to him and always shows him how to do basic repairs, things that his dad never showed him how to do when he even bothered to stay at home.

It has absolutely nothing to do with how hot and muscled and downright delicious looking his handyman is. (It has everything to do with it, who is he trying to kid here?)

He manages to wait another day before climbing onto his patio roof and shoving a tennis ball into the gutter pipe. There are kids next door who throw slobbery tennis balls for their gigantic dog all the time. Tim's found plenty of them in his yard, so it's a valid excuse. Of course, he has to do all of this while it's pouring rain outside, because why else would he notice the problem in the first place?

When Tim answers the door to Jason a day later, he's running a slight fever and is feeling more than slightly pathetic for having caught a cold due to his efforts.

"Hey, Tim!" Jason greets him brightly, looking all handsome and rugged in his jeans and red t-shirt. He doesn't have his tool belt on yet, which is a shame since it frames his ass so nicely. "Wow, you look like crap."

Tim wipes his nose with the back of his hand. He's run out of tissues and his grocery order hasn't arrived yet. "Feel like it too," he sniffs.

Jason shakes his head and reaches out to ruffle Tim's hair. He does it often and Tim has to force himself not to lean into it. He fails today and moans softly at the touch, which Jason apparently misinterprets.

"Maybe you should go lie down. When was the last time you drank anything?" he asks, taking hold of Tim's arm and guiding him to the living room where there's a nest of blankets on the couch already.

"Umm..."

"Right. Sit, and I'll be right back."

At this point, Jason probably knows the kitchen better than Tim does, what with all the repairs he's done in there over the last three months. It's nice to have someone fussing over him, which is a silver lining Tim didn't expect. Not that it'll last for long. Jason has to leave at some point here soon.

"Here, drink this."

Tim looks up blearily to a steaming cup of something that isn't coffee. "Huh?"

"It's some cold and flu medicine. I had it out in my truck."

Tim didn't even notice him step outside. Wow.

Jason hands over the mug and makes sure he has a good grasp on it before letting go. "I'm gonna go check your gutter. I want this at least halfway gone by the time I come back."

"Okay," Tim manages weakly.

He does his best and is even more sleepy when Jason returns a short time later.

"I found your problem."

Tim blinks at the bright tennis ball being held up to his face. "Oh."

Jason chuckles and takes a seat on the coffee table, knees spread wide as he leans in. "You know, there are easier ways to ask me out than shoving tennis balls down your drain."

It takes a minute for Tim's fever-addled brain to catch up. When it does, he blushes so hard it's hard to tell if he's red from embarrassment or the fever. "I'm sorry," he mutters and tries to hide under his blankets.

Jason catches his hand and the mug before it spills all over. "Don't be," he says as he sets the mug aside. He doesn't let go of Tim's hand. "I think it's kinda cute. And so are you."

Tim's ears light up this time and any words he tries to form are lost under a cough he barely manages to cover with his other hand. "Sorry."

"Nah, don't worry about it. I'm healthier than a horse." Jason squeezes his hand gently and lets go. "When you're feeling better, give me a call. We can go out for coffee or something."

Tim smiles and privately vows to add more vitamin C and zinc and whatever else he needs to get better faster. "I'd like that."

"I do too."

[subpar-ghoulfriend]

Let’s have a baby

yandere!EraserMicx PREGNANT!Reader 

A terrible mix up leading to an accidental pregnancy? Or something more intentional? Either way now you were pregnant with (none other than the beloved power couple heroes) Eraserhead and Present Mic’s child. Time to discuss how co parenting is going to work. 

TW: pregnancy, artificial insemination, yandere elements, mentions of stalking, alludes to potential custody battle

You had been avoiding the two men for the past week, which was challenging seeing as they managed to find your phone number, address, and place of work. Any time you blocked their calls they got a new number. Two Pro Heroes versus a twenty something civilian, it was only a matter of time until you were cornered.

Now the couple stood between you and your apartment. You had a long shift at your job as a pet groomer and just wanted to get some rest.

Present Mic was the first to speak. "Hey lil momma, we heard you had work today so we brought you some dinner. We thought we could talk over a nice meal."

You had no response. You were tired, both physically and emotionally. You had been put through the ringer ever since meeting them at your doctors office. It was a total Jane the Virgin situation. You went in for an assessment about some supposed ovarian cysts and unknowing left artificially inseminated. There was a supposed mix up, a digital glitch that somehow merged your chart with the surrogates - apparently your names were super similar. Two weeks later you were called back into the doctor's office and informed of what took place. And now you were in this living nightmare.

And the two heroes had nothing to do with the error. There was totally a surrogate. They hadn't paid off your provider. And why would they? You had never met them - although given their patrols they may have seen you once or twice...

They were tearful when they were informed of the mix up, they had been waiting patiently through the whole process and now everything was thrown in chaos. They offered to compensate you for your service which sent you into a blind rage. They just assumed you would carry a child, a child with half of your DNA, and then give YOUR baby away. Rationally you understood that they had planned to be be the only parents to the child, but that was with a professional surrogate who understood the process, who didn't want the child in their life, just happy to help out a loving couple. But that wasn't you, you grew up wanting to be a mom, and now they would take that from you.

What if they tried to legally take sole custody of the baby? Surely they had some pull in the judicial system. Besides, they were a solid couple with money, while you were alone with no family and working two jobs. The thought made you sick to your stomach.

You were shaking as you tried to push past them. Maybe they would just disappear if you ignored them, a girl could dream. But instead they tagged along inside. Albeit you weren’t fighting them on it, you knew this had to happen eventually.

Aizawa easily found the cluttered dining table in your small apartment. You flinched when the loud one tried to help you shrug off your backpack. Taking a seat on the couch you waited for them to start berating you.

"Come sit at the table, dinner is getting cold," Eraser spoke for the first time.

"I'll eat later, I'm not hungry."

"You may not be, but the baby needs to eat."

You glared, how dare they insinuate you didn't know what your child needed. If your body was hungry, you ate. If you were full the baby was full too.

But, you complied, not wanting to argue, "Fine, but I ate a snack not too long ago."

As you ate, Mic kept you company, picking at some left overs, they clearly ate before their visit. Aizawa was rummaging through your place but you managed to hold your tongue until he began throwing things out of your fridge.

"What are you doing?" You hissed, getting up out of your seat.

"Mic and I will bring you groceries tomorrow. The food you have is barely safe for an adult, let alone a fetus."

"Are you kidding me? It's not like I'm chugging alcohol and living off Twinkies. Hey! I just bought those turkey slices. How is turkey bad?" You whined.

To make sure you wouldn't dig the food out trash he dumped it out of his container.

"Zashi, don't let me forget to empty the trash on our way out. Do you know how much salt is in deli meat? And there's no way you can drink any of this while you're pregnant." He gestures to the cans of soda.

As the frustration built you had to fight back tears. They couldn't come in to your home and start throwing out your things.

"Some of us don't make ridiculous money, I'm buying what I can afford and the doctor never had any problem with my health." You hissed.

Hizashi felt the tension thickening, "Hey hey hey, it's okay. Sho and I will go get you some good stuff. We just gotta watch out for you and baby."

And that was the end of your resolve, you stomped past the Hero and locked yourself in your bedroom. Finally tears began to drip down your cheeks.

Back in your kitchen Mic was chiding his boyfriend for being so tough on you.

"So I should just back down while she stuffs herself with junk food?"

Mic gave him a shrug, showing him a bottle on your counter, "At lest she's taking her prenatal vitamins?"

Grabbing the keys to your apartment Aizawa instructed Mic to wait with you while he got you better groceries. He would make copies of your keys on his was back.

You prayed they would leave soon. You were laying in your bed having cried yourself out. Barely into your second month of pregnancy. You still had to endure this for at least seven more months, but most likely much longer.

Next thing you knew you were opening your eyes and the clock read seven AM. By now your uninvited guests must be gone. Nervously you sat up, praying that you'd skip the morning sickness just once this week. You had always had a weak stomach and even the doctor was surprised you were already experiencing the symptom. Unfortunately the minute your feet touched the floor you knew what was coming. You sprinted to the restroom, not even checking to see if the duo had left.

God this was terrible, you didn't just hate throwing up, you were terrified of it. What if you started and never stopped? But it did come to an end. You wiped the water from your eyes and took a moment before standing from the floor. You screamed when a hand slid under your arm, helping you up. Another set of feet rushed to the bathroom.

" What's wrong?" Hizashi huffed as he skid to a stop.

You pulled arm free from Aizawa's grasp. "What are you two still doing here?"

You turned in the faucet to rinse your mouth. Trying to calm your stress, the nausea was trying to return.

Undeterred the scruff pulled your hair into a bun before rubbing your back. You debated returning to bed but that wouldn't get them out of your apartment. You told them you need to sit down, both of them nodding, still wearing their concerned expressions. They got you a glass of water before joining you on the couch. Stubborn men, you sat at the end of the couch so they couldn't both sit, but Mic decided to perch himself on the armrest.

He started petting your hair, "You feelin better little listener?" You nodded in response.

"I got you more food, let us know if your hungry."

You sighed in defeat, "I'm barely two months pregnant, I can fend for myself. What did you all want to talk about?"

You anxiously placed a hand on your stomach. Both men felt their hearts flutter recognizing your maternal instincts kicking in.

Aizawa let Mic begin, he was the more gentle of the two.

"Well, we figured we got off to a rough start. You got put in a tough situation. We shouldn't have assumed you didn't want a child so we're not mad at how you stormed out. But either way we expect to be in our baby's life. The two of us talked it over and we don't want to fight you if you want to be in their life too. So if you wanna be the mommy we're cool with it."

You could blame your reaction on your hormones for your response but you didn't, "Geez thank you so much for allowing me to be in MY child's life."

Aizawa placed a hand on the back of your neck, giving you a gentle massage. "Okay then, the three of us are gonna have a baby. That means you have to stop ignoring us. We can raise the baby together, without involving anyone else. But if we have to, we can always go the legal route for the baby's best interest." 

He knew it was a low blow, but the couple needed you to stop fighting them. Your eyes snapped to his and you shook your head in protest.

"Okay then we're all the same page," Aizawa reassured you.

Mic cheered, "Now we can focus on the fun stuff."

"Hun," Eraserhead caught his attention. "There's still a few more important things to figure out. We don't want you going back to that doctor. They're incompetent. We scheduled you an appointment with another's clinic for next week. Okay?"

You couldn't find your voice after how easily he threatened to take your baby. So you just nodded. Half listening.

"Good. We also went ahead and programmed our numbers into your phone. We need to be able to check in with you."

"Okay, but I can't use my phone at one of my jobs."

"About that lil momma," Mic started. "You work a lot, which is totally bad ass, but we don't think you leave enough time to rest and take care of yourself."

You tried to protest but Aizawa cut you off, "You also shouldn't be working around so many animals. Even though we love animals, they can be unpredictable and one dog can trigger all the rest into a frenzy."

You were dumbfounded, "I've never heard of anything like that happening. One of my coworkers was pregnant last year, she worked until her maternity leave. Plus I need to be able to pay my bills. And don't offer to compensate me again."

"Why do you have to view it as compensation? We just want to take care of the mother of our child. Just think about it. Mic and I have to go take care of some business but we'll be back later this week."

---

Back at their home Hizashi was dramatically splayed on their bed.

"Babe why are you pouting?" Aizawa asked.

"Why can't we just bring her home already?"

Aizawa sympathized with his better half, but they needed to be methodical. He reminded Hizashi that they didn't need to cause her even more stress, especially so early into the pregnancy. If they played their cards right they would have their happy little family soon enough.

If they could ease you in to the relationship everything would be easier in the long run. They had been managing just fine until now, they could wait a few more months.

He joined Hizashi on the couch. Mic was comforting himself the way he usually did when he felt like this. He was scrolling through the countless photos they had collected since their chance encounter with you over a year ago. 

[swtki]

HP Boys: Surprise Pregnancy Head Cannons

Summary: The HP boys and their reaction to their s/o (afab) being pregnant when its not planned.

A/N: This takes place post Hogwarts so all characters are 18+, though no real smut happens in this so its not an 18+ fic.

WARNINGS: UNPLANNED PREGNANCY, MENTIONS OF PRO CHOICE OPINIONS, MENTIONS OF SEX IN LITE TERMS, SWEARING, FLUFF, MENTIONS OF ALCOHOL, ALSO THIS IS SUPER LONG SORRY LOL

Draco

So everything is going great for the happy couple, you two just moved into a flat together and are working normal jobs, drinking wine like adults.

And sure, Draco knows he wants to marry you, but he knows you’re not ready to settle down like that so he just plans and dreams.

Due to poor choices, when you’re late by two weeks, you know what it probably is.

Draco doesn’t even notice that you ran out to the store and came back and hid in the bathroom for 10 minutes. CEO of minding his own business ig

You just kinda...walk up to him and hand him all 3 tests while your eyes fill with tears because what if he demands you get an abortion?

Or what if he fucks off to god knows where?

But instead he just looks at you with the most un-draco like smile. Like his face was soft and it looked like he could cry any moment.

“Oh my god,” He says, putting his hand on your belly, “I can be ready for this, but if you aren’t then we can you know...”

“No, I want it” then both of you rejoice bc yay baby!

Cut to 6 months later when your feet hurt so bad you have to lay down and watch while Draco fails to put a crib together.

He eventually gets it done tho.

And when the time comes, he’s built and arranged everything for your bundle of joy.

Harry

So you guys are probably already married, but with everything at the ministry going on, it makes Harry less than a family man.

You both agree that it’s probably better to wait so you can be home and yk...raise it.

Well smart man Harry forgets that to not have a kid you need to use protection.

So of course when your period is late you don’t think about it, until its four weeks late.

That night, you and Harry are laying in bed, and thats when you tell him.

“Harry..I’m late.”

“Late for what?” headass.

You: 😳😐

Him: 👁👁😲😲

He’s hesitant to say anything, because he knows its ultimitley up to you what happens with it until its out.

“I think I want to keep it...you know it wont remember much for the first year and a half so if things are stressful it will be okay and-“

“Love...Its going to be perfect”

Mf built the crib in like 45 minutes I swear.

And of course he forced you to keep up with your vitamins, pre natal care, and appointments.

Swear tho you’re about to kill him because cofFeE

But the way he holds your baby 🥺 its his most valued thing ever now.

Ron

Ron is iffy on the kid thing sometimes.

He does want them, but only later when you guys have lived and travled.

So no, you two haven’t planned nor is it even in the picture when your wedding roles around.

It’s in the early days of the marriage when you see his family at the burrow on the way back from the honeymoon.

And of course Molly knows

Because Weasleys are hyperfertile I swear.

She takes you into the kitchen and puts her hands on your arms, shes got that big Mrs.Weasley smile on too.

“I knew it!” She says and pulls you in for a hug, “How far dear??”

You’re just standing there like🧍🏻

“I can see it by the way you glow! Oh my you and my Ron must be so happy!” This woman doesn’t notice that you’re confused.

“Wait what? Mrs. Weasley what are you-?” Then you count the days, “Oh. Well I guess I just found out for myself”

Her face falls slightly, but then she tells you can make you a potion that will tell you if you are or not, stan.

The stupid potion turns green when you spit into it, so everything is confirmed.

That night, you and Ron are getting ready for bed in the guest room and you decide to tell him.

“Ron, sweetie. We need to talk.” He looks like he’s gonna start crying but sits next to you on the bed.

“Y/N...I know its scary but please, we just got married I don’t want to divorce quite just yet 🥺🥺”

“Ron I-“ you start smiling, “I’m pregnant you dufus.”

He just freezes, for a while. Not saying anything, he just looks at the wall with his mouth ajar.

So you get up and go to Ginny.

“Gin, I broke him.”

“Ew, I don’t want to know about how you and him”

“No, I told him that I’m pregnant.”

“Oh, yeah that would do it. Just I don’t know... Give him a minute?”

You give him several, getting a glass of water then heading back up to the room.

Ginny was right, he needed a minute.

“I don’t...I wasn’t...you were.?”

“You don’t have to stay, but I think we can do it. Plus, you would disapoint your mom if you left so...”

“Okay...we’ll do it. I’ll be the best damn Father you have ever seen.” He says, talking to your womb.

Well...he’s a father I’ll give him that.

Pro of having a Weasley baby: free crib thats already put together.

Even if it looks like a death trap.

“We’ll put some blankets over it don’t worry”

You know how some Dads hold their parters hand during the delivery? Yeah he got sick and was moral support from the outside.

To be fair, you weren’t screaming in pleasure by any means.

Scary. But beautiful.

He shows the kid to everyone, he might be more in love with the baby than he is with you.

Ron see’s the appeal of having kids now.

Neville

Moving in with your boyfriend is always fun, right up until you guys go at it so much you forget protection more than once.

You think about it, then move on with your day.

Until the doctor calls, then “oh fuck”

Romance Neville bf

“Why aren’t you having any wine? I thought it was your favorite?”

“I don’t think fetal alcohol syndrome is my favorite.” BRO HE SPAT

But he looks up with tears in his eyes, and runs over to you to grasp you in a hug.

“Oh my god! You’re pregnant! Oh my - We’re gonna be parents!! Oh my god we’re gonna be parents oh-“ Que you petting his hair till he’s calm again.

Lets be honest, this man probably swapped the herbology books for the parenting guides.

“Well I mean I’m just wondering if we should go with this color or this one”

“Nev, it doesn’t matter. Our baby will not care.”

“I read in my book that Infants actually can recognize mood in-“

He won’t let you do anything during your pregnancy.

Gotta love a man who cries because he loves you so much and you’re having his kid.

“I never had a father, what if I do it wrong? What if the baby hates me and runs away at seven?”

“We’ve got quite a lot of time before then.”

He was there during delivery, letting you crush his hand like a champ.

You can’t help but cry when you see him sleeping on the floor next to the crib, its so sweet.

Fred

You two most likely already had two kids, so you decided to wait a bit so your hands weren’t quite full.

Well...your body decided not to wait.

A test provides the two lines, another wild child.

The two toddlers already run around like thing one and thing two, only with red hair.

I think Fred would gladly make the family dinner, and wear an apron. He’d own it, as he should.

But mf gotta not drop the salad bowl when you tell him of the fetus inside you.

“Fred we are going to have a bee-ay-bee-why.”

Your five year old has just begun to spell 😐

He’s happy tho.

Like over the fuckin moon.

He buys the two kids big brother/sister shirts too 🥺🥺

He knows the drill pretty well, so he isn’t too worried about the future.

But its funny that he still freaks out about the crib and feeding chair since he gave it away, you know because you guys werent having another kid.

He packed a hospital bag and kept it in the trunk, counting down the days.

Hours of delivery (He just sat back and held your hand) only to end up with a room full of 7 Weasley family members.

Fred always said that 3 was his lucky number :)

George

You guys were taking it slow, no marriage until you both felt it was time. And certainly no children before that.

Well you know...things changed when the test was positive.

You slid it over on the table, tears pooling in your eyes. He was stunned and quiet, which made you burst out sobbing because you knew that neither of you planned on having a baby.

But to your surprise he starts to smile.

“I want whatever you want, I’m staying by your side no matter what.”

“I mean...would it really be so bad? A house, a kid, a dog?” He holds your hand as you think aloud.

You both give it a week to think it over and the virdict is to keep it.

Thats when he decides he has to marry you, asap because he loves you and will never let you go especially now.

He loves to gush about the carrier of his child, to him you are a godess.

He’s the Dad with a predestination complex.

“Y/N, I just see him being a star quiditch player”

“George, we don’t know if it’s a him.”

He rolls his eyes “Okay then I can see her being a star-“

He made Hermione take you out for a movie date so he could rearrange your bedroom, since you only had a single bedroom flat.

You come back to a new set up including a cot.

Damn pregnancy hormones make brain go 🥺😭😭

He freaks when your water breaks lol

ceo of driving like a maniac to the hospital.

He can’t hold your hand, he’s pacing back and forth, sweating and maybe crying though he’ll never admit to it.

You get the joy of watching him cuddle the baby while refusing to give your child to you.

“George I’d like to hold-“

“No, you need your sleep honey, don’t worry”

Hogging the child.

Cedric

Its no secret that Cedric wants a baby someday.

And he makes it clear your wedding will be spectacular too.

However, finding out you’re pregnant the week of your dream wedding was a shock.

A shock that made you bang your head into the wall because how could you be so stupid?? We had a plan??

So you decide to wait until after the wedding, that way it wont add onto the stress (happy stress) of the wedding.

Cedric keeps trying to fill your glass at the reception, to which you kindly refuse saying you want to remember the night entirely.

Yeah he’s like 🤨 mhm okay.

You can only pick at the dinner because ew salmon doesn’t sound like an option if you want to keep the contents of your stomach.

As everyone waves goodbye to the car, and you both set off into married life, he leans over.

“I may be out of my mind, but are you...?”

“Pregnant.” His face lights up, pulling you into a hug.

Finally, your car pulls up to a small cottage with lush garden scapes all around, putting a hand out, he walks you both from the car to the door.

“Ced, where are we?”

“Home.”

Somehow it was perfect with Cedric, even when it was rushed.

He loved talking to your womb, even if it was weird that he was talking about the babies future brothers and sisters.

“Cedric, slow down. We haven’t even had this one yet”

Basically he is father of the year before he’s a full father.

He’s there while you deliver, holding your hand and telling you how great you’re doing.

He doesn’t even complain when you insult him <3.

He updates you on everything.

If his eyes aren’t on that child, he’s either asleep or dead.

I think Cedric was meant to be a family man, because he loves everything about being one.

Taglist: @truly-insatiable @amourtentiaa @imdoingathingmom @annasdani @anchoeritic @mullthingsoverinthehotwater @cedricsyellowscarf @faeinorbit

[lumosinlove]

PREVIOUSLY ON RELIC KEEL

Dorcas meets up with Marlene at Marlene’s house and Luke is there—we figure out Marlene and Luke are cousins. Luke, as it turns out, has a neglecting mother (as well as a father who has been taken to jail, Marlene’s father doesn’t want her dating Dorcas because she’s from Salazar, and Marlene still hasn’t told Dorcas that she got into college.

Saint goes to wait for Logan at The Carrows in Salazar, where he restocks his Crucio supply.

Lily and James are painting one of the Potter’s old boats together. Lily is confused and frustrated—and in love with James. James, already hurt and trying not to cause himself further harm but also not wanting to lose Lily entirely, lets Lily kiss him but ends it there. They’re both nervous about college.

Instead of Logan, Saint runs into Luke first, who, as a last resort, is going to the Carrows for Crucio. Luke seems to have some surprises up his sleeve—a love for books that Saint shares, perhaps. When Saint does spot Logan, he makes Luke get into his car so as to not alarm him, and steals his dad’s gold watch in the process.

When Saint goes to fetch Logan, they run into Amycus Carrow, who tells Saint that Logan owes them for using their stash of Crucio without paying—but they won’t tell Saint or Logan how much Logan owes.

As a result, Logan gets it into his head that he can pay off his debt if he finds the treasure of The Voldemort, the one that Leo’s dad died looking for. Logan tries to get Saint to help by asking what he wants most, and when that doesn’t work, asking what he hates. Perhaps Saint is one for revenge, rather than need.

Sirius and Dorcas finally get Saint talking about Logan and his time at Saint Clair. Saint reveals that there were harsh punishments for bad behavior in Saint Clair. He also reveals that, for reasons he can only guess at, when kids turn 18, the age at which they could leave the orphanage, they decide to stay. Saint believes Crucio has something to do with it. He has memories of being extremely tired at night, and having vivid dreams—he doesn’t say what these dreams were about. Saint believes that many of the kids, if they arrived young enough, don’t know how to tell the difference between a Crucio-filled mind and a Crucio-free one. The scene ends with them receiving an invitation to a party at James’ house.

Logan finds Leo at his family’s workshop and says he wants to help him find The Voldemort. Leo wants to finish his father’s work, Logan needs the money—Saint shows up, seeming to have found his motivation, too, whatever it may be.

***CW: mentions of taking drugs and being drugged, brief mentions of blood, brief mention of death of a father***

part vi

In his dream, Finn was in a house. There was a woman sitting at the table, a man at the stove, and a boy leaning against the counter. Everything was murky at the edges, even their laughter.

Finn knew what family was. He’d read about it. He’d thought about it. With Logan, he’d felt it.

What he didn’t know, what he could never be sure of, was whether he’d seen it. What it looked like. What his looked like. Every time he thought he did…he’d wake up.

They had begun as pills—vitamins. But pills could be kept on the tongue.

Powder couldn’t be kept from food.

Finn, sweetheart, the woman said in his dream. How was school today? Is Logan still coming over for dinner?

Your boyfriend, the other boy teased, smiling. The man turned from the stove and laughed, reaching over to tussle Finn’s hair.

Yeah, Finn heard himself say. He is.

He looked at the woman—his mother, maybe—and she looked different than she had a moment ago.

We can play pick up, the brother said—but he wasn’t anymore. There was a sister, and now a brother again, now two brothers. And then his mother was at the stove and his father coming in from the yard, and then there was a younger sister sitting on his lap, and then he was the younger brother and his dad was coming home from work, briefcase in hand, closing the front door, giving his mother a kiss—

Finn woke up. His throat was dry and his eyes were, too. He used to wake up crying when he was younger. And Logan had been there, both of them not understanding.

Finn didn’t know if Logan understood now. Finn hadn’t figured it out until after he’d gotten Logan out, not entirely. Not about the Felix. Just about the kids that weren’t leaving. Something was keeping them here, and all he had wanted was to protect Logan and himself from that. Now that he knew that it was Felix that kept them here…Finn couldn’t see why they wanted it so bad. He didn’t want these false glimpses of family. He didn’t want Felix. He wanted Logan. Logan was real. His only comfort was that Logan was free of it. Of this place.

Finn blinked slowly up at the walls of the solitary room. His eyes were heavy. His head, his limbs. He hadn’t eaten anything in almost a week now.

And the dreams still came.

Maybe it wasn’t anything but his own head that was doing the imagining now.

He knew what was real, and this wasn’t it.

~

Luke looked across the deck at his mother in her lounge chair and pinched the Felix, within a small plastic bag within his pocket, to make it sift back and forth. A sound only he could hear. That, and the ice cubes in his mother’s whiskey. The sun was hot on his bare chest, drying the water droplets left from the pool quickly. He couldn’t stop rubbing the place where his father’s watch had been. Just thinking about it, about Saint and his quick fingers, made him snarl.

His mother’s ice cubes rattled.

“I want to start going through your father’s things,” she said airily from beneath her floppy sun hat. “There’s just so much of it. His papers, and all those fat books he has. God, that stupid treasure obsession.”

“It wasn’t stupid,” Luke replied as evenly as he could. “And he’s not dead. He’s coming back.”

His mother laughed. “Oh, sweetheart.”

She had cut her hair very short after Luke’s dad had been taken away. Luke couldn’t get the images out of his mind. Her, walking back through the door the next day, with her long blonde hair cut to her chin, curling just beneath her jaw. She had smiled at him and given her head a shake. Like it, mon lumière?

My light, she called him. When he was little she’d kissed him goodnight with that nickname every day, turning on the small nightlight that he kept—he still kept it. He’d tried not to, but every time, every night, the dark was just too dark. He was almost mad at her for giving it to him in the first place. If he had just gotten used to the dark…maybe he would be more prepared now.

Since his father, she’d been moving about the house like nothing had changed. Or, rather, like something had changed, and she was all the better for it.

His father’s leather chairs were gone from the living room, replaced by two baby blue couches that made Luke sick to look at. The pirate ship wheel was gone from the wall, too.

Luke didn’t know this mother.

Not even the island knew this woman. They knew the bake-sale-bringing, strict-rule-making, no-nonsense-grounding mother that Luke had known his entire life. He’d spent so many nights furious in his room after she’d caught him sneaking out or drinking.

And now, here his mother was, offering him a glass of whiskey at eleven in the morning.

Luke pinched the Felix between his fingers more harshly.

“No, thanks,” he said, and squinted back out towards the ocean.

“If you’re sure,” his mother said. “Well, I just said so because I’m tired of looking at it all.”

“Don’t get rid of it,” Luke said, trying to keep the pleading out of his voice. “I like his office. Mom, it reminds me of him.”

Luke had spent hours in there, laughing with his father, talking about history and literature, sneaking the rare puff on his cigar.

Then, they had taken him away, and his mother had gotten a hair cut, and suddenly Luke didn’t know anything anymore.

“Excuse me,” Luke mumbled, and left his mother in the sun with her drink and the pills that were no doubt already within. She was getting high more than he ever had now.

Luke could barely see anything inside the house after the bright day outside, but he didn’t need to see. He could have found his father’s study, and everything in it, blind.

He was still damp when he sunk down shakily into his father’s desk chair, the plush leather smelling of cigars, and took the bag of pinkish powder out of his pocket.

Just to see him again.

Just for something else to have happened.

Just not this.

~

Remus met Sirius in James’ kitchen again. The large glass doors were flung wide, opening out onto the porch and the pool beyond where a projector and screen were set up, along with chairs and blankets. Lily had set out the floating lanterns that the Potters put in the pool during their dinner parties and they floated idly back and forth in the evening breeze, giving out a soft yellow glow to mix with the dusky blue that came in from the ocean. The palm trees leaned over the house’s surrounding gate, swaying.

The counter between Remus and Sirius was covered in food. Pizza and nachos from Thomas’ family’s restaurant, chocolate chip cookies, chips and salsa, sodas and liquor.

“If you’re gonna do it, do it in the house,” Mrs. Potter always said.

Sirius looked the same, but fresh out of the ocean. His dark hair was damp, dripping onto the collar of his faded t-shirt. He looked like the ocean had the same effect on him as it did on Remus. Sirius’ eyes looked brighter. His shoulders looked more relaxed. He looked up from where he was pouring some whiskey into a cup and even managed an easier smile than usual.

“Hey,” Remus said, taking a paper plate from the stack. “How’s it going?”

Sirius’ eyes found his, then he looked down, stoppering the bottle. “Pretty good, you?”

“Pretty good,” Remus said, and then took a breath before testing the waters. “Had a nice sail this morning, clocked a shift at the museum, can’t complain.”

Sirius glanced up quickly, and Remus suppressed a smile as he loaded his plate.

“Oh,” Sirius began. “I mean, yeah, I saw.”

“You like sailing?”

Sirius nodded. “Kris lets me take one of his out sometimes.”

“Kris?” Remus questioned.

“Oh,” Sirius cleared his throat. Remus watched some of those ocean washed walls begin to go back up. “Yeah, he runs the boat rental shop over in Rowena. I guess you wouldn’t know given that you have…you know.”

Remus tried to side-step the awkward shift. Sirius seemed to have ideas about him already. Remus wished he had some clue about Sirius, beside his ocean-eyes and guarded expression.

“Well, that’s cool of him,” Remus said.

Sirius nodding from over the brim of his cup. “Yeah, it is.”

“Hey, well—” Remus shrugged. “I mean, I’m sure you do it on your own all the time but…you know if you ever wanted to…”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. Remus hadn’t finished his sentence.

“I mean, if you ever wanted to,” Remus began again, and was suddenly nervous. Sirius didn’t even like him. It looked as though he didn’t like Gods in general. He’d probably think this was charity. He’d probably hate Remus for offering. “Go out.”

Sirius’ eyebrow raised further.

“On my boat,” Remus said, all in a rush. His cheeks were hot. “Go sailing on—my boat.”

Remus didn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t for Sirius to do nothing at all. He stood there, frozen and off guard.

“Only if you want,” Remus said hopelessly. “I get up pretty early.”

“So do I,” Sirius said, and there was the slap of flip flops from behind Remus.

“Look who I found at the kid’s table,” Saint’s voice came, and he leaned on the counter beside Remus in his tank-top and shorts, taking a nacho off of his plate. “Hello, Remus Lupin. You’re looking flushed. Sirius, are you making him blush?”

“Um,” Sirius said.

Remus just shook his head and reached for a soda. He felt idiotic, and now more so, after being interrupted. He could hear the others talking and laughing over the movie and wished he was over there—wished he hadn’t tried to hit on Sirius Black, of all people. He didn’t know if Sirius liked men. He didn't even know Sirius.

“Re, Saint, Black, someone bring me back a drink!” Marlene’s voice came over the chatter. She was tangled with Dorcas on one of the blankets, leaning back into her chest.

“Why do you look like you’ve done something?” Sirius said, drawing Remus’ eyes back to him.

“Well, I haven’t yet,” Saint replied. “But just watch.” He leaned closer to Remus. “Fruit-Loop, I need you to get me into that museum of yours.”

Remus looked at him warily. “How do you know I work at the museum…”

“A friend,” Saint said.

Remus looked at the hand Saint was resting his chin on. He was fairly sure that was Luke’s father’s watch.

“Get you in?” he asked. “Why not just go?”

Saint looked at him like he was entirely put upon, like he couldn’t believe Remus hadn’t caught on yet. “Because I don’t think what I’m looking for is on the floor, as they say.”

“Saint,” Sirius said incredulously. “What…what?”

“Can you help?” Saint looked at Remus. “You know, I could just take it.”

“Let you take something from the museum?” Remus laughed. “No.”

“Fine,” Saint sighed and pushed up from the counter, taking Remus’ plate from him and beginning to walk away. “I was just giving you the option to make this a little easier.”

Remus stared after him, then looked at Sirius, who shook his head before Remus could even ask.

“No idea,” Sirius said.

~

Saint didn’t actually know that many movies.

The movie theater was fine, but old. Grimmauld didn’t have a TV. It definitely didn’t have a large projector screen and James’ laptop. There was dancing on the screen. The actors were some place warm. He didn’t recognize it.

Books, on the other hand. Books, he knew.

He spied Luke resting on his forearms, long legs stretched in front of him on a blanket near that back of their group, and smiled.

“Deveaux,” Saint said as he sat down, placing the plate between them. “Pleasure to see you again.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “Oh Jesus, who invited you.”

“The peace keeper named James Potter,” Saint replied. “Not sure what sort of peace he thinks there is to keep. I, for one, think he’s made it all up in his head.”

Luke grabbed Saint’s wrist, the gold of his watch beneath his rough palm.

“This is mine,” Luke said. “You little thief.”

“Is it?”

“Saint,” Luke’s eyes were dark in the dying light and flickering screen. “Give it back to me.”

“What will you give me?” Saint asked, and leaned in.

Luke snarled and let go. “I’m not bargaining for my watch. You stole it.”

“I steal a lot of things. Your mother has good taste, by the way. So does Mrs. Potter. Unlike some of these God mothers. Do you think they know their husbands buy them the fake stuff, and save the goods for their mistresses?”

“Fuck off.”

Saint broke part of a cookie off. “Those are your two favorite words.”

Luke just shook his head, his jaw tight and angry, eyes remaining on the screen. Saint chewed slowly.

“What’s this?” Saint asked, jerking his chin towards the screen.

He felt Luke look at him. “You don’t know?”

“I just asked, didn’t I?”

“What?” Luke scoffed. “It’s Mamma Mia. You’ve never seen this movie? Where the fuck have you been?”

Saint looked at him steadily.

“Right,” Luke nodded. “Fucked childhood, and all that.”

“That’s one way to look at it, thank you, tweedle.”

“What else haven’t you seen?”

Saint flicked the hand with the watch on it. “How the fuck should I know?”

Luke’s eyes followed the gold for a moment, and then he looked back out towards the others. Saint did, too, laughing softly. He could practically feel Luke trying to decide how to get the watch from his wrist.

“Irish wrist watch,” Saint whispered. “Irish wrist watch, Irish wrist watch…”

James was sitting with Lily. Marlene and Dorcas were to the side, dancing along to the music with Thomas. Sirius and Remus had followed him out of the house and were, to Saint’s surprise, sitting awkwardly beside each other. Sirius seemed to be asking about the movie, too, and Remus explaining it to him.

Fucking Gods, Saint thought as he looked around at the glowing pool, the mountain of food in the kitchen. Fucking Gods and all their careless lives.

He wondered if maybe he should have brought Leo along, if his sob story about his dad might have gotten Remus to help.

Remus works at the museum, Leo had said. Me and Logan heard him say, him and Layla—her family owns it. If there’s any chance of seeing another copy of that map, it’s the History Museum.

“I’ve never seen you be quiet for this long,” Luke’s voice interrupted.

“You’re the one who ruined it.”

Luke reached between them for the plate and plucked up the other half of Saint’s cookie. “I was just saying.”

“I’ve never seen you not glower for this long—oh, there it is.”

“Give me my watch back.”

“For what?”

Luke paused, then said, “Books.”

That made Saint look at him. Luke’s eyes were on Saint’s wrist, but Saint remembered him in the car, reading James’ copy of Shelley. Saint felt stormy again, a familiar building in his chest that always simmered.

“Excuse me?”

“Give me my watch and I’ll give you—”

“So, you are bargaining.”

“You seem to like hand-outs,” Luke bit back. “You take books from James, don’t you? Not to mention this,” Luke shifted towards Saint. “You take a lot of things from people you claim to hate.”

“Ouch,” Saint said, and it really had hurt. Waste of space. He smiled.

“I can do you better,” Luke said. “Tell me what you want.”

“You mean your daddy could?”

Luke’s expression went cold all over. Lightning, over the strike of green in his right eye, nestled among the deep brown. “What’s his is mine now.”

Saint wondered if Luke had Crucio in his system right now. He didn’t have the tired look of it. Come to think of it, Luke never had that look, not like Logan did. He must take it at night, Saint thought. To sleep, maybe. Some people used it like that. Some people thought it let them control their dreams.

Saint didn’t think anyone could control their dreams, their wants and wishes—waking or asleep. Even if they wanted to.

“Was this his, too?” Saint looked at the watch face.

“God, just—” Luke broke off, shoulders tense, and rubbed his eyes. “What the fuck do you want? Money? Just tell me and give it back.”

Saint checked the time, then looked back at Luke.

“One-thirty. My bedtime. And I don’t need shit from you,” Saint said breezily, and patted Luke’s thigh before pushing himself up from the blanket.

“Saint,” he heard Sirius say faintly, but nothing from Luke, and he kept walking through the Potter’s house.

~

Sirius was almost angry at Saint. Or, maybe, he was angry at himself for wanting to stay at the Potters. He knew why he had been invited, why James had wrapped an arm around him, told him to help himself to the food, why Remus had talked to him, sat beside him, offered…well, he wasn’t sure what Remus had offered.

Pity.

At least, he thought he knew.

Though talking to Remus had felt far from pity. Remus laughed with his eyes squeezed shut, and it had taken Sirius off guard each and every time. He was angry at Remus Lupin. He was angry at him for his words when they were eleven.

Are you okay? Sirius, right?

As if he didn’t know Sirius’ name, and of course Sirius wasn’t okay.

But now Remus Lupin was talking about his boat, and this movie, whatever it was, that Sirius had never seen, and smiling at him as though he’d done nothing wrong.

Or, at least he had been, before Sirius had followed a blank-faced Saint out of the house.

“What are you doing?” Sirius asked Saint’s retreating back as they jogged down the steps to the driveway.

Saint had merely held up something that jingled over his shoulder. The car keys glinted as much as the watch on his wrist which Sirius knew wasn’t his own.

“Taking Luke’s car.”

“Saint, come on,” Sirius sighed. “I mean—that looked pretty fucking civil. Non?”

Saint turned on him. “Oh, yes, and you could hear every word? Non.” Saint kicked one of the tires. “Fuck the Gods, and fuck their shiny cars, too.”

Sirius shook his head. “What’s this—museum stuff? What’s going on? Saint, just talk to me—”

“You took Lupin’s side,” Saint breezed as he chirped Luke’s car. “You don’t get to know.”

That stopped Sirius in his tracks. He took a step back. “Since when do we do that?”

Saint slammed the door, sitting in the driver seat.

“Not tell each other things?” Sirius pushed forward. “Since when?”

Sirius watched him through the rolled down window as he ran his hands over the dark leather of the seats, the shiny black of the dash.

“There’s a lot you don’t know,” Saint said softly. “There’s a lot I don’t know.”

“What do you want from the museum?” Sirius tried again. “Is this about…Saint Clair? Logan? Ever since he showed up—”

“Orphan!” came from the house just moments before the front door blew open. Luke zeroed in on Saint behind the wheel instantly, sandy hair casting shadows over his forehead and eyes. “What the fuck is up with you and taking my shit?”

“See you at home, sweetheart,” Saint said to Sirius, and started the car. Luke brushed past Sirius and tugged fruitlessly on the locked door.

“Hey,” Luke only just managed to bang on the back window as Saint screeched out of the Potter’s drive. “Saint!”

Sirius watched as Luke stood there in the humid night, watching his own taillights disappear. He cursed again, running a hand through his hair, and then turned.

Luke looked at Sirius. They stayed a few feet apart in the driveway.

“Do you know where he’s going?” Luke asked, breathing heavily.

Sirius did not like Luke Deveaux.

“No,” he said, and turned back into the house to find Remus.

~

Leo looked over at Logan. They were sitting on the curb outside The Lion, waiting for word from Saint, and Logan was quiet. Not that Logan wasn’t usually quiet, but this felt different. He was picking at an old scab on his knee, taking his hat off and putting it back on again.

“Are you okay?” Leo asked, and Logan didn’t look up when he nodded.

“Is it,” Leo hesitated. “Finn?”

That snapped Logan’s head up. “How did you…”

“You said his name to me,” Leo said softly. “The first night we met. You were…” but Leo didn’t really know the word. High? Hallucinating?

“I know what I was,” Logan sighed.

“Do you want to talk about him?” Leo asked. “I mean, you don’t have to I just…I know it helps to talk about my dad sometimes.”

“Finn isn’t dead,” Logan said harshly. He took his hat off, pushing his hair back, and put it back on again.

“I know,” Leo said. “I know, I just meant—never mind.”

Leo, in a way that Logan would probably hate him for, was dying to know more about Saint Clair. Saint had been around long enough that Leo sometimes lost track of the fact that he’d escaped. Others were around the island, doing work and looking normal enough that Leo could forget about them, too.

But he couldn’t forget Logan. Logan, who was tortured and rough and missing someone in a way that Leo could feel, that Leo could recognize.

Beautiful, with his green eyes and rare smiles, that Leo knew he should steer well away from. Because Finn. Finn sounded like—

“He’s my—” Logan began, then shook his head. “I don’t know what to say. Boyfriend sounds—small.” Logan shifted, looking at Leo. “He’s all I have. He’s all I’ve had for a long time. Since I can remember. My entire life.” Logan ran a hand over his face, and when it came away, he looked exhausted. “I’m just repeating myself, but do you get it?”

“Yes,” Leo said. “I get it.”

“And now he’s—and I’m out here, and…”

“And you want to get him out, too,” Leo finished for him. Logan looked stricken.

“He got me out,” he said softly. “When it came down to it, he chose me. But I didn’t have time to choose him. It was all over so fast.”

Leo rubbed the colorful bracelet on his wrist. Boyfriend. “And when you say you’re looking for him…Waiting for him…”

“I know where he is,” Logan said. “And the waiting part was a lie. I’d be stupid to wait. I need to get him. He—“ Logan swallowed. “There’s a courtyard. Where I can usually see him. But he hasn’t been there.”

Leo watched Logan’s throat bob again. He was picking at his nail beds, at the scab. Leo lay his palm over his restless fingers, and Logan looked up, eyes bright.

“He needs my help.”

“Okay,” Leo nodded. “Okay.”

“Lovers on the wharf,” came a voice, accompanied by thumping music. Saint pulled up in a sleek looking car—that definitely wasn’t his own. He leaned out the window, grinning. “Deveaux has terrible taste in music.”

“You stole this car,” Leo said dryly. “Didn’t you.”

“Yes I did, Knut. Yes, I did.”

“Let's go,” Logan said. He sniffed and picked up his backpack.

“Who’s got shot gun?” Saint asked.

~

Remus stopped in front of the gallery heading that read Madness On Hogwarts.

He hadn’t asked his mother about it yet. He wasn’t even sure how to ask. But, there it was. The name Lupin was there. He didn’t have to look far. It was there, telling about the slow demise of the mind.

Part of Remus had always wondered when his own would begin.

Another part of him felt like it already had.

He was, after all, standing beside Sirius Black on the dark museum floor, looking for a rogue orphan from Saint Clair.

“It seems pretty quiet, to me,” Remus said. “You really think he came here tonight?”

“He stole Luke’s car, didn’t he?”

Remus snorted. “Yeah, but…”

“So, that’s very get-away-ish of him. I mean he blamed it on hating Gods but—“

Sirius cut off, swallowing, realizing what he said.

“It’s okay,” Remus said and smiled a little. “I…it’s okay.”

Sirius cleared his throat. “It’s just that ours doesn’t always start up.”

Remus’ tried to ease the tension. “Get-away-ish?”

Sirius just shrugged and ducked his head, but Remus thought he was maybe smiling, too.

“Why didn’t you tell James where we were going?” Sirius asked instead, shining his flashlight over a model of a great merchant ship, its sails molded to seem like they were filled with wind. Remus could practically feel it.

It was Remus’ turn to duck as they walked around the exhibits, listening. “James Potter and sneaking anywhere? I don’t know about that.”

Sirius did laugh this time, and he looked almost surprised with it. “I guess you’re right.”

“Besides, he and Lily looked cozy.”

Sirius nodded. “Yeah, that’s been almost happening ever since I can remember.”

“Right,” Remus laughed. For a moment it felt like they did know each other. As though they had been going to school together since they were little. As though Sirius hadn’t left school one day and never returned.

“Can I…ask you something?” Remus said hesitantly.

Sirius made a non-committal sound, and Remus figured that was as good as he was going to get.

“When you left school,” Remus began, then hesitated. “Well, I guess I mean, how? Didn’t your parents…or the police, even…”

“My parents don’t want a son like me,” Sirius replied easily. “As far as the law goes…I’ve never been bothered. I assumed they told the Academy I was being homeschooled. When I say someone like me, I guess I mean they don't want anything to ruin their reputation.” Sirius sighed. “Whatever that may be. Otherwise, I don’t know.”

“But you weren’t homeschooled,” Remus said. “You’re in The Hollow?”

Sirius’ smile was a little challenging. “Surfing every morning. Hanging out with my friends every night. I get work where I can, but I don’t need much.”

Remus nodded. “I guess that doesn’t sound too bad. I guess you’re not going to college, then.”

“That stuff isn’t for everyone,” Sirius replied.

“Oh,” Remus began. “No, I wasn’t, like, judging, I was just—”

That was when they heard a thump and a curse. They jolted, looking at each other.

“The archives,” Remus whispered.

“He did say it wasn’t on the floor.”

Remus took off towards the back rooms, Sirius on his heels. He fumbled with his keys for a moment, then shoved the correct one into the lock and pushed the door open.

“Saint,” Sirius panted.

Remus looked from the pried open window, to the boy peaking his head through the glass—Logan, he remembered—and then, finally, to Saint, crouched on the floor and pulling flat drawers open, one after another.

Saint just looked over his shoulder at them, flashlight between his teeth, then back to the file drawer he was rummaging through.

“If you were hoping to catch me, maybe don’t leave your big flashy car out front, Lupin.”

Remus narrowed his eyes. He hadn’t even thought of the car.

“Look, I can’t let you steal something,” Remus said.

Saint scoffed. “Look, if it means that much to you, I’ll put it right back, we just need to look at it.”

Logan dropped in through the window, then, hissing as he cut his forearm on what looked like a stray nail. He looked up, seemingly mindless of the blood dripping near his fingers.

“We’ll just take a picture,” Logan said. “I promise.”

“Who says I’ll let you?” Remus said.

“Because I’m limber like that,” Saint said. “I can get in and out of here, and I can certainly slip through your sailor hands.”

“Yeah, is that something you worry about?” Sirius said, and Saint’s head snapped towards him. The light fell over Sirius’ face. “Being able to make the escape?”

Remus thought the words sounded menacing, at least he thought Saint thought that, but Sirius’ expression was softer. Worried, even.

“Very funny,” Saint finally replied, and his smile had a bite to it around the light. “Ha, ha.”

Saint Clair, Remus realized. Sirius was talking about Saint Clair. He looked at Logan again. Logan was watching Saint almost eagerly.

“What are you even looking for?” Remus asked.

There was a grunt as a third boy piled in—Leo, from The Lion.

“Leo?” Sirius said, looking between the three of them. “Jesus, Saint, what’s going on?”

“We’re looking for something,” Saint’s words were marred by the metal between his teeth. “Merde, aren’t you listening?”

“I told you no,” Remus said.

Saint pulled open another drawer. “And I told me yes.”

Remus and Sirius looked at each other. Remus shook his head, at a loss, and Sirius sighed.

“At least tell us what it is,” Sirius said, and went to crouch beside Saint.

Remus watched as Sirius put a hand on his back, low and firm. It was a familiar and comfortable gesture, and Remus thought Saint maybe pushed into it a little.

Remus tilted his head, looking at the soft splay of Sirius’ fingers.

“A map,” Leo said, and Saint all but hissed at him. “What? We’re not taking anything. I don’t even know why we broke in, really, we should have just asked—”

Saint took the light from his mouth. “I’m nothing if not a showboat.”

“Anything?” Logan asked, peering closer to what Saint was looking at. Saint had two papers in his hands, but he tossed them down roughly—too roughly for Remus’ liking.

Saint ignored Logan with a long sigh, and turned to Remus, bumping one of the flat drawers closed with a hip. “We are in need of a treasure map, Lupin.”

Remus blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t tell me the mad-house you grew up in didn’t have tales of The Voldemort.”

Remus felt his blood spike, heat draping itself around his neck. “Don’t fucking—”

“What Saint means,” Leo stepped forward, eyes apologetic. “I…my dad was looking for it. He was close and…and he’s—Saint and Logan agreed to help me find it. I didn’t know we’d be doing this. They know how much it means to me—”

“If your dad’s close to finding it, why not just use his map?” Remus asked.

Leo glanced up at him, then down at the drawers. “It went down with him and his boat.”

“Oh,” Remus stuttered out. “I…”

Leo just shook his head. “I remember what it looks like. I’ll know it when I see it.”

Saint waved his hand, and Remus noticed Luke’s watch again. “What’s it going to say, Knut, the ancient treasure lies here?”

“It’s not to The Voldemort,” Leo said. “It’s to a trading post, a stop point just off of Hogwarts. In the Cradle. People thought that it might have been a sort of cover operation, that maybe someone found the gold and was using it as a way to smuggle it out unnoticed—”

“So, it’s not even there?” Logan asked.

Leo splayed his hands helplessly. “I don’t know!”

Remus looked at Sirius when he laughed. “You’re kidding.” Sirius knocked Saint’s shoulder. “You’re looking for the fucking Voldemort? Since when?”

“You’re the one who wants to leave this island,” Saint said lowly. “To do that you’ll need money.”

Sirius’ expression changed in the dim light. The moon was high now, and he looked silver and shadowed—and surprised.

“What?” Sirius said faintly. Saint wouldn’t meet his eye. “But you don’t want—”

Logan stepped forward, eyes still on Remus. “Look. We’re not crazy. Leo wants this for his dad, and I—I need to help someone. I told you when we met, didn’t I?”

“You said you were looking for someone,” Remus replied.

Logan nodded quickly.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Saint said and rose, turning to Logan and pointing the light towards his chest like an accusing finger. “Hold every single one of your horses. This is not about Saint Clair, and this is not about Finn. This is about your stupidity and The Carrows.”

“No,” Logan said. “This is about getting Finn out.”

“The Carrows,” Leo repeated, looking at Logan. Logan glanced at him, then rubbed a hand over his face.

“Then help me with Finn,” Logan said, louder this time. “I made a mistake with The Carrows, fine, but are you going to be my next one?”

“No,” Saint all but snarled back.

Logan shoved him, hard, sending Saint crashing back against the files, making them rattle.

“Hey,” Sirius said lowly, and then he had a hand wrapped up in Logan’s shirt, pushing him back.

“Stop,” Remus said, putting his hands out. “Jesus, not here. Maybe you all don’t give a shit, but everything in here is old. It’s precious.” He turned to Leo. “A map, you said a map, just tell me so we can all leave.”

Leo bit his lip, gesturing towards the drawers. “These are labeled?”

Remus nodded and watched them all warily as Leo took the light from Logan and crouched to read the writing on the drawers.

Saint and Logan were still staring at each other. Remus could practically feel some unsaid words between them. Sirius had let Logan go, but Remus didn’t want to keep the three of them in this room together for much longer.

“Here,” Leo said suddenly, and the sound of one of the rattling drawers filled the room. “It’s—oh.”

“What?” Logan asked, shoving around Sirius’ body towards the drawer. Remus followed, glancing back once. Saint and Sirius had their heads close. Sirius had his hand on Saint’s neck, and they were talking softly but quickly to each other.

Remus looked away.

The label read, Cartography. C. 18th. Commerce Port, but in place of anything that the label suggested, was an index card with neat handwriting on it.

On loan: Victor Deveaux

“Deveaux,” Saint said, clucking his tongue. “Deveaux, Deveaux, Deveaux…”

“No,” Remus heard Leo breathe.

“That’s Luke’s dad,” Remus said. He stared at the name. “Oh. That’s…”

“What?” Logan asked. “What do you know?”

Remus shot him a look. He seemed even more on edge than a few moments ago.

“I’d sort of forgotten with everything. Everything that happened to Luke this past year, but,” Remus said. “Luke was always sort of obsessed with the treasure. Only because his dad was, though. When we got older, me and James sort of made fun of him for it, but when we were younger, Mr. Deveaux used to hide little trinkets or candy for us somewhere in the house, and then write out clues for us to work through.” Remus smiled at the memory. It was happy, and it was sad. It seemed like too long ago. “It was fun.”

“So, he has the map,” Logan said. “Can you take us there?”

“Can you relax, speed racer, thanks,” Saint snapped.

“We need the map,” Logan barked back.

“It’s almost three in the morning,” Remus said.

“All the better,” Saint replied and closed the window they had come through before opening the museum door.

“Can’t this wait until morning?”

“Luke won’t just hand it over,” Sirius offered.

Remus turned to him. “What do you care?”

“Saint cares.”

Remus blinked. Sirius was all walled up again, eyes silver.

“Lead the way, Sailor,” Saint said.

~

Luke’s house was large and pristine, but it looked abandoned somehow. Saint stared up at the white walls, the stone chimney that he couldn’t imagine ever got used. He wondered if it was as grand as the Potters’ house inside. It certainly looked that way, manicured and vast. But it lacked the warmth. It seemed to shift in the night wind.

“We can’t just knock,” Remus broke the silence.

“We should wait,” Leo said somewhat nervously.

“I’ve got this,” Saint replied, chin tilted up towards the large house’s windows. “Which one’s his?”

Remus laughed. “You’re not serious.”

“No, that’d be him,” Saint said, clapping Sirius on the back—who rolled his eyes. “Now, tell me.”

“What are you going to do, climb up the drain pipe?”

Saint shucked his flip flops into the grass. “Yes, sir.”

“You could fall,” Sirius warned.

Saint looked at the windows, set deep into the house’s frame. The rough painted sides and stray vine climbing the surface. He looked at the tilted roof. “I won’t. Now which room is his?”

Remus, behind Saint, was quiet for a long time. Saint kept his eyes forward, squeezing his hands into fists, and then letting them out again. His heart beat hard in his chest, as if remembering a memory his mind wouldn’t.

“He keeps a light on,” Remus finally sighed, and pointed. “That window there.”

The metal and stone were cold beneath Saint’s feet. The pipe was sturdy, but every time it creaked he could hear the others whisper from below. The higher Saint climbed, the more the wind picked up. He closed his eyes letting it push his hair off of his forehead. The summer night was humid, and the moon was high.

“Saint?” he heard Sirius whisper from below.

Saint didn’t respond, just kept climbing. That was how climbing worked. Maybe, if you were lucky, you could rest, but the real part was pushing through the aches and the fear.

What do you hate so much that you’re helping us? Logan had asked him in the car on their way to the museum, and Saint had said something silly, as he always did. He’d smiled. Logan hadn’t laughed, but anyone else would have.

Saint thought of Sirius’ hand, low on his back in the archives rooms.

But you don’t want to go, Sirius had been about to say when Saint told him why they needed the gold. But you don’t want to leave.

If they had been alone, Saint might have actually told him the truth.

But you do, he would have said. If there was anything that wouldn’t be wasteful, it was getting Sirius Black off of this island and away from his own, terrified self. Saint might be a waste, but Sirius wasn’t.

Saint reached the roof and crouched, breathing hard. He could see the light from Luke’s room below him, the slates of the slight, pointed arch above the window frame. It was a short drop. He made it soundlessly, glancing down at the dark shape of the others as he swung himself onto the wooden sill. He could see the source of the light now.

It was a small bulb, plugged in low on the wall by the bed. Simple and cheap, with some sort of picture lit up. A sea shell, Saint thought. It didn’t illuminate much, but Saint could see Luke’s face. He was turned towards the window, on his stomach with an arm beginning to fall over the side of the mattress. He was bare to his waist, where the sheets pooled along his lower back.

Saint pushed at the top of the window until it cracked enough for him to curl his fingers beneath the frame. Luke didn’t stir, not even when Saint let the humid night air meet the AC, and set his bare feet softly on the hardwood floor.

Saint still didn’t know if Luke was a snoop, but he certainly knew that he was.

The floor was stacked with books. They were shoved over to the sides of the walls, near the desk beside a tangle of laptop chords and phone chargers. The bedside table was littered with old water glasses and coffee mugs, clothes occupied more of the floor than the open closet. There were small, empty plastic bags littered throughout the room. Saint picked up one, looking at the few grains of remnants.

He let it flutter back to the floor.

Everyone needed to control something, or at least think they did. Saint, for one too many times since Logan arrived, let himself think about Saint Clair. They’d taken clarity from him. He didn’t know how The Voldemort would get him that back—maybe nothing would. It would certainly take Sirius away, the only constant.

But everyone needed to control something. Or at least think they did. If Saint was going to be alone, he wouldn’t let it sneak up on him. Not again.

Saint was as good at tricking himself as he was at tricking others. And he liked gold. Part of him liked Luke, too. Stubborn. Mean. Beautiful. That would never change.

Saint looked down at Luke’s sleeping form. He looked younger in his sleep. He was dreaming. Saint could tell, there was a flicker beneath his eyelids. The bruise on his cheek was slowly fading, but a faint purple still graced his cheek.

“Tricky bastard,” Saint said aloud, and Luke stirred, cracking an eye open.

There it was. The sleepy look of Crucio, the haze. The lack of will, or maybe the abundance of it.

“You,” Luke mumbled. “You’re…”

His eyes flickered over Saint’s shoulder. Saint wondered who he was seeing. Saint crouched beside him and stroked a hand through his hair. Luke leaned into it. A loved one, then.

Luke blinked at him, and his expression shifted. He scrambled backwards, cursing.

“Saint,” Luke said, blinking. Saint laughed. He sort of liked that Luke couldn’t tell if he was really there or not.

“Hello, tweedle,” Saint said, and held up Luke’s father’s watch. “I need something from you.”

[cuddlepilefics]

Lemon Tea

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Jisung

Caregiver: Minho

Prompt: 'Vitamin C' @sicktember

No one's POV.:

When Jisung came home late in the evening after a few grueling hours of vocal training, his throat was on fire. He had certainly taken it a bit too far and really should've stopped at least an hour ago. Dinner was already on the table and his members had only been waiting for him to come home. He greeted them quietly waving and smiled when Chan put a plate in front of him. The others weren't really surprised that he remained silent during their meal. They knew what he had been working on and had already expected him to rest his voice as much as possible afterwards. "How did it go?", Minho asked, when they cleared the table. Jisung smiled and gave his hyung a thumbs up, grabbing the first plate. The two were in charge of doing the dishes that evening, so Minho got a tea towel and took the clean dish from the younger to dry it off. Clearing his throat, Jisung hummed: "Tell me 'bout your day, hyung. I can't really speak but I'd like to hear your voice." That made the dancer smile and he started to talk about the choreography he was working on with Hyunjin and Felix. They had had lots of fun, despite their practice being exhausting, which made Jisung happy. He loved the way his hyung's eyes sparkled when he talked about dancing or his cats. The older always resembled a child at Christmas when talking about those topics and Jisung found it adorable.

They finished the dishes and Jisung went to take a shower, already starting to feel sleepy. He'd probably go to bed soon after washing up, despite it not being late at all yet. With how sleepy he was, his shower turned out a lot longer than he had originally planned. The warm water washing away the tension of the day, the rapper relaxed and closed his eyes. He was lucky, the others had already showered either in the morning or immediately after their dance practice, so there was nobody waiting for him to finish. Jisung took his time and got ready for bed after. Chan was a bit confused that the younger completely disappeared after dinner, as Jisung wasn't usually one to go to bed early. Deciding to check on his dongsaeng, the leader made his way to the rapper's room and was surprised to find him already in his bed. Although the lights were off already, Jisung still had his headphones on and startled when the mattress dipped on one side. Blinking, he removed his headphones and looked at Chan questioningly. "Sorry for scaring you, I just wanted to see how you're doing. It isn't usually like you to go to bed early", the Aussie hummed. Jisung gave a small smile and whispered: "Is fine. I'm doing alright, today was just exhausting and I feel like I have no energy at all. Probably won't even sleep anytime soon, just, y'know listen to music for a while." – "Alright, rest well. Want me to get you some water for your throat?", Chan offered, getting up. Though the rapper declined, he still returned to his room a few minutes later and placed a water bottle on Jisung's nightstand before going to his own room to work on some music.

Jisung woke up about an hour before his alarm. He felt a lot worse than he had the previous evening and wasn't so sure he had only strained his voice. Sure, his throat still hurt but so did his head. Although he had fallen asleep exceptionally early, he still felt drained, like the hours of sleep hadn't refilled his energy in the slightest. Knowing he had some time to spare, Jisung padded into the kitchen and made himself some tea. He got comfortable on the couch, scrolling through social media while sipping his tea. The rapper was slowly falling back to sleep on the couch when the first few members woke up from their alarms. First were Minho and Seungmin, who wanted to start making breakfast but stopped in their tracks when they noticed Jisung. After nodding at Seungmin to start already, Minho went over to the couch and sat down beside his dongsaeng. The rapper's eyes fluttered open and looked at Minho confused. The last time he checked, he had been alone. Where had his hyung come from all of a sudden? "Good morning. What are you doing up already?", the dancer asked quietly, smiling at his confused dongsaeng. Jisung scrubbed at his face and gave a soft cough before replying huskily: "Woke up early. Ugh, I can't talk, my voice is shot." – "Yeah, you really seem to have overdone it yesterday but I see you already made yourself some tea", Minho clicked his tongue, knowing they were supposed to record something today, which he certainly wouldn't with how bad he sounded right now.

"Hyung, does my forehead feel hot?", Jisung asked out of nowhere just as Minho was about to join Seungmin in the kitchen. Brushing his bangs back, the dancer rested his palm on Jisung's forehead and frowned: "You do feel a little warm to me. Do you think you're sick?" – "Dunno, my head hurts an' I'm so tired although I went to bed early", the rapper shrugged, sitting up. For a moment, he felt lightheaded and had to take a few deep breaths before he felt ready to get up. Minho watched him with worry as they walked to the kitchen to make breakfast. "Sung, if you think you might be coming down with something, this is probably not a good idea", Minho whispered, aware of how quick illnesses spread with so many people living in such close vicinity. Defeated, Jisung nodded. He knew the older was right and he was truly suspecting, there was something more going on than just him straining himself. The rapper went to his room to get ready, passing the other members, who went to eat breakfast. Jisung himself wasn't hungry, so he decided to just sit on his bed after getting dressed and wait for the rest of the group to finish. At some point, he must have gone to sleep again.

When all members except for Jisung sat at the breakfast table. Minho handed each one of them a large glass of orange juice. Earning a few odd looks, he sighed: "Jisung's coming down with a cold, so we're all loading up on vitamin c. It should boost our immune system, so we won't catch it." – "Sung's sick? We were all going to record today", Chan frowned, glancing in the direction of their bedrooms. "Not sure if he's sick enough to stay back at the dorm but he's certainly in no shape to record anything. That boy barely has any voice left", Minho explained. Already mentally rescheduling their recordings, Chan nodded, cracking a smile when Seungmin gave his glass a distasteful frown. "Hyung, you're being ridiculous. I don't know how much actual orange is in this and it probably won't do much except for attack our teeth", the vocalist cringed. The look he received from Minho was enough to convince the rest of the group to just drink it, as the dancer threatened: "Yah! Listen to hyung or die of his plague, I couldn't care less."

When they were done with breakfast, Chan went to Jisung's room to check on the sick rapper, finding him knocked out on his bed. He seemed ready to head out but had fallen asleep after getting ready. Hesitant to wake his dongsaeng, Chan brushed the backs of his fingers against his forehead and found his skin unnaturally warm to the touch. Jisung wouldn't be able to record his parts anyway, so why drag him out? Searching for Minho, Chan joined the dancer in his room and explained: "You were right, Sung seems to be running a temperature and if he can't record, I don't see why we should take him with us. He's asleep and would probably benefit more from just staying here and resting. You're only scheduled for your recording in the afternoon. I know that Hyunjin and Felix are going to have a voluntary dance practice, I don't know if you're planning to join them. If you're not, maybe you could keep an eye on Jisung till you need to head to the studio?" – "I was thinking about it but after I found Sungie this morning, I'd rather keep him some company before coming over to record my parts", Minho agreed, "Can you text me if you take longer or already need me earlier? It'll take me longer to get to the studio from here instead of the dance room." – "Sure, will do. Thank you, Min, and tell Jisung to feel better", Chan smiled before gathering Changbin, Seungmin and Jeongin. Hyunjin and Felix left only a few minutes later.

After the dorm became quiet, Minho made his way to the kitchen. He decided to prepare a pot of tea, in hopes of helping Jisung's throat, when he remembered the rapper also hadn't had breakfast yet. Figuring his dongsaeng didn't have that much of an appetite, Minho contemplated what would be soft enough to eat with a sore throat. He washed a handful different berries and sliced a banana, mixing the berries into a bowl of yoghurt, which he had sweetened with some honey, and decorating it with banana slices. Grabbing a small tray, the dancer placed the yoghurt, a teacup and the pot of tea on it and carried it to Jisung's bedroom. He could already hear the rapper coughing, so he wasn't too worried about waking him up. Opening the door with his elbow, Minho smiled: "Hey." – "Hey", the younger sniffled quietly, "Why's it so quiet?" – "The others left already. Chan decided it would be best to let you rest since you can't record with how shot our voice is. He said to tell you to feel better", Minho explained, watching a look of horror flash across Jisung's face. "That was supposed to be today?" – "Yeah, we're recording today. My turn is scheduled for the afternoon, so I stayed back to keep you company for now", the dancer confirmed, "You didn't have breakfast with us, so I made you something. Hope it doesn't hurt too much." – "Thanks, hyung", Jisung whispered, accepting the bowl from Minho. Seeing how pretty the older had decorated it made the rapper smile.

Minho sat at the foot of Jisung's bed, keeping the boy company while he ate. "You should probably change back into something comfortable, when you're done eating. That doesn't look like it'd be nice to nap in", the dancer commented on the skinny jeans. Jisung nodded, placing the bowl back onto the tray, rasping: "Could I borrow one of your hoodies? They're always the comfiest." The rapper's pout made Minho giggle before he nodded. "I'll get you one. I know which one's your favorite", he chuckled, leaving his dongsaeng blushing on his bed. When he returned, Jisung was curiously eyeing the teapot till Minho picked it up and poured some into the cup, explaining: "Lemon tea. The honey should sooth your throat and the vitamin c will help you kick this cold in no time. Here, that's the hoodie you wanted, isn't it?" Jisung couldn't help but blush again. Minho had really picked out the one he liked most. Nodding, the rapper accepted it and got up to change. In his sweatpants and Minho's hoodie, he crawled back into bed, sitting against the headboard.

His hyung handed him his tea and glanced at the clock. He'd have to leave soon but he wanted to get Jisung all settled before heading out. "Anything you want to do today, while we're gone?", he asked, spotting the rapper's laptop and plugging it in to charge, so his dongsaeng could watch a movie later. The younger just shrugged, admitting: "Honestly, I just want to sleep, please." – "Should I leave?", Minho asked softly, feeling Jisung's forehead again concerned by how wiped he seemed. "I – I don't know", the rapper groaned, coughing again. Seeing how emotional the younger got, Minho cooed: "Tell you what. Finish that tea and then you can sleep, yeah? I'll sit with you and maybe play with your hair till you fall asleep. Then I'll go to the studio and record my parts. Should you wake up before any of us are back, you can watch a movie, maybe have some more tea and then we'll see how you're feeling tonight." Jisung nodded, taking another sip. He finished his tea while Minho got up and drew the curtains, so his dongsaeng would be able to get some proper sleep. Sitting down on the edge of the mattress, the dancer waited for Jisung to put his cup aside and lay down. He gently cupped the boy's feverish cheek before running his hand through his hair, watching the younger relax. Minho sat playing with Jisung's hair, long after the rapper was asleep. When he had to leave for the studio, he grabbed the yoghurt bowl and snuck out of the room. After placing the bowl in the sink, he slipped on his shoes and headed out.

[happys-crazy-queen22]

Fertility Struggles II

Gif credit @angels-reyes

Part 2 to Fertility struggles. Hope you all enjoy.

Taglist @nocturnalherb16. @jesseswartzwelder. @leaalfred. @creepers-baby-girl. @writerwithasoul. @twistnet. @baylishh. @believinghurts. @ilovetaquitosmmmm. @mayans-mc.

Month after month since starting IVF, you've gotten your period. It was starting to make you mad. You were actually getting tired of using periods at the end of a sentence. They were everywhere. One month you did get your hopes up because you missed your period but wham that bitch hit you at the end of the month. She wasnt going to let your dreams come true.

It was the first day of your period and Nestor came home happy thinking this might have worked. You've been moody and eating a lot. But you were scared to tell him.

"You got your period"? He asked when he saw you on the couch, with your sweats, a box of tissues and icecream with a blanket wrapped around you.

"Yeah. That bitch can't give us a break. I'm sorry". You said with a sniffle.

"It's okay. We can try again". He came over to the couch and sat down pulling your legs to his lap.

"I dont know if I want too". You replied, playing with your icecream in the tub.

"What do you mean"? Nestor moved in his seat to look at you. He was confused. This has always been the number one thing you have ever wanted.

"IVF seems to not be working. I'm getting my period every month. It's like I'm taking this drug for the fun of it. I'm putting us through hell and getting nothing". You wiped away tears with your sleeve.

"Its not for nothing. We're going to make a baby. You can't give up". He rested his hand on your stomach.

"I havent. Maybe we should look into adoption or a surrogate"?

"So you're wanting me to take my sperm and put it in someone else that is not my wife"? Nestor looked confused and like you wanted him to walk into this trap.

"Maybe. There wont be any contact with your junk and her junk. Itll be through a doctor. So calm down. You're not sleeping with anyone but me". You laughed as he sighed a sigh of relief.

"Alright. Why dont you go to the doctor and make sure that they can't do anything before we jump to those options".

"I'm tired Nestor. I'm tired. I dont want anymore doctors".

"Just go for me. We cant give up".

"Alright. Fine. For you but if they say they cant. I'm done. My body has been through enough. I cant". You shake your head. Tears rolling down your cheeks. Your heart has been broken so many times and you couldnt go through that again. Your heart couldn't bare it.

"What brings you in today"? Your doctor asked, she probably already knows the answer.

"IVF isn't working. I've tried everything you said. I keep getting my period every month. I'm just, it's like it's no hope for me". You explain.

"How long does the periods last"?

"Two maybe three days but it's like spotting. No heavy flow".

"Okay.  I'm going to do a ultrasound and see if we can see anything".

"I'm telling you theres nothing in there". You sigh laying back on the table.

"You never know". She said before stepping out the door.

She came back in with a nurse and the machine. The gel she squirted was cold on your stomach.

"Alright, let's see what we got".

Looking at the screen, you saw nothing. Blank uterus. "Told you".

"Dont be so sure. What is this"? She pointed to the screen and saw two little jellybeans just floating around in your uterus.

You about hopped off the table when she said that. "How is that possible". You asked about in tears.

"Well, when you're on the IVF, occasional spotting happens and some mistake it as their period. But you're pregnant. With twins. It's to early to tell what they are but they seem healthy". She said taking pictures of the jellybeans.

"Oh my God. Nestor is going to freak when I tell him". You gasped as she handed you the ultrasound photo.

"Thank you so much for everything. You have no idea what this means to us". You hugged her crying.

"I think I have a idea. I too had a hard time having children so I know what it feels like to get that news that you're pregnant". She smiled and gave you a prescription for prenatal vitamins.

"Thanks again". You said before leaving her office.

You were so excited to tell Nestor that he was going to be a daddy. But then the nerves kicked in. What happens if this is like last time? What if you lose them or even one? You were going to take every precaution there was. You put yourself on bedrest and a healthier diet. Thinking those could help to keep the babies.

Getting home, Nestor was already there. Walking into the house, he was cooking. Something so good it made your mouth water.

"What are you cooking? I hope you made tons of it"? You moaned when you got to the kitchen, the aroma getting stronger.

"Its my fathers recipe. I knew you would like it. It's great for getting women pregnant. Just look at me". Nestor said with a wink coming over to you and kissed your head. You wrapped your arms around him.

"How was the doctors? Everything okay"? He asked looking down at you.

"Everything's wonderful". You grinned from ear to ear.

"Really? Just last night you didnt want to go.  What changed"?

"Oh just the two little lives growing inside me". You swiftly pulled out the sonogram and put it in his face with a squeal.

"You're joking? What? How? Oh my god". He picked you up, kissing your lips.

"Babies. We had tons of sex and oh my god is right. We finally did it. The doctor said they look healthy".

"Oh baby, I'm so happy and so very thankful". Nestor held you tight. All his dreams were coming true.

"Me too.  But I'm not taking any chances. I'm putting myself on bedrest and we're going to start eating healthier foods. No delicious tub of icecream or chips or tacos". You frowned licking your lips. Now the cravings start.

"Babe, you can have all of that just eat it a little at a time. Foods not going to hurt you. Might make you nauseous or give you heartburn but you have to eat".

"I know. I'm just scared. Because we dont know what caused the miscarriages. Anything can be a trigger. We just have to be careful and watch out for signs".

"We will. Um, can we not tell anyone until we know for sure we're out of the woods"?

"I was thinking the same thing. I don't want to get anyone's hopes up if they will be torn apart. I'm scared to get excited but I am. I cant for these jellybeans to be in our arms. Safe and sound". You squeezed Nestor. He was so happy. But the little voice said something could go wrong. Praying that it didnt.

During your pregnancy, you had one scare but that was it. You made it to 38 weeks then your water broke. Then the real nervousness kicked in. The babies room was prepared and you had everything they needed. You were just nervous about them getting here.

Luckily they came out healthy and strong with tons of hair.

Cruz Valentino Oceteva weighed 7lbs 4oz. He looked just like Nestor and a head of hair. Nestor tried to braid it like his. He succeeded in doing so. Heartburn was the worst.

Maya Jade Oceteva weighed 6lbs 2oz. Se was a lot smaller than her brother but was a strong little girl. You know how they say you carry them for nine months and they come out looking like their father. That's true. She looked like Nestor but with your nose. And a head full of hair that you put little bows in.

God you were so lucky to have Nestor and the babies. Life was complete. Well maybe. Another kid wouldnt hurt. Or three. But for now you were going to enjoy the baby moments and the smell of their little heads. Which you and Nestor took turns sniffing each of the babies heads.

[kpophours]

Way to You

➵ Stray Kids: Bang Chan x fem. reader / one shot, college AU, friends to lovers AU / fluff

➵ warnings: slight cursing, mentions of alcohol/drinking, a teeny tiny bit sexual suggestiveness (nothing explicit)

➵ word count: 5.7k

You are in trouble.

You are in really big trouble.

Staring at the sleeping person beside you, you think about what to do next.

Maybe you could move to a different country, take on the maiden name of your mother and become a dog sitter. You like dogs! Love them, even. Cats too, you’re not picky.

Or maybe you could apply to be one of those people being shot into space to colonize Mars. It’s probably chill up there - not many people, and even better: no Chan. Probably no wifi too, though. But well, you like reading so you could always pass time by bringing enough books, right?

Or maybe, as an easier and far less dramatic solution: you could just pretend to not remember anything from last night - honestly, from the way your head is pounding right now, it doesn’t even seem that far fetched. 

For now you decide to just slide out of bed before the man beside you wakes from his deep slumber, and to flee from his house, hoping no one is going to see you. No witnesses, no crime, right?

At least you’re still wearing a shirt and most of your underwear, so … it could be worse. 

Probably.

Right?!

You take in a deep breath and carefully lift the blanket, slowly wiggling towards the edge of the bed. Before you can successfully escape though, Chan beside you groans, and wraps one arm around your waist to pull you close to his own warm body again. You almost squeal, but manage to press your lips together to stifle the noise.

Chan’s breathing is soft and steady - so for now, he’s still asleep, but you need to get away from him as quickly as possible. So you try to escape for a second time, carefully prying his arm from your body and placing it back on the mattress. This time, you successfully slide out of bed, silently landing on your feet and almost losing your balance - you are in desperate need of some water, it seems. Dehydration is no joke, kids. Quietly, you slip into your jeans and grab your bra dangling from a bedpost. You also look for your purse but after being unable to locate it, you finally tiptoe out of the room. As soon as you’ve managed to close the door behind you, you exhale, relief spreading through your whole body. You’re fine, you’re good, you’re almost out of here! You pretty much run towards the bathroom, and suppress a groan when you see your tired hangover face staring back at you in the mirror. After drinking some water straight from the tap, you wash off the pitiful rest of your makeup, put your hair up into a ponytail and deem yourself ready to leave the solidarity of the bathroom again - and to face whoever’s already awake.

The frat house is almost eerily quiet at this time of day, so you try not to make a sound while sneaking downstairs, cringing whenever one of the steps creaks under your weight. You sigh in relief when you’ve finally made it downstairs, and begin to smile when you spot your purse dangling from the back of a chair. To your delight, the keys to your flat, your wallet and phone are all still in there. Maybe the world isn’t as bad of a place as you’re sometimes making it out to be. “Morning.” You squeal and turn around, hand clutching your chest. Hyunjin chuckles when he sees your shocked expression, and silently toasts you with the mug he is holding in one hand. “Well don’t you look lovely so early in the morning.”, he teases, and you stick out your tongue at him. “I’m very sorry to inform you that not everyone has been blessed with a perfect morning face, oh dear Adonis.”, you just answer, and he grins. “Want some coffee”?, he asks, already reaching for a second mug, but halts in his movement when he sees your hesitant expression. Your eyes slide towards the stairwell and back at the young man in front of you again. “I- I should go.”, you say, and he just nods, hand falling away from the coffee pot. “Sure. Have a nice day, then.” For some reason, he seems disappointed, but you try not to give it too much thought. So you just smile at him, before ducking out into the hallway to grab your shoes and jacket, quickly leaving the frat house behind. It’s a cold morning for early autumn, mist hanging between the trees and making it difficult to see, and you bury both hands in your pockets while walking towards the direction of your flat. It’s weirdly quiet, and you’re almost regretting your decision to leave the house so abruptly, even though it was probably the more… sensible thing to do. Chan and you have a long, complicated history - missed opportunities, bad timing, broken hearts. For some reason, it just never seems to work between you guys. There’s always either another person standing between you, or some miscommunication happens, or he is suddenly leaving to spend a term abroad in Australia or or or … the list goes on and on. You’ve never managed to find your way to each other.

Yesterday was his welcome back party, and as part of the “inner circle”, you’d of course been invited to join the surprise gathering as well. You truly love and adore all the boys living at the frat house, even though you want to smack Minho pretty much 24/7, really dislike Hyunjin’s perfect face and superior smirk whenever he plays beer pong against you, and are almost a bit annoyed at Jeongin’s cuteness (you would probably let him get away with literal murder). You also can’t believe the amount of chicken Seungmin manages to eat in a day, and have long lost count of how many times you’ve had to drag Changbin out of the cave he calls his room so he’d finally see some sunlight again and get that vitamin D. No wonder he never grew past the 1.70m mark. Felix is the only one you’d never say anything against, the man being too sweet (and cute) for his own good. He is just sunshine personified. You’d legit burn down cities to protect him. You had met the seven young men during your freshman year, all thanks to your then new roommate and your now best friend Jisung. The others had pretty much accepted you with open arms, and almost just as quickly, you had fallen head over heels for Chan. But who can blame you? Not only is he incredibly handsome, but also funny, witty, smart and always down to clown. Your perfect man in the shape of a talented, beautiful goofball. And he seems to be more than interested in you as well, often shamelessly flirting with you, touching you more than necessary and generally being a total sweetheart towards you.

And yet - … and yet … for some reason, it just never seems to work between you two. Fate is against you, apparently. 

Exhausted, you unlock the front door to the flat you share with Jisung, hoping that he is either still at his girlfriend’s place, or deeply asleep. You need a long hot shower and some alone time afterwards. 

And coffee, lots of it. Or tea. One or the other, you’re honestly not picky.

Sadly, fate is against you yet again: Jisung sits at the kitchen table, dark eyes almost entirely hidden by too long hair falling into his handsome face. He should really get a haircut. As soon as he lays eyes on you, he gives you a cheeky smile. “Good moooorning.”, he says, tone of voice way too cheerful so early in the day. You sigh internally, but give him a small smile in return and murmur a greeting back. “You look awful.”, your roommate then states, and you roll your eyes at him. “I guess my exterior reflects my inner self, then.”, you grumble, and take the mug of coffee he is sliding your way with a curt nod of your head. “Rough night?”, he asks, lip twitching. You give him a critical look, gnawing on your lower lip. Jisung had left the party around 1am, his girlfriend getting tired and finally wanting to go home. 

So how much does he know?

Knowing the boys … they might have instantly texted him, telling him about you staying the night.

With Chan.

In Chan’s room.

After not having seen him for six months.

After having pretty much confessed to him only seconds before he had to take a cab to get to the airport to leave for his term spent abroad. 

What can you say, timing has never been one of your strong suits. 

Jisung is still staring at you, obviously waiting for your answer. You snap out of your thoughts and take a sip of coffee. You grimace when the bitter taste hits your tongue; Jisung always likes his coffee a lot stronger than you. Pretty much the only strong thing about him though. “It was… long.”, you finally say, and place the mug back on the kitchen table, “And I really need a shower now.” With that, you quickly leave the kitchen again, ignoring your roommate’s low chuckle.

Oh that bastard so knows.

Meaning you have to add a few names to your death note.

Monday is the worst day of the week.

Monday should just cease to exist. Why can’t the week just begin with a nice, chill Tuesday?

You like Tuesdays. Tuesdays are cool.

Mondays on the other hand… They just don’t sit well with you. 

“JISUNG, I SWEAR TO GOD, YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS BEFORE I’M GOING TO BREAK DOWN THIS DAMN DOOR!”, you yell, and continue to hammer your fist against the locked bathroom door.

He’s been in there for almost an hour now, probably using up all the hot water. You can’t believe he’s doing this to you. There’s only about twenty minutes left before you have to leave for your first class, and you definitely need a hot shower and some concealer. Maybe a miracle. Where’s your make-over-sequence when you need it?! Why are you not a young heroine in a quirky rom-com, then you’d probably look perfectly styled all the time. But no, you’ll probably have to go to class with greasy third-day-hair, sweatpants and the biggest eye bags the world has ever seen. Fifty shades of dark circles under your eyes - the perfect movie title should your life ever get turned into one. Probably a solid 10% on Rotten Tomatoes, maybe 15% if the viewers feel generous. Your life just ain’t that interesting so far.

“JI-FUCKING-SUNG!” You kick the door - or well, you want to. Because in that second, your roommate finally decides to open it, so you accidentally kick his shin instead of the wooden door. He yelps, and doubles over in pain. “Hey, I thought you were a pacifist. Violence is never the answer and all that stuff!”, he complains, voice laced with pain, and you feel like, 20% sorry. Or maybe only 15%. “It’s your own fault if you need half an eternity to get ready.”, you scoff, and squeeze past him to get inside the bathroom and to finally take your long awaited shower. “Aren’t you a joy to have around in the morning.”, Jisung just replies, and you flip him off before closing the door into his puffy morning face.

You’re almost late to class, but not because you took too long in the bathroom, oh no. This is Jisung’s fault again - being the annoying parasite that he simply is, he used up the last of your favorite tea, meaning you had to search through the kitchen cabinets to find your less tasty emergency back-up tea. Finding it had taken way too long, because about two weeks ago, Jisung had randomly decided to move everything around inside the cabinets, and now you can’t find shit anymore. He should really get a hobby or two.

You’re out of breath by the time you reach the lecture hall, and almost frozen to death thanks to the temperature dropping way too low last night. Your hair is still wet because you didn’t have time to blow dry it this morning, so you know you’ll look like a crazy witch in approximately half an hour. Having unruly hair is fun. “Hey, Y/N!”, someone yells as soon as you walk through the door, and you jump, almost spilling the back-up tea all over yourself. Thankfully, you manage to maneuver the small thermos flask away from your body, so the hot liquid spills onto the floor instead of your clothes. You shoot a silent apology to the cleaning staff. Your eyes zone in on the person responsible for your near-death-experience, and you groan when Minho flashes you a cheeky smile. It’s way too early to deal with demons, you decide, and are about to turn around and search for a more welcoming or even unfamiliar face in the crowd of students, when Hyunjin appears at your side, mirroring Minho’s gleeful expression. 

“Hell’s empty and all the devils are here.”, you mutter under your breath, and Hyunjin laughs, before shoving you towards the empty seat beside Minho. “Stop quoting Shakespeare, you drama queen.”, he just says, and takes the seat on your other side. “I still don’t understand why you had to take the same class as me this term. There are endless other classes you could have chosen. Endless, I’m telling you!”, you mumble, expression grumpy. Minho chuckles. “And rid you of our extremely pleasant company and highly amusing commentary? Never.” You just scoff and open your backpack, rummaging through it until you find your small notebook and pen. Call you old fashioned but you actually like to take notes by hand, eyeing Minho’s sleek MacBook Pro with slight distaste (and maybe a hint of envy). Hyunjin’s doing… better, you guess, because he too is taking notes by hand, but he just has a random assortment of loose paper instead of a bound notebook. You already know he’ll have lost half his notes by the end of the day and will probably ask to borrow yours. Oh that sweet chaos boy. 

“How was the rest of your weekend?”, Minho asks, “You were gone by the time we all got up on Saturday, people were really sad and disappointed by your sudden disappearance, you know.” His tone of voice is innocent, too innocent. You know exactly who “people” includes. Oh, you know it way too well. “I had things to do.”, you answer curtly, eyes stubbornly trained at the front of the room where the teacher’s just trying to set up his laptop. You hope he’ll hurry, because you really don't want to continue talking to Hyunjin and Minho. But apparently, the teacher is a hopeless case, looking at the different cables with a big question mark on his face. What is it with boomers and technology, honestly. “Come on, my dude. Please hurry.”, you whisper, watching the man intensely, both eyebrows drawn together. You try to send him mental strength, because he actually looks like he’s about to cry. You’d go and help him if you weren’t sitting at the very back of the lecture hall. Hyunjin pokes your cheek, and you jump. “Answer us, coward.”, he says, sounding way too pleased. “My weekend was fine. The hangover was uncool, but I spent the rest of the day destroying Jisung at Mario Kart and eating greasy food, so it could have been worse. Sunday was uneventful, I just caught up with some of my reading materials for class this week.”, you recap your last two days in a flat voice, “How about you guys?” “Those were the oh-so-important things you “had to do”? Groundbreaking, truly.” You ignore Minho’s sarcasm and begin to play with the cap of your pen. “Well we had to clean the house after Chan’s welcome home party, of course. And then he showed us some of the pictures he took in Australia - there was this one really cute one where he was cuddling a koala, I’m sure you’d love it.”, Hyunjin tells you, and you’re this close to kicking him. How dare he put the mental image of Chan cuddling a koala in your head. You hate how much you love it. Just because you really like koalas of course, this has nothing to do with Chan himself. If you repeat it over and over again, you might actually believe it one day. Probably not. Ugh, Hyunjin and Minho are truly the worst possible friends you could ask for. Who needs enemies when you have friends like these. “Cool.”, you just murmur, and thank the Heavens above when you see that some student has finally taken mercy on your teacher and is helping him set up. Soon after, the lecture begins, and as annoying as Hyunjin and Minho may be, they usually do take their studies seriously, so they finally shut up and leave you be. You sigh in relief, and begin taking notes as well.

You don’t even know why you agreed to come. 

You don’t want to be here.

At the frat house.

Again.

You were just here last week, and everyone knows how that ended.

You had managed to avoid seeing Chan all week - not that it was difficult, seeing as you don’t share a single class with him. But he hasn’t texted you either, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a teeny tiny bit disappointed.

You grind your teeth, cursing Jisung and his stupidly cute hamster cheekies and puppy eyes. You hate to admit it, but you’re prepared to give him just about anything whenever he looks at you with his deep brown eyes while puffing out his cheeks. Honestly, what did the Universe think all those years ago, bringing him into your life?! Why couldn’t someone else have answered your ad about searching for a new roommate? Why did it have to be Jisung?

This whole mess is really just Jisung’s fault.

If it weren’t for him, you’d probably never have met the perfection that is Christopher Bang Chan. 

“Are you trying to set the house on fire by staring at it? Because I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m pretty sure it ain’t gonna work.”, your best friend says, voice laced with barely hidden glee. 

He knows how much you hate being here. You had only agreed to come after Jisung had promised Chan wouldn’t be here this evening. Pinky-promised, even! But you already see his car parked outside the frat house, and that can only mean one thing - Jisung has betrayed you. That bastard. This is how Jesus must have felt when he found out about Judas’s betrayal. Or Caesar, when he was stabbed by those closest to him, including his own son Brutus. You really can’t trust men. Your heart aches for your other best friend, but of course she just had to graduate top of her class and therefore go attend the most prestigious university in the country. Meaning she’s about a thousand miles away from you right now. In the end, you really can’t trust anyone, huh. But especially not men. And especially not Jisung, it seems.

“You’re less funny than you think.”, you just answer flatly, and your roommate scoffs. “Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. We both know the Universe has blessed me with both devilishly handsome looks and an amazing and unique humor.”, he replies, and now you really want to smack him. But being a self-proclaimed pacifist, you just take in a deep breath and decide to only think about all the ways you would murder him if you were a cold-blooded killer and not a usually soft tempered college student. “Come on, don’t be a party pooper and let’s finally go inside, I’m freezing.” And with that, your best friend simply drags you towards the front door.

Judas and Brutus have nothing on Jisung, you decide. Because the second you step inside the living room of the frat house, you’re greeted by the charms (the Chan arms). It’s way too cold to be wearing a sleeveless shirt, but Chan didn’t get the memo apparently. Or maybe it’s because he’s just so hot, he doesn’t get cold, like ever.

You grimace at your own lame joke, even though you thankfully didn’t say it out loud. That would have been embarrassing. 

There are a few other people here already, maybe about 15 in total, and everyone greets you and Jisung warmly. You smile and return hugs, and before you know it, Changbin has handed you some wine in a red plastic cup. How very fancy, you truly feel special tonight.

He then pushes you towards the four old, mismatched sofas taking up most of the living room space, and orders you to sit down. You’re so surprised by his commanding tone, you actually follow his request without much protest. For a few minutes, you just stay quiet and observe the small crowd of people, taking a sip of wine from time to time. It’s dry, too dry for your liking, and you’d rather have a cup of tea right now. Or well, maybe a shot of vodka - because suddenly, Chan is making his way towards you. Your eyes dart around the room, and you desperately try not to look at him. He looks so good. Too good. No one needs that much beauty, this is truly just excessive. His black hair looks so shiny, you just want to run your fingers through it. And his deep dark eyes, perfect to drown in. You just want to touch his arms and see if his muscles are as hard as they look. He even has a perfectly cute smile, that bastard. It’s just too much, he’s just too much.

Before you can get up and flee from the scene, Chan falls onto the ground beside you, and gives you his signature cheery smile. His lips look incredibly kissable in the dimly lit room. Ugh.

You quickly look away.

“Hi.”, he says, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. He has too much power over you, and he doesn’t even know it. “Hi yourself.”, you answer quietly. “How you’ve been? We haven’t seen each other all week.”, he asks, leaning closer, his right arm brushing against your left one in the process. He smells really good and you can’t help but deeply inhale. “Yeah, I’ve been quite busy.”, you explain, still avoiding to look at him, but out of the corner of your eye, you see how he raises both eyebrows. “Busy? It’s only the second week of class. I didn’t know you’ve become such a geek while I was gone.”, he says, but his soft smile indicates he’s just joking. You shrug, and take another sip of the too dry wine. You grimace again.

It’s disgusting, really, and you don’t even know why you’re still drinking it. 

Chan takes the cup out of your hand, and eyes it suspiciously before taking a sip as well. His face says it all, the wine truly is disgusting. “What is this!? A liquid from Hell?!”, he asks and shudders, and you break into a smile. “Considering you live with at least two demons, it’s not that far fetched.”, you answer, and he tilts his head to one side. “What did Hyunjin and Minho do now?”, he sighs, and you shrug. “They were themselves.” Chan chuckles, mumbles “That actually says it all.” under his breath and leans back against the sofa. He’s still looking at you, and you feel a blush creep on your cheeks. Really uncool of your body to just betray you like that. Mind over matter, you think, and dare the blush to just go away and leave you be. It doesn’t work though. Years of evolution and you’re still unable to command your body the way you want to. How incredibly rude. Darwin would be so disappointed.

“I missed you, Y/N.”, Chan suddenly says, his voice barely above a whisper. You finally turn towards him, and lock eyes with him. His expression is soft and his eyes earnest. You give him the smallest of smiles. “I… well, I missed you too.”, you finally confess, heart fluttering when he breaks into a bright smile. He lifts his hand to brush some of your hair behind your ear, all while still intensely looking at you. Your heart rate immediately flatlines, and you think you might have a very spontaneous case of strong asthma, because your lungs are apparently giving up on you as well. You basically drown in Chan’s eyes, their warm brown so familiar.

“MY DEAREST DUDES AND DUDETTES!”, Seungmin suddenly yells - a beautiful alliteration, you think -, making both you and Chan jump. You hurriedly bring some space between your bodies, almost having forgotten about not being alone in the room. You can feel Hyunjin, Minho and Jisung looking at you, all three sporting matching, shit-eating grins. 

Maybe being a pacifist is not the right way to go through life after all, because right now, you really just want to punch them. Only lovingly, of course, but with enough strength nevertheless.

“Thank you for joining us on this wonderful Friday evening, and welcome to this month’s game and drinking night! I see most of you have already found your seats, so everyone who’s still standing, please go and sit on your butt, thank you very much.” Seungmin grins and waits for everyone to follow his words. He should really consider quitting law school to become a tv host instead of a lawyer. When everyone’s finally seated, he grabs an empty bowl from the shelf behind him and holds it up into the air, its blue glass catching the light. “Everyone, please write down your names on the slips of paper provided for you, and then we shall begin playing our first game of the night.”

It takes almost ten minutes for everyone to write down their names, mostly because there aren’t enough pens for everyone, so people keep fighting over them. After everyone’s finally done, Seungmin collects the slips of paper again, and puts them in his bowl, shuffling through them. “First game of the night is Seven minutes in Heaven.”, he says, his smile cheeky. You groan internally. He can’t be serious. But apparently, he is - because he fumbles for two paper slips, about to declare the first names. “Fingers crossed for it to be Hyunjin and Minho, just because I wanna see their faces.”, you mumble, and Chan beside you chuckles. “Well now I really want to see that, too.”, he replies in a low voice, leaning closer so you can hear him. You gulp nervously, and are about to answer, when Seungmin clears his throat. “Y/N, Chan? Did you not hear me?”, he asks innocently, and you turn towards him, both your expressions questioning. For someone so cute looking, Seungmin can be really evil sometimes, his smile almost devilish right now. “You’re the first ones up. Now go, have fun. Your seven minutes will begin as soon as you close the door behind you.” You’re actually speechless for once, just blinking at the man in front of you. This can’t be happening. He can’t be serious. There is no way this is a coincidence. You know Seungmin and the other boys too well for that. God, you really should have written all their names into your death note when you had the chance. You’re about to demand for Seungmin to show you the slips of paper in his hand, when - “Uh, well… Let’s go, then.”, Chan finally says, and takes your hand in his to help you up from the floor and drag you towards the little broom cabinet under the stairs.

How very Harry Potter-like.

The last thing you see before Seungmin closes the door in your face, is his stupid smirk. 

Oh how much you hate him and the others right now. 

It’s dark inside the cabinet, only some light falling through the slits around the door, but it’s too dim to see anything. Dust tickles your nose, and you have to suppress a sneeze. Chan standing opposite you clears his throat. “So.”, he says, and you shift from one foot to the other. The cabinet is small enough for your bodies to be almost touching. You can feel the heat radiating off him and want nothing more than to cuddle to his chest. “So.”, you repeat. “Here we are.”, Chan says. You just chuckle and nervously rub the palms of your hands together, air thick with tension. Before you can say anything else, Chan takes a step closer to you, hot breath fanning over your face. He smells like mint mixed with alcohol. It’s a nice combination, you think. But then again, you’d probably like anything on him. He’s Chan, after all. 

Your Chan.

You shiver involuntarily, his close proximity making you almost a bit dizzy. “Are you cold?”, he murmurs, voice low and silky. Goosebumps rise all over your body and you shake your head - until you remember he obviously can’t see it in the darkness. “Not really.”, you whisper back, breath hitching when he suddenly wraps both arms around your waist to pull you close to his chest. You can feel his rapid heartbeat under the palm of your hand, mirroring your own. “Why did you leave last week?”, he asks, sounding more vulnerable than you’ve ever heard before. You gulp and bite down on your lower lip. Guilt washes over you. “Technically you left first - for Australia, remember?”, you shoot back, a really weak and sad attempt if you’re being honest. “You know I never would have left if I didn’t have to.”, he says, and you sigh. You know that, of course you do. Chan is a nice, good guy, a really nice, good guy. It had been stupid of you to confess your love for him right before he had to go. In the end, your broken heart had been no one’s fault except your own. You take in a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t know what else to do - I wasn’t sure how you’d react, waking up next to me after all those months of not talking.”, you confess, voice soft and tiny, and duck your head.

Chan’s hand brushes against your cheek, and he lifts your chin with two fingers. “I would have been happy. I would have kissed you good morning before making you some tea. And then I would have stayed in bed all day, cuddling you and showing you all the cool pictures I took in Australia.”, he murmurs, thumb tracing gentle patterns on your cheek. You exhale, sounding wobbly. “That would have been nice.”, you answer, and can almost feel his bright and relieved smile. “Well, tomorrow is Saturday again. So maybe we can just have a do-over.”, he asks, lips awfully close to your own now. “I think I’d like that - I’d really like that.”, you mumble against his lips, and then - finally - he kisses you. Fireworks burst behind your closed eyelids, and you quickly wrap your arms around Chan’s neck to pull him even closer. Now that you’ve started, it seems you can’t get enough of each other - what starts out as a slow, romantic kiss quickly becomes a clashing of tongues and teeth, and when he bites down on your lower lip, you can’t help but moan into his mouth, a hot, tingling feeling shooting through your entire body. All you can think right now is that you never want this moment to end - you’ve been waiting for this for so long. You’ve been waiting for him to finally find his way to you. And you yourself are just so, so tired of running away from him. Never before has anything ever felt so right. 

You’re interrupted by a sudden knock on the door, and immediately jump apart, breaking the kiss. You’re both breathless, chests heaving, and even though you can’t see right now, you know that your hair is a total mess, your lips are swollen and your cheeks flushed. “Your seven minutes are over, so you better be decent!”, Minho says from outside, and before either you or Chan can reply, he opens the door. Light floods the tiny cabinet, and you blink against it, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. The first thing you see when your eyes have finally gotten used to the brightness again, is Minho’s shit-eating grin. He stands in the hallway with both his arms crossed and head tilted to one side. “Well, well, well. Heaven sure seems to be as magical as they say, huh?”, he just says, and you really want to smack the grin off his stupidly handsome face.

But Chan just laughs, and grabs your hand, lifting it to his lips to press a soft kiss against your knuckles. You’re ready to just faint right there and then, knees almost buckling from the sweet gesture. Who cares about Minho’s stupid grin when Chan is being perfect again. “Truly magical, yes.”, Chan just answers good-humoredly, and tugs you out of the broom closet, “Well, if you’d excuse us now.” And with that, he simply drags you up the stairs and towards his room. “Hey, where you’re going?!”, Minho and Hyunjin yell in unison, and you look over your shoulder to give them a cheeky grin. “Chan has some pictures he wants to show me - someone told me there’s a really cute one where he cuddles a koala. I finally want to see that now.”, you answer innocently, and wink at them. Chan laughs and quickly pulls you close, kissing you again. You ignore the clapping and cheering noises the others make downstairs. God, your friends are really embarrassing sometimes. But maybe you’re not as sorry anymore about not having written any of them into your death note. Because as stupid and embarrassing as they often are, you do truly adore every single one of them. “You know what, I think that particular picture would make a really cute background for your phone.”, Chan murmurs against your lips, and you raise both eyebrows. “Oh, I bet.”, you just answer, and smile at him.

… Spoiler alert: it’s actually the perfect background for your phone.

[masterlist] | [requests] 

[psychedellic-phase]

Fifteen (pt 11)

tw: mentions of vomiting, pregnancy, miscarriage 

wc: 4.2k 

masterlist!

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“I apologize in advance for the way this letter is going to be. It’s going to be a mess of my word vomit that is poorly strung together and probably won’t make any sense. The pages are going to be tear-soaked and ripped, kind of like me right now. I feel tattered and torn and achy and bruised. I’m physically fine, but mentally? I’m at my absolute low. The lowest of lows, even though I should be better. I was better for a while, because I still had you. Even after we broke up I was better, because I still had coffee with you at work and we sort of started speaking to each other again. Leaving is hard, but I know with time I’ll be better again. I won’t be at this rock-bottom this forever. 

Speaking of, I should really tell you where I’m at. Physically, it is 1:36 am EST on February 15th. I am still at the kitchen table in that red blanket. The way it smells like you has gone from revolting to comforting in the last few hours of writing. My hand is aching. I have the locket on my neck and I’m incessantly playing with it and opening it to see your face. I haven’t eaten. If I did I’m afraid I’d just puke it all up, so instead I’m half way through a bottle of red and well on my way to a second. I need it. You know what the next part is, Spence, so can you really blame me?

I’ve decided to combine these next two mementos; I feel like they just go together naturally. They tell the same story and they’re both important to that said story. Grab the tissues, Love, you’re gonna need ‘em.”

Spencer did as you asked, reaching to his nightstand and grabbing the box of tissues that was already half empty from how much he had used them in the last fourteen hours. His nose was red and sore from the constant blowing and sniffling. The box felt hollow when he lifted it, and he couldn’t help but relate to it. 

“It all started a month or so after that conversation on the balcony; the one between me, you, and the moon. I felt sick. We weren’t surprised and if I’m being honest, being “careful” had taken a backseat. Don’t think I’m complaining, because I’m not. I loved every moment I ever got to spend with you, especially in those compromising positions we found ourselves in often. I love the way you loved me, so gently, so kindly, with passion and heart. I loved feeling you love me, and you loved me often. So, naturally, we weren’t shocked when I woke up each morning throwing up. I purposely ignored the way my boobs hurt and my hip bones ached. I wasn’t surprised, but I was still terrified. Loaning out your body to another human being is scary. But you? 

It’s like you had this sixth sense. You knew immediately, before I even had a clue. Every day for a week you rubbed my back, held my hair, and soothed me. You got me saltines and ginger ale every day, gently told me to stop with the coffee and deli meats. The way you cared for me during it all made it okay, more than okay. It made me excited. I felt lucky to share that experience with a man like you. I was lucky to share that experience with you. I can say with 100% certainty I will never share it with anyone except you, because no one except you would stop at Walgreens and pick up a box of ClearBlue for their cranky, definitely pregnant girlfriend. You’re the only one who would run to the store when I couldn’t physically eat anything but potato chips and raspberry Arizona Iced Tea. You’re the only one I’d want holding me on the bathroom floor as we waited for the longest three minutes of our lives. You’re the only one I wanted to scoop me up in a hug when it said ‘pregnant’. You’re the only one I’d ever want to be the dad of my kids. That’s just it Spence, you were the one. The only one. I realize that now.”

Spencer shook as he picked up the test in his hands. It felt delicate, and sacred, like it was a relic. Actually, everything in that box felt like a relic, like holy objects that he had to cherish and safeguard. His chest tightened, but he couldn’t cry. He was all out of tears. He spun it, staring at those eight letters, remembering when he bought the test. 

It was Father’s day, ironically enough, and he had gone into the BAU to do some paperwork. You were too sick to come too; you had woken up at four to start your new-found morning routine of shoving your head into the toilet. He woke up with you, saltines and ginger ale in hand as he rubbed circles into your back and whispered ‘you’re okay, I’ve got you’ in between your gagging noises. It was good practice for being a dad, he thought. Waking up at any beck and call of yours would be similar to a newborn, and he needed all the practice he could get. 

Every morning, you’d vomit for an hour or so, chug a ginger ale, and throw that up too before falling asleep on the toilet seat, after which he’d gingerly pick you up and carry you back to bed. That morning was no different, so he felt awful leaving you at home. He left you with a note saying ‘Be back later, Salt and Vinegar or BBQ? Let me know, love you,’ and a bottle of water with a Motrin. 

You had been sick for almost two weeks straight, and he knew you knew why. You just didn’t want to admit it. Neither did he at first; he had a plan. This went against the plan you had agreed to a few weeks ago, but plans change. And for once that didn’t bother him. He was happy the plans had shifted, elated even. He didn’t know how to contain it, spending most days looking up which cribs were safest and which prenatal vitamins he should grab for you. He fully immersed himself in being a dad, before he even knew if he had someone to be a dad for.

When he stopped at the store to get you salt and vinegar and barbecue chips (you requested family sized bags of both), he wandered over to the family planning section. He decided it was finally time. Today was going to be the day. He’d officially be a dad-to-be, and on Father’s day of all days. It felt right. The universe was finally on his side. It was sunny, birds were chirping. Everything felt perfect.

He grabbed a box of clearblue and checked out, the cashier smiling and commenting, “I hope good luck is what I should say.”

He smiled ear to ear, “Yes, I appreciate that, thank you.”

The tests felt like they were burning a hole through the paper bag the whole walk home. A few times he considered not even giving them to you. He was scared for how you’d react. He was happy, but would you be? Would you cry? Would your tears be happy or sad? Part of him didn’t want to find out, but a bigger part of him needed to find out. 

When he got home, you practically ran to greet him. 

“Chips! Chips!” 

You kissed his cheeks and face, and he squeezed you tightly, but not too tightly. Just in case.  

“Yes, I got the biggest bags that they sell.”

“You know I love you? So much?”

“I know. I love you too, so much,” He blushed and watched you dig in the shopping bag, where you found the box of tests. 

“Spencer—“

“We need to talk.”

He cut you off, trying to profile the look on your face. It was half shock, but he swore he saw you bite back a smile. 

“I know,” you said, opening the box, “And I think we both know what this is going to say.”

“I have an idea of what it’ll say. Is that okay?”

“Is it okay?” You said, standing in front of him and wrapping your arms around his shoulders, “Yes. It’s scary, but it’s wanted.”

He placed his hands on your belly. There was nothing there yet, but he still couldn’t contain the smile, “Really?”

You rolled your eyes, using humor to deflect as usual, “Don’t pretend you haven’t been trying to knock me up for months, Dr. Reid,” now he rolled his, “I’m going to go pee on this.”

He followed you into the bathroom, and then proceeded to wait for three minutes. The longest three minutes in the history of time. 

“First time?” You asked him, nestled between his legs on the bathroom floor. 

“Yeah, believe it or not this is the first pregnancy test I’ve ever taken.”

You laughed, shifting even closer to him in an attempt to have him swallow you whole, “Nah, I’ve peed on a ton of sticks.”

“Is that so?” He joked back. You stiffened, and he gripped you tighter. If he could hold you together, maybe you wouldn’t fall apart.

“No,” your voice was low and weak, “and I’m scared. I don’t know why. I’m happy, but terrified, does that even make sense?” 

He kissed the back of your head, “I’ve got you.”

The rest of the time was silent, just appreciating the warmth the other offered. You made him go look at it, not trusting yourself to be able to stand in that moment. 

“It’s positive,” He said, trying to conceal his excitement.

“Really?” Your face lit up and he lit up too, sweeping you off your feet into a hug he wished would have lasted for a hundred years. 

“Yeah, Love, really. You’re going to be a mom!”

Happy tears breached both of your eyes, “And you’re going to be a dad!”

He groaned at the memory, wishing that slice of pure bliss would have lasted. He felt so much happiness in that moment, maybe too much. Maybe we’re all given an allotted amount of happiness at birth. Maybe he only had so much happiness in his body, and he used all his happiness up with you. That would make sense, because he hadn’t found a speck of genuine happiness in his life without you. 

“When you told me it was positive, that was simultaneously the happiest and most terrifying moment of my entire life. I was elated. Over the moon. Ecstatic. Because I always wanted a baby and I always wanted a baby with you. But I was scared. I was scared because pregnancy is scary and birth is supposed to feel like breaking all your bones at once or something. I was scared because I didn’t know if I had the money to get the best crib and best everything for our baby. I was scared because our baby would have two parents with dangerous jobs that we might not come home from. It’s the sad truth of our lives Spencer. We’ve stared down the barrels of many guns, been taken and tortured, looked evil in its eyes. I was scared because instead of living in that moment of pure happiness and love, I was looking ahead, as if anything in this life is guaranteed. 

I ignored my fears, like I ignore everything I really should be looking in the eyes, and let us be happy. All I ever wanted was for us to be happy. And that was the start of when we were the happiest. 

Everyday was full of baby name lists and Mozart and nutritionally balanced meals you made for me. You fed me a lot of sweet potatoes, because “Sweet potatoes are high in vitamin A, Y/N, and you need to increase your vitamin A intake by about 20% during pregnancy.” The only problem was I hate sweet potatoes, and all I really wanted to eat was loaded nachos and cheese fries. 

Being pregnant with the smartest man in the world had its pluses and minuses. On the plus side, you knew everything about everything. If I ever felt a funny movement or a weird symptom, you knew what was going on. Because of JJ (another thing I chose to ignore). But that was also a minus, because I’d tell you my tummy hurt and suddenly you’d overreact and make me call my doctor. I’d laugh and tell you it was all okay, I didn’t have any rare conditions that have only ever affected 3 people in the history of the world. I was okay. Me and her, we were okay.”

Spencer stopped. Her? You actually used ‘her?’ You never did that. After everything happened you referred to her as ‘the baby’ because it made it less personal. If you called her ‘her’ or by the name you’d chosen, that made it real. Neither of you wanted it to be real. 

You had cried over this page heavily, the words marked by inky tear stains. He was following suit, staring at that word. 

Her. A girl. His daughter. His girl. 

“You’d give me weekly updates on how big the baby was and what was growing and changing. And trust me, I felt growing and changing. And to me, it felt like sore boobs and vomiting. Pregnancy did not make me glow, it made me dull and gray and cranky and somehow still so happy. I was happy because of you. 

You listened to me compare the pros and cons of virtually identical bassinets while you rubbed my feet. You laid your head on my belly, even before there was a bump and listened or talked to her about your day. You always got me potato chips. You removed every vanilla candle in our house when the smell made me want to hurl. You were understanding when I’d snap at the littlest things or cry at a sad commercial. You made every stomach ache and hip ache feel better, even if you did fact dump about it every four seconds. I got so caught up in being a mom-to-be that I often forgot you were a dad-to-be, too. I’m sorry for that. I should've supported you the way you supported me, through everything. For that, I'm truly sorry. 

Remember when everyone found out? We decided to wait to tell them, at least into week twelve, just in case something happened. 

“If a miscarriage were to happen, it would most likely occur in the first trimester;” you explained one day, while I had my grubby little hands in a plate of loaded sweet potato fries (a compromise). 

“My mom always said it's bad luck,” I said, “But I’m happy to keep this between us. I wish we could live in this bubble of happiness forever, Spencer.”

I still wish we could’ve lived in that bubble forever, but it popped. 

We still went to work like usual. They all knew something was up. I was opting out of takedowns and always eating. Like, always. Derek knew not to go to the vending machine without getting something for me. I sized up in Kevlar and Rossi did mention that I was looking ‘glowy’ a few times. No one asked us though, which is a surprise given the people we work with. They knew we loved each other before we even did, so I’m sure they knew I had one in the oven. 

We told them by getting a onesie that said “FUTURE FBI AGENT” on it. Super cheesy, but perfect for us. We showed up to a carbonara ala Rossi dinner with it stashed in my purse.

“No wine?” Rossi asked me and I shook my head no, “Okay Bella, okay.”

He sent me a knowing look with a grin. Classic Rossi, always the dad. 

After dessert, we stood up, clinking a class and you held me close.

“Attention, everyone!”

The whole crew stared at us, and you gave them the line you had rehearsed in the car on the way over, “The BAU is my family, and I love you all so dearly. which is why Y/N and I would like to tell you that we have a new recruit coming in February!” 

We each took one sleeve of this adorably tiny onesie and held it up, everyone cheering and clapping and congratulating us.

The boys patted you on the back, Penelope tackled me in a hug, Blake kissed your cheeks. Even JJ had a genuine smile for us. It was perfect. Literally perfect. That may be the best moment of my life. It was me and you, sharing the most important part of our lives with the people most important to us. My heart aches just thinking about them. God, they were so excited. Garcia and Derek bought me gifts. JJ gave me advice. We sent Emily a picture of me and you with that baby onesie, and she texted me everyday to ask how I was feeling. My dad was over the moon, he didn’t even care that we weren’t married. Diana was the happiest of them all. She was so excited for you to have this journey, and she told me she was glad it’d be with me. She once wrote to me that a dream of hers was to be a grandma, and when you were a kid she thought that may never happen, since you were so smart and special and different. She thought no one would ever understand you enough to love you like that. She said that all changed when she met me. She could tell I understood you and loved you. So tell Diana that I’m sorry I couldn’t give her that dream and that I hope she gets her wish of being a grandma one day. I hope you get your wish to be a dad, too. It may kill me to know that you’d be out there parenting without me, but it may kill me more if you never get to have that dream Spencer Reid. So do it. Break my heart a million times over. It’s worth it as long as you’d be happy at the end of it all.”

He sighed shakily, he’d only be happy at the end of it all if it was with you, an option that seemed less and less likely with each passing letter. 

The box contained that little onesie. He held it up, astonished at how small it was. How could a person ever be so tiny? He let himself cry into it, the onesie still smelling like you. He remembered ordering it online, sneaking it in your purse and the look on everyone’s faces when he gave his little speech. He remembered JJ squeezing him tight and telling him he’d be amazing and how happy she was that Henry and Jack would have a new friend. He remembered Derek slapping him on the back and commenting how pretty the baby would be, “You and Y/N? We may have a new pretty boy in the house soon!”

He remembered Rossi immediately finding a copy of ‘What to Expect When You’re Expecting’ on a shelf in his massive mansion, and giving it to him with a kiss on both cheeks. He remembered sneaking to Vegas to tell his mother, how she leapt up and swallowed him in a hug. But perhaps the most memorable and meaningful interaction he had that night was with Hotch. 

He came up to Spencer separately, at the end, and gave him his own fatherly wisdom, “Congratulations, Reid. This is going to be the greatest adventure of your life, and you’re going to be an amazing father.”

Spencer smiled, looking over at you, hands all over your barely there belly, giggling with Garcia and Derek, “Because of her.”

“What?”

Spencer cleared his throat, “I’m going to be a great father, because she makes me a great man.”

Hotch smiled and brought Spencer into a hug, two rare occurrences, “I felt the same way about Haley.”

Spencer felt Hotch stiffen, and he waited for him to finish, “My only advice to you is to not be me. If she makes your world spin a little faster, if she makes life a little better, if she makes the job easier, then don’t wait. I waited too much with Haley. Don’t make the same mistakes I did.”

Spencer smiled, knowing then what he needed to do. You did make his world spin faster. You made the world a better place. 

“I won’t, Hotch,” He cleared his throat, “I promised her that much.” 

But there he was now, making all the same mistakes Hotch had. He had waited. He said he wouldn’t but he still did. He poured himself into work instead of love, just like Hotch, and it led him to his rock-bottom. He was staring at a baby onesie that should’ve held his baby, except he had no baby, and he had no you. 

He toyed with the snaps on the bottom, undoing them and redoing them in an attempt to relieve stress. He could imagine what she would’ve looked like. He thought she’d be chubby, like a little michelin man with rolls on her knees and elbows. He thought her hair would be brown and curly, like his, and her eyes would hold the universe in them like yours did. He thought that he’d love her tenfold the amount he loved you, which was a lot. He wondered if when he saw her face his heart would be too full and give out then and there. 

“My favorite memory of being pregnant is that day we went to Meridian Hill Park, remember? You fixed up a picnic basket full of nutritious foods, sneaking a bag of saltines just in case I felt sick. That was one of the last days, if I remember right. It was week eighteen. I looked like I had a basketball shoved under my dress. The doctor’s said I was measuring large; the baby would probably be nine pounds. We knew she was a girl. We didn’t have some big gender reveal, we just had the doctor tell us at the ultrasound. 

You set the blanket down, helping me sit and get situated. It was mid-October, so the leaves were bright yellow and orange. You had on a cozy sweater and brought a blanket to drape over my legs. I remember eating a few apple slices and leaning on you, just admiring the world. I looked over at you and smiled. Your hair was shorter and you were sitting cross-legged, slouching and eating a sandwich.

“You know what would be a cute name for her?” You said, shifting to allow me to lay my head on your lap.

“Hm?”

“Annabelle.”

“Like from the Poe story?”

“Technically, it’s a poem, but yes.”

“Doesn’t she die in it?”

You shrugged, “Yes, but it has such beautiful lines. ‘We loved with a love that’s more than love, I and my Annabell Lee.”

Your hand met my rather large bump, and upon hearing you whisper “Annabell Lee” the baby kicked, right into your hand. 

You looked down at me, smiling, “See she likes it! Don’t you Annabelle?”

I rolled my eyes, “Must everything be macabre with you Reid?”

You gave me pleading eyes, “Even without the poem, it’s still a beautiful name. It’s of English origin and means gracious or beautiful.”

“Annabelle Diana Reid,” I said, trying it on for size. 

You scrunched up your eyebrows and nose, “Diana?”

I shrugged, “I thought it’d be nice, and that makes for a really pretty name.”

You grinned, “I love it, and I love you, and I love Annabelle. I promise I will love you both for the rest of my life.”

I like to think you’ve kept that promise. 

You kissed me gently, the sun washing over us and a few stray leaves falling, just you, me, and Anna. 

I don’t believe in jinxes or superstitions. I believe in science and facts. But some part of me can’t shake the feeling that if we picked a different name things would’ve been different. Maybe if she was an Ava or an Olivia we wouldn’t be here. But she was Annabelle. Our Annabelle. 

I got rid of every other speck of baby stuff from this place. When you were off on cases and I was at home, I filled a bag with the few things we had gotten and dropped them off at the Salvation Army. I couldn’t bear parting with this onesie though, in fact I’m having a hard time even giving it to you. But she was yours too. My favorite part of the poem is this: 

‘And neither the angels in Heaven above, nor the demons down under the sea, can ever dissever my soul from the soul, of the beautiful Annabel Lee’”

Spencer crumpled the letter up. He was done reading this. He had to stop, his breath and heart rate were skyrocketing. He felt he’d been chewed up and spit out. He wanted to scream or punch a wall. His sadness forming into an angry monster that he couldn’t contain. He threw the crumpled letter across the room with a yell.

When he realized what he had done, he quickly tried to flatten the paper out, “No, no, no no! Please” 

Hot tears were streaming down his face uncontrollably making his vision bleary and the letter even harder to read. He needed you. You always knew how to calm him down and he needed that now. His mom was right, you did understand him. You were probably the only person alive who ever really, truly, did. 

He grabbed his phone, scrolling to find your contact name. He didn’t press ‘call’. He just stared at the ten numbers, frozen, and allowed himself to sob. 

Part 12!

Taglist!

@l0ve-0f-my-life @aperrywilliams @helloniallslovelies @random-ravings (tag isnt working) @ajwantsapancake @andiebeaword @boiled-onionrings @frnks-stuff @icantevenanymore1 @mellifluouswildbluebells @rottenearly @sammypotato67​ @blushingwueen​ @peaxhyjaes​ @justanotherfangurlz​ @juniorgman187​ @mbowles23-blog​ @blameitonthenight21​ @goldentournesol​ @rainsong01​ @thelifeofadumbbitch​ @swimmingtrashwobblersludge  (not working)

[cloveroctobers]

ANNA-JULIA “AJ” (JONES) JARLETT

IG bio/info: @/annajj9x_ | 20.1k followers| Athlete | hey peeps can you stop asking me to throw it back cuz the answer will always be no! K thx take it easy 🏳️‍🌈🌻🏒🐶

21 years old

From bath, England

Hockey player as her profession for the past three years

Her position is defense

Their team name is “rowdy alphas”...yeah some team names just didn’t make sense or they’re cringe for no reason at all

Was raised by her mom,(her mom was a teen mom & had her at 17) maternal grandmother, and her paternal aunt (dad’s younger sister, who’s more like a big sister to her at 28)

They’ve made her into the person she is, literally

Her grandmother has a bed and breakfast that they all live in

the house is Victorian style—almost as if they walked right out of charmed! Instead of a big pink house, think yellow AND purple. It was hideous but homey and charming on the inside

growing up in a house with multiple temporary strangers wasn’t odd to aj at all, in fact it felt like the norm. There was always someone around to socialize with so that was quite nice

Her father was a pro baseball player & passed away due to a automobile accident

she has his smile & freckles

aj was also involved in the accident at the age of 6 & miraculously survived with intense injuries

Has scars as a reminder

used to have night terrors because of the accident...it took awhile—years!!! for them to subside

they’re all vague memories now (but the pain is something she’ll always remember) but she preferred it that way

she’s named “Anna” after her mother’s old best friend/roommate and was supposed to be aj’s god mother but she went missing during their uni years

the name“Julia” came from her paternal grandmother who she gets her wide doe eyes from

her athleticism definitely came from her dad

Her mother luckily liked to document things so there’s a bunch of home videos of her dad in them & pictures/scrapbooks that her mom has for safe keeping

She’s more of a klutz, tiny, and wears huge prescription glasses

extremely close to the three most important ladies in her life, so she’s always been able to be open with them about anything!

when she first expressed her interest in liking both genders around 17-18 her paternal aunt was all smirks, “i knew Britney Spears was so your type, yeah?”

more like shakira but Brit was just as pretty

her mother was a “cry baby” so ofc she burst out into tears squeezing aj’s limbs and peppering her face with kisses. She didn’t view her child as anything different... as she shouldn’t & was glad that her daughter trusted them with this significant moment in her life and wanted to be as supportive as she could

got books, watched Ted talks and everything but knew she could come to the source even tho aj was still figuring it out herself

her grandma dipped her head at the new info sitting at the round kitchen table, “been there. had a few broads in my life after and during my marriage with your no good grandad. Thank goodness the bastard died before you even got to meet ‘em.” “Mum!”

what felt like the biggest weight on her chest was lifted. She knew they’d understand but a part of her had a little bit of doubt, she’s heard so many horror stories where those like her didn’t have the support she has and that made her extremely sad to think about

i see her as a person that has/had many friends in secondary. She’s always open to chat and her being on a few sports teams helped her out in her case

very competitive in anything that she does & will guarantee that she’ll beat you. (“ You wanna race to the car from here?”wins. “Who ever cleans the most dishes the fastest gets the last slice of pie.”) majority of the time she’s right but if she loses?? oh don’t let her lose to you, it’s a pity party for the rest of the time ur in her space. Such a sore loser omg

stays active, always working out + has a gym membership and makes sure she goes at least five times a week

she’s very strong, loves leg day & working on her core

she’s about 5’10

loves wearing “gf jeans” since they’re super comfy but doesn’t mind skinny Jeans with rips in the knees every now and then

trainers and chucks are her go-to sneakers

has no issue shopping in the men’s section ‘cause who’s gonna stop her? Nobody that’s who

owner of over a 100 graphic tees + vertical stripped shirts are also her favs, SWEATPANTS/joggers?! How many does she have? A lot. Snapbacks? Plenty. Will she wear them backwards? Obviously.

Physical touch is her love language. She’s comes from a family that has no issue showing their affection by touch. There is NO such thing as personal space and that still stands with aj when it comes to relationships, she sees no other way

It’s what she shows and what she wants in return, if you’re not touching her in some sort of way, then automatically she thinks there’s something wrong or that she did something

Is the jealous type. It has shown in relationships and ruined a relationship or two

Has cheated on a significant other out of pure jealousy & is not proud to admit that

Does have a wandering eye but feels now that she truly understands herself when it comes to relationships, she’ll never act on it again

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, I get libra tendencies from her so that’s what I’m sticking with. She likes to keep the peace (unless she’s jealous) , idealistic — always looking on the bright side of things, outgoing, romantic, and professional— especially when it comes to her team; her true leadership comes out, yet she can be indecisive, hates confrontation, self pitying — if things don’t go perfectly how she imagined/planned it to, the world is ending and everyone is out to get her, and can be unreliable—never on time

September libra to be exact

if she’s really in love/taken a interest in you then she gets nervous: blushing, sweaty palms, cracking her knuckles, tongue tied—the whole 9

she’s already defined as a puppy by her coach but when she’s in love? She’s a lovesick puppy!

her fav holiday is Valentine’s Day

thought she was going to be a pro skateboarder growing up but it took one bad fall where she thought she was paralyzed for her to choose something else

she likes her weed on occasion

Obsessed with all types of cheese except cottage, “can I put cheese on this?”

more of a jumpsuit kinda girl or dressy top with jeans & hoops on a night out

has a solid group of mates outside of the hockey team, they’ve all met and hung out a couple of times, as they should since aj feels they’re going to be stuck with her for awhile so why not?

They’re a riot when they all go out, let’s just say that there’s never a dull moment

fav color is periwinkle

enjoys ASMR, mostly in the mornings when she’s waking up. You know how people love podcasts? (Sorry seb & Nicky, she still wants to be on the show soon!) ASMR is her thing

loves tangerines, you can count on it that she’ll have one on her, “where did you pull that from?” “I’ll never share my master plan.” “You’re such a tit.”

Definitely prefers “fresh squeezed” orange juice & will make her own, she has the tools & the strength 😏

Very rare for her to get sick ;) & if she does she’s a complete baby about it

Will fight that she’s sick before she admits it, trying all sorts of horrid remedies & vitamins

loves summer & all things that come with it, the number one thing is leaving bath for however long she can for a new place to enjoy

when she arrived to love island, she was thrilled for the weather. Yes she was looking for love but most importantly a nice get away & that it was (depending on your route that is lol)

closest with seb, vieve, elladine, and tai but don’t tell the others that! (She doesn’t care if you tell Yasmin, honestly)

just because her & seb “dated” and it didn’t work out doesn’t mean they can’t be friends right? It was almost automatic for them to be platonic after it was determined there would be no romance between them, almost like sibs! like those celebs like to say—except this time these two won’t turn around and actually find romance

vieve came with seb so...but no shade aj did like vieve. She gave great advice (while seb sometimes didn’t say the right things unintentionally or what aj needed to hear) when needed, especially from a medical view and is very sweet

elladine was the one who had all the tea & ideas to match, she’s quite organized and always down for DIY’s and could suggest almost anything. If you needed someone to help you get things tidy or match/find your Aesthetic, she’s the friend you call to help

tai was the one she could be a “bro” with, sure elladine has her competive side (or controlling, depends on how you view it) but tai was the one you can run to for much needed “bro hugs”, partying, going to the pubs, playing sports with or against, checking out/flirting with babes, etc...

it was not long after the villa that aj had a revelation with her sexuality & fully owned and labeled herself as a lesbian

She was happy being in relationship with someone else or with herself, life was short and she was young so there wasn’t time to dwell and stress over things so what the hell?! Live your truth the best way you know how ya know?

probably smells like sweet citrus, almond flower, and sea salt

on chest days, she’s a sweets snacker. Loves gummy bears (also with vodka) , swedish fish, sour patch kids, etc...basically shit that sticks to ur teeth

put all her chips into hockey, while it was advised by her Counselors & mum not to do so, aj went about it anyway. She thought about the pros and cons but knew there was nothing else for her. So there were more pros than cons. She was meant to play sports, its what felt right in her soul

Made her feel connected to her father, when she’s on the field she feels that he is with her

 scrunches up her nose when she’s frustrated or confused about something

Doesn’t always grasp concepts right away, she’s a soft dummy but most of us are and that’s okay! We’re all smart in our own ways

Feels like sunflowers are always around her especially if she sees them wherever she is. They must symbolize SOMETHING, therefore she loves them

spf queen. All about it, get with it or let the sunrays ruin ur skin that’s on u

loves a good filet mignon medium-well & is probably the only good thing she knows how to make alongside a salad, baked potatoes, & her oj

sucker for romantic-comedies...it’s basically her life duh!

If she has a dog, it’s a Dalmatian or Great Dane. She needs a companion that’ll keep up with her

loves kissing, it’s her favorite form of intimacy

Quarantine life included the push up challenge for her. Gaining a few pounds in muscle and fat, bothering seb via ft, viewing old letters she wrote to her dad, spending time with her fav ladies since they were now restricted from having guests in their home, and letting boredom consume her + she hated the whole lockdown that came with it, she hated being indoors for long periods of time but she knew that’s what partly needed to be done

Posts a lot of beach, park, outings with her friends & team, moments with her fav ladies, workout videos, and guests at the b&b with their permission and if only she befriends them along the way. She’s just as active on the socials as she is in rl but she’s not obsessed with it, she knows how to live in the now. She’s all about balance!

I also feel like she never keeps her phone charged and it’s always dying on her! She had a car charger but...that’s a jungle. She needs to invest in a portable charger stat

crushing on/finds attractive: Jared Padalecki, Keanu Reeves, Barrett Doss, Camilla Luddington, Sandra Bullock, Adrian Kempe, Harry Kirton, Anya Taylor-Joy, Haley Lu Richardson, Naomi Osaka, Ming & Aoki Lee Simmons

who does she listen to? Shakira lol!! Bea Miller, Dua Lipa, Daya, XYLØ, Elley Duhé, Stela Cole, Aloe Blacc, Maroon 5, Lewis capaldi, Charlie Puth, girl in red, Hayley kiyoko, king princess, dodie, & tessa violet

Anthem: Icona Pop — we got the world

[shirtlesssammy]

15x14: Last Holiday

Then:

March was so long ago

Now:

Sam’s doing research, Dean’s making burgers, Jack is hitting his existential saving the world phase, and the bunker is falling to pieces.

The brothers head to the basement to investigate the failing plumbing. They find the bunker “grid control center thing thingy”. I believe that is the technical term. Dean decides to channel his inner Sam Wesson and turn it off and on again. And it seems to work! 

Good job, Meat Man!

He heads to his bedroom with his victory beer and burger, only to be surprised by a kindly looking woman folding his Scooby-doo underthings. 

They find out the woman is named--well, she’s called Mrs. Butters. She’s a wood nymph. She lives in the bunker and helps the Men of Letters. She cleans, does laundry, cooks, and reinforces mid-century misogynistic stereotypes, you know, the usual. 

The brothers find out that she thinks it’s the year 1958. Dean breaks the news that it’s actually 2020. (From a 1958 perspective, 2020 seems SO FAR in the future. WTF?) Mrs. Butters is confused and horrified. She asks about the Men of Letters she cared for. They’re all dead, Dean informs her. 

“That’s why they didn’t come back,” she responds. It seems that when the Men of Letters never came back from the ceremony, she placed the bunker and herself in standby mode. Mrs. Butters is upset at learning about the passage of time, but instantly jumps into caretaker mode, noting it’s been an age since they’ve had a home cooked meal or celebrated the holidays (she also seems to think that they don’t wash their clothes, but I can’t imagine either Sam OR Dean as anything but mostly clean.)

She then activates her magic to bring the bunker to full power. The monster radar on the map table starts chirping. 

Dean’s super excited about the new development, but Sam is a bit skeptical. Dean assures Sam it’s ok, and if it’s not, they’ll deal with it. They decide to head out on a vamp hunt, but Dean tells Jack (through his door) that they have a guest and she’s making snickerdoodles. 

During Sam and Dean’s Impala broment, Sam wonders if it’s the best idea to have Mrs. Butters in the bunker. Dean doesn’t see the problem. “Ignoring your trauma doesn’t make you healthy,” Sam points out. (F U C K --i am ded) 

Mrs. Butters makes Jack a sandwich. 

Meanwhile, two vamps living the Big Swig life are quickly dispatched by Sam and Dean Winchester. (Note: They were drinking blood from blood bags, not from people. Were they really that bad? What happened to the gray area of hunting, SAM???? I only say this because I think this is highlighting the true evil of the Men of Letters...and Sam and Dean, super excited for their own toys for once, don’t stop to think about their actions.) 

They come home to find the bunker decked out for the Christmas season. (HEARTS to the map table with a giant tree and train set.) Mrs. Butters even made cookies. JOY TO THE WORLD INDEED!

Breakfast in the bunker brings a skeptical Sam, a millennial Jack (I think he’s really a zennial?), and a nightshirt adorned Dean ready for breakfast made by Mrs. Butters. 

(Dean’s nightshirt gag was funny as a cartoon, but less funny as the promos rolled out, and just fell flat during the episode itself.) Mrs. Butters wonders what Jack is, and then hands him a magic smoothie. 

Suddenly the bunker alarm goes off and Dean’s in Ghostbuster mode. “We got one!” Dean exclaims and the brothers head out on a lamia hunt. 

Jack stays behind to drink smoothies and help Mrs. Butters with the dishes. 

Mrs. Butters asks about Jack’s dad, Lucifer, but Jack only tells her about his family --Sam, Dean, Cas, and….Mary. He confesses to killing her. Mrs. Butters’ response is GOLD. She appears to sympathize with Jack. She tells Jack that life gives us second chances, and then offers him another magic smoothie. 

HUNTING AND HOLIDAY MONTAGE ALERT

Later, while drinking another smoothie, Jack finds Mrs. Butters rifling through some files in the library. He then heads to investigate what she was looking at. In the drawers he finds an old file on Mrs. Butters, and a film reel.

The film reel shows a smug Cuthbert Sinclair recounting the recovery of a wood nymph from a Thule (Nazi) laboratory. Our domestic, smiling Mrs. B was responsible for the deaths of at least two hundred Nazi soldiers before she was restrained. Apparently wood nymphs are docile until their home and family are threatened. Cuthbert introduces Mrs. B in the reel: she’s “agreed” to join the Men of Letters for “service and security.” She then proceeds to rip the head off a bound Nazi and offer up tea and cookies. Jack recoils in horror. 

Jack runs to warn Sam, but Mrs. B reveals that Sam is getting ready for a hot date. WITH EILEEN!!! Sam comes out, dressed to the nines in a collared shirt, tie, SWEATER VEST, and nice coat. Good lord, Sam! <3

Mrs. B drops a quick fact on Dean: she fixed his broken TV. Dean’s eyes light up. The DEAN CAVE IS OPERATIONAL! This is sufficient distraction for Dean. 

As Dean runs off, a concerned Jack decides to follow Mrs. B down to the demon dungeon. He confronts her with the film reel evidence. “How did it make you feel?” she asks him, not at all surprised that he’s found her out. She thinks he enjoyed watching the agony on screen, and that he’s a danger to Sam and Dean.

Jack protests that he would never hurt the Winchesters and we get an extremely close up shot of a distraught Mrs. B asking Jack if he thinks they keep him locked up to keep other people safe. (I imagine Mrs. B asking, “Is getting locked up to keep the world safe a normal thing? Asking for a friend.”) She mojo-chucks Jack against a wall! He’s as weak as a puppy and fails to fight back.

She smiles at him. All those smoothies were full of nephilim-depowering goodness, chock full of vitamins, arrowroot, and JAWBONE. She’s going to rid the world of all monsters, starting with the ones in the bunker.

She greets Dean in the kitchen with a fresh grilled cheese sandwich. “You’ll need your strength so we can go kill Jack,” she tells him calmly.

“Damn it,” Dean bursts out when she pulls out the archangel blade. “We had a good thing going but of course you had to go full Nurse Ratched.” He suggests an alternative plan: free Jack and continue their blissful new cohabitation as one big happy family. Cut to a little while later - and Dean winds up locked up alongside Jack.

Mrs. B greets Sam when he gets home and gives him the quick summary: Jack’s controlling Dean’s mind and she has them both trapped so they can be killed. How efficient! Sam plays along enough that I don’t notice in the first viewing that he’s shed his tie and unbuttoned that collar after that date! 

Back in Sam’s room, he calls Dean who is...still trapped in the room with Jack. WITH his phone. I guess Mrs. B doesn’t understand cell phones? Also, Dean didn’t call to give Sam a head’s up so he could enjoy his date. Dean Bean, the support is nice to see. What a hopeless ROMANTIC, though.

The Winchesters have gotta take out Mrs. B, and both admit that they just never quite got around to researching HOW. I mean, there was Christmas and Thanksgiving and BOXING DAY breakfast… Dean tells Sam to start with the console in the boiler room while he and Jack try to escape. 

Jack offers to use his power to escape. When Dean shoots down that plan, Jack proposes that Dean still thinks of him as a monster. Dean uses his words! He hasn’t forgotten what happened to Mary, and he still has some anger, but he’s not going to let Jack die!

Sam stalks Mrs. B through the bunker and when he finds her, he hilariously hides his gun behind his back. And reader, I…. I don’t know. I think that sweater vest is getting to me because I have gone full on Velma with this shot. LOOK AT THAT BIG LUG!

For Velma Heart Eyes Science:

Mrs. B traps Sam and offers to help him understand, the same way Cuthbert helped her to understand. And no, it’s not with snuggly kittens and cookies! Sam argues for Jack. He’s a kid who’s already undergone way too much trauma in his short life! (I agree!!!) Mrs. B does NOT agree with this assessment. Pulling from Cuthbert’s playbook, she pries a fingernail off of Sam. It’s gooey! There are sound effects! While re-watching this scene, I actually put my hand over my eyes. It’s fine! 

Dean tries to use the blade to hack the cuffs off of Jack, but his attempt is useless. He just blasts Jack against a wall instead. That gives him an idea, though. “Pain is just weakness leaving the body,” Dean counsels Jack, positioning him in front of the exit door. He hacks at the cuffs again, throwing Jack against - and through the door. Well…...ooookay.

Now free, Dean and Jack head for the console and hit the reset button. The bunker turns a worried red and Mrs. B corners the three of them in the library. She’s going to stop Jack and save them! Sam tells her that Cuthbert TORTURED her to bend her to the Men of Letters cause. She can’t kill Jack!

“He can save the world,” Dean tells her. The whole mission of the Men of Letters is to do just that! (No pressurrrrrrrre, Jack!) That’s the magic phrase for Mrs. B, though. She breaks down in tears, and relents. In the end, she still loves the Men of Letters she knew (even if she entered into it in an entirely awful way). 

A little while later, she’s healed Sam’s hand and bids them farewell. She longs for the forest. When she leaves, the magic of the bunker will be diminished once again. But that’s fine! Dean just needs a grill and a nice TV room to take his honey on a date, amirite? Also, Dean doesn’t need fancy map tables and “whatever that telescope thing is.”

“It’s an interdimensional geoscope,” she corrects him carefully. Dean protests: he looked through it recently and didn’t see anything! “That’s not good,” Mrs. B proclaims softly. I hand her the Understatement of the Year Award.

Mrs. B counsels Dean to eat his vegetables, Sam to cut his hair, and Jack...to save the world. She whooshes out.

Later, Sam tries to tease out Jack’s feelings. Jack’s worried. For a supposed god-killing machine, he was easily trapped. Dean interrupts this existential crisis by arriving in the library with a covered cake stand. Whipping off the cover, we see Dean’s made Jack A BIRTHDAY CAKE! They put a single candle in it because OMG Jack is just a little baby. 

Dobby the Quote Elf:

We fought the devil. I killed Hitler. I think we can handle a few old pipes

Meat man coming to town!

Ignoring your trauma doesn’t mean you’re healthy

We all do things we’re not proud of but life gives us second chances and it’s our obligation to hold onto them.

Somebody’s shopping at Ambercrombie and bitch

Tell you what we’re gonna do. We’ll go downstairs… We’ll let Jack go. Forget this ever happened

Dang it. Dang-- Damn-- Damn it!

I’ve already had one monster take my family from me. I won’t have it happen again

He loves that apron

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[finn-wolfhard]

I need me some quality content and this is the best place for it. Could I get some being Steve's sister and dating Robin? (If that already exists somewhere then please direct me to it bc this idea is like crack to me) Thanks!!

Yo! I've just gotten back into Tumblr since quarantine has given me an abundance of time. I can guess that you ended up getting this elsewhere, anon, but for the folk who also want to read about wlw Robin B and Big Bro Steve - this ones for you! 

Enjoy x

I Do 

“Turn that shit down! GOD! I feel I’m listening to them in concert.” Steve was screaming from downstairs for me to turn my music down and before I could move an inch to do so, he barged through the door. “Look, I don’t want another complaint from Mrs. Fritz next door. Can you please turn it down. I promised mom and dad that the roof would still be on this place by the time they got home. I’m heading to work. The money for delivery is on the table. Just try not to get yourself into bother, OK?” 

“Yeah, sure, sorry Steve. What time will you be home?” our parents are both out of town on business and so Steve has been appointed man of the house. Last time we were left alone, Mrs. Fritz called the police on us, placing a noise complaint. It was just me playing my radio a little bit too loud in my room. My bedroom window is right next to her living room. 

“I’ll be home around 8. Do you want to wait till I’m home to order pizza?”

“Sure thing, dude” I answered, giving him a thumbs up and a grin.

“You’re a goof. I’ll see you at 8.”

Steve and I’s relationship is reasonably good for the average brother and sister. He’s a year older than me and has the same interests. Such as; Hair, Pizza, our looks, and girls. I’ve known I’ve been into girls since I was a little kid but dad would kill me if I ever brought a girl home. Mom would be a little more understanding, yet still against the idea - and I don’t even know how Steve would react if he found out. I think he’s the only person I’d be fully comfortable telling, but I don't want to risk it going the complete opposite way.

I hear the door slam and decide to get out of my pajamas and actually DO something today. The schools broke up for summer last week and all I’ve been doing is reading, listening to music, and waiting for my best friend Jennifer to get home from vacation and tell me all about it. She’s due home in three days. I finally muster up enough self-motivation to move from my cozy, pink bed to the bathroom. The cold tiles under my feet wake me up and I stare at myself in the mirror for a bit. I had managed to grow a little spot just below my hairline (which I quickly treated with zit cream) but that was about as far as the flaws went. I usually take good care of myself; drinking enough, taking my vitamins, brushing my teeth after every meal. I do care about my looks and I shouldn’t be ashamed of that. It helps gets me a lot of attention in school, and I’ve never been an outcast. I guess having Steve as a big brother does contribute to the high school fame, but I don’t let it get to me much. I'm just glad I’ve gotten through high-school without being bullied at least once. I looked at my scraggly hair. I had just had a perm done two weeks ago and it seemed to be holding up pretty well. I scrunched my hair to make it look nice and messed it up a bit to give it volume. 

In the kitchen, there was the money on the table, like Steve said, and a note next to it. 

Save me a slice! Steve :)

He must’ve written the note then realized that a slice won't suffice after a long shift at his dorky Scoops Ahoy! job, and asked me to wait up for him. It's a shame people don’t get to see this side of Steve and I. I know how we come across to other people. I’ve heard the odd remark here and there about how he’s a player and I’m a priss. It mostly comes from the social outcasts in the school, the ones who aren’t in our friend circles, and don’t get to see what we’re really like. Even then, our school personalities are a bit of a performance to uphold our popularity. Only Steve knows my real self and vice verses, and we both understand why it has to be like that. Its an unspoken rule type thing. 

I open the fridge and get some milk for cereal. I pour a bowl of Fruity Pebbles. Fred smiles at me from the box as I grab the phone off the wall and dial Amanda’s number. 

“Hey Mands, you want to go to the mall today”

“y/n! Hi! That sounds great. I need a new outfit for my date with Justin on Friday.”

“Cool, so, 12? That sound ok?”

We agreed on 12:30 (since she had to take her dog on a walk) and she suggested we meet outside the Gap. Soon enough, 12:30 rolls around and I see Amanda smiling wildly at me, where she said she'd be, outside the Gap. She sweeps me into a warm hug and we gush about how much we’ve missed each other since school broke up. 

“Ok, so I need to go to Claires to get some earrings.” I agree to help her find a pair that would, quote “make Justin harder than math.” I don’t really understand how a pair of earrings could do this to a guy, or even if guys pay attention to earrings at all, but I was open to being proved wrong. We start making our way to the stairs when Amanda realizes she’s suddenly craving ice cream. I put it down to the fact that there were Scoops Ahoy! Adverts on every trash can (I’m unsure if that is a sign or not). We make a detour to Steve’s work and I make a plan to pull a few strings to get a free cone or two. We enter the ice cream parlor and… Steve isn’t there. Instead, a girl with short blonde hair is serving the queue of customers. 

I squint at her, trying to remember her name. Rosie? No, that's not it. It begins with an R for definite. Its to do with an animal… a R-R-Robin! Her name is Robin. And she’s…pretty? Like, really pretty. And not very girly? I can’t tell since she’s wearing a silly uniform… but god, is she pretty. 

As I’m staring at her, a slew of slurs come racing into my mind. Slurs I panicked were being shouted at me down the halls but never were. They were always aimed…at her. At Robin. Words beginning with D and F that make my blood boil. Chip, A boy in my own friend group, muttering “Stay away from my sister, homo!” In class. I put a hand up to my mouth to hide a gasp. This girl was outed, by someone she thought was her friend from band, in Hawkins - which isn’t known for being the most accommodating and accepting town.

Amanda and I reach the front of the queue and I find myself unable to look directly at the girl serving me. 

“Hi! Welcome to Scoops Ahoy! What can I get you today?” She seemed overly enthusiastic for some reason. 

“Hi, is Steve here?” I say, breaking the awkwardness I had built up in my own mind. She looked away, disheartened? I couldn’t tell. 

“Steve, your sisters here” then she whispered something that sounded like “you can leave your little nerd friend to figure it out for a bit” but I wasn’t really sure. 

Steve appeared from around the corner.

“what do you want, squirt?” 

“2 sundaes please” I replied, smiling.

“that will be five dollars pleas-“

“STEVE! Can’t you gift your baby sister with a sundae for once?” I cut him off, appalled that he’s making me pay, but still keeping it lighthearted. 

“…fine. But only this ONE TIME” he shot back. I winked at him, thanked him, and waited for him to finish our sundaes. He brought them over and sat with us. 

“Who’s that girl?” I instantly questioned, trying not to sound too interested but failing miserably.

“Oh, that's Robin Buckley. She’s in your year at school, don’t you know her?” I do know her. But I don’t want to admit that yet, I want to play it cool.

“I think I’ve seen her around yeah, I’ve just never had a good look at her before. I think she’s in my social studies class?” I look to Amanda to ask this question but Amanda is already nodding by this point. Steve looks unconvinced. 

“well, I invited her for pizza tonight,” he said, not wanting to ask ‘is that ok?’ In front of Amanda to keep up his macho ‘I’m Steve Harrington’ persona. I glance over at Robin. By this time, she’s known as lovely Robin in my head. Not that I could help it, along with the butterflies in my stomach or the extreme excitement that she was going to be having dinner. With me. In my house. Tonight!… What am I doing? Get a grip of yourself! You’re not out - as if that is ever going to happen anyways - and Robin was coming for Steve. Of course she was. I mentally roll my eyes. Just my luck.

The rest of the day goes by pretty quickly. Amanda gets her outfit and ‘math’ earrings - which I still don’t understand - and I get a few cute t-shirts and skirts thanks to my allowance mom gave me before she went away. By the time I get home, it is 4 pm which means I have precisely 4 hours to get myself ready for tonight. I go to my room, read for a bit, then put my makeup on in my vanity mirror. I don’t want to mess this up, but then again, why am I caring so much?. I eventually get myself sorted and wait for 8 pm to roll around. At 7:45 I phone Hal’s Pizza Shop and order 2 pepperoni pizzas and 1 plain Margherita. I came to the decision that If Robin is vegetarian then she can have the just cheese, but if not, I’ll take it.  

I hear Steve’s key in the lock and he shouts to me from downstairs.

“Hey that's me back, y/n, did you order the pizza?” 

“Sure did!” I came to the top of the stairs and looked down at the front door. Robin was staring up at me and I couldn’t help staring at her back. Steve obviously missed this whole exchange of tension.

“Good! Because I’m starving. I’m gonna put a video on, anyone down for watching Indiana Jones?” He mimics a whipping sound and runs off to the living room, leaving Robin and me to awkwardly start a conversation. 

“So, you work with Steve. I’ll apologize on your employer's behalf.” I laugh, eventually. Robin looked relieved that I had said something, and even more so that it was a joke. 

“It's not as bad as you would think, he brings in loads of customers with that ‘magnificent hair’” she replies, making fun of Steve’s obsession with his, admittedly, perfect mane. 

“I’ve seen you about school before, sorry I’ve never talked to you before,” I said. I really meant it, she seems cool. And kinda hot? But that wasn’t important to me…

“Yeah, I guess our groups don’t tend to mix as much. I'm surprised you even know my name” she looks at her feet. She knows I know about the slurs and bullying, I can tell. Just then, there's a ring at the door and Steve reappears, running to get the door that we are standing 2 inches away from. 

After sitting, eating, chatting, and laughing our way through Indiana Jones, I realise Steve has fallen asleep beside me. So does Robin. We both snicker at him and then collectively tuck him in with the blankets on the back of the sofa. We sit in silence for a minute. 

“Robin. I want to say I'm sorry for all the stuff you get called at school. It's not cool and especially from my group-“

“it's fine” she cuts me off. She seems distant though. 

“I don’t think you understand what it does to me hearing people shout words like that at someone. It's inhuman,” Robin looks at me over her cup of hot chocolate Steve made us halfway through the movie. She looks on the verge of tears. “I mean, I don’t know how I would cope with that if people knew I was one too.” I look away from her confused stare in embarrassment. Robin is the first person I tell this massive secret to and I've only been in her company for the past 3 hours? But it felt right. It felt too right, almost.

Robin picks herself up from her space in the armchair and comes to sit on the arm of the sofa. She doesn’t hesitate to put her arm around my shoulders and squeeze me in for a side hug. I hadn’t realized that I had started to cry and I wipe my eyes and nose with the back of my hand. 

“I’m so sorry they said those things to you” I whispered while silently sobbing.

“Don’t worry about it, y/n, I have pretty thick skin when it comes to bullying. I've been in band for the past 3 years,” I look at her and let out a small laugh. The smile fades from her lips and a serious look takes over her face. “You don’t need to feel ashamed. Or embarrassed. I’m honored you told me, I know how much trust that takes. Thank you.” 

We sit embracing for a couple of minutes and I try to defuse the tension. “You know, I think you’re pretty hot.” She laughs, and I can feel the heat radiating off of her. She’s blushing. 

“You’re not too bad yourself, Harrington,” she gives me a small smile. “I think you’re the prettiest girl in our year.” Now it was my turn to blush. I’m not sure if she’s saying this out of courtesy, sympathy, or if she really means it. 

“You don't have to say that” I roll my eyes and let out an embarrassed giggle. 

“I do.” She whispers back, the darkness multiplying the tension by 10. After a while of nervous silence, not sure what to say next, Robin asks you a question.

“I hope I’m not out of line for saying this, and you can one hundred percent say no,” I looked at her, questioningly, “but why don’t we go out sometime? We can go to the park or we can go to the cinema. Your choice… if you want-if you want to.” She was visibly nervous. In the pitch black, with only the dim glow from the paused movie TV static lighting up the room, I agreed to go on a date with her (”I’d like that”). We both can tell the other is excited but can also tell the other is exhausted. Robin moves back over to the armchair, which was just big enough for a teenage girl to curl up in, and I curl up to my sound asleep brother. It takes a while to finally get to sleep, but I can’t help my mind doing laps, thinking about my future date with Robin Buckley. 

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 75

Warnings: none

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​

Koen arrives shortly before ten in the evening. A paper bag full of bottles of booze under one arm and a tattered and weathered backpack slung over the other; looking slightly worse for wear, even for him. He’s always been dishevelled and unkempt at best, but the pace and the intensity of the job has taken its toll on him; his beard thicker and and boasting more strands of gray, his face and body remarkably thinner and marred by both old and fresh bumps, bruises and contusions that will definitely scar. But that old familiar glitter is still in his eyes; the one that speaks of mischievousness and trouble and gives away his quick and sometimes cutting tongue before he even opens his mouth. The last three weeks have been hell on everyone involved; physically AND mentally. Bodies being consumed by near constant pain, little sleep and poor diet while their brains are subjected to fear, stress, and the overwhelming worth that comes each step out the door and onto the street.

But it’s almost over; the finish line finally in sight. With the list complete, only Mahajan himself and Asif’s people remain; the latter extra hurdles they never expected to confront. No one ever stopped to consider that Mahajan’s reach extended further than India, or that anyone would be able to get to Neysa and Aarav. Nathan is nothing more than a ‘tag along’; extra weight that has to be carried. And his true involvement and whether or not he IS the mole, is yet to be determined. To an untrained eye, it would be easy to see Nathan as another victim; the multitude of injuries and the defiance caught on video. But there’s too many unanswered questions to just let him off the hook. Too much suspicion and things that can’t be explained revolving around his disappearance and sudden reappearance, and it would be foolish -and possibly deadly- to let your guard down around him.

“Am I ever fucking glad to see your ugly face,” Koen says, as he sets both bags down on the kitchen table and then tightly embraces Tyler.

This isn’t one of his usual hugs. It’s warm and genuine; filled with enormous relief and a little gratitude that they've both survived long enough to get a moment like this. And when he pulls away -holding Tyler at arms length, a hand coming up to clasp him on the back of the head before tightly cupping it- there’s something even more unfamiliar in his eyes: a shimmer of tears and honest, pure affection. Normally Tyler would jump on it and rib his old friend about something like that; in the same way Koen would do to him if the situation was reversed. But now is not the time. The last three weeks have felt like three years; everyone involved is exhausted and hurting and relying on nothing more than adrenaline -the hope of it all sending soon- to keep them going. And there’s the strong possibility that someone -or more than one person, even- won’t make it out alive. The realization that the person standing in front of you might not survive and this could very well be the last time you ever see them.

“You good?” Koen ruffles the hair at the back of Tyler’s head. “How you feeling? You sure look a hell of a lot better than the last time I saw you.”

“I’m alright, I guess. Could be better, could be worse.”

“What’s the pain like? That guy fucked you up pretty good.”

“I’ve had worse.” It’s not entirely a lie. When he’d woken in the hospital seven years ago, the agony had been intense; there hadn’t been a single inch of his body that hadn’t hurt. Since then he’s lived in chronic pain. Some days he’s able to manage and others he can barely get out of bed in the morning. This is a new level of discomfort; increasing and worsening mobility issues, the pins and needles in his right hand, the need for more and more meds to just take the edge off.

“Well you look good. Hell of a lot better than the last time I was with you. Which doesn’t take much, considering you were covered in your own puke and piss and I had to undress you and toss you in the shower.”

Tyler smirks. “I remember when that used to be a sign of a really awesome Friday night.”

Koen cracks a grin at that. “We’re both getting way too old for that shit. And you’ve past it, thank Christ. I honestly thought one day I’d show up at your place and find you dead. About time you smartened the hell up and got your shit together.”

“Guess all I needed was a kick in the ass.”

“A kick in the ass from the right person, you mean. ‘Cause I spent years kicking you in the ass and it did nothing but make you worse. I guess the kick had to come from a hot little brunette to have any effect on you.”

“Yeah…” Tyler grins. “...I guess it did.”

“Can’t say I blame you. She’d be all the motivation I’d need, too. Figure we should be both thanking our lucky stars that she came around when she did. Had it even been a couple months later…”

“Trust me; every day I’m grateful for that. Every goddamn day. For the past seven years.”

“Good. Because you should be. Because even though you were a fucking wreck, she stuck around. She could have easily taken one look at you and thought ‘damaged goods’ and hauled ass on out of there. And to be honest, I wouldn’t have blamed her. You were a lot to handle. She must be made of tough stuff, because she wasn’t afraid of your shut or to put a foot up your ass.

“She’s still not afraid of that. And she is. Tough. Strong. A lot stronger than she gives herself credit for.”

“That’s exactly what you need,” Koen declares. “A strong woman. Someone to challenge you and to keep challenging you. Although I do question her sanity. No one in their right mind would hook up with the likes of your sorry ass.”

“I lost my sanity a long time ago,” Esme says, as she descends the stairs. “Why do you think I have five kids? Do you think anyone with a shred of sanity left would do that to themselves?”

“I thought it was because he couldn’t stay off ya and you don’t know the word ‘no’.”

“I admit, it IS hard. He’s devastatingly handsome and can be very persuasive.”

“Devastatingly handsome?” Koen scoffs. “Sweetheart, you are blind as shit. How’s it going, kiddo?” He embraces Esme warmly, then presses a kiss to each cheek. “Looking lovely, as always.”

“Now who’s blind as shit? I look like the offspring of a dumpster fire and a train wreck. But I appreciate you trying to feed my ego.”

“Don’t even argue with her,” Tyler says. “For every good thing you bring up, she’s got five bad things that exist only in her own mind.”

Esme sighs. “In case you haven’t noticed, Tyler is either completely blind, or totally biased. Koen, if your wife asked you if she looked like a mess...and not a hot one...would tell the truth?”

“Telling the truth is the reason I have so many ex wives. But in all fairness, my ex wives WERE messed. Had any of them looked like you, I’d probably still be married and the happiest sonofabitch on the planet. Now tell me…” he slings an arm across her shoulders and pulls her into his side. “...he been treating you right? Because if he hasn’t…”

“He’s been a complete gentleman. Except for the times I don’t want him to be. And those are X rated and not for your precious little ears, so…” she presses a kiss to his cheek, then moves towards the fridge.

“I do not need to know about all the kinky shit you two do. You been keeping him in line? Making sure he pulls his weight? Because you tell me just one bad word, and…”

“He’s been amazing. Even more amazing than usual. Sorry, Koen; I’m not leaving him for you. Not yet anyway.”

“So you’re saying there’s a chance?” He grins, then nudges Tyler with his elbow. “You into sharing, mate?”

He scowls. “Fuck you. That’s my wife. What’s wrong with you?”

“Remember that one girl in Melbourne? About twelve years ago? The blond with the big…”

“There’s a woman in the room!” Esme pipes up, and snags a vitamin water from the fridge. “I do not need to hear these things.”

“You didn’t mind sharing her,” Koen points out.

“That was a random at a bar. That…” Tyler nods in Esme’s direction. “...is my wife. The mother of my kids. I don’t share. Not when it comes to her.”

“As much as I’d love to stay down here and listen to raunchy and disturbing stories from my husband’s sexual past, I have a bubble bath calling my name,” Esme says. “And quite frankly, I prefer to pretend he was somewhat innocent and virginal when we met.”

Koen snorts. “There’s been nothing innocent or virginal about him since he was about fourteen.”

She frowns. “I’m ignoring you now. I’m turning my ears off. Because I do not need to hear or know about these things. I’m going to go upstairs and pamper myself and do girly shit and you two can stay down here and talk about your sexual conquests. But I swear to God, if my ears start to burn, I will beat the hell out of both of you.”

“I would never do that,” Tyler assured her. “Talk about you like that.”

“He lies,” Koen speaks up. “He talks about you like that all the time. The things I know about you…”

“Fuck off,” Tyler snarls. “I’ve never talked about her like that with you. That’s wishful thinking on your part.”

“I’m just warning you both.” She places a hand on her husband’s hip, standing on her tiptoes as he leans down to press a soft, brief kiss to her lips. “I am in no mood for fuckery.”

“What are you in the mood for?” Koen quips, the mischievous glitter back in his eyes as he bounces up and down on his heels. “I hear chubby, balding guys can really get shit done.”

Tyler glares at him, then slaps him upside the head. “What the fuck is wrong with you? That’s my wife.”

“Sorry Grandpa Koen,” Esme smirks. “I’m a one man woman.”

“Grandpa Koen?” He feigns insults, a hand clasped over his heart. “That’s harsh. Why do you have to break a bloke’s heart like that?”

She grinning over her shoulder as she climbs the stairs. “Goodnight, boys.”

****

Two hours and a bottle and a half of scotch later, they sit at the kitchen table, reminiscing on days long past. Military missions served together and the camaraderie and the rare laughs and lighthearted moments while overseas. Hiking and camping and hunting trips that they’ve taken -along with Rata- and the handful of times they’d simply packed up and travelled for weeks on end; nothing where they ended up or how they got there.

He was nineteen when he first met Koen; fresh out of basic training, too cocky for his own good, and in desperate need of an attitude adjustment and real experience to knock the chip off his shoulder. Koen had been a staff sergeant then; already grizzled and combat weary and sick of the ‘little shits’ like Tyler that passed his way; the ones with their heads shoved up their own asses, who thought they were something special for getting through training in one piece. Koen had made it his personal mission to make his life as miserable as possible; treating him lower than dirty in order to rid him of what Koen had called ‘pukey personality’. He’d seen something in that nineteen year old kid; the promise of becoming a damn good soldier. And it had worked; all the physical and mental punishment completely broke him; transitioning him into someone he no longer recognized. It had unknowingly led to the worsening of some things; the toxic masculinity that had been beaten into him thanks to his old man, and a propensity to drink way too heavily. Being that good of a soldier...as nothing more than a killing machine in his eyes...had made him feel invincible; each successful tour leaving him feeling ten feet tall and bulletproof. And had eventually led him to the job and that sick and twisted desire to seek out one suicide mission after another.

“You alright?” Koen asks, as he pours himself another drink. “You got a little quiet on me there.”

“I’m alright,” Tyler confirms, and runs a palm along the side of his glass. It’s only his second of the night. Starting off by promising to pace himself; not wanting to drink too much considering the amount of painkillers -well beyond the prescribed amount- he’s been taking. But he’d quickly realized it was more than that. He simply didn’t enjoy it anymore; all the cravings and the need and the taste for it somehow disappearing since the incident a week and a half ago.

“You sure? Haven’t seen you look THAT serious in a long time. What’s going on?”

“I need you to do me a favor.”

“Sounds intense.”

“About as intense as it gets.”

Koen sips his drink. “What’s it about?”

Tyler pushes his glass aside and reaches into the side pocket of his cargo shorts. Pulling out a handwritten letter -two pages long- sealed in an envelope. And he issues a heavy, shaky sigh and offers it to his friend.

Koen’s eyes narrow. “What the hell is this?”

“If anything happens to me, you have to give this to Esme. I need her to read it. She HAS to read it.”

“Fuck you, Tyler,” the older man snarls. “I’m not taking no death letter.”

“You have to. You NEED to. If anything happens to me…”

“Stop talking that shit. I won’t listen to it. I won’t…”

“I need you to fucking do this!” he snaps, then roughly grabs his friend’s hand and shoves the letter into it. “She needs to read it. And I need you to give it to her. You keep it and if anything happens to me, you make sure she gets it. This is important to me, okay? I need her to read it. And I need you to promise me that you’ll make sure she does.”

“Why wait? Why wait until it’s too late? Why not tell her these things now? So she knows. Wouldn’t you rather she knows before? Why the fuck…?”

“She knows. She knows I love her. She knows I love her with everything I am and everything I have. But there’s things in there I can’t say. Or I feel like I can’t say properly. And I NEED her to know those things. If something happens to me, it’s important she knows. I need you to do this.”

Koen downs half of his drink and then stands up, reluctantly sliding the envelope into the back pocket of his jeans. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that? The things I don’t fucking do for you. Taking a goddamn death letter.”

“Just promise you’ll give it to her. If I don’t make it out of here, promise me you’ll make sure she gets that. You have no idea how important it is to me.”

“I’ll make sure. What about your kids? They might like something from their daddy. You know...if…”

“I already did something for them. A video. Ovi has it. He’ll make sure they see it. And that Addie will watch when she’s old enough to understand.” It’s on the tip of his tongue to tell him about the new baby, but mere though of it...the realization that he could leave a pregnant wife behind and there’d be a child he’d never get to see- is just too fucking painful. Ovi knows; he’d made the kid take a vow of secrecy after telling him to make sure all the kids saw the video when they’re old enough. Even the one that’s still inside their mother’s belly.

“Well let’s hope she never has a reason to read it,” Koen says. “And that those kids never have to see that video. You do whatever it takes to get your ass out of there. Alive. And I’ll do whatever I have to on my end to make sure it happens. This isn’t it. It CAN’T be it. Not when you just found all of this. A wife and kids. A family. A REAL goddamn family. This can’t be it.”

“I sure as fuck hope it isn’t.” He doesn’t bother to hold back the tears that manage to escape; hot against his skin as they slip down the sides of his nose and his cheeks. His chest burns and aches. Not the kind of agony that comes with anxiety, but the suffering that comes with heartache and grief and tremendous loss. Not even the swallow of scotch -in an attempt to clear the lump of emotion from his throat- helps, and he places an elbow on the table and his palm against his forehead. Eyes closed as he struggles to keep it together.

“It’s alright,” Koen’s voice is surprisingly quiet and calm, and there’s an audible creak as he leans forward in his hair; hand both heavy and comforting against the back of Tyler’s head. “It’s alright now, son. It’s okay to be like this. You can be this way with me. I got you.”

“If it was just me, I wouldn’t give a shit,” his voice cracks with emotion as the tears continue to fall. “Seven years ago, I wouldn’t have cared if I made it out. But now I have her and I have my kids and I can’t...I can’t leave them. I’m not ready to leave them.”

“No one says you’re going to. It’s not a sure thing. You’re a tough, stubborn bastard.”

“I don’t want to die. I don't want this life to be over. Before her, I was ready. I wanted to die; I wanted all the bullshit to be over. I hated my life and I hated myself and I didn’t fuck care if someone put a bullet in me. And I then I met here and everything changed. I changed. She didn’t look at me like I was a pathetic, cowardly piece of shit and she made me feel things I hadn’t felt in a long time and I never thought I’d feel again. And maybe it was wrong; how things happened, where they happened. But it felt right. For the first time in a long time, something felt right. Something felt good. It felt fucking amazing. And I should have pushed her way. I should have stopped it. But I didn’t. Because I didn’t want it to stop. I didn’t want to lose her.”

“It was a weird situation maybe,” Koen says. “But it doesn’t mean it was wrong. Look how things turned out. Look at the life you made. Together.”

“I don’t want that life to be over. I don’t want to leave her. Or my kids. I want to grow old and gray with her and I want to see my kids graduate high school and go to college and get married and have kids of their own. I want ALL of that. But I’m fucking terrified none of will happen. That when I left my kids this morning, that was it. That I’ll never see them again. That I won’t even get to see Addie take her first steps or celebrate her first birthday. There’s so much I don’t want to miss and I’m scared I will.”

“I know…” Koen’s fingertips dig into his scalp as he firmly massages it. “...I know…”

“Everything that is good in me is because of her. Because she found it and she brought it out. And she’s the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me. Her and those kids. And I’m not ready to leave them.”

“And you’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that doesn’t happen. And so will I on my end. I’ve got you. I’ll bust my ass to make sure you get back to your family. You hear me?”

“Yeah,” he nods, and uses his elbow to push his friend away. “I hear ya.”

“You good? You get it all out?”

“I think so. I guess I needed to do that; get it out.”

“You’ve been trying to hold it together for her,” Koen reasons, and returns to his seat. “But even guys like you need someone you can fall apart with. And I guess that someone is me; lucky bastard that I am.”

Tyler gives a small laugh, then uses the back of his hand to clear the remaining tears away. “There’s something else.”

“Jesus Christ. Are you trying to kill me?”

“Esme knows what she has to do; if something happens to me. She knows to take the money and the kids and leave. But I need someone to keep their eye on them. I need someone to make sure they’re okay. No matter where they end up. And I know this a hell of a lot to ask…”

“I’ll do it. You know I will.”

“Wherever they go, I need you to go with them. You don’t have to stay forever. Just until she’s doing alright and the kids are settled and doing okay. And if you could do that for me…”

“I already said I would. I’ll make sure they’re alright. Nothing will happen to them. Not on my watch,”

“But I swear to God, if you even think of making a move on her, I will come back and haunt your ass.”

Koen laughs at that, then reaches across the table to tousle Tyler’s hair. “You’re going to be okay, you hear me? You’re going to get out of this. You’re going to walk in there, get shit done, and you’re going to walk back out and go back to your family. And then all of this...all this talk...will have been for nothing.”

“I hope so,” Tyler says, and downs the remains of his drink. “I really fucking hope so.”

****

It’s just past one in the morning when he steps into the master bedroom, moving about it’s darkened confines with the aid of the moonlight. Removing the holster and gun from his hip and placing it in the top drawer of the nightstand, then slipping out of his shorts and t-shirt; tossing both on top of the open duffle bag that sits in front of the closet. And he briefly lingers at the side of the bed, listening to her soft breathing and watching as her body rises and falls with each inhale and exhale. Sound asleep; on her side with her back towards the door.

The pain in his chest and the knot in his stomach return with a vengeance; those thoughts of possibly never getting those moments with her again. He can’t get it out of his mind; how close he’d been to ending things only to find someone -when he hadn’t expected to- capable of snatching him off that ledge. Seven years. Spent with the person that saved him in every way a person can be saved. Who has proved time and time again that she loves every inch of him; all the good, all the bad, and everything in between. Every imperfection, every scar; both inside and out. Who taught him what it was to love again; to actually laugh and smile. And who has helped him make even more life; selflessly giving up her own body to do it.

How do you ever tell that person how you feel? Especially when you don’t think there’s words that can even come close to describing it?

Slipping into bed behind her, he presses his front to her back; lips in her hair as he trails his fingertips across her shoulder and slowly down her arm. Over the curve of her elbow and down to her wrist before moving along the top of her hand and then each finger. Memorizing every inch through touch; her skin soft and beautiful. Pressing a kiss to the back of her head when she pushes her fingers through his and tightly squeezes.

“What time is it?” she sleepily inquires.

“It’s late.”

“How late?”

“Just after one.”

“You been drinking?”

“Just had a couple,” he admits, then moves their joined hands down to her stomach. Smiling at the feel of that little bump. It’s smooth and it’s soft and even after four others, it’s incredible. The mere thought that there’s a living being in there. One that he had a hand in making. “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“I shouldn't have had any. Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic, yeah?”

“Honestly, I’m surprised you HAVEN’T drank. That you’ve fought as hard as you have. I wouldn’t have blamed you or thought less of you if you’d slipped. This has been hell on earth.”

“I don’t want to be that guy anymore. I NEVER want to be him again. You deserve better than that. So do our kids.”

“You’re a good man, Tyler Rake. Regardless of what you think about yourself sometimes. I knew it the moment I met you; that you weren’t like everyone else. It was in your eyes. There was this softness and this vulnerability and it was unlike anything I’d ever seen in any of the other mercs I’d come in contact with. You were different. I remember the first time we were here, and we’d have those long, serious talks that went into the early hours of the morning and I’d wonder how the hell someone like you ever got mixed up in a world like this.”

“Yeah, well we both know the reason behind that. I didn’t exactly hide it from you.”

“But you could have. And you didn’t. Right off the hop you were so honest and raw and it was...I don’t know it...it was beautiful.”

“Oh fuck...not THAT word.”

“It was, “ she insists. “It WAS beautiful. Because you were just so out there with everything. You didn’t hold anything back. There’s nothing you DIDN’T tell me. You told me about your mom and you dad. Your ex. Austin. You were just so breathtakingly real and honest and it was refreshing. To be with someone like that. Who didn’t try and pretend to be something he wasn’t. It was raw and it was emotional and I SAW you. And you let me see you. That was definitely not just two people using each other for sex. Now, had you just rolled over and gone to sleep…”

He laughs into her hair. “I never wanted THAT.”

“It was surprising. Not the things you told me, but the fact you told me at all. I didn’t expect that from you.”

“I didn’t expect that from myself,” Tyler admits.

“Why did you do it? Just open up like that?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just trusted you. Guess there was something about you that made me feel comfortable doing it. A lot of what I told you? No one else knows that stuff. Not even Koen. Guess my instincts told me you were good people. Very good people.”

“You thought you could scare me away didn’t you. When you told me about Austin. You thought that would make me think less of you.”

He nods.

“You made a mistake. You were younger and you were scared and you made a bad decision.”

“Worst possible decision.”

“It didn’t even come close to scaring me away. It made my heart hurt for you. And him. But it didn’t make me think less of you. I could never think less of you.”

“So no matter what, you’ll always think the sun shines out of my ass?”

She giggles. “Always.”

He raises his head to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth, then rests his cheek against hers. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“It’s okay. I hadn’t been sleeping for very long. I’m having a hard time. I miss the kids.”

“So do I. But Koen called and checked up on them for us. Everything’s fine. They’re happy and they’re safe and they haven’t beaten the shit out of each other. Yet.”

“Yet,” she laughs. “That’s the key word. And we both know who the one beating the shit out of people will be.”

“Yep. Your daughter has quite the temper.”

“She’s just my daughter now, is she? And who do you think she gets her temper from?”

“You.”

“Oh bullshit. She’s just like you and you know it. And you’re proud of it, too. Don’t even try and deny it. I know you how much like that fact that she’s your mini me.”

“She’s my baby. My first. Well, my first after...you know…”

“Your miracle baby.”

He smiles and places a kiss to her temple. “Exactly. She’s one that made me a dad again. Never thought in a million years I’d get another chance at that. And then she came along. I mean, you did have a little part to play in all of it.”

“Just a little. I only carried her for nine months. And then what happens? She comes out just like you. Even the nurse in the delivery room had to point it out; how she had your eyes and your nose and your ears and your hair. I was like, well fuck you too then.”

Tyler laughs and presses a kiss to her cheek.

“I remember when the nurse gave her to you and you just tucked her into you and she stopped crying and she just looked up at you with those huge eyes.”

“And I cried.”

“Yeah…” she smiles and tightens her hold on his hand. “...you cried. And it was beautiful. You were so happy that she was finally here. I think it was the happiest I’d ever seen you. It was like all the pain and all your past was just gone and your face was so soft and so perfect. Nothing existed outside of her. And you looked at her like you couldn’t believe she was even real.”

“She was beautiful. She still is.”

“I think at that moment...seeing you with her...I fell so in love with you. Even more than I already was. And it was kind of crazy and scary, because I already loved you a hell of a lot. I didn’t think it was possible to love someone THAT much. Sometimes I still don’t. I’ll watch you with Addie or playing with Declan or helping TJ and Tanner with their homework and I’ll think ‘God, I love him’.”

He grins against her ear. “And you have the nerve to call me sappy?”

“I can’t help it. I’m feeling all sappy and emotional. I think it’s the fact we’re back here. Of all places. It makes me think about us. How we started and where we’ve ended up. All good things. All very good things.”

“I was thinking about when I woke up in the hospital and you were there. How you were the first person I saw and I was so fucking relieved you were there. I didn’t know if you even made it off the bridge. And even if you did, if you’d stick around.”

“Of course I stuck around,” she releases her hold on his hand and rolls over onto her side to face him. “I went to all that trouble to keep you alive. You really think I wouldn’t stick around to see the result of my handiwork?”

“I guess not.” He presses a kiss to the tip of her nose then drapes a leg over her and places a hand on the small of her back.

“You okay?”

“I’m okay.”

“You’re worried, aren’t you. About tomorrow. Or today. About me going out there.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“You know how you always say you’re not a rookie? Well neither am I.”

“I know. But it doesn’t make me feel any better about it Especially when you have my baby in there.”

“I’ll be careful. I’ve had seven years of learning from the best. And Koen will be with me. He’ll make sure I’m okay.”

“He better. Or it’s his ass.”

“You have to trust me. I’d never do anything to put myself...or this baby...in harm’s way.”

“I do. I do trust you.”

“What if I can’t get the information? What if no one will give me any? Then we’re totally fucked. And not a good, fun way either.”

“If that happens, we go to plan B.”

“You let them know you’re here.”

Tyler nods.

“What’s plan C?””

“There is no plan C.”

“Maybe there should be. So we don’t have to rely on plan B.”

“Baby…” he skims his knuckles up and down her spine. “...we talked about this.”

“I’m allowed to change my mind And I’m changing it. That is NOT a good idea; letting them know you’re here. What ever happened to the element of surprise? It goes a long way. They want to lure you here, but they don’t need to know you’re here.”

“I’ll only go to plan B if you can’t get me information.”

“Okay…” Esme frowns. “...that is a lot of peer pressure. I haven’t done this in awhile. Since before Addie.”

“Addie’s only three months old. It’s not like she’s a year or a couple years.”

“So what? Ten months? Since I did this kind of thing? We found out about her during all of that.”

“Who’s the one that found out where Ovi was?”

“That took me four days.”

“It took Nik a week just to narrow down Dhaka,” he points out.

“Four days is horrible. My track record was way better than that before. Four days is embarrassing.”

“You’re too hard on yourself.”

“I should have had it in twenty four hours. Thirty six at the most.”

“I’m kind of glad it took as long as it did. I had a pretty good five days.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that much. It wasn’t a TOTAL failure. But four days? For me? That is shameful.”

“If it makes you feel better, it only took two from the day you showed up on my porch to convince me to sleep with you.”

“Oh, I had to convince you now, did I? You admitted you would have done it the first night had I wanted a booty call.”

“Well then you should be very proud of yourself. It only took you a couple hours to convince me to give it up.”

“Sorry if I don’t feel my ego inflated because you were horny and desperate.”

“Hey, if I’d been desperate, I would have fucked Nik.”

“That…” she scrapes her nails along his jaw and then taps a fingertip against his chin. “... is a very good point actually. I’m glad you held out an extra couple of days. I hope it was worth it.”

“It was SO worth it.”

“I was very impressed. When I see you naked. I had expectations.”

He arches an eyebrow. “You did?”

“I did. Very high ones, actually. You lived up to them. And then some. You definitely fit the old ‘big hands, big feet’ adage. I wanted to see if it was a myth. I quickly found out it was not.”

“You also thought the G spot was a myth.”

“I found out pretty quick that it isn’t. You were really on the ball those five days.”

“Had to leave a lasting impression,” Tyler reasons. “Wanted you to come back for me.”

“You left a lasting impression, alright. One that lasted nine months and weighed eight pounds, three ounces. That’s quite the impression to leave.”

“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m really not. That’s the one good thing...the one amazing thing...that came out of all that bullshit. Besides us.”

“Nice to see you finally admit we’re a good thing,” she teases. “I think we’re pretty amazing. But hey, that’s just my humble opinion.”

“We are. We are pretty amazing.”

“And we’re stronger together than we are apart. You’ve always said that. And that’s why we need to trust each other. With this. We have to trust each other more than we ever have. That’s the only way we’ll get out of here. That we’ll BOTH get out of here.”

He gives a small smile of agreement, then runs his palm up her back and all the way to the nape of her neck; squeezing lightly as he pulls her into a kiss. Long and slow at first; closed mouth upon closed mouth and their bodies brushing against each other. It’s her that takes the first step towards turning it into something more. Fingers pushing into his hair and tightly gripping it; pressing her body against his as her tongue pushes its way past his lips and teeth. Quickly transforming the moment into something much more desperate and needy.

“I want you,” she breathes, her lips finding the side of his neck, teeth scraping against the tattoo and the scar that mars the skin. “I want you and I need you. I need to feel you inside of me.”

He shudders at her words, then leans his weight into her and pushes her onto her back. Her fingers still in his hair and her eyes fluttering closed as his hands and his mouth behind their slow, torturous worship of her body.

[angst-king]

Yucky feels

((this is for my favorite side ship. Kiribakuraka, and their son Zomi...I’m not very good at sickfics sorry)) It was supposed to be a nice papa and son day for Kirishima and Zomi, but...well, that quickly turned out not to be the case when Kirishima woke up feeling sick. He woke up feeling stuffy, tired, and achy. At first he thought he was just tired from yesterday’s hero work but that was until he started coughing. Darn it, did he really just get sick the day he and Zomi were supposed to hang out for the day?!! Seems so, well now he was gonna have to break the bad news to Zomi. He sluggishly gets out of bed and walks to his four year old’s room and knocks on the door before softly saying “Hey Zomi, I’m coming in.” Opening the door, Kirishima was a little confused seeing the toddler was still asleep. Usually Zomi was awake by now but he was still deep asleep under his covers. Kirishima decided to gently shake the small one awake. 

“Zozo, come on buddy, wake up.” Leaning away as talking made him cough, Kirishima tried to wake up the kid. Earning some whining and whimpering. Zomi pushes his papa’s hand away wanting to go back to sleep. Zomi wasn’t exactly a morning person, yet still didn’t sleep in very long. “Come on Zom, gotta wake up for me.” Zomi whined more before coughing, his cough sounded just as bad and Kirishima’s which made Kirishima worry. Maybe he just did this in the morning? Eijirou didn’t usually wake Zomi up during the day, he usually woke up on his own. 

Big red eyes slowly opening up looking tired and wanting more sleep, Zomi looked at Eijirou and whined. “Hhhnng? T-time to get up?” His voice sounded a little raspy and more exhausted, and Zomi’s face was really starting to look flushed. “Yup it is, hey I’m sorry kiddo but, I don’t know if we can go out today.” Zomi looked at Eijirou confusedly, furrowing his brows. “Why not?-” Zomi’s talking was interrupted by his own painful sounding coughing fit. Hearing the little boy cough Eijirou had a bad feeling, he’d never seen a toddler sick before but. He knew the other didn’t exactly look like his normal self. “Well Zom, I'm not feeling so good today, and I don’t think going out is gonna make me feel any better.” Frowning Zomi pouted a little but nodded, sniffling wetly at his runny nose, he scrunched it up before letting out a soft “Hutt’zziiew!” Strangely enough this sneeze seemed to actually make the ground shake!

Eijirou was rather surprised by this, and Zomi looked the same way. “Wh-what was that?” Zomi asked while wiping his runny nose on the sleeve of his shirt. Eijirou gave a small frown and sat on Zomi’s bed. “Let me check something first kiddo” Eijirou reached out and placed his palm on Zomi’s forehead before quickly pulling a way. “Yikes, I think someone’s not feeling so good either.” Zomi whimpered and held onto his stuffed bear that he slept with tightly. “I feel really yucky Papa.” Hearing his son say that actually made Eijirou’s heart break, seeing his cheeks all pink and pale, eyes looking glassy and tired, and his voice sounding all raspy. “Naw sounds like it lil dude, can you tell me what feels yucky?” “My froat is all scratchy, I can’s breathe through my nose, a-and I’s really cold.” “Alright buddy, I’m sorry you feel yucky, sounds like you and I both had a bit of a cold, don’t worry, Papa’s gonna help you feel better. We can still spend our day together...just not exactly how we planned it.” Zomi nods and then he buries his face into his teddy bear before asking. “Can’s we cuddle Papa?” Eijirou smiles and picks Zomi up and gets up from Zomi’s bed. “Sure thing lil guy, how about we go on the couch, I’ll get up some sickie supplies?” Zomi holds onto Kirishima’s shirt with one hand and his teddy bear with the other. “O-okay” 

With that Eijirou carried his four year old down to the living room and set him on the couch. “Okay you and Sunny can stay here and pick out what you wanna watch on TV, I’ll get us some supplies okay.” Sunny was Zomi’s teddy bear which he loved to death, and never went anywhere without it. It was a gift from Kaminari, he’s had it since he was only 1. The toddler wiped his nose on the stuffed animal as his nose began to run. Eijirou soon returned with some supplies.”Alright, I’ve got supplies.” Eijirou said as he walked into the living room with a small basket full of stuff. He had a few blankets, two boxes of tissues, some medicine, a thermometer, pillows from their rooms, and his phone. Setting down the basket on the coffee table in front of the couch, Eijirou grabbed the blankets and distributed them. Zomi took his own blanket that Eijirou had gotten for him and curled up on the couch. Sitting on the couch, Zomi crawled into Eijirou’s lap and nuzzled against him. “Hey there buddy” “wanna lay on Papa” Zomi quietly says leaning into Eijirou’s chest, at first Eijirou didn’t know what his son meant. Now he knows. Zomi was gonna lay on Eijirou’s chest like a pillow. Zomi wasn’t usually a clingy kid, but it seemed that when he was sick he was a bit touch starved and cuddly. Eijirou didn’t mind this at all, he brushed his fingers through the boy’s hair while he grabbed the thermometer. 

He grabbed both thermometers, the ear thermometer and the oral one. He used the oral one on himself and kept it under his tongue, while keeping the little boy snuggled up to him. Sniffling and muffling coughs until the tool beeped, luckily Eijirou didn’t have much of a fever, so that was good. Now it was Zomi’s turn, so he gently pats Zomi on the shoulder. “Zomi, think you can keep this under your tongue for me?” Zomi looked at the tool confusedly and with a tired look on his face. “Hmm?” His brain was all foggy and having a hard time registering things. He really wasn’t doing too well with this cold. So Eijirou just decided to use the ear thermometer. “Never mind buddy, just hold still for me.” He says before sticking the ear thermometer into Zomi’s ear. Squirming a little bit at this, Zomi whined and tried to bury his face deeper into Eijirou’s chest but he couldn’t go very far.

When the thermometer beeped like the other one, Eijirou frowned. “38.5 C” (101F) “Is that bad?”  Asked Zomi, Eijirou didn’t want to worry his son but also didn’t want to lie to him either. 38.5 is not a high fever so it’s not bad, but it’s not good that he has one in the first place. “Well it’s not a high fever but, it's not good that you have one in general. Though it shouldn’t take too long to get you back to normal.” Zomi nods and wipes his nose onto Sunny again as his nose is becoming very runny and then “Hutt’zziiew! Hutt’zziiew!” he sneezed right into Sunny. Making Eijirou cringe, he grabbed a tissue and sat Zomi up. “Don’t do that to your teddy bear buddy, you’ll get him sick.” “oh sowwy” “it's okay kiddo, here, blow your nose.” Pressing the tissue to Zomi’s nose, Zomi blew his nose into the tissues, earning soft spoken praises from Eijirou. “Good job buddy, good.” Eijirou tosses the used tissues into the empty basket, deciding to use that as the waste basket for the time being. “Alright, Zozo, this is gonna taste icky but I need you to take some medicine. It’s gonna help you feel better.” The father said, opening the child-proof cap.” Pouring the medicine into the little cup, it kind of looked like juice to Zomi. “Ready? It’s cherry flavored.” Kirishima asked. Thinking it would taste like delicious cherry juice, Zomi nodded. His father handed him the little cup, and he began drinking the medicine. Halfway through the cup, Zomi realized it didn’t taste like juice at all! He realized grass tasted better. “Nono! Yucky! Yucky!” Zomi threw the cup on the floor and it spilled onto the carpet. “I know it isn’t the best taste ever-” Kirishima soon had an idea. He picked up the cup and filled it halfway. “If you drink the rest, I’ll give you some candy, deal?” Zomi skeptically nodded, taking the cup. He hesitated before drinking the medicine. “Great job, Zozo!” Kirishima said to his son. “Cany?” Zomi expected a reward. “This is a new kind of candy.” The father handed Zomi a gummy vitamin. Putting the vitamin in his mouth, he wanted more. “Mowe!” Zomi demanded. “Maybe another time, pal. Maybe some orange juice instead?” Eijirou offered. Zomi thought about it before nodding, he liked juice, unknown to him Eijirou offered orange juice because he knows that will help Zomi get better. “Okay then, come on, let's go get juice.” Eijirou says, so Zomi gets off of Eijirou and wraps the blanket around himself and Sunny while the red head man stood up. 

Leading Zomi into the kitchen, Eijirou grabs two cups, a mug for himself and a sippy cup for Zomi. While Eijirou was looking in the fridge for the orange juice another. “Hut’Ziiew!” came and then the ground shook, Eijirou had a feeling that this was Zomi’s quirk just acting  up when he sneezed. It was normal for little kids to have little to no control over their quirk and while sick it went even more haywire. Eijirou had to make sure nothing fell out of the fridge. “Yikes, bless you, Zomi.” Zomi looked at Eijirou confusedly but Eijirou was turned around so he didn’t see his facial expression. Setting the orange juice down he pours it into their cups, screws on the lid to Zomi’s sippy cup. “Here ya go buddy” Kirishima hands Zomi his cup which he takes and starts drinking on the orange drink, his facial expression changed not long after. It looks like he just discovered what a lemon was. “Nuh-uh, spicy.” Zomi complains, sticking out his tongue. Kirishima chuckles a little at this “I know bud...hmmm.” Kirishima had an idea, he took Zomi’s cup, poured out the orange juice, and replaced it with apple juice and then he went and got the little fruit cup of oranges. “Alright kiddo, how about a fruit cup of oranges with some apple juice?” Zomi smiles widely, he likes fruit cups, they always taste good. “Yeah yeah fwuit cup!” Talking loudly made Zomi cough, which in then made the four year old whimper at the pain in his throat. “Owie” Grabs a small plastic spork, and says. “Okay buddy let's go back to the couch” Nodding Zomi and Eijirou headed back to the living room and got to the couch.

Back on the couch Zomi was given his fruit cup and sippy cup of juice while watching cartoons. It was a good distraction for him and even Eijirou who didn’t mind watching cartoons with the kid. Even if they couldn’t spend their day out of the house and at the playground or toy store, this was fine. Eijirou kept Zomi in his lap for the time being, wrapped up in blankets.

Then his phone rang, grabbing it from the coffee table, Eijirou smiled. “Hey Zomi, mommy’s calling.” Zomi quickly looked over at the phone and Eijirou accepted the video call. Seeing Ochako on the screen, his sickly dull red eyes light up with joy! “Mommy!” Ochako smiles and waves. “Hi baby boy, hi Eiji, what are you two up to?” Zomi then answered “Mommy I’s and daddy feel yucky, so we’s at home.” Ochako frowns hearing that her son and husband are both sick, seeing as they’d been excited about spending the day together. “Naaw I’m sorry you both feel yucky sweetheart, I bet Papa is taking good care of you though.” Zomi nods proudly and raises his fruit cup and sippy cup in the air. “Papa gives me juice and fwuit cup” “That’s good sweetie, you two gonna watch a movie or any cartoons?” “Mhm, we’s watching ‘Ready, jet, go!” Zomi responded happily.

Right after he said that, his voice faltered, and Eijirou knew what was about to happen, so he snatched up a tissue with his free hand and pressed it to Zomi’s nose catching the sneeze just in time. “Het’zziiew! Het’zziiew! Het’ziiew!” Those three sneezes really rocked the house, it could be seen through the camera and felt by Eijirou. “Jeez bless you Zomi” Eijirou said while Zomi blew his nose. “Oh wowie, bless you Zozo. You must be sick, your quirk is acting up, poor baby.” Coos Ochako from her side of the phone, Eijirou nods. “Yeah poor kid’s really not feeling so good, he’s a little touch starved and slept in longer than usual this morning, I had to wake him up.” He replied with a bit of a chesty sounding cough while throwing away the tissues into the basket. Dark brown eyes softening with sympathy, Ochako sighed. “How about I go get some stuff and I’ll make chicken noodle soup for dinner. That’ll definitely help with your yucky cold.” Eijirou smiles “thanks babe, stay safe out there okay, tell Katsuki we said ‘we love you.’” “Will do babe, I love you Eiji, I love you Zomi.” “I wuv you mommy” Just before hanging up, Ochako turns around after hearing some yelling and alarms, seeing a villain behind her she huffed. “Gotta go boys, I’ll be home soon hopefully.” She says before hanging up.

When the call had ended Zomi had finished his snack and set his stuff down on the coffee table before yawning. Rubbing his eyes sleepily, Eijirou could tell the toddler was ready for a nap. He really needed it anyway seeing as he was sick and needed as much rest as he could get. “Sounds like someone’s getting sleepy.” Zomi shook his head but contradicted himself by curling up in his dad’s lap, and laying down, closing his eyes. Eijirou sets his phone down and starts to rub Zomi’s back soothingly to lull the little boy to sleep. Eyelids got heavier by the second until it got to the point where soft little snores could be heard. Eijirou was just as tired, and knew this might be his only chance to get some well needed rest, so he took this chance with advantage and laid down comfortably and adjusted Zomi so they could both sleep well. Turning down the tv volume, he closes his eyes and allows himself to sleep.It wasn’t quite the kind of day they planned out, but it was one they enjoyed.

By the time Ochako and Katsuki had gotten home Zomi and Eijirou were still asleep on the couch. Zomi curled up snuggly under Eijirou while still holding onto Sunny. It was so cute seeing the two asleep together, sure they were sick but it was still adorable nonetheless. Ochako always thought Eijirou was cute when he was sick, especially since his reddish pink nose almost matched his hair color. Zomi was just as cute, even Katsuki thought so. The two made sure not to wake the sleeping boys up, as they snuck off to change out of their hero costumes and went into the kitchen to make them some soup.  

Waking up, Kirishima’s sense of smell had been dulled by congestion but he could totally smell the fact that someone was cooking.  Zomi groaned softly and sat up to stretch. “Hmmmm?” HIs throat still sounded scratchy and he still felt stuffy and lacked energy. Eijirou felt the same though he playfully ruffled Zomi’s messy hair. “I think Mommy and daddy are cooking” Eijirou muttered softly, Zomi made an interesting sound as Eijirou moved and shifted the other off of him. Zomi began to whine, which Eijirou quieted by picking him up. They both stayed wrapped in a blanket of their own and Eijirou brought Zomi and himself into the kitchen. Seeing his husband and wife both sitting at the kitchen island while the soup cooked he smiles. So did Zomi who coughed which alerted the parents that someone else was in the room. 

Looking up from their phones they smile seeing the two sickies at the threshold of the kitchen. “Hey there you two, how ya feeling?” Asked Katsuki, Eijirou turned away from Zomi and coughed into his elbow before answering. “Not so good babe, this cold is kicking my butt.” Zomi leaned into Eijirou’s shoulder and pouted at them. “Feel really icky, daddy.” “Aaw I’m sorry you feel icky Zozo” Katsuki says as he gets up and goes over to them. Zomi tiredly looks at Katsuki who reaches to feel Zomi’s forehead. “You’re a little warm lil guy” Then Ochako joins the conversation as she gets up to turn the stove off. “Some chicken noodle soup will surely make you feel better quicker.” Eijirou smiles at the mention of chicken noodle soup and gives Zomi to Katsuki. “Here Zomi, go with Daddy, Papa is gonna get some soup okay.” Zomi whimpered and whines as he’s being pulled off of Eijirou but doesn’t mind being held by Katsuki at all who takes him to the table. 

Zomi is sitting in Katsuki’s lap, with a bowl of soup in front of him. He’s still too tired to do much on his own so Katsuki says. “Hey kiddo, want some help?” Katsuki was a little surprised by the  small ‘yes’ that Zomi let out but helped him eat his soup. The first spoonful, Zomi looked like he’d entered heaven. “Mmmm yummy” Katsuki and Ochako smiled. “That's good” “that’ll definitely get rid of your icky cold faster.” Katsuki says softly playing with Zomi’s hair, Ochako came around to Eijirou and kissed his forehead. “Oh yeah, and you’ll be better in no time.”

[myhockeyworld87]

Nervous Regrets - Tyler Seguin - Part 25

Word Count: 3129

POV  Reader

Warnings:  Language, fluff, mentions smut

Notes: Here’s the Christmas past finally. I hope you guys enjoy it. I probably won’t be posting another chapter for 2 weeks, as I’ll be out of town. Happy Reading!

READER’S POV

 It was hard to believe Christmas came as fast as it did. Tyler was on another long road trip after the Star’s family skate, so you were able to get the majority of your shopping and wrapping all done before the holiday. Technically this would be the first Christmas you spent away from your family, which felt odd. You had made the decision after your engagement that you wanted to start a new tradition with your own family; and that was making sure that you, Tyler and soon your baby, all be together for the holiday. Though your family was disappointed, you made plans to get together with all of them as soon as Tyler’s schedule permitted.

 Tyler’s family were all coming in on the twenty-second to watch him play on the twenty-third and then were all staying at the house for Christmas. Which is why you needed everything done before they came to town. Days were spent baking, wrapping and adding finishing touches on the decorations. By the time everyone flew in, you had the house looking like something out of a Hallmark Christmas movie. All the stockings were hung, one for both you and Tyler as well as each of the three dogs; you’d toyed with the idea of getting one for the baby, but then decided to wait until next year. Tyler’s mom had dozens of presents delivered to your house, and as you bowed them and placed them under the tree you noticed there were a few for Baby Seguin as well, which was awfully sweet of her.

 There was no way you could pick everyone up at the airport alone, as Tyler was in Minnesota when his family came into town; so you’d had to hire a car service for them. It felt so impersonal, but they didn’t seem to mind. You had cookies out on the island, as well as eggnog for when they arrived.

 “Oh (Y/N) the place looks so amazing,” Jackie said as she hugged you. “And look at you. You finally look like you’re going to have my grandchild.” An easy blush stained your cheeks, for in the last few weeks your baby belly had really begun to show.

 Cassidy came up to you then, placing her hands on your tummy as she said, “Hey little one, how are you doing in there?” The baby kicked in response, well maybe not in response; since he or she seemed to be doing a lot of kicking lately. “I’m gonna take that as pretty good.” She hugged you as well.

 As the rest of Tyler’s family filed in, you greeted them all. It was nice just sitting around and visiting with everyone. Everyone gathered in the living room to watch the Stars take on the Wild. The game going into overtime. Thankfully Rads was able to score during the three-on-three period, giving the Stars a win. As the night dwindled down, everyone headed off to bed. Tyler wouldn’t be home for a couple hours, so you decided to follow suit and just get up when he came home. It was about two in the morning when you heard him enter your bedroom. He’d been particularly quiet as to not wake anyone. Rolling over you greeted your soon to be husband. “Hey hun, good game tonight.”

 “Hi, babe.” He leaned over and kissed you. “Everyone get here ok?”

 “Yeah, we had a nice dinner and then watched the game.” You stretched as much as the dogs would allow you to before adding. “I think your mom wanted to wait up for you, but she eventually headed to bed.”

 “She didn’t keep you up, did she? You need your rest.”

 A laugh escaped you. “No, Ty she didn’t. Trust me, me and this little one are taking it easy.” He stripped out of his suit, throwing it and his bag in the closet; while you got up to head to the bathroom.

 “Babe, where are you going?” he whispered as he pulled you into his arms.

 “Your child is sitting on my bladder at the moment.” He let you go then but followed you in the ensuite.

 “So why is he or she my child when they are doing these things to you?” He chuckled as he started to brush his teeth.

 “Oh, that’s easy. I’m sure he or she got all their bad traits from you and not me. Besides, you get all the blame because you knocked me up.” He practically spit toothpaste all over the mirror, as he started to laugh.

 He rinsed his mouth out, before answering you. “Oh so you weren’t a participant at all then were you?” Setting the toothbrush down, he pulled you into him, rubbing his hands up and down your body.

 “Hmmm…I might’ve helped, but I’m pretty sure you instigated it.”

 “That so, huh?” You nodded your head. “Well then, I might as well start something right now with you.” He backed the two of you up until you were back in your bedroom.

 “Ty, your whole family is here. We can’t do this.”

 “I think they already know that we have sex (Y/N).” He kissed the crook of your neck. “This one right here gives that away.” His hands were on your stomach, caressing the baby through your nightshirt. He went to lay you down on the mattress when three sets of eyeballs all looked up at you at once.

 “I don’t think there’s room in this bed for what you have in mind.” You giggled softly.

 “Ok boys, get down.” They just stared at him, Marshall going as far as just laying his head back down on the bed. “Come on guys, get off the bed,” Gerry growled when Tyler tried to grab his collar and gently tug him down. “Great I’m getting cockblocked by my own dogs.” This only made you laugh harder. “If you weren’t seven months pregnant, I’d take you on the floor; but I’m a gentleman.”

  “Since when?”

 “Don’t start woman. Alright, guys at least move over, so we can sleep.” You crawled into bed, Tyler following behind you, as the whole left side was taken up by your furbabies. “Babe, can you scoot over anymore?”

 “Well Cash is kind of in my way.” Tyler tried to move the dog from behind you, which was quite comical. “God we’re a hot mess.” Cash finally got out of the middle of the bed, so that you could move over for Tyler. He wrapped his arm around you then, hand resting on your belly, while his leg came over the top of yours.

 “Mmmm much better.” He pressed a few kisses to the nape of your neck. “Night baby.”

 “Goodnight, Ty. Love you.”

 “I love you too (Y/N).” Despite the chaos that went on when Tyler came home, it was somehow easy to fall asleep. The next day was a whirlwind of activity. Tyler’s family was up early, waking both you and the dogs as he slept on. He and his sisters did some last-minute shopping before he had to head for the arena for the game. The rest of you following shortly thereafter. It was a tough loss, but it was made a bit easier by all his loved ones being around.

 Christmas Eve was spent, making a huge feast for everyone that night, as well as lots of laughter and fun. At one point you’d noticed that Tyler had slipped away, but as you and his sister’s put the finishing touches on the dining room table, he came strolling in, clad in a Santa costume. “Ho, Ho, Ho it’s Seggy Claus.”

 “Oh my god, you’ve got to be kidding me.” Cassidy burst out. You weren’t sure who was laughing harder you, Candace or Cassidy. Though you had to admit, he looked so darn cute though, in his white beard and red suit, carrying a matching gift sack on his back.

 “Oh, I see someone is on the naughty list this year.” He teased Cass. Tyler then bumped into Candace, “And what about you, have you been good this year?” She rolled her eyes at him, and before she even attempted to answer, he stopped her. “I can see you’ll be joining your sister on that list.” Finally, he made his way to you. “Seggy Claus has it on good authority that you’ve been an extra good girl.”

 The grin on his face was evident even through his removable beard. “I can’t imagine who told you that.”

 He dropped the bag, which clearly had gifts in it, and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Well, a little elf told me of course.”

 Raising your eyebrows, you quipped, “Hmmm…I don’t think that elf is little at all.” Noticing that his sisters had left, you slid your hands down to the front of his Santa pants and quickly stroked his cock.

 “Yes, you’ve been a very good girl.” He said, then in a more hushed tone. “So how about you and I go be naughty for a bit.”

 “Ty we can’t.” You whispered back to him.

 He pulled his beard down then and kissed you passionately; making you warm inside. “Isn’t there something you need at the store?”

 “No, I made sure we had everything we’re going to need.”

 He chuckled. “Umm, babe…I was saying that so we could be alone.”

 “Oh! But not everyone would have to go.” Even if you did makeup something that you needed from the store, it would only get one or two people out of the house.

 “No they wouldn’t, but just you and I could go.”

 “Ok, I’m blaming my pregnancy brain on not getting this strategy at all.” Now that your brain had finally caught up to Tyler’s, you needed to think of something that would get your out of the house. “I’m game, but what could we need?”

 “Ummm…I’m sure we can think of something. What about butter or milk?”

 “Nah, too obvious…but we could say I’m out of my prenatal vitamins or something. No one will question that.”

 He quickly kissed you, before letting you go. “Let me go change real quick.”

 Grabbing his wrist, you pulled him back to you. “Leave it on.”

 His brow went up. “Really? You gotta thing for Santa?” Instead of giving you a chance to answer, he entwined your hands and led you out to the kitchen. Where he let the lie you agreed to pass from his lips. His family seemed a bit skeptical but didn’t question anything, and when you both came back an hour later without any bags; no one said a word.

 Dinner was incredible and then you all settled in the living room to talk and enjoy each other’s company. Tyler’s mom insisted everyone open at least one small gift that night. She’d gotten you and Tyler matching pajamas, which were extremely cute. They were Christmas plaid pants and a cute little top that said Santa Baby on it. Tyler’s were identical, but his said Santa Baby Maker instead. To which he responded. “Hell ya!” He immediately changed into them, urging you to do the same. Of course, Cassidy documented the whole thing with a cute photo of you two in front of the tree with the dogs; Tyler cradling your bump in the picture. You had a feeling it would become one of your favorites.

 Everyone called it a night and headed off to bed shortly after that. When you walked into your bedroom, you headed straight for the closet. “Babe, what are you doing?”

 “I have to get all these presents out.” You had quite a few packages stashed in the back of the closet to put out.

 “What are you talking about? There are a ton of gifts under that tree.”

 “Well, I saved some back so it’s like Santa came.” It had always been your family’s tradition to do this, and you wanted it to continue with your new one. “Besides, you need to get used to doing a lot more than these, once the baby comes. Maybe you should put that suit back on.”

 “Oh, my kinky Mrs. Claus is back.” He went to grab you, but instead, you threw a couple boxes in his hands.

 “Ty, not now. Here take these out.” A groan of frustration left his mouth, as he headed out of the closet to take the gifts and put them under the tree. After about half a dozen trips of you both taking presents out of the bedroom, you were finally done. You stood back and looked at how beautiful your house looked with all the gifts under the Christmas tree.

 Tyler came up behind you, leaning his head on your shoulder. “What are you thinking about?”

 “How beautiful it all looks, and how I can’t wait until next year.” Rubbing your baby belly, your thoughts drifted to seeing your little one amidst the pile of presents, dogs surrounding him or her as well; their little hands reaching out and grabbing one of the bows. It brought a smile to your face, just thinking about it.

 He placed his hands over the top of yours, knowing where your thoughts had gone, he added. “Mmmm…I can’t wait to see the baby on Christmas morning too.” While you didn’t want to rush things along with your pregnancy, you were looking forward to all the firsts you were going to have next year. There would be first time rolling over, first steps, and first words; but first Christmas, you planned on making extra special. “Alright Mrs. Claus, let’s head to bed. Santa has some plans for you.”

 “Oh, really Mr. Claus?”

 “Yes really.” He took your hand, walking you backwards toward your bedroom.

 “Well, there might be a present in here for you to unwrap.” He barred the dogs from entry for the next hour, until you two were ready to fall asleep. Light streaming through the windows woke you in the morning, and you kissed Tyler’s sleeping form before heading out to the kitchen to start breakfast for everyone. Christmas carols played softly in the background as you cooked bacon and sausage for the entire family, the aroma wafting throughout the house. About halfway through mixing the pancake batter, Tyler woke up.

 He snuck behind you, making you jump. “Merry Christmas baby.” He nuzzled your neck, dropping kisses until you turned in his arms.

 “Merry Christmas my love.” Going up on your tiptoes, you kissed your fiancé passionately, right as his family came traipsing down the stairs, a chorus of Merry Christmases coming out of their lips.

 “Merry Christmas everyone!” You echoed back.

 “Wow, breakfast smells amazing,” Jackie commented.

 “It really does,” Paul added. “Anything we can help with?”

 “Absolutely, someone can make toast and I was just finishing up the pancake mix, then I’ll get to making them. Ty, honey, can you do the eggs?”

 “I’m on it, babe.”

 Cassidy wandered around the island and peered into the living room. “Where did all the presents come from?”

 Tyler nudged you. “Looks like Santa came last night.” A giant grin broke out across both your faces. After breakfast, everyone headed into the living room to open presents.

 “Here’s one for Baby Seguin from Santa,” Candace said, handing you over the package. You looked over at Tyler, who just shook his head no; but then when you saw his mom grinning you remembered it had to be her. Peeling the paper off, you opened the box to reveal a little onesie inside. It read, ‘I’m cute, Mommy’s cute, Daddy’s lucky.’

 “Really mom? I’m a little bit cute too…though I am damn lucky.” He leaned over and gave you a quick peck.

 “Jackie, this is darling. Thank you so much.” There were plenty more gifts for Baby Seguin, cute little outfits with puppies all over them, stuffed animals to go in the nursery and so much more. Tyler got a baby Bjorn to carry the baby around while he skated, which he was completely over the moon about.

 “I can’t wait to use this. Babe, how big does the baby have to be before we can take them out in this.” His excitement was contagious, but you had to admit you were a bit nervous about him skating around with your child. You now knew what he was feeling at the family skate.

 “Hold your horses there Daddy. Let’s get this little one out first.”

 “Speaking of being a Dad.” Cassidy interrupted. “Here’s one to Daddy…Love Baby Seguin.”

 Tyler looked over at you, a questioning look on his face. “Wait…what?...Babe, did you do this?”

 Feigning innocence, you answered. “Don’t look at me, the baby did it.”

 The smile that was on his face was enough to make you melt, making your excitement grow for him to open the gift you got him from the baby. Carefully he tore the wrapping off the box, then lifted the lid. You could see tears starting to form in his eyes as he read what was inside. “Ok, don’t leave us in suspense big brother.” Cassidy taunted.

 “It’s the baby’s first sonogram picture, which I never saw, and it says.” His voice got a little choked up as he read what was on the frame. “Daddy can you feel me, I wiggle and kick for you. I can hear you say you love me…Daddy, I love you too.” He took a moment to wipe away the tears that were now rolling down his cheeks; you did the same. “Very soon you’ll meet me, and kiss my little face…And I will feel your soft skin, and feel your warm embrace. Daddy are you ready, my life is about to start. I will hold your finger, but you will always hold my heart. Love Always, Baby Seguin.” He had barely got that last part out, and when you looked around the entire family were crying happily along with you both; even Paul was quickly wiping away a tear or two.

 Tyler leaned down toward the baby and placed both hands on your tummy. “Thank you so much little one. Daddy loves you more than you’ll ever know.” Then he placed a loving kiss on your stomach, before reaching up and kissing you on the lips. “I love you too Mommy. Thank you, but I feel like an ass. I didn’t get you anything even close to this.”

 “You already gave me the best gift I could ever ask for Ty.” As you spoke the words you caressed the baby that was growing inside you. “Besides, you’ve given me so much over these last few months.” It was your turn to kiss Tyler this time, and though it wasn’t heated; you poured all the love you felt for him into it.