#debated on coloring a couple but eh settled on these

[nico-the-overlord]

blorbo bingo: Patton!

Funny how as I looked over them, not alot of them applied to him with me I think.

[cevansbrat0007]

The Key

Summary: A broken furnace and a slip of the tongue lead to a special gift from your very stubborn boyfriend. Andy Barber x Black Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Protective Andy Barber, Insecure Reader, Pet Names, Light Smut, Implied Oral (fem receiving), Cursing, Minors DNI.

A/N: I don't know where this came from, but it's almost 3AM and I need to sleep. Anyway, I'm halfway done with like eight different fics, most of them requests. But then my writer's block kicked in. Please enjoy this installment while I try to get my life together. Part of my Growing Pains Series. All mistakes are my own.

___

"Ack, Andy Bear! What are you doing here?" You squeal as your man strides through your front door with you in his arms, your short legs wrapped around his trim waist. "Sh-shouldn't you be packing? Ope - don't forget the door!"

His booted heel kicks it closed. "Had to come check on you." Andy responds before brushing his warm lips over your own. "I'm your man, baby. It's what I do."

"But I'm fine..." You tell him, burying your face in the crook of his neck and inhaling his clean, masculine scent. "I don't need anything."

"No, you said you were cold. That makes you not fine." He tells you as his hand skims its way under your sweatshirt to lightly stroke your lower back. "I can't have you over here freezing while I'm out of town - I wouldn't be able to concentrate. I'd be too busy thinkin' about my baby girl home all alone just shivering."

"Oh, my goodness, Big Man. My landlord will be by to fix my furnace in a couple of days. Until then...I guess I'll just have to keep doubling up on sweatshirts." Wanting him to relax, you begin whispering sweet kisses along his bearded jaw, nuzzling at the soft scruff with your nose.

"A couple days is completely unacceptable." He growls, his tone letting you know that he was in no mood to argue. "It's November. And we live in fucking Massachusetts."

"Andy, sweetheart..." He shifts your smaller frame so that you're resting comfortably on his hip. Your boyfriend then carries you to your room and gently deposits you on your pink and periwinkle-colored duvet, all the while ignoring your feeble protests.

"You're staying at my place until that Ralph fucker decides to get off his ass and do his fucking job." Your man informs you as he begins rifling through your drawers, pulling out items and then haphazardly tossing them into your overnight bag.

God, how you adored every inch of your big, overbearingly ridiculous man.

"Honey, his name is Rodney. And I'll be fine. If it gets too bad, I can go stay with Melissa or something."

"Nope." Andy grunts, holding a pair of lacy pink panties up to the light. "The matter's already been settled. I want you in my home, snuggled in my bed, all tangled up in my of the sheets."

Shaking his head, he tosses the underwear back inside before muttering something about you "only needing the essentials".

Wait. Since when did those no longer fall under the category of essential?

"How many bras do you think you'll need? Eh, fuck it. You can bring 'em all if you want. It's the panties I have a problem with. Damned things always get in the way."

You scrub an exhausted hand over your face as your six-foot-something boyfriend remains hunkered in front of your dresser, quietly debating the usefulness, or lack-there-of, of your underthings.

"They get in the way of what?" Of course you just had to know.

"My fun." He grumbles, flashing you a petulant look. "So they stay here. Shit - I left my garment bag by the door. Go on and snag a few blouses and some pants, baby girl, and I'll help you get them all packed up before we freeze to death in here."

"Oh. My. God." You roll your eyes. It wasn't even that cold.

At least not yet.

"Andrew, darling, I never actually agreed to go with you. Plus, I don't even have a key to - oh." Your stubborn bull of a man silences you with a heated look before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a small white box tied with a black ribbon.

"I was planning to give this to you on your birthday, but this seems like a much better time. As of now, I want you to consider my home your home too."

Removing the key from the box, you stare down at the shiny piece of metal your man had made especially for you.

Why did the weight of it feel so good resting in your hand?

"Thank you." You whisper, tears burning the back of your throat.

"You're welcome, Y/N. I want you to use it whenever. Come stay for a night, or for a week..."

Or, for forever. He thinks, letting the unspoken words hang in the air between you.

"But as for your not agreeing to go with me, well, I'm afraid that just won't work." Andy tsks as he zips up your duffle before unceremoniously tossing it into the hall. "One way or another, we're getting you out of this ice box, little one."

"Okay," you try again. "But what about my car? I really don't think -"

"Why are you fighting me on this?" He asks, his sensual lips set in a thin, firm line. "I need you some place safe and warm while I'm busy shaking hands and negotiating deals in D.C."

Your eyes stray back to the key that is now nestled safely in its little box filled with pink tissue paper.

"Answer me, please." Oh, Andy was using his attorney voice, the one that commanded both respect and attention in the courtroom.

"I - I just don't want to be any trouble. I feel bad for even saying anything about my stupid heat in the first place." You admit with a resigned shrug. "You need to be getting ready for your trip, but instead you're - you're here."

"I'm here because you need me."

"But I - I don't." You wince as those two words come tumbling out of your mouth.

Because it was a lie. You did need him.

"That scares you a little bit, doesn't it? The idea of needing someone, of needing me."

"No." You feel your lower lip begin to tremble ever so slightly.

God, yes.

"Y/N, how many times do I have to remind you that we're in this together? I'm your man. And I'm old-school when it comes to that shit. I believe in taking care of my woman, in providing for her however I can."

"I get it, Andy." You do your best to look at everything and everywhere but him. This man had a knack for making you feel vulnerable, and you weren't always comfortable with that.

"No, you don't." Using two long fingers, he tips your chin so that his soulful blue eyes clash with your own. "Whether you realized you were doing it or not, you called because you needed me today. And it's my job to take care of you - all of you."

"But I don't want to be a job for you. A job runs the risk of becoming a burden real fuckin' quick. And then when it becomes too much, bam! You run the other way." You jerk away from him, preferring to stare at your fuzzy sock-clad feet, wishing you could simply melt into the floor.

And there it was. You were afraid that this man would drop you like a bad habit the moment you became a burden. And as dramatic as it might sound, there was a part of you that knew that your heart might never fully recover something like that. Not with him.

Things are quiet for a while. And then Andy settles on the bed next to you before pulling you flush against him. The two of you are so close that you're practically half sprawled on his big lap, your bottom resting atop his thickly muscled thighs.

"Then please allow me to rephrase. It's not just my job to take care of you, it's my privilege, baby girl."

A sniffle escapes you before you can catch it.

"You're a strong woman. Strong enough to reach out when you need me. The same way it takes a strong man to lean on his woman. Understand?"

You nod, closing your eyes as you do.

"Look at me and say the words, Y/N." Your Big Man implores you before kissing the top of your head and burying his face in your curls. "I need to hear 'em, please."

It takes you a couple of seconds, but eventually you muster up enough courage to do as he asks.

"Yes, I - I understand. It takes a strong woman to, um, to lean on her man."

"Good girl."

"And please believe me when I say that your trusting me with your problems doesn't make you a burden. Not now, not ever. We're partners, baby."

For now and forever. Andy thinks to himself. It's clear as day to me, I just need her to see it too.

"Yes, we are, my sweet Andy Bear. I'm sorry for being such a neurotic mess sometimes. I know you must think you're dating a lunatic but -"

"Yep, I am." He sweetly interrupts. "But you've also claimed a crazy, possessive bastard as your man. So, I'd say we're pretty even." You feel another brush of his lips against your skin, this time on your temple.

The two of you sit there for a while in silence, simply enjoying each other's warmth. Truthfully, it wasn't that cold in your apartment, but according to the forecast, that would change over night. You needed to be some place with working heat and a comfortable bed.

And your Andy Bear came with all of that, complete with sheets and pillows that smelled just like him. Of course you'd find a way to pay him back. Maybe you'd cook him a big dinner, or buy him season tickets to the Patriots, or --

Your thought stream is interrupted by the sound of Andy's gruff voice.

"I think we need to do something to quiet that beautiful mind of yours, don't we?" He purrs, before lavishing the column of your throat with a hot, open-mouthed kiss.

And then you feel one large, slightly calloused hand go to rest on your chest. Using just a fraction of his strength, he gently forces you onto your back. A shiver courses through you as he runs his palms down the length of your body in an act of raw, unbridled possession.

Lifting your ass, you allow him to remove your black leggings. He makes sure to take his time, dragging the thin material across your heated skin with agonizing slowness.

A breathy moan escapes your lips when he parts your thighs, baring your panty-covered pussy to his predatory gaze.

"I'd like to rephrase my earlier statement one more time if I could."

Without warning, Andy leans in and buries his face between your legs. He takes a moment to inhale your scent before nuzzling your swollen clit through the damp fabric.

"Oh-oh-kaaay." You whimper as he briefly sucks the sensitive bud into his warm, waiting mouth. "

"It's my job, my pleasure, and my privilege to keep my lady's sweet body warm and her greedy cunt stuffed full. And I'm a man who believes in honoring his fucking commitments."

You cry out when he rips the lace from your body, leaving you naked and vulnerable from the waist down.

"This is mine, baby. All mine. Now, lie back like a good girl and let me show you just how much I enjoy caring for my woman, starting with eating the fuck out of her pretty little pussy."

END

[whosaskingwrites]

See You Again (Tendou x Reader)

A/N: This was supposed to be uploaded awhile ago but first I got stuck on how to write it and then we I figured it out halfway through writing it the entire thing got deleted. So I prolonged rewriting it from scratch. So many other things went wrong while writing this too. But I got it done so here is the final product.

WARNINGS: Angst. One mention of abortion nothing to explicit.

Date: Thursday October 29th, 2020

Details: 7.1 pages 2,530 words

Theme: Stranger- when you get heartbroken you have the option of forgetting the person who caused the heart break as long as you say the word stranger with enough conviction while thinking about the person you want to forget.

Angst Masterlist

He was tired.

Visiting his old team had taken a lot out of him. It was weird not seeing you among the group. He missed your e/c eyes and how they always lit up when you saw him. How every time without fail you always hugged him and said hello reminding him silently that he wasn’t alone. How could he not fall in love? Soon enough word got out Y/n L/n and Satori Tendou the famous Guess Couple of Shiratorizawa Academy. While he was known for his guessing ability on the court you were know for your guessing ability in pretty much anything else.

You always knew just by looking how someone felt and knew what was wrong. You could watch the boys train and no matter what new tricks they tried you always knew what they were going to do. Hell you even knew Karasuno's every play as they made it despite all of this neither of you could guess what happened toward the end of the school year.

He thought about it a lot that moment he destroyed his own paradise watching tears well up in your eyes and roll down your face. He always remembered how Semi looked at him when you went to him for comfort telling him what happened. Semi still looked at him that way even though it’d been fifteen years since then.

“Excuse me sir…You look sad what happened?” He turned looking at the girl next to him. She was clearly a high school student a white blouse tucked into a black skirt. She wore black leggings and a simple pair of white shoes a grey jacket and a blue striped bow-tie. His eyes spotted the gym bag a pair of volleyball shoes dangled out very obviously well worn and he noted that the gym bag had Fukurodani labeled on the side.

��I let her go,” It was then he looked at the girl and he froze the high schooler in front of him looked like you s/c skin and slightly full cheeks, a nose that was curved just right l/c lips and big beautiful eyes. But what caused him to freeze was not the fact that the girl looked like you but she looked exactly like him as well.

From her long arms and tape wrapped around her fingers. To her wide slightly crooked smile the resemblance strongest in the girls dark red eyes and in her h/c hair that had fiery streaks of red running through it. It was then he realized that the girl in front of him was studying him much like he studied people during a match. She sat down next to him “Who'd you let go?” she hummed and god did it hurt him seeing the girl next to him.

Just as kind-hearted as her mother and insatiably curious like her father. She looked at him he hummed debating on how to answer the girl. “My paradise,” he finally settled on turning to stare off in the distance. “Paradise huh? Can you tell me about her?” She was attentive and didn’t push things like her mother. She was waiting for him to talk he sighed before opening his mouth.

“Well it started when we were high school first years…,”

He sat in class bored out of his mind. He watched the teacher easily predicting what they would do next as he kept up his mindless tapping against the desk. He wasn’t the only one bored of course but he was the only one crazy enough to do something about it. However, before he could open his mouth the door was thrown open.

A girl stood there panting heavily she had on the girls uniform black stockings and shoes a plaid purple skirt with a light purple blouse tucked into it. The white jacket over top and her purple bow tie. The girl jolted up looking at the teacher “I’m so sorry I’m late!” She pulled a pass out of her bag handing it to the teacher while he observed the girl. Now that he got a good look at her face, he saw she had slightly full cheeks, a nose curved just right, big beautiful e/c eyes with s/c skin and h/c hair held back by a distinct owl pin.

“Ah! So you’re the transfer student eh?” The teacher said while the girl blushed “um yes sir,” she said. “Well introduce yourself then!” The girl turned bowing to the class “Hello I’m the new transfer from Fukurodani Academy L/n F/n! I hope we can all be friends!” She looked up smiling while Tendou looked away. A new transfer huh?

“Eh!?” He was startled from the story turning to look at the girl on the bench. Her eyes were wide in wonder “You…you knew my mom!” She shouted in excitement and that confirmed all he needed to know. The girl in front of him was infectious in her excitement and he smiled “I did,” Perhaps in her excitement the girl had forgotten what this story was about so he decided to let her find out.

“Good morning Tendou-san!” Everyday like clockwork y/n's voice hit his ears as soon as he walked in. She always greeted him and for the life of him he couldn’t guess why when it came to her he couldn’t read her and guess her actions he just didn’t know. He decided it annoyed him enough “Why do you always greet me?” He asked suddenly placing his stuff down. Before placing his hands on the girls desk. She hummed as she looked at him “Am I not supposed to?” she questioned and he was confused “No one talks to me so why do you?” He narrowed his eyes at her and suddenly she giggled. It was light and carried across the room seeming to light up everyone who heard it.

“Because I want to be your friend Tendou-san!” he blinked. “Friend?” he repeated the word like it was a foreign concept to him. “Yeah friend! So, what do you say wanna be friends?” She held out her hand with a cheeky smile that he reciprocated “Sure. I hope you know what you’re signing up for,” He took her hand it was small in his own and he couldn’t help but notice that they fit almost like puzzle pieces.

“You were her friend? Mom never really talks about high school with me,” She sighed. “Said she’d forgotten most of it,” the girl clicked her tongue a habit formed from annoyance and one she’d picked up from her mother. “I believe her…whenever I ask, she always looks confused so most of what I know comes from Uncle SemiSemi,” He smirked at the nickname she really was his daughter through in through.

“You play volleyball?” He asked motioning to her bag. The girl brightened up “Mhm! I’m a Middle Blocker though my team gets upset when I guess block...It’s not my fault though! It’s instinct and I block the ball so I don’t see what the problem is,” A soft smile etched its way across his face when he'd heard that she guess blocked and was a Middle Blocker. “Why do you tape your fingers?” He asked and the girl hummed “I dunno mom tapes them. She said it’s because it reduces the risk of injury,” She raised her pointer finger scratching her nose slightly.

Then he noticed the necklace she wore it was a small eagle with a red gem clutched between its talons and he remembered that necklace. It was the one he confessed with during their second year.

“Y/n!” He shouted towards the girl. She spun around h/c hair fluttering around her as her eyes met Tendou's. “Yeah Satori?” She questioned as Semi left the conversation he returned to cleaning the gym while Tendou grabbed the team manager and pulled her outside. “Hey Satori what’s going on!” He let her go when they reached outside and he faced her.

He pulled out a black box while watching the girl she had a look of confusion it was something the two guessers learned early on. They couldn’t read each other but it never bothered them and made their days more exciting. “I wanted to ask you if you’d um…go out with me?” he questioned opening the box. Her eyes widened at the little eagle pendant and her finger brushed against the red gem in its claws. She smiled softly at it while Tendou waited for a response.

“Satori the gem it’s the same color as your eyes you know?” She stated looking up at him he blinked in confusion. She turned around lifting her hair up to show access to her neck “Can you help put it on?” He let out a sigh of relief and knew what she was implying.

He passed the cold metal across her neck and let his fingers lightly skim across the exposed skin. She shivered lightly at the touch and sighed as she let go of her hair. Letting it fall back to its normal length she turned wrapping her arms around his torso. “I would love to go out with you,” she whispered into his chest and suddenly a weight was lifted from his shoulders.

“That’s a pretty necklace,” He stated “Thanks…it was a present from my mom to celebrate me getting into Fukurodani Academy!” The girl chirped with a bright smile. “…What has your mom told you about high school?” She frowned and shook her head “Uncle SemiSemi told me mom doesn’t remember…because she used her stranger and since they were in most of her memories she’s forgotten a lot of high school,” His eyes widened never had he considered she used her stranger on him.

She forgot him on purpose after what happened he supposed he wouldn’t blame her. He almost used it himself in France but he always knew deep down he’d come back for her. He loved her after all but it seemed she didn’t believe the same thing but how could he have blamed her? He remembered that day well it was forever etched in his mind as the worst day of his life.

“Satori!” her sudden shout made him stop his rant about France and the wonderful time they’d have. He looked at her but she was already watching him her eyes showed she was afraid. The air smelled like rain and fresh cut grass as she stared at him. “I…I can’t go to France Satori,” she whispered and his smile fell “Why not?” he asked as she looked down.

“Satori…I’m pregnant,” she whispered it so quietly that he’d almost missed it. “I can’t go to France because we wouldn’t be able to support three people,”

Though that day may have been the worst because they argued he had been so angry that he doesn’t even remember the argument but he knows it was stupid. He knew from the moment he walked back into her dorm after the fight.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” He paused in the door way his eyes meeting the cold ones of Semi Eita. “Semisem-,” “After what you did don’t call me that,” he paused mouth still open letting the words process before he formulated his own response. “She told you?” he sighed out. “Yeah she did. Telling her to get rid of the child so you could go to France together? What the hell is wrong with you?” He didn’t have a response he knew how bad that sounded.

Especially when someone else was saying it to him and suddenly the reaction of you immediately crying made since as he grimaced. “Well?” Semi stated arms crossed over his chest. That’s when he saw you laying down on the chair behind Semi blanket covering you and the little eagle plushie that Goshiki had bought you held tight in your hands.

“Please Semi I just need-" He tried appeasing the other male but Semi didn’t back down “You need to get your shit and get out. I'm not letting you be here when she wakes up even if I have to throw you out,” Semi snarled and he had a brief moment that Semi almost seemed like a dog protecting its owner from a home intruder. He knew he wasn’t going to win this and just sighed “I’m leaving for France tomorrow…Can you tell her for me?” Semi's eyes narrowed but he nodded and with that Tendou left the dorm hearing it lock behind him.

She never showed up that day and vaguely he wondered if she’d already forgotten him by then. “Hey mister um…,” He looked to the side the girl next to him was nervously playing with her fingers a habit he wasn’t quite sure where she’d acquired it though. You certainly never played with your hands when you were nervous and neither did he.

“What is it?” He asked softly and the girl looked at him again big red eyes wide in curiosity. “You…You know a lot about my mom don’t you?” He hesitated before nodding. “Then…Do you know my dad?” He flinched at the girls question “You don’t know who your dad is?” he guessed he shouldn’t have been surprised the team probably all knew you used your stranger and didn’t want to dig up unwanted memories.

“Well…Uncle Ushijima told me his name but they wouldn’t tell me anymore than that and made it clear that mom shouldn’t know,” he hummed and supposed that it was okay to tell her. “Tendou Satori,” He said simply and the girl gave him a confused stare. “Yeah I kno-,” “My name is Tendou Satori,” he said again and he watched the girls eyes widen “You’re my dad?” she asked. He could only provide a nod “What…happened between you and mom?” He sighed as he looked at her.

“I said some pretty messed up things the day she told me she was pregnant. In fact not a day goes by that I don’t regret saying those things to her…or trying harder to get past Semi and talk to her. I was an idiot and now she forgot me,” He looked off in the night the street light behind them blinked a few times every now and then the buzz filling the silence left behind.

“You know…Maybe you could try again?” the girl asked and he whipped his head towards her “What?” he voiced. “You could try and win her back again since she doesn’t remember you,” A car pulled up and he saw her stand up “Maybe I will,” he stated sending her a small smile. “Good but you better not hurt mom again!” he laughed then “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he saw Goshiki get out of the car to open the passenger door. He didn’t say anything to Tendou but Tendou saw the hopeful look in Goshiki's eyes and knew that the younger male was on his side.

“Before you go…what’s your name?” the girl turned to face him one last time and smiled. “Nara L/n,” Tendou smiled as the car left before he chuckled.

“Paradise huh?”

————————————————————————

Nara- means extraordinary blossom from paradise

TAGLIST- @wonhomarshmallow

[atths--twice]

So... when I wrote these stories a couple of years ago, I kept the pregnancy stories in real time, updating it every month. As that’s not necessary, I hope you’re enjoying this... elapsed time frame of pregnancy, : )  Here we go...

The Seventh Month 3/6

Mulder and Scully spend the day shopping for baby items, facing and dealing with past guilt, and coming to resolutions.

August 2018

Scully sat in the bath, her head back, and her eyes closed. She let the scent of jasmine permeate her senses as she relaxed in the water, Mulder humming and singing in the shower as she did.

Mulder had treated her to breakfast in bed after treating her to wonderful morning sex. He was extremely careful and concerned about their lovemaking recently, following the doctor’s orders at the last checkup. He took his time and always made sure she was okay. She loved him more in those moments than any other, when his focus was solely on her care, and then her pleasure.

She sighed and then lightly moaned. Even with the ease they were taking, her body would be a little sore after. Having a growing baby pressing.. everywhere, would do that to a person. He had drawn her the bath after she expressed some aching.

He had looked at her with concern, opened his mouth to say what she was sure would be something she did not want to hear, so she had silenced him with a kiss. A kiss that left him panting, as he had looked at her with desire in his eyes. She had raised an eyebrow and he huffed out a growl, but nodded his acceptance.

He had surprised her with jasmine bubble bath and by the look on his face as he took off her robe, she knew what he was thinking about. A night long ago when he stood nervously in his bedroom, jasmine scented candles filling the room, waiting to see her reaction. The love they expressed in words and then with their bodies that night, would forever remain locked in that scent.

“So I was thinking we should go get some baby stuff today,” Mulder called out over the sound of the shower, breaking into her thoughts. “Maybe hit up Ikea or a baby store. Didn’t you say the girls at the hospital were throwing you a baby shower? We should make one of those registry list things for what we’ll need.”

“You want to do that today? On a Saturday? It’s going to be pretty packed,” she said, eyes still closed, raising her voice to be heard over the shower.

“Eh, we’ll be okay. We need to get the stuff sorted before the time gets too close. We could get some lunch, then pick out paint colors for the bedroom?” he said, his words muffled at times as he washed.

“My my, aren’t you the busy little bee?” she teased him. “How about we flip the plan and pick out colors first? Then we can see which color crib and whatever we get looks best." She ran her hands along her stomach, smiling as she felt the baby moving, apparently happy with that plan.

The water turned off and the shower door opened. Mulder stepped out, grinned at her, and grabbed a towel. He dried himself off, then wrapped the towel around his waist, as he put in his hair product and ran his fingers through it. She watched him clean the steam off the mirror and look at himself as he stroked his face.

“You gonna shave?” she asked, knowing he was debating it.

He turned to her and met her eyes. “You don’t like the scruff? I think it gives me the rugged look,” he said as he stroked his face, smiling at her.

“Hmmm ...” she said, swirling her fingers around the bath water. “True. But ... it’s scratchy sometimes in ... places.” She gave him a look and watched his eyes widen as he swallowed.

“Didn’t hear you complaining earlier,” he said leaning against the sink, acting a little too casual. She knew he was trying to appear as if her words did not affect him.

“Well ...” she said, holding his gaze as she raised an eyebrow. “Earlier your face wasn’t where the scratchiness causes a ... problem.”

He exhaled and stared back. She saw him swallow again and then he cleared his throat, as he turned and reached for the shaving cream and razor. She chuckled, and he met her eyes in the mirror, as he put the shaving cream on his face. She stared him down, his eyes creating a liquid fire in her veins. God, there was a possible chance they might not make it out of the house today.

He finished shaving and walked over to her. Helping her out of the tub, he let the water out and then dried her off, kissing places he met along the way. He pulled her toward him, as he knelt in front of her and kissed her hips, her inner thighs. He rubbed his smooth face across her skin, causing a breathy laugh, then a gasp as he moved closer to his goal.

She tugged gently on his hair, and he took the hint, rising to his feet and leading her to the bed. He helped her lie down and then settled back down to business. He kissed her center, his tongue sliding in and tasting her. She gripped the sheets and opened her legs wider, silently asking him to love her with his mouth. She started panting and felt her orgasm approaching. He continued using his mouth and then slid two fingers in and out, driving her over the edge. She breathed his name over and over, holding onto the sheets for dear life. Her heart racing as he joined her on the bed.

He made love to her again, slowly, both of them breaking together, calling out each other’s names. She was pleasantly surprised at his ability to be ready so soon again after their morning romp. She expressed so to him as he lay next to her, still joined, her fingers in his hair as he lay with his head at her throat. He laughed and raised his head to kiss her, tasting herself on his tongue as she moaned into his mouth. He pulled back, his eyes mirroring the desire she felt.

“You taste so delicious, Scully. Your scent, your eyes, and Jesus, your words. I don’t have a need for any little pills when I’ve got a gorgeous redhead telling me that if I shave, I’m guaranteed to spend some time in my most favorite place.” He whispered before kissing her again, his tongue sending jolts of desire to her core.

She laughed as she pulled back, stroking his smooth face. She kissed him again and began to untangle herself from him. They did need to get out and get items for the baby. They had nothing planned and only two months to go. As much as she would love to spend the day in bed with him, they needed to go. He had to help her up and they both laughed at how the simplest task was made harder with a big pregnant belly in the way.

A short time later, she was smiling as the wind blew through the windows, and they headed down the road. She had her eyes closed, letting the wind cool her down and bring her a sense of calm.

“So, where to first boss?” he asked, as he reached for her hand and held it loosely in his own, turning to her with a grin.

She turned her head toward him, opening her eyes. “Hardware store for paint samples and possibly ordering the paint to be picked up later. Then the baby store, then ... Ikea. It’s going to be busy regardless of time, so let’s save it for last,” she said, squeezing his hand. He smiled at her and nodded.

“Then ... Mulder, if it’s not too late, I’d like to stop by Melissa’s grave,” she said quietly. “Having the stuff from my mom’s place at the house, has had me thinking about her and Melissa. I wish mom knew her last words had not been said in vain and we found William. I wish she knew about this baby and she and Melissa were the ones planning the baby shower, not the women at work ...” She trailed off and sighed.

He looked at her and squeezed her hand. “First. We’ll go there first, Scully. It shouldn’t be an afterthought or if we have time. We’ll go there first, okay?” She nodded and wiped her eyes with her other hand. She closed her eyes again, holding his hand tightly, and took a deep breath.

They stopped at a florist shop on the way to the cemetery where they picked out white roses and yellow daisies, flowers Melissa had always loved. Mulder paid for them and asked that they be wrapped together.

Pulling up close to Melissa’s grave, Mulder turned off the car. He got and opened her door for her, helping her out and handing her the flowers.

“Take all the time you need, okay? If you need me, I’m here,” he said softly, as he stroked her cheek. She nodded and touched his hand, before turning and walking over to the grave. He knew. Without her saying anything, he knew she wanted to be alone and take some time.

She laid the flowers down and stood looking at the headstone, as the usual guilt rose to the surface. If she had just waited, she would have been home and armed. No one would have gotten in and Melissa would still be alive. Melissa had not deserved to die for this quest that Scully willingly participated in, but had never wanted or expected to reach those she loved.

Talking out loud to her sister seemed odd and like something people only really did in movies. She thought about what she wanted to say instead. The apologies she made every time she was here, which was not enough, and the things that had transpired recently. Mulder, William, this new baby. How she wished she could share it all with her. To hear Melissa’s take on the connection she and William shared. She laughed and then choked on a sob, putting her face in her hands at the same time she felt a hand on her back.

Mulder. She had not even heard his approach, but there he was, right when she needed him. He rubbed her back and she turned into his chest, wrapping her arms around him. He held her as she cried, saying nothing, simply offering his strength.

They stood there holding each other, as her tears subsided. She pulled away, but kept her arm around his waist. A few minutes passed and then she squeezed his side, nodding as she pulled back and turned around. When he did not follow, she turned back.

She watched as Mulder placed a hand softly on Melissa’s headstone. He murmured something she did not hear, then stepped back and walked toward her. He reached for her hand and they walked back to the car.

She was quiet for a bit as they headed toward the hardware store, many thoughts still swirling around, and her guilt still weighing heavy upon her. She needed to let it go, to find that point where she finally could. It would not be today, but she would keep trying. She breathed deeply, gave a little shake, and then gave him a small smile. It was the best she could do.

When they arrived in the paint section of the hardware store, they had quite a debate over which colors they wanted. Neither of them wanted pink or purple, even if they knew for sure it was a girl. Scully was not a “pink kind of girl," she explained as they looked at the samples. He looked at her pointedly, as if he did not know everything about her.

Finally, after much back and forth, they picked a light slate blue for every wall but one, which would be beige. The sand and the sea, Mulder said and Scully smiled. Without really intending to, they had settled on colors that had connections to their childhoods. Scully growing up near the ocean, him near lakes and the ocean.

They ordered the paint, picked out all the supplies and arranged to pick it up on the way home. The man working at the counter was incredibly kind and told them he and his wife owned the store. He said if they had other purchases to make, they could pick up the items when it was best for them. They thanked him kindly and headed back to the car.

Scully took out her phone as they buckled in, to get directions to the baby store .

“Baby Mine?” Mulder asked, as he looked at her screen. “Seriously?”

She looked up at him as she programmed the address in and hooked the phone up to the holder. “And what’s wrong with that store? They have really nice stuff. I was looking at the website the other day. There is a really cute crib I want to check out,” she said, as he backed up the car and began to drive.

“The name though,” he said, waiting for the light to change to get on the highway. “That has to be the worst name for a baby store, ever.” He shook his head and proceeded as the light changed.

“What in the hell are you talking about?” she asked him, completely confused.

“Dumbo, Scully. Didn’t you ever see that movie as a kid? People always say how Bambi is so sad, and it is ... Jesus, but Dumbo ...” he said shaking his head slowly.

He glanced at her and saw her perplexed look. He sighed. “In the circus, the people were allowed to come up and see the animals. Some asshole kid was making fun of Dumbo’s big ears, of which that kid had some himself, and then he was teasing and poking at Dumbo. His mother protected him. She spanked that kid with her trunk, and that little fucker deserved it, but they locked her up because she went after him. They put her in chains, away from her baby,” he was almost shouting as she tried to remember the movie.

“So, he’s all alone before he finds that mouse. He takes Dumbo to visit her in her train car jail and she put her trunk out to find him and he reached his up to find her." He stopped talking, shaking his head and breathing deep.

“He was so happy to see her, to feel her, he hugged her trunk and she slid hers down. She rocked him in her trunk and that “Baby Mine” song played and Jesus Christ ... it made me sob like a goddamn baby,” he said, his voice breaking.

She looked at him and felt tears in her eyes. She could not remember that movie that clearly, but of course he would. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly, his knuckles were white. He shook his head again.

“My mom almost had to take us out of the theater because Samantha and I were crying so hard,” he said, his voice quieter now. “The movie was rereleased when I was eleven and Samantha was eight. My mom took us as a special treat and had no idea we would react that way. She held Samantha on her lap, but I was too big and should have been past such emotional outbursts.”

Scully scoffed and looked at him with disapproval. “Because you were eleven? You shouldn’t have emotions anymore? That’s ridiculous. You were still a kid.”

“Scully, it was the 70’s and it was my family. My father especially. “Have to be a man” and all that bullshit,” he said by way of explanation. “My mother never told him how I reacted. She kept it between us. She and I were closer for about a week after that, before I moved on to other things. I was up late one night, years ago, and that movie was on some channel. It got to that part and I cried like a baby again." He shook his head and laughed as he glanced at her.

She smiled back, put a hand on his leg, and squeezed. He took a hand off the steering wheel and held onto hers. He squeezed it and she squeezed back. He shook his head again and she stared at him with a smile. His passion and emotional expression, was and had always been, something she dearly loved.

The store approached and they turned into the parking lot. It was a large store with cute window displays. Scully unbuckled her seat belt and started to gather her things, when she heard Mulder sigh. She looked at him and saw he was looking at the store sign.

“An elephant, Scully. The sign has an elephant on it." He stared at her, but she could see he was beginning to smile.

She smiled and kissed him, then stepped out the door. He met her at the front of the car, looked at the sign again and shook his head. He opened the door for her and walked in behind her.

They spent the next couple hours looking at cribs, strollers, clothes, sheets, toys, car seats, and books. Scully watched Mulder’s eyes widen as the sales assistant kept suggesting items. He asked about a registry and happily took the scanner gun and went off adding things to it.

Scully found the crib she was looking for, in a beautiful dark chocolate color. She asked them about it, before adding it to their purchases. She sat in one of the glider chairs for a while “testing it out” before deciding on which one to buy. The motion began to make her sleepy, when Mulder came up to her, holding an outfit with spaceships and aliens on it. He grinned at her and she smiled back. He helped her up and they continued their shopping.

By the time they had filled a registry, picked out the bigger items, loaded up the car with their purchases, and arranged for delivery of certain items, Scully was ready to get some lunch.

They found an Italian restaurant nearby and ordered their meal. Scully ate all of hers and half of Mulder’s before he laughed and ordered an extra plate of pasta. If she did not have a hungry baby growing inside her, she would have been embarrassed to eat as much as she did. As it was, she simply laughed and grabbed the last piece of bread.

She watched Mulder swirl the pasta on his fork then messily shove it in his mouth. She reached over and wiped his mouth. He winked at her, his eyes burning a fire in her, as she remembered a barbecue place where she experienced very unpartnerlike feelings for him. She smiled as she shook her head and he tilted his head to the side, silently asking her what what she she was thinking about.

“You know, Mulder,” she said with a mischievous smile. “All the things that we bought today- the crib, the bassinet, the changing table, the stroller, and then whatever else we buy, you have to put together.”

He blinked at her and swallowed his bite. “What exactly are you implying, Scully?” he asked with a smile of his own. She raised her eyebrows and stared at him.

“I put the bookcase in the living room together, if you recall,” he said to her, as if that proved his point.

“Oh, I recall,” she said, reaching for her water and giving him a look.

He stared at her. “The books only fell off one time, Scully.” She nodded her head, twirling her straw around her drink, staring in the cup, then looked up at him. They had a stare down as she let him realize what he just said. He finally sighed, nodded, and took another bite.

“I’ll call Skinner. You know he’s got a toolbox full of tools he never really gets to use,” he said, his mouth full.

She snorted and nodded. “I’m sure he will be more than happy to help once he hears about the bookcase.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he said staring at her, his fork frozen on the way to his plate.

“Tell him one of the reasons we have books on the stairs and on so many surfaces is because you are not exactly a “handy” handyman? That bookcases and other things that need to be put together are not exactly your forte? No.. I’d never dream of it,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

He narrowed his eyes at her and she started laughing. He shook his head and began to ready another bite.

“It’s okay, Mulder. You don’t have to be good at everything. The things you are good at, make up for the ones you are not. More than make up for it,” she said with a look.

He paused with the fork in midair and stared at her. She watched his eyes realize what she said and how it made him react. He swallowed, shook his head, and shoved his bite in his mouth. She could not understand the words he said as he mumbled around his bite. She laughed and took another drink.

They left the restaurant a little while later, full of delicious food, and laughing as they discussed whether it was truly necessary to go to Ikea. They ticked off the items they had and what else was needed. A dresser, maybe a rug, shelves, or a bookcase. The car was kind of full, but they could move some stuff around.

They pulled into the parking lot and they looked at each other as if wishing the other safe travels on their journey. Seeing how crowded the parking lot was did not bode well for the hope of a small amount of people on the inside.

Scully grabbed a cart and they went up in the elevator to begin meandering through the store. They passed through the living room and kitchen sections. Scully walked through the little “apartments” they had set up to show the use of minimal space. She always found them interesting and somewhat cozy feeling. All the stuff that was needed in one small area. It made a person really think about what was truly important.

She glanced at Mulder as she looked around one of the rooms. She thought about how they had lived when they were on the run. The clothes on their backs, minimal extras, just each other. She had learned then what was truly important. The man she loved at her side was all she needed to make her feel complete. Everything else, that was an afterthought and so minuscule to what was truly needed in life.

Mulder was watching a mother and her children looking at things by him. He was smiling at the kids and said something to the mother that made her smile and then they both laughed. She walked away and Scully walked up to him. He was watching the mother and smiled at Scully as his head turned back toward her.

She reached up and kissed him, surprising him for a second, before he put his hands lightly on her hips and kissed her back.

“What was that for?” he asked, placing his forehead against hers.

“I love you,” she whispered to him, her hands lightly holding his upper arms.

He pulled back and smiled at her. “I’m sorry ma’am, but I’m taken. Have you seen a gorgeous, pregnant, redhead walking around here? She gets awful angry when I kiss random strangers.” She laughed and put her head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, his laughter mixing with hers as they held to each other, the other shoppers rushing past.

He rubbed her back and still chuckled. He put his mouth by her ear. “The feeling is mutual Ms. Scully. So much more than mutual,” he breathed, giving her the chills. She pulled away from him, patting his chest as she stepped back with a smile. Grabbing the cart, she started walking again.

They picked out a bookcase and a dresser, both in dark brown, then moved onto the children’s section. It was packed, but they navigated it easily. Since they had already purchased many items, they had an idea of what they needed.

Mulder put almost every stuffed animal in their cart, but not the elephant she noticed, then started to walk away. Scully grabbed his arm and brought him back. She looked at the animals and then at him.

“Yes, Scully, all of them." He smacked a loud kiss on her and walked away.

She shook her head and kept walking around. She checked out the curtains and the rugs, picking a gray rug with stars that she knew Mulder would enjoy. She did not find any curtains she liked, so she went to find Mulder.

She found him with his arms full of toys, checking out the others on the shelves. He saw her and sighed with relief. “There you are,” he said as he set the stuff down in the cart. “What do think about these?”

She looked at all the things he added to the cart and she shook her head. “Mulder, no. We don’t need all these toys. The baby won’t even be playing with anything really, for six months, at least. Wooden trains, kitchen toys, wooden figures. Mulder, we don’t need these right now,” she said, putting them back on the shelf.

“Scully!” he said, trying to stop her.

“Mulder, the baby doesn’t need all these toys, and they will just clutter up the house for now." She tapped his chest, forcing him to raise his sad eyes to hers. “We’ll come back, okay?” He nodded his head, his lip sticking out a bit in a pout.

“Good. I’m glad we could easily reach that compromise." She put all the toys back, except the stuffed animals, shaking her head. As she walked past him she said under her breath, “What a baby.”

“I heard that,” he said, grabbing the cart from her and bumping her shoulder. He stared at her and then smiled.

They took the elevator back down and walked through the remaining rooms, grabbing a couple of lights for the room and heading to the warehouse. They traded their cart for a flat one, adding the items they were looking for to their other items, and headed for the checkout lines.

The lines were at least eight people deep. Mulder grinned at her and walked away. She rolled her eyes and leaned against the cart. Her back was aching a little and her feet were tired.

She moved up a couple spots in line when Mulder walked back with two ice cream cones and a bag of bulk candy under his arm. He smiled as he handed her hers and set the candy in the cart. She smiled her thanks as she ate her ice cream and eyed the bag of candy.

“It’s all chocolate, in case you were wondering what I picked,” he said, as he licked the side of his cone.

“Good man,” she answered him. He chuckled and they ate their cones as they waited in line.

Once they had paid, repacked the car so everything fit, with Mulder lifting his arms and proclaiming, “Tetris!” while she laughed, they were on their way home.

They pulled up to the house and Scully grabbed a few bags and went in to start some dinner. Mulder unloaded the car and set all the stuff in a corner of the living room. He had said there was no need to put it all upstairs until the room was painted and he would be doing that soon.

After they ate their meal, they took stock of the big items they had purchased: a crib, bassinet, changing table, stroller, dresser, bookcase, some lights, and a rug. They also had some smaller items: the stuffed animals, the spaceships outfit and some others, crib sheets, and a couple lightweight blankets.

The crib mattress and glider chair would be delivered in a couple of weeks since they were in no immediate hurry, and had painting to do first. Car seats and other items would be ordered online after they searched for the ones they wanted. The registry was full of items they could use that were not too overwhelming in price. Mostly clothes, storage items, pacifiers, little toys, bottles, nursing pillows, more blankets, and bath items.

Scully shook her head at the amount of stuff in the house and still what was needed. God, a baby needed a lot of shit for something so small. Mulder suggested they go upstairs and look in the other room to get an idea of how they wanted it to be arranged.

There was stuff stored in there that they would need to go through, but not too much, thankfully. They looked around and discussed which wall to paint which color, where the placement of items would be best, and laughed about how insane it was they were having this discussion. Planning for a baby was never something they had thought of, nor expected, yet there they were.

Mulder went downstairs to straighten up and lock up the house as Scully used the bathroom and changed for bed. She got under the covers and sighed as she put her head on her pillow. It had been a long day. A long “normal” day and god knew they needed those kinds of days. She was tired, but happy, with all they had accomplished. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Mulder came barging in the room in his usual Mulder way- like a puppy whose legs were too big for its body. He hummed as he changed and used the bathroom. He slid under the sheets and cuddled up behind her, pulling her close. He kissed her temple and laid his head on his pillow.

They were quiet for a few minutes. Then Scully spoke, asking a question that had been on her mind all day.

“Mulder?” she asked, seeing if he was awake.

“Hmmm?” Came his sleepy reply.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but ... I was just curious what you said at Melissa’s grave today,” she said quietly.

He pulled her tighter and took a breath, nuzzling her neck. “I told her I was sorry,” he said quietly into her hair. “Then I thanked her.” Scully’s heart pounded and her breath caught. She started to ask what he meant when he spoke again.

“I thanked her, Scully, because ... you were the target. Someone was sent to kill you. Use you as a pawn again and take care of loose ends. They thought I was dead, and needed you gone too. If I had come back and found you ...” He gripped her as tight as he could with the baby blocking him. “I didn’t want her to die. I would have protected her if I could, but I, we, weren’t there. But if I had lost you, Scully, I would have lost everything. Even then, you were the only thing I gave a damn about. You, your safety, you, Scully. I never wanted anyone to get hurt, but if I had lost you ...” He took a shuddering breath, as tears fell from her eyes. She gripped the hand he had around her belly.

“I thanked her, Scully, because as perverse as it sounds, and I’m sorry that it does, I’m thankful it wasn’t your grave I visited today,” he whispered, as she cried.

She turned over and held his face in her hands. She cried, putting her forehead against his, and tried to catch her breath. She felt a weight, that had been sitting on her, begin to dissolve. He said what she was so afraid to say. So terrified to voice her relief without sounding as if she was okay her sister had died, had been killed in her place. She had to reassure him, to tell him he was not alone.

“Mulder,” she whispered, her voice still shaking. “For so long, the guilt of that night has weighed on me- if I had only been there, if I had waited for her instead of leaving, so many if’s. The worst guilt was that I lived and she died." She stopped and took some sobbing breaths. “I thought of how it would have been if it had been me who was killed. You alone, on your own, the guilt you would have felt..” she gasped out a cry.

“Alone I could handle, Scully. Alone without you ... was a future I could not foresee. It’s ... it’s not a future I ever want again,” he whispered to her.

She took big breaths, her eyes closed. “I have felt guilty relief that it wasn’t me who died, for years. I don’t visit her often enough because of that guilt, but I know I can’t do that anymore. I need to let that go. She would tell me the same thing. Call me foolish and silly for holding this like a poison inside me. That everything happens for a reason and it was how it was supposed to be. So many things, Mulder. So many things have happened, I have to believe she would be right. I need to.” She lifted her head and looked in his eyes.

He had tears in them and she wiped them away. They stared at each other, both feeling that guilt and that messed up form of relief. She pulled him close and held him with his head in her neck. They held each other, as Mulder whispered his love and comfort to her.

She thought of Melissa and how she would look at her, knowing she had held her guilt for so long. How it had blocked her from her grief and kept her from expressing it. The guilt she felt sitting in her like a clogged drain, allowing only so much through, but leaving the core problem behind. She knew Melissa would not want that for her.

She took a deep breath and whispered to Mulder she wanted to do it together, to let that guilt free. He breathed into her neck and she took a breath. Together, they let that guilt release from their lives, letting the two people affected most by her death, breathe easier than they had in years.

Scully stayed holding him for awhile. The silence in the room bringing a peaceful feeling into her heart. Mulder pulled back from her, lying back on his pillow, bringing her with him. She lay her head on his shoulder, his arm around her, her hand gripping his shirt.

“As much as it hurts and makes us feel like shit, it’s good we’re doing this, Scully,” he said quietly, squeezing her arm and kissing her head. She lightly chuckled, a sob punctuating her feelings. “I’m serious. This breaking us down, will help us move forward. I don’t want to hide our feelings from each other anymore. Jesus, Scully, that has not led us anywhere good and I don’t want that to happen again. Never again, Scully.”

She nodded against his shoulder. He was right. No more hiding how they felt or what they thought. This was their second chance. Fuck that, it was more like the millionth chance to get their shit together.

She wrapped her arm around him and took a deep breath. “No more hiding, Mulder. Reason and faith in harmony is hard to achieve if the harmony is off key. We’ll just need to keep fine tuning this old song until it’s perfect,” she said, sleep beginning to take over.

“I don’t know if we will ever achieve “perfect,” Scully, but we will keep strumming the tune until we get it right. A million and one will be our lucky number." He pulled her closer, his voice sleepy once again.

She smiled. A million and one, that seemed like a fitting number. Each of them on opposite ends, two opposing viewpoints, but with paths shaped like circles in between so they could never stray too far from each other. Scully snuggled closer to him and he softly breathed her name.

A million and one. It was about time they got it right.

_________________________________________________

I love writing Mulder and Scully happy and being “normal.” Finally reaching that point where they can move forward and be together, no more problems weighing them down.

Of course, they have to have the bad and feel the guilt to get to the happiness they deserve. But, they are finally realizing it and facing it head on instead of hiding it and keeping it buried down deep. They will be better people and better parents, to BOTH of their children, for it.

And.. man oh man, is Mulder going to spoil this baby.

[pathos-logical]

One Picture, a Thousand Words

Roman is a wonder that cannot be put to words, Logan a marvel that ink cannot capture. They try anyway.

Hoo, this sure was a labor of love! Love because I love @bleepblopbloop56​ with all my heart and labor because HOLY HECK WAS THIS HARD TO WRITE. But never mind any of that, because HAPPY BIRTHDAY, my friend!!! I absolutely adore you, and I hope your year is as fantastic as you are!!!

Trigger warnings: Food mention; a joking mention of hallucinations. I think that’s it, but please tell me if I need to add something!!

There are a thousand words Logan could use to describe Roman. He would pull a Shakespeare and invent a thousand more if it meant finding a word that could accurately chronicle the tapestry of Roman, all colorful patches and carefully stitched seams. But Logan is no artist, and his words seem an inadequate medium. 

Beautiful, he thinks and immediately discards. That is too obvious, the truth of it plain to see. Lovely is- better. More intimate. But too soft, perhaps, for Roman’s flame-edged hair, the bronze of his skin and the steel in his spine.

He has tried countless words, none of them quite right. Larger-than-life. (And no, his charisma and magnetic smile absolutely did not excuse the way he didn’t seem to know how to shut up.) Captivating. (Roman did have a way with words, when he wasn’t being an idiot.) Extraordinary. (He was quite the artist and actor.) Brilliant. (Again, Roman was rather intelligent when it came down to it.) Perfect. (Technically impossible. But.)

All those words he longs to say, not one spoken aloud.

(Or- once. Alone in his room, he had tried the shape of mine on his mouth, thought about how it tasted on his lips and imagined the look in Roman’s eyes if he ever dared to say it in front of him. Once, and never again.)

Oh, he wishes. But Logan has always been better with words on the page than to other people.

Well, he thinks, looking down at the piece of paper in his hands, I suppose that’s what this is for. His eyes rove over the paper, skimming over phrases without really taking them in. If he reads it he’ll try to fix it, and at this point there’s too much of his heart in the words for him to change them.

He looks at the last paragraph. It’s the kind of declaration he sneers at in the romance novels Roman so adores, the kind of thing he would’ve sneered at barely years ago. But Roman always did have a way of making him question things he’d taken for postulates- himself included.

I tried, over the course of this letter, to pin down what exactly about you has drawn me so irrevocably into your orbit and left me floundering in unfamiliar space. However, as the length of this might indicate, I soon discovered that I could not.

You know me. It is very rare that I find myself lost for words. But I find myself unable to find the correct words to describe you, or even the correct words. Not because I have run out of things to say, or even because you have left me speechless, but because I could use a whole dictionary of love letters and fail to find the words that capture the way your eyes shine in the light when you laugh at your own jokes, and all the cliches in the world cannot express how I feel about every mundane, breathtaking thing about you.

But despite all that, I have three words for you, Roman, and I suppose there is no better day to deliver them than today (as of the day you receive this, at least).

I love you.

 Roman has a sketchbook no one but him has ever seen.

The drawings are all in pencil, and Roman aches to paint them, to mix his colors until he finds shades that will truly bring them to life. But Logan is a peculiar kind of monochrome, with his navy hair and black polo shirts and countless blue ties, and Roman fears that no amount of paint could do that justice.

It’s undeniable that the warm brown of Logan’s eyes is a color he itches to find in a colored pencil, that the almond of his skin is one he longs to see redden at his touch. But those aren’t the things he really wants to capture when he puts pencil to paper anyway. No, when he draws Logan, his focus is on the subtle gleam that comes to his eyes when he speaks about something he’s passionate about, the curl of his lips when his emotionless facade breaks at some stupid comment Roman made.

Roman wishes he could show Logan the notebook, sometimes, the days when his longing overpowers his surety in the fact that it could never be reciprocated. He imagines coffee-colored eyes looking through the pages with delight, taking in the devotion clear in the meticulous lines. He pictures the hands he’s spent hours perfecting skimming over paper, taking care not to smudge the lead.

(He sees disgust settling in the curve of Logan’s lips and rejection showing in the set of his shoulders, and he pushes away the thought and hides his notebook under his pillow, pretends that he hasn’t memorized the shape of Logan’s smile.)

But he doesn’t think of any of that today. It’s Valentine’s Day, and Roman is dressed for it. He dons his armor that he definitely did not spend a whole two hours deliberating on and sets out the door armed with a kind of desperate false bravado, which is immediately undermined by how he jumps at his roommate Patton’s encouraging “go get ‘im, tiger!” shouted through the walls.

Still scowling at the door behind him, Roman briefly debates how desperate a text will make him sound before deciding, screw it.

Hey, we still on for lunch at Cream of the Cup?

The reply is prompt, as always, and Roman makes a futile attempt at smothering the smile he knows is blossoming across his lips.

>> Of course.

I’ll see you then!

Roman can so do this.

Virgil I can’t do this

>> why not?? youve been planning this for weeks, youll bbe fine

actually, knowing you, orobably months

Jfkdkfkfkfk

it’s

LOGAN

>> im aware, weve only veen best friends for years now

… 

if yoy send a long rambling text ahout how wonderful logan is and how you dont deserve hkm im gonna lose it

roman i swear to god

HE’S JUST SO SMART AND AMAZING AND I’M JUST ME I DON’T DESERVE HIM AND WHAT IF I SCREW THINGS UP BETWEEN US FOREVER AND HE HATES ME OR WHAT IF IT’S AWKWARD I’M OKAY WITH JUST BEING FRIENDS REALLY HE PROBABLY DOESN’T EVEN LIKE ME THAT WAY ANYWAY I MEAN WHY WOULD HE

Whoops sorry

>> youre not

I’m not

But

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

>> okay roman, listen up, because I’m only gonna say this once. 

first of all, cut it with the self-deprecating crap. one, that’s my thing. and two, I WILL pull a patton and fight you.

stop doubting yourself, it doesn’t suit you

I might not have known you as long as I’ve known logan, but I know 

I can see you typing. shut up.

maybe I haven’t known you as long as I’ve known Logan, but I do know you’re a good guy, and you /clearly/ love him

KSKFKFKKFKGD W H A T

>> yes, everyone knows, no, Logan does not, LET ME FINISH

it means a LOT to him that you actually read the articles he sends you about mars rovers at 3 am and that you don’t tell him he’s annoying for infodumping about alpha centauri or whatever star system he’s planning to go to and that you deal with his hypocrisy about sleep schedules and his general inability to do emotions

also, knowing him for years means I know his type, and trust me, you’re it

and even if by some miracle he doesn’t like you back, you guys are too close to ruin your friendship. okay? so however this ends, I promise you’ll still be friends

>> But

ROMAN

listen, you don’t tune him out when he starts babbling, and he does the same for you. he loves listening to your rants about art theory, he goes to every single one of your shows, and he started learning Spanish just to impress you. yes, he’s learned more phrases than just insults, he’s just been hiding it so he can surprise (aka impress) you later

and roman? he really really does value your friendship. you know that we’ve known each other since forever, so you know I mean it when I say that I’ve NEVER seen him get so close to someone this quickly.

and… you’ve been good for him too, okay? he’s not really the type to get lonely, but that’s just because he gets so tied up in his giant brain he forgets there are people in the outside world to talk to. but it really is important to him that you’re always there for him, and… I can tell you right now that he’s told me how much he appreciates you for it

after all that? I’d say he loves you too, dude. go for it.

you can talk now

Holy heck you DO love me

>> eh

Holy HECK

Wait

Did you turn on autocorrect just to yell at me???

>> Only for you, babe.

Please never do that again

yeaj that was oncredibly unconfortable

now GO GET YOUR MAN

 Roman, for all his theatrics about love at first sight and true love’s kiss, hadn’t mentioned Valentine’s Day plans once in the weeks leading up to it. Then, exactly one week ago, he’d texted Logan with a simple request to meet up at a nearby cafe. Logan knew him too well to miss the possible connotations of such an invitation. But it was entirely possible that this was merely meant to be an outing between two friends. A platonic outing.

A platonic outing where there was barely room to stand, forget sit. Logan curses under his breath. He’d decided for once to not show up fifteen minutes early, as that would only give him more time to second-guess himself, especially as Roman was notorious for being chronically late. But he had failed to account for the obvious fact that, it being both a Saturday and Valentine’s Day, the usually quiet cafe is filled to the brim with couples ordering the heart-themed specials and kissing and generally clogging the air with sweet words and PDA. And no, Logan is not irrationally annoyed about this, he’s just worried he won’t be able to secure an empty table for him and Roman.

But just as the thought crosses his mind, he catches a familiar head of fiery hair at a table against the wall, bent over his phone and apparently completely absorbed by whatever he was looking at. An incredulous “Roman?” slips from his lips unbidden, because- well, Roman had once nearly been late to the first show he was the lead in. But there he was, reserving a table at exactly 12:30 with a croissant in front of him. Maybe today really was a day for miracles.

He watches with amusement as Roman jumps and looks up at the sound of his name. His face lights up as soon as he registers who it is, and Logan abruptly goes from amused to filled with some kind of fluttery warmth he doesn’t want to quantify.

“Logan!” Roman exclaims, hurriedly tucking his phone away. “Hey! How are you?” His smile beams out like the sun, but it dims upon Logan’s next words.

“Not well, unfortunately,” Logan informs him gravely. “I fear I have been having severe auditory and visual hallucinations. For example, I am currently experiencing one so vivid that I believe I am conversing with a friend in a cafe when I know that there is no chance of him being here yet.” Maybe Logan should feel bad about the way Roman’s expression morphs from worry to alarm to overblown outrage, but the challenging gleam in his eyes arrests him as surely as that of of Roman’s heart-shaped studs, and he can’t bring himself to regret it.

“Hey, I’m not always late!” he protests so loudly several patrons turn to look at him, perhaps expecting a scene.

Logan can’t help the smirk that creeps across his face as he slides into the seat opposite Roman, surreptitiously tucking a navy blue folder besides him. Thank goodness for Roman being typically Roman and reserving a booth that could seat six for a party of two. “Roman. Once Virgil and I deliberately told you to meet up an hour after we were actually supposed to meet so that when you inevitably showed up late, it would only be by five minutes rather than fifty. And the very idea that you could be on time for something went so flagrantly against the laws of the universe that the universe struck back by making your car break down, and you missed the meeting entirely.”

“Is that what happened?” Roman asks, looking so genuinely gobsmacked that Logan can’t help the snicker that escapes him. Roman’s expression flips to one of self-satisfaction, and Logan tries to ignore the little burst of fondness in his chest at the sight. Even if the rest of today goes horribly, at least he can savor this easy banter between them.

And banter they do, debating over whether Logan’s physics professor or Roman’s marketing professor is more inept before commiserating over the “perpetual hell week” that is college. They bounce from the disappointing latest installment of one of Roman’s favorite series to a terrible documentary on aliens Logan had found on a “science” channel (“It’s called a having a basic grasp of eighth-grade geometry, Roman- which, unlike this nine-thousand year old civilization, these morons have clearly never achieved!”) to every little thing in between, their food forgotten in front of them.

It’s nothing special, technically- they’ve been friends for years now, and they often have talks about everything and nothing. But today Logan can convince himself that an electric current is charging the air between them, flushing Roman’s cheeks and lighting up his eyes as Logan is drawn in, helpless against his magnetism.

There’s no decisive moment where Logan thinks, this is it. There’s just Roman, his laughter like bells in the breeze, and Logan, gazing at him like he’d put the stars in the sky.

“Roman,” he says. That’s it- Roman.

Roman is still giggling at his rendition of the student who’d spilled their coffee on the drama professor on the first day, but he sobers at whatever look is on Logan’s face. “Hey- you good, Lo?”

The nickname catches at something in Logan’s chest, pulls it open so the next words come just a little harder, just a little easier. “Roman,” he says again, looking down. “I do not wish to… ruin the mood, but I have something to confess.”

(He’s looking down, so he misses the way Roman jumps at the last word.)

But when he meets Roman’s eyes, open and curious, Logan’s confidence abandons him. He exhales slowly in an attempt to regain some of the feeling from before, like the memory of Roman’s voice will fortify his. But all that comes out is: “I wrote- would you-” 

Logan’s throat fails him entirely, something a little like dread and a little like hope clogging it up. Without another word, he slides the folder he had kept tucked at his side to Roman. When Roman raises a curious eyebrow, Logan simply smiles- a quick, brittle thing- and motions for him to open it.

Earlier, the noise in the cafe had distracted Logan, had made him frown when it rose over Roman’s voice. But suddenly it all fades into the background, the chatter of voices and clatter of spoons receding in favor of the thwip of the folder opening, the little breath Roman takes when he reads the first two words.

Dimly, Logan thinks he must have used up all his words in the letter. His fingers lay still at his sides, mind is utterly blank as he watches Roman read it. But his heart is pounding loud enough that for an absurd second, he’s sure Roman can hear it in the sudden quiet.

Logan waits for a minute, maybe five. He thinks he’d wait for Roman forever if he asked. But Roman doesn’t make him wait that long, because when he looks up his eyes are wet with tears, and when Logan uselessly opens his mouth- to do what? His voice certainly hasn’t returned- Roman lurches forward, clumsy in a way Logan has never known him, and seals their lips with a kiss.

And when they finally draw apart, Logan thinks he’s regained his words (or maybe just these three), because they force themselves out of his lips like they’ve been waiting to do so since Logan said Roman’s name. And Roman, his face a study in the kind of shock and delight that can only come from a thought-to-be-hopeless dream coming true, returns them.

[lovelyirony]

"You found me crying on the kitchen floor in the middle of the night next to a broken jelly jar" and "my parents are coming over in 10 minutes please put some clothes on"

Helen Cho was the Perfect Student. Her notes were the stuff of envy, never had less than a B+ in any class, and always treated others around her with kindness. She was friends with Jane and Bruce, and then soon got absorbed into Bruce and Jane’s other friend group. 

There was just one thing that she couldn’t quite get an A in, and that was talking to her crush. 

Sharon Carter was the prettiest girl that Helen thinks she’s ever seen. With a brilliant smile, a very cute leather jacket, and combat boots, Helen could barely shape words to form a possible discussion.

Sharon also happened to be her neighbor, who liked to wave to Helen whenever she saw her, blasted music from her car, and was also friends with Maria, who Helen was getting closer to. 

So, interaction was unavoidable. 

“You could just say hi,”  Jane mentions. “You could definitely say a one-syllable word.” 

“I’d probably mess up and do something completely awful,” Helen moans. “Like maybe I’ll try to talk to her about weird things.” 

“That just means she learns more about you,” Bruce says, taking a sip of coffee. “But you can’t avoid her. Maria’s hosting a house party at hers tomorrow night, and you’re coming.” 

“I have homework!” Helen exclaims. 

“You’re ahead on the coursework,” Jane responds. “And you can do the history homework the morning of. It’s all about World War II, so you can ask Steve if you want help.” 

Helen agrees, although her mind is racing.��

Sharon, of course, looks great. She always does. Helen likes the blue shirt she has on, and the eyeliner. 

“You should tell her that,” Jane says. She’s been sipping on a drink for a while, trying to get the courage to talk to Thor’s new friend Valkyrie. “I think I’m going to ask Thor’s new friend about herself.” 

Helen circles the room and eventually gets waved over by Sam. 

“I was wondering when you would come over and talk,” he teases. “Listen, we need to settle a debate. What is your opinion on using sharp cheddar cheese on a cheeseburger?” 

“Don’t listen to him, he’s an idiot,” Sharon argues, laughing. She has a beautiful laugh. “He thinks that green bell peppers on pizza is good.” 

“It’s the texture!” Sam yells. 

“They taste gross,” Helen agrees. “Plus, sharp cheddar can overpower the burger. But are we talking grilled at home or restaurant?” 

“Restaurant.” 

“Depends on the other things they put on it,” Helen says. “If they put on everything, then it’s okay. But if it’s just that, it’s a shit burger.” 

“See?!” Sharon exclaims. “Helen gets it, which is why she’s the coolest person here.” 

Helen finds it easier to talk to her after that. Even if she does stutter a little bit when Sharon sits closer to her on the couch when Maria shows up and they start settling down for the night. 

Helen and Sharon listen to Tony tell some wild tale about some of his engineering society buddies and the newest project. 

“Rhodey couldn’t be here, but listen…” 

The stories divert to different people, and Helen listens as best she can before the sleep hits her. 

“You falling asleep?” Sharon asks. Helen nods. 

“Just a little bit. I can get up to get some soda…” 

“Eh, it’s too comfy for you to move,” Sharon says, smile easy. “Here, just use my leg. Sam! Pass me a blanket.” 

Helen is kind of freaking out. She sends a raised look of slight panic to Jane, who laughs from her position nearly on Valkyrie’s lap. 

“That’s all you, Cho.” 

“What do you mean, Jane?” Sharon asks. 

“Nothing!” Helen says. “Just something that we talked about earlier. It’s nothing.” 

“Interesting,” Bruce says, smiling. He’s cuddled into one of Thor’s arms, completely content. “Carry on.” 

Sharon smells like mint. Helen likes it. She thinks maybe that she could stay there for forever. 

She gets woken up by Sharon over her. 

“Hey, time to wake up.” 

“Why?” Helen asks sleepily. “It’s comfy. You’re comfy.” 

“I’m givin’ you a ride home, sweetheart. Up you go.” 

Sharon’s car is comfortable. Helen nods off on the passenger seat. Sharon looks very pretty in the low street light. Her hair looks nice. 

Helen sways as she gets out, smiling goofily. 

“Bye, Sharon. Love you.” 

Sharon laughs, and waves. 

Helen wakes up and realizes she said that. Which, in the grand scheme of things, is not a big deal. People say that all the time. 

But it’s Sharon, who looks very good all the time and oh god she also told her that she was comfy who says that?????? 

At school, things are better. Sharon teases her about it. 

“So, you get very interesting when you’re sleepy.” 

“Oh god,” Helen groans. “I’m sorry if I said anything that was weird.” 

“Nah, you’re cute when you’re sleepy.” 

Helen’s face turns a bright red, and she has to bend down in her locker in order to avoid Sharon seeing the entirety of that comment’s effect. 

Jane is at her locker next, smiling. 

“You’re so whipped. It’s hilarious.” 

“Well so are you with Val!” Helen says. 

“Yeah, but she knows about it. And I’m completely fine with that, really, it leads to so many good things like–” 

“No!” Helen says. “Do not wanna hear it!” 

“I was gonna say dates but I see what you’re thinking,” Jane says, laughing. “But seriously, talk to her.” 

They actually do talk more. Sharon comes to more events, and Helen becomes more comfortable chatting with her. She’s really funny, honest, and they have the same taste in humor. 

This all culminates to the end of the school year. There are finals, and Helen is stressed. She really puts her all into tests, because she wants to get the best possible score for the best possible scholarships. 

Studying does hard things to you, it really does. Helen’s been stressing about her chem exam, because the teacher didn’t mention a lot and what if she fails and then her college tells her that she’s a gigantic failure who should just live in obscurity possibly in the middle of Vermont–

She breaks a jelly jar. 

Her parents are gone, and there’s no one there, and she broke a jelly jar. 

There’s a knock on the door. Helen doesn’t know who it is, but she peeks through the blinds. 

She knows it’s Sharon, and she looks a mess, but she just really needs someone to help her. 

“Honey, what’s wrong?” Sharon asks, bringing Helen into a hug. 

“I just…I’m too stressed. I worked up too much about tests and now I-I’m going to f-fail and no college will w-want me!” Helen says, tears forming. “And I broke a j-jar and I can’t remember where my dad put the broom, and–and–” 

“It’ll be okay,” Sharon says, smoothing tears away from Helen’s face. “Let’s go find the broom, okay?” 

They clean it up, and Helen sits as Sharon sits by her. 

“I’m sorry,” Helen says. 

“You have nothing to apologize for, you know that. I’m just happy I was here to help.” 

Helen leans against her, and Sharon presses a kiss to her forehead. 

“I’ll help you study next time. You do great things, Helen. You care so much for people, and you know that you’re good at school. Anyone would be lucky to have you, and everyone else will be jealous.” 

They don’t get together then. Sharon looks like she might almost kiss Helen, and maybe she would’ve. But Helen has to bid her a goodnight. 

Sharon actually asks Helen to the spring dance. She gives her a sweet sign, candy, and asks her if she wants to have coordinating outfits. 

“How do you mean?” 

“Matching colors,” Sharon says. “I was thinking about wearing a suit, but what were you thinking about wearing?” 

She’s not going to lie: Helen’s brain short-circuited for more than a few moments. Sharon in a suit…that’s a powerful image. 

“What color would you want?” 

They decide on blue. It’ll be cute. Jane grins widely as she drags Helen to different stores. 

“I don’t even know what I’m wearing, but I’m making sure you look so cute that you’ll make her fall into your arms.” 

“I think I’d fall over.” 

“Nah, love makes you strong. Now come on, I think I found a dark blue dress for you.” 

Helen loves the dress. She can’t stop twirling and practicing poses, and her mother loves it. 

Sharon won’t show her the suit until the day of. 

And it’s great. The sleeves are rolled at the elbows, and she’s paired it beautifully with red lipstick. 

“You look great,” Helen says, smiling. 

They take pictures together, and she can’t stop the little thrill that goes through her when Sharon holds her waist just a little bit tighter. 

The dance is fantastic. Some head over to Tony’s, and then Helen and Sharon head over to Sharon’s for a sleepover. 

It ends up being a bit sleepless. 

“I can’t believe you look so amazing every day I see you,” Sharon murmurs. 

“What? Have you seen yourself?” Helen asks. “You look…amazing.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

There’s a brief silence. 

“I’m just gonna say it,” Sharon says. “I really kind of want to kiss you right now because I like you. Is it mutual, or…?” 

“Get over here,” Helen breathes, grinning as Sharon starts kissing her. 

Sharon’s gotten Helen out of her dress before they hear a phone buzz. They stop, both checking. 

Sharon’s face pales. 

“My parents’ event got cancelled and they’ll be home in like two minutes. Get some clothes on!” 

Helen scrambles, and ends up wearing one of Sharon’s shirts and her old pajama shorts. 

“Hey girls,” Mrs. Carter says, smiling. “Good to see you, so sorry it’s early.” 

“No problem at all,” Helen responds sweetly. What event got canceled?” 

“Oh, a couple’s night at a bar,” she says. “It was trivia night.” 

“You could always do trivia at the bar down the street,” Sharon suggests. “Because they do it until, like, two a.m.” 

“Already trying to get rid of your mother?” Mrs. Carter responds. “What have you two been up to?” 

“Eh, nothing,” Sharon says. “Just got home, changing out of dance outfits. You know the drill.” 

They exchange a few more pleasantries, and then Helen nearly bursts out laughing. Sharon grins, crawling up to bed. 

“Well, guess the excitement is over for the night.” 

“I suppose you’re right,” Helen says, smiling. “But hey. There’s a new place downtown that’s supposed to serve killer shaved ice. Wanna come with me?” 

“Helen, I’ll go anywhere with you,” Sharon whispers, turning off the light. “Anywhere at all.” 

[lemonadelyric]

ALL.THE QUESTIONS FOR THAT ASK MEME

1. What do you identify as and what are your pronouns? I use he/him pronouns, please! And I have a lot of identities so uh, be warned. I'm nonbinary! Not really sure on gender, or any specifics. I'm pretty fluid between andro/masc/fem so??? It's a big Question Mark. I'm polyamorous! I'm in a handful of relationships but they're all important to me. I'm also pretty open about loving and appreciating my friends too! I'm pansexual! I'm also panromantic and nebularomantic! I know people debate on pansexual/polysexual/bisexual all the time, and honestly I just go with pan cause I like the flag colors xD But also, it's basically me saying I feel attraction not based on gender/presentation! 2. How did you discover your sexuality, tell your story? Oh oof okay so. I noticed it since I was YOUNG. I always thought girls were cute?? I'm AFAB, for the record. But I always figured that was something everyone was into. Then some people were talking about lesbians and such, and I was like "Well yeah, I'd kiss a girl" SO YOU CAN IMAGINE HOW WELL THAT WENT OVER. People asked me if I was gay, and I didn't think I was? I liked boys too! Wasn't until probably high school that I finally settled on "Yeah, I'm bi." and then discovered the whole gender spectrum and being nonbinary and so much just fell into place 3. Have you experienced being misgendered? What happened and how did you overcome it? So I present pretty andro, I think! I don't try to fit a masc/fem scale but like, in person I don't really make a big deal out of it. There was a stretch of time where I went by she/her still, even as a nonbinary. But I switched to he/him about a year ago and it's just GOOD for me. Well.... Someone I really don't like joined the chat where I first decided to go by he/him. They joined, and they bitched to the mods about not liking me, but they called me "she/her" EVEN WITH he/him being in my intro. The mods were friends of mine and corrected them and were DEFINITELY on edge and asked me if I ever went by she/her or if they were purposefully misgendering me. 4. Who was the first person you told, how did they react? I'm pretty sure it was my boyfriend, Eric! They didn't give a shit HAHA, and have been all respectful and everything. 5. Describe what it was like coming out, what did you feel? So I don't actually remember when I told them? But it wasn't a big deal actually. 6. If you’re out, how did your parents/guardians/friends react? Oof so, I don't think I ever straight up told my mom. But I don't really care what she thinks anyways LOL I did have to tell Eric's parents, though! When we were poly and dating our qpp Reina. (Didn't want to explain those details and shit to them). But telling them that meant telling them I'm gay haha. They totally didn't care and have been so welcoming and accepting, i love them so much ;;w;; 7. What is one question you hate people asking about your sexuality? "Why do you need to be polyamorous do you not love your partners does that just mean you want to sleep around you're just using it as an excuse to cheat on your partners" All said from people who don't know shit about being poly. 8. Describe the style of clothing that you most often wear. Oh god this is so boring. I just wear jeans and tshirts xD Nothing special or SUPER GAY. 9. Who are your favourite lgbt+ ships? ROSE/PEARL FROM STEVEN UNIVERSE I don't consume a lot of lgbt media apparently, huh. 10. What does makeup mean to you? Do you wear any? Sometimes! Usually no, though. I like eyeliner most of the time. 11. Do you experience dysphoria? If so, how does that affect you? YES. So with my chest it's more frequent, I also just don't like being as fat as I am. SO that's half my body problems. Bottom stuff is less frequent but usually during That Time Of The Month (Which, I actually haven't had for YEARS, but I started getting again recently, I hate it.) 12. What is the stupidest thing you’ve heard said about the lgbt+ community? "Oh yeah I'm inclusive of ace/aro people in the LGBT community!! You have a chemical imbalance in your brain which makes you just like us!!!" Like.. what the fuck. 13. What’s your favourite thing about the lgbt+ community? I love how we're all THERE for each other! You join a chat, go "Hey I'm gay" and we're like "GAY??? GAY???? GAY???? GAY????" we're like dogs LMAO 14. What’s your least favourite thing about the lgbt+ community? Sick of transmeds and terfs and ace/aro exclusionists and shit, fuck off my blog. Also??? Can we stop making jokes about MOGAI identities and shit??? "Lmao this gender is based on being a special snowflake" cool shut up, let people live damn, it's not that hard to just respect people. 15. Have you ever been to your cities pride event? Why or why not? Nope :c Everywhere I've lived either 1. there wasn't any close to me/I wasn't out, or 2. ITS TOO DANGEROUS TO GO, or 3. I don't have a car lmao. 16. Who is your favourite lgbt+ Icon/Advocate/Celebrity? Lil Nas X, hands down. He's a great dude. 17. Have you been in a relationship and how did you meet? I'm in three right now!! So the first is Eric, we met on an online rp chat website thingy! Second is Chander, we met through a mutual friend and we knew each other like a year then within the span of like two months we started dating and now we live together, 2.5 years later xD Third is Jay! I met him through a kin Discord, we've been friends over a year but it took a few months before we started dating! 18. What is your favourite lgbt+ book? Y'know I don't think I've ever read one. Uhhh... I mean the Black Dagger Brotherhood has a gay couple??? Does that count??? xD 19. Have you ever faced discrimination? What happened? Slightly! Most of mine is about being polyamorous. I have people tell me "That's not enough to be lgbt" paying 0 attention to me also being nonbinary and pansexual. Also had people tell me I'm not trans enough to be nonbinary because I don't want to transition. 20. Your Favorite lgbt+ movie or show? One Day At A Time? That's about the only one I can think of LOL 21. Who are some of your favourite lgbt+ bloggers? Uuhhh I don't really follow bloggers. 22. Which lgbt+ slur do you want to reclaim? QUEER and gay itself. People act like "gay" was never used against the lgbt community like, bitch, if Hillary fuckin' Duff has to tell some stupid teens in a PSA to not use "gay" like that, then I'm reclaiming it, shut up. 23. Have you ever gone to a gay bar, or a drag show, how was it? Nope and nope. 24. How do you self-identify your gender, and what does that mean to you? I'm nonbinary! I use he/him pronouns and it pretty much just means I don't wanna be a boy or a girl. I don't mind being called like "You're a good guy" or whatever. 25. Are you interested in having children? Why or why not? Not really? I'm very selfish and self-centered, I don't think I could handle having a child xD 26. What identity advice would you give your younger self? "You don't have to figure this all out right now! You have time! Also, make friends with gay people. They're not some closed community where if you join and you're wrong they abandon you." 27. What do you think of gender roles in relationships? Eh, nah. Like I'm a big "Yeah sure I'll do laundry and dishes" or whatever. But I'd rather share responsibilities! 28. Anything else you want to share about your experience with gender? I've been questioning and trying to identify my gender a lot more and get more specific, but I'm in no rush. 29. What is something you wish people know about being lgbt+? We're just people, man. That's it. That's all there it to it. You don't have to have the same feelings as us, but just give us the right to love and marry who we want, or not do that, or have our relationships look however we want. 30. Why are proud to be lgbt+? I'm proud to be LGBT because it means I'm in a community of people who are accepting and caring. It's like a family wherever you go.

Thank you for the asks <3

[forestwater87]

Would you want Gwen and David to become a couple at the end of CampCamp? And adopt Max as well? Cuz' I do...

Gwenvid becoming canon is one of those things I simultaneously love and feel is unnecessary. The show will never let it be as pure and fluffy (or emo) as the fans will make it, anyway, and there is no force on earth that will stop me from shipping this ship with every ounce of my shriveled little heart, so I’m kinda ambivalent on the whole thing. (Besides, I know at least one of the showrunners is not at all into it, so I don’t see it happening no matter how much we may want it to. As long as they keep giving us little ship nuggets we can read way too much into, I’ll be good.)

Also I’m not convinced CC is the kind of show that needs an end, so “at the end” is one of those things that … eh, whatever. It’s an endless summer existing outside of time. Does it ever have to end, as long as they keep having new ideas?

As for the other part of this question … oh, boy. Anon, you did not ask me to go the fuck off on this question, but I gotta because I’ve been holding all this inside for literal years, and I don’t even care that this will make me hemorrhage followers because I’ve been very good and very quiet about it for a long-ass time and I just gotta –

I fucking hate Dad//vid.

And you know? I didn’t used to. My feelings, much like those regarding Cute Waitress, went from “how cute!” to “eh, not my thing but whatever,” and now we’ve circled all the way around to my entire soul lighting on rage-fire every time it’s mentioned, and just … I hate it so much … it’s just …

I feel like this deserves an explanation. And I think the people who’ve already blocked me or whatever aren’t going to read it, so let’s put it under a cut just for the sake of scrolling. But here’s the cliffs notes version:

1. It’s #NotAllDad//vid. There are some iterations of it I don’t hate, and even quite like.

2. David adopting Max, as a general concept, blows. There are exceptions – see #1 – but 99 times out of 100 I hate it with all of my hate. (The short reasons why: David is baby and Forest has Issues, it’s kiiiiinda racist?, and it’s lazy, boring, and way overdone.) 

3. The fandom will not fucking chill about it – at the expense of all other explorations of David and Max’s relationship. And that makes me highkey annoyed.

That being said, anyone who’s worried my blog will become a cesspool of dad//vid hate, please don’t be concerned. This is like lancing a boil of something (I’m bad at metaphors). All the garbage pours out in one massive textblock, and then I go back to being more or less chill about the whole thing. We’re dealing with years of repression here. Shit’s gonna be a lot more intense than it needs to be, and then we’ll settle back down to our regularly-scheduled CC fluff times.

I’m hoping this doesn’t make the fandom hate me forever … but given #3 up there, I’m pretty dang scared it will.

(And hey, I don’t want Cute Waitress to explode in a pit of fire and snakes anymore, so maybe my opinion on dad//vid will change eventually too. Always hold out hope, right?) 

1. #NotAllDad//vid

Like I said, I didn’t used to totally despise the whole Dad//vid thing. Like, I love the idea of David having been a counselor for so long that he just has ingrained Dad Instincts (see S4E14 for the most recent example of this). David as the Dad Friend? Good shit. David as the mother/father hen of his little cabal of campers? Very good shit. Nonliteral interpretations of dad//vid are usually really cute and fun and have some solid basis in canon, and I’m all about it.

Even some of the more literal David-adopts-Max AUs aren’t … the worst. Some of my friends have written versions of it that are original or at least were at the time and really compelling, and usually they found a way of skirting past the majority of the issues in #2. It can be done well.

It just … usually … isn’t.

And for that we gotta see #2.

2. David-Adopts-Max Sucks as a Concept

There is nothing good about the idea of David adopting Max, at least based on what we’ve currently seen in canon. 

(Yes, I am aware that I should couch statements like that with “in my opinion” and “with exceptions” and the like, but that’s a lot of work for this and a bunch of the stuff I’m gonna say in a second, so please just assume for the purposes of everything I put on this blog that it’s in my opinion. I’m not out here dropping Cold Hard Facts about Camp Camp of all things; I’m just spewing my feelings. 

I have lots of feelings.)

I don’t really have a cute little opening segment for this, so let’s skip the hors d’oeuvres and hop right into the meat of it:

David is Way Too Young to be a Father (According to Forest, Who Has Massive Emotional Baggage About These Things)

David is 24 goddamn years old. You know who shouldn’t be put in constant legal charge of a 10-year-old? Someone who is only 14 years older than him. If he’d had Max the old-fashioned way he would be too young to go on 16 and Pregnant. 

That is too fucking young.

I know that some people become parents that young, and even younger. I’m not saying your experiences are bad or invalid. I’m just saying, from the standpoint of being 26, that if one of my two-years-younger friends told me they were adopting a kid they knew from work, I would tell them they were fucking bonkers and to hand that child over to a grown-up immediately. This is especially true of David, who has remarkable emotional maturity but is also mentally about 8 years old. Gwen is the adult at that camp, and David is such a baby. 

Please don’t give the baby a baby.

Also, I’m terrified of having children. I never plan to, I’ve only recently accepted the fact that I don’t have to (grew up religious; it was kinda a whole thing), and get knee-jerk defensive over the idea of anyone my age or younger having children. It freaks me out, and that’s not a good or right emotional reaction to have but it’s mine, and I lowkey panic every time I think of David having children because if he should have a child at 24 then I’m already late.

Yes, I get the feeling that I’m running behind. For something I don’t actually want, ever. In comparison to a fictional character. Whose fatherhood decisions are not even remotely canon.

TL;DR I have issues and my other arguments are decidedly more valid than this one

So How About That Racism, Huh?

I know this has been a matter of some debate in the CC fandom for a while now … but you know what? It’s not nearly enough of a debate. People should absolutely be talking more about the potential problematique aspects of having a way too young white kid take a child from his immigrant parents on some pretty shoddy evidence (which I’ll address in the next section). There’s some White Savior stuff going on there, some negatively-stereotyping-poc-and-immigrant parents going on there … I’m not saying these should completely disqualify any dad//vid AUs or speculation or anything, but it should absolutely be much more of a conversation than it currently is.

(This is why one of the few David-adopts-Max concepts I like is one in which his parents have died. Not only is it more interesting – again, see the next bit – but it neatly sidesteps some potential gross stereotyping, and that’s just always rad.)

I feel like the common counterargument to this is that there are not-great parents of color and not-great immigrant parents IRL, so wouldn’t it be dishonest not to portray that in fiction as well? 

I mean … I dunno. 

I’m not here to tell anyone how to write the One Pure Dad//vid AU or anything. But I will say that I don’t think most people in love with this concept have done anything resembling due diligence in considering how best to sensitively portray the complicated familial, racial, and other implications of this particular AU or concept.

Besides, it’s not real life. It’s fiction, which means any decisions are being made deliberately. It’s a choice to depict Max’s parents as abusive and neglectful monsters who immigrated to America to give their son a better life but that’s for the next section, and it’s not inherently a bad choice, but it’s one that should be made thoughtfully, with an eye to the history of negative stereotypes that already run rampant in fiction. That’s just part of the writing process, and not one that should be shunted aside because it’s more work and less dramatic than creating the biggest of big bads for David to make grand speeches at and/or punch in the face.

Just Not Very Interesting (And Done to Death)

Regarding the overdone thing: Reading a David-adopts-Max AU most of the time is just like reading every other David-adopts-Max AU; I’m pretty sure I could put all these fics on transparencies, overlay them on top of one another, and still have a legible story because they differ so little.

Now to be clear: This – along with the rest of my points in this section – are about personal taste. Some people love reading the same story over and over again, and it brings immense comfort to them. That’s okay, and you shouldn’t feel bad about reading (or writing) these stories and not wanting to break your back trying to find a new angle for it. Cringe culture is canceled, and my personal tastes should not dictate the fandom. You do you.

That being said, I’m also allowed to be so bored by almost all of these fics that I nearly fall asleep scrolling the AO3 feed.

And the frustrating thing is, it would take so little to make it different. All it would take is asking: what if it wasn’t that simple? What if his parents aren’t all bad? What if they’re trying their best, but aren’t able for whatever reason to care for Max the way he needs to be? (I’m thinking Deja’s mom from This Is Us, for a cool example.) What if they later come to regret whatever behavior is making them so sucky, and reconcile in some fashion with their son? What if David and/or Max have fundamentally misread the situation, due to being on the outside and a kid, respectively, and it turns out his parents are actually making the best decisions they can in this situation and David doesn’t need to literally become Max’s dad, but integrates into the family in another way? (Seriously, even “what if they’re dead instead of evil?” would blow my mind in terms of originality. It’s been done, but not nearly enough.)

So that’s the overdone thing out of the way. What about lazy and boring?

It just seems to me that, based on the evidence we’ve been given in the show, there are infinitely more nuanced and creative alternatives to “Max’s parents are canonically abusive and neglectful and deserve to have their child ripped away from them by the guy who sees him at his job like 2-3 months out of the year.” I, in fact, refuse to believe Max’s parents are bad people based on the current evidence, and won’t do so unless canon forces me to see no other option.

Because as of right now, I just don’t buy it.

Didn’t show up to Parents’ Day: Well, we know they immigrated from India to escape “menial labor” (S1E4), and we know capitalism stomps all over the kind of people stuck doing menial labor, so what if they were unable to get away from work or they’d be fired? Hell, what if they couldn’t afford it for whatever reason – car broke down, they don’t have a phone or were out of data, they got hurt or sick or something came up that was interpreted by a small child as a lack of interest because he’s been shown that he doesn’t fully understand either adults’ motivations (all of S1) or the complexities of living in adult society, though he thinks he does (S1E4)?

Didn’t give him an activity: What if their grasp of English isn’t great? It’s a damn hard language to learn, and I sure as hell couldn’t pick up a second language if I was working to the bone to support my family. I’m exhausted trying to get through my 5 minutes of French on Duolingo, and I have a relatively cushy job and the benefit of an owl harassing me every few hours. Maybe they looked at the absurd camp activities and assumed they were misreading something, so they handed it over to their son (who is clearly fluent) to pick something he likes. Maybe they wanted to give him some responsibility and a sense of autonomy in deciding what he wanted to do for the summer, and he was so annoyed at being sent off to camp that he refused to do it and interpreted their hands-off nature as not caring. Maybe they were tired and just told him to pick something and it’s as simple as that, because parents are allowed to be exhausted sometimes. Just strikes me as pretty bizarre that they’d bother sending their son to a summer camp (and those things aren’t cheap, even one as not-awesome as Camp Campbell) but not be invested enough to give him the activity. Saving all year to scrape together enough money for a summer camp, sure, but filling out one line on a piece of paper? Pfft, who has time for that bullshit? 

(I recognize that assuming they’re poor based on a single line about “menial labor” might seem like a bit of a stretch to some people. But honestly, to me it’s no more of a stretch than assuming that they hate or don’t care about their son, or any of the other wild theories thrown around about Max’s parents all the dang time. At least this one is relatively new.) 

Sent him a sweatshirt and a short note: Again, maybe their written English isn’t great. Some people are better at a spoken language than a written one. Or maybe they didn’t have enough time to write a long note, or they knew Max wouldn’t read it (he doesn’t seem like the type to be all that into long emotional letters). Regardless, they knew to send him something he’d like that would likely be worn down by constant wear at camp. And sweatshirts aren’t cheap. Neither is mailing a package. Just seems like a surprising amount of effort to go to if they don’t care about or love him.

Sent him to Camp Campbell for the summer: Let’s say they’re poor, based on the evidence we have. It makes sense to assume that they work relatively “unskilled” jobs, or are in school, or both. Because those jobs don’t offer benefits or a lot of money, we can also reasonably assume that they either work multiple jobs, long hours, or both. They probably don’t have family in the area or even the country, and it wouldn’t be reasonable to expect neighbors or friends to take their son in all day, every day, all summer so he’s not home alone while they’re at work (especially considering he’s not all that easy to get along with). He’s familiar with the city (S3E11), so we can assume he’s grown up in an urban environment, which means he’s probably to some extent a latchkey kid. Sending him to a summer camp would get him out of the city, around people his own age, where he’d be supervised and kept busy while his parents are at work until school starts. Camps are expensive, but I imagine Camp Campbell might be the best they can afford, and they’d assume it’s better than him sitting in an empty apartment all day.

Max’s insistence they don’t care: He’s … ten years old. Not only has he made it clear that he assumes the worst of most people, including adults, but it’s also relatively common for kids whose parents worked a lot while they were growing up to interpret that busyness as a lack of interest in them. It’s hard to understand things like expenses or financial security as a kid and view it as “my parents are never around and so they don’t love me.” Hopefully when he’s older he’d appreciate everything they’ve sacrificed for him, but at 10 years old it’s expected he’d feel neglected.

I’m just saying, maybe a borderline emotionally unstable child isn’t the most reliable source, is all.

This isn’t rock solid, I realize; I’ve made a lot of leaps of logic and assumptions extrapolating from what we’ve been given. But I don’t see it as any less plausible than his parents hating him or whatever the prevailing fan theories are, and more importantly: it’s a fuck of a lot more interesting (yes, yes, in my opinion). I think adding nuance and sympathy to Max’s parents will always end up more interesting than “good David vs evil parents.”

Of course, we’re in a bit of a limbo since we don’t know necessarily where RT is going to take this. There is every chance they’re going to drop the bomb that Max’s parents are literally as bad as everyone has made them out to be – and worse. Maybe they’re actually Xemug. Fuck if I know. And if that happens, I’m gonna call it out for being the cheapest and least-interesting of the possible options. Bad, lazy writing that pits pure good against pure evil is always gonna suck, even if it comes from the writers of one of my favorite shows.

I really, really hope they don’t go with that (to finally, I guess, answer Anon’s question fully). And I’m pretty forgiving when it comes to things people hate CC for: Dolph doesn’t bother me, most of the problematic episodes don’t bother me (that pee one is still pretty rough though), but if they go the “Max’s parents are the devil and that is why Max is the way he is” route, I’m gonna … well, just be so profoundly disappointed that the showrunners could’ve done something interesting and decided instead to go for the lowest-hanging fruit, that’s all.

FINALLY:

3. This Fucking Fandom

So here’s the thing. Dad//vid is unique among the “ships” in the fandom in that it is deliberately placed as “the anti-Max//vid.” And I understand why that was done, and I appreciate it holding up that particular vanguard; max//vid has no place in dad//vid, and vice versa. 

But the problem with dad//vid being set up as the not-max//vid is that everything that isn’t dad//vid is suddenly viewed as “max//vid-lite.” Even when that makes literally zero sense.

See, even when I was briefly into dad//vid in its very literal “David adopts Max from Max’s evil parents” form, what I was really drawn to was the idea of David being Max’s older brother. Back when the fandom was like 100 fics on AO3, I had started planning out this long plot involving David taking on a brotherly role to this kid I thought really needed one. Admittedly I’m just a sucker for sibling relationships, but from the beginning I’ve been all about this brotherly bond, and so when a popular artist came up with the term “bro//vid” and it started gaining traction, I was all over that noise. There was finally a version of this relationship that wasn’t either “Max and David fucking” or “David literally adopts Max and becomes his literal father,” and I couldn’t be more excited.

And then … I found out that apparently “bro//vid” was becoming synonymous with “max//vid but secretly.” And … man, it really sucked to suddenly be treated like I was supporting pedophilia because I didn’t like the idea of David-adopts-Max as much as the whole big brother thing. I can’t even imagine how much it must suck if your favorite iteration of Max and David is something along the lines of mentor/friendship, without some sort of buffer of “well they’re basically (or literally) related.” Because if “these two as brothers” is max//vid-lite, then I can’t fucking imagine what that would be called.

And even when it’s not specifically about max//vid, it just keeps cropping up. I posted about the Season 4 premiere and expressed how much I saw a cute, brotherly relationship between David and Max, and someone immediately replied saying that they thought it was more like father-son. Which … yeah, fine, I don’t care if you see it like father-son, go nuts, but I am getting really sick of the fact that father-son is the only acceptable “ship” and everything must lean in that direction, no exceptions. (I know, it’s not a ship technically, but I don’t know what else to call it. Don’t read anything weird into me calling it that.)

I don’t think “please just let me enjoy these two and their relationship dynamic without making it pedophilia or insisting David adopt Max from his terrible evil parents” is that tough an ask. 

Or at least, it really shouldn’t be. But somehow it … kind of is.

And that sucks.

(Also, I hate the whole “Max is David’s favorite camper” thing. It’s not technically tied to dad//vid, but it does often come hand-in-hand with that and it just irks me to no end. If David has such blatant favorites, he is terrible at his job and kind of a douchebag. I think he gravitates towards the camper(s) who need attention the most, because he likes feeling like he’s made a difference, but I don’t think David would just straight-up pick a favorite like that, not when he has a full camp of kids who need him. Just saying.)

[wolf-555-writer]

Another One?

Here is- um... another one for Alex Danvers. Hope you enjoy it! ;)

Alex Danvers x Reader

Summary: Reader works as bartender at their Uncle’s Alien bar. You meet Alex during work as the bar is her regular spot. And… you obviously fall in love with her.

Word Count: 2,098

Gazing at the warm, cozy, crowded place, standing behind the wooden bar counter, you feel grateful. If it wasn’t for your Uncle you wouldn’t have a job in this new, terrifying, huge city where you moved to some weeks ago. It’s not something you expected to be doing at all, working in an Alien bar, but you love it, even though you just started. Casually leaning against the work table, having a moment of free time, you see a woman with blond hair and glasses cheerfully stride towards you.

“Hi! Another one?”, you politely suggest, remembering her order from earlier this evening. “Yes please! Can I actually have four of these?”, she gently responds, as you’re already reaching for the drinks while she pays. “May I ask? Are you new here? I haven’t noticed you here before”, she delicately continues, placing some money on the counter. “Yes! I’m new. I started working here last week as I just moved here”, you brightly answer since she seems friendly. “Ah, that’s great! My name is Kara Danvers and welcome to National City!”, she joyfully expresses, introducing herself to you. “Thank you, I’m (Y/N). It’s a pleasure meeting you. Here you go”, you respond while you’re handing Kara her cold beverages. “Thanks, you can keep the change!”, she mentions as she cautiously turns around. That's very sweet of her. You watch her walk towards a round table, apparently able to carry those four filled glasses with ease, and notice three other people seated there. But only one person in particular catches your undivided attention.

///

Hearing what seems to be a dispute between two people up front, you're pulled away from the task in the back, where you were busy stacking some heavy crates. As you hastily walk up towards the main bar area, you notice a woman with auburn hair color. She is, with a strict tone, interrogating an alien customer who's seated on a barstool. You immediately recognize her. She visits this place often, mostly with the blond woman you know as Kara Danvers. And of course you have a slight crush on her, I mean... just look at her. While you were standing there, speechless and staring at her with dreamy eyes, she suddenly smashed the alien's head on the hardwood counter. As a reaction you flinch, eyes widening. 

“What the hell just happened!? Was that necessary?”, you debate, while quickly marching up to them, since you don't want this to escalate any further. Honestly, this bar is a safe place for aliens. Positioning yourself right in front of them, reaching out to interfere, it kind of did escalate as you promptly end up in the crossfire. A filled glass is shattered to pieces due to the alien's violent outbreak and it scatters around, chunks flying everywhere. Unfortunately, some sharp, broken glass shards end up in your extended arm. It happened rather unexpected so there was no time to evade the fast moving fragments anymore. You avert your eyes to inspect the damage, bending the arm towards you.

“Shit…”, you painfully exclaim as the woman is now gazing at you, her beautiful brown eyes overflowing with guilt. “S-sorry… I-I can help you remove those if you want?”, she carefully proposes because she feels terribly responsible for what just happened.  

Seated on a large crate, you're back in the stockroom again. The sleeve of your right arm completely rolled up.

“My name is Alex by the way, Alex Danvers”, she introduces while she walks towards you, carrying some bandages and other medical supplies. “I'm really sorry about all of this. I needed information for a case I'm working on. For -eh, the FBI.”, she explains as she's currently examining your wounds. “Wait- Danvers? So, Kara Danvers is your sister?”, you swiftly puzzled together. “Oh, eh, I'm (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”, eyes highly fixed on Alex her movements. 

“Beautiful name”, she softly answers, while focused on removing the remaining splinters of glass embedded in your skin. “And yes, Kara is my sister, you've already met her I see?”, she chuckles. “Yes, I-”, you’re interrupted by an electrifying pain, quickly radiating through your arm, causing you to lightly groan. Alex just removed the largest and last piece, leaving a nasty cut as a little blood seeps out. “Sorry, but this is also gonna sting”, she announces, her voice laced with sympathy. She still needs to clean and disinfect the wounds. “Okay, let's get it over with”, you firmly state while you close your eyes and clench your teeth forcefully. Still holding up the sleeve, bracing yourself for that unpleasant burning sensation. “Ok, here it goes”.

As Alex is cleaning up after, you slowly roll down your sleeve. Carefully covering your bandaged skin while noticing some blood stains on your shirt. “I'm really sorry about all of this”, she apologizes again since she also noticed the red spots. “No worries. It's not that bad. I mean, I'll live”, you joke, seeing her expression change from shame to relieve right away. “I actually have to go now, I'm already running late, so... till next time then?”

“Yeah, guess I'll be seeing you around, Alex Danvers”, you keenly respond. Noticing a small grin appear on her face while she turns to the doorway. You watch her walk away, not feeling the pain for a minute because it feels like you’re weightless. No gravity pulling as if you’re temporary floating. Alex Danvers has caused all kinds of warm emotions to rush through your body. You’re heating up, while sensing a weird, yet pleasant feeling igniting in your stomach. Never having felt like this before, being totally amazed by her stunning appearance.

From this day onward when she visits the bar, which is rather frequent by the way, she always takes the time to make a chat with you while you're working. Without a doubt looking forward to this moment as it lights up your day, every single time.

///

Cleaning some used, dirty glasses due to your shift being almost over you delightfully watch Alex, patiently waiting for you to play some pool as you most often do. You avert your eyes to your Uncle, who's scrubbing the bar counter spotless. With your most hopeless, desperate, sad facial expression you stare at him. “Again?”, he sighs, whereas he quickly nods, giving you full permission. Only reason he probably lets you go is because he knows how happy Alex makes you.

“Ready to get your ass kicked again Danvers?”, you confidently joke while you've reached the pool table. “You do know that I let you win last time, right?”. “Wait- you did what?”. Alex laughs as she prepares the game. Slight disappointment that you didn’t actually beat her is already overtaken by happiness when you hear her goofy laugh, causing a subtle grin to appear. It doesn’t matter that she let you win. It also doesn’t matter that you lose the game every other time since Alex is far more better at playing pool than you are. It doesn’t matter, because you feel extremely lucky. Thinking you would have never met her if it wasn't for that little accident. Or for your Uncle. Or if you would not have moved to National City at all. 

You were pulled from your thoughts, perceiving aggressive shouting noises, becoming louder and louder. Averting your eyes to the entrance to check what’s causing it when all of a sudden the door slams open, forcefully, causing the nearby glass windows to shake. A couple of people with shiny golden masks covering their faces are as of now barging in, yelling loudly, pushing chairs away and breaking other things. 

They're better known as the Children of Liberty. Well-aware of their existence and their negative opinions on aliens, you stand there. Completely frozen, unable to move, as you have no idea what to do. You watch them viciously attack the aliens that were still in the bar while the situation quickly intensifies. Alex has already taken action and engages, knocking down the disturbers, being totally fearless. Supergirl also joined the fight, now posed next to Alex, offering each other backup. “Where the hell did she come from?”, you think as you had seen her flying inside, appearing out of nowhere.  

Now one of them marches up to you, barbarously shouting at you: “Are you also one of them!? Are you a cockroach!?”. Staggered by his yelling, you can’t seem to produce an answer and freeze, again. It’s taking him too long for you to react, so he decides to take a swing at you. Luckily, you duck in time, evading the blow since you had rapidly snapped out of your paralyzed state. Instinctively, you try to punch him back. It's a hard left hook, colliding with his face, while turning your whole body to provide the extra punching power needed. But it hurts… like a lot. You stupidly forgot he was wearing a gold-coloured, metal mask. Which now meets your balled fist as you knock it off his face. Ouch… definitely gonna end up with bruised, hurtful knuckles later, definitely...

Not shortly after you had landed that hook, the police arrived, expertly arresting the aggressive troublemakers. So you noticed in the corner of your eye while painfully shaking your left hand. Fortunately, there is no time to hit you back because the guy now starts running, fast, hoping he can escape law enforcement. But, of course, he's not as fast as Supergirl. So, jokes on him, being uncomfortably struck to the ground. Face pushed into the dirty floor, as he was easily captured by the heroine.

After the raging event, everything had settled down again. Officers are currently taking statements from the eyewitnesses that were in the bar, including your Uncle. You're leaning against the pool table, painfully looking at your left hand when Alex walks up to you, finished with her conversation with Supergirl. 

“Come on, let me put some ice on that for you”, Alex caringly offers since she had already examined the injury. You and Alex step behind the bar counter where she grabs a small towel and some ice cubes. “You've got a mean left there (Y/N)”, Alex grins, complimenting your fighting skills. “Yeah... I kinda regret doing that. It hurts like hell”, you painfully answer, maybe exaggerating a little. “Here, put this on. To suppress the swelling”. 

Gladly accepting the improvised cold-pack, you're as of now noticing how close you're to Alex since there is not much space behind the bar. Turning your head away from the injured hand, you stare at her with all of your desire, desperately longing for her. Trying to stay cool, but it’s not really working as you feel your heartbeat rapidly pounding in your chest. Suddenly your eyes meet, now deeply staring into her beautiful brown ones. You both stay silent. It seems like time stood still because all the noise and voices around you had vanished. The space between you two becomes less and less, slowly moving closer, both tilting your head a little. Eventually, your lips tenderly touch. Easing in this magical, loving moment of affection while satisfyingly closing your eyes. Moving your warm bodies even closer together when kissing each other.    

Your sensual kiss was miserably interrupted as you -not so cleverly- pushed the just cleaned glasses from the bar counter while moving your hands to Alex her hips. In the heat of the moment, right? The glasses had fallen onto the solid floor. Hearing a loud fracturing noise while glass shattered to pieces which, sadly, made you pull apart. All eyes are now fixed on you and Alex. With Alex her soft hands still on your cheeks as you look up. You notice your Uncle giving you that approving nod again. But also someone else. A very, very enthusiastic, wide smile on their face, once seeing you and Alex totally making out with each other. It's Supergirl. Weird... why would she be so thrilled about this? So happy? Does she know Alex that good, almost...  personally? 

Anyways... everyone in the bar is still staring at you two, quite unashamed, making you whisper: "Ok... can this become any more awkward…?", with a face turning quickly bright red as a ripe tomato. But Alex doesn’t care. She doesn’t care what all the staring people in the bar think. She only cares about this moment. This tender moment with you. Instantly craving your touch and soft lips again. She had already turned your head back towards her, gently with her hands. Still embracing you as she passionately gives you another one. 

[shewhowantsmouseears]

If you’re still taking requests, something from the weblena red riding hood au?

Sorry this took forever and a half to get to. Decided to go with “first meeting”!

If things had ever gone easy in Lena'slife, well, she doubted it would be her life at all – nothing hadever gone easy for her from the moment she was born, even when shemade every effort to be lazy and slide through difficult situations.Sometimes she wondered if she had a past life where she did somethingso bad that she had to make up for it in this one – it was easierto think that, then believe she was hated and ostracized for no goodreason at all, as if her very existence was a curse upon the pack.

She thought about this now as she stoodin the tree, looking down at the innocent villager who was casuallystrolling through the dark woods. Lena had yet to take a life, whichwas one of many things the pack leader, her aunt, criticized herover. But now here was the perfect victim in Lena's clutches – alittle girl, probably younger than Lena herself, all alone andlooking like she couldn't hurt a fly. If Lena couldn't chow down onthis delicate flower, maybe her next life would be screwed up too.She moved along the tree branch, inspecting her future meal.

The little girl suddenly stopped,blinked, and then looked right in Lena's direction. Looking back atthis moment later, Lena would realize this was the first sign thatthe little girl was more than she appeared, but here and now sheassumed she must have made some sound she didn't notice. Fine by her– stealth had never been her specialty. So she took a jump, landinga good distance away from the other girl, and then calmly brushedherself down, as if not having noticed anyone at all.

The little girl, dressed in a red hoodand holding a wicker basket in her tiny hands, raised her eyebrows.“You're a wolf!”

“A+ detective skills there, chief.”Lena replied, inspecting her claws. “You're in the woods. What wereyou expecting?”

The girl glanced up, mentally debatingthis, then nodded once. “Well, I wouldn't like any trouble today,miss wolf. I'm going to my Granny's house. I've got some stuff todeliver – pastries, breads, jams, those funny cheeses that smellbad but taste good-”

“Tell me your whole life story whileyou're at it.” Lena replied, rolling her eyes.

“Oh, okay, um, my name is WebbigailVanderquack, but my granny calls me Webby, and I was born on a sunnyday in the middle of-” She stopped abruptly, holding up a finger.“Ah. Sarcasm. I have not mastered that yet. Sorry.”

Lena wasn't a master killer like therest of the pack, but she could pick up clues when she wanted – andthis Webby was clearly in desperate need of companionship, someone totalk to, even if it was a complete stranger and a wolf. She continuedto look and clean her claws, putting on an air of boredom. “Yourgranny must be pretty important if you're traveling through the woodsfor her.”

The hook worked, and Webby lit up likea campfire. “Oh, Granny's the best! I haven't seen her in ages, butshe's nice and warm and has taught me a whole bunch of stuff and Ireally hope she likes the stuff I'm bringing...” She trailed off,realizing how much of a delay this chitchat was making. “Speakingof, I'd probably better get going, she might get worried if I'm notthere on time.”

“Go for it,” Lena said, not oncelooking up. “If those pastries are all you're going to bringher.”

Webby had made it two steps beforestopping glancing back, surprised. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“Hm?” Only now did Lena lookWebby's way, as if none of this had been intentional at all. “Oh,well, I was just thinking... eh, what do I know? I'm just a wolf.”She shrugged, and began to walk in the opposite direction.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Webby jogged upto her side, and upon closer inspection, Lena could see that thisgirl had big eyes, wide as saucers and full of naive innocence.“What's wrong with bringing my Granny this stuff? It's what shelikes.” Yet even as she tried to defend herself, her voice betrayedher worry, fingers nervously squeezing the basket's handle.

Lena clicked her tongue and exhaleddeeply. “Well...” She drew out the word, testing Webby'spatience. “If I was bringing a gift to someone I cared about, Iwouldn't just get them something anyone in the village could gettheir hands on. Me? I'd add a little something special, something noteveryone could get.”

Webby frowned, brows furrowed. “Likewhat?”

The wolf gestured to a darker path downin the woods. “There is this special patch of the most beautifulwildflowers that most villagers don't even know about. Completelygorgeous, if you're into that sort of thing.”

And judging from Webby's interest, hereyes widening and sparks of imagination fluttering within, she wasvery much into that sort of thing. Yet there was still a beat ofhesitance, as she took a look back where she'd been originallywalking towards. “I don't know...” She said quietly, biting downfor half a second. “Granny told me to never stray from the path ifI've got a destination.”

“Suit yourself.” Lena began walkingon again. “Shame that your Granny doesn't really trust you to takecare of yourself.”

Hook, line, sinker – Webby wasimmediately at Lena's side again. “She trusts me! She taught meeverything she knows! She wouldn't let me go into the woods at all ifshe didn't trust me!”

Lena almost felt sorry for how easilyWebby was made into a mark. It was a wonder she lived this long amongregular people, who Lena knew would betray one another for a singlecoin. Maybe if was for Webby's own good she'd be snuffed out earlybefore someone worse came along. “Hey, that's great. It's reallynot that far ahead, and picking a few flowers will just take a coupleof seconds. You'll be seeing your Granny before sunset.”

Webby relaxed a little, and flashed acute smile that Lena was certain would win the hearts of man andwoman alike once she got older – though maybe it did a handy jobfor the boys and girls of now anyway.

At the very least, Lena had told thetruth about the path of wildflowers – it was big, beautiful andspacious, resting underneath golden sunlight and creating a field ofrainbows on blissful days like these. Lena often used this patch as agood spot to nap, away from the pack and all its troubles. It seemeda sin to taint such a lovely place with her upcoming crime, but allgood things must come to an end. Lena was supposed to grow up and bea real wolf, one that didn't care for flowers and beauty and only didwhat was good for the pack.

Webby let out a gasp and a squeal atthe same time, which Lena found odd but hilarious. “OH MY GOSH ITREALLY IS PRETTY!” She dove right into the patch, giggling wildlyas she ran her fingers over soft petals and new smells. She kneltdown and placed her basket aside, hands wiggling as she struggled todecide what to talk. “Granny's going to love these!” But beforeshe plucked a single one, she placed her hands on her lap and turnedher head back enough to flash another sweet little smile. “Thanks,miss wolf!”

Lena blinked rapidly, the word soforeign it took a good minute to understand what had been said –wolves never thanked one another, they merely obeyed and it wasunderstood. “Oh. Uh. Yeah, sure, whatever.” Webby turned herattention back to the flowers, and Lena ran a hand down her face.This kid was too nice for her own good. She trusted a wolf? Thanked awolf? Maybe this Granny had sent out Webby to get killed, and Lenadidn't think this was unusual at all. People betrayed people all thetime for their own needs and wants, and family didn't make a lick ofdifference.

Webby had begun humming a simplemelody, deciding to tie together flowers of different colorstogether. Lena wiped her mouth with the back of her arm, settlinginto her choice. Sorry, Red she thought to herself. Survivalof the fittest out here. One good chomp to the neck would endthings quickly, and she slowly, quietly, began to advance upon Webby,her claws sharp in the sunlight, fangs glistening. Webby had one handon the flower crown, the other reaching into the basket, probablygrabbing a quick bite to eat, if Lena had to guess. She hoped Webbyenjoyed her last meal, and raised one hand high, ready to seize her -

Only to find a butterfly knife ever soserenely placed against her throat, Webby holding it to Lena'sthrobbing vein without looking back. “Maybe if you hadlistened to my life story,” Webby said, her voice never losing anysugar or honey, “You'd realize I wasn't born yesterday, miss wolf.”

[ive-got-99-problems]

In The Woods (Rocket x OC)

Max, the hunters, and the characters in the town, the rest belong to Marvel! <3

The art is also done by me.

Whose ready for a long chapter?

------ Chapter 9, Fireflies ------ He still suffered from the dreams that night but was immediately comforted when he awoke with Max by his side, her arms wrapped tightly around him, keeping him protected from the outside world. He would often wake up before falling asleep again and by nine am he was tired of it and decided to get up. He gently pushed himself away from Max, her arms heavy on his waist. He froze when she began to stir, but instead of waking up she just moved her arm so she was grabbing onto her pillow instead of Rocket.

Rocket sighed in relief and jumped off the bed before making his way to the bathroom. He quickly took a shower and dried himself off, his fur standing on end as he tried to brush them down. He then made his way to the kitchen and went ahead a grabbed two bowls of cereal, he knew Max would be up soon so he might as well get her breakfast ready too. It wasn’t long after pouring the milk in when he heard footsteps approaching, he looked up to see Max.

She was still in her pajamas, or at least what Rocket hoped was her pajamas. It was a maroon-colored oversized T-shirt that hung over her lower thigh and her hair was a tangled mess. She stretched her arms out, causing her shirt to ride up which made Rocket instinctively look away.

“Morning Rocket,” she yawned, “Did you sleep any better?”

“Yeah, thanks,” he muttered as he passed her the bowl.

“Thank you,” she whispered before taking a bite, she looked up at him. He still was avoiding her gaze as he ate, she frowned, debating if she should even bother taking. “I missed you this morning.”

Rocket furrowed his brow and looked up at her, “What do you mean?”

Max looked down at her bowl, a light blush misting her cheeks, “When I woke up, I uh, I missed see you next to me.”

Rocket’s cheeks darkened into a deep red, his gaze snapping away, “O-Oh,” was all he could manage to say.

Max looked up at him, trying to read his face and see if she had made him uncomfortable. He didn’t seem to be too phased by the comment so she just ignored it.

“Hey, so I was wondering, maybe we could go hiking today?”

“Hiking?”

“Yeah, you know, walking around the woods and exploring?”

Rocket winced, “Eh I don’t know Maxie.”

A shiver ran down Max’s spine as he said her name, she always loved it when he called her that. “Come on Rocket, it’ll be fun and we don’t have to stay out for long if you don’t want to.”

Rocket was silent for a moment, debating if this was a good idea or not.

“Ah fuck it,” he breathed before turning to her, “Yeah, alright, we can go hiking.”

Max smiled big and let out a tiny squeal before rushing back to her bedroom, “Alright, let me just get ready!”

“Um, do you want to finish your cereal?”

“No I’m alright, thank you!”

Rocket couldn’t help but laugh at her excitement, it had been a while since he’d been as excited as her. He cleaned out their bowls as Max got ready, quickly dashing back and forth from her bedroom, to the bathroom, to the closet, and then into the kitchen.

“Let’s see, let’s see, am I forgetting anything?” She questioned as she tapped her lip with her pointer finger.

“The kitchen sink?” Rocket snarked as he saw the large backpack she had beside her feet, “You sure you’ll be able to carry that?”

“Huh, oh yeah, I do it all the time,” she said with a wave of her hand and a smile on her face, “Let me just get us some water and then we’ll be off!”

Rocket felt bad letting Max be the one to carry such a large backpack up all the hills, but when he offered to carry something she just waved him off.  They walked alongside the creek before crossing it when they came across a series of rocks that formed a natural bridge. Rocket was never really a nature person, Groot was more than enough nature for him. But he did have to admit, the fresh air, the chirping of birds, and the light breeze were very nice.

"I wonder if we'll find any of your family out here?"

Rocket cocked his head in confusion before finally realizing what she had meant, "Haha, very funny," he spoke sarcastically with a roll of his eyes.

She laughed, "Have you ever been face to face with a raccoon before?"

"Yeah I have, it was somethin, I honestly don't get why Quill calls me that all the time, I don't even really look like 'em."

"Whose Quill?"

Rocket froze for a moment, his sudden quietness causing Max to stop and turn to him.

"Rocket, what's wrong?" She asked as her face contorted into a worried expression.

"It's uh, it's nothin Maxie, Quill was just someone I knew long ago," was all he could say before walking past her.

She frowned and followed behind him, walking in silence for a few minutes before she decided to try and lighten the mood, "You're right about the raccoon thing, you're too handsome to be a raccoon."

Rocket froze, his face darkening, "I um, t-thanks."

She smiled, a strange thrill coursing through her veins as she caught him off guard. "Come on, we should keep moving."

Rocket slowly nodded, was she giving him hints, did she actually have a thing for him? Rocket's mind raced for what felt like hours as they walked, the possibility of someone liking him seemed so outrageous, especially when it came to a human. His mind started to wander with what-ifs, like what if she actually did like him and he decided to stay here with her? What if they settled down and started a family, oh God, what would the kids look like?!

Rocket stopped with an 'oof' as he bumped into Max's leg, she was staring off into the distance.

"Maxie, what's wrong?"

"Shh," was all she said as she held her hand in front of him, signaling him to stay.

Rocket frowned, his ears twitching as he tried to strain his ears to hear something. He was so distracted with his thoughts that he missed the laughter that ran out through the forest. He looked over Max's leg and froze, it was the hunters. Max started to back away slowly, praying to God that they wouldn't notice them. She began walking backward and Rocket didn't realize it, he yelped out in pain as she stepped onto his foot.

She jumped off and Rocket fell to the ground quickly sliding under the brush as the hunters become aware of her presence. They all turned to her, they're guns drawn, only to become less defensive when they realized it was just some girl.

"Jesus kid, don't scare us like that, could've blown your head off," the one laughed as he holstered his gun.

Max laughed nervously as the other men began to do the same, "Sorry, I didn't think anyone else would be out here."

Her body was tense, none of the hunters really worrying her expect one, the one from the grocery store.

"What're you doin out here all by yourself?" The same man from before questioned, "You huntin, hikin?"

"Uh, hiking, just thought I'd come out and get some fresh air. What uh, what're you guys doing?"

He shrugged, "Just huntin, hangin out, y'know that type of thing."

"How's that raccoon of yours?" The man from the store questioned.

The men turned to look at him and then Max, "You got a raccoon?"

"Yeah, brown one, wears a red scarf."

Fear started to seep into Max and Rocket could tell, he was starting to worry about her safety. He didn't remember seeing her pick up her gun, so it was more than likely she was defenseless. He thankfully had his but he didn't want to forever scar her for killing a group of humans in front of her, even then she could still get hurt if he did that.

"Oh, he's fine, I left him home today, didn't want him wandering off."

The men stared at her for a second, the main hunter furrowing his brow as he stared at her, "Red scarf huh?"

"Y-Yeah, he loves that thing, has always carried it around since he was just a baby."

The hunter nodded slowly, sucking his teeth as he pulled out his knife and looked at it, "Ya know kid, lots of weird shit has been happenin over the past couple of years, more strange things like space ships landing over in the Avengers base, aliens comin from holes in the sky, people turning to ash, talkin raccoons, lots of weird shit."

"Talking raccoons?" She scoffed, "I mean, aliens are one thing but talking raccoons?"

The hunters didn't seem to be amused by her jokes, "Guys gotta make a livin kid, aliens cost a fortune, if you know anythin, it'd be wise to tell us."

She frowned, "Why would I know anything? All I do is hunt, fish, and-"

"Fish?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"You wouldn't have happened to see anything while fishing, have you?" Another hunter questioned.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, "No, I haven't, now I need to be getting going-"

"You're Jack's kid, right?"

Max turned sharply to look at the man from the grocery store, she glared at him, "Yeah, so what?"

"I knew your dad, he was a good man, did whatever he could to take care of you. Even if it meant killing some innocent creatures."

Max's face started to redden, "You know nothing about my father, he was never like any of you assholes."

"You sure, why do you think your mom left?"

"Because she was a bitch," her voice became hoarse, "My family affairs aren't any of your goddamn business anyway!"

Rocket stared up at her, her face was red and tears started to prick her eyes. Rocket had enough, he pulled out his gun and shot the man in the shoulder, the forest was loud with yelling as the other hunters rushed to grab their guns while others tended to the injured man. Max picked Rocket up from the bush and started to run deeper into the trees, a few of the hunters following.

"What were you thinking, Rocket!?"

"Had to get you out somehow!"

"By fucking shooting a guy?!"

Rocket lept out of her arms and tumbled to the ground, Max stopped to stare as he stood to his feet and shook off the leaves and dirt.

"Oh, I'm sorry, next time I'll be sure to stand aside and let them fuck with you," he snarled.

They turned to look back as the men shouted, informing the others that they had Max and Rocket in their sights. Max growled and grabbed a hold of Rocket's hand and started running down the incline.

"I had it handled."

"Oh yeah,  yelling at a guy with a gun is handling it."

"It's better than just straight-up shooting the bastard!"

Suddenly the ground below them fell out beneath them and they began to tumble down a steep incline, they kept rolling for what felt like ages before Max slammed into a tree and Rocket rolled to a complete stop. He sat there paralyzed for a few minutes as he heard the men yelling, the leaves that he and Max rolled along must've covered their bodies enough for the hunters to not see them. Once the forest fell into silence and Rocket stood up and shook off the leaves.

"Fuck, Maxie, that was close," he sighed as he brushed off the rest of the leaves. He frowned when he didn't hear a response, "Maxie?"

He looked over to see her sitting up against the tree, blood slowly oozing from the side of her forehead.

"Fuck, Max, are you-"

"I'm fine," she muttered as she pulled away from him.

Fear began to rise in Rocket, he quickly began to search for her discarded backpack. When he finally found it he dug through it and pulled out the first aid kit and a bottle of water. When he returned to her and tried to put a bandage on her head she pushed him away again.

"Rocket, I said I'm fine, it's just a scratch."

"I don't care, I-"

"Rocket!" She snapped as she glared at him, "Leave me alone!"

Rocket backed away from her, taken aback from her sudden outburst.

"I just want to go home," she said, her words softened as she looked at the ground, it almost sounded like she was going to cry.

Rocket shook his head, "Fine, fine, let's just go home."

Rocket remained quiet as Max put on her backpack, she didn't even look at him when she passed by. Rocket followed her close by, his ears constantly twitching as he listened for the hunters. While he was listening he watched Max, her frame slouched and her hair constantly falling into her eyes. Rocket began to get worried as the sun started to set and their surroundings weren't looking any familiar, though he didn't want to make Max more upset by questioning her.

"Shit," he heard her whisper as she suddenly stopped and pressed her hand to her head, "We need to stop for a second."

"What's wrong?"

"The bleeding is getting worse," she mumbled as she shrugged off her backpack.

"Here, you rest, I'll get the bandage," Rocket said as he opened her backpack.

She sat down with a huff, her arms wrapping around her legs as she watched him. She looked tired and upset, her vision passing through him as she went deep into thought. Rocket approached her slowly, gently cleaning off the wound before putting the bandage on.

"You ok?" He questioned, his eyes flicking down to hers.

"Yeah, I just, I just can't stop thinking about what that asshole said."

"About your dad killing animals? I mean, you do that same thing-"

"He wasn't talking about normal animals Rocket, he was talking about you."

Rocket tensed up, "O-Oh, I uh, didn't realize that."

She shook her head, "My dad would never do that, and the shit about my mom, he has some fucking nerve bringing that up."

"He was just trying to get to you, Max," Rocket sighed, "It's hard to ignore but you have to try." She just hummed and gave a shrug, a small smile slowly forming on Rocket's face, "Bet you're glad I shot him now, aren't ya?"

She laughed, "Maybe a little."

He smiled before sitting next to her with a sigh. The sun was slowly setting, Rocket knew they should keep walking but his legs refused to let him stand. His eyes snapped to the side when he saw a small light flicker, and then another, and then another. Soon small lights started to flicker all around them, Max staring up at them as they fluttered by.

"Fireflies," she whispered, her brow furrowing, "They shouldn't be out this time of year."

"Guess the guy was right about the weird shit."

She let out an amused scoff, "Yeah, guess he was."

They both stared up into the night, watching as the fireflies slowly drift around them.

"I used to catch fireflies with my dad when I was little, we'd keep them in jars and light up the porch with them."

"Sounds like you had a lot of good times with your dad."

She smiled, "I did."

Her smile caused him to smile too, the light of the fireflies casting a soft glow onto her face. His eyes locked onto her soft skin as she looked up into the evening sky.

"What about you?" She questioned as she turned to him, "What did you use to do with your family?"

Rocket frowned, "Oh, I um, I didn't do much, Quill used to listen to a lot of music and shit. Groot liked to dance to it."

"Groot?"

Rocket grimaced at the name, actually hearing his name sent him into tears. Rocket tried to hold it back but after avoiding the heartbreak for as long as he had, he couldn't hold back anymore. He let out a sob, resting his face into his hands. Max's eyes widened as she watched him break down, she rested her hands on his back.

"Rocket, are you ok?"

"Y-Yeah, I-I," he paused to let out a cry, "Groot-Groot was, he was my best friend, and I failed him!" He sobbed as he curled into himself.

"Oh, Rocket," Max sighed as she pulled him into a tight embrace, "Rocket, you didn't let him down, you didn't let anyone down."

"No, no, I did, I-" he hiccuped, "He died and I was supposed to take care of his son, my son! And he's gone, I should've done more, I should've treated him better, I-"

"Rocket, you need to calm down, you did nothing wrong. You couldn't have stopped whatever happened in New York, no one could, we just have to move on," her own voice beginning to break, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for what you're feeling Rocket, you didn't let him down, he'd understand what happened and he'd be proud of you for taking care of his son."

Rocket cried into Max's shirt, it beginning to stain with tears and snot as he gripped onto it. In the back of his mind, he knew she was right, he knew that Groot would've been proud at how much Rocket had opened himself up to the team and to others, that he would've been proud to see him take care of baby Groot and that he would've understood why Rocket couldn't have saved him. But the pain was too much, the pain of losing everyone again was too much for Rocket, he needed this, he needed to let out the pain.

[youreallyshouldtalkmore]

Your Best Nightmare_M’Baku version

Look, I rarely give disclaimers and such but because of the nature of this fanfic, I will say that if the idea of an of our Wakandan husbands as psycho stalker serial killers bother you then this isn’t the fanfic for you. I have plenty of lighter fanfics or even supernatural related fanfics if you aren’t interested in a walk on the dark side. This is about as dark as I’m gonna get this season…

The M’Baku version of the Your Best Nightmare series….

(Tie-in Prologue, if you missed it....)  

Tags: @chaneajoyyy​ 

“Ahh, you’re awake....”

You jumped and twisted to see a man exit silently from the kitchen doorway.  His large frame dwarf the doorway. You see that he was wearing all black, blending in with the shadows. All the jewelry that he wore was the only color in the darkness. He reached up to his mouth with a fork and it took you a moment to realize he was eating a plate of your leftover dinner. The clinging his jewelry as he moved made your wince seemingly loud to your ears.

He lifted the plate when he saw your gaze on it, “I would have microwaved it but I didn’t want to disturb you. Even cold, it’s good. You cook great vegetarian as I had hoped.  This is good.” He took another bite, “I’m glad to know my chosen lady is mindful of what goes into her body. I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

He dropped his gaze back to the plate of food in his hands.

“How...how’d you get in here? Who are you?” you demanded harshly once the shock wore off and you took a step back realizing he was a bit too close and intimidating.

He lifted his gaze with a grin and jerked his chin behind him, “Through the door. How else would I enter?” He took another bite.

“You don’t have the key! I locked the door”, you cried incredulously.

The man gave a lazy rippled of a shrug as he swallowed, “That’s what lock picking is for.”  

You just stared at him. Was he serious?

“Hmm!! Y/N, this is so good, you must give me the recipe. I do feel as though it needs something but that just could be heat. No worries, you are a wonderful cook, my lady.”

You were still in a bit of a daze as your emotions couldn’t seem to settle on anything as you asked, “Why are you here? What do you want?”

The man grinned at you, “Honestly, I’ve come to give you your best nightmare.”

You blinked, “Don’t you mean my worst nightmare?” you asked.

M’Baku laughed, “No….I know what I said and I meant it. I’ve come to give my lady her best nightmare.”  

You opened your mouth and then closed it. After a moment you opened it and said, “That doesn’t make any sense….”

A part of you was aware that that is not the time to get into debates on the usage of the English language with an intruder in your apartment. Here you had this intruder up in your apartment eating your food as if this was commonplace!!

There your emotions finally settled on something and it was anger.

You snapped, “Nigga, I know you ain’t up in my house, eating my food!!”

The man stopped eating, comically pausing so the fork was halfway in his mouth, “I was hungry. I know my lady wouldn’t allow me to go hungry, would she?”

“Yes, I would cause I don’t know you.”

The man lowered his fork to the plate, “That’s not nice, Y/N. You shouldn’t wish starvation on no man.”

You gasped. How did this man know your name?

He continued, “Although you might not know me, I know you. I know how you take care of yourself. I know how you try to eat the right things, reason why you are a vegetarian. You go to the gym at least twice a week. You like to do yoga in the comfort of your own home when it’s peaceful and quiet.”

You took another step back and asked smally, “How’d….how’d you know all that?”

“M’Baku….”

“Pardon?”

“My name...it’s M’Baku. You should at least know the name of your guest, don’t you think?” He chuckled.

Something caught in the corner of your eye and you remembered your phone on the table next to the couch. You chuckled airily calculating in your head. You could grab the phone, dial 911 drop it and run into the other kitchen exit. Given that he would follow you you could make it through the kitchen to the door.

Assuming you could outrun this man.

Or fake the phone in here and then run into the kitchen phone that was cordless, take that phone and get out while trying to dial 911.

A rumble interrupted your calculations, “If you want to call 911, you can….”

Your head snapped up to see the man gaze firmly on your plate as he continued to eat. And to make matters worse he was standing between you and the door.  He didn’t look up as he waved his fork at you once before stabbing another bite of food, “It won’t get through. I cut the lines.”

Would you actually believe him?

He seemed to be reading your mind because he looked up, “Go ahead and check. I want to finish this last morsel. My mama always told me that a gentleman's finishes his plate.” He grinned before looking back at the plate to finish.

Meanwhile, you took his distraction and darted over to the phone and pulled it off the hook only for it to come almost flying into your face.

M’Baku chuckled, “Don’t hit yourself in your face, ifemi (my love).”

You dropped the phone on the couch and ran around to the other kitchen doorway. You skidded to a stop when you saw that instead of following you as you hoped, M’Baku had walked back a couple of paces and was leaning backwards to look at you.

He took a bite of your food and raised an eyebrow, “Are you done?”

You swallowed thickly, your eyes darting to the kitchen phone. True to his word, the kitchen phone cord was also cut.

Apparently you were no threat as M’Baku straightened disappearing from view as the wall hid him. You heard his voice as it floated through the wall, “I love playing games, Y/N but now is not the time. I hate to wake the neighbors. A good 7-10 hours of sleep is a must for good health, don’t you think? We don’t want them to get anything less. They might become ill. Especially the elderly around here….”

You froze as your thoughts turned to Mrs. Ginger, your elderly neighbor. He knew about your neighbor? You shuddered to think what this psycho would do do her.  You didn’t want to involve anyone else in this building.

The scraping of your plate seemed loud and finally M’Baku came back into view stepping into the kitchen to put the plate in the sink. You stared as he turned on the tap water and got some soap on your washcloth. It took you a moment to realize he was actually washing his dish.

This intruder was actually watching his dish!!

You froze in a stupor.

“M’Baku…”

It took you a moment to realize he had said something, “Eh?”

He didn’t look up from his dish, “I have yet to hear you say my name.”

You stared at him. Apparently you stared so long that M’Baku looked up with a frown. His laughing eyes had gone flat as he paused with your dish in midair going to the faucet to be washed, “Y/N….I know you heard me. Don’t make me ask again.”

You swallowed and finally spoke, “M’Baku…..”

At his name, you saw the grin break out over his face, “Sounds as sweet as I had hope from your lips, my lady.”

Turning back to his dish, he rinsed it off and placed it in the drainer with the rest of your dishes before grabbing a paper towel to wipe his hands.

Once done he turned to you, “A gentleman should wash the dish he used, especially as a guest. It’s good manners don’t you think?”

M’Baku leaned on the kitchen sink with one hand and continued, “Now that you are calm, we can talk. I know it’s late or early depending on your view”, here he chuckled, “But I had to come see you.”

“At 3 in the morning?”

He grinned, “I couldn’t wait anymore. I wanted to begin our relationship.”

You bristled, “Relationship? What relationship? We don’t have a relationship. I don’t know you and you don’t know me.”

M’Baku gave a lazy shrug as he pushed off the sink and stood straight, “That isn’t strictly true, ifemi (my love).  Perhaps you don’t know me but I know you.” His voice went husky as he looked over your form, “And I hope tonight we would get acquainted with each other.” You saw him breath, his dark eyes locking yours eerily, “Because I’ve known you for weeks….”

You were silent a moment as his words filtered through your brain, “Weeks?”

M’Baku was silent as his dark eyes bored into yours.  You had to think about his words a moment longer. Weeks? What did he mean? You’ve never seen him before and he’s acting like he has seen you.

Suddenly a light bulb went on and you turned to him. You straighten your back, lowering your arms to ball your hands into fists, “Wait...were you the one that has been watching me all this time?”

M’Baku busted out in laughter, “Very good. Very good. You caught on.”

You growled, “Why?”

“Can you blame me? Look at you. I have clearly chosen well. All that fire.” He took another step closer to your as his voice dipped, “I hope…... you burn me with that tonight.”

You ignored every innuendo that statement could be and allowed your anger to fuel you. It was better than fear. You refused to be cowed in your own apartment. Yes, anger was definitely the better option than the cold fear that threatened to swamp you.

You let out a low growl,  “Nigga, you up here in my apartment like you own this place and you don’t. I pay rent here. Leave and I might not call the police.”

Your blood boiled as all the intruder did was laugh,  “You’re so cute, Y/N. Shall I pay you for the meal? Perhaps you want a tip as well?”

He must have found it so funny because he giggled and slapped his thigh. He even reached in his back pocket and pulled out his wallet.

“Are you serious, right now?”

“Yeah-o….” he chuckled pulling out some bills. In the dark you couldn’t see what they were but that was immaterial as he laid it on your counter and said, “$25 + $5 for tip = $30…..”

Suddenly while he was laying the bills down, you snapped too and took this as a chance. You took spun on your heal and ran back into the living room and would have run back down the hallway to your bedroom if not for the whiz that went by your face, making you stumble.

You stared at it, finally registering what it was. A large butcher knife was embedded in your wall. You swallowed, it looked like it had passed you with an inch between your head and the wall. Had his aim been off….that knife would have been embedded in your head. You shook your head not wanting to follow that that thought through. You found that you began to shake and would have tumbled backwards out of the knife’s view but you found your back hitting a solid wall behind you.

“Ahh, sorry about that. Natural reaction. I didn’t damage you did I? I don’t wish to do that.” You could feel the grin without looking, “At least not before I have my way with you.”

You could feel this muscular arm snake around your form, resting on your bare stomach. It just made you aware of how little you were wearing and reached up to cross your arms across your chest in a natural reaction. His other hand came to settle on your shoulder and you were aware of the heavy weight.

“Ahh, sorry. Perhaps I could have come at a more appropriate time, but I already saw you. Don’t be shy.” His hand on your shoulder crossed over your chest to the other shoulder.

You swallowed and stiffened in his embrace, “Please stop running all over the place, Y/N. It was fun, chasing you but I don’t wish to play a game of tag, your it-o. So stay still now, yeh? We need to have a conversation.”

Quick as lightning he took his right arm from around your waist and turned you slightly reaching out to yank the knife from the wall, before placing arm back around your waist. You could feel the cold length laying on your hip. You shivered again.

“Cold?”

The voice rumbled but no mirth could be heard. You slowly turned your head over your shoulder and looked up at him. Dark eyes bored down at you.

You swallowed around the lump in your throat at the towering menace above you with his iron bands around you.

“Are you? I will keep you warm tonight, my lady.”

You shook your head and he raised an eyebrow, “You don’t want me to keep you warm?”

You sensed an negative answer was not what he was going for. So you clarified, your voice a thin thread of a sound, “No...I meant….I’m not cold.”

You saw his eyebrows ripple once, “Are you?”

That wasn’t the correct answer either so you amended again, “Maybe….maybe I am a bit cold.”

M’Baku released you only to scoop you up in his arms, hugging you close to his chest, “Better?” he asked a small teasing smile on his face.

You managed to nod although it was jerky.

M’Baku grinned once again, “This is good to hear-o. Eh-eh!! I almost forgot since you had me running around here.” You suppressed a shiver as he took only four strides to go back to the couch, “I have a present especially for my lady.”

He rocked you and kissed you on the cheek before sitting you squarely down on the couch. The way he put you down, made you sit back against the couch in what was suppose to be comfortable position. Ironically, you brought this couch because it was fluffy and gave you a warm comforting feeling when you sat in it….however this night it was anything but that. The couch seemed cold and even it’s usually plush cushions seemed like pin needles as you sat stiffly.

M’Baku didn’t move from in front of you and leaned over to grab something. Your eyes flitted to the knife he held loosely in his right hand. You shivered. Although it wasn’t pointed at you , you felt it was mocking you, daring you to try something. When he straightened you realized he had a rectangular box that you didn’t even notice was in your house. He must have brought it with him because you didn’t remember having it.  

Much like a child on Christmas Day, he brought it to his ear and gave it a gentle shake. “I wonder what this is-o”, he sung.

With a huge grin, he handed it to you. Gingerly with trembling hands you reached up and took it before you began to inspect it. You had to consciously breathe as you began unwrapping the gold packaging to reveal a white box. Once you opened the box you looked in it before slowly pulling out the item.

It was a pure white rose.  

You blinked.

A part of you would have laughed at the absurdity of it all. An psycho was in your apartment, Said psycho had already eaten your leftover dinner like you had offered to feed him. Now you were sitting on your couch with said psycho towering over you, having offered you a rose, like you was his crush or something….

All this while in your night clothes which was little more than boy shorts and a crop top at 3am in the morning.

You felt a sense of hysterical well up in you and you wanted to badly to find that anger that seemed to have long since fled. That would have been easier to deal with.

As such you just stared at the rose dumbfounded.

M’Baku rocked on the balls of his feet. For a big man he had great coordination you absently noticed, “ Ta-dah!! Do you like it?”

“Yea, it’s…..beautiful….” Strangely your voice didn’t crack even as quiet as it was.

And it was. Too bad that the situation you were in marred it’s beauty.

“True but the color is all wrong.”

You startled and looked up at him, “Wha?”

A lazy ripple floated over his shoulder, “The color is wrong...it should be red actually.”

“Then why didn’t you buy a red rose?” You could have slapped yourself for your response. A white or red rose was not the issue here.

M’Baku only grinned once more, “I could have brought a red rose but that would have lost the meaning of the white one.”

“The meaning….”

M’Baku stared down at you and you shivered. Finally he leaned down, both hands resting on either side of you. You shifted once, feeling the slight prick of the tip of the knife.

You could barely hear his next words,  “I want the white rose to be red but I want you to help me turn this beautiful white rose into a beautiful red one. You think my Lady can do that?”

M’Baku lifted his right hand and rested the tip of the knife on your sternum. His eyes were locked on the knife as he held it there for a long moment. You stopped breathing almost.

After a moment, he absently he ran it down your body, his eyes trailing his movements. Your whimper made him look up at you. A slow smile formed on his face tainted with mania. Chills shot down your spine.

“Do you think you can help me-o?.....Hmm? ”

-----

Three days later:

News anchorwoman:  Breaking news….a young woman was found in her apartment home brutally murdered.  So far we know that there hasn’t been any eyewitness testimony as those that the police have spoken to did not see or hear anything.    

We do know that a white rose dipped in her blood was left at the crime scene along with a knife embedded into a mirror which we can only assume is the murder weapon. As usual no fingerprints or DNA was found….  

[matthewbeilschmidts]

PRUCAN WEEK DAY TWO: CHANGE

Change could be a difficult concept to accept. Sometimes it was welcomed with open arms, the impending opposition ready to be taken by the horns. Other times, it was horrifying, something worth avoiding if you could help it. While Gilbert personally challenged himself to go above and beyond with whatever was thrown at him, now was one of the few times he would admit he was afraid.

After all, one of the biggest changes in his early life was about to happen. College. A significant event that everyone overhyped, that all commented would be the most hard hitting thing would come. He was not unexcited about it coming, not fearful of the challenges that laid ahead, what he was worried about was leaving his love.

Just a high school love? Eh, details. He was in a relationship with his neighbor. They have know each other since youth, crushed on him since middle school, and began dating him his second year in high school. He was smitten with person who he shared his childhood with, most of his fond memories were shared with Matthew, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

His chosen school was three hours away, he had been very up front with what school he had wanted to go to, then when he was accepted, he was not about to lose his chance. Matthew was a year younger, not yet applying for college, but it would come. For now, it was Gilbert’s turn to move forward.

It was going to be a new experience, new opportunities, new studies. It’s not that he was locked where he was at, unwilling to move ahead, it’s that Matthew was the one thing he wasn’t going to let go. They had talked, of course. He hadn’t left the conversation until the last week which would inevitably lead to heart break.

Matthew was proud of him, overjoyed by the fact that he was going to be studying what he wanted, where he wanted. He had accepted the fact that Gilbert was going to leave. He voiced that he was going to miss him, but promised they still had their relationship if that was what Gilbert wanted.

And of course he did.

But Gilbert’s insecurity started to boil up. He kept it cleverly hidden almost always, his front so powerful only few knew it was a mask. One of those people was of course Matthew.

He refused to let the mask break, but Matthew was the type of person who would uncover even the smallest crack.

He was two weeks away from leaving, reality setting in more and more with each passing second. Gilbert spends as much time as he can with Matthew, relishing in every moment they had before he had to leave.

They sit rested on Gilbert’s living room couch. An action movie he could not help to remember the name of played in the background. Surprisingly, he wasn’t even paying attention. His mind wandered, thinking only of Matthew as he now laid on Gilbert, his back to his chest. His left hand running gently through the blond curls, noting how soft they were.

He’s going to miss this at school. He won’t have it in the dorm. Matthew interrupts his thoughts when he speaks.

“Hmm?” he hums, not having heard what was said.

“Do you think the ex-wife set him up?”

Gilbert pursed his lips. He had stopped watching about five minutes in. He had no idea what was occurring, he wasn’t even sure of the plot.

“Maybe,” he answered after a beat.

Matthew tilts his head up, eyes catching the corner of his boyfriend’s face. Gilbert ignores the questioning eyes.

“You’re not paying attention are you?” he points out.

“That obvious?”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I thought you wanted to watch this movie?”

He did, or had. As much as that was true, at the moment it was the last thing on his mind.

“Hmm, got distracted.”

“By what?”

Gilbert takes a dramatic breath, halting the hand running through Matthew’s hair and shifting so his arms wrap around the other’s frame.

“Bout you,” he answers simply. It comes out mumbled against Matthew’s scalp. The younger boy shakes his head when the other’s breath tickles his head.

“What about me?”

Gilbert stays quiet. How could he answer?

Thinking about much I’ll miss you. Thinking about how I won’t get to sneak over to your house every night. Thinking about the possibility you won’t want to wait for me.

He grimaces. Even with how much they couple agreed they would talk and text every day. That they would FaceTime at least twice a week. That Gilbert would be home for the holidays, that Matthew could go to drop him off, that they’d be able to visit each other after a month or two, it wasn’t enough.

What if Gilbert got too busy? What if there came a day or days where they did not message each other. What if Matthew decided he was too lonely and didn’t want to wait for Gilbert because he was too far away.

Gilbert was the one moving away, so why did he feel like he would be the one that gets left behind.

He stays quiet for too long. Matthew removes himself from the warm embrace and shuts off the movie. Gilbert doesn’t have the heart too look him in the eye.

“Gilbert? What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head, waving a dismissive hand, not wanting to spill his unwarranted worries to Matthew. Why couldn’t he just get a grip and hope everything would be okay?

Matthew’s lips droop. Concern laced his eyes and Gilbert wants to avoid it.

“Gilbert, you know you can tell me everything? Right?”

Matthew was probably the person Gilbert trusted the most, especially with his feelings. His hands are enveloped in warmth as Matthew grasps his. His thumbs rub small circles on the smooth, pale skin.

“Please?”

Gilbert debates on what to say. He doesn’t want to give Matthew the idea he wants to break up, in fact that’s the last thing he wants. He’s not weak, he can be strong, pretend that everything’s okay, but Matthew is already on his trail.

“I’ll miss you,” he settles on.

Gilbert is pathetic, he can’t even share his true feelings with the one who deserves them the most. He wants to be specific, he should. They weren’t going to get anywhere is he wasn’t upfront.

He’s being hugged before he realizes it. Matthew yanks his arms pulling his body forward. He feels smalls in the embrace, it’s sometimes easy to forget Matthew played physical sports with how hidden he was by the oversized sweaters he wore.

“I’ll miss you too.” Matthew starts running a hand over the back his head, his hands are soft, warm, Gilbert loves it when he’s physically affectionate. “You know Gilbert. I’m not gonna forget you.”

He flinches at the sentence. Matthew had already figured him out, knew what his worry was. It was amazing how well he could be read.

“I know I know. It’s what you’re worried about right?” He nods and Matthew sighs. He backs away enough that Gilbert has to look him in the eyes. And hand comes to lay on his jaw, holding him firm enough that he knows he won’t shift his face away. “I promised you, that we’d talk. That I’d visit. And I plan on keeping that promise.”

Gilbert starts to grip his leg. The nails can’t dig far, being stopped by the jean fabric.

“I know, but.”

Matthew probably thinks he is ridiculous. He opens his mouth, wanting to say something, anything to get his dignity back.

“I love you.”

Gilbert blinks. His eyes haven’t left Matthew face, which is rapidly filling with color. His mouth gapes, opening and closing before words come out.

“Did I say that?” Gilbert asks.

“Ah, no. I did.” Matthew rubs at his neck. The color has traveled far down hidden by the top of his shirt and even went up to his ears.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

The silence is stagnant. Gilbert hasn’t moved, Matthew stops fidgeting, pressing his lips together in a tight line.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I said something weird and-”

“I love you, too,” Gilbert blurts, cutting off the oncoming word vomit. He has said it, they both have before. But all other times have lacked the seriousness it carries now. It feels different this time around. The air is heavier, they’ve been put in a situation they haven’t before.

“I love you, Mattie. And I don’t want to lose you, that’s why I’m scared.”

They’re back in each other’s spaces. Gilbert wrapping his arms around Matthew’s waist and his around Gilbert’s shoulders. Matthew’s hands find their way back into silver hands, caressing his head and bringing it close.

“You won’t. I promise.”

Gilbert has always trusted Matthew’s words, no matter how difficult. He’ll believe in Matthew, after all there was no point in freaking out before they even tried. For now, their promise is enough.

[pleasinglytherandom]

Soul Split Drabble #2 kinda sorta

Okay, some context here. In the manga, a month period happens before the gang goes to Egypt to send Atem off to rest. While driving home one day, I remembered this and had the random thought--”What were they doing in that period?” And for some reason, the first thing that popped into my head was the idea of this drabble. Realistically, the most I would do is reference this time period in story and come up with something relevant. But it definitely gives some good material and leeway to write with. I actually debated on writing this for a couple of weeks and finally decided “ to hell with it” and wrote this in 4 hours (with distractions) lmao. I figured this would still fit in the au, so eh. Why not? So...fair warning, this is absolutely raw and unedited, so ignore any mistakes. Because chances are I won’t go back and edit it on here lol. (I reference my past work a lot to see what mistakes I have made and try to better at it)

Still can’t tell if I made myself cry while writing this is or good not

Enjoy!

~~~~

Yugi and Jonouchi walked into an arcade one late afternoon. School was finally over for the day and they had no tests to study for. There was also no immediate concerns for them. Battle City has ended, Atem has retrieved his memories, and they have all the necessary items to send him back. The only thing that is to do is to make the trip to Egypt. In a fortunate way, making the money will take some time for the group to make this trip, so that meant more time to spend with Atem. The group all sat down and planned it out of how long it would take to create the funds for them to all go, and the answer they came to was a month. In that month, they all made plans to hang out whenever possible and split the time up as fairly as possible.

Today, it was Jonouchi's day. It has been a long while since either of the boys have played anything else that wasn't a card game. It has been a long time since they stepped inside an arcade in general. The changes were startling to both of them; nevertheless, it was a scene that was familiar to them. The sounds of buttons clicking and joysticks clacking, the sound effects of various video games going off from every corner of the room, and the ocassional whooping from some kid who beat a high score. Not likely Kaiba's high score, but a high score of some sort.

“Alright Yugi, where to first?” Jonouchi asked as he put a few yen into a machine. The machine dispensed a handful of coins and he pocketed them into his jeans. “Check out the newer games or go for ‘ol reliable?”

Their “ol reliable” was the typical beat 'em up games. They used to sit on the stools for hours, fighting each other with their favorite fighter. Sometimes they would even see who was the better Bruce Lee. Yugi would always win, but they had fun regardless. It was a simpler time.

“Let's go check out the newer games first,” Yugi answered as he retrieved his own set of coins. “But I also promised Other Me that he gets first play on whatever we decide to play.”

“That's cool and all, but no cheating! Don't help him on the controls or anything!”

“Ha ha, I can't promise anything Jonouchi-kun, we do share the same body after all. I can only promise I won't tell him anything myself.”

“Man, the one time I might be able to win at something and you can't even promise me you won't cheat...”

“Alright, alright, how about this? I promise on my honor I won't help Other Me or help him cheat as far  as me telling him is concerned. When it comes to my body and muscle memory, I can't help that.”

“Better.”

Despite their competitive bicker, they were smiling widely and laughing as they passed all of the machines. Any outsider wouldn't be able to tell anything was amiss in their lives. If one really looked hard enough, they could see the pain behind the glint in their eyes and grins. For the moment, they could forget the weight on their shoulders. They could have normalcy for a day.

That was all they really needed.

Yugi and Jonouchi looked side to side in the aisle of the games, noting which ones were new and which ones weren't. They rounded a corner and spotted a shiny pinball machine with bright colors and lights. It had a comical mascot dressed up in a princess dress and being carried away by some sort of monster on one half, the other half with another mascot dressed in a hero's outfit giving chase, a sword and shield in hand. They stared at it, attempting to make sense of the story the images told. A light layer of dust covered the glass, making it difficult to see the visuals clearly.

Yugi gave a pitiful smile and walked up to the machine and used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the dust away. Clearly it hasn't been used, but it was still taken care of to a certain degree. Jonouchi walked up behind him with curiousity, looking over his shoulder. Upon closer inspection, yellow letters was written to tell the player the point system and how many coins to insert per turn. At the top in between the mascots, bubbled characters was bolded with what the machine was called.

“ 'Save the Princess', huh?” Jonouchi read it out loud with minimal amusement.  He shrugged and leaned against the wall with one hand, looking back at Yugi. “Not very creative title. So you decided on this Yugi?”

“Yup,” Yugi nodded, a more genuine smile appearing on his face. “Every game deserves a play. What do you think, Other Me?” Yugi titled his head back and looked over his shoulder, the question directed to the spirit. Yugi smiled even more and laughed, then cradled the Puzzle in his hands and shuts his eyes, like he normally does to switch places with Atem.

Jonouchi couldn't see him, but he can feel his presence there. He used to not be able to tell, but after the Memory World escapade, Atem felt even more like of a separate entity that inhabited the Puzzle. He isn't entirely sure why, but he suspects that seeing him in his own body had something to do with it. Did it reaffirm the fact that he indeed was someone else? Is it because he emits the aura of a regal being rather than the aura of a different Yugi? Is it because he is confident of his own identity and it shows—or rather, oozes?

Jonouchi shook the questions out of his head and came back to the present, seeing Atem now standing there in Yugi's place. He jingles the coins in his hand while looking at the game, his eyes narrowed in contemplation. He looks at the contraption from side to side, pressing one of the buttons with his free hand, an eyebrow shooting up. He pulls on the knob that shoots the pinball out, then releases it. The thud from the action made him jolt in surprise, but his face turns into amazement right after.

“Are...are you trying to figure out the controls?” Jonouchi asks, trying to hold back a bit of a snicker. His mouth twists a bit from his effort, but a snort comes out of his nose. He knew that it would be amusing to watch him play more unique games, but his raw reactions could be compared to a kitten testing a new toy for the first time. To put it simply, he couldn't handle it.

“Yes, I am,” Atem mused for a bit more before inserting a coin in the slot, causing the game to come to life. He puts the rest of the currency in a pocket and rests his hand over the knob and pulls it back as far as it could go and releases, watching the pinball shoot out of the slide and bounces around. “Grandpa's shop has many games, but a pinball machine is not one of them, so I am not familiar with it or it's functions. Partner isn't that familiar with them either apparently.”

“All the better for me then! Makes the playing field more fair. I bet I'll beat your scores every time!” Jonouchi stands up straighter and watches closer, the pinball going from side to side on the board, sounds pinging when something is activated inside.

“Are you sure it's wise to make a bet like that Jonouchi?” Atem smirks, the competetive determination lighting up inside his violet eyes. He observes carefully, his fingers twitching at the sides on top of the triggers for the flippers.

“Wise? Who said anything about wise? I am making the bet because it'll be fun to test your skills at something you have never played!”

“If that is what you want, then that is what you will get.”

The pinball finally began to drop down into the middle of the board, then the bottom, and launched back up by the flipper. Fortunately for the King of Games, Yugi has above average timing and reflexes, and that is all he really needs for a simple game like this. His luck can cover the rest. The score board went higher and higher as Atem kept playing, the ball yet to drop to it's death.

Jonouchi clicked his tongue as he witnessed the score rack up higher gradually. He shook his head and crossed his arms, finding it hard to swallow that Atem can be good at something he has never touched. There was no possible way for him to find time to know these games existed, let alone practice. However, he couldn't bring himself to be mad. Atem was into it and enjoying himself, and Jonouchi was able to witness it for himself. It brought a smile to his lips, and that much he was grateful for.

“I would like to thank you, Jonouchi.” Atem said softly, the ball finally whizzing past the flippers, unable to be saved. His eyes look up to his friends', a gentleness that the blond was not used to seeing. “You and everyone else are working hard for my sake. Not only to help put me to peace, but to spend time with me and feel like a person of this time. To help me feel like I could belong on the last moments of being here with you. It makes me incredibly happy and honored that you all would do that for me. So, thank you.”

A lump jumped into Jonouchi's throat, and a burning sensation settled in the back. He swallowed hard to prevent any tears from coming, and he smiled sadly at the words. He knew they couldn't ignore the obvious, it was inevitable that it would come up. But, that was a part of their normal. The obvious was always there in front of them. They just ignored it.

If only they figured out what would happen sooner.

“I feel the same too, Atem.”

[ohstardust]

You Are All Four Seasons

REQUEST: from @likeapinkocean​ Hey I was wondering if you do fionn imagines. I really love your writing 💜. I was wondering if you could write one where fionn and y/n have been best friends for years. Whilst he is doing an interview with Harry, he admits that he’s in love with y/n. I thought this would be a cute idea 💜😂 A/N: I wasn’t sure how to write this and then inspiration hit. Hope the way it plays out is okay for you :) Also, the Disney Channel thing actually happened between me and my best guy friend (at the time), I didn’t realise that he actually liked me then, oops. Title & italics lyrics: Northern Wind by City & Color My Fionn playlist can be found on Spotify (this is what I listen to when I write about him and songs that are featured in fics about him) (x)

There were no amount of words in the English language, or any other for that matter, that allowed Y/N to express her level of pride for her best friend. It was as simple as that. Her pride was metaphorically off the chart. If one were to tell her and Fionn when they first met at the age of eight that they would be closer than ever, and he would be cast in a historical film epic, by the age of twenty, then they’d have probably rolled their eyes and blown a spitball at you in disbelief. But here they were, twelve years on in the exact position that would have left the youngsters incredulous.

Their friendship had been the most ridiculous cliché since the start, the kind that teenage romantic comedies are made about, the kind that made you laugh but secretly envied, and one that left you in awe of how 2 people could reach that level of companionship without falling hopelessly in love with each. Another rom-com trope. The thing is, she’d probably loved him since they were sixteen when he asked her to prom and bashfully told her she looked pretty, or perhaps it was when she was thirteen and he spent the whole afternoon stroking her hair whilst she binged on the Disney Channel and didn’t complain once. Either way, it had been ongoing for a number of years but time away from him during filming and promo allowed her to breathe and think again, to not feel so intensely and to take a step back to rethink her feelings. Not that she could change them anyway. She did hate how far away he had been lately though, she was stuck at university whilst he travelled to multiple places to promote Dunkirk with incredible people, and she couldn’t do a damn thing about it. You’re the Northern Wind Sending shivers down my spine You’re like fallen leaves In an autumn night

She was tired and her arms ached from carrying bags of shopping back to her flat. Her tote bag had fallen off her shoulder four times and the handles on the bag containing plastic bottles of water had snapped leaving her to carry them home in her arms. She just wanted to sleep and pretend the rubbish afternoon hadn’t happened. The girl knew that Fionn had an interview airing live today online from some news site unknown to her, and whilst normally she’d be eager to watch, seeing him live would have just intensified the ache in her chest that had been increasing the past couple of months. It wouldn’t be wise to watch it, which is why she chose that afternoon to shop. She wouldn’t be tempted to logon and watch despite how awful she’d feel. Y/N set the items in the kitchen, putting everything away in their rightful place and trudged to her room to change. Once she was settled on her bed, she pulled the blanket over her and took her phone from her bag. Nine missed calls Fourteen text messages Four voicemails She began to panic as she realised they had all come from Fionn, Angie and Grace and worried that something awful had happened. She clicked on Fionn’s message thread first and scrolled through them in alarm. Fee Fi Fo Fum (16:24) I really need to speak to you, please pick up. I think I really screwed up. Fee Fi Fo Fum (16:32) Where are you? You’re not in lectures or working today so please call me back. Fee Fi Fo Fum (16:37) Look I’m really sorry, please don’t ignore me, we can talk about this. Fee Fi Fo Fum (16:49) C’mon Y/N, ring me I’m freaking out Fee Fi Fo Fum (16:58) At least answer Grace or Ang, they’re worried too Fee Fi Fo Fum (17:11) PLEASE Fee Fi Fo Fum (17:29) It’s fine, I get it. Y/N’s heart began to race, never had Fionn been so insistent on speaking to her, always understanding how busy she tends to be when it comes to studying or working. It scared her. Before she hit the call button on his contact, she opened the text threads from her other friends to see if it would shed some light on the situation. Ang (16:42) Hav u spoken 2 Fionn? If not then CALL HIM! Ang (16:51) Hes a wreck, he knows he messed up but he needs to explain Ang (16:55) Shit hve u not seen what happened? Ang (16:55) If ur out then ring us when u get chance Gracie (16:49) Babe, when you get this can you please call Fi? Gracie (16:56) You’re probably really busy love but it’s important Gracie (17:09) If you won’t call him, can you at least call me? Y/N’s stomach dropped, it was one thing for Fionn to incessantly call and text her, but evidently he’d brought two of their closest friends into the debacle and she wondered what on earth had he done wrong to need to speak to her so urgently? And what was he so sorry about? You’re the lullaby That’s singing me to sleep You are the other half You’re like a missing piece She worked on evening out her breathing before pressing call on Fionn. The voice that greeted her on the other end of the phone was quiet and timid, something that had become a distant memory from their childhood, she couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken to her in that tone. “I didn’t think you were still talking to me.” “I was out doing the food shopping, my hands were full and I didn’t see my phone until I got home,” she found herself reacting defensively, why did everyone seem to think she was ignoring them? “What’s so important? I have a bunch of calls, texts and voicemails from you, Ang and Grace, where’s the fire?” she weakly laughed. Fionn didn’t respond to the jovial tone and sighed, “I’ve been worried sick.” “Why, because I didn’t reply within the hour?” “You don’t know do you?” She huffed and rolled her eyes, becoming annoyed with people skirting around this apparent issue and wanting someone to just tell her. “For God’s sake, what’s happened?” “I said something stupid in an interview today… about you.” “Really? That’s it? You had me thinking someone had died!” “You might kill m-“ Her phone buzzed as it was pressed to her ear and she saw another incoming text from Angie, “-hold on one sec, Ang just sent me a link to something, says it’s crucial I watch it now.” She grabbed her laptop and opened the link in the message, ‘ Fionn Whitehead makes a big confession!’ was the caption on the video. Curiously she pressed play and let the interview with Fionn and Harry run. “It’s just an interview of yours, is this the one from today?” “Probably.” He stayed silent as he could hear the audio of the video, he debated telling her to turn it off knowing that she hadn’t a clue what he’d confessed to, but it was only a matter of time before she’d find out and she’d likely not forgive him for that. “Fionn brought his best mate out with us in London and she’s a riot, not a typical student drinker I’ll give her that, probably why she made such a spectacle of us all.” Harry cheekily grinned at the younger man and shot the same look to the woman interviewing them. Fionn gave the sweetest smile and heartily laughed at the memory, shaking his head and stretching he retored, “God I’m so in love with her.” His face paled and dropped as soon as he had said it and panicked, not knowing how to backtrack. Y/N’s breath hitched and she stuttered out a laugh in shock. After many years of friendship, she knew when he was joking and when he was sincere, being able to read him like a book, and this time was no exception. His face was too soft and honest and relaxed, a feature never seen to people he didn’t know or wasn’t comfortable with. The boy was still on the end of the phone, his forehead rested on his free hand and his eyes closed in fear. He heard her rewind that portion of the video and play it again, the whole image playing out in his head as he replayed the interview. “God I’m so in love with her.” The hairs were stood up on Y/N’s body and her eyes had clouded over. “Was it a joke?” Y/N’s voice came out thick and unsure, still not knowing how to process this. “Do you want it to be?” Her voice came out so small that Fionn wasn’t sure if he’d heard her or not, “No.”

“Good, ‘cause I meant it.” “How long?” “Prom,” she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, she was so elated to learn about his feelings but she hated how much time had been wasted, how many sleepless nights she’d had about losing him because she’d fallen in too deep. “I feel the same, y’know?” “Please say it,” his voice sounded pained but desperate for her to tell him just how she felt after all this time. Her head shook despite him not being able to see her. “Not until I see you, have to say it in person first, see how much we really mean it.” Fionn’s smile was audible through the phone and she couldn’t fight off her own, “I’ll be home tomorrow, love.” “I’m counting on it, ‘ve missed you.” “Missed you too,” he tiredly rubbed his eyes and let out a soft yawn, the promo was really draining his energy but he was glad to be promoting in the same city as her tomorrow and couldn’t wait to hold her. “ ‘m sorry for giving you a scare, I was just so worried that you’d seen it and you were mad, didn’t want to ruin that.” “It’s okay, it was worth it. Just don’t panic so much next time, you can do no wrong as far as I’m concerned and you know that.” “I know, it was silly. We should probably tell the others not to worry now, eh?” The irony of their clichéd romance was not lost on her and she’d absolutely laugh about it later, but right now she wanted to lose herself in Fionn’s voice and forget everything else, “They can wait, tell me about your week so far.”

[theclosetpoet7]

Because She Just Had to Wear That

Disclaimer: Naruto is not mine. :)

Summary: In which Sakura sends Sasuke a picture

Rating: MA/NSFW

Uchiha Sasuke's gaze settles on the unread messages on his flip phone. His young wife had sent him a couple of SMS a few hours ago, but he had been otherwise preoccupied with the rogue nin attacking him. There were a few more which he guesses were sent while he was in another dimension, still gathering intel on Kaguya's army. Now, he rests in a rundown hotel just fresh out of a shower. His dark locks drip with water as he sits on the bed going through the messages he received.

One came from Naruto.

His left eyebrow lifted upon seeing the subject matter.

"Urgent." It said.

He clicks on the message and reads through it.

"Teme, we went to the beach today. Don't worry, I covered Sakura-chan's body from prying eyes using a floatie."

The nin's eyebrows shoot up. And then he pictures his lovely wife walking on the sand, her skin probably in a pink flush. Then he thinks of the image his idiot bestfriend painted.

And groans at the thought.

Because wouldn't she look even cuter then? He could just see her, in the blue one piece she always wore after giving birth. At the time he didn't really understand her consciousness. She still looked fine. That blue swimwear, paired with a lifesaver would give the perverts the illusion of her appearing as a school girl. Kami, his friend could be clueless sometimes.

He skips over the other messages and clicks one of Sakura's.

"Anata! Look at Sarada-chan! Isn't she so kawaii?"

The patriarch clicks on the next message which was a multimedia one and lets out a subtle smile at the sight. There was his lovely eleven-month-old daughter, her chubby arms hanging by her side in a pink bathing suit, with a white skirt like work on the waist area. And she was frowning at the camera, her chipmunk like cheeks appearing puffed out. Sakura was holding her with one arm around their daughter's torso, grinning wide into the camera.

.

.

.

Onyx eyes widen at the image. And he stares at the picture again in utter disbelief. Attention zeroing in on his wife. Mouth drying at the sight.

The material looked flimsy.

It exposed her shoulders which looked amazing.

Her breasts, or at least parts of it, looked fuller.

And her stomach, which had grown flatter since he last saw her, looked soft and smooth.

Her upper thighs were visible too, as she was on her knees, doing her best to capture Sarada's whole outfit.

'What the hell?'

He closes the message, swiftly clicks on her name, and puts the phone to his ear. He taps his finger on the bedside table, listening to her cellphone ring, and patiently waits for her to pick up.

"Anata!"

Her excited greeting nearly makes him forget about the purpose of the call, realizing just how much he has missed her voice. But he pushes through regardless.

"Throw it away."

"Eh?"

"The red bikini."

His neck warms upon realizing what he just said.

The red bikini.

"What? But I just bought it! and it's expensive Sasuke-kun!"

"I don't care. I'll buy you something else. Just, throw it away."

"And why the hell should I?"

He could hear the irritation in her voice and nervously bites his lip, debating over whether he should tell her the reason.

'Because you look so fuckable in it. And I don't want anyone else to see what is mine.'

He recognizes the desire making itself known. And with the picture she just sent him, as well as her soft voice, he finds himself being unable to hold back his next words.

"What are you wearing now?"

"A-Anata?!"

Her tone tells him that she had been taken off guard by his question, and the implication of where the conversation was going. Still he doesn't shy away from it. They have afterall, been intimate several times before. Too many times. He has missed her. Terribly. Though he doesn't have to say it outloud for her to know that he did. Tonight was one of those nights that he was, to put it bluntly, horny for her. And that image she sent him, though it was meant to show him their daughter, only had him panting with need for Uchiha Sakura.

Hot would be an understatement.

She drove him wild.

"Sakura, what are you wearing?"

His tone had turned low to its seductive baritone, conveying to her that he isn't teasing. There is a long pause before she lets out a soft breath. He shivers upon hearing her sigh.

"A nightie."

He instantly starts to harden and turns to lie on his back, taking off his towel and releasing his cock.

"Which one?"

Sasuke hears his wife swallow and shift her position on what he assumes is their bed.

"The white one."

He stiffens and holds back a groan, mind already filled with erotic memories of the supposedly innocent color made to look seductive with its lace work and the fact that her nipples were visible through it. She had worn it on their wedding night.

He lowers his hand.

"..."

.

.

.

"Sasuke-kun? Are you touching yourself right now?"

"Hn."

His right hand grasps his semi hard appendage and it takes a wince for him to realize that his hand isn't as soft as he wants it to be. It could never compare to the gentle touch his wife always gave him. He closes his eyes and conjures up images of Sakura. The last time they had been together was three months prior. And she had sucked him off with so much enthusiasm that he couldn't control himself.

Their sex had always been sweet, gentle and passionate but sometimes, it was hot and animalistic. He would plunge into her so hard that the lovely Sannin would scream his name.

Not that it was rare for her to scream it.

Hell, their sex was always hot.

His hips made an involuntary hard pump at the thought and he lets out a soft groan.

"Sasuke-kun..."

The sound was one which nearly made him cum. Because he knows it. Has known it because he is usually the one who makes it come out of her pretty mouth.

His wife was touching herself.

"Fuck, Sakura, you're..."

His hand tightens a little bit at the part of him that has grown harder at her voice.

She lets out a deep sigh and he can hear another rustle of sheets, then she lets out a moan.

"Can you blame me Anata? I can hear you... breathing...and I want you."

Unable to control himself any longer, Sasuke puts the phone on speaker mode.

He turns on his stomach and places a pillow below him, hips lifting as he pretends that it is her under him. He is sure that she is doing the same in their home, legs probably wrapped around that life-sized pillow she had.

"Wrap your legs around me Sakura."

She lets out a whimper at his demand but adjusts her position again from what he could hear.

"I'm going to fuck you now."

She lets out a gasp. He can hear her swallow her spit and almost stutter at his crude sentence. Then he props his left stump beside the pillow, right hand continuing the pumping motion around his member.

"Sasuke-kun."

He grunts and starts a slow thrust. Hips moving back and forth. His hand is around himself trying to focus on her breaths, coming out in small puffs on the opposite line.

"Sakura."

He pumps hard and lets out a groan. When he opens his eyes, he is seeing her, feeling her. With her slim arms around his neck, and her eyes, her green green eyes pleading him to go faster.

He couldn't help himself from spewing out dirty words. Lips forming lewd sentences.

"Can you feel me inside you Sakura?"

"Ah..."

"Can you feel me fucking you?"

"Sasuke-kun."

He continues his motion, picking up the pace as he hears her gasp again.

"Move your fingers faster, push against that fucking pillow harder."

"Uhn...Sa, Sasuke-kun..."

"I'm thrusting against you hard Yome, and I'm touching you where we are joined."

"Aaaah!"

Her sudden climax surprises him and he thrusts against his hand faster until he sees the blinding light.

.

.

.

She lets out soft pants as she comes down from her release.

"Anata, I love you so much."

His heart swells at her words, chest rising and falling rapidly as he tries to calm his breathing. His hand feels sticky now.

"I love you too."

"A-and you miss me?"

His cheeks warm again, and he guesses that she must be blushing too.

"So much."

"Me too."

She lets out a giggle.

"That was a first."

He recalls what they had just done and his body goes up a couple of degrees, already desiring to be inside her. Really be inside her.

"Aa."

"What brought this on?"

He almost, Almost, stutters at her question. All because of a silly picture. That was all it took for him to be turned on by his wife.

He gets up and starts walking to the shower to clean himself of the mess he had made while having phone sex with Uchiha Sakura. He could feel her smile on the other end.

"Sasuke-kun?"

Her tone is teasing. He smirks, recalling that he had teased her a couple of times before. The young nin lets out a "hn" and utters it again.

.

.

.

"Throw it away or I will."

______________

AN:

Yome- how a man refers to his wife. (It's usually Tsuma, but I liked this too much)

So "Of Apples and Cinnamon" is now rated M. I wanted to post this as soon as I can, just to satisfy my need to write SasuSaku for now. So sorry about not updating my other stories. I sort of have a writer's block with regards to Sore ga ai deshou and I'm busy with board exams.

R & R

Eat, breathe, love and think SasuSaku.