#because while some words have shifted meaning significantly like 'deer'

[hedge-rambles]

Can't see Anglish mentioned without bringing up Uncleftish Beholding which is a, hear me out, short treatise on atomic theory written without using French, Latin and Greek loan words*.

It's meant in part to illustrate how many of them there are in English, particularly in academic fields, e.g. "atomic" and "theory" which are replaced with the calques "uncleftish" and "beholding".

It starts as follows; crossed out annotations added by me to either translate or just show where we'd commonly use another, non-Anglish-compliant word.

For most of its existence being, mankind did not know what things are made of, but could only theorise guess. With the growth of science worldken, we began to learn, and today we have a theory beholding of matter stuff and energy work that observation watching bears out, both in the workplace workstead and in daily life. The underlying kinds of matter stuff are the elements *firststuffs*, which combine link together in various sundry ways to give rise to the rest. Previously Formerly we knew of ninety-two elements firststuffs, from hydrogen waterstuff, the lightest and barest, to uranium ymirstuff, the heaviest. Now we have created made more, such as neptunium aegirstuff and plutonium helstuff.

Mostly though I just think it's a fun read. You can find it all over the internet if you search for it.

*there's a few where using the original English term would be unhelpful, as it was so completely replaced by something from French no one would have the faintest idea what it meant. E.g. even I didn't know what the fuck "umbe" would mean: it means "around", and also it is pronounced "um".

[whiskeybeforesunset]

Homecoming Part 3 | Steve Harrington

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Male!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Synopsis: According to Steve Harrington “only losers don’t go to Homecoming.” This multi-part fic is going to follow the reader through different experiences of the night. Finally, the reader arrives at the dance. And actually… has fun? Well that is until he’s forced to come to terms with some not-so-straight feelings about his friend. 

Warnings: Dancing, kissing, some crying, panic attack (scene where someone realizes they are gay and are freaking out about it), some parts are a bit dialogue heavy

Author’s note: I’m not even going to lie to you, I really struggled with the dancing scenes in this because when I was in highschool grind circles were all the rage. I know some of the music wouldn’t have been released when this story takes place but I don’t really care. Also a good chunk of this is Nicole and the reader having fun, but I wanted to throw some of that in since there are some positives of going to a dance. 

Previous Chapter , Next Chapter

—

The smell of hairspray is overwhelming as you walk onto the gym. It’s warm and humid. As it turns out, packing 200 hormonal teens shoulder to shoulder has some heat generating abilities. Orange and green tinsel dangles along the walls, hiding the folded up bleachers. 

Your group makes its way to the perfect spot on the dancefloor, just close enough to the DJ for the music to be loud without it bursting your eardrums. Turns out hanging with the popular kids has some perks, even if they can be assholes. 

The night starts off with students dancing in little pods. Something you’re thankful for as dancing for your friends and their dates is much less intimidating than standing alone in front of the whole school. However, your fear of disappointing Nicole with your lack of rhythm has increased significantly as she is apparently a very skilled dancer. Steve on the other hand dances like a newborn deer, and yet his awkward jutting motions still come off as charming. You wonder if his confidence is natural, or if he’s had to teach himself to be ok with dancing like no one’s watching. You wonder if you could ever reach that level of self assurance. 

After an hour or so, the music fades as the DJ announces “Here’s some for all the young couple’s out there tonight.” The crowds begin shifting into pairs and you and Nicole begin slow dancing together.

Nicole’s eyebrows furrow as she asks, “have you ever danced before?” Over Madonna’s Crazy For You. 

“Uh, no. Not really.” You respond with an awkward smile. “Is it that obvious?”

“A little,” Nicole laughs before continuing, “for one, your hand is supposed to go on my waist, not my shoulder.” Ah, you were wondering why this position felt so awkward. 

“Better?” You ask after quickly fixing your hand position. 

“Much.” Nicole replies. You two go on like this for a while, discussing different things about your life: family, where and if you want to go to college, that kind of stuff. The conversation comes to a lull and Nicole presses her lips together and looks off to the side before smiling up at you mischievously. 

“Y’know, if you really wanted to get fancy, with the dancing I mean, you could twirl me.” She says with a grin.

“Twirl you?” You respond.

“Yes.” Nicole answers, but with audibly more hesitation than when she presented the idea. On her face is a mild version of the look you saw earlier tonight at the restaurant. She’s worried you’ll reject the idea, or think it was stupid. 

“Sounds like fun.” You finally say, putting an end to the poor girl’s anticipation. “How do I um… do that?”

Nicole gives a relieved laugh before releasing one of your hands and changing her grip on the other. She explains the motion to you and you perform per her instructions while she turns. Her dress twirls around her feet. 

The two of you are laughing by the time she comes back into your arms. 

“Okay, my turn now.” You say, half joking.

“What?!” Nicole says, almost out of breath.

“Well it’s only fair, if you get to be twirled so do I.” You respond, mimicking the pose of the noble Englishmen you’ve seen in your mother’s soap operas. 

She pretends to contemplate your reasoning before responding with the same congeniality, “I suppose you’re right.”

She dramatically presents her hand in front of you and spins you to the best of her ability given your height difference. You two continue to dance, although in a more traditional fashion, as Take My Breath Away by Berlin comes over the speakers. 

When Nicole comes closer to lay her head on your chest you become cognizant of the fact that you are actually… having fun? Maybe Steve was right. Speaking of Steve, with Nicole's head ducked lower you are able to see him with his date. His hands are around her waist while hers lace together behind his neck. Your mind begins to wander. 

You can feel the warmth of Steve’s hands through your dress shirt. His hair tickles as you sway to the music. He moves closer to you, closing the gap between your bodies and causing your chests to touch. His eyes are so beautiful this close. They’re always beautiful, but the moving lights of the dance causes them to glimmer in a way you’ve never seen before. 

You watch as those same eyes flicker down to your lips. You feel one of his hands move from your hip. You're briefly saddened by the loss of contact before it finds your face. He tilts his head forward, all the while half lidded eyes looking at yours. His breath fans across your lips, you’re mere centimeters away from each other. You nod, silently giving permission. With this he closes the gap, pressing his soft lips against your own. His slightly chapped lips move against yours, but there is no urgency to the motion, just passion slowly pouring over as if the moment will last forever.

You’re brought out of your thoughts by the sight of Steve kissing Tina. In real life. Which you were not experiencing previously. That familiar pit settles in your stomach. 

You freeze, panicked as a million different thoughts race through your head. 

“Are you alright?” Nicole asks, stepping back when she notices you stopped dancing. 

“I- uh.” You struggle to form a sentence as the corners of your vision become blurry. You take quicker, more shallow breaths, begging your body to accept the oxygen. 

You see Nicole mouthing your name through the tears forming in your eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” You say shortly before exiting the gym as quickly as possible and finding the nearest restroom. 

You slam the door behind you and brace against it while tears begin falling down your face. Thankfully no one else is in there or else that would have been quite the entrance. 

“What the fuck.” You repeat over and over to yourself while wiping tears from your eyes. Why did you think like that about Steve? Why do you want to kiss him? Are you gay?

You sob and sink to the floor. Why is this happening to you? Why couldn’t you just be normal? You had fun with Nicole tonight, why couldn’t you just feel about her that way? But you know you can’t, because no matter how much you’ve enjoyed your time with Nicole you know you don’t see her, or any woman in that way.

Your attempts to take deep breaths are interrupted by hiccups. Making your way over to the sink, you splash your face with water in an attempt to calm down. 

When you look at your reflection in the mirror, your face is puffy and flushed and your eyes are bloodshot to hell. The water you splashed has wetted the pieces of hair framing your face. Droplets drip down your chin, creating dots of opaqueness on your dress shirt. Your chest heaves as you take a few deep breaths.

“No one can ever know.” You say to yourself solemnly in the mirror. 

You wipe your nose a final time before making your way back to the dance floor, but when you do, you see girls holding heels in their hands and guys with jackets slung over their shoulders. The lights are turned on, the dance is over. At least you get to go-

“Hey, are you alright, you kinda went…” Without you realizing, Nicole had walked up to you.

“Yeah” You repeated “Yeah I, um. I just got in my head a bit.” 

“Okay… Well, Steve and Tina are already in the car. He said you needed to ‘hurry your ass up’ if you wanted a ride to the after party, but I’m pretty sure he was joking.”

Right… the afterparty. 

Nicole notices your change in disposition at the mention of the post-dance festivities.

“Are you sure you’re ok? Cause if you want to just go home, I underst-”

“No.” You cut her off. “No, I’m good to go, let's head out to the car. Would you like me to carry your purse?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Nicole says with a small smile and hands you her bag. 

As you walk out you reason with yourself that you only have to make it, what? Two, Three hours before politely leaving the party. You can handle that.

Yeah. Totally. 

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Red

Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3680

Warnings: Kink and trauma. You know, in case you forgot whose blog you were on! Night terrors. Non-graphic flashbacks to violence, very graphic smut. Bucky’s head is just not a very fun place? References to brainwashing and torture. Kink discovery, including some hitting/slapping during sex and some power/control fantasies, all within the context of a very happy relationship. It goes down dark but there’s a distinctly soft aftertaste. 

A/N: For @cockslut-padalecki and her Decade Under The Influence challenge. My prompt was “The Crimson” by Atreyu. Thanks for always hosting the absolute best challenges, and congrats on the milestone! 

Pre-reads by @thoughtslikeaminefield @mskathywriteswords and @fangirlxwritesx67​. Inspiration from that scene where Sebastian Stan gets slapped. You know the one I mean. 

The companion fic to this will be coming soon! It’s significantly darker and way outside my wheelhouse, but please let me know if you want a tag. 

The Soldier stalks silently down the hallway to the bedroom, scanning the shadows. 

The closet. 

Something itches, deep under the ice: knowledge that closets are for hiding — 

— a small girl, giggling in the back corner of the closet — 

— ready or not, here I come — 

— but those frozen things don’t belong to the Soldier. 

He opens the door and finds the woman on the floor, trying to hide in the darkness. He picks her up by the throat. Moonlight from the open window glints off her wide eyes and the Soldier’s metal hand. She fights back, clawing at his arm uselessly. 

He waits for her to stop struggling. They always do. 

Bucky opens his eyes and bolts upright, gritting his teeth against the sweaty, shivery wave of nausea. 

It takes a moment for the numbing chill of the Soldier’s memory to fade. 

He knows it’s a memory. He lost so many things in the deep emptiness of cryo-sleep, but he couldn’t bury them forever, and now they claw their way out while he dreams. The darkness gives him back his life, one nightmare at a time. 

Sometimes he wakes up screaming. Sometimes he wakes up convinced that the bed under him is soaked with blood, and it takes a few awful seconds to realize that he just sweated through the sheets. Other times he’s paralyzed in the darkness, convinced he’s back in the cryo chamber, and he wants to punch and claw and fight his way out, wants to see the sun again, but he tried that one too many times — he learned his lesson about wanting things. 

At least he didn’t wake her this time. She makes a breathy sound as she stirs, but she’s still sound asleep, and when he inspects his hands in the glow of her night light, there’s no trace of red. 

She got the light about two months ago, when he started sleeping over. She didn’t ask him, didn’t mention it — he would’ve been embarrassed, if she asked, but it helps. She helps. 

He’s goddamn crazy about her. It hasn’t been long, but he knows this is it for him. 

Bucky curls up facing her. Her hair is a mess, and there’s a damp patch of drool on the pillow under her slack mouth, and she’s beautiful. It’s amazing that she trusts him enough to fall asleep next to him. 

He closes his eyes. This time he doesn’t dream.

The end credits of the movie start to scroll down the screen, and she makes a grumbling noise that means she doesn’t want to get up and turn the TV off. Her little apartment is full of the rich smell of whatever she’s got in the oven, and the day has been so sweetly domestic that Bucky wonders when everything will start to twist and distort and go bloody. He must be hallucinating. 

But the hallucinations always had a sort of airbrushed quality to them when they started, an inhuman perfection that felt easy, like he was floating. Right now his stomach is growling, and when she shifts, her elbow digs into his side, and she’s a heavy comforting warmth on top of him. 

The hallucinations were the product of his own brain, which might be why they came back all too quickly when he started to recover his memories. Even when he couldn’t remember his sisters’ faces, he remembered the drug-fueled torture that took place behind his closed eyelids, scenes that started like fantasies and ended like nightmares. 

Most memories from before the fall are weak and hazy, sepia-toned afterimages that overlay the living world like ghosts. Other things bleed through the decades, making it hard to keep track of whose memories he’s seeing. The Soldier’s memories are always sharp and cold, and they’re the hardest to shake off. Sometimes they’re triggered by the present, and it’s always a surprise; he’s stepping into a crosswalk and the past is washing over him like — 

The water from the hose is freezing cold as the handler rinses off the blood — 

— and he’s still staring down at the slushy puddle, but — 

— the Soldier keeps his eyes down, clenching his jaw to stop his teeth from chattering, watching the red swirl over the cold cracked tile and disappear down the drain, and — 

Bucky has to fight to hold on to the honking taxis and the Brooklyn stink, because the cryo chamber is quiet like a coffin in the last few seconds before he’s frozen into unconsciousness, and — 

— and sometimes he feels frozen even when the dreams dissolve, even when he knows they’re only dreams. 

The frigid paralysis was mental more than physical, for the Soldier, and that’s a hard thing to shake. The raw human parts of him iced over, head and heart numb while his body carried on following orders. 

She sits up and stretches, making her shirt ride up, and he notices bruises on her hips, wrapping around the side. 

“Did I do that?” he asks, voice thin. 

She looks down like she didn’t notice. “Probably.” 

He tugs the waistband of her yoga pants down a little and finds the shape of a handprint, stained purple. She twists to show him a matching set on the other side. They’re more defined on the side he was gripping with his metal hand last night. He feels cold all over. 

“Sorry.” 

“No biggie.” 

He’s too scared to meet her eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I would never hurt you.” 

“What if I asked you to?” she tosses back, playful and easy. 

Bucky doesn’t know how to react to that. He can’t let her see how badly he wants that, so he just freezes like a deer in headlights, forcing himself to go still, to shut down, to say nothing.  

“Whoa, hey, don’t do that,” she says, and she moves into his space slowly, deliberately, giving him time to tell her to stop. He blinks at her, and she smiles, soothing. 

He spent the first month of their relationship waiting for her to turn and run. It’s gotten better, but… 

“Why the hell do you trust me?” he blurts out. 

She frowns, and hesitates, and he wants to reach up and smooth out the little frown line that forms between her eyebrows, but he doesn’t. She curls up against him and kisses his jaw. 

“Would you ever choose to hurt me?” she asks. 

“No.” 

“There you go.” He feels the movement when she shrugs, as if it’s that easy. “You control your choices. That’s it.” 

“But I —” 

“No buts,” she interrupts, and her voice is firm. “I choose to trust you and you don’t get to talk me out of it.” 

Bucky lets out a huff of not-quite-laughter at that. She’s stubborn as hell when she wants to be, and he knows better than to argue. 

“Okay,” he says, and wraps his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. She settles closer, her breath a warm damp tickle against the side of his neck. 

His body used to be a weapon. 

“You can’t blame yourself for things that are out of your control,” she mumbles, as if she heard him. 

He takes a deep breath and says it again: “Okay.” 

He can see her reflection in the mirror; she bites her lip, teeth white against her bright red lipstick, trying to hold back, but the whimpers are getting louder by the second as he fucks her harder. She’s bracing herself with her forearms on the sink, her entire body shaking with each sharp thrust. 

“Shhhh,” Bucky says, half-laughing, but he doesn’t slow down. 

He’s pretty sure this was her plan all along. They barely made it an hour into the party before she tugged him into the bathroom, and usually he would protest, but he’s been half-hard since he first saw her in that damn outfit. 

She opened the door earlier looking like a pinup, complete with glossy curls and red lips and this dress: flared skirt, nipped-in waist, curves threatening to spill over the scooped-low neckline. He had just stuttered for a few seconds as a wisp of memory cast a sepia glow over her pleased smile. 

He used to have a dog-eared print of one of those calendar girls, and it was tame compared to some that were carried to war, but there was something warm in her smile that made him hold onto it. He used to daydream about her waiting at home, welcoming him at the door, when everything else was heavy and grey. He used to look at her smile when he couldn’t bear to close his eyes, knowing he’d only see blood. They took it when he was captured, of course, but he used to imagine — 

— this, he used to imagine this, the way the skirt is rucked up around her hips and she’s bent at the waist, the way she stretches open around the shiny-wet length of his cock. 

He has a flash of certainty that this is just a fantasy, something he’s imagining desperately as he fucks his own fist and tries not to make a sound, pressing his other palm to his mouth to muffle his labored breathing. He’s picturing this so vividly that when he opens his eyes and sees the stars, framed by the caved-in ceiling of another bombed-out shell of a building, he’ll have to fight back tears of disappointment. 

The sight of her face in the mirror is utterly pornographic, threatening to send him over the edge too soon, but when he looks down, he can see the way her ass bounces and jiggles as she shoves herself back to meet each thrust, and that’s goddamn obscene too. Bucky’s imagination has never been this good. 

She’s so close, too close to stay silent, and just as she lets out a high-pitched, keening moan, there are footsteps right outside the door. 

He reacts instinctively, before he can think better of it; he slaps his hand over her mouth, muffling the sound against his palm — the metal one, he realizes, a split-second too late. 

Their eyes meet in the mirror for one wild heartbeat. Her skin looks dangerously soft under silver fingers that could so easily break the fragile jawbone they grip. 

Then her eyes roll back in her head, and her orgasm blindsides both of them with its intensity. If he wasn’t silencing her, she would’ve shouted, he’s pretty sure; she spasms violently against his grip, writhing like she’s trying to shake him off, and — 

— he imagines her struggling, fighting back, until he pins her against the wall and — 

— it hits him like a gut-punch. He doubles over, curling himself around her as he comes with a rough shocked grunt, and the white-out lightning-bolt electroshock feel of it is so incredible he forgets, for a few seconds; he just buries his face in those curls and kisses the nape of her neck. 

He straightens up and realizes her lipstick is smeared over the metal hand, deep crimson red. 

“God, we’re a mess,” she laughs breathlessly. She turns to kiss him, eyes sparkling, and then they have to clean up, put themselves back together, and he brushes it off. 

It was probably a memory, a ghost whose features he confused with hers in one fevered second. Unwanted memories — 

— dreams — flashbacks — fantasies — hallucinations — 

— invade his reality every day. 

It didn’t feel like a memory, though. 

She smiles, and there’s no doubt in his mind that the smile is real, so Bucky swallows his guilt and smiles back. Her hand is warm in his. 

There’s a knife in his hand and blood on the floor. 

It’s messy, but those were his orders. Easier to frame the mistress this way. At least the carving knife was sharp. Red drips down the blade onto the metal fingers.  

He’s about to place it next to the corpse when he hears the gasp. The mistress had been asleep four minutes ago, but people are unpredictable that way. 

Messy. 

The Soldier pivots, finds her standing in the doorway, hand over her mouth, eyes wide. She’s paralyzed by fear, like a deer in headlights as he stalks closer. Usually they run. Sometimes they fight back. This one just stares. 

“I won’t say anything,” she whispers. “I didn’t see —” He grabs her wrist, and she shrieks, trying to twist away, until he pins her against the wall and holds her in place. Tears start to roll down her cheeks. “No, please, I’ll do anything you want — just don’t kill me! You can — anything, I promise, I won’t struggle! Do you want —” 

“Want” is buried deep under the ice. “Want” is for bodies that are warm and soft and human. The Soldier is a weapon.

He presses the knife into her hand and forces her fingers to close around the handle. She was supposed to be asleep. 

She’ll be blamed, one way or another, but maybe it’s better this way. Cleaner. 

No witnesses. It’s an order. 

Bucky wakes up. He’s trembling, sitting up with his hands twisted in the sheets, but it’s not as bad as it could be. She’s sitting up next to him, one gentle hand on his chest as she watches with wide sad eyes. 

“Sorry,” he chokes out. “Fuck, I hate waking you up.” 

“Almost time anyway,” she says, which is when he realizes that it’s morning. Sunlight is streaming in through the sheer curtains. He settles back against the headboard, taking it in. They’re both naked, with her big downy comforter around their waists, and the residual chill of memory thaws immediately in the cozy warmth of her bed. 

She leans in hesitantly and brushes her lips against his. He can read the worry plain on her face — she doesn’t know what he needs right now — but he tugs her onto his lap, tilts his head back, mouth opening easily under hers for slow lazy kisses that stretch like taffy and then turn deep and dirty. She swears like a sailor as she sinks down slowly onto his cock. 

Christ, she’s gorgeous. 

It must be real. He could never hallucinate something so flawed and incredible as the way she looks naked, the stretch marks under his palms, the calluses on her fingers when she cups his jaw, the way she moans when he plants his feet on the bed and fucks up into her. 

She’s flushed and dewy with sweat, moaning in the sharp bitten-off way that means he found just the right angle, and her thighs are shaking hard enough that he has to grip her hips and hold her steady. He can feel her starting to get close, clenching and flooded around him, when her alarm goes off. 

“Cocksucking motherfucker,” she snarls. 

They both look helplessly at the phone, just out of easy reach on the nightstand. Bucky’s tempted to just ignore it, but she’s already leaning over. She twists at the waist but doesn’t stop rocking her hips down against him, squeezing in little pulses like she can’t help herself, so he settles her more firmly on his lap, holding her weight and anchoring her as she reaches for it. He works his right hand down between them, an awkward angle that’s totally worth it when he can rub her clit with the pad of his thumb and feel her spasm around his cock. 

“Five more minutes,” he suggests breathlessly. 

“Not gonna need that long if you keep doing that.” She trembles and almost collapses before finally grabbing the phone, and she hits the snooze button immediately. 

He’s already rolling his hips, grinding in deep, and he must hit something just right at the same moment she starts to straighten up; it makes her twitch, jerking uncontrollably against him as she moves, and her elbow cracks across his jaw, snapping his head to the side hard enough to rattle his teeth. 

“Shit!” she hisses, and then: “I’m so sorry, I — are you —” 

But the rough throb of pain hit like a swell of heat in Bucky’s gut, making him jerk up into her and shudder with pleasure. He lets his head loll, taking a deep heaving breath and letting it out as a moan. 

It’s not until he tilts his head back to look at her stunned face that he realizes what just happened. His cheeks burn but she doesn’t look disgusted; her eyes go all heavy-lidded and she bites her lip as she starts to ride him again, swiveling her hips. 

He’s opening his mouth to make some excuse, to deny it, when she leans in for a bruising kiss: teeth scraping his lower lip, a whimper rough in her throat, cunt silky-hot and soaked, so good his head is spinning. 

Then she asks raggedly, “Do you want me to do that again?” 

Without even thinking about it, he blurts out, “Yes.” 

Her palm connects with his cheek, a sharp sting that draws a guttural sound from deep in his chest. He moves on pure primal instinct, gripping her hips to slam her down on his cock. 

From there it’s rough and frantic and desperate. He’s only dimly aware of the way she moans, bucking against him, the way they’re moving against each other like animals, the way she bites his lip so hard he tastes copper and then he’s gone, coming so hard his vision goes white with the first intense pulses of it. She shudders as she follows him, riding out the shocks of pleasure with her forehead pressed to his and her hands in his hair. 

He shivers against her, breath hitching as reality washes in like ice water. 

“I can feel you freaking out,” she mumbles. “What, they didn’t have kink in the thirties?”

It surprises Bucky enough that he lets out a huff of laughter. “No. Not exactly.” 

“Why is this freaking you out?” 

He stutters for a second before he manages, “What’s wrong with me?” 

She sits up and looks at him intently. “Fucking nothing.” 

“That should be the last thing I want,” Bucky mutters, cheeks burning. 

“That’s not how it works,” she snaps. “Sex isn’t — it doesn’t always make sense. It’s messy.” 

“I’ve had enough of hurting people for a fuckin’ lifetime.” 

There’s something vulnerable in her sheepish half-smile. “Sometimes your body likes shit it shouldn’t. You can’t control what gets you off. Believe me, sweetheart.” 

He blinks, ready to question that, and she leans in for a quick kiss. As if on cue, her alarm goes off again. 

“Fuck.” 

“I gotta go,” she says reluctantly. “But later — later we’re going to talk about some things. Okay?” 

He doesn’t say it out loud, but he thinks it very clearly in that moment: I love you. 

“Okay.” 

The Soldier pins her brutally against the wall, one hand around her wrists, the other around her throat. He doesn’t squeeze, not yet, just holds her there and savors the thrill; she’s writhing and lashing out at him like a caged animal, but he’s got her and she knows it. 

It’s beautiful, the way she snarls and tries to struggle. 

He wants —

 — so this must be a normal dream, not a memory, but — 

— he wants to fuck her just like this, up against the wall, and —

— his hips jerk and his cock throbs, and — 

— fuck, he wants her. 

“Baby?” Her voice comes out as a sleep-slurred moan. 

He tries to blink away the dream, but instead he’s rolling over and pinning her, rocking his hips down before he can stop himself. She sucks in a breath, spreading her legs to meet the next slow thrust, and she blinks dazedly up at him, mouth dropping open as they rut against each other. 

“What was it?” she asks, raspy and heated. 

He lets out a pained sound and drops his head, hunching to bury his face in the crook of her neck. He’s so goddamn hard, so close, all over a fucked-up dream, and — 

“I was holding you — up against the wall. Your wrists.” 

“Yeah?” she says, voice smoky and eager. “Remember what we talked about?” 

“Traffic lights. Red if you want me to stop.” 

“Do it.”  

Oh. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Fuck yes.” 

He snatches her wrists and crosses them over her head, watching the way her lashes flutter at the touch of metal, the way she bites her lip. She shifts under him, squirming until the length of him is slotted up against her slickness and her legs are up around his hips. 

He slides in slow, relishing every inch, her body welcoming him with living dripping heat. She arches up, and he adjusts his grip on her wrists, squeezing slightly as he braces himself. All he wants in the entire damn universe is to drive into her, piston his hips until she’s screaming, but he starts to fuck her with steady even thrusts, holding back, trying to let go of the last lingering doubts. 

“Doesn’t this scare you?” Bucky asks hoarsely. “That you’re trapped.” 

She lets out a moan that sure as hell doesn’t sound like fear. This isn’t a dream any more, but it still feels surreal. 

“Yellow,” she says.  

“Shit. What’s wrong?” He tries to pull away, but she’s got her ankles hooked, keeping him in place with her legs. He lets go of her wrists, at least, and hauls in a deep breath, trying to make sense of that fierce expression on her face. 

“Nothing. I just wanted you to see that you’re in control. You chose to stop.” 

He swallows hard. “Yeah. I did.” 

“Stop punishing your body for wanting this,” she says. 

His breath catches, and for a moment all he can do is stare. She gives him a smile so soft it threatens to rip him open.

Then he curls his fingers around her wrists again — they’re still crossed, right where he left them. He waits for her nod. 

“Green.” 

Companion fic is here. 

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Heroic Incompetence.”

Wrote this at the suggestion of an anonymous reader :) Hope you all like it and have a great day :)

He sat next to her on the bed, legs crossed and a book in his lap. Wearing only shorts and a T- shirt, he looked significantly smaller than he usually did, either in his uniform or in his trademark jacket and jeans. It also made him look significantly younger with his scruffy blond hair sticking up in all directions. And now that he had finally shaved and gotten some sleep, he was looking even better than he had when he found her.

Her perception probably wasn’t helped by the stack of graphic novels he had sitting beside his right knee, most of them star wars themed all of them sci-fi. He had taken the day off to sit with her since the drugs were still not cleared from her system, and krill had demanded that she rest.

She had only been a little surprised when he insisted that she take his bed, which he argued was much bigger and more comfortable than the crew quarters. Also he had a TV.

She was surprised he would be so brash about something like that, but she supposed after almost losing her he would be a little more lax on their secret. She sighed deeply half napping half awake as he flipped through his books. She had a sneaking suspicion that he also wanted to be close by her to monitor her mental state after what had happened. She didn’t blame him, though at this point it was all just seeming like some sort of horrible dream.

She felt disconnected, far away, and her only reminder that it had actually happened came from the silver vambrace on her am  covering the spot where her carapace would never grow again 

Eventually she cracked an eye and glanced down at him.

He was looking at her with a concerned expression.

She sighed, “I’m fine.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I know what you were thinking.”

“Well stop trying to read my mind then.”

The two of them grew quiet, “So what did I miss while I was gone…. How did you find me, what happened?”

He sat up, puffing out his chest rather proudly, “Well I have you know I was a stoic badass the entire time. After I clawed my way out of the sand, I marched across the desert with single minded determination not an ounce of hopelessness or self pity ever entering my mind.”

***

One month prior

-

It was Hopeless!

He had never felt self pity this profound in his entire life! He had lost her1 He had been so close to finding her and he had gone and lost her! He was hopeless and pathetic. If he had only just held on for a little longer than maybe he would have been able to save her. His feet burned in the scorching desert sand and he staggered aimlessly from one side to the next burning up in the scorching heat. His was so tired, and his throat was so dry, like sand. He felt like choking, a few times he staggered to his knees and screamed at the yellow green sky in anger and frustration,but no one ever hard him.

He had to get her back, somehow he had to get her back.

The desert sand was awash with light blue, like the sky and it seemed to be the same in all directions he looked, every dune and hill just like the last, yet the implant in his arm told him he was heading in the right direction. How long had he chased her before he had fallen into the sand. He just wanted to lay down for a minute, lay down for a minute and scream, but he had to keep going.

He pushed himself up the nearest sand dune hoping beyond hope that he would see the city over the next rise.

That is when he heard it, just from behind him.

The roaring of shuttle engines.

He turned on the spot down to stare at the shuttles. He wanted to yell  and wave his arms, to run to them and beg them to help find Sunny, but NO, he couldn’t, he couldnt be like this.

Kicking himself internally for his weakness, he straightened up and forced himself to focus as the shuttles landed. He was going to find Sunny, he was going to find her and bring her back no matter the cost. There was nothing, not in this universe, not in heaven nor hell that could stop him.

Even if he had to fight angels and shake hands with the devil.

The shuttles landed, and he marched forward head down brows furrowed downward like thunderheads brushing past the marines and onto the shuttle. He was going to to find whoever had one this and they were going to pay.

***

Sunny snorted and raised a brow over one eye, “Oh really.”

“Damn straight.” He said, setting down his book and turning to look at her. He had a shallow cut across one cheek given to him during a fight in some not so distant past, but his smile was as bright as ever.

He leaned forward, crawling over on hands and knees to lay next to her resting his hands behind his head.

“So after your stoic badassery in the desert, what happened.”

He rolled onto his side to look at her, the corner of his mouth twitching up in a jaunty smile. “Well, I admit that I was a little bit down, obviously. I mean what does someone do without the best part of their life.” He waved a hand dismissively, “But I persevered. I kept my emotions in check sure not a tear would escape past me until I found you, and even then, only if I was too late.” he looked at herein that moment very seriously, “You know, because real men don’t cry.”

Sunny just smirked.

***

One month Prior

-

He couldn't stop crying. While he could suppress the racking sobs that threatened to tear him in half, nothing he tried could prevent the tears from rolling down his face on hot and heavy streams. Where was it all coming from! He was positive that by now his entire body should be nothing more than a mummified corpse with all of the tears he had shed, yet they just would not stop, likely draining down through his sinuses and reabsorbing back into his body for another go.

Still, the collar of his shirt was soaked, and his face was sticky with tears eyelashes crusted with salt.

His head pounded.

Ever since she had vanished, he just couldn’t keep his emotions in check. He admitted to himself that he often played fast and loose with his own feelings, but this was just ridiculous. Holding himself together for the crew was all he could do though beyond that he was a quivering mess, hiding on the bridge in the observation room, or in his own room where no one could see him.

Now he was standing on the observation deck, the tears rolling down his face and into the scruffy five o clock shadow just sprouting on his cheeks and chin.

Light filtered in from behind him, and in that light, he could detect the movement of shadows, two tall shadows and one very short shadow. He knew that the were watching him, and so kept his back straight and hands clasped behind his back so as to seem hard and contemplative.

Inside, he was forcing himself to calm, forbidding the tears to fall anymore and, hopefully, dry on his face before anyone could come and speak with him. He needed to remain calm and professional. He needed to convince the others that he was in charge, and that everything would be ok.

The moment they saw him believing otherwise was the moment that it would be true. As their commanding officer…. As their admiral, he was what stood between them and hopeless defeat at the hands of their own morale.”

***

She shifted a little in her place, and he helped to adjust the pillow behind her. He sat up against the headboard, and she made the executive decision, leaning her head down to rest on his lap. He wrapped an arm around her, resting his hand on her back, while the other was leaned up against the top of the headboard where a jar of moon rocks and mars dirt sat

He stroked his fingers over the side of her cheek and she hummed softly, “So You were an emotionless badass superhero out for revenge against those who had wronged you, and in the shadows you brooded and waited as you scoured the universe for me?”

He smirked, “PRretty much.”

She hummed again deep in her throat adjusting her head against the warmth of his body, “Right…. A righteous warrior of justice. And I assume during all of this you remained in tortuous silence of our secret, unable to tell anyone of your private pain for fear of what might happen if you let something slip.”

He was quiet for a moment, and she cracked an eye to look up at him.

His one eye was very wide, like a deer caught in the headlights.

She shut her eyes and hummed.

“Yes of course, I wallowed heroically in silence my emotions bottled up, locked like a vault inside my heart with the key tossed into the darkest abyss of the ocean where no one migh find it. I couldn’t tell anyone.”

***

One Month prior

-

He had to tell someone. He had to, it was just too much to keep a secret. It was just too much for someone not to know what he was feeling. Just one person, if he could just share with one person maybe he would feel better. 

Keeping himself…. Like this was just torture…. No one could expect…

He had to do it.

Standing behind him in the darkness, he could sense Ramirez’s eyes on him, watching him.

So he turned, his eyes clear but the words heavy as lead on his tongue. The other man stared at him, his expression hard to read in the darkness.

He felt as if he was slipping out of his body, seeing himself from the outsider rather than viewing the next words he spoke from the inside as he normally should, “I...Love her Ramirez… I don’t know what I’ll do without her.”

The words rolled from his tongue and spilled onto reality…. He had finally admitted it, finally admitted it to his best friend.

What would he do.

How would he react?

Staring at the man’s face, he was surprised to find that he didn't appear to be phased in the slightest. It was as if he had just told him that the earth turns, and some birds fly south for the winter. He acted as if it was the most natural predictable phenomena in the universe.

There was only a slight pressure as Ramirez squeezed his shoulder, “I know… I know.”

Adam stepped back in near surprise.

Ramirez almost rolled his eyes, “Adam you have all but SAID those words. I think everyone on the ship, or at least everyone from the original Harbinger knows by now. You guys aren’t exactly discreet about your feelings towards each other. This shouldn’t surprise you.

He sat there mouth opening and closing with surprise.

But he supposed the more he thought about it the more he had to admit Ramirez was right.

There were signs.

And he had always been bad at keeping secrets.

It made complete sense.

He dropped his head, “that obvious huh.”

“Does the moon orbit the earth?”

He took a seat dropping his head into his hands, “You must think I’m nuts.”

Ramirez sat next to him placing a hand on his shoulder, “Seriously, ‘me’ think ‘you’ crazy. Adam, c’mon, I have dated people way crazier than Sunny, and that’s a fact. No one can beat me when it comes to psycho exes.

When he didn’t respond, Ramirez placed a hand on his shoulder, “We are going to find her Adam. I promise. If anyone in this galaxy has the connections, or the know how to find her, it is you.”

He nodded.

He had to believe it, he just had to.

***

Sunny reached up wrapping her fingers through his, five to four, “A tragic hero indeed.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, “You know, that's me.”

“How did you eventually find me anyway, after all, it is a big universe, and even with all your resources, it couldn’t have been easy.”

He shook his head, “No, it wasn’t. For the first few weeks we had no leads at all, but it was actually your brother who came up with the final lead that led me to you. Turns out your big brother has connections that I didn’t know about, and they led us to a fence hiding out in some grimy hotel downtown in noctropolis.”

“Oh, and how did you manage to swing all that? You and my brother went in guns blazing did you?”

A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. “We were a well oiled machine, a precision instrument of stealth and intimidation. No one has even been more synchronized than us. The operation could not have gone more smoothly.” 

***

About a week and a half earlier

-

They were a fucking wreck.

And this night was a wreck to go right along with it.

They were stuck in the seedy elevator of an even seedier hotel jammed up together against Kanan’s immense bulk as he was crunched against the ceiling above in the tiny elevator.

Adam grunted, his face pressed against the elevator’s interior mirror, the metal of the iron eye suit jammed into his back.

“Your fat ass broke the elevator.”

“I didn’t break it.” Kanan complained, “the Weight limit says 800 lbs.”

“They are Tesraki Kanan they LIED.”

“Well why didn’t you think of this before we got in the damn elevator. I’m not from somewhere where we have an elevator.”

Kanan shifted and he was squished further into the wall choking and gasping, “Just pry the damn door open you big lug.”

“I can’t reach.”

“Uh Fine, I’ll do it just let me….”

What followed was a very uncoordinated hustle of grumbling pushing flailing and grunting as the two maneuvered around each other in the most horrible game of twister that ever existed, with entirely to many arms, and pointy bits, until Adam was in the right position to jam the fingers of the iron-eye suit into the cracks and then pull.

The elevator groaned and the metal screeched in protest, but at some point the locking mechanism gave way and he was able to shove the elevator doors open. It was just then when Kanan could no longer hold his position and stumbled forward, knocking into Adam who, in turn burst from the elevator and flew headfirst into an unsuspecting Tesraki, who only had a moment to let off the first notes of a scream before being slammed into the wall and completely knocked out.

An explosion of towels fell to the floor around them as Adam sat up on his knees staring down at the Tesraki, completely knocked out, their tongue hanging out of their mouth.

“Shit.”

He patted the Tesraki on the cheek, “Uh wake up.” The Tesraki’s head fell to the side, tongue still lolling.

“Shit.” He said again as Kanan pried himself from the elevator nearly tripping over a towel and landing on top of the two of them for a second time. He did manage to avoid falling on them, but in his haste, to avoid doing just that, he tripped over Adam and went pitching into the floor sending up another wave of towels.

Adam glowered at him, “Are you serious right now.”

Kanan sat up rubbing his head.

“Help me fold these towels.” Adam snarled, awkwardly propping the unconscious Tesraki against the wall before grabbing a pile of fallen towels.

Kanan took one of the towels and stared at it, fiddling around for a moment.

Adam stared at him again, “You have four arms, Kanan, seriously.’

The Drev flipped him a rude gesture.

After a while they had one unconscious Tesraki, and a stack of poorly folded towels leaning heavily against the wall in an uneven pile.

Adam stood and brushed off his hands, staring down at the floppy Tesraki and their shoddy work.

“Er…. hm.” Then a grim smile split his face, “I have an idea.”

A few moments later the two of them waddled down the hall carrying stacks of towels, leaving the Tesraki to slowly slump to the floor skidding slowly down the wall with the soft brushing noise of fur.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Kanan muttered from behind his stack of towels, “I wouldn’t believe it.”

‘It’ll be fine, I promise”, he said as he raised his hand to knock on the waiting door.

***

Sunny couldn’t stop from snorting. And he stared down at her with his brows furrowed as she began to laugh, “You jest, but its true.”

She continued to laugh, and eventually he joined in with her.”

“So how about the boarding party, how did that go.”

He shrugged, “it was pretty straightforward. We found where their ship was located, deployed the gravity grapples, and then had our AI hack their airlock to open it for us. When we got inside kanan and I did a quick sweep with the marines covering us from behind. Of course you know the rest.’

She smiled a bit, “I kind of like you when your angry. That part where you smashed the saw into his foot….well I have never found you so attractive.”

The two of them laughed again.

And he leaned further back against his pillows.

The room went quiet for a moment.

She looked up at him.

“That was all a lie wasn’t it.”

“Yep.”

“You crawled out of that sand hopeless and miserable didn’t you?”

“yeah , I have to admit that I wasn’t doing too good. Kind of hard not to be hopeless in the scorching desert heat. But I did mange to pull myself together when we got back on the shuttles.”

“You cried like a baby didn’t you.”

“You would think after like an entire day of on and off tears, at some point the body wouldn’t be able to produce any more water.” He shook his head, “But no, as it turns out it just squeezes out more water while simultaneously giving you the more horrible headache you can possibly imagine. Even Waffles got tired of it after some point, and she has the patience of a saint.”

Sunny couldn’t help but laugh. Of course the thought of Adam so upset was horrible but, but there was just something so funny about it all, about him, about the way he had bounced back from all of that.”

“Let me guess, Ramirez knows?”

Adam sighed, “yeah, he knows, but he told me that the entire ship pretty much knows and to stop deluding ourselves into thinking we are good at keeping secrets.”

Sunny turned her head to look at him, “And he is just fine with this?”

“This IS Ramirez we are talking about Sunny. I could be dating the tentacle monster and he wouldn't bat an eye, probably say something about how he’s seen weirder, or talk about some guy he dated that might as well have had tentacles.”

“How about that thing with you and my brother?”

Adam snorted, “it wasn’t funny at the time, but looking back on it, the sheer incompetence that the two of us managed to pull off and STILL rescue you is absolutely astounding.”

She continued to laugh, pulling him closer in the process.

He laughed with her, and she decided once and for all that that washer favorite sound. No matter what, It was a sound she would never get tired of, and spent a few moments basking in the glow.

After a moment, she paused and sat up to lean against him nuzzling the hair on his head lightly with her cheek, “Adam?

“Yes.”

“Not to make this too serious or anything, but I just… well I need you to know you aret incompetent.”

He looked up at her eyebrow slanted slightly up, seeming surprised.

“You aren’t incompitent, you’re a hero and a warrior, and you should remember that.”

A small smile flickered at the corner of his mouth, “Well how could I possibly disagree with you”

“You can’t.” She rested a hand on his, “Like you always say, It’s not stupid if it works.”

[allsassnoclass]

hi hazel!! how about “i got you for secret santa so i got you this really expensive but sentimental gift that you’ve always wanted, hoping you’ll never find out it’s from me - and that i’ve been in love with you 1234567 years” with hmmmm mashton? maybe? feels mashton-y to me but whatever u think works best is good with me <3 love you <3

anything for you Iba <3

Ficmas day 10

Rating: T for language

Read on AO3

Getting Ashton for Secret Santa is both a blessing and a curse: a blessing because Michael already knows what he wants to give him, a curse because he wants to give him the world.  Well, more accurately he wants to give him the entire universe.

Ashton Irwin is arguably the universe’s finest creation, founded on stardust and made up of infinite galaxies.  Michael has been in love with him since around the time they met.  Ashton deserves something as wonderful and celestial as himself, but that would require Michael to suddenly develop the ability to trap the universe in the palm of his hands, cradled close until he could hand it off to someone worthy enough to hold it.  Even if he could, the universe seems like a fragile thing.  He’d probably drop it, knowing him.

Maybe getting Ashton was more of a curse than a blessing.  If he can’t give him some sort of celestial body, he’s out of ideas.  It’s probably for the best, because he’s not exactly keen on letting Ashton know that he’s been in love with him for so long, and you can’t give someone the entire universe without prompting a few questions.

He seeks out Calum for advice, because Calum is great at gifts, but he doesn’t want him to know who he got so he asks what he would give Luke instead.

It turns out Calum is so great at gifts because he knows exactly what each person needs.  Knowing what Luke needs does nothing to help Michael figure out what to get Ashton.

Michael spends a lot of time googling stuff like good gifts for friends and good gifts for crushes and then backtracks, because most of those imply that he would be revealing his crush.  The search for good gifts for someone you’re in love with who is also one of your best friends WITHOUT letting them know you love them but still the best present yields no useful results.  Michael doesn’t want to regurgitate generic “sentimental” gifts suggested in lists on various websites, he wants something that Ashton will truly appreciate.  He wants to get him something that only someone who knows him would give him.

He’s pretty sure buying presents isn’t supposed to make you want to pull out all of your hair, but Michael wants to pull out all of his hair.  The one solace is that they selected their people early, so he still has a lot of time to figure out a suitable present.

-/-

Michael mostly forgets about the stresses of Secret Santa for a while.  He has to get presents for other people, too, so he focuses on that, and decorating the house, and baking some Christmas cookies, and everything except Ashton’s present.  Unfortunately, this means that by the time Ashton hosts his yearly It’s a Wonderful Life watch party, it’s late enough that Michael should start panicking a little.

Each year, Ashton invites as many friends as can fit in his basement over to watch his favorite Christmas movie.  He used to watch it with his mom every year, and even though they live physically far apart he once told Michael that it makes him feel closer to her.  Over the years, the night has turned into an entire event.  Ashton sets up a projector and prepares more snacks than can be eaten.  Michael attends every year, even though the movie seems to get longer every time he watches it.  Last year he kept dozing off, enough so that Ashton had let him curl on the couch with his head in his lap and sleep for most of the second half.  The weight of Ashton’s hand resting on his shoulder and the occasional gentle fingers brushing over his hair are something Michael thinks about often.

This year he ends up in an armchair, Luke between his legs on the floor and Ashton all the way on the other side of the room.  It makes him focus on the movie a bit more, and during the scene where George asks what Mary wants and says he’ll lasso the moon Michael thinks yeah dude, you get it.

Unfortunately he is not George and Ashton is not Mary, and by the time he leaves his house that night, lingering late enough that Ashton offers to let him stay, he is no closer to figuring out his gift.

-/-

Michael can’t lasso the moon, but maybe he was onto something there.

He can’t stop thinking about space.  Ashton has always had an appreciation for it, but since his trip to the desert where he was finally able to see the Milky Way unobstructed he’s developed a new fascination with it.  He’s not going to be an astronomer, but he knows more about constellations than Michael does, and he knows a lot about astrology even if he doesn’t fully believe in it.

Michael has wanted to give him the universe this entire time.  Maybe instead of finding a different present, he should focus on figuring out a way to do that.

Maybe he should just get Ashton one of those model solar system kits that kids assemble for science projects.  That would be giving him the universe in a punny way that he might appreciate, but then he’ll have to explain that give you the universe was his original goal, which will still prompt questions.  Without that sentiment, it’s kind of a crummy gift.

He needs something that isn’t punny but that manages to accomplish his goal without revealing that he’s in love.  He’ll find a way to accomplish that out of sheer stubbornness if he has to.

-/-

Schedules don’t properly align for a full group Secret Santa exchange, so everyone is tasked with contacting their present recipient and setting up a time to give them their gift.  Michael sends Ashton a text that reads hey when do you want your secret santa present and gets a string of emojis in response.  Eventually he manages to wrangle a time from him and loads the present into his car.

It’s a decent gift, in his opinion.  He’s both relieved and nervous about having to give it to Ashton without the full group, because there’s significantly less people who can judge him but there’s significantly more opportunity for Ashton to ask uncomfortable questions.

The drive feels longer than it should.  That doesn’t bode well.

Michael lets himself in once he gets to the house, because there’s no telling where inside Ashton might be.  He calls his name and gets an answer in the direction of the bedroom, toeing off his shoes and getting rid of his coat before setting off towards his destination.  Ashton is sitting on the bed, scribbling something furiously in a journal.  Michael waits until he’s done and tosses the small leather book aside to fully enter the space.

“Hi,” Ashton says, beaming.

“Hi,” Michael says.  “Special delivery.”

The package in his hands is rectangular and flat, covered with shiny red and green paper.  Ashton eyes it curiously, taking it when offered and frowning at the weight.

“There’s a few parts, so be careful,” Michael says.

“I will.”

Ashton tears through the paper inelegantly, strips of it floating down to the floor, and Michael watches him read the framed certificate on top.

“I got you a star,” Michael says.  “That’s the certificate for it, and it’s under your name in a database.  There’s a star map, so you can try to find it the next time you have a clear sky.”

“Michael, this is amazing,” Ashton says, aglow with enthusiasm.  “This is so fucking cool!”

He looks at the star map, eyes tracking over the many tiny dots on it and the one circled that’s his.

“Wow.  My very own star.”

It wasn't quite the whole universe or lassoing the moon, but Michael thinks he did alright given the circumstances.

The next frame is a bit bigger, a blue background with a white star chart and lettering at the bottom that reads July 7, 1994 - a star is born.

“Tell me something, boy,” Ashton croons.  “Which one of us is Lady Gaga and which one of us is Bradley Cooper?”

“Neither of us,” Michael sighs.  He wants to facepalm.  He knew this was a risk when he put that inscription.  “Did you even watch that movie?  You want us to end up like them?”

“No,” Ashton says.

“You’re the star,” Michael says.  “It’s a map of the sky when you were born.  I thought it was a fitting caption.”

“Aw,” Ashton says.  “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“You don’t have to make fun,” Michael says, embarrassment flaring inside him.  This was a last-minute decision off one of those generic lists, and he’s regretting it.  Getting teased for his crush was not something he anticipated nor wanted today, especially since Ashton should know better.

“I’m not making fun,” Ashton says, tearing his eyes away from the chart to look up at Michael and frown.  “You just compared me to an actual celestial body.  That’s really fucking sweet.  The only thing sweeter would be if someone wrote me a proper love song.”

Michael could try his hand at that.

He shrugs.

“It’s almost romantic,” Ashton says.  Michael’s breath freezes in his chest.  Ashton puts the gifts down on his bed and shifts so he can face Michael fully, eyes assessing.

“Do you have feelings for me?” he asks.

Brush it off, Michael tells himself.  Laugh and call him bro and say you don’t.

There seems to be a communication delay between his mind and his body, because Michael doesn’t do any of those things.  He stands there like a deer in headlights, paralyzed the longer Ashton looks at him.

“It’s okay if you do,” Ashton says.  “I just want to know.”

Well what the fuck is he supposed to say to that?

No!

What comes out sounds more like a choking cat.

“Okay,” Ashton says.  “You want to sit down?”

Again the answer is no, but that word seems to have left his vocabulary, so he sinks onto the bed next to Ashton.  He reaches out a gentle hand and places it on his forearm.

“You know, you not saying anything is making me nervous, but I’m just going to keep going.  You can tell me to stop at any time,” Ashton says.  “I like you, and I’ve been getting the impression that you like me, too.  If that’s wrong, then correct me, but if that’s right then you don’t have to be embarrassed or upset, because it’s mutual.”

Michael turns the words over in his head, giving them a second perusal to ensure he had heard correctly.

“What?”

“Oh, he speaks,” Ashton says dryly.

“I was not picking up any vibes from you,” Michael says.  “Now you expect me to believe you like me?”

“Well it’s not like I wanted you to know,” Ashton says.  “Seriously, do you think I let anyone sleep through It’s a Wonderful Life?  You got lucky last year because I like you.”

Now that he thinks about it, Ashton might have a point.  Other people who doze off get food thrown at them with the excuse that they should have stayed home if they were planning on sleeping.

“Huh,” Michael says.

“So,” Ashton says, “do you like me?  You never actually confirmed it.”

“Oh.  Yeah, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Look, I’m processing a lot right now.  I bought you a fucking star, Ashton.  Use your context clues.”

“Use my context clues?  What are you, my literature teacher?”

“What about your boyfriend?”

Nice.  That was smooth.

Ashton smiles.  Just like that, the bridge Michael was standing on made of their banter melts into a gooey mess, dropping him into a bunch of sappy feelings below.  He could bask in that smile forever, shining brighter than all of the stars in the sky.

“That sounds good to me,” Ashton says.  Michael smiles shyly back, something that makes Ashton’s eyes crinkle at the edges.  He reaches out and squeezes his hand, something he’s going to be able to do freely now, and Ashton tangles their fingers together.

All things considered, Michael thinks he one-upped George Bailey here.  George said he was going to lasso the moon and then didn’t even do that.  Michael bought Ashton a whole fucking star and got his own star in return.  He’s probably the luckiest man in the universe.

[bing-fucker]

I'm here!! Didn't you mention that Chase would be werewolf a while back in a monster au? 👀 can you imagine him getting with someone and they see his knot and *beg* for it??? -RA

:3 I love this idea so much.

I'll be honest I do not remember what Jamie was supposed to be in this AU. I think he was supposed to be a demon of some sort, but I don't like that anymore. So for now he's just going to be a human until I settle on something I like.

So I got really into The Magnus Archives recently so Chase ended up being sort of like the werewolf in episode 31 as opposed to a traditional werewolf. But I think it's cool.

And as almost usual, Jamie is trans because I relate to my boy in so many other ways and I like making him trans.

Warnings: Monster fucking, knotting, rough sex, use of cunt and clit to describe a trans man's genitals, accidental arousal, humping, scratching, fang kink, cunnilingus, fear kink, pain kink, overstimulation. As always, ask me to add any necessary warnings!

Jamie wasn't supposed to be outside, especially not at the moment. Technically there wasn't anything bad about being outside in and of itself - it was creepy at night, but he didn't usually mind - but because it was a full moon, he wasn't supposed to be outside. Chase wasn't intentionally dangerous, but he tended to get excited when he saw others and forget that not everyone could handle being tackled by a giant werewolf.

But Henrik had burned popcorn and the smell was overwhelming, so Jamie was sitting on the back porch to escape the smell and watching Chase prowl around the yard. In his human form, Chase was a normal guy. Barely taller than Jamie, with blond hair and a bright smile. In his wolf form, Chase was over six foot tall, his limbs long and coverer in blond fur. He still looked like himself, although his bright blue eyes glowed with an unnatural intensity and his fangs made it hard for him to speak. He was still Chase, of course, just with a few more animalistic tendencies.

Usually, Chase would leave the yard for the woods behind the house. Anti had followed him before and apparently he usually just spent the night hunting deer and giving in to his more animalistic instincts. But tonight he was staying in the yard. Jamie wasn't quite sure why, but it might have been his fault. The full moon was dangerous for anyone who went outside, but Jamie had yet to learn how to properly defend himself. Chase carefully loped up to the porch and Jamie, sniffing around the wood before stopping in front of where Jamie was sitting and sniffing at his legs.

"Hi, Chase," Jamie signed, smiling brightly. He wasn't sure if Chase could understand his signs like this, but he most likely could.

"Hi," Chase replied, resting his head on Jamie's lap a bit like a dog that wanted to be pet. His large fangs made it difficult for him to talk like this, so the word was more an understandable growl than a true word. Jamie smiled softly and pat Chase's hand, blinking slightly. He hadn't expected Chase's fur to be soft. Chase huffed softly before unexpectedly pressing his face against Jamie's groin.

"Chase!" Jamie signed, gently hitting the werewolf's back to make him look at him. "What are you doing!?"

"Scenting you," Chase growled, very gently biting Jamie's vest and dragging him off his chair. Jamie laughed a bit nervously, but allowed him to, more for the sake of his vest than anything else. Chase growled softly in approval when Jamie laid on the porch and climbed on top of him.

"Chase, is that necessary?" Jamie asked, snapping to get his attention.

"Yes," Chase answered, rubbing his face against Jamie's neck. Jamie shuddered slightly when one of Chase's fangs dragged against his throat, blushing. Chase made a sound vaguely like a whimper and pressed his face more against Jamie's throat as his hips thrust weakly against Jamie's thigh.

"Chase!" Jamie signed, although he didn't try to get the werewolf's attention. Chase, predictably, didn't reply. Jamie blushed impossibly brighter as Chase continued humping against his leg, biting his lip as he listened to Chase panting in his ear and felt the wolf's fangs pressed gently against his throat.

"Chase," Jamie repeated, smacking the werewolf's back to get his attention. "This- We are not-"

"You smell good," Chase growled, raking his claws down Jamie's slacks and ripping them off. Jamie was significantly more worried about his clothing than his wellbeing- he trusted Chase not to hurt him. Jamie blushed as Chase pushed his legs apart and pressed his face against Jamie's clothed cunt, the werewolf's hips thrusting against Jamie's calf.

"Too many clothes," Chase growled, tearing Jamie's boxers off and shoving his tongue into Jamie's cunt. Jamie gasped, back arching slightly. He hadn't expected Chase's tongue to be so long and thick. Chase growled softly and pulled away tongue lolling out of his mouth slightly.

"Jamie," Chase growled, very gently dragging his fangs against Jamie's hip before very carefully nipping his hip and sucking the bite. Jamie gasped again but pushed Chase away, holding his hands up to make Chase sit still.

"Chase, we cannot," he said, frowning lightly. "It is- You are shifted." Chase cocked his head, grinning again.

"Do I make you nervous?" Chase asked, circling around Jamie on all fours and watching him carefully. "Are you scared of me, Jamie?"

"No." That was a lie. Chase did scare Jamie, but a good kind of scary. The kind of scary that sent a pleasurable thrill up his spine and made him squeeze his thighs together.

Chase settled on his haunches behind Jamie, once again nuzzling his face against Jamie's throat. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I didn't mean to scare you. Are you mad at me?"

Jamie shook his head, leaning back against Chase slightly. Chase whimpered again, thrusting weakly against Jamie's back. Jamie bit his lip and leaned away from Chase enough so he could turn around to look at the werewolf. Chase cocked his head, licking along his fangs and watching Jamie. Jamie curiously looked down at Chase's groin, immediately whimpering silently. Chase's cock was long and red and weeping and there was something at the base of it. Chase's knot was still small, but based off the size of the rest of Chase's cock, it would get much bigger.

"Jamie?" Chase asked, a bit confused at the younger man's staring.

"Fuck me," Jamie signed instantly.

"I-I thought you didn't want me to touch you," Chase replied, a growl building in his throat but stopping himself from just tackling Jamie the way he wanted to.

"I changed my mind," Jamie replied, biting his lip and spreading his legs slightly. "Fuck me, Chase. I need you. Please."

Chase growled low in his throat and practically tackled Jamie, tearing his vest, shirt, and binder off. Chase quickly leaned up and nuzzled his face against Jamie's chest, nipping one of his breasts gently and sucking a dark mark into it. Jamie moved his hands to hold Chase's shoulders, but that was quickly aborted as Chase wrapped on hand around both of his wrists and pinning them above his head. Jamie shuddered lightly as Chase dragged his fangs down his stomach and nipping at his hips again.

"Hands up," Chase growled, releasing Jamie's wrists. Jamie obediently kept his hands above his head, delicious fear spiking in his stomach as Chase's fangs dragged along his groin and down to his thighs. Jamie whimpered and spread his legs wider, watching Chase and trying to get him to touch his cunt. Chase didn't seem to notice or if he did, he didn't care. Chase growled and gripped Jamie's thighs, digging his claws into the soft flesh.

"Chase, that hurts," Jamie signed. It was a good hurt, though. Jamie had never been one for pain, really, but something about it coming from Chase like this made it send a hot spike of pleasure through him.

Chase growled in response, looking up at Jamie. Jamie shivered at the inhuman look in Chase's eyes. Chase had always had some sense of clarity, but now it was barely there. Like he was truly a monster. Jamie arched his back as Chase finally plunged his tongue back into Jamie's cunt. Chase grunted happily, fucking his tongue in and out of Jamie. Jamie writhed underneath Chase, panting heavily. Chase lifted Jamie's hips and gripped his ass, diging his claws into the soft flesh of his cheeks as he ate him like a starved man- or wolf in this case. Jamie gasped loudly as he came, unable to hold back his orgasm as Chase curled his tongue inside of him.

Chase pulled away slightly, lapping at Jamie's cunt and cleaning off his cum. Jamie whimpered and squirmed as Chase sucked at his clit as best he could. Chase growled quietly, more like a purr than a true growl, and kept pushing Jamie into overstimulation.

"Chase, please," Jamie signed, thumping his head back against the porch as he came again, a bit embarrassed that it took him so little time. Chase finally pulled away from Jamie's cunt and gripped the smaller man's waist, quickly flipping Jamie onto his stomach and pulling his hips up so Jamie's chest was against the porch but his ass was up. Chase 'purred' again and carefully mounted Jamie, digging his claws into Jamie's back and thrusting his cock against Jamie's cunt. Jamie whimpered and tried to angle his hips to get Chase inside of him. Chase whimpered and thrust a few more times before finally the head of his cock caught on Jamie's entrance and he pushed into him properly. Jamie moaned silently when Chase was finally inside of him. Chase howled softly and barely waited for Jamie to adjust before he started to brutally thrust in and out of him.

Jamie moaned silently, rocking his hips back against Chase desperately. "Please," he said, switching to projecting his speech slides into Chase's mind so he could cushion his head with his arms. "Please, Chase harder!"

Chase growled and obeyed Jamie's wishes, fucking the smaller man harder and scratching Jamie's back roughly. Jamie whimper and arched his back, drool dripping from his mouth onto his hands. Chase grunted behind him, growling and moving even faster. If Jamie could have, he would've screamed as he came a third time, tightening around Chase's cock. Chase growled and dug his claws into Jamie's hips again as he forced his knot into Jamie's entrance, howling loudly as he came into the man beneath him. Jamie jerked slightly, moaning as Chase's hot spunk filled him. Chase whimpered softly, and pulled Jamie to his chest before flopping to the side and holding the other man close, licking away the drool and tears Jamie hadn't noticed away.

-

The next morning, Jamie woke up still on the porch, Chase's morning wood still pressed inside of him, but the werewolf himself still asleep, now in his human form. Jamie whimpered softly as he shifted, shaking Chase's shoulder until he blinked open his eyes.

"We are still outside," Jamie signed.

"I know," Chase replied, shifting to lay on top of Jamie like a blanket and burying his face against the other man's neck. "Go back to sleep. Deal with the consequences later."

[incensuous]

sick shark babies

fandom: free! characters: rin & gou, sousuke rating: G, gen words: 3265

read on AO3

When Gou got sick as a kid, nothing made her feel better than sleeping next to her big brother. So, when Rin gets sick, Gou takes it upon herself to take care of him.

Whoa, I guess I had never cross-posted this on tumblr. I can’t believe I wrote this in 2014. It was before I had this blog!! Not sure if it’s worth it to post here, but I still have a soft spot for this fic, even if the writing feels clunkier.

A seven-year-old Rin frowns as his sensitive ears pick up a muffled cough for the thousandth time in the hour.

“Gou, you’re sick,” he points out bluntly. “You need to take medicine.”

His sister petulantly shakes her small head. “No, I feel fine.”

He turns around at his desk to stare at Gou, all curled up in her bed, trying to read her favorite book, the one she always begged their mother to read to her, even when she could do it herself. He’s made the effort to shift his body just so she can get a full view of his spectacular eye roll.

“Take the medicine or else you’ll get worse and then you’ll get everyone sick. If I get sick, Mom won’t let me swim,” he grumbles, as he stands up to walk out of their shared bedroom. He figures he’s getting too old to be sharing his room with his baby sister but it seems like Gou would never be able to take care of herself if he’s not there.

He asks his mom where the cold medicine is and Gou frowns. How could he betray her! She’d done a good job of not coughing too loud so their mom wouldn’t realize her daughter had been feeling under the weather.

Just as Rin finishes asking their mother, she comes in herself with a stern but gentle look with the tell tale small plastic cup, filled with purple liquid.

“Gou, it’ll make you feel better, I promise,” their mother insists. “I’ll let you eat some candy afterwards, okay?”

“Mom, I feel fine,” Gou refutes and backs her small body up to the edge of her bed, as far away as she can get without falling off.

Rin bounds into the room and tries to sweeten the deal for his sister. “I’ll let you pick the next TV show we watch.” He adds, almost reluctantly, “For a whole hour.”

Gou’s red eyes flit between the two. She purses her small lips and breathes deeply before grimacing as only a six-year-old can.

Sensing her daughter relenting, their mother swoops in and holds Gou’s mouth open.

“Pinch your nose, it’ll help,” she gently warns.

When Gou doesn’t move, Rin knows from experience their mother speaks the truth, and reaches over to pinch Gou’s little nose for her.

Gou fidgets, threatening to have the cough syrup spill, and she whines but manages to swallow it all. Her face is mottled in her displeasure and as soon as she gets her mouth clear, their mother knowingly pops a candy into her daughter’s mouth.

Rin watches as Gou sucks on the treat, still seeming unhappy from her traumatizing ordeal. Regardless, by the time they’re getting ready for bed, Gou’s coughing lessens significantly. When their mother measures her temperature, she’s displeased to see Gou’s fever is still high, and instructs her to get a lot of rest.

Therefore, after Rin brushes his teeth, he climbs into bed. But instead of his own mattress, he’s situated himself next to Gou in her pastel comforter and she’s surprised by the sudden intrusion from her brother. Rin wants to explain to her he knows she likes to sleep next to him, so it’s only natural as her big brother, he’d help her get the best rest.

But rather than questioning it, Gou simply puts on her animal-printed face mask and happily snuggles close to his side. Rin huffs before closing his eyes and dozing off.

His slumber is so peaceful when he wakes up the next morning, he almost doesn’t mind when his sister declares, “I want to watch Sailor Moon!” Almost.

. . .

Samezuka is a good enough distance away from Iwatobi that try as she might, Gou honestly feels out of touch from her brother’s life. On a beautiful Friday afternoon, she decides to surprise her brother with a visit.

She texts him briefly, hoping he isn’t too busy. Are you in your room?

She waits outside the dorm building, staring at her phone’s screen. She beams when the screen lights up. It is only recently Rin has been replying to her texts. She doesn’t even mind they’re barely a few words and very sparingly given; she’ll take what she can get.

Yeah, why?

Come down and let me in!

What? Why are you here?

Gou is just about to type up a reply when another follows. Never mind, be down in a minute.

The dorm building’s door opens, and Gou widens her eyes at the sight. Her brother looks terrible.

Well, as terrible as Rin can when he possesses muscles like his, which are strangely covered up by a large sweater on a warm 70-degree day. “Onii-chan!” Gou exclaims, running towards him, her hair bouncing behind her.

He frowns. “What are you doing here, Gou?”

“I just wanted to visit,” Gou pouts before peering closer at his face. “Good thing I did. How long have you been sick?”

Rin looks at her in surprise. “What do you mean? I’m not sick.”

His little sister stares at him, entirely unconvinced. “If only you had told me, I would’ve asked Mom to make some soup to bring over.”

For a second, Gou thinks her brother is going to try and keep up the charade, insisting he’s only tired from studying and not suffering from the flu. Instead, he sighs and shrugs. “It’s okay, I can take care of myself.” Gou realizes he must really be sick if he let the topic go so easily.

“Of course I know that, but you don’t have to,” she retorts haughtily before dragging him towards the proctor to have her signed in.

Once they make it to his dorm room, Gou spies Sousuke reclining on the top bunk. “Sousuke-kun!”

At the sound of his name, the dark-haired teen peers down. Smiling, he greets her. “Hey Gou. So that’s who Rin was texting.” He hops down onto the floor. “Did you stop by because he was sick?”

Gou shakes her head. “I had no idea.” She turns to glare at her brother, who pointedly looks away.

“I’m the older one here, Gou,” he argues, wincing as a cough breaks his sentence. “It’s not even that bad.”

Gou turns to face Sousuke again. “And you!” She points an accusatory finger at her brother’s best friend. “You didn’t tell me!”

Sousuke is caught off guard. “Wha—?”

“Gou,” Rin places his hands on her shoulders to calm down his sister. “Hey, I told him not to tell you, okay?”

She falters, eyebrows creasing. “But why didn’t you want me to know?”

“He didn’t want you to worry,” Sousuke supplies, helpfully. “He always says you have a lot on your own plate.”

Upon hearing this, Gou spins around. Rin expects to hear something along the lines of “thanks Onii-chan, you’re the best,” but instead, she smacks his arm. Hard.

“Hey! Gou, what—”

“Stupid Onii-chan,” Gou scolds, while frowning and the expression reminds Rin of himself. “You’re my only brother, I’ll always worry!” She whirls back to Sousuke who looks like a young deer facing a well-armed hunter. “Sousuke-kun, how long has Onii-chan been sick?”

“Three days.”

“Sousuke!” Rin squawks at being given away so easily by his friend. He doesn’t get a chance to say much else before small hands are pushing at his back. The red-haired Samezuka captain finds himself being steered towards his own bed and Gou peers around the room once she’s done shoving her brother around.

“Have you been getting any rest at all? Don’t tell me you’ve been running around half-naked when you’re sick, Onii-chan.”

“Things have been really busy, Gou, I’m the captain—”

“What about taking medicine?”

Suddenly feeling like a child again, Rin purses his lips when Gou lands her prying gaze on him.

Again, Sousuke feels it’s an opportune moment for him to intervene. “He hasn’t.”

Rin fixes a death glare on his friend. “Why, you…”

“I’m going to the store right now,” Gou declares, before turning to Rin with a pleading expression. “Try to get some rest, I’ll be back soon.”

Rin is about to argue, I have a paper due, I have a test next week, regionals are coming up… but he makes the mistake of looking at Gou’s face, with her large, glossy eyes and small pout. His words die on his tongue and he sulks before nodding and lying down.

As Gou happily beams and turns away, Rin plans on the ways he’s gonna kick Sousuke’s ass the second his sister is out the door.

“Sousuke-kun, do you mind coming with me?”

The man in question startles at being addressed, his attention being on warily eyeing Rin. “Me?”

“Who else?”

Rin gapes. Why was she asking Sousuke to come with her?

Oh, that’s right. They must’ve gotten quite close in elementary school, after he had left for Australia. But still, if anyone is going to go with his sister to the store, it should be her own brother!

“Wait, Gou, let me come,” Rin protests, shoving off the covers he’d bundled around himself.

Gou swiftly fixes him with a stern glare. “Where do you think you’re going?” She presses a hand to his forehead. “You’re burning up and you’re shaking. Stay in bed.”

For years to come, Rin will fervently deny pouting when his sister instructs his eighteen year old self to take a goddamn nap and refuses to let him tag along with her and Sousuke.

He resigns himself to the mattress to wait, mulling to himself he’d have to threaten Sousuke within an inch of his life to never let the rest of the Samezuka team find out about his predicament.

It takes almost twenty minutes for them to return and by then, Rin has fallen into a fitful sleep, his fringe clinging to his sweating forehead.

Gou gently shakes her brother awake to coerce him into taking some medication. She makes a mental note to take a trip to the grocery store on her way home.

For the next hour or so, Gou finds herself fussing over Rin and he is too tired to care. She finds topics to chatter away about to Sousuke and Rin, who occasionally pitch in. Eventually, Rin drifts off to sleep again and Gou decides it’s getting late. She says goodbye to her childhood friend then presses a kiss to Rin’s forehead, when she thinks Sousuke isn’t looking.

. . .

When Gou returns to the Samezuka dorms the next afternoon, she’s again worried her brother will be too busy to reply to her. Instead, a familiar face appears at the doorway to invite her in but it’s not the face she’d been expecting.

“Sousuke-kun? Where’s Onii-chan?”

“Rin’s taking a nap,” Sousuke grins down at the girl he’s practically adopted as his sister. “I saw his phone was vibrating. Figured it was you.”

“Onii-chan? Napping?” Gou repeats in disbelief. The eighteen year old glances at the large pot she has in her hands. It looks heavy, so without even asking, he takes it easily from her grasp.

She gives him her thanks and they quietly make their way to his and Rin’s dorm. True to Sousuke’s word, they find Rin tucked into his blankets. At least he looks a little more comfortable than last night.

“He slept in this morning, barely made it to practice. Then, he came home and fell asleep again,” Sousuke informs her.

“He didn’t even go for a jog?” Gou inquires, incredulously. If she knew one thing about her brother, he always stuck to his exercise regimen.

Sousuke shakes his head, his expression grim. “It’s that serious,” he agrees with her shocked expression.

Gou sighs. “I hate to wake him up, but he should take his medicine and needs to eat.” She gently shakes Rin’s shoulder through the blanket and instead of the usual no-nonsense waking up Sousuke had come to expect, Rin burrows further into his sheets.

With some more nudging, Rin finally blearily opens his eyes.

“Wha…? Gou?” He furrows his brows. “What time is it?”

“It’s four P.M., Onii-chan,” she whispers, treating him as if he was a child. Rin doesn’t pay her delicate attitude any mind, and instead groans.

“I didn’t even do my morning jog…”

“That’s not important,” Gou waves his concerns over the loss of muscle tone away and brandishes two pills and a bottle of water. “Take these.”

He obliges and finally pushes himself into a sitting position. His skin is flustered and sweaty from the slumber spent under thick blankets, the cool evening air making him shiver.

Gou frowns and sets to microwaving some of the soup. It’s only then Rin notices the large pot sitting on his desk. He blinks as the smell wafts to him, reminding him of his childhood. He probably hadn’t had that soup in years.

“Did Mom make that?” he asks, his voice raspy from sleep.

He watches as Gou blushes and for a second he’s worried he’s infected her with his flu. Then she shakes her head. “No, I made it.” She turns around with the bowl. “It’s probably not as good, but it’ll be easier to digest than the food from your cafeteria.”

Rin takes the ceramic from her hands and sips at the liquid. He feels the warmth pool in his stomach and the tendrils of heat curling around his body.

“It tastes like Mom’s,” he says nonchalantly before taking more spoonfuls. Gou lights up as he says this, taking it as a rare compliment from her precious brother.

The two red-haired siblings are sitting on Rin’s bottom bunk, while Sousuke is at his desk. Much like last night, Gou rambles to Rin, who tries to pretend he's indifferent when she does this. Sousuke knows better though and listens to the two of them talk. Sometimes, they’d include him, but after all these years, he still remembers how close the two were when they were younger.

Part of him is annoyed at Rin for ignoring Gou all this time. He remembers when she had eventually turned to him and asked if he’d heard anything from her brother. And it was then Sousuke realized Rin was desperately trying to distance himself from something from Japan, if he’d even taken to ignoring his sister.

As Gou is the manager of the Iwatobi swim club, it makes sense a lot of their conversation revolves around its members. Sousuke isn’t blind—he is completely aware Gou is hardly athletic and it’s far too coincidental she just so happened to join the swim club full of the very same people Rin had transferred to Iwatobi for. Then he ponders to himself absently if his friend is aware she’d done all of it just for him.

Gou mentions how she’d been trying to learn how to cook more things recently. When Rin asks what had brought on this new curiosity, she beams and informs him the Iwatobi swim club is aspiring to ingest healthier meals.

“Huh?” Rin blinks. “Then that means you cook for all four of them?”

She nods excitedly. “But Nagisa-kun is the only one who actually likes the protein powder,” she pouts.

Rin grimaces. “Even I don’t love protein powder.”

“Not even the strawberry banana kind?”

The two male teens gag at the very mention of the supplement. “That’s the worst!”

Pitying his old relay team, Rin decides to give his sister tips on incorporating healthy protein into meals fit for any swimmer and how to better use the powder.

“I can’t believe you make lunch for four grown men,” Sousuke comments. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Rin pouting. Gou is oblivious as she is seated right next to his side. He can’t help himself from adding, “You shouldn’t feel jealous, Rin. She made you soup, after all.”

The Samezuka swim captain’s face colors and he barks, “As if, Yamazaki!”

Gou giggles and holds her brother’s arm tighter. “I’ll visit you more often then,” she announces.

“No! You don’t have to do that,” Rin unnecessarily shouts, before having a coughing fit. Gou’s face is horrified.

“Oh no, how could I have forgotten? You’re sick, and I’ve been keeping you up instead of letting you rest,” she fusses, before maneuvering her six foot tall brother into a supine position on the bed.

He attempts to protest but realizes it would have been futile. He’s feeling a little sleepy anyways. Gou makes sure he’s completely covered by his sheets before lifting up the corner and tucking herself in beside him.

Rin blinks, surprised and is about to tell her she should go home, they might get in trouble, but Gou anticipates his arguments and refutes them the best way she knows how. She clasps her hands and stares pleadingly into his eyes. “You’ll sleep better this way, remember?”

For a moment, he’s about to ask what she means, but then he remembers a week of listening to Gou’s coughs and sneezes, nights spent curled together in the same bed, coupled with several mornings of “in the name of the moon, I will punish you!”

His eyes soften before sighing and simply says, “Go get my mask.”

Gou lights up and rummages through his desk before returning and loops the strings of the plain black face mask behind his ears.

She texts their mother informing her she’d be staying the night at her brother’s dorm. Then he tells her to take one of his shirts to sleep in and she eagerly looks through his drawers, making a mess he’d have to clean up tomorrow, before fishing out one of his old black tees. She slips into the bathroom to change and when she returns with her hair down and her clothes draped over her arms, Sousuke has already made his way to his own bunk, turning off the lights.

“Good night, Sousuke-kun,” Gou chirrups, worming her way into Rin’s side and resting her head on his chest, like when they were children. In response, he curls his arm underneath her to wrap around her shoulders.

“Night, Gou,” Sousuke replies, his tone amused. “Night, Rin.”

Rin grunts in response, already feeling the effects of a long day spent battling his illness. “Night.”

“Good night.” Gou leans up to press a kiss to his cheek.

Rin cracks open an eye to peer down at the top of her head. “Night,” he says again, but in a softer tone. When she returns to duck her head under his jaw, he turns his head so his lips press gently against her forehead through the thin fabric covering his face.

Gou’s eyes widen slightly before sighing happily and drifts off to sleep, but not before murmuring, “Love you, Onii-chan.”

She isn’t sure if she’s already dreaming when a moment later, her brother mumbles, “Love you too.”

[imagine-loki]

Light Lost

TITLE: “Light Lost” CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter one. “A new customer." 

AUTHOR: a-pandoras-box-of-stories

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki competing with Thor for your attention.

RATING: I think it should be alright for everyone as of now. NOTES/WARNINGS: I have been trying to write this fic for a few years now. I have never been happy with how it has turned out any time I tried to write it, so I have given up each time. This time, I have been given some (loose or more than that) inspiration from part of a few different imagines that I have seen. As well as some songs I’ve been listening to. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it as I try again.

Feedback would be GREATLY appreciated and encouraged. <3 (Please also note, there will be some sad stuff in this story.)

…

The catchiest songs were the ones that she liked to dance to. Dark hair, sun-kissed tan, dark eyes, perfect body. Everything about her all in harmony with the words blaring from her radio - Rayna Garnet was one of the best dancers in town. Almost everyone knew it.

On days when she wasn’t working, she spent her time at home with her sister Emily, in their shared apartment. Her enthusiasm and sass could light up any room, and could get her more timid friend to join her in whatever crazy thing she was doing at the time - despite that Emily is much shier than Rayna is. Was.

A lot of their time was spent singing at the top of their lungs, dancing like they had not one single care in the world, and goofing around together. It helped make their dull little world seem just a tiny bit brighter.

Emily and Rayna had met in a musty, run-down old orphanage as children. They’d been joined at the hip ever since, and hardly ever did anything that the other didn’t do. Even though they were starkly different from each other: Emily had fiery, unruly, red hair. Pale skin, covered in an ungodly amount of freckles; she lacked the “perfectly girlish ‘girlish figure’ ” that her sister had, and was immensely shier and much more introverted than her. For all their differences, they had a bond unshakable by any outside source. All the way up to the night of their wreck.

They had been goofing around after work, driving around in the rain at night to get their minds off a particularly bad day at work. Both of them singing to whatever came on the radio, driving wherever the road they were on led them. Eventually, they were going to head home. Neither had good sense of direction, though, so Rayna had asked Emily to get a map.

In her attempt to get a map, she dropped it in the floor. She went to get it, but was stopped by Rayna, who was convinced that she could reach down and get it herself - even though she was the one doing the driving.

It would only take a few seconds, after all, so what would be the problem?

The ‘problem’ was that by the time she bent back up and unfolded the map to try and see where they were, there was a deer in the road that neither she nor Emily saw until it was too late. Rayna dropped the map again quickly; in a split second, they were no longer on the road.

The screeching of tires on wet asphalt, the world spinning, and the smell of blood haunted Emily to this day - when she was supposed to be working.

Emily had crawled out of her window and dragged herself across the ground, barely able to do that. She tried calling for Rayna, who didn’t answer with anything but garbled coughing and pained gasps for air.

How she’d gotten out, she didn’t know. How help arrived, or when it had finally shown up, Emily didn’t know that either. What no one seemed to know, however, was not either of those things. It was how Emily had survived. It was as if something was keeping her alive, when she should have been in as bad or worse condition than her sister was. None of the doctors understood it. She was told it was a miracle that she was alive; told the same thing when she recovered somehow, and once more when she was able to go home

Emily didn’t believe it, though. She wanted to be where her sister was.

While Emily had gotten better and had been let to go home, Rayna was in a coma and on life support. No real signs of life were coming from her, and several times Emily had been asked if she wanted to take her sister off of life support - every time, she told them ‘no.’ She was still holding onto the hope that one day, Rayna would wake up.

This is what she was thinking about presently, when she was being given a dirty look by her current customer, who cleared her throat at her.

“Excuse me, but are you going to continue to stare off into the middle of nowhere, or are you going to take my order already?” she asked snidely, crossing her arms.

Snapping back to the present, Emily bit her lip. For a moment, she had briefly thought that it was her sister calling to her that she had heard. The smell of food and sounds of people around her quickly knocked that out of play, though; she was at work, she remembered.

“I’m..I’m sorry,” Emily cleared her throat. “I was..thinking about something..” she looked off to the side, almost being lost in her mind again.

“Hey, freckle face.” the woman snapped her fingers. “I really don’t care what’s going on in your air-filled head, I don’t have time to wait for you to space out for twenty minutes again. I have to go soon. If I don’t get my order taken right now, I’ll have your job. Understand?”

The repeating of her ‘nickname’ from high school hit Emily’s ears sharply. She frowned, and nodded to the girl. It was someone who had been terribly popular in school, even though she behaved like a horror every chance that she got. Emily didn’t get it then, and still didn’t get it now - this woman was popular still, even now, even though she’d only gotten worse. Perhaps it had to do with her being the former mayor’s niece, she guessed.  

“Yes, I understand.” Emily nodded, taking her order and forcing her best attempt at a smile onto her face. The rest of her day didn’t go any better, and only made Emily feel that much more tired as things continued. Her car wasn’t working, so it didn’t help any that she had to keep reminding herself of that so she wouldn’t forget and look for it when she was off from her shift.

Not only was she going to have to walk  home, but to the hospital as well. She had decided that no matter what, she was going to see her sister every time that an opportunity showed up. And she had one today. Tired or not, Emily was going to go see Rayna. She owed her, after all. She survived, and Rayna wasn’t.

…

By the time the quitting time rolled around, Emily was more than done with the human race. Again. Having to keep her job to pay for keeping her sister alive, a home, and food for her two pets was all that kept her from telling her boss where he could shove it when she was told that she had a double-shift to do the next day.

Sore feet headed out the back door - where her boss insisted employees  entered and left - turning down the street that would take her into the bigger part of town.

Her visit was cut short because it was patient bath day - even those in comas had to be cleaned up. It apparently took longer for them to be cleaned up than for ones who were awake and functioning, so Emily was asked to leave in the middle of her tearful ‘I’m sorry you’re the one lying here, and I’m not’ speech that she usually gave her sister.

On her way home, she couldn’t help but continue to cry. Especially when it began to rain. Ever since their wreck, she’d developed a fear of rain and panicked when caught out in it alone. Going home brought her little comfort. She missed her sister, and was only reminded of her there. Her dog and sister’s cat came up to her to try and make her feel better, but it didn’t do much good.

The arrival of dawn was stale, and stiff for Emily. She had no desire to do anything, but knew she had to go in to work. Robotically raising herself from the floor, she fed and watered Carol and Billy, and went to the bathroom to freshen up. She nearly felt like her feet were going to fall off, but it didn’t matter much when she had other mouths to feed aside from her own - which she had forgotten to do, again.  

Stomach growling the entire way to her work, Emily got lost in her own mind again. For a moment, things in the real world were fading away. This time, they were changing to a vision of sorts. Not of her sister, but of a place that Emily held no recollection of.

Gardens full of flowers like she’d never seen, a tall building that glinted gold in the sun..air fresher than she’d ever breathed in before. Nothing made sense. So lost in this most recent edition to her visions was she, that she almost passed her workplace up. The sound of her boss yelling at her from the backdoor brought her back to Earth; confused as she was, she shoved it from her mind again. This had happened to her only a handful of times in her life, so she at least knew it wasn’t something to fear. It was, actually, something to be ignored in her opinion. She had ignored every odd vision she’d had up to this point and been fine, so why pay attention now?

…

Shaking her head to clear her mind of all unusual and unwanted oddities, Emily headed in to start her first shift. Which began with crying babies and the usual rude customers sitting at their favorite tables. Wonderful.

Nearing the end of Emily’s first shift, she was ready to pull her hair out and kill everything she saw. She’d been yelled at, called names, spat up on by crying children. Some part of her was convinced that the customers all hated her, or something. Where were the nice ones? Why was it so rare to have someone be kind  to her, rather than mean?

A slow sigh of exhaustion came from her as she washed her face off in the bathroom. Closing her eyes for a moment, she looked up in the mirror. Missing the bits of gold showing up in her eyes, due to how tired that she was, Emily went back out to start her second shift. Thankfully, there were significantly less people waiting to be served by her. Most of them were older people who had more patience, though there was still that odd rude one sitting here or there. With so few waitresses working now, it surprised Emily greatly, that she ended up being the one to serve the most polite customer yet. Someone who was new not only to the restaurant, but to the town - Emily had never seen him before, which would have caught her interest more if she had some sleep under her belt and wasn’t so sore.  

“Um..hi,” Emily cleared her throat. “Any ideas on what you want yet..?” she tried her best to smile at him, and brushed some stray hairs out of her face with the back of her hand.

Bright green eyes met hers, followed by a smile.

“Yes, I think I’ve decided.” the customer - a tall man, with short dark hair - nodded to her.

“Alright,” Emily nodded, and got her paper ready. Once given his order, she went to go and tell the people in the kitchen what she needed. The rest of the night that she was there, it seemed like there kept being reasons to have her come back over. A new drink, a question. It struck her as odd, but it was a nice change from how the last two days had been for her, so she didn’t mind.

At the end of the day, she got called over one more time.

“Excuse me, but could you direct me to where the library is? I’m new to town, and I’m afraid I don’t know where very many things are yet.” His true purpose for coming to the town couldn’t be given away yet, of course. He was looking for someone specifically, and thought it could be her; but telling her that now would be a bad idea, he decided.

“The library?” Emily repeated, quieting a yawn. “Um..I’m actually..really.. really bad with directions, but I can try?” she felt her face turn a few shades pinker. Clearing her throat again, she looked off to the side and bit her lower lip.

As much as she wanted to go home and pass out, she also didn’t want to go home. Going home just meant more loneliness, so why not help someone out? Even if he was a stranger, Emily had to admit to herself - he was a rather attractive stranger. Taking a breath in, Emily looked up at the clock. Recalling that the library had new hours, she decided to go ahead and do it. At least if she made herself more tired, she should be able to fall asleep right when she got home finally, right?

“Wonderful.” a soft smile was offered in response, though in noticing how tired she was, he paused.

“Actually.. Would it be too much trouble if you could show me tomorrow? It is rather late, and I’m sure you’d rather go home. Your boyfriend must be quite worried about you by now,” he added, looking a bit confused when Emily laughed.

“S-sorry,” Emily tried to compose herself again, and ran a hand through her hair. “It’s just..well.. It’s funny that you think I have a boyfriend. I’ve never had.. even one. Everyone thinks I’m weird. They can’t get past all the freckles I have.” she shrugged, lightly chewing at the soft inner part of her cheek in thought. “But yeah.. I’m not busy tomorrow. Where’re you staying..? I could probably stop by tomorrow and try to show you to the library. If I don’t get myself lost first,” she sighed slowly. So many shots she’d taken at herself already, and she had no idea she was even doing it so often.

“Nowhere,” the semi-honest answer came, as he shook his head. “I wasn’t sure where to go, since I’m new here. I was thinking of asking you, but I didn’t want to trouble you any further.”

‘Nowhere?’ The word repeated over and over in her head, drawing a frown to her lips.

“Miss?”

“Huh?” Emily snapped to, and blinked a couple times. “Sorry. Ah, no.. you’re not bothering me by asking. I just… well, I have no idea what it’s like based on my own experience, but the one hotel closest to here.. I’ve heard some pretty bad things about it from other customers.” she frowned a bit more. In the back of her mind, a quiet voice was whispering into her thoughts: You know where he can stay. He’s too nice to stay in a run-down place. Be spontaneous! Ask him if he wants to stay with you for now. You don’t sleep in your room, anyway.

Unsure whether or not it was a good idea, Emily exhaled slowly.

Well, the worst that could happen is that she ended up dead. She’d been thinking she deserved it anyway, for a very long time. So, was it really so bad a possibility? The obvious answer was ‘yes,’ but for now she was not going to dwell on these things. Clearing her throat, her eyes met his.

“Um.. you could always just stay with me until you find somewhere better..if you want to, I mean. The only other ones living with me are my cat and dog, so I do have room.”

…

Not having expected a ‘yes,’  the conversation on the way back to her apartment was halted more than once, but pleasant overall. Emily pointed out what she knew about the town, and attempted to make a joke or two. She knew that they weren’t that good, but found it nice that he laughed at them anyway. Not many people would do that.

Upon arriving at the apartment building where she lived, Emily opened the door for him, and waited for him to walk inside. Following after him, Emily fished her keys out. A frown crossed her lips, as she realized suddenly: she had not asked him what his name was. Had she? She looked up, and brushed her hair out of her face with the back of her hand. Biting her lip for a few seconds, she looked over at him.

“I..um. I’m sorry, I really am..I just realized, I don’t think I asked you your name. Did I?” Emily frowned, stopping for a moment.

Noticing how bad she felt for not asking, Loki shook his head. It had not even crossed his mind, with everything else that he was trying to sort out going on up there. There were few memories that he’d been able to piece together over time. At first, none of them made sense. After enough of them came together, and he had seen his mother with a painted picture of herself and another woman who was holding a small child - things came together for him. Things were still coming back to him as he fought against whatever it was that was blocking his memories, but he was sure that he’d come to the right place. The sheer presence of the woman he was standing next to, radiated of some sort of power. Albeit it was a completely foreign one, he knew there was something there. Besides. Emily was the spitting image of the child that he’d seen in the picture that his mother had - only older, of course.

Finally, he gave her a soft smile.

“It’s alright, I’ve noticed that you seem to have a lot on your mind anyway.” he waved his hand, and cleared his throat; ignoring the sudden thought that he had of ‘I’m used to being overlooked anyway,’ he nodded to her.

“I’m Loki.”

[hopeishappinessff]

Chapter 15

I stood stock still now, right in front of Chris as he clutched onto my waist and rested his head against my stomach. Miraculously after the showdown over what happened at the movies, he’d calmed down tremendously and now here he was, relying on me to console him. He strategically positioned me to stand between his legs as he sat at the edge of the bed once I’d moved close enough to him. As usual, I was more than willing to set our differences aside and ignore all the harsh words he’d thrown at me just to be right there in his corner when I knew he needed me most.

“Charlie, I’m so sorry.” I whispered, caressing his back as he leaned against me. With a sigh, he turned his head to the side to speak and pressed himself even closer to me “I can’t do this anymore Hope.” “What do you mean?” I was concerned by the tone of his voice and I peered down at him as he spoke softly. “This… all of this… everything. There’s only so much I can take, you know. I’m only human and I can only deal with so much. I feel like ever since I was a kid, God has constantly been punishing me for some reason and I have no clue why."

“Hey,” I started, reaching down to pull his hat from his head and running my hands gently over his freshly cut hair, “God would never put more on your plate than you can bear. You’re a strong man Charlie… and I admire that so much about you. You’re absolutely right, you are only human and you can only deal with so much. But don’t you dare give up that will to fight… that’s not the Charlie I know.”

With his head now angled up and his chin pressed comfortably into my stomach, he stared at me long and hard then closed his eyes briefly as he reached up and gripped my wrists. “Will you promise me something Hope.” He mumbled. I kept quiet as I stared at him, waiting patiently for him tell me whatever it was he wanted me to promise “Please promise you’ll never leave me.” There was some awkward lump in my throat that I slowly swallowed down as my eyes tingled and I knew the waterworks were well on their way. I could only nod in response as I continued to lightly brush my fingers over his hair.

Shifting my gaze toward the large bay window on the opposite side of the room, I gasped at the sudden sensation of cool air wafting over my stomach. Glancing down, I quietly watched as Chris lifted the hem of my shirt. He leaned forward in my grasp and placed the gentlest kiss against my bare flesh. The feeling of his lips pressed there against my stomach roused the dormant butterflies within and it didn’t take long for me to feel them dancing about wildly. He pecked my midsection over and over again, gradually moving closer to the top of my pants.

Gripping his shoulders tight, I weakly pushed against them as I bit down into my bottom lip “Chris, wait…” My words fell on deaf ears as he continued to strategically place his sweet kisses all over my lower abdomen. I watched in awe as he dropped his hands to the top of my pants and pushed them down only a few inches. He quickly eased back into place and hovered his parted lips just over the newly exposed skin. I could feel the warmth of his breath there and I trembled from the tickling sensation.

Without warning, he pulled me forward and effortlessly adjusted me in a straddling position on his lap. He swiftly dipped his face into the crook of my neck and wrapped his arms around my waist, hugging me firmly against his chest. I wouldn’t admit it to him, but I secretly enjoyed the feeling of his breath rushing out against my neck… it gave me a calming sense of security. He held me there in that position for quite some time, then stood suddenly, leaving me gasping yet again in shock. Unexpectedly he turned and lowered me down onto my back in the center of the bed. My legs were spread and he took full advantage of the position by snuggling himself between my thighs.

Through his actions alone, he spoke volumes. He never uttered a single word, but I understood that the only thing he needed was to be held. It almost felt like he was using me as a frame to support the collapsing structure that was he. I knew that his actions weren’t intended to be sexual, so I allowed him to lie there gently caressing the side of my leg until his breathing became shallow and his motions slowed. Moments later I glanced down at him, making sure to keep my trembling hands tight at my sides, as he allowed the beat of my heart to lull him into a peaceful slumber against my chest.

--

My eyes fluttered open and immediately dimmed into a squint as they adjusted to the light beaming through the closed blinds. I sat up and meshed myself back against my pillows, gazing around the room in my typical morning confusion. Reaching down to push the comforter away from my body, I stared down at the tank top and boyshorts that covered me and frowned. Quickly raising my gaze in search of Chris, who I distinctly recalled falling asleep right on top of me the night before, I realized he was nowhere to be found. So I instantly took that as my cue to climb out of bed and bolt into the restroom.

After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I threw my hair up into a messy bun and walked back out into my room. I retrieved a pair of PINK Victoria’s Secret pajama pants then turned to exit my room. As I stepped out into the hall, I could hear the distinct sound of voices coming from the lower level of the house. Straining to listen closely, I could make out masculine tone of Chris, but I couldn’t quite figure out who the additional voices belonged to. Creeping carefully and quietly down the stairs, I made sure to keep myself hidden behind the wall leading into the den and it didn’t take me long to recognize the voice of my aunt… and Ms. Joyce.

“Where have you been for the past two weeks Christopher?” I heard Ms. Joyce ask. Her question was followed by silence and I wondered if Chris had bothered to respond at all as she continued to interrogate him. “Don’t shrug your shoulders at me boy. I asked you a question… now you answer me!” She bellowed. “I was dealin with some shit ma, damn.” He replied. Again, the room grew silent but that was short lived because eventually I flinched at the sound of a loud slap followed by the scolding tone of Ms. Joyce.

Leaning against the wall just outside the den, I peeped in discreetly to find Chris sitting on the love seat, my aunt sitting on the longer couch across from him, and Ms. Joyce slowly making her way back to that same couch all while she glared menacingly at her son. “How long have you been here Chris?” My aunt asked in a significantly calmer tone.

With a quick glance in her direction, he lowered his gaze back to his twiddling thumbs and sighed “Since yesterday.” He said. “Since yesterday… son, why didn’t you just come home? You were just a few feet away from the house… you could have at least called and told me you were here.” Ms. Joyce asked him sympathetically.

“I didn’t think about that.” He mumbled. “Where’s Sy’Diyah?” My aunt asked. My heart dropped at the sound of my name dropping into their hated conversation and if I would have blinked, I would have missed the discreet way Chris cut his eyes in my direction as if he knew I’d been hiding out there all along. Hesitantly, I took a step into the den and my aunt and Ms. Joyce both raised their gazes to me as I stood there like a deer in headlights.

“Sit down Sy.” My aunt said softly. Following her instruction without question, I moved quickly toward the couch and timidly took a seat beside Chris. It almost felt like we were sitting right in the middle of a police interrogation as they both stared relentlessly at the two of us. “Sy’Diyah,” Ms. Joyce started, pausing briefly to clear her throat, “How long has Chris been here with you sweetheart?”

“Ma, I just told you…” Chris started as he glared at her, but she abruptly whipped her head around to face him. “You know what you need to do right now young man… you need to shut your lil grown ass mouth because I’m about two seconds away from coming over there and poppin you in it,” She snapped then turned back to me, somehow managing to soften her expression in one second flat, “How long Sy?” She repeated.

“Uh… since yesterday.” I replied. She nodded but remained quiet after my response. “Well where have you been all this week Chris?” My aunt asked. “At a friend’s house.” He said. “What friend Christopher?” Ms. Joyce asked. “… a close friend.” He murmured, staring daggers into her. “I will ask you one more damn time child… where have you been all week?” She repeated, challenging his glare through squinted orbs.

With a clenched jaw, he sighed deeply and rolled his eyes then turned to stare out of the front window. “Gabby’s...” “Excuse me.” Ms. Joyce nearly whispered. “I’ve been at Gabby’s house.” He said, a bit louder... and with a bit more attitude. The room suddenly became eerily silent and I kept my eyes glued to my lap, fearing his mother’s reaction.

“Let me see your phone Chris.” Ms. Joyce muttered after several awkward seconds of silence. “Ma what…” “Let me see your phone Christopher… do not make me come over there and get it my damn self.” She stated calmly. Releasing what sounded like an annoyed sigh, he reluctantly pulled his phone from his side and stood to hand it off to his mom.

He plopped down on the couch after she'd snatched it from his grasp and watched as she maneuvered her way through the device. Locating whatever it was she’d been searching for, she tapped the call button and pressed the phone against her ear.

“Uh yes this is Joyce Hawkins, I’m the mother of Christopher Brown. Is this Gabriela? Hi sweetheart… do you think I could chat with your mother for just a second? Thank you hun,” She said with an annoyed roll of her eyes while she waited several seconds, “Hello, I’m the mother of your daughter’s boyfriend. Yes, my name is Joyce Hawkins. Mmhm, listen… I just received news from Christopher that he’s been staying at your house for the past two weeks and I just wanted to confirm that with you. Alright, well I'd also like to inform you that I really appreciate you looking out for my son, but he won’t be needing to stay there any longer... he’s back at home now.”

A moment of silence washed over the phone conversation and her eyes suddenly bulged as her lips trembled and fell open. “Excuse me… ma’am I don’t… WHAT? Not my son,” Pausing, she raised her gaze to Chris and glared at him without bothering to blink, “I see. Well I really appreciate your time Mrs. Jimenez and thank you so much for sharing that information.”

Ending the call, she straightened her posture in the manner only an angry mother would, then slowly leaned back against the cushions of the coach and stared across the way at him. “Is there something you would like to share with me Christopher?” She asked in an unnervingly calm tone. They seemed to engage in an ongoing staring contest before Chris slowly shook his head no.

“Don’t lie to me son…” “I’m not lying mama…” “Yes you are boy! This woman just told me that there was a specific reason you been hiding out at her got damn house! Why do you think she told me that huh, why?” She hollered, with a face morphing into a familiar shade of crimson as she dropped his phone and jumped from her seat to bolt across the room at him.

He stared up at her, seemingly unfazed by her sudden blow up and shrugged his shoulders. She slapped him directly across his head and thrust a trembling finger into his face “Because her daughter is pregnant!” Yet another awkward wave washed over the room as I stared down at the floor and Ms. Joyce continued to stand in front of Chris huffing like a mad woman. My aunt stared at her through stunned eyes as she slapped one hand over her mouth and the other against her chest.

“What the hell is wrong with you Christopher? Have you lost your damn mind?” She screamed. Her frustrations with him were on full display as she slapped her petite hands repeatedly across his face and chest. He attempted to raise his arms in defense, but she ignored them completely and continued to rain her slaps down on any exposed portion of his body she could reach. My aunt swiftly rose from her seat and practically ran over to an enraged Ms. Joyce, firmly gripping an arm and pulling her back from her distressed son.

“Joyce stop it!” She yelled as she pulled her further back and Chris remained in his stance against the couch cushions with his arms still raised defensively over his face. “Joyce, listen to me. You need to calm down okay. Now you know acting like that is not gonna be good for your blood pressure.” My aunt fussed once she’d gotten Ms. Joyce under control and back on the couch across from us. “Oh my blood pressure already flew through the roof Maddie. Ever since this lil wanna be grown ass man decided to just run away from home to get some lil whore knocked up!” She exclaimed, pointing an incriminating finger at Chris, “Lord, what did I do… where did I go wrong with this boy?”

Chris stared desperately at her, the most sorrowful expression covering his otherwise handsome features “Ma… I’m sorry…” “Don’t you dare say that to me child. You aren’t sorry. Christopher if you were sorry, you would have never ran off from home the way you did. If you were sorry, you wouldn’t have been having unprotected sex with that girl in the first place. If you were sorry, I wouldn’t be so disappointed as your mother right now,” She fumed. There was no doubting the blush tone in his cheeks, but I was sure I was only seeing things because surely his eyes weren’t glossing over too, “Now I’ll tell you what… I’ll give you half an hour to go next door, get your shit, and get the hell out of my house.”

He clamped his mouth shut and stared at her, long and hard, then nearly a full minute later he stood from his seat and briskly made his way to the front door. My aunt and I remained quiet as Ms. Joyce wept with her face buried in her hands. My aunt eased closer to her, reaching over to run a consoling hand against her back. “I don’t understand Maddie, why my baby boy,” She sobbed quietly into the palms of her hands, “Why him? I feel like I failed him as a mother... his life wasn’t supposed to turn out this way.”

Leaning forward, my aunt gently captured one of Ms. Joyce’s wrists, forcing her to face her “Don’t you say that Joyce, you did not fail him in any way. You are a wonderful mother, you know that. You raised two very beautiful and intelligent children and if it weren’t for you, they most certainly would not have become the brilliant young adults they are today. No, Chris’s situation may not be ideal in your eyes, but he’s eighteen years old Joyce… he’s a man and it’s time that you let him go and allow him to start making his own decisions, whether you agree with them or not.”

With a defeated sigh, Ms. Joyce wiped the tears from her face as she shook her head “That’s the most difficult part for me Maddie… I don’t want to let him go. He’s my only son and he’s mama’s baby. I just want him to make the right choices...” She turned to my aunt with a fresh batch of tears brewing in the corners of her eyes, “Madison, my son is about to be a father… my baby is gonna have a baby!”

“Oh Joyce… it’s okay. It’ll be alright.” My aunt wore a sympathetic expression as she pulled Ms. Joyce into a side hug and soothingly caressed the side of her arm. Deciding to finally make myself useful, I stood from the couch and exited the den, rushing down the hall to the powder room to grab a box of Kleenex for her.

Once I’d reentered the den, I made my way over to Ms. Joyce with the box tilted and she slipped a few sheets from it. She peered up at me and within the blink of an eye, she was standing and wrapping me up in a tight bear hug. “Thank you honey. Why couldn’t it at least have been you… why her Lord?” She wailed onto my shoulder. My eyes bulged and I looked down at my aunt who had a hand pressed over her mouth to suppress her laughter.

A short while, I could hear the distinct sound of a car door shutting outside and moments later the screen door opened and shut softly. Chris eventually emerged around the corner in the doorway of the den leading out to the foyer. “Um… I’m about to uh… I’m about to go now.” He mumbled. My aunt glanced at Ms. Joyce as kept her head down, whimpering quietly into a handful of Kleenex. With a sigh, she stood and I quickly followed suit and trailed behind them as they headed for the porch.

“Listen Chris, I know that right now you probably feel like you have no one on your side and you’re alone in this, but believe me when I tell you… you are not alone,” She explained, pressing a hand lovingly against his back, “The choices that you make are just that… yours. You’re a very bright and intelligent young man and you’re at a point in your life where whatever decisions that you make for yourself, they will create the path of your life. I’m here to support you, Sy is here to support you, and I know you have several friends to support you as well. This is not the end of the world… your mother will come around eventually, trust me.”

With a nod, he released a deep sigh and stared down at the surface of the porch. “I really appreciate that Ms. Maddie.” With a thoughtful look on her face, she tilted her head curiously and stared up at him “Can I ask you something Chris? Are you completely positive this girl is going to have your child?” He raised his gaze to her and stared with brows furrowed and the corner of his bottom lip tucked into his mouth. Several seconds of silence passed before he sighed and dropped his gaze “Ms. Maddie... all I know is that I’m gonna do my job as a father, no matter what.”

For the first time since he’d told me about Gabby’s pregnancy, he showed a sign of uncertainty. At that moment, I couldn’t understand the motive behind his persistent desire to be active in a child’s life that he wasn’t even sure was his own. With a smile, my aunt extended her arms to him and pulled him into a hug “You’ll be fine sweetie… you’ll be absolutely fine. And you call me if you ever need anything okay. And remember that I love you as if you were my own.”

“Thank you Ms. Maddie. I love you too.” He said with a smirk. Once she released him, he turned to face me with his lips twisted into a half smirk. He stepped forward to me, pausing to study my face for a moment before reaching to embrace me in a hug. I shut my eyes tight and rested the side of my head against his chest as his incredible scent wafted into my nose. He leaned down and allowed his lips to linger just above my ear “Thank you for everything Hope.”

My heart fluttered at the sound of those delicate words and I fought back the urge to cry as I nodded my head against his chest. He pressed his lips gently against my temple then unraveled me from his warm embrace and turned to exit the porch and head to his truck. “Remember what I said Chris… if you need anything, anything at all, you let me know.” My aunt reminded him. He nodded sharply as he propped the driver’s side door open and stepped onto the supporting ladder beneath “Thanks Ms. Maddie, I will.”

[argutesque]

What’s your name?

She feels so out of place. Nervous. Fidgety. Even with earphones in and being ten songs deep into her emergency playlist, she still can’t help but look down and walk with extreme cautiousness. 

She doesn’t know where she’s going. She’s too nerve-wrecked to eat. Too self-conscious to go shopping.

Where am I going?

She stops on a bus station and looks around. The streets are practically empty despite it being a weekend.

Strange. Surely she hasn’t been away that long.

She sees a couple walking down towards her, hand in hand, can’t take their eyes off each other. They slow down, the man looking at her, a question mark painted on his eyes. 

No. No. She panicks, Please don’t talk to me, let alone ask me a question.

It’s just a person. it’s okay. interaction is good, right?

“Excuse me,”

Wait. I have not rehearsed my response. wait. wait. 

She stares at him, almost too sure she looks completely bewildered because the couple looked at each other, silently deciding if they’ve approached the wrong person.

“Sorry to bother you, but you look like you’re from around here. Do you know where the county fair is?”

County fair? She has no idea what they’re talking about. She catches a colourful piece of paper pasted on a lamppost just behind the couple. 

 St. Augustine Central. She knows where that is. And she knows the way, too.

She takes a deep breath and smiles.

“I was just heading there, actually. You can walk with me, if you want.”

***

It was still a little early in the morning, and she thank the heavens she doesn’t have to grapple with an overwhelming crowd. 

“Hey, thank you so much! We could’ve gotten lost if it weren’t for you,” The couple beam at her. 

“You’re welcome. Was no trouble at all.” She smiles, and she feels a warmth in her chest. “Have fun!”

The couple walked away, waved at her, hand in hand once more. 

She looks around, realizing she must’ve been no older than 12 the last time she went to anything like this. 

She sees cupcakes and popcorn, clothes, hand-crafted gifts, seconhand books, games and cotton candy. 

She walks straight down, finally feeling more certain of her own steps. 

She heads right to the books, thinking perhaps she could find some words to console her. 

But as she walks closer to the scent of old parchment, she hears a squeak.

Then a soft bark. Then another. and another. 

On the green grass, almost overshadowed by the stack of books, 

Puppies. Golden retriever puppies, fighting for space and cuddles. She crouches down, and hugs the one most eager to meet her but facing the most difficulty in climbing the fence. The puppy is so soft, and as it nuzzles her neck and licks her cheek, suddenly she’s aware that she won’t be going home alone today.

***

When she wakes up the next morning, it’s not because of the blinding sun.

It’s Flynn, her golden retriever that jumps on her bed and sniffs her face and tugs at her hand until she agrees to hug him.

“Good morning,” she says. 

“Let’s go out for a walk.”

Flynn tilts his head, ears upright.

“Okay, we’ll go out for snacks, too.”

***

In the end, she brought home more than snacks. She had flowers, vases, home decor that she feels would prove unnecessary, and a DIY building kit for a dog door.

She feeds Flynn and plays with him outside, and then she ties up her waves and goes into uninterrupted work mode. 

She successfully (and surprisingly)  built the dog door, a literal hole in her door that would otherwise scares her into oblivion. 

Her home, decorated and … now looks like something out of an IKEA catalogue.

“We did good, huh, Flynn?”

The puppy barks at her, and jumps onto her new beanbag. He instantly drowns and dissolves in the beanbag, and she laughs sans calculation. 

She smiles at herself.

“We did good, huh?”

***

She looks at her brown paperbag, her daisies and baby’s breath still sticks out, untouched. She looks around her home.

She stands up, fills the biggest glass vase she could find with water, and carefully places her flowers inside. She picks it up with caution.

There’s a small corner just behind her door, and for a moment she saw herself,

Crouching behind her door,

 arms hugging her knees, shaking and crying and scared.

She almost drops her vase. 

But Flynn nuzzles her ankles, and she’s brought back to earth.

She smiles.

She steps closer to the corner, and carefully brings down her vase. 

“No more tears.”

She says, her fingers grazing the delicate flowers.

***

Sometimes, she would watch Flynn play around outside while she sits down quietly, a book in one hand and another free to throw the ball Flynn fetches. 

That day, he was not interested in his toy at all.

He had found the neighbour’s cat. She had missed that cat. 

“Oh no,” she mumbles, alarmed. 

But Flynn sniffs and searches, but he never attacks.The cat screeches and hisses, but Flynn stood there hoping to befriend her. 

“Parks!” Someone yelled, and before she could see anything, a man ran over to the cat and picks her up. He looks at Flynn, petting his small furry head. 

“Sorry, big guy. This girl here has no manners,”

She laughs, and he immediately looked at her. 

“I reckon he’s yours?”

She panicks. Oh no. What should I do? This could be awkward. I stole his cat once! I can’t do this. Should I pretend I’m deaf?

She stares at him, not knowing how to react.

He chuckles. 

“It’s alright, you know me. You’ve seen me around. At least…I know you’ve seen my cat around.”

He knows. He knows! Should I pretend I’m ill and faint? What do I do? Her eyes widens, and she quickly realizes she must look like a deer in the headlights.

“Okay, settle down now, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He walks slowly towards her, cat in his arms. 

Flynn runs towards them, and he barks up his feet. 

“Flynn, don’t!” She says, her voice cracking in anxiety.

“Hey, it’s fine, don’t worry about it,” He says as he crouches down to meet her golden puppy, bringing his cat closer to Flynn. 

“Parks, this is Flynn. Be nice.”

The cat reaches Flynn’s nose, no longer defensive. 

He puts down the cat as she and Flynn continues to search each other. 

He looks at her, his body language saying that he is significantly more cautious. 

“I’m sorry,” She says. “I, uh…I didn’t mean to kidnap Parks.”

He smiles, looks down, and lets out a small laugh. “It’s quite alright. Thank you, actually. You took good care of her.”

Wait, what? She must look confused, because he continues,

“Parks needed a change of environment.”

She nods awkwardly. 

“They seem to like each other,” She says, nodding to Flynn and Parks.

“I hope so. We don’t want anyone ending up injured or hurt,”

Fear overtakes her expression as she stares down at him before he finally says “I’m joking. They’ll be good to each other, I promise.”

The uncomfortable silence that follows is mainly filled with him looking at her, as if he’s searching for something.

When she finally gathers the courage to look up at him, he says, almost in a whisper,

“Excuse me. I must have less manners than Parks.

What’s your name?”

***

When she wakes up the next morning, Flynn was outside, barking happily.

She sweeps her blinds aside and there he is, with Parks. 

No hostility. No natural hatred.

Something shifts within her. 

She stand up, walks up her door, and opens it to feel the cool breeze and the warm sun. 

This time, she does not bother to close it again.