#but the abortions are NOT what tha hell

[mossytrashcan]

I will never forget the time I asked for fic recs, got one, went to the authors ao3, and saw post abortion fingering fic. I learned that day

[mekachu04]

Kidd - 19 | Killer - 23

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Kidd pre-time skip looks fucking weird right

that's not just me?

It's because he's still using Killer's make-up

I think he should have a shit ton of freckles

especially on his forehead, which is why he always has it covered

Kidd is self-conscious as hell about his freckles that i made up for him

Gàidhlig tossing in again

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

"What the fuck, Kidd?" Killer snarls, the mask only amplifying the angry tone as he stand in the doorway, Kidd looking back at him through the bathroom mirror, before turning to his partner sheepishly.

Unfortunately for Kidd, Killer is pissed, grabbing the concealer from him in one hand and the small bag of make up in the other, and Kidd raises his own in surrender. He's not completely sure of his misstep but he can count the times Killer's gotten truly upset with him on one hand and even without seeing his face, Kidd knows this is about to make the list if he doesn't fix it quickly.

"I ran out of lipstick so I was just gonna borrow some from you -"

"That doesn't fucking look like lipstick, Kidd!"

"Air son Muir..."

"This shit is expensive, Kidd! You can't just waste is on a whim playing... I don't know! What ever the hell this is!"

"Expensive? Killer - we're as rich as gods right now - I'll buy you more!"

Killer growls little, and Kidd aborts his half-hearted attempt to reassure Killer with a hand to the shoulder. He redirects, scratching the back of his neck like that had been the plan the whole time.

"Killer - I'll buy you more. I'm sorry. Okay." Kidd smart enough to know they're fighting about something else right now - but damn him if he knows what.  "Tha mi duilich. I shouldn't have touched your make up without asking."

Killer is still hunkered a little defensively over his bag, tucked behind arms crossed low over his gut.

"It's... I.." Kidd frowns, usually he just says what he means, but right now he's not sure how to iterate it. "You've never cared about me using your stuff before. Half the time, I'm not actually sure which clothes are mine and which are yours to begin with."

"Mine are the ones that still have sleeves and buttons." Killer muttered. He's annoyed, but the strange mood that had him has loosened its hold.

Kidd makes a gesture of 'well there you go' before resting his hands on the bathroom counter behind him. He gives Killer his best puppy eyes, face molded into the perfect, 'I'm baby' look and he bats his eyes innocently. Killer's mask should prevent him from making sure the look sticks, but he's had enough practice that he knows immediately when Killer locks eyes with him, and he deepens the pouts just a little more.

"You look stupid." Killer says finally, and Kidd smirks - "I was under the impression that was my default?"

The tension eases out of Killer with a sharp bark of laughter, the rare kind where he tosses his head back and cackles. The effect is lost a little with his helmet, but it's a laugh reserved just for Kidd and he takes the win for what it is.

"You can't..." Killer pauses, chuckling, "You can't wear it like foundation - it's just a concealer. You put it across your whole face like that and you just look flat and weird. It's just for spot treatment. Like a zit or under eye bags and shit."

Kidd tried to school his face, but he knew it didn't catch the sulk in time, because Killer cocked his head the way his did when zeroing in on a weakness on the battlefield.

"Also - my skin tone is the completely wrong colour for you." He said, setting the bag down and Kidd could just feel his gaze flickering over Kidd's face.

Demanding an answer.

"My freckles make me look like a fucking kid. People still don't take me serious."

"But I thought you were Kidd?"

Kidd glared, but Killer was long immune to the look. Killer tilted Kidd chin up, 'tutting' over the thick layer of cream. Well - it had done that job at least. Not a hint of freckle was visible across his forehead, nose or cheeks. But it had also covered the natural differences in Kidd's skin tone, flattening to one solid shade. "I dunno shit about contouring, but if we can figure that out, I bet you won't look so stupid."

Kidd just grinned, "I dunno. Kinda digging the look. It's certainly striking."

"It's something." The problem was Killer only vaguely knew that contouring was a thing, not how it worked. But what he did know...

"Hold on a sec." Killer dug through his bag, and Kidd lounged against the countertop, watching him rummage. Killer didn't have the largest supply, and everything was pretty well used. Kidd had made a mental note when he'd been looking through it earlier of what stuff was almost gone. Those were clearly Killer's favorite, and Kidd had stayed clear. But he also knew what to look for in the next port they docked at as well.

Killer brought out a a few items, lipsticks mostly, to set on the counter out of his way but the prize in hand was a little black marker with a delicate brush at the end. Killer fiddled with it for a moment, before gesturing for Kidd to lean closer. "Look Up" was all he said.

Kidd sat still, looking up at the ceiling as Killer carefully painted black lines around his lashes, pulling the brush across the delicate skin around his eyes.

After Killer finished his first eye, he stepped back, turning Kidd's face this way and that, before gesturing to the mirror. Kidd judged his reflection, the sharp lines around his eyes against the flat of his face a bold look, and he grinned.

"Yeah?" Killer asked.

"Yeah, I like it. Do the other one?"

"Sure," and Kidd turned back to Killer. This time, he stared back, catching the flash of blue though the mask; It was hard to miss this close. Killer paused, just a moment, before Kidd caught the twinkle, knowing Killer was smiling back. Then he was looking at the brush strokes, carefully painting on the beginnings of Kidd's own mask.

[dramaticweathergirl]

HAM DAN-I! YUU

(i wrote this in like one go so forgive the shitty quality lmao)

Imagine if yuu is someone in our world who read dozens of cringe reverse harem novels/mangas and played countless school-based otome games.

Meaning, if they suddenly woke up in a school filled with strong pretty boys; they knows what's up.

*realizes that they've been isekaid into a magical school with otherworldly hot students, and they're the only magicless student here. they're the MC*

Yuu: ......wait.....HELL NO I'VE SEEN THIS DAMN PLOT MULTIPLE TIMES

They probably saw how Ace treated them and immediately thought he's the bad boy type who bullied the MC at first but softened and sometimes actually become a tolerance guy over time.

Yuu: *Cringe badboy male lead flashbacks* we're leaving...Now

Grim: what?! You can't just let this mop head insult us like that!

Yuu: I've seen er- met this type of weirdos a few times in my life and i rather not associate myself with them...or any student in this school in general.

They still ended up charring the queen of hearts statue and destroying the chandelier that day lmao.

They don't want to interact with anyone other than Grim and the Ghosts their first day as janitors in fear of creating a domino effect and getting themselves bounded by whatever plot this world has, making it impossible for them to return home.

Yuu immediately contradicted herself by becoming friends with the Adeuce combo since their life threatening encounter with the blot monster in the mines lol. (Of course there's gonna be some almost death situations caused by the universe to force them to bond with the others)

OMG you know that scene when Dan-i called Ruda a monster in hopes of pushing him away 💀💀

That, but with Mallues

"i..i shouldn't tell you my name. For you may finally see me as a monster like others d-"

"yeah, you do look like a monster"

"...pardon?"

"but just a normal looking monster though, not the strange scary ones you see on the TV and you look actually look kinda cool for a monster"

"..."

Yuu in her mind: I called you a monster right? Fucking glare at me like im the filthiest dirt in this planet and never want to see me face ever again.

"pfft, how amusing"

"yeah tha- WAIT WHAT"

"this is the first time someone directly called me a monster right at my face"

Yuu in her mind: FUCK! ABORT! ABORT!

"ahahaha is that so? Oh gosh would you look at the time gotta go haha..."

[dereksmcgrath]

You Should Be Voting for Biden #2

Ten things Biden and Democrats are doing to improve your life--and you should be voting for them.

Campaign for Democrats at postcardstovoters.org, check voter registration at vote.org, and donate at secure.actblue.com. 

I’m just straight-up stealing this format (but not the content) from Tumblr account BatBoyBlog and their weekly coverage of all the good work Joe Biden and Democrats are accomplishing. Unless I directly cite BatBoyBlog in what follows, I’m not at all taking anything from BatBoyBlog’s list that I didn’t read or see elsewhere first. And I’m covering not only what Biden and Democrats have accomplished this week but also what Biden and Democrats have done in the last three years or more. And that’s not even getting into the far longer list that you can read here of Biden and Democrats’ accomplishments--so, let’s get on with it. 

Biden signed the National Plan to End Parkinson's Act to advance work towards curing Parkinson's.

Biden added a half million dollars in funding to technology research in rural states.

And the economy added more than 200,000 in June 2024, exceeding expectations by economists. That is 15.7 million jobs created since Biden became President.

Gas prices decreased significantly ahead of July 4th--that’s adding money to your wallet.

The Biden White House has provided at least $12 million in federal funding for infrastructure--that means fixed sidewalks, improved bus stations, and safer crosswalks. 

Biden is now the first President to propose a federal standard to protect 36 million workers from fatally hot temperatures, along with increasing funding for emergency response to natural hazards.

The FDA under Biden has banned brominated vegetable oil (BVO) as an ingredient in foods including sodas. BVO has been shown to harm the thyroid, metabolism, and the brain.

Absentee ballot drop boxes are returning to Wisconsin, thanks to that state's supreme court gaining a liberal majority--thank you, Wisconsin liberal judges.

There are ballot measures in state elections to protect abortion rights, with a new ballot measure that just got the signatures it needs to be on the ballot in Arkansas--so let's see people get the vote out in Arkansas to protect abortion rights, and get out the vote for Democrats in the federal Congress to send a bill to Biden to protect abortion rights.

And Biden notified emergency rooms that they are obligated to protect patients’ health at all times, and that includes abortions when needed to protect pregnant people’s health and their lives. 

I want to elaborate on that tenth item: Biden and Democrats want your bodily autonomy, your health, your life, and your privacy protected--while Republicans want their adjudicated rapist of an illegitimate presidential candidate to ban abortion in all cases throughout the United States, even in cases of rape, incest, and when your health, your life, and your ability to reproduce are threatened. Those Republican Nazi fucks can fuck off: vote for Democrats. 

What Biden and Democrats are doing is the work of governance: protecting your health, improving your life, improving the economy, expanding our rights--or restoring those rights an illegitimate Supreme Court took away from us. And the work of governance by Biden and Democrats requires taking care of as many people as possible, as quickly but carefully as possible. 

And what Democrats offer is a hell of a lot better than a Republican Party that wants you to die at work or die by dictatorship. Those are your choices in this election--that is why you have to vote for Democrats. Republicans block the good Biden and Democrats accomplish: the Biden White House gets rid of non-compete contracts so you can have better career advancement, Republican judges block it; Biden expands protections for LGBTQ+ people, Republican judges block them. And every time Republicans try to stop progress, Democrats work towards progress. That is what you’re voting for--progress--and that is why you need to vote for Democrats. 

And that’s not even getting into why you need to vote for Biden and Democrats to stop the Republicans’ fascistic Project 2025 bullshit that would ban no-fault divorce, ban same-sex marriage, drive trans people into the closet, force the elderly to work longer, risk kicking people off of Social Security and Medicare and Medicaid, remove overtime work protections, take away funding and disability services for military members (to clarify: military members themselves would lose benefits--the current members and veterans, disabled or not), increase the price of food and goods, increase pollution, increase damage to infrastructure, increase mass shootings in schools, ban free and discounted school lunches, ban Muslims, and ban abortion pills to further endanger people’s lives and invade their privacy. Fuck all of that shit--you need to vote for Biden and Democrats. 

As has been said elsewhere, your choices are President Biden or a fucking dictator: choose Biden. Don’t listen to the 24-hour cable channels, don’t fall for fearmongers on social media--get out the vote for Biden and Democrats. And while you’re reading my writing on WordPress and Tumblr, use an adblocker: these web site hosting companies continuously run ads for the fascism, bigotry, and stupidity of Republicans--fuck that noise, block those Nazi ads. 

And speaking as a teacher and writer, I’m asking you, don’t listen to scholars who could not bother to get out the vote for Democrats--and instead listen to teachers who are getting out the vote for Democrats. Listen to the American Federation of Teachers, probably the only academic organization I have seen opposing the kind of bigotry, ignorance, whitewashing, and fascism that the Republican Party campaigns on. 

Please visit postcardstovoters.org to get out postcards to voters to encourage them to vote. Talk to your friends and family to have them check their voter registration at vote.org and to remind them to vote for Democrats in all elections. And if you are able, please contribute money to Democrats in your local races at secure.actblue.com. 

[theivorybilledwoodpecker]

No, sweetie. Of course I have a problem with the fact a child was raped.

But you know what I also have a problem with? The fact that the child should have been able to get an abortion in her home state, but couldn't because sick, pedophilic freaks didn't make an exception for rape or children.

I have a problem with the fact that forced birthers first called the child a liar, then punished the doctor who helped her. The child was protected by the medical system. Dr. Caitlin Bernard reported it to the proper authorities, which led to the rapist's arrest.

"ShE wAs SuEd FoR vIoLaTiNg PrIvAcY!"

No.

Donna Shalala, who helped write federal HIPAA patient privacy law during her eight years as the U.S. Secretary of Health and Human Services under former President Bill Clinton, told IndyStar Bernard did not violate the law. She thought Bernard “was very careful in what she did reveal.” “There was just no way that she identified this patient with the information that she released,” Shalala said. She said that actions in states around the country, like the board's finding, can deter doctors. “They’re criminalizing the practice of medicine and they’re literally asking doctors in this country to do harm,” Shalala said. “This is the opposite of what they went to medical school for and what their oath is. It’s the criminalization of American medicine and it’s outrageous.”

This was Todd Rokita furious that a child had been spared from being forced to give birth.

I have a problem with the fact that people like you responded to this with a response that boils down to "Too bad, but she needs to give birth for our enjoyment."

And I have a problem that you seem to think humans getting angry that a child was denied health care means humans aren't angry about what happened to her.

Because here's the thing. We live in a world where people get hurt. The normal, human reaction to hearing that a child was raped is fury at the attacker, but also an urge to help tha child. If someone denies or tries to deny her help, there is an overwhelming anger at the people who are hurting the child further.

What you and other forced birthers do is say, "Why don't you just stop at anger at her attacker and be done with it?"

Prochoicers: We are angry. But she needed health care, and she needed to travel out of state to get it.

Forced birthers: That's not important.

Prochoicers: Yes. Your bans could have killed her. Definitely harmed her.

Forced birthers: Why do you keep focusing on that?

There is no crime more evil than hurting a child. You and people like you have hurt several children.

If there is a god, and if he is good, then on judgment day he will make every single adult forced birther live through what they have forced on others. That can be their hell.

The problem with abortion is that there is no end to its immorality. There is no issue you can support abortion on and not be supporting equally heinous civil rights issues of born human beings.

[coffeecatsandcandles]

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭

➵ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | You knew there was no chance. You and Bucky were careful, always. He used protection and so did you. But there was still a sense of nervousness as you bought the pregnancy test, along with other snacks and things for the night. You’d never taken one before, but you figured there was nothing to worry about. This was something you were doing out of sheer boredom, not because you needed to do it.

So an hour later, when the positive test was staring back at you, your mind went blank.

➵ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | bucky barnes x reader

➵ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 3k

➵ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | pregnancy and pregnancy tests, allusion to abortion, moodiness, arguing, language, mostly angst but a little fluff to even things out!

დ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | დ 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | დ 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢

No.

It had to be a joke. Your eyes had to be deceiving you. There was no way. No fucking way.

No matter how hard you blinked, how hard you tried to snap yourself out of it- every time you looked down, it was still there.

How the hell did this even happen? How did you get here?

It was just another normal day, Bucky had been gone since yesterday afternoon, though you knew he was coming home later that day. You were entertaining yourself by texting a friend all day. She’d had a bad day, and you knew she’d need some cheering up.

You were on a video call with her as you walked through the store, looking to buy some snacks for you and Bucky that evening. You’d promised him one of your famous movie nights- he’d pick a movie from the 1930’s or 40’s, and you’d pick a movie from this century. It was your way of connecting- understanding each other and having fun together. He’d usually pick serious films that meant a lot to him at the time, so in return, you almost always picked one of the corniest, stupidest, or sappiest movies with the worst acting to take the edge off. He always looked forward to your movie nights.

Walking through the pharmacy section, you pulled a joke you always did, whether you were shopping with friends or with Bucky- you’d pass the pregnancy tests and pretend to grab one, saying you needed it, even though one hundred percent of the time, you didn’t. It was your joke, the thing you did that usually made your friends laugh. It threw Bucky for a loop at first, immediately going in his defensive, protective mode. He was coming up with a plan in the middle of the aisle, arms protectively at your side before you laughed lightly, trying to calm him down and telling him it was a joke.

Being a good friend and knowing she was having a bad day, you looked at the test in your hands, and decided to buy it. “Fuck it, why not?” you said, your friend on screen laughing.

You knew there was no chance. You and Bucky were careful, always. He used protection and so did you. But there was still a sense of nervousness as you bought the pregnancy test, along with other snacks and things for the night. You’d never taken one before, but you figured there was nothing to worry about. This was something you were doing out of sheer boredom, not because you needed to do it.

So an hour later, when the positive test was staring back at you, your mind went blank.

You didn’t know who to call, what to do, or what to think. You and Bucky had never had the “do you want kids“ conversation, despite how long you’d been with him.

The disbelief and denial took over you almost instantly. You were always so careful, there was no way you were actually pregnant. Protection was used every single time, though you knew it wasn’t one hundred percent effective- nothing was- you figured with both of you being protected, you wouldn’t have to be dealing with something like this.

Absentmindedly, you began calling Bucky. A sense of embarrassment took over as you heard him answer, realizing you actually had to say it out loud. You’d have to explain yourself and how you got into this situation. The only thing that kept you from bursting into tears was that you couldn't see his face.

“Hey, I was just thinking about you,” he said as soon as he picked up.

This was going to be so much harder than you thought.

“Are you busy? Can you talk? I’m sorry to bother you if you’re busy, but I really, really need to talk to you. And it can’t wait until tonight because I’m kind of freaking out right now.” You couldn’t stop talking. The words just kept coming and coming until Bucky had to cut you off, something he only did when he knew you were panicking.

“Hey, hey- doll, I can make time for you, always. You know that. Nothing in this world is more important to me than you. What’s going on?”

“Um-” the words were scrambling in your head, you were trying and failing to catch your breath. Bucky stayed on the line, waiting for you to talk.

“Are you hurt? Do you need me to come home now?”

“No,” you said almost immediately, finally finding your voice again, “no, don’t come home early. I’m okay. I just- I did something kind of stupid and now it’s biting me in the ass,”

“What, honey? Tell me.” he said calmly. His voice was smooth. It wrapped you in a big, warm blanket and kissed your forehead.

“Well, I decided to buy a pregnancy test- for no reason other than because I was bored out of my mind- and I’m looking at it right now, and it’s positive. I have no idea what to do, Bucky.” You said.

There was silence on his end. You wished you could see his face- it wasn’t clear if he was stunned, upset, or he’d fainted.

A minute had passed, and still nothing. You decided to speak again. “Bucky? You still alive over there?”

“Yeah, yeah I am. I just- I-” he stuttered for a second, trying to get his thoughts in order too, “I don’t know what to do, either. I guess we have to cancel movie night then, huh?”

You laughed out of sheer frustration, much to Bucky’s confusion, “God, Bucky. Cancel movie night? That’s all you can come up with?”

“Doll, I-”

“No, don’t ‘Doll’ me, Bucky! We’ve never talked about this before. I’m pregnant, this is a huge, life-changing thing happening to us and the only possible thing you can think of is cancelling movie night?”

Then the laughing turned into tears. Crying out of frustration wasn’t new, but right now, you couldn’t explain the convoluted mess of emotions you were experiencing.

Bucky took a deep breath. His mind was swirling with thoughts and emotions too, but he couldn’t show it now. He had to be strong for both of you. “We’ll figure something out, baby. I promise. I can schedule an appointment if it’s too much for you. We’ll figure this out together, alright?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, though you knew he couldn’t hear that.

“Come on, Doll. I gotta hear your voice. It makes my day so much better, even when you’re yellin’.”

You chuckled softly sniffling a little, “Yeah. We’ll figure it out together.”

“There she is,” he said, his voice still making you feel warm and safe, “I love you, Doll. This doesn’t change that. Not in the slightest.”

You smiled, though the tears kept falling, “I love you too, Bucky.”

-

Wrapped up in a blanket on the couch, you snuggled closer to Bucky’s side. Even Doctor X couldn’t distract you from how nervous you were. You and Bucky found an appointment three days from now. In the hours that passed since you’d taken the test, you stopped denying it or looking for any possible mistake made. This was something you and Bucky just had to deal with now, though you still weren’t entirely sure just how you were going to deal with it after the appointment.

Bucky looked as though he were focused on the movie, though the only thing running through his mind was you. How were you feeling? Were you feeling sick? Were you just as scared as him? Surely, he ruined your life. Whether you wanted to keep the baby or not, this was something that would permanently alter the way you looked at him- the way you looked at each other.

He couldn’t help but blame himself. He was the one who’d gotten you pregnant, and you were the one who had to suffer through whatever it was you decided to do. He was certain you were done with him, though the way you were snuggling up to him on the couch with your arms wrapped around his torso surely said different.

When he got home, there was no special reunion like the both of you imagined. He looked at the test for himself, and sure enough, there were two bright pink lines on the test, indicating you were carrying his child. You made the appointment with him, making sure it’d be on a day where he could be there. You ate dinner in silence, then sat with him for your movie night, which you both decided not to cancel.

Though the evening was spent in silence, your body language couldn’t be any more different. He started it, putting his hands on your waist at any given moment- whether you were reaching for something on a high shelf or laying beside him on the couch, his hands were on you. You gave in eventually, cuddling up to him the second the first movie started. You inhaled the smell of him and cuddled up to his warmth, focusing on the feeling of his chest rising and falling as he breathed. It was so relaxing, you could’ve fallen asleep.

You looked up at him. Spotting you in his peripheral vision, Bucky turned to you, pressing his forehead against yours. There was a silent apology between the two of you, but you felt the heavy urge to say something to him.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” you said, your voice small.

“Oh, doll-” he said softly, pressing kiss after kiss on every area of your face, “It’s okay. I forgive you.”

“This is just- I’m terrified, Buck.” you admitted.

“I know, but you know whatever decision you make after this appointment, it’ll be the right one, okay? Won’t make me think of you any less. And I know this changes things… forever, but no matter what, I will always be so incredibly in love with you. Nothing will ever change that.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Truly, you had no idea how you’d gotten so lucky with him. You didn’t know what you wanted either, but as long as Bucky was by your side, you were okay.

-

You scanned the waiting room, spotting mothers with their young children, a few parents-to-be, and couples waiting for their names to be called. You held Bucky’s hand, a question plaguing your mind ever since you woke up that morning.

“What’re you thinking about, doll?” Bucky whispered to you, “what’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours?” He always had a way of reading you that made you feel like your emotions were always on display, no matter how much you tried to hide them. You could lie and say ‘I’m fine’ all day, but he would always know there was more you weren’t letting on; there was no point in lying to him.

“How do you honestly feel about starting a family? Don’t let me or anything else affect your answer. Just tell me, is that something you want? Or do you not want that?”

Your questions came out of nowhere, Bucky’s eyes widening at your bluntness. He didn’t want you to feel like his answer should affect your decision. Like his answer was the final word. Being put on the spot like this almost felt like a setup, though he knew better than to say that out loud. He knew you were probably just emotional and still didn’t know what to do- you were looking for any influence on your decision. You must’ve been under a lot of pressure, and Bucky didn’t know what he could do to alleviate it, that also wouldn’t subsequently make the decision for you.

As if someone was looking out for him, a doctor called your name before he got the chance to say anything. Both you and Bucky stood.

“Wait,” you turned to Bucky, nervously stopping him, “could you… stay out here?”

Bucky was a little hurt you’d asked that. He couldn’t help but feel like your mix of emotions were pushing him away, though he completely understood that you were going through a lot. He’d let it go on until you were okay again, but the practice of it all was a lot more painful than he anticipated. He’d still say yes in a heartbeat- he’d walk barefoot on broken glass, move mountains, and set the world on fire if you asked him to.

“Of course,” he said, “but why?”

“You said so yourself… This is a decision I have to make. All I have to do is look at you and you break my heart into a million pieces. I can’t have you there to cloud my judgement. No offense.”

“None taken,” he said, showing a soft smile, “I’ll be right out here if you need me.”

He sat back down, watching you disappear down the hallway with the doctor by your side.

He had to trust that you were in good hands. That you were safe without him in this scary situation. You could handle your own, he knew that. The more protective side of him just wanted to be there too, so he could see with his own eyes that you were okay.

Bucky knew the appointment would take a while. That you’d likely be in there for over an hour. He could have gone downstairs to get himself a coffee, gone down the hall to grab a snack from the vending machine, called Sam to figure out what the hell he was going to do. But he stayed put, rear glued to the chair and listening to people talk amongst themselves. He watched an expectant mother read to her toddler, two other children play with their action figures on the floor to make time pass, and a father-to-be place his hand on his partner’s pregnant stomach.

Was this something he wanted?

He’d never thought about being a father, honestly, and maybe now that was coming to bite him. He never knew what to feel about kids. If he wanted one, or more than one, or none at all. He never imagined much of a future for himself after being pardoned. In all honesty, since his pardon, he was a more in-the-moment type of person. After meeting you, maybe the thought of a future together came across his mind every once in a while, but it was nothing past marriage.

He still wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted to come out of this situation. But the more he thought about it- as much as he hated to think it- he wanted this, eventually. He wanted to start a family with you one day. Of course, he’d leave that thought buried deep down. It didn’t matter what he thought, he’d support you with whatever you wanted to do.

But he wasn’t even close to being prepared if you wanted to keep it- he didn’t know the first thing about taking care of a pregnant person or a baby- but he’d learn. He’d do whatever he could to make your journey into motherhood as seamless as possible. And if you didn’t want to keep it, he’d hold your hand through the entire process, be your shoulder to cry on if you needed it. He’d throw no fits, he’d lay with you if you needed warmth, and he’d suck it up and deal with it if you decided you couldn’t look at him anymore and ended things between you altogether. At the very least, he was prepared to take care of you.

Though he did want a family one day, especially with you, three words still hovered over him.

Not right now.

Bucky didn’t even realize how much time had passed until he saw you make your way back to him, a changed expression on your face.

“You okay?” he started, “I think I figured out what I want- but I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything based on what I want. It’s your life, it’s your body, you’re the one making the decisions here-”

You gently grabbed his face in your hands, urging him to look at you. You could tell he was panicking now. “James,” you said calmly, he stopped rambling at the sound of you saying his name. He swore he melted every time he heard you call him James. Those were very rare, special times. “It was a false alarm.”

Shocked, Bucky nervously grabbed your hands, still holding his face, “Really? Did something happen? Did the baby-”

“Turns out, there was never a baby. I was never pregnant- it must’ve been a faulty test or something, or the rare, one-percent chance the test was wrong.” you chuckled.

Bucky, overwhelmed with relief, wrapped his arms around you and sighed. “Thank god,” he muttered, “I was gonna help you no matter what- but god, I was not ready at all. I don’t know how you handled it so well."

Kissing him gently, you rested your forehead against his chest, “I don’t doubt that you would make an excellent dad to our babies.”

Bucky smiled, running his hand through your hair, “Is that something you want? A baby, or babies… Do you want us to be a family? Because I’ll figure it out if that’s something you want- we can start trying.”

Kissing his cheek, you looked up at him again, a soft smile spreading across your face. “One day. Not right now.” Bucky felt the breath he was holding release at the sound of you saying the three words that’d been repeating over and over in his head for the last hour. “Let’s just enjoy this time together, just you and me. No pregnancy, no babies. Just us.”

And if Bucky wasn’t sure that you were the one for him before, he was definitely sure now. Holding you close, the two of you made your way back to the car, the relief settling in for both of you that right now, you were okay. By some miracle, you had a pass.

You and Bucky could breathe again. Overwhelmed, you leaned over to Bucky, who hadn’t started the car yet, and kissed him.

“Are we okay, doll?”

You smiled, running a hand through his hair and kissing him again, this time on the tip of his nose, causing him to smile back at you. “Yeah, Buck. We’re okay.”

[saintobio]

it’s the way every time mc says “i love you” to toji, he doesn’t say it back 😮‍💨 the first time it was, “don’t say things you don’t mean” and now he didn’t even get a chance to reply because satoru showed up. what goes through mc’s head whenever she says those words to toji?

i also want to be mad at gojo but i can’t because although he’s not in a place to feel some type of way because what he’s going through now is exactly what he put mc through (minus the mental and emotional abuse). i can’t bring myself to be upset at him because i know at one point he was doing his absolute best to be better for his wife, and plus he’s under the impression (thanks to momjo) that they’re still married. yet, momjo wants to be upset at mc for having boundaries now that they’re “back together” while disregarding the fact that she’s balancing basically TWO marriages and the fact that she has a life of her own now. momjo has to understand that even though you can’t change the past, there’s a bigger picture that she’s also willingly neglecting and refusing to understand.

it disappoints me that momjo doesn’t even try to understand where mc was coming from, ya know being that she’s known mc and her family since satoru and mc were CHILDREN. she knew mc’s mom, right? even mc’s father is a level-headed and patient man. doesn’t that give momjo an idea of what kind of person mc was raised to be? she really doesn’t seem to want to understand that she’s in no place to tell mc what choices to make in her life OR manipulate her and guilt-trip her into a situation that will only benefit her own son, then blame mc for not dropping her life for him. it seems as if she wants the world to revolve only around her son which is sickening in its own way. it’s selfish and ugly. as a mother herself you would think that she’d be more level-headed. does she have to forgive mc? absolutely not. i don’t think i would be able to either if my son tried to end his own life. but the way momjo speaks and treats mc as if she was in their marriage too is exactly what pisses me off. i can understand the hostility and anger because her son willingly tried to take his own life due to his failed marriage, but for her to say “i just know you did your best to be the best husband you could be” is way out of line being that she wasn’t even AROUND for when satoru and mc got married in the first place. she doesn’t even know why her son got married in the first place? it was for selfish reasons, solely for his own benefit + his mistress’s.

momjo has BEEN in mc’s shoes — a failed, abusive relationship/marriage, and she ran away but left her child behind with an emotionally unavailable, selfish and immature parent. where the hell did she think that would lead? yet she’s pointing fingers at mc for protecting herself and her grandchild. mc actually had every right to cut all ties and connections to satoru, including going through with an abortion, which she didn’t (correct me if i’m wrong but another part of me feels like mc also waited too long to have an abortion, especially with so much uncertainty in her marriage, unless it was legitimately too late for it to be an option). mc even made it clear that she wasn’t going to be thrilled if she ended up pregnant with his child, but even though she did and even though she ran away with sachi, she said it herself that she didn’t intend on keeping it a secret from satoru forever.

it’s the same hostility that’s being thrown around since before sn1 (satoru’s childhood) that’s creating a cycle and dragging others into their contagious family misery as well. satoru is fucked up from his childhood, took it out on mc, mc gets emotionally fucked up, so she left, momjo gets mad that mc left because she fails to recognize that the things that her and dadjo did to their son literally created a ripple-effect and it’s frustrating.

the one line i think about every time someone shows any hostility for mc on satoru’s part, the only thing i can think of is that one line he said to yuuta back in sn4 — “i’ll play with her heart and make sure she’s gonna cry on her knees before i leave her. she’s just a toy.”

i’m so sorry, i meant for this ask to be about sy5, but i went on a tangent ab momjo instead. i saw her name once in the chapter and immediately my mood got ruined 💀 anyways, i want to thank you saint for such an amazing series, i’ve been following along since sn7/8(??) and i’ve been addicted to it. like truly, you’re one of my fav writers and i love how you bring out the worst in me but in a good way LMAO. thank you for this amazing series & still updating it for us for FREE. like for real, i’ve seen some of the asks you’ve received from anons that sound condescending and ungrateful, yet you still choose to continue this for the rest of us! love how you stand your ground :) keep doing great!

you popped off ahahaha i don’t think i need to add my two cents on this bc you already did well in expressing your thoughts abt their unhealthy dynamics <3 and the ripple effect was very on point!

i also wanna thank u on that little note at the end. it’s readers like you who inspire me to continue this series even tho some people can be really condescending and demanding with the way they talk to me lmao

[can-youimagine]

Work In Progress Chapter Ten

Summary: After leaving the BAU, you promised you would never go back. But then, you meet your replacement. Your genius, caring, loving replacement, and you can't stop yourself from being pulled back into that world.

Chapter TW: Angst, mention of being unconscious, questionable morality, mention of abortion, loss of child, swearing, near death experience. See Series Masterlist for full series TW.

Word Count: 945

A/N: Itallics are flashbacks

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

You watch him walk into the building before leaving. As much as you want to think about Spencer, you can’t help but think about the last time you left this building.

Tears blur your vision. You aren’t entirely sure how you manage to see the road well enough to get home, but you do, and you’re relatively certain you didn’t hit anyone or anything on the way.

It’s sometime between morning and night. You had dropped off your gun and badge before anyone you knew would be there. Namely, before Aaron would be there.

You aren’t sure you can ever look at him again. In your experience, death either pulls people together or drives them apart. In your case, it was the latter. In Aaron’s, it was the former.

When you get back to your apartment, you see him sitting in front of your door. “(Y/N), please-”

“My badge and gun are at the Bureau. You get to have your life with Haley without anything holding you back.”

“You know damn well that isn’t true.” When his hand slams against the door, you become acutely aware of your neighbors.

“If we’re going to do this, we’re going inside.” You don’t look at him as you unlock the door, but you know he’s watching you. You leave the door open behind you. To his credit, Aaron manages to contain most of his anger and shut the door at a normal volume. You finally turn to face him. After spending the last week (plus a few days when you were unconscious) in a hospital bed in Ohio trying to put on a brave face, you are at your breaking point. “What do you want from me?”

“I want you to be okay. I want you to scream and throw shit and cry and then get better,” he confesses. “I want you to be you again.”

For the first time, even to yourself, you admit, “I’m not sure I can be.”

“Can you try?”

“Aaron, he took so much from me. He took my baby. He took my future.” You fall onto the couch. “How can I let him not take me too?”

He sits next to you before gently correcting, “He took our baby.”

“I don’t even know why I’m so upset. It’s not like I could be pregnant with the job, and you and Haley just got back together. It’s not like I could have expected you to take care of them. Honestly, I probably would have had an abortion anyway, but…”

“It would have been our choice.”

“Aaron, you have to understand, I can’t go back there.”

He rubs your back, trying to slow the sobs. “I know.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You push yourself away from him. “I’m fine now.”

“(Y/N),”

“Aaron. I’m fine. You should get back home. It’s late.”

“Goddamnit, (Y/N)! You aren’t the only one who’s hurting!” He cries for the first time. “It was my baby, too. I have always wanted to be a father, and-”

“And you still can be!” You wish you had bit your tongue. “That wasn’t taken from you. You get to go home to your wife and build a family. I will never get that.”

“I almost lost you, (Y/N). Do you know how scared I was? And I couldn’t fucking tell anybody. I had to be the boss. I had to be the one to prepare paperwork for your death. I had to be the stonefaced one while everyone else was sobbing.” He drops his head into his hands. “I had to mourn you by myself. I had to hold JJ while she cried. I had to remind Morgan to leave your side every few hours to eat something. Hell, I had to pull Gideon back to earth at least once a day before he went AWOL to find that son of a bitch.

“I called Dave. He knew about us. Of course he did.” He sighs. “I hung up as soon as he answered. I was so fucking scared of telling him what happened. I was scared that if I told anyone that you were so close to death, that you would,” he chokes, unable to think about it even now.

“I didn’t know.” You’re quiet now, rather embarrassed by your outburst now.

He shakes his head. “I didn’t want you to. You were, and are, in a lot more pain than me. And, you’re right. It wasn’t my future that was taken. I’m sorry that yours was, and I’m sorry I didn’t do en-”

You cut him off, “You saved my life, Aaron.”

“I could have-”

“Done nothing different. You did the best you could with the information you had. The fact that you found me at all is a miracle.” You stare at your lap. “That’s why I can’t go back. When people talk about near-death experiences, they only ever have one. I’ve had mine. I can’t risk another, Aaron.”

He grabs your hand, and you look him in the eyes for the first time that night. You see nothing but sincerity. “We’ll always have a spot open for you.”

You nod. “Thank you.” You’re too tired to push the issue. “Go home. Tell your wife you love her. Then, go back to work and save the world.”

He chuckles. “What’re you going to do?”

You shrug. “Well, my other degree is in elementary ed. I’ll probably get recertified and start teaching.”

He smiles. “You’ll be a great teacher.”

“Thank you.”

He squeezes your hand one last time before walking out of your apartment.

The same apartment you are walking into now. You sigh. Home sweet home.

[mar-iiposa]

"You're What?"

prompt: How would the Bayverse boys react to their s/o finding out that she is pregnant, and she is afraid/scared to tell them? The pregnancy was not planned. Hope you're having a great day/night <3

a/n: this was requested by an anonymous user as a bit of a long story, meant for all four turtles, but I'm deciding on separating it so it looks better on my masterlist later on. hope that enjoy, and make sure to read the tags I have included down below, just in case !

warnings: slight mention of abortion but that's it, mention of needles drawing blood (not too graphic of course), unplanned pregnancy, mentions of unprotected sex.

word count: 2.6k

"Y/N, are you okay?"

Your roommate, April's, voice rang out when she saw you hurry towards the bathroom in such a rush, for the third time today, and it was just barely 2 pm. She was concerned that you weren't doing so good, never having seen you in a peculiar state like this before. As late of this past week, you've started to show signs of illness and restlessness, constantly moody, which we knew was odd for you at times. "Do you need anything?" She gently knocked on the bathroom door, hearing the faucet run on the other side before it was turned off. "I'm good, thanks," You murmur, loud enough for her to at least comprehend what you're saying. Outside of the restroom, April looked down for a moment, hesitant on whether to truly believe you or not. However, she didn't bother to really question it. "I'll be out, text if you need me."

After getting up a little too fast, you feel a small, sharp pain in your breasts, causing you to wince and cup them lightly out of instinct. Over the last few days, you've been noticing some changes. Weird ones too. For starters, you missed your period, it was supposed to roll around about, what, three/four days ago. You kept it tracked monthly on your phone, and by now, it would seem to probably come later than usually expected. Never did you have an irregular menstrual cycle, sometimes periods tend to come a little bit late but this was still odd enough. Not to forget, you had been vomiting like crazy at times, especially in the mornings and early afternoons of the day, sometimes at night if you're "lucky" enough. Topping those off, you felt fatigued, you were bloated, strangely moody, and you really needed to pee way more. A lot more, actually.

You had turned off the faucet in the bathroom, hunching over the sink, still with little droplets of water sliding down and into the drain. You look into the mirror, bags under your eyes have started to form from lack of sleep after literally vomiting your guts out in the middle of the night, having to hold your own hair back yourself if April would be completely knocked out from work. It wasn't a rare occurrence for her to be passed out on her bed or the couch, after a long day of working. You were employed, too, it was just that you took a day off to find out what the hell these symptoms were. Who knows, maybe you were falling sick?

You do your hair and style it just a little, unbothered by if you looked like crap or not, you could care less. You were throwing up and felt almost sick, why wouldn't you look unappealing at the very least? Grabbing your keys and things, you make your way towards the subway almost downtown, avoiding eye contact with almost anyone and everyone, not feeling at your best. It felt like your self-esteem had taken a downwards decline in the last couple of days prior. Not that you never got irritated or anything, but it was peculiar to you that all of a sudden, you had mood swings that changed from one mood to another like a bolt of lightning. Hell, even your boyfriend, Leo, noticed fairly quickly, but he decided not to press on you too much about it.

Getting off of the subway train, you head to your physician's office, opening the door of the building, the cooled atmosphere of the room hitting you within seconds of your entrance of the room.

"Hello, Ms. L/N, are you here for your appointment today?" The female receptionist gazed up at you from her glasses, frames pink, wearing a light shawl over her arms and shoulders. "I am," You give her a nod, her gaze traveling back to the computer screen as she typed away, the sound of her dark red acrylics hitting the smooth black keys. "Sure does get cold in here," She chuckled, a small short in the middle of her laugh, "take a seat, miss."

Doing so, you sit near the TV of the waiting room, the magazines on the table ahead stared back at you, the words 'VOGUE' written on the modernistic cover. The television was of bland taste, just going over the weather expected for today and the rest of the week and into the weekend. You cradle yourself slightly, your e/c eyes flickering down to your fingers and nails. About fifteen minutes or so later, the door to the back of the office opened, a nurse appearing in her scrub, "Y/N L/N?" Perking up at the mention of your name, you both make eye contact and she steps aside for you to walk in, giving a nod before directing you to a nearby room. Taking a seat, you wait until the doctor comes into view, greeting you with a friendly smile. "Ms. L/N, hi," She shook your hand, holding a clipboard under her left arm as she entered, "how are you? Is there a reason as to why you made an appointment for today?" Seconds after listing off your symptoms, she eyed you a bit suspiciously, writing down with her pen. "I'll send one of the nurses in for a blood test, I'm sure you'll be free to go then," The doctor pursed her lips in a tight smile, looking as though she had something on her mind as to what you could've had.

You sit there, for what feels like hours upon hours of silence, and you don't even notice the nurse coming in through the door at some point. "Alright, just relax for me." A pinching at your skin came from the needle, and the nurse draws some blood from your arm. Closing your eyes and glancing away from the view, the needle is drawn away from your arm after a while, patching the spot up with a band-aid. "You should get your answers shortly," 'Angela Bardot' (the nurse) states with a small, friendly smile as you give her a nod for a reply in return.

The receptionist sends you a wave goodbye as you approach the door on the way out, nodding your head and giving a wave back. Traveling home among the streets of New York, your mind is constantly filling up to the absolute brim of what the results would be. What if you were terrible sick? Had an illness that was incurable or deadly? How would you tell the ones you loved? Always tending to think of negative outcomes was a habit of yours, for as long as you can remember. You're so deep into your thoughts as you don't realize your boyfriend had called you a couple of times already. You unlock your phone after typing in the digits of your password, tapping onto his contact. "Hey," His voice rings from the other side, "I was trying to call you, is everything alright?" You can hear the worried tone through his end.

You run a hand through your hair as you neared the corner, coming closer to your New York apartment. "Yeah," you breathe out into the air of the apartment building, taking the provided elevator, "yeah, I'm okay." You could almost see the look of relief in those blue sapphire eyes of his, he responds, "Sorry, I almost panicked when you didn't pick up." You chuckle a little at that, knowing you almost always picked up on phone calls, holding onto your keys as you pushed your front entrance door open, "Nah, you know I can handle myself, Leo." You grin hearing his voice, chuckling at that. "I know, I know." 

"I'll see you tonight?" He asks on his end, you immediately smile. "I give you my word." You can feel him smiling from 'ear to-ear' at your response, "Okay, I'll see you later then. Love you, princess." Your smile growing warm, heart fluttering at the words coming from your boyfriend, you speak back into the phone, "Love you too."

He was the first to hang up on the cell phone call, before you fall back onto your grey couch with a heavy sigh, soon leaning forward with your head in your hands, elbows firmly sitting on top of your knees. The TV is turned on from the remote in your hand, head leaning back into the couch, but only enough to still keep your eyes on the screen. Your phone rings again, and you assume it might be Leo again, calling to tell you something he might have forgotten or who knows what. Turning the phone over from it's front facing the cushions, and you recognize the contact number. "Hello?" You pick up, a recognizable voice rang through. "Hi, this is Dr. Rullston, I'm calling you to discuss your blood test results, yes?" Sitting straight up quickly, you feel yourself nod almost frantically, "Yes, it's not anything, right?" A long pause resonates between the two of you, and you can slightly hear the intake of a breath from her.

"Ms. L/N, you're pregnant."

Your heart completely drops as soon as you heard that, standing up from your seat within milliseconds. "What? I- I can't belie- !" She continues, "About almost two weeks pregnant is what I'm seeing. Congratulations miss." No, no, I didn't want a baby! I didn't know this would happen! 

You look down at the floor as your breathing is nearly stressed, "Tha- Thank you, Dr. Rullston." Quick to hang up first, you almost drop your phone onto the apartment's hard wooden floor. How was this possible? Well, you knew how pregnancy and sex worked, but this was something completely shocking, at least to you! You think you at least had intercourse with a condom on! You and Leonar- Oh God, Leo! How would he react to this? He would be disappointed, he could leave you! Who would want to raise a child with you? Who would even want a knocked up lady if he did leave the relationship you had been building for practically a year?! You could get an abortion, that's it! No, no, no, you couldn't see yourself going through with that. Seeing others get abortions was something you were supportive of, but you had no absolute idea what in the hell to do! Do you want to keep it? That was something you didn't know the answer to. 

Two hours roll by until you're dressed a little more properly now, on your path to the turtles' lair in the sewers. As of now, you're (somewhat) rocking some jeans, with an old t-shirt, your commonly-worn shoes, and your hair combed through. Sticking your head through the lair, Mikey spots you straightaway, quickly riding on his skateboard towards you, guarding your own stomach, afraid for impact. Luckily for you (and maybe your fetus), there is no impact. "Yo, Y/N!" He gave you his regular fist pump, "how's it hangin'?" He notices you guarding your stomach, emitting a laugh as he points at you, "What's with the stomach guarding?" You realize your arms protecting your stomach, pulling them away fairly quickly. "Just, uh- Just hungry is all!" Michelangelo eyed you for a second or two before shrugging, picking up his board with a swift kick at its tail, "M'kay! Leo's in his room by the way. Catch you later!" He rode off again, presumably to bother either Raph or Donnie with his "dazzling personality."

Nearing Leonardo's room, you were undecided on the option of telling him about the growing baby inside of you or not. You didn't know. You didn't know what he'd think, what he'd say, how he would react, or if his perspective of you would shift entirely. Every fiber of your being grew anxious, scared to share the news with him. Or not. Leaning against the doorway of his room, he looked up from his katana, a smile gracing his features. "Hey," He stood up from his spot on the bed as you approach him, "Hi." Leonardo glanced down at your shorter human self, grabbing your hands to hold into his abnormally larger ones. "Took you a while to get here." Yeah, it did because you couldn't stop vomiting into the toilet until you got the strength to eventually walk all the way down here. "Sorry, busy," You threw an excuse at him, the leader of the clan nods. "Uh-huh," He takes your hand and leads you to his bed, "you're not overwhelming yourself, are you?" Knowing how concerned he can tend to be, you shakily exhale a little, giving a closed-mouth smile. "No, not really."

"You know ho-" You bit your lower lip, feeling the need to interrupt, "Leo, there's-- there's something I need to tell you." He paused for a little, knowing there was something up, a feeling in his gut. "Well what is it?" You can feel that pit of anxiety start to blossom within you once again, your palms nearly growing sweaty as you try to gather your words. Carefully wanting to break it to him was something you wanted to do, and correctly too. "Y/N?" He sends you a fervent glance, "is something wro-?" 

"I'm pregnant."

He's taken aback by the sentence you had just formed, staring at you, with almost little to no emotion being expressed. He's speechless. Out of words, completely. "You're what?! With- With my ba-?" Giving the leader a small, slow nod, it finally makes sense to him. "That's why you missed my call? Y/N, you sh-" You feel tears swell up in your e/c eyes, a hot droplet starting to slide down your left cheek, "I know it's all my fault. I should have asked for an abortion before I left that doctor's office. And you don't want a kid, I can see perfectly see that, and just know that I'm sor-" A warm green hand cups the side of your face, endearing blue eyes look at you and hold your stare as a thumb comes to wipe your new, built-up tears. Tender lips come to kiss your forehead. "I want this. Y/N, please listen to me when I say it'll be alright. I won't let you and the baby down, okay?" Leo's words are kind, softly spoken as he offers you a pursed smile while holding your face in his hand, "You'll be fine."

Your breathing is starting to calm down as you meet his eyes, your hand coming touch his on your cheek. "How far? How far are you, I mean?" Feeling at ease, your eyes are still watery with tears, a smile growing on your lips, "Two weeks." He grows soft at your reply, eyes flickering down towards your stomach. The stomach that held his kid inside of it. "How big are they?" You hold your hand up and leave a little gap between your index finger and your thumb, "Like a little seed." A smile of joy lights up his face before he carefully runs the bottom of your t-shirt up to expose your stomach to him. He pursed his lips together once more, fighting off tears as he gives a breathy laugh. "I love them already." You grin to your significant other, kissing his cheek.

"And we love you too."

[wrathbites]

A sequel to this.

Oh yes, a Witcher's Signs are handy indeed! Unless, of course, they're turned on you.

"Was it really necessary to hit me so hard, Geralt?"

"Hm."

"Hm!  Don't you hm me!  In what lawless, wretched world is poking someone rather ferociously in the eye suitable gratitude for them defending your honour?!  Your hide?!"

"Because reasoning always works with a dragon," Geralt replies, dry as sand in the noonday sun, rifling around for food to pair with the drink oh so graciously left by townsfolk scared witless by the bard's sudden ability to transform into a dragon.  A dragon larger than the Vegelbud residence.  Jaskier, that size.  Wonders never cease.  He pauses with hands on a crate of root vegetables (a hearty stew, if nothing else), frown carving across his face, and promptly sticks his head out from the larder.  "I didn't poke you, Jaskier."

The bard turns a solitary, accusatory eye on him, pointing with his free hand to the linen balled in his fist and held to the other one.  Formerly streaming tears and now firmly swollen shut.  What do you call this, then? that glower says, and he can't quite tell if the twitch in his jaw is an aborted grin or a grimace.

"Yeah, jabbing a finger into an eye the size of a dinner place would've been effective in getting your attention, Jaskier.  Could you even hear me over all that caterwauling?"

Jaskier's mouth pops open in comical fashion, squawking in wordless outrage and casting around, seemingly, for something within grabbing distance with which to hurl at Geralt's head.  And if he happens to snicker in response, well, can he be blamed?

"Caterwauling?  Caterwauling?  I will have you know I do no such thing.  Ever!  Not as a bard, not as a dragon, not as an ungodly mishmash of the two when I've imbibed one too many bottles of wine!  I take offense to your treatment, Geralt, I truly do.  Frist you advise I ignore the townsfolk throwing stones at you, then you climb all over me as if I'm a training ground for fresh cast Witchers back at Kaer Morhen, then you proceed to do something to my eyeball none too pleasant at the time - and it's still throbbing, thank you very much for asking - and then!  To add insult to injury - quite literally! - you think to slander my voice?  My source of income?  My pride and joy?!  Why, the balls on you must be solid steel, my good man.  Steel!" and with that he settles on divesting himself of a boot in favour of chucking it in Geralt's direction, cursing a truly impressive storm when he ducks back into the larder with a laugh he'll deny to his dying breath.

"No part of my body came into contact with yo-"

"Then what the bloody hell did you do?  I might as well be blind in this eye, you oaf!"

"Aard."

"..."

He counts along with every one of his slow heartbeats as he waits for the explosion, sniffing at meat and cheese as he unwraps them, suspicious of poison and mould, both.

"YOU COULD HAVE POPPED MY EYE LIKE A DROWNER'S GUT!  ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!"

And there it is.  The sheer volume Jaskier can reach makes sense now that he thinks about it, an impressive feat for human lungs, to be sure, but for a dragon's - no, that isn't the case, is it?  No mortal ribcage could possibly house organs so large.

"Geralt!  Are you even listening to me in there or have you gone selectively deaf again?"

"I hear you.  I'm choosing to ignore you.  Do you want apology stew or not?"

Silence, again, of the verbal sort.  He can still hear the sharp intake of breath and the measured exhale as Jaskier, presumably, calms himself.  He can still hear the thump of hands on table and the scuff of chair across floor, the uneven tread of one socked foot and one booted edging closer to his location.  He can still hear the pause, the rustle of expensive silk as Jaskier bends to retrieve the other boot where it had flopped from wall to floor in a sorry heap.  He can still hear Jaskier's heartbeat, the steady tha-thump of a human, so quiet even in simple existence compared to the dragon form that'd ripped from him less than an hour ago.

And then Jaskier's in his personal space, a solid band of heat against his back, around his waist where arms setlle, small streams of it following the path his fingers make as they trace idle patterns on his shirt.

"What kind of stew?"  Really, does he need to sound so suspicious?

"The good kind."

"I'm afraid you'll have to elaborate, my dear Witcher.  I'm not trusting you to give me mushrooms again, and if I never see another squirrel, dead or otherwise, in my lifetime, it'll be too soon."

... So maybe he does have grounds to be so suspicious.  "Vegetable stew only, you have my word."

Quiet humming for a moment, then: "dinner and beer Geralt, and then I might just let you close enough to my face to kiss it better."

"Let me kiss you elsewhere and I'll make you feel more than better."

Laughter, then, tucked to the back of his shoulder like a secret for them alone, before Jaskier's tightening his arms in a squeeze too weak to belong to a man with a dragon slumbering under his skin.  "Oh I'm counting on it, Witcher.  Be a good boy and don't leave me waiting too long, hmm?"

... Fuck.

[wonhaebunny]

a,, a crying katsuki fic— just,, maybe a prank by the rest of 1-a to be mean to katsuki all day but ofc they didn’t expect him to cry??? then they would just baby him the rest of the day the end :)

hi!! sorry for the late response, this took a fair bit of time to flesh out!! it ended up being like 2.5k long lmao OOPS. anyways i kinda strayed a tiiny bit from your prompt but i hope this is still okay :’) 

tw// panic attacks and just teenagers being idiots and slightly ignorant in general

-

it started as a joke.

really, it did.

they’d been messing around during lunch, and in the middle of telling a joke, denki had wrapped an arm around katsuki’s neck easily.

it wasn’t anything new, this routine. denki giving his affection, katsuki rejecting it remorselessly.

what wasn’t routine was the miniscule flinch of katsuki’s shoulders under denki’s arm, before he was snarling, shoving the latter a way a little too hard.

“geez man, accept my love!” denki had whined loudly, but the other just cursed at him with hard eyes. 

he was grumpier than usual for the rest of the day, but denki brushed it off as one of his many bad moods.

that was, until a few days later when hanta placed a hand at the base of the back of katsuki’s neck absent-mindedly during class and the blonde had whipped around so fast he sent his table flying, explosions already flickering to life in his palms.

“calm down, dude, I was just passing on the homework packets,” sero said, eyeing the blonde’s tensed shoulders warily. katsuki was silent a few moments, eyes scanning the classroom as if daring them to say anything, before he finally snatched the packet from hanta’s outstretched hand and sat back down at his seat with a scowl and his shoulders hiked to his ears. no one mentioned it, simply watching in apprehension. but denki’s brain was whirring.

he mentioned it to mina in passing during english class.

“dude, bakubro’s totally got a ticklish neck!” he said to her under his breath, and she turned to give him a dubious look.

“i don’t think he’s capable of having a ticklish anything, kami.”

their gazes both flicked over to the blonde in question, who was quietly working through his worksheet diligently like the nerd he was.

then, slowly, mina tore a corner off her paper and scrunched it into a ball, before tossing it at katsuki’s back. the two watched in silence as it sailed through the air and ricocheted off the back of their target’s neck. the second the ball made impact, katsuki’s head was snapping around and his pencil was snapped in his grip, explosions flickering in his hands again and earning a look of exasperation from present mic. katsuki’s almost feral gaze snapped onto the duo, and he gave them a look of pure wrath that they met with sheepish smiles.

word spread quickly after that, and it became a small contest in the class to try and touch katsuki’s neck to watch him squirm.

eijirou looked uneasy at the idea of riling him up like this, and izuku was downright annoyed at the little game, giving everyone who participated in it a disappointed frown. but everyone else continued nonetheless, even students like ochako and rikido getting involved.

tsuyu would brush the back of her hand across his neck when walking past where he was seated on the common room couch, and the class would hide their snickers at the way the blonde would jerk to his feet and away from the touch, palms crackling menacingly.

mina would wrap her arms around his neck in an impromptu piggyback in the corridors and get thrown to the floor for her efforts, grinning all the while at the reaction she garnered.

(none of them noticed the way katsuki’s shoulders would tremble minutely even after the touches faded, or the way his eyes would grow distant and panicked. of course they didn’t - not when he hid it behind explosions and loud cursing.)

it went on for more than a week, katsuki growing increasingly irate and agitated with each instance. he avoided everyone more, except for eijirou and, surprisingly, izuku.

he would eat his meals in his room, wear his jackets with the collar popped up. at trainings, his explosions were erratic and frenzied, and in class he would snap at anyone who approached him, reverting back into his anger the way he had in their first year.

“i think you guys should stop.” izuku had said quietly around a mouthful of pork at dinner one night. the class was seated in the common room sans katsuki and eijirou, who were eating in the latter’s room. “you’re getting him worked up for no reason.”

he’d been brushed off easily, the class laughing his suggestion away.

“loosen up, mido,” kyouka grinned, bumping his shoulder lightly. “bakugou’s just allergic to affection, we’re messing around.”

“you can consider this exposure therapy!” mina piped up, earning another round of chuckles.

izuku scowled into his rice. “you’re not therapists.” he muttered under his breath.

that night when katsuki and eijirou brought their dishes down to wash them in the kitchen, yuuga brushed past them and trailed a finger across the side of katsuki’s throat innocently, making him drop his plate and jerk away with a curse.

“will you fucking- stop!” he roared, face growing red instantly and lips parting in a snarl. “stop it! stop fucking touching me!”

yuuga apologized easily with glinting eyes and glid out of the kitchen, leaving katsuki hunched over the counter with clenched, trembling fists.

after a moment of tense silence, katsuki finally dropped his plate in the sink and stomped away, not even bothering to wash it. eijirou followed him quietly, turning to give the sniggering occupants of the common room a glare as he passed.

“you guys are being so unmanly.” he muttered with a frown.

“what an overreaction.” he faintly heard mineta pipe up from the couches as the door closed behind them.

“dude,” eijirou called, speed-walking to catch up to the blonde. he raised a hand to put it on katsuki’s shoulder but was shoved away roughly.

“fucking leave it, shitty-hair.” katsuki spat, storming into his room and slamming the door shut behind him.

eijirou was left standing in silence, staring at the closed door in frustration as he realized katsuki had gone back to calling him that goddamn nickname after the entire year it took to finally convince him to use his name.

it came to a head two days later.

katsuki had been studying at the common room tables while the class was out training. he’d fallen asleep at some point, head buried in the arms he had crossed over the desk.

the class started filtering in slowly at some point, eyeing his prone form slyly as they entered. eijirou was nowhere in sight, probably still outside, and izuku was at an internship meeting.

the one to finally make the move was denki. he sidled up to katsuki, inching a hand towards his unmoving form as the group watched in anticipation. then, as quickly as possible, he wrapped his hand around the back of katsuki’s neck, palm pressing flat against the skin, and squeezed.

it happened so fast denki was left disoriented. one moment katsuki was asleep and then next he was startling awake with a strangled curse, explosions crackling at his palms as he jerked away and to his feet.

“dude, dude, it’s just me, chill!” denki had cried between snorts of laughter, the entire class watching the scene in amusement.

but katsuki didn’t calm down. in his half-asleep state, he lurched away from denki’s outstretched hands with an aborted cry, sparks in his hands growing to dangerously large explosions.

“imagine that,” kyouka snickered into her palm. “the great and mighty bakugou katsuki, bested by a single touch to his neck.”

she didn’t see katsuki’s flinch at the words, the way his face twisted and his shoulders began to tremble.

spitting out another string of weak curses, katsuki turned away from them and towards the dorm rooms only to be stopped by a bewildered eijirou, who had just entered.

“what’s going on?” he asked hesitantly, eyeing his snickering classmates and then katsuki, who was trembling in his grip with a lowered head.

“fucking let me go, please, just stop,” the blonde whispered hoarsely, quietly enough that only eijirou heard it. the redhead blanched at the words, almost losing his hold on the blonde’s arm.

“what the hell is going on?” he demanded, at the group this time.

the class were still chortling slightly, unable to see katsuki’s expression from where he was turned away and assuming his shaking was in rage.

“you think this is how the villains got him?” mineta leered. “just a hand at his neck? must’ve been easy as hell!”

eijirou felt the flinch that ran through katsuki’s body at the words, and the blonde’s head dipped even lower, hair falling over his face. his breathing was shallow, chest starting to heave slightly.

“hey-“ eijirou began, but shouto was already cutting him off with a frown.

“that’s too far, mineta.” he said quietly, looking irritated. a few of the students nodded in agreement, suddenly looking less amused after the purple boy’s comment.

"i'm just messing around!" mineta shot back.

"well don't mess around about tha-"

a choked sob cut through the argument, and they all froze, heads swiveling to the source.

“bakugou?” eijirou asked quietly. the blonde’s body was trembling visibly at this point, shoulders shaking and hand pressed to his mouth tightly. a droplet of moisture fell from his bowed head and onto the floor, and eijirou blanched.

“shit- dude. bakugou.” he reached for the blonde’s shoulder only for him to flinch away from the touch violently, uncontrolled explosions roaring at his palms. another sob tore itself from the blonde’s throat, echoing through the silent common room.

“what’s going on?” mina asked quietly, looking completely terrified.

“someone get aizawa-sensei.” eijirou whispered. “i don’t- i don’t know-”

tenya ran off in search of their teacher instantly, and eijirou turned to the hunched over blonde, gently ushering him away from the centre of the room and towards a corner.

“bakugou,” he tried slowly, an edge of panic seeping into his own voice at the sight of his best friend’s tear-stained and rapidly reddening face. “katsuki. you need to breathe.”

the blonde shook his head, expression twisting desperately. “c-can’t,” he choked out, hand creeping up to clutch the back of his own neck. “can’t, i can’t!”

tears were falling freely at this point, staining katsuki’s shirt quickly.

“no, they’re- i can’t, please-” katsuki gasped, grip tightening at his neck until the skin went white.

eijirou’s eyes were starting to well with tears at his own helplessness, when aizawa-sensei came skidding into the common room.

“what happened.” he asked briskly, maneuvering eijirou away from katsuki smoothly.

“i- i don’t know, he just started-” eijirou tried numbly. “i don’t know.”

aizawa-sensei pulled katsuki out of the common room and into the corridor, and the class was left standing in tense silence.

“i told you guys to stop!” eijirou cried finally, voice shrill as tears finally rolled down his own cheeks. “i told you!”

his classmates flinched, all of them pale and shaken.

no one spoke.

they waited unmoving until aizawa-sensei was walking back in, a still-trembling but slightly better-looking katsuki trailing behind him with swollen eyes trained on the floor.

“someone better explain to me what the hell happened.” their teacher said finally, murder in his eyes.

mina was the one to do it, shakily explaining with stilted pauses how the game had started.

aizawa-sensei listened quietly, expression growing stonier with every passing word. when the pink-skinned girl finally finished with tears welling in her eyes, he fixed them all with a stare angrier than the one they had received after kamino.

“do you all know what that was?” he asked lowly. “harassment. you harassed your classmate.”

a flinch ran through the group at the word.

“sensei, we didn’t mean to-” denki began quietly, but he was stopped by the teacher’s raised hand.

“i don’t care what you meant. i’m telling you what it was. you harassed your classmate and led him to a panic attack. you’ve all been through enough together to understand the trauma that can follow your experiences as heroes, so why did none of you have the common sense to stop and consider why bakugou didn’t want you touching his neck?”

silence followed his words for a long moment, before realization dawned on the class as one.

“oh my god,” ochako whispered in horror, eyes filling with tears. denki and mina went very still next to her, stilling as their own eyes widened in guilt. the atmosphere in the room grew heavy, and their gazes slowly trailed to the blonde sitting hunched at eijirou’s side, still trembling minutely.

“i think you all owe bakugou an apology.” their teacher said finally. “every single one of you except kirishima and midoriya will be attending after school detention every day for a week.”

for the first time ever, there were no protests. aizawa-sensei pushed to his feet, and with a lingering glare at the group of them, brushed out of the common room.

when the door shut behind him, they sat in tense silence.

“bakugou,” eijirou whispered hoarsely to the unmoving blonde at his side. “can i-”

his arm reached out, making an aborted movement to hug the blonde before he paused mid-way. but a moment later, katsuki leaned forward to bury his face in the redhead’s shoulder and nodded weakly in consent. eijirou’s arm settled around him slowly, resting at his hip and avoiding his neck area clearly.

“b-bakugou?” denki started shakily. “i fucked up really bad. i’m sorry.”

katsuki shrugged weakly against eijirou’s chest.

“’s fuckin’ whatever.” he mumbled roughly.

“no!” mina cried. “it’s not whatever! we were horrible to you even though you kept telling us to stop!”

“i’m sorry, too,” ochako echoed quietly. “it was easy to forget how traumatic kamino would have been. you’re so strong that i forgot you were a person like us, and i never thought about how you would have been affected by it.”

there were murmurs of agreement throughout the group as they all gave their apologies to the awkwardly fidgeting blonde.

“this is fucking stupid.” he muttered finally, flushing slightly. “can we just pretend it didn’t happen?”

they all chuckled lightly.

“it’s nothing to be embarrassed about!” mina insisted. “if i was in your position i probably would’ve cried the entire time the villains had me!”

“honestly, i think they’d just return you at that point, ashido.” hanta mused, earning another round of laughter.

“well maybe that was my escape plan the whole time!” she cried dramatically. “we can’t all be inhumanly strong and powerful like our bakugou over here!”

she kicked at his side lightly amidst the class’ laughter, eyeing him cautiously as if checking if the touch was allowed.

katsuki just nodded at her once, making her beam as her shoulders sagged in relief.

“shut up, dumbass.” he rasped, but there was a smile tugging at his lips.

from his side, eijirou watched the exchange with a faint grin of his own.

(later, izuku would return from his internship and receive a rundown on what happened. the class would cower as they received a stern talking-to from the green-haired boy that put aizawa-sensei’s lecture to shame, while katsuki sat behind him and watched the entire thing smugly.)

[lilacborrower]

say that you remember (feeling the same about me)

postcanon, past kuroken, background kenhina, 1k, bittersweet but hopeful

Sometimes people fall apart and come back together. Sometimes they just fall apart.

A conversation between two friends, fifteen years later.

Link in reblog, fic below

“You cut your hair,” Kuroo says blankly. Kenma—looks good. His hair is neater now, falling sharply angled just below his jaw. Jet black. It’s purposeful. He’s grown into himself, still small, still lean, but not curled in and away from the world anymore. The sunlight drifts around his shoulders, framing him in the rickety chair across from Kuroo.

Kenma takes a sip of his tea. “You brush yours now.”

Kuroo’s hand jerks, an aborted reach to comb through his hair. “I brushed it then,” he protests weakly.

“Don’t bullshit me, Kuro, you know I’m immune,” Kenma says. Kuro. It’s been years since he’s heard that and hearing it again brings it all back, every moment, every touch, every look, every no not yet it’s not the right time I’ll wait I’ll wait for the right time to ask him and then—

Kuroo clears his throat and swirls his coffee in his mug. “All right, all right. My personal care habits were questionable in high school. But what are you up to these days?”

There’s an eye roll from Kenma, and okay, fine, questionable is stretching it. But at least he moves on and answers the question.

“Oh, this and that.”

Kuroo waits.

No clarification is forthcoming.

“Ah, Kenma. You haven’t changed a bit,” he says. Laughs. It feels awkward. It is awkward.

“Mm.” Kenma lifts his cup to his lips, takes a slow sip.

Wait.

Is that—

That’s a smirk. Kuroo jerks up straight in his chair, awkwardness dropping away in an instant.

“You’re fucking with me,” he accuses. “The first time I see you in fifteen years and you’re fucking with me. Kenma!”

“Fine. I’m an elite hacker working for an international spy gang,” Kenma says.

“Bullshit.”

“Video game developer.”

“You don’t do deadlines.”

“Amusement park attendant.”

“You don’t do people.”

“Stock market analyst.”

“You don’t do capitalism.” The banter flows easy, the years shrinking, old habits coming back quick. The lively chatter of the coffeeshop around them picks up.

“Trophy husband.”

“You don’t do relationships.” After all, that’s why—that’s part of why—

Kenma’s smirk grows. He lifts his left hand.

Kuroo’s gut drops.

There, on his third finger, sits a sleek golden band, shining in the late afternoon sun.

“Ah,” he says, “Congratulations,” he says, and then, because Kuroo is not Kuroo unless his foot is solidly in his mouth, “I guess you have changed.”

Kenma blinks. “How so?”

“Uh—nothing, sorry. Um. Who’s the lucky guy, haha?” Haha. A verbal ha space ha. Wow. Kill him. Just kill him. He wants to die, the awkwardness is choking him, this meeting was a mistake—

“Shouyou.”

“Shrimpy? No way. How have I not heard anything about this?” Kuroo splutters. Hinata is a professional volleyball player. Kuroo follows volleyball religiously. Surely he would have heard—it’s not like Hinata was ever quiet about his personal life—hell, he goes out for drinks with Kei every other week and he never said anything—

How can you be a trophy husband if your husband doesn’t show you off?

“I don’t like attention,” Kenma says with a shrug. “You know I never have.”

“Huh. Yeah.”

Kuroo pulls a mini cup of creamer out of the dish in the center of the table. He peels it open and dumps it into his coffee. He picks up the spoon to stir it in. Pauses.

Well. Okay. Topic change. Should do that. Definitely should do that. So…

“I had the biggest crush on you in high school,” Kuroo blurts.

Why does he ever say things ever that was not what he meant to say that was not even a topic change shit fuck hell—

“I know,” Kenma says. “You weren’t exactly subtle.”

Kuroo maybe chokes on his coffee a little bit. “You knew? And you never—”

Kenma’s fingers wrap around his cup. “I think,” he says, very carefully, very deliberately, each word picked and chosen and placed just so, “that at the time, we were both too scared of too many things to take any sort of step forward. And that was, I think, in the end, for the best.”

Kuroo stares down at his coffee, a white pool of cream floating over the dark surface. “For the best,” he repeats. Quietly.

“For the best,” Kenma confirms.

Kuroo bites the inside of his cheek.

The quiet between them stretches into a silence hovering on the edge of awkwardness. The jumble of coffee shop noise in the background is uneasy, a humming shaking jitter of sound.

Kenma shifts. The light dances on his ring.

Once, a long time ago, fifteen years ago, Kuroo had been twenty-two years old and so damn lonely and missing everything about a simpler time, everything about a simpler world, where he saw his best friend and crush every day and he went to the third gym for volleyball practice every day and he stopped at the corner store on the way back every day and he didn’t need to scramble over deadlines and bills and rent and grocery shopping and job applications and budgets and he could just be.

And once, a long time ago, fifteen years ago, twenty-two year old Kuroo thought of all of these things and linked them all back to one Kozume Kenma and one night in the depths of a particularly nostalgic pity party his mostly-faded high school crush had flared up and stayed steadily burning until—

Kuroo Tetsurou, suddenly feeling all thirty-five of his years weighing on his shoulders, lets out a sigh. “Teenagers, huh.”

Kenma nods.

“Shrimpy taking care of you?” Kuroo asks, because faded crush or no, this was once his best friend and he deserves everything and if Hinata doesn’t know how to give him that—

“Trophy husband, remember?” Kenma says, fondness in his voice. “We’re doing great. Thank you for asking.”

“Good,” Kuroo says. He picks up his spoon and begins to stir the creamer in. “Good.”

“It is.” Kenma looks Kuroo in the eyes, and with a warm smile says, “It is good.”

And the odd thing is, it really is.

[the-twinventors]

An Unpleasant Surprise

WARNING: STUPIDLY LONG!!

It legitimately scared the twins how time flew sometimes. Just yesterday it felt like they’d found out about Galaxy, which was back in June - and now here they were, just a few days away from Christmas. And Stella was practically ready to pop. But she had another month to go yet - in theory, anyway. The Braxton Hicks were going strong, and they both knew actual labour could start at any given moment.

For now, though, they were happy enough to just relax in their apartment. With them being off for winter break, they had all the time they could want to lounge on the couch under a heap of blankets and play video games. The apartment was decorated for the holiday - not too over the top, but still enough to get them a little in the mood. With so many new friends, they were hoping this year would be much better than the previous years.

At least, that was the hope… until they heard a knock on the door.

Stella blinked, exchanging a look with her brother. “You expecting anyone, bro?”

“No. Maybe it’s Maple returning the textbook we lent her. You stay, I’ll get it.” Standing up, Jayce took a second to stretch out - lounging for a long time could make you pretty stiff - before swiping his keys from the coffee table and calmly striding over to the door. Yeah, they didn’t often get visitors, unless they’d pre-planned study groups or game nights, or lent things in the hopes they’d get them back, so they didn’t really think it was anything to be concerned about.

But when he pulled the door open, both twins froze. Their hearts dropped into their stomachs. Their blood chilled to ice.

No… this couldn’t be happening…

“Hello, sweeties~!”

Talia. Talia. Their mother. She was here.

It took Jayce a moment to get his breath back. It honestly felt like he’d been punched in the gut. “… what…?”

Talia laughed, completely ignorant to the issue. “Surprise! I bet you weren’t expecting me to come and visit, were you? It’s been so long - I’ve been dying to see my baby boy and girl again!”

Jayce finally found his tongue properly, his face contorting. “Wh-- what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Oh, well that’s a nice way to say hello to your mother!” Talia frowned, crossing her arms with a playful pout. “I’d expect you to at least be a little happy. I see you’re still as disrespectful as always…”

How can you expect us to be happy when we literally withheld our address so you couldn’t pay a surprise visit like this?!

Actually, on that topic… Jayce shifted in the doorway, his fist clenching. “How the hell did you even get our address?! We never told you what it was!”

“Oh, that bit was easy.” Talia waved her hand like it was all just a big game to her. “I knew Max wasn’t going to tell me - you know how stubborn he is. So I decided to just come to the campus anyway and check in with the admin. They wouldn’t give it to me, either - something about student confidentiality, or something like that. So then I started asking around, hoping one of the other students would know, and what do you know, they did! They even showed me the way to your building!” She laughed again, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “The students here are so nice - I can see why you wanted to come here.”

“Why are you here, though?” Stella leaned over to better see out the doorway from her position on the couch. Thank Chaos all her blankets were hiding her bump. “It’s a three-hour journey, and you can’t drive - wait…” She’d only now just noticed the items at their mother’s side, and she looked alarmed. “Why do you have suitcases??”

“Why do you think, you silly little thing?” Talia lifted both suitcases up by the handle and forcefully nudged past Jayce into the apartment, ignoring how both of them bristled at her nerve. “When you told your father you’d be skipping Christmas again, well, you can imagine how upset I was. It’s supposed to be a time for family, after all! So I decided I’d just come down and spend Christmas with you, since you won’t come to us!”

“Like hell you are.” Jayce pointed at the still-open door. “If you hurry, you might still be able to catch the next bus back to Red Gate City.”

“Besides…” Stella tilted her head suspiciously. “Don’t you still have a bakery to run? Pretty sure your your clientele won’t be happy if all your Christmas treats run out.”

“I’ll have you know that I’ve got a new hire willing to cover my shifts for the season.” Talia frowned at them again, already removing her coat, scarf and gloves. “I want to be able to spend as much time with my babies as possible. Honestly, after I made all the effort to come here…”

We don’t want you here! LEAVE!!

Sighing, Stella sat up a little. She didn’t want to get too angry - Galaxy wouldn’t appreciate it. She was already going nuts in there from how worked up Stella already was. Hopefully Talia would agree to a compromise. “Only for Christmas. You leave on Boxing Day. That’s my pitch - take it or leave it.”

Talia’s eyes lit up, and she smirked, setting her things on top of one of her cases. “That long, sweetie? Surely you’d want to bond with your mother for a little longer--“

“Shut the fuck up and listen to me for once in your damn life.”

Stella leaned forward, tugging at the blankets a little to hide her bump better. “All of us know you’re not gonna leave until you get your own damn way, but at the same time, the two of us aren’t gonna tolerate your little mind games anymore. If you want to stay here for the holidays, you’re gonna have to follow our rules. Either you’re out of here by Boxing Day, or we call campus security to throw you out. And we’re really good friends with the security, so you’re gonna be surprised if you try sweet-talking them. So either take our offer, or go find a hotel if you’re so intimidated by us taking control in our own fucking apartment, but we’re not gonna put up with your ‘my way or the highway’ crap anymore. Do I make myself clear?”

Talia was silent the entire time Stella spoke, an incredulous look frozen on her face - but there was a slight hint of anger too. The twins knew that look all too well. That was her ‘how dare you defy your mother like that’ look. But they both straightened up and hardened their own expressions, refusing to be intimidated. They had to make it clear to her that she wasn’t in control anymore.

After a few seconds, she found her tongue, and she stormed towards the couch, one hand grabbing Stella’s bicep to yank her up. “Alright, you insolent little bitch, you listen to me--”

“Hey, don’t you fucking touch her!” Jayce lunged at her, but she promptly shoved him back, causing him to fall on his tail.

“Get the hell off me!” Stella clawed at Talia’s wrist with her free hand, but she used her other hand to grab the front of her shirt, succeeding in forcefully pulling her off the couch. Unfortunately, her bump threw off her centre of gravity, which resulted in her tumbling off the couch and falling on her knees, the blankets falling away.

“Get away from her!!” Jayce grabbed Talia’s shoulders and yanked her away viciously, hard enough that both of them tumbled over backwards.

Shoving him back again, she stood up, looking towards Stella again. “Listen here, you--”

She froze, eyes widening in shock. It was only then the twins realised the new issue they had to deal with. Stella’s very pregnant belly was now on full display for all to see. Their plans of hiding Galaxy from Talia were completely dashed now. Sighing in annoyance at the realisation, but more concerned about whether or not the tumble had hurt Galaxy, Stella carefully rose to her feet again, one hand on her stomach to try and gauge what was happening. The whole time, Talia just stared and pointed, her lips twitching as she tried to form words, while Jayce slowly began to move between the two women to prevent another blowup.

One more silence later, Talia’s face contorted again, into a vicious snarl. “You stupid girl! You got yourself pregnant?! What the hell were you thinking?! Oh, Chaos, what are people going to think of you?! What are my friends going to think when I go home and tell them my daughter’s a little whore?!”

“They better not think anything. Because it’s none of their fucking business.” Furious as she was, Stella maintained a calm tone of voice. “Just like it’s not any of yours. Our lives aren’t one of your stupid soap operas to gossip about.”

“Excuse me?! You’re my daughter, so it’s my business! You have to get rid of it!” Talia crossed her arms, glaring at Jayce. “Why the hell didn’t you think to stop her, you stupid boy?!”

“Hey, don’t you fucking dare pin this on me. She made the choice to keep her baby.” Jayce met her glare evenly. “And I support her decision, as a matter of fact. Like she said, it’s none of your business what we do with our lives.”

“Yes it is! You have to get rid of it!” Talia frowned disapprovingly at Stella. “I’m taking you to the nearest abortion clinic tomorrow! I’m getting you an emergency appointment! I’m sure they can find some way to squeeze you in--”

“They won’t.” A triumphant smirk formed on the younger twin’s muzzle. “I’m coming up to thirty-five weeks. No reputable clinic is gonna abort a pregnancy as far along as mine.”

Talia snarled, unwilling to admit Stella was right. “Well, you’ll just have to adopt it out, then! When are you due? We might still have time to make the proper arrangements--”

“No.” Stella stepped right up to her, meeting her eyes. “I’m not gonna let my child feel as unloved as you made us feel. I plan on being a better mother to her than you ever were to us. And if you think you’re going to have any part in her life, you’re fucking delusional.”

“Wh--?” Talia had the gall to look confused. “Don’t be stupid, you’ve never looked after a baby! I’m more qualified than you are! Oh, actually, that’s a good idea - just give that baby to me!” She lit up like she’d had the epiphany of the year. “I’ve got far more parenting experience than either of you - that baby will be much better off with me than with either of you!”

“We can confirm from experience that she won’t.” Jayce rolled his eyes.

“Oh, don’t be silly! You and your brothers all turned out fine, didn’t you?” Talia laughed, like nothing was wrong with how she’d raised them. “Trust me, you’ll be doing that poor thing a favour letting me have it - you’ll thank me later! It’s only going to suffer if you’re the ones responsible for--”

Before either her or Jayce had time to react, both of Stella’s hands had shot out and grabbed the front of Talia’s shirt, yanking her down to eye level. The next few minutes were filled with an incredibly tense silence - neither twin had ever shown any kind of violence to Talia before, so this was definitely new. When she next spoke, her voice was dark and threatening, the tone of a scorned mother determined to protect her child.

“You’re going to have to pry my daughter out of my cold, dead hands.”

For just another moment more, Talia stared, unable to believe that her children were daring to defy her. Though they couldn’t understand why - they’d been defying her ever since they were in elementary school, so she had to be used to it by now. Did she really have her head that far up her own back end that she thought they’d just bend to her? She should have known better…

“Oh, would you look at the time!” Talia’s sudden chirp caught their attention. “You spent so much time pointlessly bickering with me that I’ve missed the last bus! You silly little things!”

Horrified, the twins spun around to find the clock - fuck, she was right! The last bus was gone! Had she deliberately provoked them into arguing with her to waste that time?! Ugh, they were so fucking stupid!!

“Right… well, our offer is still up there. You can either find a hotel, or be out of our apartment by Boxing Day.” Stella released Talia, still glaring angrily. “But because you could have hurt my daughter pulling me off the couch, I’m really not comfortable having you in the apartment.”

“Neither am I.” Jayce snatched Talia’s things from the suitcase and tossed them back over to her, a glare of his own forming. “You’ve got one chance to leave on your own before I kick you out myself. There should still be a few hotels open willing to give you a room.”

Talia scoffed. “You two aren’t seriously going to kick your own mother out, are you? Well, it’s going to take more than that.” Tossing her things back onto her case, she slammed the door shut and began pulling them along towards the bedroom doors. “Besides, you’re going to need my help with the baby if you’re so insistent on keeping it, so I might as well hang around until it’s born. You’ll thank me later. Now, which rooms are yours? I need to see which one I’m going to be staying in…”

Jayce and Stella exchanged a look - one that screamed fear, frustration and full-on anger. This was not going to be fun…

[tellywoodtrash]

sanjivani 05.11.19 lb

i'm already all yelled out with @nawaazishein​ even before watching this ep but... here we go.

———————————————————————

SIS TU BOLNA BANDH KAREGI TOH WOH KUCH BOLEGA. TRAIN KI TARAH CHADHE JAA RAHI HAI USKE UPAR.

ishani toh silence se violence pe utar aa gayi. good, achcha target hai yeh. issi ke wajah se toh hua hai sab.

........... this proves nothing. they were bffs already. like if rahil had a pic like this of sid and himself as his wallpaper, would she react the same way? matlab, kandhe pe haath hi toh rakha hai, not like they're making out with tongue in the pic.

aman almost seems more broken up about sid/ishani than asha (and his unborn fetus.) waah re indian tv. shipping ho toh aisi.

i feel nothing. i feel nothing for any of these fucking dumbasses. you're all so fucking dumb, jesus. how are grownass adults allowed to be this goddamn stupid????

suchhhhhhhhhhh fucking bad dubbing. like srsly, y'all couldn't shoot a decent scene with robin while you had him???

BRO MAAFI TUJHE PEHLE ASHA SE MAANGNI CHAHIYE, THE FUCK IS THIS BULLSHIT?!?!?!

THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN SID NE MUJHE DHOKA NAHI DIYA?????? JUST COZ HE DIDN'T HAVE SEX WITH ASHA DOESN'T MEAN HE DIDN'T FUCK YOU OVER WITH WHAT HE DID. SIS WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?????/

"AB MAIN BILKUL THEEK HOON." 

UHHHHHHHHH I BEG TO DIFFER.

this boy needs to legit be put on r/dogshaming, with the amount of guilty puppy face he makes.

BEHEN YOU NEED TO LEGIT GET A HOLD ON YOURSELF WITH THIS ADORING, WORSHIPING LOOK. HE WENT AND MARRIED A WHOLEASS OTHER PERSON 12 HOURS AFTER TELLING YOU HE LOVED YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!

NO. STEP THE FUCK BACK. HE IS SOMEONE ELSE'S CONVENIENT HUSBAND. NO TOUCHY-WOUCHY TILL THE COURTS/GOD HIMSELF MAKES A DECISION ABOUT THE DISSOLUTION OF THEIR MARRIAGE.

of course.

shashank be like jfc all my kids are fucking crazy. uh DOYYYYYYYYYY. SIR MASHA'ALLAH SE AAP HI KE NAKSHE KADAM PE CHAL RAHEIN HAIN.

juhi giving generic insta/facebook waala parenting advice that childless ppl give sooooooooo easily.

she's so cute and they're so happy around each other and i wanna support this but ughhhhhhhhhhhhhh. i'll eventually make my begrudging peace with it, but for now imma sulk.

you're making some lofty promises, ishani; considering you just walked in, don't know what's wrong with her/the fetus, and haven't even so much as looked at a goddamn chart or run a test.

ugh poor asha. she's so so relieved to get her female friend back. i feel that, sis. no matter how much a man tries, he just can’t be as comforting as a woman. it’s just fact, dude.

lmao instant accusation on sid. bechaara, he can't do anyyyyyyything right these days. kahaan phas gaya yaar tu? achchi khaasi toh chal rahi thi teri life. neki karne ke chakkar mein pair pe kulhaadi nahi, apna saara pair hi amputate kar diya tuney, bewakoof.

someone unleash this hormone-riddled, ragey asha on aman. i would like to see it.

haan, maafi aur dosti ke tu kaabil nahi hai... par ugh. pighal gaya dil, kya karein ab.

LMAO ISKA HAAL DEKHO. I CAN'T HELP BUT LAUGH AT THIS DUMBASS DHOBI KA KUTTA. BOHUTTTTT SHAUK CHADHA THA NA??? AUR BANN MAHAAN.

"uss raat mein tumhaare paas aa raha tha..." pft. that’s enough to make laddoos phootofy in ishani's brain.

STUPID. STUPID STUPID STOOOOOOOOOPID FUCKING SMILEY BEAN I WANT TO KILL YOU FROM SHEER RAGE WHY ARE YOU SO DAMNED CUTE YOU STUPIDASS FUCKER MY GOD THE CONFLICTING EMOTIONS RUNNING THROUGH MY BODY RIGHT NOW I NEED TO FUCKING LIE THE FUCK DOWN.

BRO HONESTLY, WHAT THE FUCK KINDA EXCUSE IS THIS??????? MESSAGE NAHI KAR SAKTA THA KYA TU ISHANI KO, NORMAL INSANO KI TARAH???? DOES WHATSAPP NOT EXIST IN THIS UNIVERSE???? HER BEST FRIEND JUST CALLED SCREAMING AND THREATENING SUICIDE AND YOU DIDN'T THINK SHE DESERVED TO KNOW OR COME HELP????????? YOU JUST LET HER HANG OUT OBLIVIOUSLY AT A RESTAURANT TILL 2 AM WHILE THIS WAS GOING ON????? THE ACTUAL FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOUR BRAIN?????

lmao ketchup.

asha, you're a doctor. you should already know that wrist-cutting has super fucking low chances of actually resulting in death. also if you really didn't care about the life of your fetus then, why didn't you just go for an abortion????? itna pain aur bleeding bhi nahi hota MTP mein toh........ idk why the hell you didn't just go for that option.

asha unknowingly pushing alllllllllllllllll of sid's triggers. how serendipitous!

"iss bachche ko baap ka naam milega."

oh cool, so you'll go find aman and reason with him then? to come back and make a rational, logical decision together with asha?

"iss bachche ko main apna naam doonga."

oh. oh no. completely the fucking opposite then. UH HUH, OK COOL. MAKES TOTAL SENSE.

AND ASHA, LIKE I SYMPATHISE WITH YOU AND YOUR SITUATION, BUT THE FUCK KINDA STUPID ASS EXCUSE IS THIS FOR MARRYING HIM????? USNE OFFER KIYA AUR TUMNE ACCEPT KAR LIYA??????? IF THE WATCHMAN OF YOUR BUILDING OR A POLICE OFFICER OR SOMETHING HAD BROKEN IN TO SAVE YOU AND MADE THE SAME OFFER, WOULD YOU MARRY THEM???? MATLAB YEH KYAAAAA HI BAKWAAAAAS LOGIC HAI KISI SE SHAADI KARNE KA????

BITCH ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY??????? STOP GAZING AT HIM LIKE THAT. JESUS. YOU'RE ALL FUCKING BATSHIT MENTAL. SANJIVANI NEEDS TO START DOING MANDATORY COUNSELING BEFORE INDUCTING PEOPLE INTO ITS RESIDENCY PROGRAM. I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M SAYING THIS BUT PERHAPS ARMAAN AND RIDDHIMA AND THAT DUMBASS BUNCH OF OVERGROWN TWEENS WERE SMARTER THAN THESE ACTUAL-GOBAR-FOR-BRAINS NINCOMPOOPS?!?!?!?

———————————————————————

haan ok saath toh tu hai, par isse aage kya???? you're just gonna live happily playing ~~ishani maasi~ to this kid, ecstatic about the fact that he didn't have sex with asha to make this one particular baby???? what about the rest of their marriage and lifelong co-parenting relationship???? LIKE...... WHAT'S YOUR LONG TERM VISION OF THIS SITCH AND HOW YOU FIT INTO IT, ISHANI?????? GOD. YOU'RE SO FUCKING STUPID, I CAN'T EVEN.....

[avengerscompound]

The Five Stages - Unexpected Father

The Five Stages: An Iron Man Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a coffee with Ko-fi Word Count: 2386

Pairing:  Tony Stark x F!Reader

Warnings:  Age difference (not used as a kink), Smut (Oral sex, vaginal sex), talk of abortion

Synopsis:  When you discover you’re pregnant you’re scared to tell Tony. Hopefully, you underestimate the man he really is.

Unexpected Father

You sit on the edge of the bath tapping the positive pregnancy test on the porcelain rim of the tub.  You think you should be panicking right now.  This wasn’t planned.  You weren’t even sure how it would go down.  You hadn’t even considered the option of having children.  It was always there in this far off, maybe one day, that’s what people do kind of thing.

You had a career.  Things were going well.  This wasn’t the far off down the road time.  You had things to do.  You were going to cure Bruce.  Can you do both?  That’s something people do right?  It’s not like you were single right?  You had money.  Hiring a nanny wasn’t an unreasonable expectation.

But there was the real problem.  You weren’t single.  You were dating Tony Stark.  The serial philanderer.  The guy who had intimacy issues.  The guy who struggled to even say ‘I love you’ and had to think of other ways to express that he did.  How the fuck was Tony Stark going to deal with hearing the news he was now headed down the path to becoming a father?

He’d certainly never brought up wanting kids with you.  Not once had it even been hinted at.  He was also pushing fifty now.  You’d think if he wanted them he’d have already had them.  Having them now with someone twenty years younger than him might just not seem practical.

So while all these thoughts of how terrible this is.  How bad your luck is that your birth control failed you.  How you had no idea what you should do right now.  You sit thinking you should be panicking, but instead, you feel eerily calm.  Like there are too many emotions for you to feel so instead you feel nothing.

There’s a sudden thud on the door as Tony tries to open it not realizing it’s locked.

“Honey, why is the door closed?”  He says, in a sing-song voice.  In retrospect doing the test in his penthouse and not your own apartment was probably a mistake.  This part of the bathroom is just a shower and a bath too.  So there is no reason for you to have locked it.  You never lock it.  You’re not even sure why you came in here.  It’s not where you took the test.

You get up and unlock the door.  Tony looks you up and down his eyebrows knitted together.  “What’s going on?  I thought you’d be taking a bath.”

You shake your head and turn away from him and he grabs your arm.  “Hey.  Seriously.  What’s wrong?”

You turn back to him and look up into his brown eyes.  The concern is real, and there is faint panic behind them.  He’s not used to you being like this.  You’re usually quick with your words.  Easy to comfort him or to tell him everything is fine in the normal snark that flows between you.

“How do you feel about being a dad?”  You ask.

“You’re hilarious,”  He replies.  “What is it really?”

You laugh.  It’s a little hollow and not really because you think anything is funny.  Of course, he thinks you’re joking.  It’s so far from his sphere of possibility that there’s no way you could be serious.  “I’m pregnant.”

“No, you’re not.  Stop messing with me.  If you’re sick I want to know.”  He says.

You laugh again, this time there is a little more amusement in it.  The fact he is so sure is just quite funny.  After all the years of casual sex and no accidents he actually thinks this is an impossibility.  “Seriously, Tony.”  You say, taking his hand and putting the pregnancy test in it.  “But you obviously don’t want it.  I wasn’t sure.  So … I guess abortion it is.”

Tony looks down at the test and back to you.  His face is blank for a moment.  Still processing the information.  “I don’t know how to read this.”  He says.

“Two lines means positive for pregnancy, Mister Stark.”  FRIDAY answers.

“This is her test right?”  He asks.  That one stings for a second before you realize he doesn’t think you’re trying to scam him, he still thinks this is an elaborate prank.  You sit down on the edge of the bath laughing silently, doubled over and your hands touching the cool tiles of the bathroom floor.

“The test was taken ten minutes ago.  A positive result does align with the fact that her period is two weeks late and she has been suffering from severe nausea the past week.”  The AI responds.

“FRIDAY!”  You yelp getting to your feet and, looking up at the ceiling.  “What the hell?”

“I’m simply explaining to Mister Stark that you are telling the truth.”  She says.

“But you were on birth control,”  Tony says, his tone accusatory.

“I am on birth control.  Present tense.  They aren’t 100% effective though.  How much sex have you had?  I guess the odds weren’t in your favor.”  You answer.

“FRIDAY?”  Tony asks.

“Most modern birth control is not 100%.  The birth control you have been using is an implantation rod containing the hormone etonogestrel.  The rod is still implanted and does not need replacing for another two years.  It is 99.9% effective as a birth control device.”  FRIDAY explains.

“FRIDAY!”  You yelp again.  “That is so invasive.”

“I’m sorry miss.  I just catalog what happens in the tower.”   She replies.

You look at Tony with your eyebrow raised but he’s completely oblivious to your judgment of this invasion of privacy.  Slowly a smile breaks out on his face.  “We’re really going to have a kid?”

You’re taken aback for a moment and can’t think of a thing to say.  Before you have a chance to say anything he’s wrapped you in his arms and is nuzzling against your neck.  “I have seriously got to be the luckiest man alive.  99.9% chance.  That’s one in a thousand.  I have had way more sex than a thousand times.  Shit.  How much have we done it?  Mm… maybe not quite a thousand.  But we’d be getting there.  It’s not every day, but sometimes it’s so many times.”  He babbles.  You smile and card your fingers through his hair, getting caught up in his excitement.  “And then it happens.  And okay, maybe I wasn’t planning this, but I had honestly thought it had gotten to the point that I should put that aside.  But really, if I think about it, I do want that.  And yeah okay, it’s scary.  My dad was… well shit.  So I don’t have the best role model.  But with you.  You - I can see raising a kid with.”

He stops suddenly and holds you out at arm’s length his face fallen.  “Fuck. You want an abortion.  Sorry.  I got carried away.  I’ll… I’ll support your decision.”

You can tell that was hard for him to say.  The words seem forced and like they don’t belong to him.  You shake your head.  “I don’t know what I want honestly.”  You reply.  “Wasn’t in the ol’ game plan, Old Man.”

“I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want.”  He says.  “Especially not that.  You think maybe we should have this conversation not in the middle of my bathroom?”

You nod and follow him out to the kitchen.  You sit at the table but Tony isn’t able to keep still.  He moves around the room pulling out a teapot you’ve never even seen him use before and putting on a kettle you didn't even know he had to boil.  He then gets his french press and you watch as he adds tea leaves to the pot and coffee grounds to the press.  “Since when do you have loose leaf tea?   Or a teapot?”

“It’s for guests.”  He snarks. “I know how to show people a good time.”

“You sure do.”  You tease.

He looks at you with one eyebrow raised and a half smile on his lips.  For a moment you forget why you came in here.  It’s just you and Tony flirting over coffee like you’ve done hundreds of times before.

“Is that so, darling?  Maybe I can put you up on the counter and show you a good time right here and now?”

You get up and approach him.  Your fingers trail from his abs to his chest.  “Maybe you should.”  You say.

He grabs your thighs and lifts you onto the kitchen counter and you start kissing furiously.  It’s a battle for control and neither of you is conceding.  Your tongues circle each other and you bite ate each other’s lips.  Tony pulls away abruptly and rests his head on your chest.

“We should talk.  You know… open communication.  That’s what my therapist keeps harping on about.”  Tony says.

“Don’t talk about Sedona like that.”  You scold.

“Don’t defend her just because you think she’s hot.”  Tony returns.

You open your mouth in mock outrage, despite the fact you do indeed think Tony’s therapist is extremely hot.  She’s also extremely good at her job and you get the feeling if it weren’t for her the reaction he was having right now would have been quite different.  Part of you wonders what their next appointment is going to be like after this.

You rest your forehead on Tony’s and sigh.  “I am not opposed to having the baby, Tony.  It just wasn’t expected.  And I thought you’d be mad.”

“Why would I be mad?”  He asks sounding a little hurt.

You shrug.  “I was mad. I’m on birth control to stop this from happening.  And like you said, you’ve gone a really, really, really long time without having any.  I thought you didn’t want them.”

“Was that a subtle dig about my age?”  He teases.

You smirk.  “A little bit.”

He chuckles and engulfs you in his arms.  You snuggle in under his chin and he presses a kiss to the top of your head.  “You are such trouble.”

“I know.“  You reply.  “I don’t want to stop working.”

Tony laughs and pulls back to look at you.  “Who are you talking to?  Why would I make you give up that?  You’re so close to that breakthrough.  I want to see it.”

“You really think nothing will change?”  You ask.

Tony starts laughing again.  “You’re killing me today.”  He says.  “Of course it will, dummy.  It’s a baby.”

“Tony.”  You whine.

He wraps his arms around you again.  “I can not believe you’re making me be the rational one here.  You get ten more minutes of it tops.  You know that… I love…”  He pauses and takes a deep breath.  “I fucking love you okay.  I do.  And if you want to take this step I want it, I just… the words… you know?”

You nod your head.  “You need to work on that.  You can’t just repeat Howard’s mistakes.”

He nods.  “I know.  I’ll tell them all the time.  Don’t worry.”

You look up at him.  “Alright.  Let’s give it a go.”

“You should move into the penthouse.”  He says.

“Yeah.  Okay.”  You agree.

“Alight good.  Good.  Big life changes.  Got an heir to the fortune.”  Tony says stepping back and looking at you.  “Now where were we?”

You grab his collar and pull him in into a hard kiss.  He rolls his hips against you and you can feel his cock start to stiffen as you dance your tongues together.  The two of you kiss until your lips start to tingle from the scratch of his beard.  Your hand slips into his pants and you wrapped your fingers around his cock and starts to slowly pump.  He makes a strangled moan into your mouth.

You slip off the counter and spin him around.  You drop to your knees unfastening his belt and pulling his jeans down just enough to free his cock.  It springs up and you run your tongue along the length of his shaft before swirling it around the head and lapping up the sticking bead of precome that had pooled on the tip.

His hands fist in your hair as you pull his cock into your mouth and thrust your head down, so your lips touch on his groin and your airways are blocked.

“Fuck.”  He groans and you start to bob your head up and down.

You move your head, sucking up and down and swirling your tongue.  You use it to massage his shaft.

“Mister Stark there is a call from your law office,”  FRIDAY says.

Tony groans again.  “Tell them I’m not in.”  He says, a slight whine in his voice.

“They’re insisting it’s urgent.”  FRIDAY insists.

You pull off his cock and look up at him, a wicked smile on your lips.  “Take it.”  You purr.

He chuckles and shakes his head.  “You dirty bitch.”  He teases.  “Put it through, FRIDAY.”

You return to sucking his cock as there is a click over the speakers.  “Talk to me,”  Tony says, trying to hide the shake to his voice.

“Mister Stark, it’s Mike Abrams.  We’ve been contacted by a woman claiming to be your daughter.”  A male voice responds.

You stall for a moment looking up at Tony he shakes his head like it’s nothing and rolls his hips forward.  “Why are you coming to me with this. It wouldn’t be the first time.  Run the tests, show her the door.”

“We have run the tests, Mister Stark,”  Mike responds.

You pause again and this time Tony pulls back.  You get to your feet as he pulls his jeans back on.  “You what?”

“We ran the tests.  She’s a match.  Her story checks out.  She’s your daughter.”  Mike replies.

You reach out to Tony and take his hand, running your thumb over the back of it, in what you hope is a soothing motion.  “What?  I can’t… How… Who is… Who is this woman?”  Tony asks.

“Her name is Sarah Walker.  Her mother’s name is Evelyn Walker.  You met her at a party you went to instead of showing up to the MET Gala in 1991.  She grew up in Westchester.”   Mike explained.

“Right.  Right.  Wait, did you say 1991?  But that means…”  He says and looks at you.

You stare at him wide-eyed.  “She’s my age.”  You mouth.

// NEXT

[mikejonespens]

“After eighteen years of silence, he was finally learning to speak with his hands…”

    Jamie made his slow-winding way to a bar stool. He lifted himself with a hollow grunt, sliding one leg across to the other side and planting his aching buttocks onto the worn leather cushion. He’d have the usual Long Island Iced Tea. Heavily arched over his drink, he drew from its contents and exhaled. The thrusting of his breath mimicked the exhaust dispersed during a launch in Florida, swiftly scattering whatever dust was beneath his jawline. The bartender, Callie, a seasoned woman with silky black hair that draped her broad tested shoulders, glanced along her cat-eye to his direction. She conjured another beverage and walked it to him, with a slight raise of her aging cheekbones and subtle squeeze between the angles of her lips. Jamie broke the chalk of his skin to resemble a reciprocate smile but mustered merely minuscule motions, confusing his facial muscles with an unfamiliar request.

    Callie removed three glasses from in front of him, wiping the rims with a used rag and placed them in a bin for Al, the busboy. “I heard the birds singing some sweet tune earlier,” she said as she pushed the fresh drink toward him. Trailing serpentine behind the sweating dish, her dingy rag hardly drying the mahogany topside. “You’re not thirsty, suddenly?”

    Jamie gripped the handle and tilted the liquid to investigate what it could be. It wasn’t a long island. Perhaps vodka or gin. He dismounted the lemon from the rim and strangled the juice into Callie’s fluidic offering, then stirred deliberately. Before partaking, he reached into his jacket pocket, maneuvering between his keys and loose change to reveal a pad of sticky notes. He dabbed the tip of a ballpoint on the surface of the drink and wrote What song?

    Callie looked down the bridge of her thin rounded nose into the blot left behind by his pen. Her waning smirk lowered in pendulum contrast with the opposite brow. “Before your time,” she shrugged.

    Jamie sighed and lost any interest he summoned. In his neck, the gears ground sharply against each other to turn his attention outside the windows. The windows’ frame stretched upward and on days as this one, luminous bright white beams land softly through the transparent entity onto the floor. The wooden planks were stained and mildly warped. Each watermark tallied the years Regular Joe’s Bar maintained, from hosting state championships to mediating political debates among local drunks. Jamie remained stage right intrigued with the performance but seldom participated. On rare occasion, he exercised expression, contributing dim chuckles or shaming head wags. Though in the midst of riveting yet quarrelsome discussion, he was easily distracted by the light that coated the topmost layer of the uniform planks. When Jamie remembered to raise his sight line (the chiropractor urged his minding his posture) and the light gleamed through the glass, to him it blurred their facial features and transformed agitated faces into abstract, animate characters trading wit rather than clashing their egos. After too long, he knew the atmosphere was different than his own perception alluded and needed to filter the deceiving light.

    Thump! A bird, a pigeon likely, rammed its beak into the glass windows and descended quickly unto death. Jamie’s neck jerked down into the cavity of his upper shoulders, returning to Callie’s glare, a numb right glute and chilling perspiration in his palm resting against the unidentified fluid object.

    Reality haunted him, its deceptive nature is unmatched and omniscience all the more daunting. Even his imagination, a supposed remote destination, the alteration of uncomfortable present events, was often aborted before developing into sustainable thoughts or hopeful notions or definitive ambitions or anything notably intangible. Its reach is boundless and where no presence is welcomed apart from his own conscience, reality would refine the grainy images that pleased him. Stills and motion pictures that, when lacking resolution, invited his interpretation which seldom translated trading blows to genuine animosity. Must’ve been a simple misunderstanding, he thought or, What sport! Plausibly, Jamie was simply naive to bend the light of truth, refracting what’s plain and direct into colors that satisfy the need to see something more (or less). So when annoyance turned distressed in the widening of Callie’s eyes and her focus stretched past his position, naturally, he expected some minor occurrence like the elderly tumbling or a stickup.

    “Keep your hands off her! Last time I’ma tell you,” a recognizable voice warned.

    “Man, back th-the f-f-fu’up. Tha’s my woman. I can do the hell I please with m-my woman.” An upchuck flirted with his tongue, attempting to diminish his prowess and save the man from an inevitable scuffle. Four shots into a young evening and little would reel back his cognizance, thus seven shots earlier ruined his chances of returning home unscathed.

    The two men invoked a forming congregation. Rumbling floorboards tickled the hairs sprouting Jamie’s neck and the unrest of the crowd pulled his helix to face them, but not yet his complete concern. Men along his peripheral gained interest and abandoned their brew to consume this other distraction. Still, he remained in the impression of his seat. In part because he lost sensation where his backside occupied space, but also the gleaming rays began to again beckon his presence in the void of his imagination.

    Sloppy rebuttal continued, “Mind your own business, boy. Tha’s my wo-man.” He dragged his rubber limb like a ball-and-chain from behind him to the direction of his opposition, shifting his balance from one side to the other. In another attempt, he landed his flailing knuckles against a sober clavicle.

    The man with the familiar voice clasped his grip to the drunkard’s collar chuckling with amusement, almost embarrassment for his upcoming victim like watching your nephew stumble on his lines at his first play, “You messed up, family.”

    Family? Jamie thought. His spine whipped upright and rotated toward the source of jargon. Lincoln the Third, his brute of a confidant, was planted right knee first in the drunk’s gut. His bloodied fists scraped the whites through punctures of thick cocoa skin. The surrounding persons began to close in and barricade Jamie’s view. He stood, but his slender tower failed in effort to overcast the spectators. His steps gradually accelerated haste. The slew of observers, in a sudden uproar of excitement, shock, discomfort, and guilty pleasure, became dense and forcibly resistant. Jamie thought, Lincoln the Third must have finished him off. Must’ve gone for the throat or pierced his intestines or yanked the jerk’s collar straight out or… no, he’s honorable—an air-tight stranglehold would suffice.

    When he broke the edge of the crowd, with Lincoln the Third in his sight, another man was abusing his gut, presumably in favor of the drunk. That drunk bastard. Lincoln is taking some tough blows, there. He—wow, he’s really in deep shit.

    The rampant punches continued and Jamie became eager with rage and impulse. Around him, their bubbling skin and entertained eyes begged for the ongoing onslaught, and that annoyed him. His tongue crawled back into his throat the same moment “Get your ass off!” hiked up his esophagus and made post in the cave of his mouth. Grunts and moans replaced his call for truce and plea to stop the scene before witnessing manslaughter. An invisible tightrope bordered the match, and Jamie dared step in the ring. Amidst a loud simultaneous bellowing of amusement (louder than their excitement following this other man sneak attacking Lincoln the Third), he dug his unkempt, dark-rimmed fingertips into the man’s posterior and yanked him up off of Lincoln, then plummeting the man’s back into his bony kneecap. The laughter turned into agonized surprise and a hum of disbelief. Gasps and varying exclamations.

    Jamie pulled his friend by the wrist from the blood on the floor and thought, I couldn’t let him keep at you! Discomfort, embarrassment and pride blanketed his faint smile.

    Lincoln the Third, with whatever strength he had left and the brace of Jamie’s extended arm, hoisted himself into Jamie, leaning and panting on Jamie’s jacket. He pushed himself back just inside Jamie’s field of vision, patted his chest twice, open palm, and sighed a relieving gust of air. “Are you okay?” He looked toward the lady he had been protecting, “Really hopin’ I ain’t take those licks for nothing.”

     “I’m—I don’t even know him. I’m so sorry,” she seemed ashamed. “Thank you, really.”

    “Mhm.” Lincoln dragged himself along Jamie’s pace, his arm loose around his rescuer’s shoulder.

    Jamie rested Lincoln into the same stool he’d been in then sat adjacent, gazing at his own hands. Lincoln knows I’d do pretty much anything for him. He’s done good by me, but now he knows I’m good for it. He knows.

     Barely a word had been spoken between the pair for so long, Jamie wondered what Lincoln stayed around for. His words of appreciation, of camaraderie during their drinking sessions, of interest in Lincoln’s stories eluded him very often, but after eighteen years of silence, he believed he’d learned to speak with his hands. He looked to Callie, who was still stunned by recent events, and he pointed to the sweating glass she gifted him, suggesting curiosity.

     “Lemon water,” she replied.